Tegan's Return (The Ultimate Power Series #2)

by L.H. Cosway

  “Listen Finn, I don’t want to self-analyse right now. I just want to go and get drunk.” I pull on a crumpled grey t-shirt and some black jeans with my boots, run my fingers through my hair, and I’m ready to go. I grab my coat and walk right past Finn to hurry downstairs where Rita, Alvie, Gabriel and Delilah have culminated in the kitchen.

  They’re all really dressed up and Rita gives me an appraising look. “That’s what you’re wearing eh?”

  I shrug and pull on my coat. Wolf comes over and gives me a slobbery lick on the back of my hand. I kneel down to rub his head. “Hey, are you coming with us, boy?” I ask. Wolf barks once in response, so I take that as an affirmative.

  I go over to the kitchen cupboard and pull out the bottle of vodka I’d hidden there earlier in the week. I shove it inside my coat without anyone noticing. We all huddle into Finn’s van and make the half hour journey out to Sycamore Strand. The place is really living up to its reputation right now. Somebody has lit hundreds of candles and has spread them out all along the sand. They twinkle like fairies in the dark. Magical.

  There are about a hundred people gathered, all camped out on woolly blankets and sipping on bottles of beer. There’s a portable stereo sitting on a rock playing some kind of trance music. It really sets the scene, and I’m glad Rita asked me to come. This is the perfect place for me to get drunk and forget for a little while.

  Most of the people here are hippies, they chat and laugh and welcome us right into the party. I sit down on a blanket in between Rita and Alvie, while surreptitiously taking sips of the vodka that sits nestled in the inside pocket of my coat. I haven’t got the patience it takes to get drunk on beer tonight.

  I notice that Finn’s being quite flirtatious with Delilah, but she’s not really reciprocating. Still, Finn being Finn, her reserved demeanour doesn’t deter him. Sometimes I wonder if he flirts because he’s actually interested in a girl, or simply for the fun of it. He enjoys being the wind up merchant does Finn. I lay back on the blanket, while Rita and Alvie continue to chat over my head. I stare up at the night sky, where thousands of stars glitter against a deep, black canvas. No moon tonight though. At least I can’t seem to spot it anywhere.

  I’m feeling increasingly more tipsy from the alcohol, and my eyes tip back to look over where there are shrubs, grass and rocks beyond the sand. I hear the motor of a vehicle approach before I spot a van driving by. It keeps to the grass and passes by the gathering of people on the beach, continuing to the very end where it disappears around the side of a cliff.

  Even though it’s dark, my eyes still register the colour of the vehicle. Red. That provokes a memory, and I try to remember when it was that I last saw a red van. My mind is a little hazy, but soon the answer presents itself. The time when I’d been searching Freemont park for Dad with Ethan, and I’d had that fizzing feeling in my stomach until a red van had driven off down the road. Had my dad been in the red van, or perhaps whoever it is who took him?

  Abruptly, I sit up and pat Wolf on the head, who has been sitting by my feet. I tell the others that I need to go and relieve my bladder somewhere private so that they won’t question where I’m off to. Wolf follows hot on my heels and I hurry to the end of the beach, which takes quite a while since it’s about a mile long.

  When I get past the corner of the cliff, I peer up at the overhang as it looms above me. I rush to the other side, but the van is nowhere to be seen. Then something flickers far off in the distance. I squint my eyes to see, it looks like somebody’s set a fire in one of the caves. Normally I wouldn’t try to investigate all on my own, but I have Wolf with me as well as the idiotic courage of alcohol. I’m feeling brave, and I continue on through the rocks and sand before coming to the opening of a cave.

  The red van is parked just outside the cave, I hadn’t been able to see it before from such a distance. Something heavy and dark fills the air, the atmosphere is thick with an unpleasantness I can quite put my finger on. And crap, my palms are tingling again. This is it, my dad could be on the other side of this cave. The problem is, I don’t know who else is in there, and whether I’ll be a match for them. I really should have gotten the others to come with me. All of a sudden, I’m as sober as a judge. It’s funny how fear will do that to you.

  Wolf begins to whimper as he stands next to my leg. I try to hush him but it sounds like he’s in pain. Then he drops to the sand and his entire body starts to convulse. I fall to my knees and put my hands on his fur, which is abnormally cold and rough. What the hell is going on?

  I rub him up and down his back and he continues to whine and shiver, his whole form shaking helplessly, and it almost looks like he’s shifting in and out of my vision. Perhaps I’m not as sober as I thought.

  I can hear the fire crackling now from inside the cave, as well as a number of voices speaking in unison, chanting almost. I don’t want to leave Wolf alone, but I know that whatever is causing him to shake so violently is coming from the cave. I take a step forward and peer around the stone entrance.

  Shadows dance on the high stone ceiling, and smoke rises from the flames. Everything is blurry though, and I can’t seem to make out the figures properly as they circle the fire in the centre of the space. The vision puts me in mind of Rumpelstiltskin, as he danced around the fire at night, singing the riddle of his name.

  My eyes draw up then, and I notice that there’s a makeshift platform above the fire, standing almost eight foot tall. And God, there’s a body stretched out flat upon it. Whoever it is, they howl in pain as the flames rise higher and lick at their flesh.

  In my head, I can’t help but to recite the children’s nursery rhyme, today I’ll brew, tomorrow bake, merrily I’ll dance and sing, for the next day will a stranger bring, little does my lady dream, Rumpelstiltskin is my name. It’s always stuck with me that rhyme, ever since I’d been a kid. There was something about it that I found very creepy, and it resembles the current situation quite accurately.

  The figures continue to move in circles, the movements are harsh and barbaric. In fact, they resemble the gestures of the magical families. Their words are foreign to me, yet I know that their meaning will not bode well.

  I keep my body pressed flat against the stone wall, as I move further and further inside the cave. I should be running a mile, but that pull is there again, the one that pulled me to find Rebecca in Whitfield’s mansion. The heat of the fire causes a bead of sweat to trickle down my forehead, it catches in my eyebrow.

  The figure I can see the clearest is male, he seems familiar, and it takes a moment for me to recognise him. It’s the man who lead the witches and warlocks when they’d set fire to Rita’s house. Michael Ridley.

  There are six of them in all, some are female, but it’s another male that my eyes are drawn to. He’s even more familiar than Ridley, he’s tall and has long grey hair held together by a strip of thin leather. Oh my God. It’s Marcel! I think I’m going to be sick. Now I know whose mouth it was I’d recognised in the vision of my dad created by Rita’s magical spell bowl.

  Again I look up at the body spread out on the platform, and my sight becomes clearer. I know whose body that is, the body of the man who brought me into this world, who I have been searching for for weeks. Dad.

  Tears escape my eyes and confusion clouds my brain, as I try to figure out what the hell they are doing with him. Why has Marcel taken my father? I need to do something to stop this, and I wince as another pain induced scream emits from my dad’s throat. The heat in the cave is too much to take, and the fire grows higher and higher, as though induced through magic.

  This is the ritual the dying witch Zara had mentioned my dad’s kidnappers were going to use him for. And it’s New Year’s Eve, surely the day has some kind of significance. Leaving behind the old to embrace the new. But what is the outcome they wish to achieve? Are these the people the warlock had spoken of to Ethan and Whitfield by the lake that time? He’d said they were trying to bring somebody back, but who? These questions and a d
ozen more swirl through my head, no answers presenting themselves, and this increases my fear, anger and frustration tenfold.

  My hands continue to tingle. My magic is just waiting for me to use it. It seems that, unintentionally, I have become accustomed to containing it, without even practising the way Rita had instructed me to.

  The chanting turns to English now, and it’s Marcel who speaks over the group, he has a brown jug in his hand and he raises it up high above his head. “With this power laden blood, I summon the opening of the worlds.” He stops and gestures to my father on the platform. “With this man, I wish to complete the exchange. A life returned here, for another sent there. Meld the blood of the daughter with the life of the pater familias and bring my great ancestor back to this plane.”

  Power laden blood? Oh God, that’s my blood, the blood that got stolen from me when I’d been on my way home from Rita’s. How did Marcel know about it?

  Marcel continues to speak. “Once the blood is spilled, so it shall be done.” He tips the jug forward, but I rush into the fray, both arms moving all about, gesturing to summon my magic. The sparks fly out but they don’t burn this time, they circle the jug, holding it in place so that my blood cannot be spilled.

  Marcel’s eyes dart to me, as do those of the other members of the circle. “Darling,” he beams, with the falsest of smiles. “Welcome, and please do refrain from what you are doing. The ritual is already in motion, there is no going back now. Unless you want the denizens of hell to be given free reign to move between the realms.”

  “Let my dad go,” I breathe, not letting go of my magical hold on the jug.

  “I’m afraid that is impossible now. Do not worry, he won’t die, we’re just sending him to another place.” Marcel explains, his face is hard and I can tell he’s doing his best to remain calm.

  “LET. HIM. GO!” I scream, and use my other hand to throw sparks at Marcel. He grimaces as they hit his skin, but he doesn’t wail in pain, instead he suffers through it.

  I’m about to throw more sparks at him when I’m suddenly knocked to the ground and held down by Michael Ridley. I lose my hold on the jug and it crashes down into the fire. The moment it hits, the fire fades into a gaping, misty black hole in the ground. Dark shadows rise up and seep out of it. One of the female members of the circle reaches up and pulls on a rope. The platform comes apart and my father falls into the hole. A split second later it closes and seals itself shut.

  The fire has disappeared, and there is an unearthly silence. I stare at the place where the hole had been as it swallowed up my dad, and there lies a black clad body, with black hair and paler than pale skin. The body stands up while the members of the circle come to surround it, their heads bowed as though greeting a deity.

  The deity runs a hand through his hair, and straightens out the black suit he’s wearing. Then, the deepest dark eyes land on me and I shudder in terror as I comprehend the fact that Theodore, the Sorcerer Theodore, Rita’s father and overall evil being number one, is standing right before me.

  Theodore turns to Marcel and embraces him. “My kin, I thank you for bringing me back to this world. It really has been an exhausting ordeal.” His kin? Theodore is related to Marcel, he’s a Girard? Theodore speaks as though he’s just been on one of those horrible cheap holidays to some Spanish Island, not like he’s spent the last two years in hell. Actual hell.

  “You are most welcome, Great Grandfather,” Marcel bows his head. Yeah, make that great, great, great, great, great grandfather, my brain provides. “There has been terrible devastation for our kind in this city,” Marcel goes on. “But now that you are back, I’m sure that will not be the case for long.”

  Theodore laughs, and the sound vibrates around the cave. “I have been estranged from my dear family for many years, it is a wonderful thing to finally gain some of it back.” His eyes land on each member of the circle in turn. “I would like to thank all of you, we may not share blood, but for what you have done for me, you are my family now too.”

  Those present mumble their thanks with a mixture of awe, excitement, and a small drop of fear. Perhaps they are wondering if Theodore really is grateful to them for bringing him back. Silence ensues, before Theodore glances back at me again. “And you, little treasure trove, you I thank most of all for the valuable gift of your blood. I could not have returned without it.” Then he laughs, and a purple mist begins to surround him, the others laugh too. My skin is crawling with it. The purple mist seeps closer to me, and the closer it gets the more I lose consciousness. Soon enough, I fall away into a violet tinged darkness.

  Chapter Twenty

  Truce

  I wake up to the dull light of the morning, the sounds of seagulls cawing, and the gentle splash of waves against the shore. My head feels like it weighs a tonne, and it hurts like a bastard because I had been resting it against the hard rock surface of the cave floor.

  Where have Theodore and the others gone? There is not one piece of evidence to suggest that anything had happened here last night. And what I really don’t understand is why they let me live. I sit up and find a small note folded at the end of my feet. I pick it up, reading it out loud, my voice is scratchy from exhaustion.

  Dear Treasure, you will do well to keep what transpired last night to yourself. You gave me something, so I am giving you something in return. Your life. Live it wisely. From T.

  Fuck! Theodore is back. My dad has been sent to a hell dimension in exchange for the Sorcerer’s return. I shove the note into my coat pocket and stumble to my feet, taking a moment to steady myself.

  Making my way out of the cave, I take in a deep breath of the fresh sea air to clear my head. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I notice that there are about twenty missed calls from Rita and Finn, and a whole range of messages. Crap, they must be worried sick about me. I’m just about to call Rita when I almost fall over as I stumble into something solid at my feet.

  I look down and let out a loud gasp, because there is a stark naked man lying there. Somebody must have had a wild time last night. This is the initial explanation that springs to mind. However, the longer I study him, the more something in my gut tells me that a crazy New Year’s Eve is not the reason why this man is sprawled out naked and unconscious in a secluded part of the beach.

  Then something else hits me, this is the exact spot where I had left Wolf when he’d been shaking and convulsing. My eyes rake over the man. He’s got long, dark brown hair, an athletically muscular body, like that of an ancient warrior, and deeply tanned skin. Is this Wolf changed into human form? Funny how this all seems so logical to me after witnessing my dad get swallowed whole by a portal to hell. Perhaps this is some unintentional result of the magic that was released last night during the ritual. I have no other reasoning, all I know is that Finn’s dog is nowhere to be seen.

  I lift up my phone again, this time opting to call Finn instead of Rita. Perhaps he can shed some light on the situation.

  The phone barely rings out once when he answers frantically, “Tegan! Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m at the other end of Sycamore Strand, past the cliff. Can you come and get me?”

  “I’ll be ten minutes,” Finn replies.

  He’s about to hang up but I stop him. “Also, I think you should bring some blankets for your dog.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with Wolf?”

  “Well, how do I put this – I’m ninety nine per cent sure he’s not your dog any more, he’s a man. One big ass man at that, and he’s naked, so like I said, bring some blankets, or better yet, clothing.”

  Finn doesn’t tell me I’m a lunatic, instead he lets out a loud string of curse words that don’t bear repeating. I hang up, and sit down on a rock to wait for him to get here, all the while staring in fascination at the man who once was Wolf.

  All of a sudden, he groans and shifts a little. Then his eyes flutter open, big, deep brown eyes that are peering at his surroundings in terror. He raises a hand
and stares at it, turning it over and back with wonder.

  “Are you okay?” I ask softly, keeping up my position a few feet away from him on the rock. I don’t want to get too close in case I scare him, although judging from his stature and nakedness, I’m the one who should be scared.

  Brown eyes find me and they don’t stop staring. Still, he doesn’t breathe a word in response. It’s almost like he’s forgotten how to form words. He’s been an animal for so long that he doesn’t know how to speak. What is he? Was he a man before he became a dog, or simply a dog who has been magically transformed into a man?

  A few minutes later I hear the roar of an engine as Finn speeds down the beach towards us. He parks and jumps out, carrying a massive blanket. He barely even looks at me when he rushes to the naked man’s side and drapes the blanket over his shoulders.

  The others emerge from the van, all looking like they haven’t slept a wink. I suppose they have me to thank for that.

  “What is he?” I whisper to Finn, who is studying Wolf as though making sure that he’s not hurt in any way.

  Gabriel, Delilah, Rita and Alvie all stand around, their eyes glued to Wolf in shock and awe. There’s a long moment of quiet before Finn answers, “He’s a shapeshifter.”

  “A shapeshifter?” I question.

  Finn sighs in exhaustion. “Yes, a very rare kind of supernatural creature who can shift into various animal forms. This man’s name is Ira Wolf and he was a friend of my old DOH superior Noel, the man who used to own the house I live in. Almost twenty years ago Ira had a run in with a witch who cursed him to remain in his animal form. Noel had been taking care of him until he died in the war. Tegan, how did he get changed back?”

  “I’m not sure, but you all better sit down, because I’ve got a lot to tell you.” I know Theodore warned me to keep my mouth shut, but no way am I going to keep my friends in the dark. I tell them all about what happened last night, from seeing the red van all the way through to my dad taking Theodore’s place in hell. I have to hold in my tears at this point, thinking of how he might be suffering right now. I finish on the part where I woke up and found Wolf unconscious and transformed. Everybody’s completely awe-struck to discover that Theodore is in fact a Girard. Nobody had ever been able to trace exactly which family he came from since he’s so old.