by Lizzy Prince
I looked up, feeling sweat bead on my forehead despite the cold air blanketing us. Certain I had a bleeding wound in my side, I swiped my hand over my clothing, sure I’d feel it soaked with blood, but there was nothing there, just the echo of pain from Munro. Although that wasn’t quite right. Munro had said, if one of us died, the other would too. We were connected, sharing our magic and our injuries. This was not good.
Hattie was ripping out the roots like they were crepe paper and quickly came to stand over Munro, looking down with disgust uncensored on her face.
“You don’t deserve to see your father again.” She raised her hand up in the air, and I knew she was going to deal a death stroke. To finish what the wound in his side had started.
“Stop!” The cry was garbled and pained.
I crawled forward on my hands and knees, blood pouring from my mouth and nose leaving splatters trailing on the ground beneath me. I felt Munro’s injury like it was my own. Suffered the effects as though I’d been stabbed too. The downside of the blood magic. I dug my fingers into the soil as I pulled myself forward, sinking them deep into the damp earth. The grass swayed and curled around my hands, the blades tucking around my fingers as if to hold me in comfort.
“I’ll give it to you,” I spat out.
“Annie, no!” Munro growled from behind Hattie, but I willed him to trust me, sending the emotion through the bond. I couldn’t lose him too.
A sadistic smile curved up Hattie’s face as she turned from Munro, leaving him to bleed out behind her like he wasn’t her son, and he didn’t matter. But I guess she’d proved that long before now. She loomed over me, her face in shadows with the light from the back porch shining behind her like an eerie glowing shroud.
“I knew we’d have a breakthrough, Annie.” Her words were practically gleeful, and it sickened me to think of everything she’d done to get to this point.
Pushing up so that I sat on my heels, I tried to contain a moan of pain that lanced through my side. Munro said my name like a plea cast into the night, but I blocked it out, more certain than ever of what I needed to do.
“Give me your hand,” I said, all emotion shut off as I treated this like a clinical exchange.
Hattie was practically salivating as she held out her hand. Touching her swallowing down bile, fighting not to be sick. Her hands were soft as if she pampered them and feeling something so tangible and real from someone who had carried out so many acts of atrocity seemed wrong. Trying to touch her as little as possible, I gripped the ends of her fingers. With her standing over me, looking down with a disgusted sneer on her face, she looked like a queen lording over a groveling subject.
But none of that mattered. The only important thing was protecting the people I loved. I retreated into my mind and connected to my magic. I felt the golden strands woven inside each of my cells, vibrating with an immense power, just waiting to be tapped. Munro’s magic was there, merged with mine, unified in a perfect symphony of nature and power. The joining of our magic was as it should be. It belonged together and even though it was an intangible thing, it felt happier now that we were connected. But beneath our combined essence was a third thread of magic. On some level, I’d always known it was there, my magic and this other protective magic, but I just never understood how to differentiate between them. It was my mother’s magic. What she’d used to protect me before she died. It was the magic she had given up completely to keep me safe. It was warm and comforting, and it felt like my mother.
It was agony to part with it, but I knew it was the only way. With a little thank you to my mother, I separated it from my other magic. It still held that feeling of protection and as I thrust the magic toward Hattie, giving her what she thought she wanted, the sparks moving effortlessly in response to my command. I felt the moment it left me and went into Hattie because its absence was like a gaping hole inside of my soul. Hattie must have felt it too because she freed her hand and started chuckling.
I collapsed to the ground, too tired and hurt to sit upright. Hattie looked down at me, shaking her head in disgust.
“I should just say thank you and get on the plane to Ireland. But I think we both know that isn’t going to happen.” She raised her hand and slashed it through the air, and I knew she’d cast a spell to finish me off, and in doing so would kill Munro too. But nothing happened.
She tried again, her movements becoming more forceful and jerkier. “Why won’t you die?” she screamed.
I pushed myself up, gathering every molecule of magic that rested within me and bundled it up into a banishing spell. All I had to do was think about sending the magic out to Hattie, and it hit her in the chest, a ball of golden light stretching across her skin like a molten web, growing until it covered her entire body.
“Leave. Never come back here,” I commanded and saw the shock in Hattie’s eyes as she began to walk away despite wanting to end me. But she couldn’t fight me because my magic was ultimately stronger than hers. Even though she had my mother’s magic. She couldn’t hurt me, and she couldn’t fight my spell.
“Leave this town, Hattie. I never want to see you here again.” My words were low and quiet, but they were full of strength and had power behind them. She would not be coming back.
Hattie turned and walked away like her limbs were being directed by a puppet master. I supposed they were. I could feel her fighting against the banishing spell I’d casted, but there was also the protection spell that my mother had given me. Every particle of her magic was infused with that spell and now that it was inside her, she was helpless to obey my command. Between my mother’s magic, and mine and Munro’s, they were all grounded in love and that wasn’t something she could fight.
Once she was out of sight, I staggered to my feet, the severity of Munro’s injury coming back to hit me with the full force now that the adrenaline from my fight with Hattie was wearing off. I fell to my knees beside him, grabbing his hand as black dots danced on the edge of my vision. I couldn’t pass out. If I passed out, we would die. Both of us. I had to heal him. To heal us both.
I was barely staying conscious, but I had to get the branch out of him.
“I’m sorry,” I said. With one hand braced on the ground for support, I used my other hand to grab hold of the branch.
“Just do it,” he gasped out, his breathing shallow and his words weak. Blood soaked his shirt and pooled beneath him. The ground too cold to absorb the life that was flowing out of him. He was so pale and was shivering, probably from the shock of losing so much blood. I didn’t make the connection at first, but after a moment I realized my own teeth were chattering as I suffered a similar reaction to the injury. And everything that had just happened.
With a sickening sound, I pulled the branch out, and we both screamed as the shared pain leveled us. Falling to the ground in agony, I managed to land by his side instead of on top of him. I found his hand and held it in mine as I pushed out the last bits of magic I could summon. Shoving them into our bond where it flared and glowed as it began to heal the worst parts of his injury.
The more I healed him, the less I hurt, but my magic was nearly tapped out. I may have been more powerful from the blood magic, but I still didn’t know how to wield it with any kind of expertise. I was basically just throwing him everything I had left in me. And when I knew Munro would be okay, I passed out.
Chapter 20
The door to our cottage slammed open as our mother hurried inside.
“Áine, where is your sister?” Her voice was steeped in concern. She was a kind woman who never stopped working and was always tending to the people of our village. Her hands were chafed and raw from constantly being soaked in the potions and tonics she created for our neighbors. But she was strong of mind and body, even if tired most of the time.
She was always gone helping others, but my sister and I were old enough to see after ourselves. We often helped her by working on her potions to free up her time to see people in need. She was well respected by th
e people of our small community despite the occasional murmurs of witch that were sometimes whispered about her.
“What is it, Mama?” I asked, seeing how her whole body was tensed.
She turned her warm brown eyes to take me in and pulled me into an embrace. “Have you seen your sister?”
Cailleach had been disappearing for long periods of time lately. She wouldn’t tell me where she’d been going, but each time she returned she’d stink of magic. Not her natural magic that had the crisp clean scent of snow, but a sticky, oily smell, like singed hair.
“I haven’t seen her these past two days,” I told Mama, and she bit her lip anxiously.
“I think she’s done something bad,” my mother whispered as if afraid the walls would overhear and spread our secrets.
“What has she done?” I replied just as softly, as I gripped her shoulders too tightly.
“Someone has taken the hearts of two men in the village.”
All color drained from my face, and my limbs went numb. “Who? Why? Why would you think she’d done that?”
My mother wasn’t born with magic like my sister and me, but she had an inherent sense of it and a talent for potion making. She’d told us that it had allowed her to see our father when others couldn’t. It had also drawn them together.
“I could smell the magic, Áine. It felt like Cailleach but altered. I’m afraid for her. What has she done?” A tear slipped over my mother’s cheek, and I struggled not to collapse with my own tears. But I held it together as I held my mother. Knowing she needed my strength to keep from falling apart.
Fear pricked my skin as I worried about the news that my mother had shared. “Who where they, Mama?” My hands trembled as I gripped at my mother’s sleeves.
“Two travelers coming through town,” she said with a cracked voice, and I wiped away an escaped tear quickly before mama saw it. As horrible as it was that those men were dead, I was so relieved it wasn’t Connall. This time. The thought echoed in my head, and I knew it was only a matter of time before Cailleach came after him again. She’d truly lost her center, and who knew what she would do next. She had to be stopped.
My cheeks were damp with tears as fragments of my dream drifted in and out of my memory. The sounds of people talking quietly seeped into my sleeping brain. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I sensed they were close by. Opening my eyes, I was surprised to find myself lying on Munro’s couch. Although why I continued to be surprised when I ended up there was beyond me. I’d take a week of not passing out for my Christmas present if at all possible.
Ryan and Munro were standing in the kitchen talking, much like they’d been the last time I’d woken up on their couch. Only this time it was just them, no Lola, no Butch. I sat up, and the room swam as dizziness assaulted me, and I had to close my eyes and grab the back of the couch to steady myself. One of them must have heard the movement because they were both in front of me by the time I opened my eyes.
“Annie, are you okay?” Munro asked, pressing his hand gently against my cheek. The spark between us was strong and warm, and I leaned into his hand unconsciously.
“Just a little dizzy,” I said, but the words stuck in my throat. “And thirsty.”
Ryan hurried back into the kitchen and returned moments later with a glass of water. I took a long drink before offering my thanks.
“Are you guys okay?” I looked over both of them. Munro was still wearing his ripped and bloody shirt, but he seemed to be moving around without any pain. The last I’d seen Ryan, he was crumbled against the side of the house from whatever spell Hattie had thrown at him.
“We’re good. Both of us,” Munro replied, and Ryan nodded in agreement.
“Annie, what happened out there? How did you make Hattie leave?”
I took another long drink of water, looking down at my hands and finding my nails coated in dirt from when I’d sunk them into the ground. My shirt was also covered in dirt and blood too. Probably both mine and Munro’s. I needed a hot shower.
“I gave her my mom’s magic.”
Ryan gasped as though horrified, and Munro looked shocked.
“Annie, why would you do that?” Ryan finally asked, and I could tell he was trying to keep the censure from his voice.
My rationale had seemed to make complete sense in the heat of the moment, but now that I had to explain myself it was starting to seem more and more foolish.
I cleared my throat. “I knew that my mom had given me all of her magic when she created the protection spell. Hattie had said that’s what made it so powerful.” I paused, trying to think of how to best explain everything. “When we connected our magic, I could feel the different threads of magic inside of me. I could feel my magic and yours.” I looked up at Munro. “I also sensed my mother’s, and the prevailing essence of her magic was protection. She gave up her magic to make sure I was safe, and that protection was somehow bound to her essence.”
It must have dawned on Munro why I’d decided to give that protection away because his tense shoulders relaxed, but I spoke the words out loud anyway. Needing to say them as if they would honor my mom’s sacrifice. “By giving her magic to Hattie, I transferred that protection with it. Hattie can’t use magic to hurt me anymore. She tried, and it didn’t work. Her own magic will fight against her to protect me. Like it nulled her magic that wanted to do me harm.”
Ryan flopped down into one of the chairs and let out a small huff of disbelieving laughter.
“Amazing, Annie. Amazing.”
Munro sat on the coffee table in front of me and gently cupped my cheeks, shaking his head as he looked at me, his gray eyes full of amazement and relief.
“Amazing,” he whispered in agreement before brushing a soft kiss over my lips. He pulled back after just an instant, but it was long enough that I felt a blush flare-up over my cheeks because Ryan was only a few feet away.
“I saw nothing,” he said casually, proving that he had indeed seen something.
My smile fell when the relief that we were all okay was eclipsed by the reality of what was coming next. “Hattie is going to unleash the first witch,” I said, feeling weary and tired of this fight already.
Munro looked just as worn out as I felt, but he grabbed my hands and brushed his thumbs over my palms. “Feel like meeting my gran?” he said with just a hint of a smile crossing his weary expression.
My mind was too muddled from everything that had happened over the last week, so I just stared at him dumbly. The meaning behind his question not sinking in. “Huh?”
My dopey response only made his grin widen. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, which was a joke because it was full of dirt and looked like I’d taken a stroll through a tornado.
“Hattie’s heading for Ireland. We have to stop her from raising the first witch.” He looked at me sympathetically, understanding the level of fatigue I was fighting because he could feel it through our bond. And probably see it written all over my face.
“Oh.” My eyes opened wide as I realized what he was saying. We were going on a trip. “Okay, then. Ireland it is.”
Ryan nodded and jumped up as if on a mission. “I’ll start getting things organized.”
Munro slid forward on the coffee table, leaning closer to me. He moved his hands back up to my face and brushed his thumb over my cheekbones, looking at me like I was a revelation. No one in my entire life had ever looked at me like that, and it was making my heart sputter and trip as I tried to absorb every minute expression that passed over his face.
“I want things to be right between us.”
I nodded, feeling slightly drunk, on both the emotion and the weariness. “They are. We are,” was all I could seem to get out.
Munro closed the distance between us, brushing his lips softly over mine. Just that one soft touch had goosebumps racing over every inch of my body. I parted my lips on a small gasp, and he took advantage of the opening, touching his tongue to mine. I was lost in his taste, our magi
c was still bonded and rising up to bloom in the kiss, but this time it wasn’t raging dangerously out of control. It was as if our magic wanted to be bonded from the first and now that it was linked, the magic was content and simmered beneath our skin like a heated vibration.
Munro pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes alight with desire and awe. He was breathing hard from just one simple kiss, and I knew he was as floored as I was. As if his tether snapped, he pulled me to him and all gentleness disappeared. It was replaced by a fierce need, a desperate longing to make up for lost time. He tilted my head and devoured my mouth, making my entire body sag with relief or need or some unnamed feeling that had me boneless.
With a strength that was beyond impressive, he grabbed me off the couch and lifted me to straddle his lap. His hands slid up my back, fisting my shirt as if he had to grab something hard and was trying not to hurt me. I broke off the kiss with a gasp and tipped my head back as he ran his lips down the column of my throat. I should have been embarrassed by the little sounds that kept escaping me, but all I cared about was how Munro was making me feel. Like I was perfect and desirable and on fire.
Just as quickly, Munro tossed me on to the couch and scrambled to the other end. I blinked blankly trying to figure out what had just happened and why he looked like a guilty child. I shot him a confused look when I heard the loud clunking of a group of people coming in through the front door. Munro’s nostrils flared as he pressed his lips together, trying not to burst out laughing. Maybe making out in the living room wasn’t the smartest choice.
Munro stayed seated, but I jumped up and headed to the front door to meet everyone. I just hoped the flush on my face would be masked by the mess of my dirty appearance from the fight. Butch was helping Mari, who was hobbling on one crutch, and Theo and Lola were bringing up the rear looking tired but relieved. That was short-lived when they saw me standing at the entry looking like I’d been dragged through the dirt. Everyone stopped and stared with mouths hanging open.
