Jared stopped moving, his shoulders hunching up. He didn’t turn, but he did speak. “Apomonóno.”
The isolation spell dropped over them, blotting out the sun as the darkness covered over where they stood. No one milling about the park likely heard the screams from Jackson Square, and they wouldn’t see what occurred right beside them. The statues in Louis Armstrong park were swallowed by blackness, and soon she stood alone in a small void that housed just the two of them.
“It didn’t need to come to this,” Jared spoke as he turned, his wand ready in his hand. “We wanted virtually the same things.”
“Yes, and when you were denied you reacted like a psychopath.” She spat, regripping the athame to throw or plunge if necessary. “Why the need for silence and secrecy now? After what you’ve done, wouldn’t you want this to be seen?”
Jared’s lips twisted into a malicious grimace. “Having the world know I am the man who killed the daughter of the great Lancaster High Priestess will not set my name where it needs to be in our history. You will be found dead, and if I play my cards right, I can pin it on the wolf. Decades, if not centuries more of tension will fester between the witches and wolves in this city. The wedge between warlock and witch will shrink, and should we be outed, a unity will keep us where we belong. At the top.”
“You’re delusional. My mother just saw me with Elijah, she will set everything straight. You aren’t man enough to kill her.”
A jolt of orange electricity flew at her.
“Prostatévo,” Ivy threw up her hands, wishing she hadn’t dropped her wand. Casting was more effective when the wand could channel a witch’s magic. The protection spell still caught the assault. “Jared, surrender and come in with me. We can get the council to go easy if you let us fix your mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” He barked out a laugh. “The mistake was ever hoping I wouldn’t need to kill a bright and respectful witch.” The ball of fire launched quickly, slamming into her thigh.
Ivy shrieked but didn’t cast to stop the flames because they would fizzle out on their own. In turn, she let the purple fire grow in her hands and sent it sailing. Jared dodged, rolling to the side.
“Fotiá!” Jared hissed, sending flames straight towards her.
“Neró!” The wave scarcely blocked her from the fire spell.
“Come now, Ivy,” Jared flashed from in front of her and was gone. “I am older and more skilled at battle magic,” Jared called from behind her near the edge of the black dome encircling them.
“I don’t want to do this,” Ivy didn’t turn to face him because she already began swirling a hex in her hands. If he saw her arms moving, he didn’t let on.
“Then join me. There’s no need for further death. I’ve done what I came to do. Let me collect my dear wife, and we can all return to the future, even Elijah. You were never meant to be my enemies, but you stood in my way.”
Ivy glanced over her shoulder and saw the orange fire glowing at the tip of Jared’s wand. He really doesn’t want to kill me, but he will if I make him. The thought did nothing to change her mind. The hex would end everything, possibly even her if the smoke got too close. Black began to bleed into the purple smoke as the toxic black magic weaved into her hex. Don’t back down. This is the right thing to do.
“What are you doing?”
Jared wouldn’t think a witch would infuse a hex with dark magic. Hexes on their own were merely curses. Sure, Ivy could do that, but as a warlock, Jared could find a way out.
“What needs to be done.” The smoke plumed over her knuckles. The magic was ready. “Last chance, Jared. Drop the isolation spell and let us fix this. Surely the lengths you and others went to will have the council rethink the vote.”
“It’s too late for that. They’ve made their choice.”
She couldn’t ignore the venom spiking his words. The hatred in his voice would never be undone after getting his wife back or time in prison. This is the only way. Forgive me.
Ivy closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as she turned. The isolation spell would ensure Jared could not escape the Death Hex. Only if she worked quickly could she bring down the spell before the hex came for her. Palms out, she invoked the wind to carry the fog quicker. “Anemous.”
“Ivy, no,” Jared screamed. “Apom -”
He didn’t speak quickly enough. The isolation spell remained in place. Though Ivy kept her eyes tightly shut, she knew the moment the smoke wrapped around Jared. His cries would haunt her until the day she died. More animalistic than a warlock should utter, the shriek sounded of bat mixed with lion. It went on forever.
When silence finally came, she opened her eyes. Jared lay utterly still on the ground, the hex hanging above him. Hexes were believed to be living magic, and when the target was gone, the smoke seemed to turn, to come for her. Tendrils of dark purple smoke reached out toward her like fingers. Ivy froze, wondering if she shouldn’t let it take her as punishment for what she did. To join her parents and rest in peace.
As the first tendril wrapped around her ankle, Ivy screamed. “Apomonóno!” The blackness lifted from the ground up. Pulling away, a rush of light rushed into the blackness. The hex would dissipate faster with a lot of space around it, but she had to aid in the destruction as a slice of pain seemed to come from inside her body where the smoke wrapped around her waist. “Diaskorpízo!”
The pain continued like a vice wrapping around an object until it snapped. But she saw the hex vanishing. Ivy watched as the deep purple lightened and started to fade into the sky. Pain like fire tore through her, and she realized it might be too late for her own life. Biting down on her cheek kept her from shrieking, but the quicker the isolation vanished, the sooner someone in Louis Armstrong Park would see a dead man and a dying woman.
I did what I needed to do. They’ll track me and find us both before humans report our bodies. Ivy closed her eyes, and the warm rush of tears over her face may have come from facing death or from pain. One last look. She let her eyes open, taking in the brilliant light of the sun. The world rushed out from under her, and she cracked into the cement, pain blaring through her head.
So it will be. As her eyes fluttered closed, Ivy caught a glance of a paw print, black as night, on her inner wrist.
21
Elijah snarled at the paw print on the inside of his wrist, not in anger, but fear. A shifter’s mating mark only randomly appears after finding and sleeping with their mate. Some never find them if this is how the marks reveal themselves. Everything with Ivy–the attraction, the intrigue, the inability to shake his feelings–they all made sense now.
Best guess on the delay? Time travel. They were out of time and place, running around in centuries where other versions of themselves also lived. It stood to reason their body’s chemical makeup was thrown off for a bit. That was the only explanation. Beyond the obvious of not having slept with anyone else, the match on Ivy’s left wrist was a perfect mark.
“A mark you only saw on her after the locator spell led you to her nearly dead on the ground.” The memory slammed into him. Fear coursed through him as he thought about what occurred behind the closed door to the back.
They’d found Ivy, and Patrick immediately transported her to the shop, forcing Elijah to make a harrowing walk with barely any energy. When the witches woke from whatever was done to them, Mrs. Lancaster healed him as best she could with a potion. The rest would take regular time and rest.
There had been no time to mourn Lita and the other witches killed in the fight—but he knew it would come soon. Patrick located Ivy within minutes, but when they arrived, they’d had to go around a criminal investigation. Elijah smelled Ivy in the back of what once upon a time passed for an ambulance, and Patrick fled with her.
The witches and warlocks behind the closed door wouldn’t allow him in. They scoffed at the presence of the mark both he and Ivy shared. Certainly, he could have attempted to explain, but time mattered, and he wouldn’t waste a moment of them taking care
of his mate on stupid stories.
Elijah paced the front of the tea shop. He needed to run. Elijah’s wolf stirred just at the surface. It wanted to go to his mate, and a closed door didn’t seem like a barrier. Elijah held on to his humanity because he didn’t doubt the witches would strike him down.
“Elijah,” Patrick called through the door, the only warlock’s voice who Elijah knew.
He nearly tore the floorboard out from under him in his haste to get there. The door swung inward as he got to it, revealing Ivy sitting up in a circle of candles. “Ivy,” her name rushed out on a sigh of relief.
“Elijah,” her expression held no joy, no excitement to see him, so he paused in his tracks.
His heart pumped, and anger stirred at the surface. She had to have seen the mark by now, her forearms were bare. She doesn’t want it. The thought slammed into Elijah with the force of a freight train.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder. “I am now. I’m lucky you found me, luckier still that you survived.”
“About that,” he shifted his weight. Elijah had been many things in his long life, unsure had never been one of them.
“I won’t apologize.” She pushed off the table and walked to him, holding up her wrist. “Is this what I think it is?”
He nodded.
“Then there’s no way in hell I’ll apologize for using a potion to save you.”
“What did you do back there?” When they fixed time, if Jared was lucky, and his ass was alive, Elijah would kill him slowly.
“Something that will darken my magic forever. I cast a Death Hex. Potent, powerful, and seeking life. Jared cast an isolation spell which trapped us together. I needed his death before I undid the magic. The hex moved quickly, and much of the smoke passed over me as I fought to cast both spells. The last thing I saw was the sun and this mark.” She tapped the paw print.
“Are you fucking insane?” He slammed his fist against the sturdy table. “You could have died! You nearly did.”
“And I did lose you. Don’t lecture me on stupid risks. I told you to stay back. You did what you thought was best. I did too.”
His heart rate raced as her words kept circling in his mind. She’d nearly committed suicide and left him to stop Jared. It’s what you would have done. She leads.
Ivy’s mother spoke before Elijah could snap again.
“If everyone save for Patrick could leave the space, I should like to have a word with my daughter and the wolf alpha.”
The witches filed out without a word. The warlocks looked to Patrick who merely nodded, and the three men left.
“If you think I am pleased about this, I am not.” She scowled as she spoke. “But if you two do come from a future where peace is throughout the land, I suppose a united front between shifters and witches can only bring strength. Do you believe his death ended the problem or is there a chance this was a time loop, always meant to be?”
Elijah nodded. “I can imagine how difficult this is to accept coming from a time when we are still narrowly at war. I can assure you, my shock is great, but my happiness is stronger. As for Jared, we won’t know until we return. I would hope his death out of his timeline erases everything, but I’m not a caster, and even in our future, time travel isn’t a common spell.” He glanced into Ivy’s green eyes, and she glanced away.
“We need to go home, now.” She whispered, nothing like the strong woman Elijah grew to care for. “There are too many changes. If we don’t go home now and work to find a way to pinpoint dates,” her voice cracked. “I won’t let her die. Not when it wasn’t her time.” Tears fell for Lita.
Instinct told him to pull her close, even if he thought she didn’t want him. Ivy melted against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. He didn’t do comfort. He did battle and justice. Tentatively, he stroked his hand over her hair until Ivy calmed.
When she did, she pulled back, almost eager to leave his touch. The urge to kiss her and remind her what they shared was nearly stronger than he could resist.
“Then we go home,” his words were clipped. “We do what we did before, bind poor Patrick here to the past, clear all others out, and cast the spell.” His voice held the authority an alpha culled.
“Lovely to see your commanding nature hasn’t left you,” Mrs. Lancaster sneered.
Elijah winced. He’d spent a quarter of his life giving commands, it didn’t matter these people weren’t his pack.
“I’m anxious. We’ve created so many rifts in time. Rifts that may have shaped our future into one completely different from the one we left. War could have destroyed everything. The council might not exist. There’s no telling what we will step out of this shop into in 2019.” For the first time, true fear greeted him with the words. The world was missing a handful of humans and Supernaturals before their natural death. What would await them?
“Patrick, are you all right with this? I can’t erase your memory. I can’t take these events away until we stop them.”
He gave a grim nod of his head. “This is my burden to bear.”
Elijah wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he didn’t hate the warlock.
“Mother, can I speak to you?”
Elijah let out a low warning growl. “Ivy.”
“I’m not going to change history. Despite not seeing what waits for us, losing Lita shows me how dangerous this is.”
Elijah stepped out of the back room to the closed shop but didn’t follow Ivy. She was his mate. He needed to trust her decisions. Turning his back to give them space, Elijah continued to listen in.
“Mom, I need your help with something. Over the next few years, teach me everything.” Her voice shook. “Don’t leave anything out. No spell, no translation, nothing.”
“Is something wrong, will you need the magic to save yourself?”
A pause. “I’ll need it to lead.”
Neither woman spoke, and Elijah’s heart clenched. In very few words, Ivy just told her mother that in their time, Aspen was dead.
He continued to pretend to give a shit about the teas before him as Ivy and her mother said goodbye. Only when the echo of Ivy’s footsteps came in his direction did he give up pretending. Turning, he could see she wasn’t okay, but trying to keep her shoulders squared to stand tall.
“I know you listened in.”
His jaw dropped a fraction.
“It’s like your thing. Renard sniffs everyone when he thinks we aren’t aware and you listen to conversations we try to have in private.”
He couldn’t help the small laugh. “Guilty. In a society where the only way up is to kill those before you, listening in becomes a habit.”
“That’s something I think it’s time to change. Habits are archaic, and if it’s tradition, it’s time for a new one. Just like the witches need to share our spell books. When we get home, we’re going to insist on change.” Fierce hope shone from her eyes and Elijah realized it was the first time he’d seen her determined today.
“We’ll get back and fix things. I’d appreciate it if you unhexed my wolves first.”
Ivy’s lips cracked into a smile. “My pleasure. I have a feeling we’ll need more than just us if we figure out a way to travel back to a day or so before Jared makes the moves. We know the game. We won’t lose a second time.”
“Have I mentioned how wrong I was about you? You are not some bitchy librarian type.”
“Oh no?”
“Quite the opposite. More like bitchy warrior type.”
She barked out a laugh just as Patrick stepped out.
“Ready then?” She slipped her hand into Elijah’s. “I’ve only got one vial of blood and one item from our decade. You have nothing thanks to an undiscussed shift, and I don’t want to run the risk of you not coming home with me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Back to the future then?”
She groaned as they walked. “Oh my goddess, I did not peg you for dad jokes!”
&n
bsp; “Ivy?” Patrick held his hand out. “What item do you have?”
She flushed a redder crimson than Elijah ever saw on any creature.
“My panties.”
He choked on saliva before laughing. “Oh my god, of all the things.”
She shot daggers at him as she took them off from under the pencil skirt she wore to fit in with this decade and set them down on the back table. “Ready to do this one more time?”
“Ready as ever.”
“Lady Air, I invite you to this circle,” Ivy said the words she’d spoken once before, days ago, but in another century.
Patrick snapped his finger, and just like the first time, the black candle lit. “Master of fire, I invite you into my circle.”
Ivy’s fingers sifted almost lovingly over the leaves of the plant on the table. “Lady Earth, I invite you to this circle.”
“Master of Water, I invite you into my circle.” Lifting the vial of blood from the table, Patrick looked to Ivy. “Would you mind, ah–”
“I’ll rip them.”
Patrick poured the blood over the white boy shorts. With her free hand, Ivy used her athame to slash a hole in her underwear.
The now-familiar blinding light filled the space, and Elijah swore he heard Patrick wish them luck.
Elijah closed his eyes and ignored the prickling sensation he knew came next.
“We’re home.” Ivy let go of his hand and pushed open the door.
Instead of teas, potion ingredients and filled potion bottles lined overflowing shelves. They were home, days after they left–battled, bloodied, and mated.
22
“Ivy.” Patrick’s familiar voice drifted from the front of the shop.
She didn’t turn immediately, fear for what she might see in her old friend paralyzing her.
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