Shadows in Ravenwood (Daughters of the Circle)

by Lenore Wolfe

  THIRTY-FOUR

  CLAIRE

  Claire went out the front door and down the stone steps towards the Gargoyle statue. The moon had moved into its quarter phase, but it still provided plenty of light for her to take a walk. When she reached him, she stood in front of him. “You can come out now,” she said.

  Nothing.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “I want to see you shift—just once, please. So, I can get my mind wrapped around the fact you are actually this stone statue.”

  She waited, her arms folded.

  Nothing.

  Huffing—she turned around to head back to the house.

  “So, impatient,” Thorick teased.

  Claire spun around. The statue was gone, and Thorick stood in its place. She swallowed her frustration. “But I wanted to see you do that,” she said.

  “Even if you did, your eyes wouldn’t be able to take it in,” he said.

  She stared at him, trying to comprehend. “You’re saying—it happens that fast.”

  “That too,” he said.

  She glowered at him. “You are hard to follow. Do you know that?”

  He frowned at her. “Isn’t that what we said?”

  Claire growled deep in her throat. He chuckled at her. She didn’t realize until that moment that he teased her. She flushed but smiled at him in relief. But, then, he started walking straight at her in that graceful, predatory way of his, and she jumped—backing warily away.

  “What are you doing?” she said, putting her hands out as if she could ward him off.

  He kept coming until he came flush up against her—and her hands were against his chest.

  At first, she tried to push him, but he leaned toward her until his lips were a mere breath away—and she melted—again. She knew that he sensed her give because he took it the rest of the distance between them, his lips coming down on hers in a brief but gentle kiss.

  When he leaned back, still not touching her, she stared up into his slate-gray gaze, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened.

  She had to work to clear her head so she could focus on his. She grasped at anything that would bring some routine clarity back to her world. The first thing that came to mind was the book, and she grabbed at it like a drowning victim grabbing at a lifeline.

  She looked up at him and took a breath. “Do you know anything about Shamanic journeys—about journeying into the underworld?” she asked.

  His dark, slate-grey eyes dilated as he tried to follow her abrupt change of subject. “Yes,” he finally answered. “But is that really what you want to talk to me about—right at this moment.”

  Claire bit her lip, suddenly nervous. She didn’t know how to ask Thorick to help her, when she’d never had a conversation with him before—and when this unnamed emotion hung in the air between them.

  Somehow, talking to him about the journeying seemed much easier—than the other. So, she took the coward’s way out. “Yes,” she said, but her voice came out in more of a croak, making it apparent she tried to cover up the truth in what he’d insinuated.

  His gaze narrowed on her lips.

  She couldn’t resist the pull between them anymore. “Okay,” she said, coming up on her tip-toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, meeting his invitation. She matched the emotion, she sensed coursing through him, in that kiss. She couldn’t have stopped herself from doing anything else. When he pulled back, she gazed at him. She knew the shocked expression that must have shown on her face—but she couldn’t help that. She couldn’t hide it. She couldn’t begin to cover the way he affected her. He read her emotion correctly, she realized, when he suddenly picked her up and, cradling her gently against him, headed for the house—and their room.

  She didn’t sleep much, again that night. But this time—it wasn’t from turning herself into a super-witch. Dawn had descended by the time Claire could think to have a conversation with him again.

  But even after what they’d shared, she still turned into a nervous wreck when she tried to talk to him. He saved her from having to fumble around, trying to figure out the right words.

  “You asked me about journeying to the underworld?” he said.

  She nodded. “Yes,” she said, hopeful.

  He chuckled, and his smile had the same sensuous and dangerous, predatory way he had in his movements. He leaned forward, gathering her near him, pulling her close as he lay back on the pillows.

  Did Gargoyles sleep? Claire wondered.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Claire jumped, and she craned her neck to stare up at his face, but his eyes were closed.

  “You think you might find some answers in dealing with the Warlock, within this journey?” he asked.

  Claire swallowed but only nodded.

  He lay quiet for so long that Claire didn’t think he intended to answer.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” he said, after a time.

  Claire leaned up on her elbow, staring down at him.

  He opened his eyes, an intense look in his as he gazed at her. “You will not find the answers, to defeat him, on a journey,” he explained.

  Claire felt the wind leave her in her disappointment.

  “The journey is about finding your way.” He reached up and stroked a lock of her hair between his fingers. He looked at it. “But you might find the way to defeat him from within you—in that journey.”

  Claire stared at him as she tried to follow that. When she finally realized what, he’d said to her—she squealed, then settled down and nodded.

  “The answer to defeating him lies within us.” A tremor moved through her as she sensed the truth in that. “So, we need to seek our answers from within.”

  Thorick nodded, and Claire smiled with more relief than she’d felt in a long, long time.

  Claire sat in the circle, Jake and Jack beating on hide-covered, hand-held drums. They’d been attending a drumming circle, so she figured who better than them to drum for her journey. She might not be able to find the answers to defeating Dante in a journey, but Thorick had indicated she might find those answers from within—so she’d go on a Shamanic journey, after all.

  She lay down on the pillows that she’d thrown down on the round rug.

  Morgan watched her. Claire could feel it. She knew her sister didn’t agree with her trying this. She’d tried to talk her out of it. She’d pointed out that she didn’t know anything about Shaman journeys, and she shouldn’t try to go on one, without first working with someone who did know something about them.

  But Claire had been meditating quite a bit, these past few years, so she decided to try it anyway.

  She lay down on the rug and closed her eyes, avoiding her sister’s hard stare as she did so. She let the drumming take her into a trance-like state. For more than forty minutes, she tried to figure out how to go on one of these so-called, Shamanic journeys. Finally, she gave up, sitting up in frustration to find Morgan standing there with her arms folded, still watching her.

  “It’ll never work with you standing there, thinking all those negative thoughts,” Claire pointed out.

  Morgan laughed. Putting one hand over her chest, she said, “Oh, so now I’m preventing you from going on this journey.” She grinned, then sobered. “Seriously, Claire. Get someone who actually knows what they’re doing to help you.”

  Claire got to her feet, blowing out the candles. Finally, she glanced at Morgan. “Fine. But who?”

  Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think Shamanic things should be treated with respect.”

  Claire stared at her for a long moment. Finally, she glanced over at the twins with a silent question in her gaze. “Why did you two take those drumming circle classes?”

  Jack shrugged, then looked at Jake.

  Jake flushed. “Just figured it would be something Sophia would appreciate.” He ignored his brother when he rolled his eyes, looking up at Claire. “I can ask Sophia if she knows anything about them.”

  Claire’s
brows shot up. “That’s an excellent idea. Who better than the Fae to know someone who can teach me about journeys.” She became excited. “Yeah, that could work.”

  Morgan threw one hand out, keeping the other folded around her. “See—I told you that you could find someone to teach you,” she said, chuckling. “Well—sort of,” she amended, seeing the look Claire gave her.

  Claire laughed. “Okay, okay,” she said, conceding. “Maybe you were right.”

  Morgan’s brows shot up.

  Claire chuckled at her sister. “Okay, yes, you were right. Now, let’s go and find Sophia.”

  she frowned. “Sophia has been kinda down since leaving Kira with her mother. Maybe it would get her mind off it.”

  Claire nodded. She let out a little laugh when she glanced over at Jake. He seemed crushed. “I’m sorry, Jake,” she said, but ruined it by still smiling. “I’m just too excited to wait.”

  He laughed, shaking his head as he placed his drum in its case. “It’s okay, Claire,” he said.

  Morgan shook her head. “You go and find her. Someone has to cook around here, or we’ll all starve.”

  Claire shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “You cook. I’ll go find Sophia.” She headed for the door. “Maybe we can pick this up, after dinner?” She went out the door, not waiting for an answer—too happy with the thought of getting this ball on a roll.