by Erin Hayes
But he couldn’t divide his mental energy looking for his brother right now. He pushed more magic into the dark, let it take everything from him. Everything the gypsies had imbued in him, everything he had already had in himself. The time to meter out magic was gone. If he didn’t stop this soon, it wasn’t going to end.
Finally, the displacement started to retract. Slowly at first, but then sucking in on itself until it was gone.
Roman dropped to his knees and sucked in gasping breaths of icy air that stung his lungs. Rain beat down on his back and shoulders, and the sand scraped at his forehead.
All that for nothing.
He took another calming breath and reconnected with his brother’s psyche.
“Adam. I know I screwed up, but I need—”
He was cut off by the rumbling again, loud and angry.
His eyes went wide as a bolt of lightning reached out from the tumultuous sky again. This time, though, it didn’t come for him. Roman ran to where the lightning had struck.
No.
His steps slowed as his gaze fell on the spot. Landed on his brother.
Absorbing the scene before his eyes, he picked up into a run again, a mantra of no, no, no ticking through his head, beating in his heart.
The bolt had torn into Adam, and Roman screamed, collapsing next to his brother’s lifeless body. The rain continued to fall without apology. Without sympathy. It continued to spit from the sky as though its drops weren’t pelting against death itself.
Adam’s shirt had been torn open by the force of the lightning, and etched across his chest—a signature of the heathens who would use this magic to kill him—was one word.
Fairweather.
Chapter Nine
Julia spent the rest of that night tossing and turning. Sleep didn’t come easily and, when it did, it was plagued by horrible nightmares of a green glowing light and lightning.
When the morning finally came, blissfully relieving her of the burden of resting, it came with a bang.
She felt him only a little at first, like a memory gently nudging her from sleep with an easy hand. Then, and all at once, that hand became a shove, almost knocking her out of bed as it shook her awake.
It was familiar—as familiar as the voice inside her head. In fact, there were days when she thought they were one in the same.
“Roman,” she said, sitting up in bed.
But why was she feeling him, and what was the tint of horror that surrounded his aura as she took it in.
Julia got out of bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, moving toward the window and trying to beat back the building sense of dread that was starting to pool inside her heart.
She pulled the curtains open. It didn’t matter. Whatever was causing this sensation had already happened. This was no premonition. Whatever it was couldn’t be stopped.
But when she saw him, her breath caught in her throat.
Roman stood on the steps of her family’s home, dripping wet, hands balled into fists at his sides and eyes trained on Julia.
“Jesus…” she muttered, flinging the curtains closed again. “No! No, no, no!”
What the hell was he doing here? Was he insane? He knew better than this. Just being here was enough to set her family on edge. If they ever found out the truth about their past relationship, they would likely string him up and watch him flail in the wind.
The only chance she had—the only thing she could do if she wanted to stop this—was to get down there and get him the hell away before anyone else saw him.
She threw on her robe, even though he had seen it all by now, and ran down the stairs.
Thankfully, the common area was empty as she rushed through it and yanked the door open before running onto the porch.
Roman was out in the yard, pacing back and forth in full view of anyone who might think to pass by.
“What the hell are you doing?” Julia asked. “And why are you wet?”
“You’re not the one I want to see,” he said, his jaw set and his teeth ground together in a way that scared the hell out of her.
“Roman, what happened?” She moved off the steps, her heart fluttering wildly.
“You either need to go back inside or leave this place altogether,” he said, gaze averted and hands shaking.
Tension inside of her reached a near boiling point. She needed to know what was going on, and she needed to know now.
“Roman, you know better than this.” She closed the distance between them. “I’m not sure what’s pushed you to think this of all things is a good idea, but you know what this could mean for the treaty. You know what could happen.”
“It’s already happened!” he screamed, his face red and worn.
Julia pulled back. She had seen Roman in just about every possible mood and manner. But this—this raw anger and unbridled rage—this was something new. She didn’t want to even imagine what might be responsible for bringing it out in him.
“They killed him, Julia,” he said through his teeth. “Your fucking family killed my brother!”
Julia’s heart dropped out of her chest. The entire world fell away.
“Adam’s gone?” she murmured. “That’s—that’s not possible, Roman. You’re mistaken somehow. My family would never—” She swallowed hard. “There’s a treaty.”
“Yeah, well, they shit on that treaty, Julia,” he said, his tone darker now, energy crackling around him. “And I’m about to repay the favor.”
Julia gasped. This sort of power—this vulgar display of ability—would mean war.
“Roman, don’t do this,” she said, pleading. “My entire family is here. There are probably people from the Louisiana coven here, too. You can’t take all of them on by yourself. It’s a death sentence.” She took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not sure what happened and, if Adam really is dead, there aren’t words for how sorry I am about that. But this isn’t the way, Roman. You can’t face two covens by yourself.”
“Who says I’m by myself?” he asked flatly. His hands spread at his sides. A whiff of burning shot through the air, and a low laying fog settled over the yard. When it lifted, Roman was accompanied by at least a dozen members of the Blackwood coven.
Oh God. This is happening. Right now.
“Please don’t,” Julia whispered. “I’m begging you, Roman. For me, please stop.”
“Get out of my way,” he said, without even a hint of softness in his voice.
“Do as he says, Julia,” Cassandra’s voice sounded from behind her.
Julia spun to find the majority of her coven, as well as a few choice members of the Louisiana sect—Paris included—gathered on the front steps.
Julia froze. There was no way this would end well. Not now that everyone knew what was going on.
“This has been coming for a long time,” Cassandra said, flanked by witches as though she had already taken up the mantle as coven leader.
“I don’t want you. Bring me the old man.” He pointed to the house behind Cass. “I’m cutting off his goddamn head today.”
“The ‘old man’ is taking care of business that’ll ensure your second rate family is driven out of this city forever.” She pursed her lips. “If you want a head, you’re going to have to take mine.”
He centered his focus on her. “As you wish.”
“No!” Julia said, stepping between them.
Why was this happening? Cassandra knew the truth about Roman, and Roman knew that she did. These were the two people Julia cared about most in this world and they were ready to kill each other.
Cassandra tipped her chin, snubbing Roman with a glare. “Your brother’s death is on your head, Blackwood!”
God, Roman was right. Adam was dead, and Cassandra knew about it.
“You broke into our property. You tried to steal our relic. You know the risks involved in that.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “The only regret I have about it is that it took Adam instead of you.”
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Roman growled. “I’m about to give you a chance to fix your mistake.”
Julia felt a hand beside her own. Looking over, she saw him.
Paris was beside her, standing guard as though she was his property. As his promised fiancé, that was in the eyes of some technically true.
“Is this him?” Roman asked, his eyes flickering over to the red head. “Is this your intended?”
Paris stepped in front of her. “Stay away from her.”
“That’s rich.” He snorted, his gaze trained on Paris. “Tell your family to leave here, and mine won’t destroy them, swamp rat.”
“This little lady is about to be my wife,” Paris said unflinchingly. “Her family is my family. And if you’re looking for somebody to intimidate, I’m sorry to inform you that you’re on the wrong piece of land, asshole.”
Paris crackled with energy now, too. Someone was going to die. There was no way around it.
Except maybe one. But neither Paris or Roman were going to like it.
Throwing her free hand to her side, Julia sent a prayer out and hoped for the best.
She had energy. That much was true. But she needed more. With Paris’ hand in her own, she did the only thing she could.
She took his power.
Weeds sprouted from the ground, forming a line that separated the covens from each other. They twisted and stretched into the sky, weaving and knotting together to form a wall.
“Hibiscus root,” Cassandra spit, knowing what it meant.
The wall formed now could be crossed by neither of the covens. Hibiscus was deadly to witches, and barriers made of it could only be broken by the witch who created them.
It was a last ditch effort, and it was a dangerous one.
“This isn’t over!” Roman screamed from behind the wall. “You’ll all burn for what you did to him!”
Julia swallowed hard, tearing up from the hurt on his face. She pulled Paris’ arm over her shoulder, helping to get him toward the porch. She had taken a lot out of him without warning. Hopefully he could forgive her for that.
The look Cassandra shot her as she climbed the steps may as well have been dipped in acid.
“They were outnumbered,” she said, looking to Julia. “We could have ended this today.”
Julia scoffed, moving past her with Paris in tow.
Cass grabbed her arm. “We will talk about this!”
Julia pulled away. “No, we won’t. Because I can promise you, you do not want to hear what I would have to say.”
Julia was going to talk. She knew that much to be true. It just wasn’t going to be with Cassandra.
As April climbed the last stair into the old treehouse, Julia helped pull her the rest of the way inside.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Julia said.
They’d built this together when they were younger and it had stood for all this time, just like their friendship. And, like their friendship, the treehouse stood in secret.
April nodded. “Of course. You act like this wasn’t my favorite place in the whole world or something.”
Julia gave the girl a hug, then held her at arm’s length to give her a look in the eyes. “Did anyone follow you?”
“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “By this time, I should know how to lose a tail, especially when that tail was ordered by my father.”
Julia pressed her lips together and gave a curt nod, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”
“So was I,” she answered. “And I’m sorry about Roman. He’s understandably a mess, but he shouldn’t have come to your house like that.”
“It’s not my house,” Julia said. “It hasn’t been for a long time.”
“How many times have we met like this over the years?” April looked out the small carved hole in the treehouse that served as a window. “Did you ever imagine we would still have to do this when we were grown?”
“This goddamn feud, April. It has to stop.”
“You know the first time I ever heard about the feud?” April turned to Julia. “It was the same day I met you, actually. I told my brother that I had made a new friend, that she was the coolest girl I’d ever met. And then Roman looked at you and told me that you were a Fairweather, and that I wasn’t allowed to have anything to do with you.”
Julia grinned. “Good thing you didn’t listen to him.”
“Good thing for him, too,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “My brother can be stubborn, even when things are going good. But he loves you. You know that, don’t you?”
“April, don’t.”
“I most certainly will,” she shot back. “Because it’s true. He loves you. Whether he admits it or not, he does. I know things look bad now. I have to put my baby brother in the ground, that’s how bad they are. But don’t give up on Roman, and don’t give up on being happy. Something good has to come out of all of this.”
“It’s not in the stars for us, April,” Julia said, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Literally. You’re the one who did our chart, remember?”
“Eh, what did I know then?” April asked, waving her hand. “I was a child. I didn’t know anything. And, even if that was true, I’ve seen the way you feel about each other, and I don’t give a flying fuck what the stars have to say about that.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall of the treehouse. “He’s my brother, Julia. I want him to be happy. And, whether he would ever say this to you or not, there is no happiness for him without you.”
“And what do you want me to do about that?”
“I want you to do the same thing you want to do.” Julia pursed her lips. “Don’t get married. Not unless it’s to him.”
Julia swallowed hard. “I wish it could be that way, April,” she said quietly, looking out at those stars and wondering what they would have to say for themselves now. “More than anything, I wish it could.”
Chapter Ten
Roman had been alone in that supply closet for two hours before anyone came in. Rustling up roots, plants, herbs, and the few dark objects his family had managed to keep safe through the trials and the aftermath of them; it wasn’t necessary. The Blackwoods had people to do that, magical servants who had trained their entire lives for this sort of thing.
But he couldn’t just sit there in that living room with the rest of them. They were talking about everything that happened, blaming the Fairweathers, and making a plan of attack.
He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t be that calm, that focused. His brother was dead. He died helping him. It was Roman’s fault, but he wouldn’t let it end that way.
The Fairweathers would pay for what happened to his brother. They would burn before the next full moon. And nothing would stop it.
Roman froze when the door creaked open. If this was Father, Roman was going to gouge his own eyes out. He could not take one more conversation about the direction of their family now that Adam was gone, about how everything was on Roman’s shoulders now.
“Are you okay?”
April’s voice relaxed Roman’s nerves a fraction.
“No,” he said, going back to collecting items. “And you shouldn’t be, either.”
“I’m not,” she answered, and Roman could hear the tears in her voice. His little sister—she was going through hell. They all were, and it was on him.
He had caused this, and he couldn’t fix it. But he would die and go straight to hell before he gave up without avenging it.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Preparing.” He continued sorting through the items, his back still to his sister. He couldn’t face her. “You should join me.”
“Preparing for what? War?”
“Damn straight,” he said. Finally, he turned to her, feeling the white hot rage as it passed into his face. “And not just any war, April. The war. The one that’s going to end this fucking useless feud once and for all. Those Fairweather fuckers want lightning. I’ll bring lightning and so mu
ch worse. They’ll pray for death by the time I’m finished with them. I’ll end their damn bloodline! I’ll wipe the earth of any trace of them!”
He breathed, finally breathed.
“Roman, stop this,” April answered softly, reaching out to touch his arm. But he flinched away. “You’re not thinking clearly. This is all happening so fast. And those damn gypsies…I think they messed with your head.”
He ground his teeth together. “I am my own man, April.”
“I know you are. You always have been. But this is an extraordinary circumstance. And I think that we need to slow down, maybe consider our options.”
“Our options?” He balked. “You’re fucking joking, I hope? We don’t have any options. There’s only one thing left to do. We end this now.”
“You’re not yourself,” she said. “I don’t blame you. I don’t feel right, either. How could we? But you and I are two completely different things. You’re the heir to this coven, and if you go popping off at the mouth, then the rest of us don’t have any option but to follow. So please, just think.”
“I am thinking,” he shot back, enough hurt passing through his eyes to blind him. “For the first time in my entire life, I can see things the way they are. I thought things could work out, that this feud didn’t have to swallow us up in it, but I was wrong. I was dead wrong. And honestly, April, I can’t see how you’re not agreeing with me.” He shook his head. “They killed him. They killed Adam. He’s dead! Don’t you get that?”
“Of course I get it.” April stepped closer. “Don’t you think this hurts me, too? I remember when he was born, Roman. I remember when they brought him home from the hospital, when he was baptized into the fold.” Tears flooded his little sister’s cheeks, and a sharp pang ripped through Roman’s chest. “I’m dying inside, Roman. I’m dying.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?” Roman asked, steeling himself, even if only outwardly. He watched his sister, the tears streaming down her face. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and tell her things would be okay. But he couldn’t. If he stopped, if he slowed down, if he showed even that little bit of softness, he knew without doubt that it would kill him, too. “You should be here with me. We should be planning our retaliation.”
