Claire scooted her chair back but didn’t stand. “Do you ever think about our mother?”
Moira considered her for a moment. “Sometimes. I do wonder what life would have been like if she’d lived, and we’d all grown up together.”
“She obviously loves Tierra more. And you, too.”
“What gave you that idiot notion?”
“Tierra stayed with the family while the rest of us were scattered. She has her crown and wand, and so do you.”
“Those don’t have anything to do with our mother. Tierra received hers from Malcolm de Moray, and Morgana de Moray brought mine after I made like a shish kabob and fell into the Sound. Why do you blame her?”
Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. I just keep thinking there must have been something she could have done to save us from all of this.”
Moira pinned her with a solemn gaze. “Maybe she did. Maybe that’s why we’re alive instead of drinking mud soup with the fishes. ‘Sides, Aerin doesn’t have hers yet, either. You’re just gonna have to be patient.”
She tried to find comfort from Moira’s words. Maybe their mother had loved them beyond words, beyond a lifetime. “I just miss her and wish I could have known her.”
“Me, too.” Moira turned the page of her tabloid and widened her eyes. “I’ll be damned.” She looked up with alarm blazing in her cool eyes. “I thought it was bad when I’d read that the Queen beheaded the prime minister, but look at this.”
She turned the magazine and shoved it toward Claire, pointing a finger to the photo of nothing but sand. “Pyramids have all sunk into the ever-loving ground. Gone. Just like that.”
“No.” Claire couldn’t believe that. “Someone must have taken a picture of an empty desert, and they’re now claiming it’s where the pyramids were.”
“If you don’t believe me, then look at this.” Moira flipped back a couple of pages and touched her finger to a photo of what looked like a pile of broken limestone and marble. “The Leaning Tower of Pisa toppled like a preacher’s wife at a whisky social. At the rate we’re going, it’s only a matter of days before Rome falls again, I reckon.”
Claire wished she could say it was all a bunch of bullshit, but for once in her life, the tabloids had probably gotten something right. “I can’t think about this right now, or it’s going to blow my mind.”
“It’s okay. I understand. It’s a lot to take in. Right now, you need rest. You’ve had a bitch of a day. We’ll tackle the Apocalypse tomorrow.”
In the safety of her room, Claire crawled into bed with Grim and patted her quilt to invite Kai to join her. The gorgeous red fox with intelligence glowing from his obsidian eyes curled into a ball at her feet. His fiery energy blended with hers, soothing her tormented soul.
“Hello, Grim.” She traced soft fingers down the rough skin of the book, working to keep her mind blank until the very last second. “Show me a spell that shields my thoughts,” she blurted out quickly.
Something sharp twisted in her gut, infusing her with sadness and pain as the pages flipped furiously in front of her. She swallowed and ignored the torture going on inside her as she scanned the spell.
Nothing but an incantation. No sacrifice. No concoctions. Just lethal words.
Before she could change her mind, she recited the spell, the discomfort inside her increasing until it finally popped. Like literally made a loud popping sound that came from somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.
She inhaled her relief. Waited for a moment to see if it would sustain itself, and it did. Then cautiously, she searched for a trace of Dru’s essence and found nothing but a cold, barren cavern where he’d once been. An incredible ache rolled through her. In an effort to fight it off, she wrapped her arms about her middle and curled onto her side.
Goddess, she thought watching Tommy go had been torture. That was nothing compared to this.
Kai whimpered and moved closer, touching his nose to hers.
She tried to breathe through the pain as she placed a hand on Kai’s fur. She’d survived losses before, and she would this one as well. If she could live without her fire—well, maybe that wasn’t the best comparison.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the fiery energy burning in her room until the fireplace went dark. It wasn’t as if she was cutting off Dru completely, but she couldn’t afford to have him haunting every thought. She had to think about thwarting the Apocalypse and saving the world first, and didn’t have time to be distracted by a hot guy who could kick Hercules’s ass with his pinkie toe. Even more so, if she and her sisters ever decided to do something drastic, then Dru couldn’t know.
A woman needed her secrets.
Chapter Nine
“What’s got your dick in a twist?” Nick asked as Dru dropped into the seat across from him.
Thankfully, none of the castle workers remained in the lounge this late except the red-headed butler. “Who says I’m pissy?” When the butler finally gained the courage to look in Dru’s direction, Dru nodded for him to bring his usual drink.
“I do.” Nick held his gaze as he removed his cuff links and dropped them to the small table between them. “If I was a betting man, and I am, I’d say you need to get laid.”
Dru cursed under his breath, not happy that his fellow Horseman could read him so easily. “You don’t know dick.”
Nick rumbled out a hearty laugh as he rolled up his sleeves. “You still haven’t spoken to Claire.”
He downed his shot of whisky the moment the butler set it on the table. “I’ve been too busy hunting down our favorite lady to worry about Claire. Claire will come around when she realizes she was wrong.” She had no other option.
Nick was smart enough to only respond with a nod.
“What about Moira? Why aren’t you with her tonight?”
Nick snorted. “I wore her out. Said she needed alone time with that pig of hers. They were going to paint their toenails.”
Dru chuckled despite the ache in his heart. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Trumped by a pork chop.”
“Fucking pig,” he muttered and then lifted his gaze to Dru. “Anything new on Her Royal Darkness?”
“No. I know she’s still here, but she’s gone completely underground.” Which pissed him off almost as much as Claire and her irrationality. Claire might think she’d cut him off, but he wasn’t that easy to outmaneuver.
“Give Lucy time. I’ve never known a narcissist who could stay out of the limelight for long. She’ll be back.”
“No doubt,” Dru commented. “But I’d like to get to her before she regains her full powers. Take her out once and for all.”
“Might already be too late.”
The butler returned to their table and placed a sizzling steak and baked cheesy potatoes in front of Dru, easing his ire. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” the timid butler managed to say.
“Looks so good, I believe I’ll let you live another day.” Dru sent him a fierce stare.
“Thank you, sir.” The young man ran from their table.
“You’re scaring the shit out of him.” Nick laughed.
Dru focused on his steak as he slid a knife through the meat, releasing juices onto his plate. “Punk kid flirted with my woman. Can’t let him think he can get away with that.” He met Conquest’s gaze and shoved the chunk of beef into his mouth.
Nick’s phone vibrated, and he snatched it from the table as though he’d been waiting for the message. He read whatever had popped up on his screen and then grinned. “Looks like I’ll be sleeping at Moira’s house tonight.” He swiped his cuff links from the table and stood.
“She summoned you, did she?”
“No one summons me. But yes, I’ll indulge her for tonight. I don’t know if Claire is anything like her sister, but if she is, you’d understand why I have no more time to sit around and talk shit with you.”
Dru snorted. “You’re pussy-whipped.”
“That reminds me. Moira asked
that I bring the cat o’ nine tails for the evening’s festivities.” Nick smirked. “Good luck with your celibacy.”
Dru growled the moment Nick walked out the door. The butler, who’d been midstride to his table, turned and scurried away.
Dru dropped his head into his hands and then scrubbed the scruff on his jaw. He had to figure out a way to reach Claire before he went insane. Half of him wanted to wring her neck for what she’d done. The other half ached to hold her and love her until she felt safe enough to let him in again.
****
Claire dipped and swooped in the night sky, loving the exhilarating feel of wind in her hair as she broom-flew over the Victorian seaport she now called home. Flying sure as hell beat lying in bed, fighting to erase Dru from her mind as easily as she had banished him from her soul. Keeping her broom in the sky required all of her concentration which was why she’d chosen it. She’d never command the heavens like Aerin did, but with her bike mangled, this was her only form of escape.
To be honest, soaring through the open air was pretty damn awesome. The fresh oxygen rushing past her was raw fuel to her fire and sent her heart racing. She’d left her sisters at home, oblivious to her escapades, all three of them otherwise occupied. They wouldn’t miss her. And for a few moments, she missed no one.
In fact, her sisters hadn’t missed her the previous two nights when she’d done the same. Claire smiled, reveling in her freedom. The world could end tomorrow, so she needed to enjoy the moment she had right now.
She doubted anyone in town who happened to look toward the heavens would notice her. The quarter moon currently cast in the sky didn’t glow as brightly, and she’d dressed in black leather as camouflage.
Still, this wasn’t only a joyride. She had a serious mission to accomplish. She’d located the witch hunters her first time out, and she intended to gather more information before she formulated a plan and presented it to her sisters. She’d surveyed the area for several days now, getting a good visual of the outlay of an old World War I army battery that seemed to be the witch hunters’ home base. Most of the vicious bastards ventured forth during the day and then returned to their cement hive at night like nasty wasps.
If she accomplished nothing else before all was said and done, she would destroy their camp with all of them in it. For now, though, she zoomed along the coastline one more time, not quite confident enough in her skills to skip across the Sound.
When she’d done her best to fill the empty vastness in her heart with the thrill of racing through the night sky, she aimed for the lighthouse and Kinzie Battery beyond. She stayed high in the sky as she soared over Fort Worden and only dropped when she had the full cover of trees below. A stray branch knocked her off-balance as she descended, and she tumbled the last six feet to the ground with her broom whopping her on the ass when it landed a second later.
She groaned as she picked herself up and brushed dirt from her leathers. “Those things need to have a self-landing mode or something,” she grumbled as she reached for the broom handle. She stored her ride safely beneath the same large pine as she had the two nights before and then crept closer to the cement shell of one of many World War I batteries.
Walking as silently as Kai might through the cool, pine-scented air, she crept closer to the secluded spot she’d discovered on her first escapade. She’d only meant to confirm the witch hunters’ basecamp was at Fort Worden like she suspected, but she’d been surprised by the sheer number of them hiding out there. Originally, she estimated maybe fifteen or so, but last night, she counted more than fifty circled around the outside cement pit filled with a blistering fire that seemed to be their gathering spot. Tonight, if they all congregated in their spot again, she intended to take a peek inside the cement battery.
She slowed as she reached her vantage point and dropped to her belly before peering down the hillside. The fire that normally roared in their pit lay dormant, disappointing her. She used it to count the number of people and memorize their faces. The fact that the witch hunters weren’t all there this evening also messed up the attack plan she’d begun to formulate.
A disturbance in the atmosphere chilled her. Just as she stood, intending to retreat, something snapped behind her. Claire whirled around, but no one was there. Her heart squeezed in panic as she scanned the area, and she did her best to remain calm. With no one in sight, she walked quickly and quietly toward her broom.
She had a hundred feet left to go when a black-clad figure shifted from the shadows. Then another and another. She reached for the knife sheathed at her side. Just as she touched the hilt of the blade, two strong arms banded around her, knocking her to the ground. She reached for the fire inside her until a bruising blow to the back of her head stole her consciousness.
****
Cold water splashed Claire’s face. She choked and sputtered against the shock of it, trying to gain her bearings. Each movement caused her head to pound with the force of a thousand hooves. The dank smell of moisture clogged her throat, and cold from the cement floor where she lay had long since seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. The glass of wine she had earlier threatened to reappear.
She dropped her gaze to the spot on her chest that burned her with pain and made it hard to breathe. A leather cord held an icy stone against her skin, the shock of it ripping a cry from her throat.
Blinking rapidly, she cleared her eyes and focused on fat, leather-clad legs standing in front of her. She shifted her gaze upward.
A man with a dark beard and black felt hat stood over her, holding a battery-powered lantern. Evil intention burned in his eyes. He kicked at her with his booted foot. Instinctively, she tried to block him, only to find her hands had been shackled to a thick chain anchored in the middle of the room. The tip of his boot landed hard against her thigh, and she cried out.
“Did you think we wouldn’t notice you’d been spying on us, witch?”
She searched for her fire but couldn’t access it. “What have you done to me? Let me go.”
Sadistic laughter echoed through the cavernous room. “No, witch. You won’t be getting free this time. There’s no one to save you. Your sisters are all home, and the Horsemen are otherwise occupied with women. While you were checking up on us, we were watching you.”
Dru? With someone else? Deep, piercing pain stabbed straight into her heart. The witch hunter’s words cut more than the iron shackles about her wrists.
He nudged her again with his foot. “I’ve come to give you one last chance at salvation. Tell me how to remove the spell protecting your house, and we will kill you and your sisters quickly. Refuse, and I’ll personally make sure your pain is unimaginable.”
“Fuck you. Let me go, and I’ll offer you the same deal.”
“Still cocky after all these years, Tierra de Moray. My mama told me what you were, years ago. She said all witches deserved to die. Should have listened to her then. Would have saved all of mankind a heap of trouble.”
He thought she was Tierra? “Fuck you.” Did he not realize Tierra was now pregnant?
“Such a dirty mouth. Don’t remember you being so vulgar back in school. I guess your true colors are showing.” He chuckled. “I have to say I’m glad you didn’t accept my offer. The sounds of your screams will be music to my ears.”
He took several steps toward the exit before turning back. “Might want to take a few minutes to make peace with your God. You’ll be meeting him shortly.”
“Goddess!” she tossed at his retreating back and heard him laugh in response. Anger burned inside her as he strode away, and she released an irate growl. “I swear to Goddess I will kill you!”
She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing desperately she could reach out to Dru. She’d jumped the gun far too many times in her life. The price of this one might be her life.
Chapter Ten
Claire struggled against her restraints again, furious that they held her in place. Her head throbbed like she’d be
en hit with a ten-pound boulder, making it hard to keep her thoughts clear. Nausea turned her stomach into a tempest-tossed sea. “Son of a bitch.” She flicked her gaze to the sheath at her side, angry all over again that it was empty. But, of course, they wouldn’t leave a dagger with her.
After everything that had happened, she should have been better prepared.
She filled her lungs with precious oxygen and tried to will away her panic and block the vicious amulet hanging about her neck. This wasn’t over yet. She’d escaped equally dangerous situations, and if she kept her wits about her, she might do the same this time. Goddess help her.
She closed her eyes and sent out frantic tendrils of thought in each direction, searching for any source of heat or fire. The cold cement surroundings didn’t aid her exploration, and she cursed the fact that the witch hunters hadn’t worshipped a bonfire that night like they had the others.
Quickly, she took stock of her resources. Fire wasn’t an option, at least for the moment. She wished to hell she’d had Dru teach her how to create an illusion, if that was at all possible. She’d make those freakish witch hunters believe they were all burning in hell.
She had her words…which hadn’t helped so far since the asshole who held her was more likely to kick her than talk. Though he did think she was Tierra, in which case she might try to fake a childhood relationship with him and beg for mercy.
“They’re about to crucify you, and you’re meditating?”
Claire ripped open her eyelids to find Lucy crouching nearby, staring intently at her.
Claire snorted a delirious laugh, unable to maintain her dignity any longer. “As if things couldn’t get worse. What the hell do you want, She-devil?” If Lucy thought she could possess her like she’d done with Aerin, she’d better reconsider.
Instead of taking offense, Lucy smiled. “I like that…She-devil. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Satan looked better than she had the night Dru chased her off, but she hadn’t quite cast off the haggardness that dulled her perfection.
Which Witch is Wild? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 3) Page 29
