Shadow's Dream

by Jami Gray

  He blinked back to the hogan to find it wasn’t Tala staring at him over Danny’s battered body, but Hadley. A dark anticipation curled in her gaze, one she wasn’t very good at hiding now that the illusion’s cover was shattered.

  It hit him that she didn’t know he’d broken her spell. He forced his lips to curve. “I think it’s best you start the healing, I want to make sure we’re not ambushed.”

  Hadley, still in her role of Tala, frowned, but anger lit deep in her eyes, making her words a lie. “Fine, but I’m going to need your help.” She shook her head, barely giving Danny a glance. “They did a number on him.”

  “They?” he asked, determined to keep her occupied.

  She shrugged. “Whoever did this.” She stared at him. “Do you know who it was?”

  He didn’t bother hiding anything and gave her a cold, empty look. “Yes.”

  And then he lunged.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The first time Tala ever channeled the phenomenal powers of the Ancestors, she blacked out for half a day. Now, after years of practice, she was able to remain in the driver’s seat. For the most part.

  The problem with being the conduit for a collection of mystical entities who considered themselves protectors of their people—namely those decedents whose bloodlines were a mix of the Nation’s people and Kyn—was trying to convince them to let you stick around and participate. Getting them to heed a lowly mortal’s advice was similar to asking a snail to win the Indy 500.

  So, Tala developed a few tricks of her own when calling on them for help. One of which involved appealing to their protective nature for those they considered their children. Of course, their idea of protection made mama tigers look like fluffy unicorns. When Cheveyo disappeared inside the hogan and too many damn minutes passed, she made the decision to bring the Ancestors into the loop.

  She sent out an SOS, surprised at the quick reaction.

  “Why have you called?”

  The multi-tonal voice echoed inside her skull, resonating beyond the bone. She hated holding the conversation in her head because it teetered too close to the line between sane and not so much. Not wanting to risk being overheard, she kept her response silent. “Danny’s been taken by one who’s intent on harm.”

  She braced as the Ancestor’s affront temporarily whited out her vision, their voices and presence rising to an eye-searing, ear-bleeding brilliance. “Ancestors, please.”

  It was all she could get out for a plea of mercy. It was enough. The Ancestors dialed it way the hell down, thankfully. “Thank you.”

  “Where is our healer?”

  “In the holy house with Stalking Wolf.” It was always unnerving when the Ancestors took over her body. Even more so when Tala was able to pay attention. The scenery around her passed by in a barely discernible blur, and then she stood on the edge of the protection wards with the hogan to her left.

  Power moved through her, and not wanting to get swept away, Tala kept her spirit still, letting the psychic wake pull her along. It was a trick she learned once she could hold her own against the Ancestors, similar to surfing along the crest of their magical waves. There was the whisper of winds through leaves, rising and falling as if a storm gathered close by.

  The Ancestors were talking among themselves.

  Tala waited.

  “Daughter,” they called.

  “Yes.”

  “Look.”

  Following the command, Tala turned to the hogan and couldn’t stifle her sharp gasp. The hogan’s walls undulated in a vaguely nauseating manor. Tendrils of red-stained yellow, carrying a heart of deepest black, twisted through the structure. Shock wiped away all but her need for answers, “What the hell is that?”

  “Something that should not be.” The answer was full of sibilant echoes. “Magic, old and sick, mixed with young and corrupt.” As alien as the Ancestors’ emotions could be, their disgust came through loud and clear. Even more worrisome, was the ripples of trepidation curling underneath.

  Tala’s mind raced, trying to put the clues together. “Leo and Hadley?”

  A soft hum of approval, then a change in the Ancestors, as if catching the scent of prey. “The Weaver. She is here?”

  For a moment, Tala scrambled to place who they meant. “Raine? Yes, well, she’s here, but not.”

  “Good. You and Stalking Wolf need a weapon.”

  Before Tala could decide what they meant, the Ancestors took control.

  Between one blink and the next, she found herself across the wards and at the doorway of the hogan. Knowledge that wasn’t hers swirled around her, but the sound of a scream being choked off had her reaching to tear back the blanket before she could process the move.

  The scene hit her like a series of photos.

  Cheveyo had a dark haired woman who looked eerily familiar pinned against the wall. His face contorted into a snarl, while death crouched on his shoulder. A battered body lay motionless at his feet. A flash of metal in the woman’s fist hit Tala’s eyes, and her heart stopped. “Cheveyo!”

  Her warning was too late. Whether it was her sudden appearance or her cry, Cheveyo’s attention fractured, giving the woman he pinned a chance to slam the blade deep into his side.

  His pained bellow roared through the enclosed space.

  Tala didn’t even stop to think, simply gathered the power singing through her veins and whipped it around the woman still dangling from Cheveyo’s hand. Her magic coiled like an electrical serpent, sinking its fangs deep into the woman. The woman’s pained cry echoed Cheveyo’s. When his hands fell away, and he stumbled back a step, the woman hung on the wall, suspended by the fury of Tala’s magic.

  The Ancestors were strangely quiet, or maybe it was simply that Tala’s panic and fear drowned them out. She rushed to Cheveyo, catching him as he dropped to his knees, a grimace twisting his face.

  A noise from the woman on the wall drew Tala’s attention. She turned her head, fury coloring her vision red. She tightened her hold until the woman began choking.

  “Daughter.” The Ancestors’ voice bled through her haze of violence. “Look.”

  She turned back to Cheveyo, her hands covering his as they gripped the hilt still embedded in his side. Blood stained the edges, darkening his shirt. Fear tightened its choking hands on her neck. If they pulled the blade free, chances were good he’d bleed out.

  When she felt his fingers flex under hers, she tightened her grip, stilling them. “Don’t move, Cheveyo.”

  His normally copper-colored skin was pallid, and a fine line of sweat beaded his brow. “I can’t leave it in.”

  She shook her head, ignoring the tearing pain in her chest. “We can’t pull it out.”

  “Look, daughter.” Insubstantial fingers closed on her chin drawing her attention down to the knife. “Look.”

  Unable to ignore the Ancestors, she blinked away the hot press of tears and focused. What she saw made her stomach drop. “No.”

  Her denial came out choked, but Cheveyo caught it. “What is it?”

  An unrecognizable spell knotted around the knife’s hilts and etched into the blade disappearing into Cheveyo’s skin. The tendrils went from the blade to the woman still pinned to the wall. The same woman who was glaring at her with malevolent glee through a mask that mimicked Tala’s features. Recognizing the illusion spell, Tala shredded it with one word, “Exsero.”

  Hadley’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “You’re too late, Tala.”

  Refusing to allow Hadley’s hateful delight to add fuel to her fear as Cheveyo held grimly on, Tala buried it under a towering wave of wrath. Everything inside her froze under the onslaught, until all that was left was an insatiable need for vengeance. “What did you do?”

  Muscles along Hadley’s neck stretched as she fought against the power holding her in place. She managed to push her head forward. Her fingers curled into useless fists. “Destroyed you.” Then her sneer turned sharp. “Again. Maybe this time you’ll go down for good.�
�

  Tala didn’t dare leave Cheveyo’s side, but it didn’t stop her from using the depth of power at her disposal.

  Hadley’s face paled, probably because if the Ancestors were bolstering her power, Tala’s eyes would glow.

  Inside her head, the Ancestors muttered among themselves, but Tala was more concerned with the man lying in front of her and the witch on the wall to worry about the ones haunting her head.

  Even as she split her power, trying to hold on to Cheveyo and keep Hadley in place, she still caught the whisper of an old spell. Without pausing to think, she cast it.

  Hadley’s body arched against the wall. Blood began to trickle from her ears, nose, mouth, and eyes.

  Tala kept the pressure up until Hadley’s screams broke the hum of magic. Another flex of power and Hadley’s head was jerked up by an invisible hand, her skull hitting the wall with an audible thunk.

  “What did you do?” An echo of the Ancestors’ dismay deepened Tala voice.

  “Go ahead and kill me,” Hadley taunted, a chilling eagerness twisting her familiar features into something monstrous. “Please, I beg you.”

  It wasn’t begging Tala heard, but an anticipatory eagerness. It made her heart seize. “Not until you tell me what you’ve done.”

  Hadley’s crazed laugh ripped through Tala’s bitter loathing, giving her pause. “Oh come on, Tala. Do I really need to give you another reason? Because I can if you really want me to.”

  Tala sank her magic into Hadley again, until her screams were harsh, choked gasps. “Talk, Hadley.”

  At first, Tala thought Hadley was crying, but when she lifted her head, Tala was disturbed to see she was laughing. “What are you waiting for, oh great Magi?” Hadley mocked. Her lips curled, revealing bloodstained teeth. “An apology? Where should I begin? With Tomás?” Her gaze slid to the unmoving bundle on the floor. “With Danny?” Then her attention dropped to Cheveyo, who stared at her, jaw locked. “With him?” She looked back to Tala with an unnatural slyness. “Or should I start with Aponi?”

  The verbal strike arrowed home with lethal accuracy.

  Tala’s heart began to bleed with an awful truth. Before she could find her voice, Hadley’s head snapped back against the wall, but this time it wasn’t Tala doing it.

  She looked down at Cheveyo to find him, pale and sweating, but his eyes, focused on Hadley, raged with a frightening mix of power and fury. “What did you do to our daughter?”

  “What do you think?” she choked out.

  Tala’s world shattered on a silent scream of heartbroken wrath. It was echoed by a violent blast of power that whipped past her and tore through Hadley.

  “Daughter, stop him or lose him.”

  The Ancestors’ warning pierced her grief and had her moving despite her crippling grief. She couldn’t lose everything. Her soul wouldn’t survive it. She released the hilt and cupped Cheveyo’s face, forcing his gaze to hers. The storm of pain, grief, and anger hit her like a physical blow, but the Ancestors’ anxiety held it at bay. “Bił hinishnáanii, stop, please. Cheveyo.” His name came out on a soft sob.

  He blinked, and the taunt line of his jaw flexed against her hands.

  “Stop.”

  His power pulled back, leaving him slumped against her. She held him close.

  Behind them a frustrated scream broke from Hadley. “No, dammit, kill me, you bitch.”

  Instead, as power rolled through her, she cut off Hadley’s venomous diatribe with a thought. Still holding Cheveyo, she examined the spell and asked the Ancestors, “What is it?”

  “A life for a life, laced with a subtle but sure death.”

  Another hit, this time barely felt. Haley designed the spell to drag Cheveyo into death with her. Unfortunately, whoever was pulling her strings decided to ensure her death in a lethal double-cross. Keeping the bitch alive would be the only way to keep Cheveyo breathing. Tala gathered the fractured pieces of her heart and soul. Aponi was gone, never to be saved, but Cheveyo was here, in her arms, and she wouldn’t lose him to another’s madness. “Can you destroy it?”

  “Not us. Ask the Weaver.”

  How the hell could she ask Raine when the woman wasn’t here, and Cheveyo was barely hanging on thanks to the spell and the number he did on Hadley? The answer came on a memory. She managed to connect with Raine once before when they worked to save Cheveyo from the Soul Stealer. “Cheveyo, I need your help.”

  “With?” His voice slurred.

  She needed to hurry before he succumbed to the spell. Carefully laying him out on the floor, she brushed her fingers along his face. He closed his eyes and turned into her touch. “Bring me into your world. I need to walk your dreams.”

  “Dangerous.” Even standing at death’s knees, he could be so stubborn.

  Choking back her impatience, Tala leaned in and whispered next to his ear. “Dream with me, beloved, or we’ll both walk the bridge to the next world.”

  His hand rose and curled over her neck, holding her against him, his psychic walls sliding aside, letting her in. She closed her eyes and fell into his dream.

  When Tala opened her eyes, a sharp stab of disappointment hit. It took a moment to realize the familiar surroundings weren’t so familiar. It was her front porch, but her front yard was filled with the wild beauty of the beach stretching below Cheveyo’s home. Not that she’d ever been there, but this—the contained power of waves lapping at a shore where stone, wood and the elements held dominance—was the heart she held more precious than her own.

  A storm crawled along the horizon. Angry clouds twisting over the endless ocean, while salt-encrusted wind picked up the approaching fury, and added a sting to their cold touch. Lightning danced among the raging skies and the press of encroaching danger lapped against her mind.

  She wrenched her gaze away from the danger, her attention centered on a couple coming up the beach, their shadows trailing behind them like specters of death. Tala rose from the wooden rocker.

  “Peace, awéé,” Cheveyo’s voice turned her head. Sitting in the other rocker, his face was pale but determined, his hands gripping the armrests. “They aren’t here to harm. You needed to talk to Raine.”

  She turned back to the railing, and now the couple was closer. Close enough to recognize the dark hair, now streaked with silver, that matched the unearthly gray eyes that belonged to one woman, Raine McCord.

  The formidable woman walked beside an equally indomitable male. Hair the color of good whiskey framed the stark features of Galen Durand, his green eyes sharp as cut glass. They came to a stop at the foot of the stairs.

  Raine spoke first. “Tala.”

  “Raine.” Her voice was stiff. Too many betrayals made her wary.

  Instead of being offended, Raine smiled, but it was predatory. “I see His Nuisance managed to get himself into another bind.”

  Folding her arms across her stomach, Tala managed to shrug her shoulders. “He’s seems attracted to them in a very unhealthy kind of way.”

  Gavin curled an arm around Raine’s waist. “Not to rush things, but considering Cheveyo looks a bit worse for wear and the mother of all storms is bearing down, I’m assuming there’s a time limit to this meeting. Shall we get to the point?”

  “I need your help.” Ignoring Raine’s shock, Tala stepped back and waved them up the stairs.

  The two deadly warriors came up and leaned back against the railing as Tala retook her seat. She laced her fingers with Cheveyo’s, not as a claim but for comfort. Here in this dreamscape, she couldn’t escape the whispering of the Ancestors or Hadley’s threat perched menacingly at the edges, while the other spell circled with deadly intent, a reminder of time running out. It wasn’t easy working on so many levels, but she managed.

  “Hadley tied Cheveyo to her through a mess of spells. Some I can recognize, others I can’t. Neither can the Ancestors. All we know for sure is if Hadley dies, so does Cheveyo. Problem is, someone wants Hadley dead, too.”

  A vicious curse slipp
ed from Raine, and her gaze landed on Cheveyo, full of too many things. Not unexpected, considering the bond she shared with him. This layered spell meant her life might also be threatened. And if Cheveyo was right, Gavin’s in turn.

  Gavin’s face hardened as he turned to Cheveyo. “Did you forget what Raine said?” There was a bite to his question.

  Despite his condition, Cheveyo managed to glare back. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on taking Raine, or you, with me.”

  “I’m not planning on anyone going anywhere,” Tala interrupted. She looked at Raine. “Cheveyo told me what you two did to save him from the Soul Stealer. All of it.” She held up her hand when Raine went to speak. “I don’t care. Your secret is safe. Right now all that matters is can you use your ability to change Hadley’s magic?”

  Raine shared a long look with Gavin. Tala got the sense they were talking. When Raine turned back, she said, “In what way?”

  The Ancestors’ whispers fell silent, waiting. Taking a deep breath, Tala dove in, “I want you to reweave the magic. Untie Cheveyo to Hadley.”

  An inscrutable mask dropped over Raine’s face. “This spell has more layers than a Russian nesting doll. I can reweave it, but I can’t undo this mess, there’s not enough time.” As if to emphasize her point, a deafening crack of thunder rolled over the frothing waves. “The primary spell links two lives together, that part can’t be undone. We remove Hadley, who do I tie his to?”

  Tala didn’t hesitate. “Me.”

  “Tala.”

  She left her chair and knelt in front of Cheveyo, impending loss making her uncaring of what the position revealed to the couple watching. “I can’t lose you, bił hin-ishnáanii.” Her hand tightened on his, until she was afraid she’d break his fingers, but she couldn’t stop. “You promised we would see things through together. I won’t let that twisted bitch shatter what’s left of my soul. She’s taken too much already.” She dropped her forehead to their clasped hands. “Please don’t ask me to, Cheveyo.” It was as close to begging as she could get.