by Patti Larsen
She had the nerve to laugh.
“Bad boy,” she said to Quaid who lay groaning on the ground. “You will be punished later.”
Because of Quaid’s sacrifice, I now had the seeds of an idea but no way to carry it out. From Mom’s face she knew what I was thinking. She wasn’t any better off than me. I had to find a way to make it work.
“Can you feel it, Miriam?” Batsheva glowed like a small star, her whole body swelling and retracting with the flow of it. “Can you feel my victory at hand? With Haralthazar’s magic and that of the Hayle family at my disposal, I am far more powerful than you ever were. But wait,” she laughed, “do you know why I chose your precious brother and his aberration to seal the circle?”
“So you could access that source, too,” Mom whispered.
Batsheva laughed.
“Oh, but that’s not all,” Batsheva went on. “No, not nearly. There is one other kind I need, one more type of magic to make me complete, all powerful, immortal.”
The big black dog that was Jared Runnel let out a sharp yelp and collapsed.
“Batsheva!” He howled at her, twisting in pain on the ground as her power wrapped around him and started to feed. “What are you doing?”
“What I intended all along, dog,” she hissed at him. I knew it was true as much as he did. No time for I told you so. She never meant to free him, only to absorb his life force like she was taking ours and keep it for herself. He howled like a wounded wolf and continued to struggle.
“The token of the Sidhe,” Mom said. “This cannot happen.” She pulled herself to her feet. I knew she was about to try something, anything, to stop Batsheva. She would fail and most probably die in the process.
“You cannot,” Mom said. “I will not let you.”
Batsheva laughed again, the light so bright I had to squint to see her.
“You have nothing, are nothing. I have taken everything you were, Miriam. It’s all mine now, mine and you will never be able to stop me!”
Mom gathered her remaining power. It felt pitiful compared to what she once commanded. I was amazed she was still able to tap in at all. I fed my own waning strength to her but she pushed me away. She threw what remained of her at the bond holding the vampires in thrall.
I knew she was right, knew our best bet was to break the circle, to escape. Still, I couldn’t help trying to come up with another way. Maybe it was wishful thinking in a terrible time of impending doom.
I met my grandmother’s eyes. Ethpeal Hayle, unbowed witch who defeated the Purity coven and saved her family, looked back at me. She reached out and touched Meira’s forehead.
“Your sister,” she whispered, “looks like a demon but feels like a human.”
I bent over her as I felt my mother struggle above me, trying to understand what Gram was saying. She touched my forehead.
“You look like a human,” she said.
I was confused and desperate and wondered if she was really in there after all. But her stare held so steady, so full of intent, I knew she was expending the very last of her own energy to keep herself present long enough to get her message across.
I was just a little slow on the uptake.
“Gram,” I whispered. “I don’t understand.”
“How do you feel?” she asked.
It seemed like such a weird question I focused on it. How did I feel? How did I feel?
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like a demon. As the struggle for reality left her, I hugged her and whispered, “thank you” in her ear. Gram dissolved back into insanity.
She tried to warn me all along and I didn’t listened. She wanted me to pay attention, but I was too busy or too angry with Mom or too wrapped up in my own crap to get it. But I understood it now.
I felt like a demon and she was pissed off big time.
Mom collapsed, spent, her efforts wasted. She crumpled to the ground, still alive and conscious, but barely.
Batsheva laughed again. Jared, Galleytrot, writhed next to her, the light fading from his huge red eyes. His met mine. There was desperation there, and, finally, a promise.
Time to act.
The demon roared her approval.
***
Chapter Thirty Seven
I found standing easier than I thought it would be. In fact, now that I understood the rules, I was calmer, more centered, ready to do what I had to do to save my family.
I reached out for Dad and touched his power with mine. He was in agony but shielded me from most of it. I knew it cost him. I pulled back and reached for Jared. I touched the rim of the circle and the vampire blood magic holding me back. I struggled to understand and opened up to let my demon have a look. Through her, we were able to see how we were different, how combined we could break the hold on us. If we only had a source big enough to feed from. That very power source gloated in a ball of light on the other side of the barrier.
“You can’t, Syd, can you?” Batsheva goaded me. “Your demon is tied to your father and he can’t defend himself, either. It’s over and you know it.”
She focused her drawing on me. I staggered as she starting pulling my power away. I reached out with my demon. We sliced a thin hole in the circle and managed to get to her. I pulled myself up straight and hit her with everything I had, driving the demon into her.
She laughed at me.
“Found a way through, did you?” She taunted. “But, oh so sad, too weak to do anything about it.” Her laugh was more cackle than humor. I could see the insanity the buildup brought to her mind.
It was no use. I may have been able to reach her but I couldn’t affect her. At least, I knew, not as I was. Being half human and half demon gave me the ability to sense Jared, to worm my way through his green fairy magic now I knew what it was. Why hadn’t I sensed before the subtle touch of nature, the scent of leaves and fresh tilled earth? I still held back, keeping my human self in control while trying to use the demon within me to defeat Batsheva. It was then I understood the only way I would ever have a chance was if I gave myself over totally and completely to the power inside me and let the demon act.
The very thought of it made me cringe, curl up and want to hide, to run, the sheer terror at the chance of losing myself to her battling with my need to save my family. I struggled against her as she fought for control, coming to the same realization as I did at the same time. I pushed at her, but she wasn’t having any. I was left with a full-blown war on my hands.
That is, until I felt Dad and Sass in my mind and their gentle, steadying presence. Knowing this was the only hope for my family, feeling them around me, their weakness, I shuddered past the compulsion that blocked me all my life. My will to help them was stronger. I dropped my defenses and let my demon go.
How silly. Why had I fought for so long? The demon within me stood next to me in my body. We merged like we were meant to be one. I felt calm, detached. The barrier wasn’t a wall to me anymore. In fact, I could see now the lines feeding it like slender strings connecting the vampires to the circle. I knew exactly what to do, saw the weakness that would defeat Batsheva and with the strength now to do it. I felt a gentle pang of guilt as I reached out and severed her connection to the power from every source at once.
The circle imploded. I felt the magic from it rush past me in a wave, saw the light disperse in a flare of lost energy. Everything in me collapsed. I fell to the ground, spent in that one massive union with my demon. I was left there on the ground, exposed and helpless as the shrieking Batsheva, now normal again with her source cut off too soon, attacked me.
I didn’t even have the presence to be afraid. She lashed out with enough hatred left to end my life if not rule the world. I felt her magic lurch toward me to be blocked and dissipated by a solid wall of gold. My father, monstrous in his fury, lashed out and brought the witch to her knees.
The black dog was free. He dragged himself to his feet, shaking his shaggy head to clear it. I watched as my sister’s power freed the two vampire
s and lowered them softly to the earth. Uncle Frank’s body settled next to me. As he touched the ground his eyes opened.
“Syd,” he whispered.
“Hi, Uncle Frank,” I said.
I looked up to the hateful sound of Batsheva’s laughter. She was back on her feet, glowing. I was too late. She absorbed enough, it seemed, to stand against even a full-blown demon lord. She lashed out at him. Dad staggered, already weakened by the siphoning that gave her strength. She hit him again and again. I saw my father crumple under the force of her attack, fighting a losing battle that would mean the end of us all if he failed.
He reached for Mom, not for support, but with a wave of love. She threw her new-won power to him—and I blocked her.
Dad looked at me. My demon looked back. I reached out to him, to Jared and touched Uncle Frank all at the same time. Dad’s whole being burned with understanding. Alone, we didn’t stand a chance.
I was depleted, but I could still be a focus. As they sent everything they had to me, I found I wasn’t quite so empty as I thought. My demon mustered her last reserves. Swelling with this new surge of force, the odd sensation of the different types of magic flowing through me, I took control of the witch’s sources of power and slammed Batsheva Moromond into the earth.
With her collapse, the stolen magic recoiled. The site fell into total silence, a heartbeat of utter stillness in which I held my breath. The column of blue and amber rose from her in a rush, entwined with the now familiar green Sidhe and the ghostly white of the undead. I felt the wind of its rebirth blow my hair back, crushing my rumpled clothing to me. I squinted as the gusts rose, sending debris flying. The spinning vortex hummed as it spiraled higher and higher, winding tightly together until the whole thing was tinted a soft, sunlit yellow, pulsing like a young star. It sent its power out to engulf us, restore us. I heard Sassy cry out but was too wrapped up in the experience to look his way. My whole body vibrated with it, senses overloaded, and I knew what it was to be immortal.
It wasn’t to last. Unable to sustain itself for long, the power began to vibrate, four sources not meant to be bonded shaking into their diverse parts. Feeling the finality of the buildup, I covered my face with my hands just as the volatile core of power reverted and shattered. I felt it pass through me in a hot rush and knew it returned to those it had been stripped from. The missing spirits of the twins and the fallen coven members went back to their bodies, the echoes of their release from the hold Batsheva had on them touching all of us.
It wasn’t over yet. To my horror I saw blue, pink, silver and orange magic rise from Batsheva, thin strings, transparent spirits, fleeing toward the sky. These unfamiliar souls sang with relief at their freedom. Their tender thanks brought tears to my eyes. I wondered how far Batsheva’s evil spread and if her last coven disbanded after all.
The song faded. I found myself on my feet, once again in the quiet dark, feeling great, fresh, like I just had the best night’s sleep of my life. My family experienced the same effects as me. And Sassafras, my fat cat friend, was shiny and whole, his fur intact, Persian body perfect.
He winked one huge yellow eye at me and started to groom himself.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Until I saw my father’s face. A shiver ran through me at the fear in his eyes. He tried to hide it, but it was too late. I knew what I was able to do was not only unusual, but it was enough to terrify my demon father to the point he let it show.
It triggered my familiar barrier, the one I ignored since the threat to my family forced me to choose magic over what I wanted. Fear slid up my walls like ice, reinforcing them, hardening them beyond my old shields. I tried to ignore the howling of my demon now trapped on the other side. If Dad was afraid of her, so was I. There was no way I would ever let her out again.
Quaid made a grab for Dominic when he attempted to escape. I watched as he manhandled his father into submission. I caught one last look at Dad in time to see him fade from his statue, a sad and troubled expression on his face.
I sat on the hard ground and hugged myself. As much as I wanted to be happy it was all over, I couldn’t shake the feeling we hadn’t seen the last of big trouble for the family. The power I possessed was a threat to us, as well, I knew, a power that could break out and destroy us if I let it. I tried to forget the feeling of my demon next to me, the knowing I could do anything, have anything and no one would be able to stand in my way if I chose it.
That was so it. At the first opportunity, I was going to make my mother wall up my demon for good, no matter what it took.
Mom stood over Batsheva, sadness on her face but a strength in her I recognized. My mother was back and more powerful than ever, thanks to Batsheva’s meddling. The core of the coven, the ghost of the Hayle magic, was once more in Mom’s possession. Combined with it, I could feel the very power Batsheva tried to steal. I wondered how Mom planned to explain her new Sidhe undead abilities to the others.
I felt a hand on my arm. Gram grinned, drool running down her chin, her crazed gaze gleaming in the dim illumination of the candles.
“Still all here,” she said. “Darkness loses.”
“Light wins,” I finished for her.
“Light wins,” she said. “Now give it back.”
Crazy old lady.
***
Chapter Thirty Eight
The wailing started and would not stop. It was a horrible, broken sound, full of frustration and despair. It pierced me like a knife.
We all came together over the hunched form of Batsheva Moromond. I felt Quaid join us, his face expressionless but eyes soft as he watched his mother, wretched, shattered, shriek her sanity away into the night.
As she did, they started to arrive, slowly at first, in ones and twos, then large groups of them all at once, the coven, our family, come to pass judgment on the saboteur who almost destroyed us. None of them approached, leaving us alone, keeping their distance, standing guard over the Moromonds to allow us our moment together.
By the time the witches gathered, it was getting close to dawn.
“We should go,” Uncle Frank said to us. Sunny shone beside him. She brushed my face with her fingertips in thanks.
“Stay,” Mom said. “You are welcome here, both of you. From now on, you are always welcome.”
Frank grinned at her. “Thanks, and any other time, we’ll take you up on it.” He looked to the east and the growing dawn. “We don’t exactly have much choice at the moment.”
We hugged them. I closed my eyes as I felt them dissolve and fly to safety for the day, feeling Uncle Frank’s energy hug me as he left.
“Love you, too,” I whispered.
I opened my eyes at the brush of fairy magic. Jared stepped forward. He reverted to his human state. I saw Erica in the crowd, her face pinched with guilt and anger that he fooled her for so long.
“I, too, have to go,” he said.
“You are welcome with us, Galleytrot,” Mom told him. I saw the hope and gratitude that crossed his face. It faded.
“I can’t, but you are a generous woman to offer. You have been nothing but kind to me. I need to offer something in return.”
“You already have,” she said. “I feel your power in me, now, and I thank you for it.”
We all knew it hadn’t been his choice to make it a gift, but he didn’t try to take it back, either.
“All I can grant you is a warning,” he said.
“The others will come,” Mom answered. I shuddered. I almost forgot about the Wild Hunt.
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “They have been asleep for so long, but Batsheva and her meddling has brought them to the edge of waking. When they do, they will know about you.”
“Thank you, Galleytrot,” she said. “I will be watchful. I will know when they rise.”
He sank into his other form. The coven gasped as Jared became the huge black dog.
“Know this,” he growled out in his elemental, gravelly voice. “Whatever advantage you think you have
from knowing, whatever plan you have to stand against them, when the Wild Hunt wakes, they will come for you, Miriam Hayle, and no power, not even that you have from me, will be able to stop them.”
With that, he disappeared.
If it hadn’t been for the perfectly serene look on her face, I would have been afraid. But, after what we went through, I figured we’d face it when it came and worry about it then.
Mom caught me watching her and winked.
My mother turned to the gathered coven, drawing Meira, Gram, Sassy and I to her as she faced those who let her down. I shook in fury. I wanted to tell the whole lot of them off. If they just stood behind her, if they were stronger, Batsheva would never have been able to come between the family and my mother.
I felt her hand on my shoulder squeeze followed by the gentle brush of her familiar power over me. I recognized how much I missed it, the perfect, warm weight of it. I was terrified it was gone forever. I calmed under her touch, trusting her to deal with them and for once keeping my big mouth shut.
“My coven, my sisters and brothers,” she said, “my very good friends, what has happened has happened. There will be no blame placed from this moment on.”
A groan ran through the gathered witches as they felt her forgiveness and love and her renewed bond to them.
“What of the Moromonds?” Erica asked. “Surely they are to be blamed?”
There was a murmur of agreement, an anger rising as the self-doubt and guilt turned outward. I saw the greatly reduced Dominic shrink back from them, terror etched in his pinched face.
Batsheva stayed stubbornly unrepentant. Her wailing ceased as she listened.
Mom held up one hand, calling for silence. It came in a breath.
“They must be punished,” she said, “but they will be treated to the letter of our laws. They will have a fair and honest trial led by the High Council. There will be no old world justice here. I will not have its negative energy weaken us any further.”
