by Abigail Owen
“Stay with me?”
She screwed up her face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He held up a hand, oath style. “Just sleep. I swear.”
No way was she denying herself the luxury, or the precious memory, of sleeping in his arms. “Okay.”
Leaving their clothes on, they lay down, wrapped up in each other.
“Sleep,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
To her utter surprise, she did, doing her best not to think about tomorrow.
CHAPTER 19
The horrid sensation of passing into the realm of the dead was worth it. Back in that muted world sooner than she would’ve liked—hell, she never liked coming here—Rowan set herself up on a constant patrol of the house and grounds. For three days and three nights, she’d prowled, waiting for any sign her efforts to divert the trouble headed this way had failed.
The good news about being a ghost was she needed no sleep. No food. Tanya had never quite explained what happened to her physical body while she went all haunted. She’d be exhausted when she came out of it again, that much was clear. With each passing day, her form on this plane got lighter, less attached to her physical body if she had to hazard a guess. She could only wait one more day before pulling out of this spell.
“You’re here to help my grandson, I assume?”
The voice, barely above a harsh whisper in the silence that reigned in this place, still had Rowan spinning around in search of the source. Her movement too quick, it took her hovering, translucent form a moment to catch up, swirling through the air in the strangest of ways.
The pale version of an old woman stood in the corner of the family room, close to the fireplace.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Esther Masters. Greyson’s grandmother on his father’s side. You may call me Essie. You don’t have to tell me who you are, Rowan McAuliffe. I know everything.”
What exactly did everything cover? “Do you stand there often?” Rowan asked, thinking back to those times a shiver had slipped over her skin in that spot.
Essie—dressed surprisingly casually in trousers and a pale blouse, her short grey hair fluffed out in a halo around her head—gave a gleeful smile. “I do like making my presence felt.”
“You certainly achieved that.”
They shared a smile of mutual amusement.
Getting no negative vibe from Grey’s grandma, Rowan relaxed slightly. “To answer your question, yes. I’m here to…check on…Grey and the girls.”
Essie stared at her a long, disconcerting moment. “You mean you’re here to protect them from werewolves.”
If Rowan had been attached to her body, she would’ve stumbled back in shock. Even so, her form shuddered, reverberating in a manner which caused a lance of pain through her head. How was that possible? More importantly… “How did you know?”
Essie smirked. “The animals aren’t the only ones who pass on gossip. Ghosts are worse than men in a locker room, given they’ve nothing better to do than watch the living.”
Rowan had no idea where to go first with her questions. “Why not pass on then?”
Another eerie stare from once-blue eyes, now strangely pale in Essie’s face, made Rowan want to shuffle her feet like a truant school girl. “I’ve been waiting for something…important.”
“Like what?”
“None of your business. You’re not the only one with secrets to keep.”
What reply could she give to that? “Fair enough.”
Grey chose that moment to enter the room. He held his cellphone to his ear, and, judging by his dark scowl, was not a happy guy. “Where is she, Delilah? I want to speak to her.”
Delilah’s reply came across too softly to catch the words, but Grey’s glower deepened. “That’s not good enough.”
He paused, listening. Then he ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “You don’t understand. You need to get her back here.”
He blew out a long breath as he rubbed at his chest, then turned and headed back to his office.
“Because I love her, dammit. That’s why.” The words floated back to Rowan down the hallway.
Had he just—?
Did he really say—?
Rowan’s heart screeched to a halt before kick starting back into a stuttering rhythm. She turned to Essie who still hovered in the corner. “Did…did you hear that?”
The old woman rolled her eyes. “You’re both hopeless. But that’s not what you need to worry about right now.”
Only one other thing could be more important. “The werewolves are still coming?”
“They’re not coming.”
Rowan practically floated to the roof with relief.
“They’re here.” Essie pointed out the window.
Light flared outside, illuminating the dark, an instant before a series of explosions from outside boomed, splitting the silence with a crash of sound. The windows shattered, glass flying everywhere. The reverberations slammed through Rowan like shockwaves, even in the ethereal realm. Immediately, heavy black smoke poured into the room.
Upstairs, one of the girls screamed.
****
Grey shook his head as his ears rang following the blast. His lungs screamed in protest at the heavy smoke, his eyes watering. His house was under attack.
The wards would hold off whatever was out there, but not indefinitely.
I have to get the girls to the panic room.
He’d save his magic for when he absolutely needed it. Most likely multiple assailants were involved, and the possibility of their being magical was high. He needed to save his energy. Even small spells would reduce his ability to fight, weaken him, and leave him vulnerable.
He sprinted through the house and up the stairs, shouting as he ran. “Girls!”
Immediately, doors were thrown back, and he sucked in a big breath of relief as all three appeared.
“Dad! What’s happening?” Atleigh cried.
“Get them out of here, Grey.” Rowan’s voice echoed in the hallway, bouncing off the walls and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Rowan?” Lachlyn asked, glancing around.
So he wasn’t the only one who’d heard her.
Suddenly, the ghostly image of the woman he loved materialized before his eyes. See-through in greys and whites, her long hair floated around her head almost as if like she were under water.
What. The. Hell? “Rowan?”
She grimaced. “There’s not time to argue or explain. The werewolves attacking are after me, not you. Get the girls to safety. I’ll do what I can to hold off the wolves.”
Before he could stop her, she disappeared.
“Daddy?” Chloe’s trembling voice pulled him back to the most important task.
“Downstairs to the panic room. Move.”
Another round of explosions rocked the house as they hurried down the stairs. He had to grab Atleigh, as the shaking had her tumbling down.
With more haste than calm, he ran them to the kitchen, down Rowan’s stairs, to the door hidden on the wall opposite the windows. With a whispered word, the door appeared. He quickly punched in a series of numbers, and, with a thunk, the bolt slid back and the door swung open.
“Get inside and don’t come out until I tell you to or someone you know comes for you.”
“What? You’re leaving us?” Lachlyn screeched, even as she followed her sisters inside.
The three most precious faces in the world peered out at him, fear dilating their pupils, their bodies visibly trembling.
“The wards will only withstand so much, but a magical alarm was automatically triggered. Help is coming.” Fast enough, he hoped. The problem with teleporting was it could be intercepted by magical means. He had no idea if the werewolves had another mage helping them, but he couldn’t risk teleporting out. And the witches and warlocks coming to help would have to teleport somewhere a decent distance away and cover t
he rest of the distance on foot.
“I have to hold them off until then. And if Rowan is out there…”
“Go, Dad,” Atleigh said. “Don’t let them kill her.”
A swell of pure love kicked him in the gut. With a muffled exclamation, he leaned in and gave each of his daughters a kiss. “Even if they get by me and get into the house, they shouldn’t be able to get into this room. Even then, your mother’s kiss of protection will keep you safe.”
Gods above and below, torn didn’t begin to describe his emotional state. But leaving his daughters safe in the magical room built into the solid granite of the mountain while he went to keep the attackers out was his only choice.
“I love you. Always.”
With that, he whispered the words which shut and locked the door and hid it from sight.
****
Rowan’s only thoughts involved keeping the werewolves from getting into the house. The problem was, she had to remain a ghost or risk the werewolves’ controlling her and using her to get past Greyson’s wards and into the house. With a thought, pure will creating action, she forced her form to disappear and reappear outside.
Remaining unseen, she took stock of the situation. Three wolves—massive in their animal forms, one grey and two red—stood facing the back of the house. Catching glints here and there, she could tell more remained concealed by the trees beyond. Knowing how this attack was going from the inside, she’d guess more still surrounded the house from all four sides to ensure no one got out easily.
Okay. Time for distract and disturb. Rowan had no idea if what she was about to try would even work. But people saw ghosts all the time, right?
Thinking solid thoughts, she willed her ghostly form to materialize to their attackers. The act required a huge amount of concentration and the unpleasant sensation akin to being under water after the air in her lungs ran out. Finally, she thought she’d achieved it, based on what she could see of her more solid-looking form.
“I’m here,” she called. “I’m the one you want.”
The three wolves close to her turned with a snarl. Guess it worked.
One of the red wolves leapt at her, and she allowed her form to disappear. Not hard. Holding herself as a visible entity had taken effort. Her body wanted to be invisible, to no longer exist.
The werewolf flew through the air and slammed into the pine tree behind where she’d appeared. The tree, on the skinnier side, cracked and split with the impact and pine needles rained down like dry water as the upper half fell to the ground with a crash of limbs, pinning the wolf beneath it.
His companions didn’t bother to check in him. Instead they let out twin howls, which Rowan, as an Aneval, easily translated into, “She’s here. Bring reinforcements.”
A midnight black female wolf sprinted from around the side of the house, followed by three others. The wolves inside the tree line remained where they were as far as Rowan could tell. As the female neared, the big grey wolf suddenly shifted. Many wolves panted or grunted at the pain of their bones realigning into a new form, but not this guy. Instead, he clenched his jaw and bore the transition in silence until, before her stood a man with grey at the temples and a nasty scar running across his face.
“She is here, mistress.” He addressed the black female wolf, slightly smaller in form than most of the others.
She must be Kaios’s lover.
The red wolf with him—the one still standing, at least—growled, and scarface grimaced.
“That is, there’s a ghost which looks a bit like the McAuliffe witch.”
The hackles raised on the black wolf’s back and she bared her teeth in a silent display of displeasure.
Before she could hear more, the sensation of ice being wrapped around her neck invaded her form an instant before she was yanked back into the house.
Rowan took a second to shake off the splinters of cold remaining inside her, even as she wondered what the hell had just happened to her.
Essie, likely tired of waiting for her to reorient, shoved her face in front of Rowan’s. “Grey is outside.”
“What?” Rowan tried to whip her head around, though her floating form took a second to keep up. Still, he was nowhere in sight. “Where?”
“Out front. He’s protecting the girls…And you.”
Fear shot through Rowan like a bolt of electricity. “Is he crazy?”
Before she could do more, another howl went up outside followed by a low rumbling she took a second to identify as a growl. From all the wolves. If she’d been in her corporeal form, the hairs on her arms would’ve stood up at the terrifying sound.
A blinding flash of blue lightning split the night sky, preceding a slam of thunder so deafening it seemed to shake the entire mountainside.
Grey.
The cacophony of fighting reached her in an odd reverberation of sound, like hearing the noise through a tunnel.
“Follow me,” Essie said.
Rowan floated after Grey’s grandmother to the windows showing the back yard. “They’re in the woods now. I can go no further. My spirit is tied to this house. You must help him. Protect him.”
Already, her life force ebbed away, leaving her numb and oddly untethered, as though she had no reality, no anchor. If she did much more, she risked becoming a permanent ghostly resident of the Masters’ household. If she returned to her solid form, she risked being controlled and used against Grey. Besides, her magic often didn’t work against werewolves. But nothing could’ve stopped her. Without a word to Essie, Rowan closed her eyes and pictured herself in the woods, near where the girls always did their predictions.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by pine trees and granite boulders, facing a battle of one against many.
She froze at the vision of Grey doing what he did as he fought the wolves. Even through her terror for his life, Rowan was still mesmerized by the powerful display.
Three wolves already lay on the ground, one body still aflame. The grey wolf ran at Grey full tilt. His face a study of fierce concentration, Grey whispered a single word, and another bolt of blue lightning shot from his hands and slammed through the wolf. The creature howled in pain before the lightning disappeared and it collapsed to the ground, tendrils of smoke rising from its body.
Rowan didn’t have time to watch more as she caught sight of the black wolf. Kaios’s lover had snuck around behind Grey, using the trees and her coloring as cover, but Rowan could see the green glow of her eyes in the radiance Grey’s lightning had briefly cast in the small clearing.
Grey, busy with another two wolves, one of which went flying through the trees at his whispered word, didn’t see the she-wolf behind him. Rowan couldn’t yell out to warn him, or the wolf he faced would attack. But she didn’t have enough magic left to stop the black wolf.
At that moment, a tiny hummingbird came darting out of the trees. It hovered in front of Rowan. “We’re here.”
Before she could ask, animals of all kinds—elk, deer, mountain lions, even chipmunks and birds—flocked into the clearing, going after all the wolves.
“What the—” Grey lowered his hands. But his back was still turned to the black wolf.
The wolf gathered herself, muscles bunching, to leap. With a snarl, she hurtled through the air. Grey swung around to face his attacker, but, at the same time, a terrifying roar erupted from the forest, and the massive grizzly bear burst out into the clearing. He slammed into the black wolf mid-air. Coming down on top of her, he clamped his massive jaws around her head. With a twist and a sickening crunch, he snapped her neck.
Those werewolves still alive, seeing their leader’s lifeless form and the forces gathered against them, took off through the woods, Rowan’s defenders in pursuit.
Rowan let out a whoop of relief. “Grey,” she turned toward him, then sucked in a breath.
Three streaks of red crossed the white of his shirt, growing larger with every passing moment. Apparently, the she-wolf had struck her mark
before the bear had intercepted her. With a cough that brought blood bubbling up out of his mouth, Grey dropped to his knees before falling over to lie on his back, legs jacked up awkwardly beneath him.
“No,” the word tore out of her.
In a blink, Rowan was at his side. She closed her eyes, reaching for her body, willing herself back into the realm of the living, but nothing happened. She didn’t have enough energy left to get herself out of the ghostly realm.
Grey was dying before her eyes, and she could do nothing but watch as she herself let go of life. Another gurgle of blood spilled out of his mouth as he choked on the liquid filling his lung, and a new determination surged through her. She was lost, but maybe she had enough left in her to save him. Acting on pure instinct, Rowan held her hands over his chest and pulled from the magic deep inside her the energy produced by her very soul.
A whispered word, and her hands, even in this muted realm between life and death, began to glow—softly at first, then brighter until the light was almost blinding. Then, just as slowly, the light faded away. Under her hands, Grey’s chest no longer bore the marks of death. Blood no longer pooled under his body.
“Rowan?” His deep voice brought her gaze to his face. Miraculously, he seemed to be looking directly at her. “How is this possible?” he asked. He shook his head, eyes dazed. “What are you?”
Rowan gave him a sad smile. “I’m—”
Cold in the form of biting pain slid through her bones and took over every inch of her. With a gasp, Rowan held up her hands only to find the shadowy image of her fingers disappearing. Gods, she was vanishing so fast.
“What’s going on?” Panic laced Grey’s voice.
She didn’t have time.
They didn’t have time.
“Greyson Masters…” her voice echoed through the trees around them. She reached for him, but most of her was gone. “I love you.”
CHAPTER 20
“No!” the word burst from inside him.
