Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2

by Daniel De Lorne

  “I’m here to help you unlock your visions.”

  He leaned back, folded his arms across his chest and flicked up his chin. “Elaine sent you?” The cocky way he said it spoke more about his own prejudices than any prophecy.

  “No, actually, I came because I thought I could help you.”

  “And she doesn’t stand to gain from this?”

  “We all gain from you fulfilling your potential, Hame. Even you.”

  She expected him to scoff and slide away from her gaze, but instead he deflated. The bravado had been an act—perhaps a last attempt to evade that which he already knew was going to come to pass.

  “Your vision told you I was going to help you, didn’t it?”

  “In a way. I saw you at the door with the food and with it came a knowing that if you came inside, I’d never be rid of you.”

  “You make me sound like a nuisance.”

  “How would you feel if someone showed up to give you everything you thought you would never have?”

  “I know all too well.”

  “Really? Then tell me. I’m interested to hear what you have to say about it.”

  He thought she was a child, too young to run with the older boys. Olivier had condescended the same and the tone had rankled her then, as it did now.

  “You don’t trust it because it’s something you’ve been denied so long. You think it’s going to be taken away at the last moment, and you couldn’t bear the pain if that happened.” She looked down at her lap. “And then, when you do get it, it’s not what you thought you wanted at all. It’s worse, much, much worse. Because nothing is given freely. It all comes with a terrible weight that you’re not sure you can hold.” She looked at him and cocked her head to the right. “Does that sound familiar?”

  She couldn’t help the razor-cut in her voice. His arrogance had drawn blood and she had to defend herself.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

  “It doesn’t matter. The fact remains that you have a gift, and you are being pushed towards it. I’m already in the door so you can either mope about it for another day or two and then begin, or you can forget the self-pity and get started now.” She hadn’t meant to speak so harshly, but she was glad she had been able to use that emotion to encourage him, rather than go for the jugular. If it had been anyone but Hame…

  “You don’t hold back, do you?”

  “You’ve met my mother.”

  He laughed and the sound resonated in her breast, dislodging the last defensive shards. Happiness looked good on him, and that strengthened her resolve. There was hard work ahead, but for the first time in a long while she had hope.

  After they’d eaten, she cleared a space and set up a wooden bowl for him to scry with. He told her it would be no use, but she rode over his objections and gave him the instructions anyway, then left the hut. Though she wanted to watch him, she knew from experience how distracting it could be. But it made little difference to his abilities. Hours passed, and she began to doubt the vision he’d had of her. When she stuck her head in to check on him, he’d sunk low into his chair and pulled his hair forward to hide his face.

  All of a sudden, he swept the bowl off the table and water sprayed across the room. He slammed his fists down, making the table jump, and then stormed past her, growling and muttering as he went. He marched over to the woodpile, picked up the axe and his grumbling gave way to the sound of wood splintering. She twitched with each blow. She went inside, picked up the bowl, dipped it into the bucket and put it, half-full, back on the table.

  Maybe scrying wasn’t how he was meant to tap into his abilities. Perhaps they’d been wrong about it, but it had seemed a good place to start. However, instead of easing him into his greater skill, it agitated like a sandstorm. It whipped her too. Even with him out of the cottage, it still whirled within her, its center humming a sorrow charged with his failure.

  Her heart skipped.

  He’s projecting.

  This wasn’t some imagined empathy. She really was holding herself—her mind—against the brunt of this tempest.

  “Of course!” she said.

  He’d contacted her before when Loic was dying, so why not again? It might not help him see the future, but it would remind him that his mind could achieve the unexpected.

  She opened her mouth to call out to him but stopped. There was no time to waste on discussion. She had to show him. She needed to get his attention, but she had to go gently, like knocking when asking to enter someone’s home. She used that idea to build a picture inside her mind. Then, with a shift of perspective, projected it out.

  She imagined she walked down a path that led to a cottage, much like his own. With each step she got closer to him. A grey mist leaked beneath the door and limped along the path. Soon she stood in it, her toes lost beneath the sticky fog. She hesitated, conscious that whatever emotions broiled within him would likely flow out and engulf her. She steeled herself, reached up and knocked gently three times.

  The fog sucked back in, gone, as if it had never been. He’d felt her and sought to protect himself. She knocked again, this time calling his name. The handle turned and the door opened a crack. He peered out of darkness so thick she could barely make out his form.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  He blinked. “How are you doing this?”

  “We’re doing it, Hame. Together. And if you can do this, then you can scry, and you can bring forth the prophecies.”

  She told him what she’d done, how she’d imagined a path, and he took it in.

  “Let me try,” he said, and shut her out.

  She pulled back, let the imagery fade and opened her eyes. She waited, but after a while nothing came, and she began to fear he’d not managed to master this either.

  If you don’t have faith, then how do you expect me to have any?

  The sudden appearance of his chuckling voice inside her head shook her like a quake splitting the ground. Great fissures appeared at having him so close without her knowing. She clutched her head in her hands, squeezing against her temples as the pressure within her head expanded to expel him from her mind.

  Real arms locked around her and she lashed out with her magic. She couldn’t be touched, not after being so open and defenseless. Once Elaine had trained her, she had never wanted to be so vulnerable again. She heaved a great breath, her chest expanding and contracting, and all she could feel was a sinister tongue in her ear, a rough hand between her legs, and a violation so deep she’d thought it buried long ago.

  When nothing else came for her and she could finally separate her memories from the present, her breathing eased, her heart slowed its frenetic pace, and she opened her eyes. Hame slumped unconscious against the wall.

  “Oh God, what have I done?” She ran to him, placing one hand on his chest, the other against his cheek. He breathed. Thank Christ, he breathed. “Hame, wake up!”

  She shook him harder, his bulk almost too heavy to move. She summoned an acrid breeze to waft under his nose. His head twitched and shot back. He blinked rapidly, looking at her as if she were going to strike him again then slowly raised his hand, the back of it an inch from her face. She didn’t pull back, and his hand slid down her cheek. She eased into it, hoping his touch would wipe away the filthy smear that Henri had left behind.

  XIII

  Elaine shot into the astral, the tension she’d gathered during her preparation enough to send her flying into its higher levels. She didn’t seek the demon. She didn’t even think his name. She jettisoned the negative emotions weighing her down. Guilt, revenge, hate, all cut away.

  She held on to happy memories, proud moments when Aurelia had shown great aptitude, or even simply smiled and hugged her. They added extra lift. While it would be harder for the demon to ascend to such heights, she nevertheless surrounded herself with protective shields, weaving in defenses and alarms, and overlaying it all with a pentagram.

  She searched for an oracle. She had on
ly known of Loic, and he’d said that only a handful of oracles existed at any one time. While she hoped Hame would thrive under Aurelia’s tutelage, she needed a contingency. If he couldn’t divine the future, or if anything were to happen to him, she would be blind.

  In her flight, she left the earth behind and soared into a grey world that held no solid form. Up this high, the light was composed of more white than black. The astral expanded and contracted at will, aiding those who knew how to control it. This place offered the best chance of finding an oracle, and to do that she needed a beacon. She created a clearing in a forest, and in its center, she built a temple with a domed roof. Around the outside she carved into the stone the three Delphic phrases and imbued them with the power to attract a soothsayer.

  She stood at the edge of this unreal place, looking out at the mist, and waited. Time passed without any discernible rhythm. The only thing telling her that she had been here a while was the weariness chewing on her concentration.

  She tried to remain light but the longer she waited, the harder it became to do so. Her will wavered, tiredness letting in the doubts that stole like a virus through her body. She would soon have to abandon this search.

  The oracle’s place faded a little, and she was about to disperse it when a purple light appeared in the distance. Strengthened by the appearance of such a mystical shade, she tapped a reserve of strength. The temple hardened as if made of real marble. She even heard the leaves rustling.

  The light approached, oblong in shape, about as tall as a person, but as yet it lacked features. She stepped back, checked her shields. It was unlikely to be anything sinister this far up, but too many near misses had finally taught her not to take anything for granted.

  The violet light floated nearer, and then gradually, deep within it, a person emerged. A man strode across the mist and each step revealed more of who he was. Familiarity sliced her open, and her hands shot to her mouth.

  It couldn’t be.

  Not here. Not now.

  But there was no denying it.

  And even as the tears flowed—tears that shouldn’t have existed here on the astral—she knew who he was. He stopped two feet away from her and smiled that warm and happy smile that had always been such a part of him.

  “Loic!”

  She sobbed, and he embraced her. His body was real, his scent filling her head.

  But how?

  He sighed. “My Elaine.”

  She pulled away from him.

  “How is it that you’re here? I…I saw you die.”

  “And I am dead. I waited for you to come, but I don’t have long. My soul needs rest.”

  He slipped his hand into hers. For all the urgency in his words, they could have been strolling through a field on a warm afternoon discussing the flight of sparrows. At first, she itched to hear what he had to say, but the feel of his hand enclosing hers and the peace he exuded blanketed her, and she wished they’d never part. They walked to the temple, and he peered in.

  “Impressive,” he said, “though I always preferred something more natural.” He turned and sat on the steps, patting the marble.

  She joined him, and the need to atone for her failure broke free. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

  “Rest easy, dear heart. There was nothing you could have done.”

  He didn’t understand what it meant to her to lose him. “But your death was—”

  “I know you blame yourself, but it was not your fault. I lived a good life and died in service to a cause I believed in.”

  His words didn’t wipe away her guilt, but they relieved some of the sting. “I have tried to help Hame. I know how much he meant to you.”

  “I am not worried about him. It is you I am here for.”

  “What have you seen?”

  “Xadrak can be beaten, but it will not be easy.”

  “Nothing ever is.”

  “He will create an army. The longer he stays in the astral realm, the more his power and his reach will grow. Witches will flock to him with his promises of stronger magic.”

  “An army? How do I kill him?” She was strong, but she couldn’t defeat a battalion alone.

  “You cannot kill him on the higher realm, or anywhere on Earth. Only back in Crion can he be truly slain.”

  “But without the key, that’s not possible.” Her breath caught. “Have you seen it?”

  “I wish I had happier news for you, but it remains hidden.”

  “Then how do I stop his power?”

  “While you live, you will never be strong enough. You may be the strongest of the witches on Earth, but up here he is akin to a god. You cannot command both.”

  Elaine understood, but she was almost too afraid to speak it, as if doing so would pull apart the threads of her being. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath to steady herself. “And if I were here with him?”

  “The gateway to the world of the dead is easier to open in the astral realm. Push him through it, and he will be trapped in blood and bone.”

  “I can’t send him back. It would put Aurelia in too much peril.” Her daughter was an adept witch. Once she’d mastered scrying, it hadn’t been long before she could travel too. But facing Xadrak would be too much for her.

  “As a mortal, did you have full knowledge of your power, or did it awaken within you? Did he know his true nature, even when it tried to break out of him?”

  “No, but what if—”

  “Aurelia shall guard the Earth while you harry him on this plane. There, his true nature will always be muted. He will be strong but not invincible.”

  Her belly plummeted. She had to leave her children behind again. Her control frayed and the remains lashed her.

  “I am sorry, Elaine. I know how much you wanted to stay with Aurelia, but the truth is you and your family are sacrifices. They always were and always will be, but their purpose is pure, and the price matches the magnitude of the gift you will give this world.”

  “Why must it be me?” she demanded. “I fought him in one lifetime—why must I devote the rest of them to seeing him vanquished?”

  “You could no more turn your back on this than you could have abandoned Aurelia forever. That is not who you are. Do not deny yourself the pride and the strength that comes from knowing your love and your duty are righteous. Death does not kill that which has existed between a mother and her children.”

  She sniffed and wiped her eyes. The mist beyond the glade darkened.

  “I am sorry,” he said again and stood.

  She clutched his hand. “Do you have to go? Can’t you wait for me?” She could accept this with more courage if she knew he’d be there to meet her.

  “I wish I could, but now my purpose is done, I have not the strength to remain.” He pulled her up and hugged her again. For all that he was a being of light, he felt so solid, so real.

  He kissed each of her cheeks. “Be strong, Elaine. You shall be victorious.”

  He faded, and the body she’d known disintegrated as purple light burst forth. She held on as best she could but soon nothing remained. His smile was the last recognizable thing to disappear into the light. Then even that was gone, and she was alone.

  A grey storm threatened. Her anger—at her unavoidable future, at Xadrak’s ability to inflict such torment on her life—swelled until the rage thrashed in her chest, seeking something to sink its teeth into.

  Clouds as black as tar approached, sending tendrils snaking forward to snare what she had created. Xadrak had come. A slick evil invaded the clearing. How dare he threaten her? How dare he lord his strength over her? But for all her fury, his power pressed, ready to crush her. She had to get out of there before it was too late.

  She plunged out of the astral and into her body, the process taking a fraction of a moment, but his claws scratched her soul as she fled back to earth. Her eyes fired open and white purifying light erupted out of her, reaching deep inside and scouring the last trace of Xadrak’s touch.
>
  Satisfied she was safe, she stopped the light. She hunched forward, sweat pouring from her forehead, down her spine, from exertion and from terror. He had gained strength and confidence. How long would it be before the astral became his domain entirely?

  Loic was right. She needed it for her stronghold.

  She had to die.

  XIV

  “I wish I’d been there to stop him,” Hame said, after hearing tales of Aurelia’s family life. Rope twisted inside his gut, a tautness he couldn’t shift. What Aurelia had been through—the little she’d confessed—made him want to strangle someone. Too bad Henri was already dead.

  “Thank you, but it wasn’t your place.”

  “No, it was Elaine’s.”

  She placed her hand on his fist, the touch soothing him into relaxing it. “Don’t let it poison you, Hame. Henri is the one who violated me.”

  “Is that why you’re helping her? So you can see Xadrak brought to justice?”

  “You’ll scorn me, but I’m helping her because she’s my mother and she did what she thought was right.”

  “You should try saying that without the murderous look in your eye.”

  She laughed, and he felt good hearing it. “Fine, I want vengeance, but I also don’t want to see Xadrak’s evil released onto this world.”

  Suddenly she looked away.

  “What were you thinking?”

  She shook her head but wouldn’t meet his eye.

  “Tell me.” His mind brushed against hers, a gentle touch at the edges. When she’d recovered from her breakdown, he’d apologized, and they’d established the rules. She also went to work building shields around her mind to keep out unwanted attacks. The shields she used with him were thinner than gauze, but he respected them. The shame of his earlier lack of thought and care still lingered at the back of his mind like a kicked dog.