She wasn’t surprised to see Jason waiting for her at the end of the hallway, his hand outstretched—it was eleven, after all and they’d need to leave to get up to the McClunes’ lands to help Cordy with the spell to bind Cain. They were just waiting for Bron to finish her preparations.
She took Jason’s hand, the warmth of his touch stealing through her. She still couldn’t believe he was hers as she was his. It seemed so incredible that she’d only known him for seven months—it felt like she’d known him forever. She couldn’t believe she’d fought falling in love with him so hard. It all could have turned out so differently. But it hadn’t because he was a stubborn bastard, an Alpha hell-bent on winning his mate, gaining back his Pack Witch and saving his pack.
Thank God for stubborn bastards. They all needed him and his strength, now more than ever. She shivered.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m just worried about Eloise.’ She leaned into him, rubbed her head against his shoulder. ‘So much is riding on her shoulders.’ She shrugged. ‘I hate the fact she has to do the spell alone.’
‘We’ll leave now. We can be there just after midnight to help Cordy with the spell.’
‘I thought we were waiting for Bron to finish her herbal preparations.’
‘We can go now if it will make you feel better.’
She smiled, stroked his hand. ‘You know me so well.’ She reached up to cup his face, to seek for a deeper kiss when pain gripped her stomach, then tore through her head. She clapped her hands over her ears, falling to her knees, unaware of Jason coming down with her, holding her upright. She could see his mouth moving, the worry in his eyes, but couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t hear anything but the screaming in her head.
‘Shelley,’ she gasped. ‘It’s Shelley. Death comes.’
***
Adam staggered, the scream shoving through his head, tipping the world, spinning it around. His vision darkened as the scream got louder and the pain intensified. Fuck! He was going to pass out again. Pass out and drown in this goddamned dam. What a way to go. He’d never live this down. He began to chuckle, felt the sound of it hiccough in his chest. Hysterical. He was being hysterical. If only he could stop the sound stabbing at him like a thousand ice picks at once.
He managed to lurch forward, towards Shelley. Her face was tipped to the night sky, eyes black holes in her head, face paler than a corpse, her features harsher, pulled up, angled somehow, almost like something else was imprinting itself on her features. He grabbed her, tried to shake her, to shout her name, but there was no sound but the one she made, and no impact from his touch. She was cold. Freezing cold. And shaking. When the scream stopped, he was afraid she would collapse. And if she did, she would drown. He might have laughed at the thought of his own death in the muddy water in this dam, but there was nothing funny about the thought of her dying here.
He had to get her out of the water. But the world was spinning and everything ached. And the screaming went on and on. His wolf howled inside him, wanting to scamper away, to hide, but needing to see to her safety at the same time. It was as torn as he was. ‘Right buddy. Can’t let her drown.’
Somehow he managed to pull her behind him—she was too stiff to lift and sling over his shoulder. He hooked his arms under her armpits and hauled, one painful, jagged step at a time as the screaming went on and on. Somehow, he got them up the bank onto dry grass. Then the earth was smacking against his face, blades of darkened grass obscuring his vision. He tried to move, to see to Shelley, but he couldn’t. The scream. It was too much. It was everything. In every cell. Tearing him apart. And it wouldn’t stop.
His eyes flickered closed and everything became black.
Chapter 24
Eloise guided Iain down as he crumpled to the floor, tears welling in her eyes as she whispered, ‘Please forgive me. I have no choice.’
‘What did you do that for?’
‘You can’t hurt him now,’ she spat out as she cradled Iain’s head in her lap, smoothing his lush dark hair back from his suddenly too-pale face. ‘He won’t stop me now. You promised you wouldn’t hurt him if he didn’t try to stop you. Now go back into the ether. I can’t do the spell if you’re on this plane.’
Cain chuffed out a laugh. ‘Well, I didn’t expect that. Well played, Little Bit. Well played. But you need to hurry. Midnight is almost upon us. You’ve only got forty-five minutes to do the preparation spells.’
‘I know. I’ll get it done.’
‘Good. I’ll see you in the ether.’ He disappeared.
Eloise barely registered his departure. Her mind echoed with his words and what she’d done to deserve them. What she’d done to Iain didn’t feel well played. It felt like a betrayal. Her fingers trembled over Iain’s face. He had become so dear to her in such a small amount of time. She loved him. He was all she had ever wanted without even knowing she wanted it. The thought that he would never know that was a gaping hole in her chest. She supposed that’s what happened when your chest was ripped open and your heart torn out. She hadn’t meant to give it to this Were, but she had. And now she was doing the one thing that would guarantee she would never be forgiven—not by him, and not by the others she had come to feel deep friendship for. River. Bron. Skye and Jason. Would they understand, or would they feel betrayed too?
Not that she would even be around to know how they felt—she’d be a withered husk before they even knew what she’d done. Would they think she’d died to help her brother? She hoped not, but there was nothing she could do to change anything now. It was too late. She just had to go forward from here and do what she knew was right. This was the only way she could save them from the person she’d become if Cain and Morrigan had their way.
Leaning forward, she pressed trembling lips to Iain’s, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I wish I could stay and prove your trust in me, but I can’t. I have to do this. I don’t expect you to understand, but this is the only way I have of saving you.’ She kissed his eyelids, his nose, his cheekbones, the dimple in his chin and then back to his lips, her fingers clenched in the cool silk of his hair. She didn’t want to let go, but she had to. ‘Please forgive me.’
Teeth gritted with the sheer effort it took to do what she must, she unwound her fingers from his hair, and lying his head back gently on the floor, she stood and turned away, unable to bear seeing him laid out on the concrete floor, vulnerable, his strength and force of will sheered away by the necessity of sacrificing herself to her brother. To save them all.
The first thing she had to do was stop the others from coming in. They’d have felt what she had done to Iain. They’d be down here soon, despite her warning about Cain’s threat to kill them if they came inside the room. They’d want to know what she’d done. Why. She couldn’t let them anywhere near her.
She stared down at the keypad. That first. Pulling off the faceplate, she grabbed the wires below and pulled. Sparks shot from the wires and she gasped as little jolts of electricity shot up her arm. Ignoring the small burns—she’d had far worse injuries while working for Morrigan—she looked around for something else to help finish the job. The Were nurse had left a bottle of water on the desk. She threw the water at the panel. The wires hissed and smoked as they shorted. She stared at it, her gaze going to the streaks of water that darkened the light grey of the wall and the puddle forming on the floor. For a moment, she thought she saw green eyes flash in the puddle, but when she leaned forward and looked straight at it, there was nothing there but the reflection of the darker ceiling and the light above her head.
She dragged the heavy chair the nurse used over to the door and pushed it up under the handle for good measure.
Satisfied the chair and the damaged keypad would give her enough time to finish what she’d come here to do, she walked over to the stainless steel bench on the right wall. Cabinets and drawers were full of medicines and medical implements. Fingers trembling, she searched for what s
he needed. Finding it, she tore through the packet to the sterilised implement within. The metal was warm in her cold hands. Turning, she made her way back to the curtained alcove, her foot dragging on the floor, increasing the cold burning sensation that had been building there ever since she’d woken from the coma. Before today that pain would have made her wince and falter, but even though she felt it, it didn’t touch her like it normally would. A strange numbness had settled over her—she wondered if she would even feel it when she slashed her wrists open for the spell.
The hiss of the curtain as she pulled it back was a taunting whisper. Cain lay as still as before, but a dark expectation tinged the air, making her shudder and move slowly forward, as if she walked against an ocean current. As she looked down at her brother, water splashed on his shoulder. She raised her head to see where the leak was coming from and realised it wasn’t water. It was a tear.
Her eyes blurred. She blinked rapidly, trying to steel her composure as the oppressive darkness pushed in tighter around her.
This was it. She had to do it now or face the consequences of her weakness. She put the knife down on the bed and, hands raised over Cain’s chest, began the incantation that would prepare them both for what was to come.
***
Adam moaned, coming to slowly. Grass tickled his nose. Something wet ran down the side of his face. What the hell? Where was he? What had happened?
He remembered. The sound. Oh god! That horrible scream. It had shattered through him, vibrating in his bones, his nerves, right down to his DNA. It was a noise a human voicebox shouldn’t be able to make and yet, Shelley had made it. And it had gone on and on until he’d passed out.
Fuck! He’d passed out. For how long? He tried to move, but the high-pitched ringing in his ears got higher, hurt. He moaned. Vomited. The dry retch of his heaving was a low vibration against the high-pitched ringing. But at least it wasn’t the scream.
The scream. It had stopped. Shelley. Where was Shelley?
He tried to push himself upright, but his arms were shaking too hard and he felt like he was going to vomit again. So he rolled over instead, onto his back, the movement careful, and gulped in fresh breaths. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow on the grass beside him. He turned his head.
Shelley still lay where he’d dragged her, mouth open on a silent scream, eyes blacker than the night above. ‘Shelley!’ His voice was dry, sandpaper over gravel. He rolled over, swallowed hard and tried again. ‘Shelley! Kitten?’ His voice was louder, but she didn’t respond. He reached out, the movement shaky, but managed to grip her shoulder, shake her. Nothing. He made himself sit up. The world spun again and pain sliced through his head. He clutched it, feeling the need to hold it where it was, as if it was about to fly off or tear apart. Something warm and wet dripped from his nose, the corner of his eyes, his ears. Salt and copper. Blood.
Shouting sounded in the distance. The shouting brought his head up again. Shelley still hadn’t moved. ‘Shelley. Kitten.’ Still no response. All right, maybe using her real name, a name he knew she hated, might get a result. ‘Michelline?’ He dragged himself closer, touched her face. She was cold. Ice cold. Deathly cold. ‘Michelline!’ Fear gave him strength and he hauled her into his arms. ‘Don’t leave me, Michelline. Do you hear me? Don’t leave me.’
There was a moan and then a faint, ‘Don’t call me that. I hate that more than I hate Kitten.’
Her breath brushed against his cheek. He barked out a laugh, a note of hysterical relief, and buried his face in her hair. ‘Thank the Moon. You’re okay. You’re okay.’
‘You’re crushing me,’ she wheezed.
Another huff of laughter and then he pulled back, but didn’t let go, holding her, touching her, cupping her face. He brushed her damp hair from too-pale skin. ‘Even near death you’ve still got to tell me off.’
Her lips twitched as she looked up at him, as if she was about to smile, and then her eyes flared and she snapped upright with a gasp, pulling out of his arms. Her eyes roamed wildly over the landscape blindly before landing on him. ‘You’re bleeding.’ She grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifting it, began to wipe away the blood. ‘I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop it. It just kept coming and coming.’ Her voice hitched and she blinked rapidly as if fighting tears. ‘It ripped at my insides, and I couldn’t stop it.’
‘What did?’
‘Someone’s about to die. Eloise!’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘It’s Eloise.’
Adam staggered to his knees, then to his feet and lunged forward, grabbing her before she managed to get more than a few wobbly steps up the embankment. ‘Eloise? What are you talking about?’
‘I saw her. It was there in the scream. She’s about to give up her life to bring Cain back. To save us all from him.’
‘That’s what you saw?’
‘Yes.’ She looked up at him, horror making her eyes huge. ‘But that’s not all. I felt what was to come. If she dies, her death will lead to war between us and the coven.’
‘We’re already at war with them.’
‘No. This will be worse. The humans will be brought into it and they won’t respond well to the knowledge of us all living in their midst. So many deaths. So much destruction. Everything that’s been built will be gone.’
‘We have to stop her.’
‘Yes.’ They surged forward as one, staggering together, holding each other up, pushing each other on. As they moved, it got easier, the horizon stayed where it was supposed to, but they were still shaking and breathless, as if they’d run a major marathon by the time they’d made it the hundred metres or so back to the house. As they rounded the side, moving towards the kitchen entrance, Cordy and Marcus came spilling out of it.
‘Shelley, was that you?’ Cordy grasped her arms, steadying her.
Shelley nodded, noticing the blood running from Marcus’ ears. Had she done that? ‘If you mean the scream, yes.’
Cordy’s mouth turned grim. ‘That wasn’t a scream. That was a banshee wail.’
‘I thought banshees were a myth.’
‘That wasn’t a myth that knocked everyone out,’ Cordy said. ‘The rest are still coming around.’ She wrung her hands together, leaning into Marcus as he came up behind her. ‘Something terrible is coming.’
‘Death,’ Adam said, wiping the blood still dripping from his nose. ‘Shelley said death.’
Shelley sucked in a breath, her chest burning. ‘Eloise. Oh God. How long have we been out?’
‘Not long. Half an hour maybe.’
‘Fuck.’ She looked up at the full moon overhead. It was huge and a ghastly blood red. It was almost midnight. ‘I’m afraid it’s already too late.’ Her lips trembled. ‘She’s already begun. We’ll never get there in time to stop her.’
‘We need to call Jason and Skye. And Bron and River. Tell them what’s happened.’ Marcus’ voice was a low growl.
‘They’ll already know. They couldn’t have missed that,’ Cordy said.
Shelley turned and stumbled towards the drive where the SUV they’d arrived in a few hours earlier was parked.
‘Where are you going?’ Marcus asked.
‘I know she said we had to stay away because Cain will hurt us, but he’ll hurt us more if we don’t. We’ll need as many powerful witches and Weres here ASAP to help. And we need to get down there now,’ Shelley said, shaking so hard she needed Adam’s arm around her to help her into the vehicle.
‘Shelley? Are you okay to go?’
‘We have to hurry,’ she said, dread more than a ball of cold in her chest. It was expanding, rising up to swallow her whole. ‘The others are too far away. They’re going to be too late. But if we move, we might get there in time to avert disaster.’
‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
The world spun as the car started up and she had to close her eyes to shut out the horrible dizziness. Taking in a shaking breath, she nodded. ‘Somebody is going to die tonight. I can feel it.
It can’t be escaped. Someone is going to die.’
‘Not if we can help it.’
Oh God. She wished that was true, but knew whatever had started up in the mines had already gone too far for them to be able to change. It was inevitable. She felt it inside with a part of her she’d only learned existed tonight and wished she could ignore.
But the blood moon was a portent she couldn’t ignore. Death was there. It had already put out its hand and it wasn’t going to let the night fade without having someone in its grip.
***
The preparation spells having been completed, Eloise rolled down the blankets covering Cain. He was wearing a hospital gown. She picked up the scalpel and used it to cut the front of the gown. Gently, she brushed the tattered flaps aside, exposing his chest. Pale and thin, his skin was perfect except for a half-moon scar on his left breast—a mirror to the same scar she bore on her breast. A tie to their heritage, perhaps? She would never know. She traced the silvery scar, the salt of her tears flooding her mouth. ‘Please, try and find who you used to be when you wake. Don’t let Morrigan use you like this.’
She looked upwards. She knew it was useless to plead with the Goddess to help Cain, to make him see how wrong he was and to change his heart. But she could ask one last thing. ‘I know this magic is dark and evil, but please, don’t let my sacrifice be for nothing. Let my power be strong enough to bring him back to his body and then let it die with me.’
Her hair moved and a warm waft of air caressed her face; the delicate scent of summer grass and the golden warmth of orange blossoms tantalised her for a split second and then was gone. Under her fingers, Cain’s skin warmed. Had her plea been heard? She whispered, ‘Thank you’, just in case.
She took a deep breath, trying to hold on to the memory of that wonderful scent. She smoothed her hand over Cain’s chest, lifted the scalpel. She pictured the rune for ‘returning’ in her mind. She had to carve it into Cain’s chest.
Blood bloomed in the scalpel’s wake, the smell thick and coppery. Her stomach roiled but she forced herself to continue until it was done.
Shifter Bound Page 28
