by Cheree Alsop
Virgo’s silence nagged at me. I couldn’t help feeling like I had said the entirely wrong thing.
“I’m not really good at this stuff,” I told him. “I’m sorry if I’m not much help.” I looked away and admitted, “Dealing with parents isn’t exactly one of my strong points.”
I also really wasn’t used to apologizing. It was considered a weakness at the Lair. One of the strangest parts of spending so much time around humans was realizing that things like admitting mistakes or weaknesses was considered a strength. In my mind, it was a backwards way of thinking that was going to take some time to settle in.
Virgo shoved his hands in his pockets. “I shouldn’t expect you to understand.” Before I could start second-guessing my words, he continued with, “But what you said actually helped.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s just hard to know how to deal with this. I wasn’t really prepared for the ‘your father is a dark warlock trying to take over the world’ scenario.” He looked at me. “But you’re right. I’ll choose how to deal with it. Just because he went dark doesn’t mean I have to.” He gave his head a sharp shake. “And I won’t. Because that’s not who I am.”
I nodded. “Just stay real to who you are.”
Virgo threw me a smile. “For someone who’s not good at this, you’re pretty good at this.”
I chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”
“Thank you,” he replied.
I lost track of how long we waited there. The sun had gone down a while ago. Only a faint line of gray lit the western sky. I could feel the light of the full moon attempting to shine through the clouds. It made my skin crawl with the want to be a wolf. When I focused on it, sharp, stabbing pain knifed through my chest with such intensity I didn’t want to try again. So I ignored it, or attempted to, anyway.
My senses strained, waiting for the sign that one of the werewolves had been spotted. But they were too well-trained for that. If they took down any of the risen dead heading for Brickwell, we didn’t hear of it. Nobody left the house. I could only assume by the lack of movement or sounds that the dark coven was back at the clearing.
Virgo’s pocket buzzed. He pulled his phone out and looked at the screen.
“They’re almost here.”
“Let’s meet them at the road,” I suggested.
“Hold on,” the warlock told me. He opened the door of the truck and grabbed something from the seat. When he held them out to me, I recognized a pair of blades from the box of weapons Mrs. Willard had kept from her husband. “I told my mom you couldn’t phase, and she told Mrs. Willard who wanted you to have these.” He gave me an apologetic shrug. “Sorry about that. I forget how much they talk. I’ll remember the weaknesses thing from now on.”
“Apology accepted,” I replied, taking the knives. “These will help.”
I didn’t have to test them to know that the blades were silver. The leather that wrapped the handles protected me from the caustic metal, but they would tear through the undead with ease. I fastened the sheath at my waist, grateful to have something besides my bare hands to fight with.
We reached the end of the overgrown walkway just as Mrs. Stein’s car pulled up. None of the witches said a word when they climbed out. Isley was the last to leave the vehicle. When I looked at her, she refused to meet my gaze.
“We need to be ready as soon as they remove the cloud cover,” Madam Anna said in a whisper as she led the way toward the forest.
“They can do that?” I replied in surprise.
“They’ll do much more than that,” Madam Doxy said, her tone grim. “We’d best be on alert.”
“The werewolves are waiting for my signal,” I told her.
“Impressive that you can control those beasts,” Madam Anna said.
I avoided pointing out that I was one of those beasts. I didn’t need the witches shooting me again.
We crept around the house in single file. Mrs. Stein led the way with Madam Anna close behind. I followed Virgo and Isley, careful to keep my distance so I didn’t spook her. Fortunately, she seemed too nervous about what was to come to give me a second thought. I didn’t know if I felt better about that or worse.
Chapter Fourteen
“We need to hurry,” Madam Henrietta said. “I can feel it starting.”
“Look at that,” Virgo whispered.
The dark clouds above us were pulling apart as if by two giant hands. In the middle, the full moon shone through. Half of it was red already with the shading of the blood moon. The wolf surged painfully beneath my skin. The werewolves would be phasing. I wished I could join them. Battling the risen dead would be so much easier in that form.
We hurried behind the witches to the forest. The dead walked around us, the focus of their milky white eyes intent on the clearing. They barely appeared to notice us. We gave them a wide berth nonetheless.
I caught glimpses of the werewolves in their wolf forms stalking through the shadows. The blood moon cast an eerie light in the night sky, giving the air an unnatural aura. The voice in the back of my mind whispered that the clearing would be a good place to leave alone if I wished to survive until morning.
We stopped at the edge and stared. Hundreds of risen dead filled the meadow between the chanting dark coven witches and warlocks. The twisted sound of their words set my teeth on edge. Clay stood in the middle of the platform with Professor Shipley’s wife kneeling hostage at his side. Blood from a sheep that had been sacrificed on the altar beside him ran down his arms and bare chest. He chanted from a book on a podium in front of him and his followers repeated the words in monotone voices.
A huge fire roared in front of the warlock that was red and white as if it contained the same light as the moon. The mist around the clearing took on a reddish hue and the dead shambled closer to the fire as if drawn by some unseen hand.
An unnaturally tall form in a mist of swirling black appeared at the edge of the clearing. I glanced that way and my throat tightened when I realized who it was.
“The Ankou has come,” Mrs. Stein whispered. “We’re nearly out of time.”
“Isley, it’s your turn,” Madam Anna said.
Before I could ask what the witch meant, Isley lifted her hands to the moon.
“Just like we practiced,” Mrs. Stein urged. “Say the words with authority and the light will respond.”
“The light that I see, I bind you to me,” Isley said.
My mouth dropped open when the blood moon dimmed above and Isley began to glow.
“Again,” Madam Anna whispered.
Isley repeated the words louder and with more certainty this time. “The light that I see, I bind you to me!”
The moon brightened and then its light vanished altogether. In front of me, Isley glowed with the half-red, half-white hue of the lunar body. The risen dead turned toward the new source of light and moans escaped from their gaping mouths.
“No!” Clay roared from his place on the platform. His face was illuminated by the roaring flames in front of him that had turned from red and white to nearly black.
“Zev and Virgo, protect her!” Mrs. Stein commanded. She turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
The dead swarmed toward Isley. She blinked at them slowly as if unable to comprehend what was happening. The glow from her body was so bright I could barely look at her. It was obvious the strain of holding it all was taking its toll. She was completely defenseless. I pulled the knives from the sheath at my waist and stepped in front of her. Virgo chanted several words in Latin and the runes on his hands began to glow. A shield of light formed in front of him. He crossed to my side.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” I replied.
The risen dead didn’t slow when they reached us. The impact of bodies threw us back, but Virgo’s shield shoved them forward again. I darted through it and cut down as many of the dead as I could reach. Only a knife in the back of the skull stopped their rush. But there were so many I couldn’t get to them all. The crowd sur
ged around us, their outstretched hands intent on grabbing Isley.
Panic filled me. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t stop them all. There were far too many, and she was their only target.
I put my hands to my mouth and howled. I hoped the wolves could hear me above the moans that rose in pitch and fervor with their want to reach Isley. If the wolves couldn’t hear my signal, we would all be lost. I stepped away from the protection of Virgo’s shield again, intent on protecting them with my life.
Five of the risen dead pinned me against a tree. I sliced across the eyes of one, dropped to my knees and hamstrung another, then rose to finish the first, but a knife was knocked from my hand by the bony arm of a hulking beast of a man.
I lunged for it, but he grabbed my ankle in a crushing grip. Another group of undead rushed past.
“No!” I shouted.
I looked up, sure I was about to see Isley slain within the fray.
The dead surged against Virgo’s shield. It faltered and then sputtered out. The two of them fell back. Just before the dead could reach Isley, four-footed shadows leaped at the crowd. Wolves pulled the dead down on all sides. Their massive jaws crushed skulls and severed spines, stopping the dead where they lay. Howls sounded around the clearing as the werewolves called for the others.
Nearly weak with relief, I twisted from the giant’s grip and, using another dead as leverage, jumped onto his back and slammed my knife into the base of his neck. I leaped off when he plummeted forward, rolled when I hit the ground, and scooped up the knife I had dropped.
But the dead outnumbered the werewolves by far. The yelp of one of my comrades was followed by a howl of pain from another. Hordes of risen dead pressed in, overwhelming them by sheer numbers. The witches who had appeared at the edges of the clearing cast binding spells, but the dead were too many. They couldn’t hold them all.
I jumped into the fray and stabbed right and left, tearing heads from shoulders and finding the base of the skull from all angles. I cleared a thrashing horde of dead from on top of Mitch. The wolf shook himself free and lunged at two who had made their way past Virgo’s newly fortified defense to Isley. I took down two more, spun, and sunk my knife deep into another neck.
“You can’t stop this, Rosy. It’s bigger than either of us.”
I looked toward the platform to see members of the dark coven struggling to hold the witches back. Half a dozen of them surrounded Madam Anna and Madam Henrietta and the witches they had brought with them. I couldn’t see Madam Doxy anywhere.
Mrs. Stein had reached the dais. Two dark coven witches stood between her and where her husband held Kristen Shipley hostage. Clay had the book in one hand. He read something and the fire beside him turned from black to red again.
“It’s already begun,” he said. “The dead are rising. You can’t stop them now! Give me the moonlight back!”
I took down three more dead and tripped. Looking down, I found myself staring into the lifeless eyes of John, the red-haired werewolf who had been so good with a bow staff. A yell escaped me as I cut down the three dead who had torn him apart.
“This is wrong and evil, Clay,” Mrs. Stein said with tears running down her cheeks. “This isn’t you. You’re possessed!”
“This is me, Rosy,” he replied. “I am finally completely sure of what I am doing. It’s time that we stop hiding. We can step into the light and take our rightful place as rulers of this world! That is where we are meant to be!”
I found myself at the edge of the clearing with a view of the platform. No dead were within my reach. I struggled to catch my breath.
“You raised the dead, Clay,” Mrs. Stein replied. “This isn’t right. It’s darkness.” She gestured to the figure of dark mist who was watching at the edge of the clearing. “Return them to the Ankou. Let her take them home.”
I realized with a start that the figure was a tall female with long arms and legs, and with long black hair. Her cloak of swirling mist covered a dress of the darkest midnight.
“She has no place here,” Clay replied. “Their souls are mine to command as well as their bodies. They will do whatever I say. Watch!”
At his word, two of the risen dead walked into the fire. The Ankou took a step forward, but she didn’t try to stop them. Shrieks of pain rose from the dead before they collapsed into the flames.
“Nobody should have that kind of power,” Mrs. Stein said. “You must release them!”
“Nobody can release them,” Clay replied in a growl. “I thought you of all people would appreciate what I’m doing. Witches and warlocks shouldn’t have to live in hiding anymore. Our children can be who they are in the open without being afraid!”
“Don’t pretend you’re doing it for us,” Virgo shouted.
Clay’s eyes widened and he looked to my left.
“Virgo,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. For a moment he appeared taken aback as if he regretted his actions, then his expression hardened and he grinned. “See what you can do with the power you were given?”
“True power doesn’t cause pain to others,” Virgo replied; his voice was one of steel despite the tears in his eyes. “This is wrong and you know it. Let them go!”
“You’re wrong, son,” Clay replied. “And I’m sorry you can’t see it that way, but someday you will, once you see what I have done. Once the humans stop burning us at the stake and forcing us to hide what we are.”
“That was ages ago,” Mrs. Stein said. “We can live in peace. We don’t need this!”
“You might not,” Clay replied. “But you’re not mine any longer. I have a new bride now.” He pulled Kristen to her feet. “Say the words,” he commanded.
The woman looked absolutely terrified. She glanced from Mrs. Stein to the fire. Her hands shook and tears of fear filled her eyes.
“I-I can’t,” she said.
Clay put a hand on her head and spoke an incantation in a language I didn’t recognize. Kristen’s face calmed and the fear left her eyes. She looked at Clay and said, “I will be your wife.”
“And I will be your husband,” the warlock replied.
He took a small blade and sliced his palm, then did the same to Kristen. She didn’t acknowledge the pain. Mrs. Stein struggled against the witches, but she couldn’t break through. Clay took Kristen’s hand in his and wrapped a cloth around them, binding their hands together.
The Ankou tried to reach the dais, but she stopped short as if she hit an invisible barrier.
“What’s wrong?” Clay asked. “Can’t protect your souls any longer?” His voice darkened and he said, “Give them up. They are mine now. There’s nothing you can do.”
“There is nothing I can do,” the Ankou replied. Her voice was haunting with its sorrow. I had never thought of the Angel of Death having compassion for those she took away, but it was clear in the woman’s pale expression that she cared for the dead who had risen around us. “I cannot guide souls stuck in the wrong world. I cannot free them.”
“But I can.”
I followed Mrs. Stein’s gaze to the fire. Virgo’s words rose in my mind. “The only way to stop the type of raising of the dead that the dark coven is trying to do, is with a completely pure sacrifice. The raising of an impure form of life needs a pure life to make amends and settle the dead.”
You can stop them, the voice in my mind said. You are strong enough. Take the warlock into the flames. Sacrifice yourself. Pay the price with your life.
I had taken several steps toward the dais when the memory of Aspen’s words struck me from our conversation in the Willards’ basement in the early hours of a morning that felt like ages ago. “Borig said that if you go with the Ankou, everyone who is with you will die.” Her voice hadn’t wavered, and I had to believe her fully when she continued with, “He said it will be your choice, but if you make the wrong one, it’ll all be on your head.”
I stopped walking. The cries of dying werewolves and the moans and gnashing teeth of the dead who swarmed
my friends pressed in from every side. I gripped the knives so tightly they cut into my palms. I wanted to end it all; throwing myself into the fire would do that. But Aspen’s warning froze my feet to the ground. She had told me once that my soul was dark, and my body’s reaction to Isley’s light seconded it. A pure life was necessary to end the rising of the dead, and my life was anything but pure. If you go with the Ankou, everyone who is with you will die.
I stayed rooted to the spot, unable to take the action I so wanted to. My soul was too dark to help, and it hurt to acknowledge that.
Mrs. Stein’s words broke through my thoughts and echoed around the clearing. “I will stop it,” she said.
Icy shards struck my heart at what she meant. She would take the action I couldn’t. She would be the one to stop it. The same thought appeared to hit Virgo as it did me.
“Mom, no!” he shouted.
She met his eyes across the clearing. Determination and a touch of fear showed in her gaze, but she lifted her chin and said, “I love you, my son.”
Before Clay could figure out what she was doing, Mrs. Stein stepped off the platform into the flames.
“No!” the warlock shouted. He reached out to grab her, but the red fire surged high, shielding her from sight. Clay stumbled back, his mouth open and face pale.
The ground shook with a massive earthquake. Trees fell, boulders rolled, and massive cracks broke the earth. Around us, the risen dead collapsed in piles. Their moans and gnashing teeth silenced. The dust settled, the earth’s protest against the dark magic ceased, and the mist lightened to white again. The darkness of the clearing faded as Isley returned the light to the moon.
Virgo ran toward the dais.
“You killed my mother!” he shouted.
Lightning shot from my friend’s hands.
His father motioned and the bursts of electricity struck the platform on either side of him. The warlock glared at his son.
