Turning the Stone (The Blood Rites Trilogy Book 2)

by S. L. Perrine

  The next two days involved packing. Only speaking outdoors and finding a new home. For one, Silas wanted to be closer to the Crawford farm. Two, he wanted to get away from anything that had to do with his father. When Sigmis told his son not to worry about the details of the trip to Ohio, Silas didn’t much care. He was less than thrilled to be relocating, to begin with. Having his father pick the house, car, and school he would be attending seemed like a good idea at the time.

  After speaking to Ophelia, Silas became all too aware of the lengths his father would go to, to ensure his plans were going as he’d wanted. Wire taps, shifters in hiding, anything was possible where his father was concerned. She’d found the information about his grandfather, and it was what Silas had feared. Marlin Sigmis was checked into a nursing care facility only three years before his death. Though she hadn’t been able to find out how he died.

  While looking for a house, instead of going closer to Gwen he’d decided to go further. He procured one residence on the outskirts of Springfield, west of Gwen’s home, for them to stay at while he trained her. He then purchased another in Dublin. Dublin, Ohio was about fifty miles east. So, while the world watched the three of them move openly to the house nearby, Ophelia and Seraphine moved the rest of their belongings from Indiana to Dublin.

  When Ophelia confirmed the house was ready, he rode out to meet her. Hex and Finis followed in the woods and made sure to pay close attention to anyone who may have followed Silas on the road. As they reached the long narrow drive to the small house, there was nobody around Silas for miles. He’d managed to make it there without attracting any attention.

  It was a small cabin surrounded by woods. A large clearing around the house gave ample room for them to perform any sort of magic. There was a small area off to one side of the cabin for the use of circle meetings between him and his coven leaders. Vacating Indiana for good meant that they now had no community that would follow him as a priest, but he didn’t care. His plans were now in motion. Since his leaders were all present with him in Ohio, he would be able to start veering from his father’s plan and working on his completely.

  The day was spent placing wards on the cabin. No human would be able to locate it. If they were to begin driving in its direction, they would find themselves back where they started. The only thing Ophelia could not do was block magic users who carried the death watcher gene in their blood. All others would not be permitted onto the property unless invited. Since a death watcher was ultimately a void, they could not be detected. Therefore, if his father wanted him bad enough, he would have to get him all by himself.

  Silas surveyed the land and house. It was surrounded by large lush trees, flowers adorned the front of the cabin on either side of a small porch. Bright colors of red, pink, blue and purple filled the boxes attached to each of the window ledges in the front of the building. It had only one entrance. It led into a large room. A smaller one off the back would serve nicely as Ophelia’s bedroom. To the right was a spacious eat in kitchen and living area. A single staircase led up to a large open loft area where there were two more bedrooms and a bathroom. It was the perfect place to get away. For what he’d wanted it for, he had no doubt it would meet his needs.

  Seraphine claimed the smallest of the rooms upstairs, leaving the other for Silas. Hex and Finis would share the living space downstairs. They didn’t much care for small spaces. Ophelia had painted the kitchen a light mint color and draped curtains on the windows. The sofa was a darker green with a matching plush armchair.

  “I got most of this stuff from a yard sale. I hope you like green,” she said placing a kettle on the stove.

  “I don’t mind green. It looks great in here. Thank you.”

  “Do you think we can keep this place secret for long?” Hex asked.

  Finis sat cross legged on the sofa sniffing the air. His keen sense of smell didn’t leave him, even in his human form. “I think it’ll be fine. It doesn’t smell like many people have been here.”

  “It sat vacant for ten years. I think the owner forgot about it to be honest. When I enquired as to if it were for sale, he’d acted as if he had no idea what property I was talking about. When he finally answered he just said it might as well be,” Ophelia recalled while staring off into a full-length mirror. She watched as the sun flashed against the gold frame.

  “Well then, let’s make it a home, shall we?” Silas looked out of the kitchen window to the yard beyond. “Meet me outside.”

  They moved to the clearing off the kitchen. Silas carried the tools he’d brought with him from the car. Placing them in a circle in front of him. A large white pillar candle, an athame, one silver bowl and a large leather-bound book Ophelia snuck away from Sigmis.

  “He might miss it,” she said when she handed it to him, his eyes wide with shock. He’d never known her to be so brass.

  Once they were situated, Silas in the center while his friends and coven circled around him holding hands, Silas began.

  “I ask of you, the power of the Earth to entrust me with the power to protect this circle, as I do your will.” The ground shook slightly, but Silas continued, “I ask of you, the power of the Wind, to entrust me with the power to protect this circle, as I do your will.” A small breeze washed over them.

  “I ask of you, the power of Fire, to entrust me with the power to protect this circle, as I do your will.” Silas could feel a burst of warmth shoot through his hands and dissipate.

  “I ask of you, the power of Water, to entrust me with the power to protect this circle, as I do your will.” When nothing happened, they were not worried. It was the same every time anyone called the powers of the elements to a circle. It was the way of the witch.

  The elements were called, the circle was sealed and they could speak freely without incident. If they chose it, they could conceal themselves from anyone that might be around. No magic could break through a circle once it was cast, and no person was able to pass through, in or out until it was broken.

  “I give you the first circle of the newly reformed Black Willow. We will be as we are. From now till the end. We will have pity for those who may try to cross us, and fell them at the attempt. Our goals are now shared as will our strengths be once we complete the rite. You are about to enter into a family beyond the one you were born to. A bonding of blood, melding into that which exists where birth and death, dark and light, joy and pain – meet and make one. Do you enter without fear in your heart, nor dread? What say you? Ophelia Can, do you pledge yourself to the Black Willow?”

  “I do.”

  Silas handed the athame to Ophelia. She took the weight of the hilt in her hand, and without hesitation, she placed the blade to her palm. The cut was sure and steady. She then flexed her palm outward more, as if she could open it further than it was. The blood pooled there. Closing her hand into a fist she let the blood slip from the inside of her closed hand into the silver bowl. She held her hand out to Silas who placed his over top of it, and the blue glow of his hand seeped into her own. When she stepped back, her hand was healed.

  “What say you, Seraphine Knotley, do you pledge yourself to the Black Willow?”

  “I do.” Seraphine moved forward to take the hilt of the blade. Her dark skin contrasted against the silver, like night wrapping around the sun. Her dark eyes became slits as the metal bit her flesh and red pooled. She too landed crimson into the bowl and allowed Silas to heal her wound.

  “What say you, Finis Necos, do you pledge yourself to the Black Willow?”

  “I do.” He fisted his palm to his chest and moved forward. His red hair reflected the sun as he moved blade to skin and let the droplets fall to the bowl. Silas healed the cut, Finis bowed his head and stepped back to his place in the circle.

  “I know this goes without asking, but formalities as they are.” He laughed at Hex as his longtime friend stepped forward, hand out to accept the blade. “What say you, Hex Lavar, do you pledge yourself as my general, my second in command and to the Bl
ack Willow?”

  “I do.” He fisted his hand as Finis had and crossed it over his chest, his other hand out to receive the blade. Hex didn’t flinch as he dragged the cool blade across his skin. His dark muscles rippled as he flexed his hand to drop his offering into the bowl.

  After Silas healed his hand, Hex turned to the other three. “What say you, Silas Sigmis Jr., of the Black Willow? Do you accept our offer to lead by your side, aid and protect you at all costs? Do you accept our pledge?” He turned back to Silas, handing him the hilt of the blade.

  Silas accepted the hilt into his hand and looked to his friends. They had all trained for that day. Most of them grew knowing it would be them in that circle. Once completed, the rite would bind them together. The winter solstice rites would only be a show for those around them. Completing the rite before the solstice did not change the outcome. Once he made his vow, it would be just as binding as if they’d done it with an audience in the snow.

  He held the blade to his hand, “I do,” he said while making his cut. He let the blood pool in his hand and then allowed it to drop into the cup. There was no one to heal his wound, so he grabbed the cotton cloth waiting nearby and wrapped his hand. Hex tied it into a knot and took his place again with the rest around the circle.

  Silas lit the candle with a match. “The blood joined here today will combine our strengths and our weaknesses. We will share a bond not seen by anyone, save for the five of us. Together we will become a force of reckoning. Let know one stand against us and live.” He moved the flame from the candle with a thought alone, “let it be done.” The flame dropped into the bowl creating an explosion that did not move outward, yet the air around them rippled inside of the invisible barrier of their circle.

  Chapter IX

  The woods were quiet. The birds chirped less often with every step through the trees. Fallen dried leaves crunched underfoot. The long black cloak dragged the ground. Nails scraped bark and stone alike. She could feel the insects scramble away at her approach. Could hear the thoughts of the birds as they flew farther away from her. The wind blew, and her scent drifted to the animals and shifters around her. The smell of putrid flesh and rot. What she had once suspected as being fear, was now evidence of her ambition only. She faced the most feared witch known to man, yet she walked on.

  Her hood covered the short pixie cut of hair so dark it blended with the night. Her nails filed to a point and painted as crimson as the color on her lips. Her eyes blackened with makeup contrasted with the milky white of her skin. The witches around her towered over her small frame, yet she walked on. Before she could reach her target, a shifter stood before her in human form; a hand raised to stop her from moving any further.

  “He’ll speak to you from there—”

  The boy stopped, his eyes wide as the shift within him was forced from the outside. From her. His bones snapped and split, his skin stretched over his body. Ripping to allow fur to replace it from beneath the flesh.

  “You were saying?” she asked the beast as it landed on all four staring up at her through wolf’s eyes.

  He whimpered and lowered his head and tail backing away from her. She released his mind and continued forward.

  “My, my. What have we here?”

  “A pissed off witch, that’s what.” She stopped ten feet in front of him and lowered her hood.

  “You are not what I was expecting.”

  “Really? What might that have been?”

  “For one, someone a bit…older.” The man looked at the girl before him. She licked her lips in a seductive move that told him she may be young, but not too young.

  “Sixteen is the best age to plot a revenge. It means I have a lifetime to accomplish my task and the anger of an adolescent. What do you have? Ten years left before you go stone-cold mad?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “My grandmother told me everything of your plight. Why would I come to you, if I didn’t think I had something of interest that would entice? Something that would help you.”

  “I’m still not sure what you’re after. In exchange for that help.”

  “All in due time. Maybe when I’m a bit…older.” She let out a short patronizing laugh. “Besides, you said you have a way to get what you’re after.”

  “I do.”

  “Are you planning to use my sister in this plan of yours?”

  “What if I am?”

  “That’s simple. I’d like to help. You obviously need the ring. You also will need Gwen and Silas out of the way.”

  “I do, but they cannot be killed. The powers will transfer. We cannot let that happen.”

  “Well, then. Lucky for you that I have the perfect plan.”

  Chapter X

  Chester had been true to his word and kept a watchful eye on Silas every time he entered the property. He’d watched as the two of them grew closer. How Gwen leaned into him when they worked, and how Silas would look at her; studying her face, her eyes, and the curves of her body almost as much as Chester had in the past. He even gave quick glances at Chester, knowing looks that told him he could be closer to her than Chester ever could. Because in the end, Silas had been right. Chester would never be able to put his own happiness above her safety. For that reason alone, he would never get that close.

  Silas didn’t have to rub it in Chester’s face at every chance either, but he made sure he did whenever he could.

  Chester watched as the two trained. Silas had brought them to his cabin in the backwoods of Dublin. He said it was so they had more room, and privacy to practice. Chester agreed the place was safe enough, and it must have been hard to train with her gifts in the cave. He’d never been able to see what she could do while patrolling the property while they worked in seclusion. Chester watched her as he split wood with a simple movement. He laughed when she brought Silas to his knees in pain, crushing him from within his mind. Gwen gave him a stern look, but he just smiled back.

  It was easy to patrol the grounds with Silas’ two shifters in the yard as well. The wards were enough to keep them all safe from outsiders, but as they explained the void in a death watcher could not be blocked, they needed to keep vigilant. Having Marcus nearby gave Chester an even bigger advantage. He’d not felt like an outsider with one of his own nearby.

  Silas and Gwen took a break and were discussing the circle ritual for the winter solstice. Chester had to admit it was a good idea to complete the rite before the retch Evelyn was able to make waves again. Once the rite was done, she wouldn’t have a chance at swaying any of the covens to her side. Not that she could take any of Gwen’s power or her title. She couldn't make them all follow her blindly. That wasn’t something that Chester would want to happen, even if it would leave Gwen less of a target. She would still have enemies.

  “No!” she yelled at him again, and Chester cringed when Silas wrapped his hand around hers. His first instinct was to lunge at him, but Hex gave him a warning glare.

  “I can’t believe you don’t think this is a great idea.”

  “Why? Why is it such a good idea? Why can’t it wait till the solstice?”

  “You can still perform it at the solstice, but it’ll just be for show. Protecting you against your enemies before then, that’s what I’m proposing. Keeping Evelyn and her vile family in check. Keeping my father at arms-length. That’s why.”

  “Your father will come after what he wants regardless if I’m protected by my coven or not. You know that.”

  “Yes, but why not have the advantage. I’ve already sealed the rite with my coven.”

  “What?” Shock reached her big blue eyes.

  Chester saw confusion settle on her face mixed with something that looked like hurt.

  “You asked me to join our rites together. Is that not what you want anymore?”

  With her words, Chester blanched. To join the coven’s together in a blood rites ritual meant to join the priestess and priest together. That type of union was as binding as a human wedding
. Chester thought of what that would mean. She’d only known him for a few short months. How? His heart felt as if it had been torn in half. He looked at them, unseeing, unfeeling and turned from their sight.

  ***

  Silas watched Chester leave the yard. He watched as the protector in love with his priestess walked down the driveway and out into the trees beyond. Then he looked at Gwen’s face. At the hope and hurt in her eyes.

  “I do. I want that more than anything. That is what we will celebrate on the solstice. This is about joining you to your coven and them to you. To give you more protection than you have now. Please. Please, Gwen. Do this for me. We can have everyone here by tonight.”

  She stopped protesting, took his hands in hers letting them hang in front of them. “Fine,” She said with a slump of her shoulders. “I’ll have Chester call Daniel and Marshal, but—?” She looked up at him pleading.

  “Yes, I promise. The solstice we will bind our covens together. The feud between our families will finally be over.”

  Gwen took a deep breath and exhaled. “You still want to?”

  “I think it’s time to show you something.”

  Silas was going to wait until after they were bound. He knew what the binding would mean. It would be forever. He knew that and he was looking forward to it. He’d come to care for her despite his father’s plans, the visions and all the danger around them both. So, it was time for her to see what she would be committing to. What their future together held. He would show her, and let her decide if she wanted to go through with the binding, or if she wanted to try to change what fate waited for them.

  It wasn’t always something easily done, but it might be possible. If they walked separate paths. It would kill him to walk away from her, but he would not trap her to a future without knowing everything he knew.

  “Your next lesson,” he started.