by P. Jameson
Mason shook his head, frowning. “This can’t be right.”
But no one listened to him. They just kept spouting off their relief until it sounded like a buzzing in Nastia’s ears. Like insects burrowing into her brain, singing a song she wanted to mute but couldn’t.
“Stop,” she said, but they didn’t.
“More babies for the clan wouldn’t hurt my feelings none,” Magic murmured, his face slipping into a grin.
“I can’t believe it,” Mirena gushed, staring at Theron. “You dared me to find the answer, and I did. I did it!”
He smiled down at her, proud. “I knew you could.”
And that was all the buzzing Nastia could take.
“You idiot!” she screeched, bringing all the celebrating to a swift standstill.
Mirena stared at her, jaw hanging.
“Nas,” Adira murmured in her calm tone.
“Don’t Nas me! She’s completely lost her mind. Stupid, stupid girl!”
A low rumble crawled up Theron’s throat, but she paid it no heed. She gripped her stone so hard it was sure to leave imprints on her palm.
“We can’t have a child. There isn’t time. Have you forgotten, sister?” she spat. “Darkness can’t bring forth light. Magei can’t have babies!”
Mirena’s mouth fished open and shut.
“The dark witches can’t procreate?” Doc asked.
“Darkness can’t bring forth light,” Nastia gritted out. “Giving life is a light magic that even the lowest commoners can recognize.”
Doc raised one eyebrow at Nastia’s implication of her stupidity, and then very calmly lifted her middle finger to flip her off.
“Children, in their innocence, have a light of their own,” Adira explained, gesturing to Rhys. “You can see it, can’t you? In his smiles, his eyes as he learns, explores.”
“It makes sense,” Owyn murmured.
“But you aren’t Magei yet,” Mirena argued.
Nastia gave her a withering glare. “I’ve taken in dark power and used its magic to kill. That’s the whole reason for us devising the undead spell in the first place, remember. Because an Anchor won’t work for me. You said that yourself. And now you offer me solutions requiring an Anchor. You’re useless.”
Mirena’s shoulders sank as she realized her mistake. She really was stupid, wasn’t she?
“I think we’ve established the fact that I’m not of the light anymore.”
Her sister stared at her, expression so sad it made Nastia want to lose her stomach at the useless emotion. Pitiful to be so effected by another person’s actions. She’d never be like Mirena again.
“Yes, we have.” Mirena let a tiny smile lift the corner of her mouth as she reached forward to touch Nastia’s arm. “But we won’t give up on you, sister.”
The touch grounded her momentarily. Sister. Her sister. She loved her sisters. The pain throbbing where her heart was proved it. She shouldn’t hurt them. With word or deed. She shouldn’t.
But it felt good. To finally speak freely. To call stupidity stupid. To call weakness weak.
“Yeah?”
Mirena nodded. “Yeah.”
Adira agreed and so did the others. Too many nods to count. They started the buzzing in her head again.
“Yeah? Well…” Nastia gripped the purple rock tighter, her fist shaking with rage. “Maybe you should, because you’re failing anyway. You too,” she hissed at Adira, ignoring when the sister closed her eyes to absorb the words. “And the damn rock you gave me is as useless as you are. Some Sorcera you two have become.”
Nastia spun for the door, knocking Clara out of the way and ignoring the protests from the others.
In the lobby of the lodge, Thames caught up with her, but she shrugged him off. “I need to be alone. Need some air.”
His big body blocked her way to the door and with his finger under her chin he forced her eyes up to his. “We do things together, remember. This is our way. I’ll go with you.”
“No,” she said, unwilling to argue. “I’m getting some air. Without you. I need to think.”
Thames’s brow crinkled tight. He’d had that look more times than she could count this week. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it? The dark power?”
Nastia shrugged, pulling her gaze away. She wanted out of this stifling place. Out under the night sky. The dark sky. The beautiful darkness that she was adapting to.
“Or better,” she clipped. “Depends on how you look at it.”
He shook his head. “You hurt your sisters. They’re trying, Nastia. We all are.”
She knew, yet she was angry about it. Angry that they weren’t doing enough, angry that they were doing so much. Angry, angry, angry all the time.
She was drowning in it.
“Go talk to them,” she said. “Maybe you’ll all do better without me there. I’ll be outside.”
With that, she pushed around him and out the lobby doors into the cool night. She walked past the parking lot with its strung gas lanterns, and let the darkness envelop her. And out here under the cover of the blackness above her… she relaxed. She could breathe again.
Nastia closed her eyes, letting go of everything eating at her. She didn’t have to be affected by her circumstances. She didn’t need to shake and fight. All she needed to do was… accept it. Become what she was destined to be. A facilitator of the great darkness. A Magei of great power.
A tug at her skirt pulled her attention back to her surroundings. Newt scurried up, pausing at her belt as if asking permission.
“Hey there, little guy.”
He continued up to his favorite spot on her shoulder and settled there.
Nastia sighed. What she wouldn’t give to be a lizard right now. Small enough to sneak away without anyone watching. Insignificant enough that she wouldn’t have to battle her instincts.
Once again, the idea of becoming something, anything other than a Sorcera, sounded heavenly. Maybe it was time to give the undead spell a try. Except if it failed, there’d be no do-overs. She’d be dead. Gone.
“Oh, Newt. How much longer can I do this? Pretend I’m still good when I’m not?”
You are good.
Nastia shook her head, the anger coming back full force. Because no, she wasn’t. Not anymore. The only good left inside her, was the pain that reminded her she loved. And how long would it remain?
The clicking in her mind returned, louder than it was in the dining room, and she squeezed her eyes closed in hopes of drowning it out. But instead it grew. Buzzing, murmuring. Tick tick tick.
She pressed her hands to her ears, but the noise only became more.
Whispering. A song she recognized. No tune, no melody. A song of strength. Sweet seductive power. She wanted to count but there were no rocks. Only the one around her neck.
One.
And then she realized she wasn’t alone. Dark forms swirled around her. Humanlike but unsubstantial as smoke, and with no defining features. Wisps. Astrals. They had no name but they were breathtaking.
They made her stronger. Better.
They liberated her. Gave her the freedom to be what she needed to be.
Like they had that night weeks ago when she’d used them to strike down the werecat.
“Yes,” she murmured, “yes.”
These were hers. One, two, three, four, five…
Just then, the doors to the lodge burst open and Thames ran out. Her smile was instant. This was the way to be free, and she couldn’t wait to tell him.
But before she did, people started pouring out the doors behind him. People she didn’t recognize. An army of people. Male and female, they surrounded Thames, and felt like a threat even though they didn’t attack.
Not yet.
And she wouldn’t let them.
Enemy, her mind declared. The darkness had come for her. And her love, the one good part of her that remained, was surrounded. In danger. Thames was in danger.
“Nastia,” he said, reaching his hand
forward. Reaching out for her. “Help me.”
The pain streaked through her middle again, hot and violent. Love. She’d never let him be hurt. She’d save him. Use her new power to do so. And if that meant she was dark, so be it. Saving the one you loved by any means necessary couldn’t equal evil. It couldn’t. Because if it did, she wanted no part of being righteous.
The army said nothing, only glared their hatred at her as they inched closer to Thames.
“Nastia, please,” he begged. “Help me. Do it now.”
Thames was love. Her chest hurt.
If this was to be her last stand, if it was her time to transition, she’d go out with one final act of love. She’d save him and be condemned. Nothing could be more worthy in her eyes.
“Okay,” she breathed, nodding and realizing tears streaked her cheeks. Newt squeaked nervously from his place on her shoulder. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
Everything happened very fast.
One of the enemy lunged for Thames.
Nastia raised her hands to the sky, pulling power from the darkness above. Inky and thick, it filled her until she vibrated with it.
With an uttered curse, she brought her arms down and aimed for the enemy. Fingers curled with the force of the magic she held in her palm.
But just as she was about to release it, her vision flickered, shifting the scene into something else entirely.
Her purple heart stone clattered to the ground, changing everything.
But also changing nothing.
Because it was too late for her to stop. She tried to rein the darkness in, tried to stop the path of her magic, but it was too late. Energy shot from her hand in a sparkling arc she couldn’t control while the dark figures surrounding her swirled on.
A breath, a mere second, would have made all the difference. But now it was too late.
It was too late.
Chapter Twelve
Thames watched his mate walk out the door, hardly able to believe how she’d treated her sisters. He’d put a lot of hope in these tomes she’d collected over the years, needing to believe there was a way to keep her from what she was becoming, but it was clear they were running out of time.
Nastia was turning into something he didn’t recognize. Something his bear didn’t recognize, and that was scary as hell. Losing his bond with her would crush him, but it would also leave her floundering.
Won’t let that happen, his animal growled.
Straightening, he locked away all his feelings of fear and let his bear come close. This was his mate that needed saving, and Anchor or not, he was going to save her.
He strode back to the dining room where the clan and the Sorcera were a flurry of words and confusion.
“Where is she?” Adira asked when she spotted him.
“Taking a breather.”
“Good,” Theron snapped. “She needs one.”
His gaze went to Mirena and Thames spotted that protective glint in his brother’s eye. Theo hadn’t liked the way Nastia talked to Mirena. No one did.
“She’s hurting,” Magic said. “Struggling with something none of us understand, and terrified of making a wrong move.”
“It’s more than that,” Mason murmured, his shoulders shrugging like bugs were crawling up his spine. “Destiny says we’re missing something. Something big.”
“Anything else to go on there, Des?” Owyn called out as if she was right there in the room.
“Trust me,” Mason grumbled. “She’s just as puzzled as we are, but perhaps slightly less patient.” He grimaced, but didn’t say anything else.
Adira spoke up. “I think it’s time.”
“For what,” Thames asked.
She didn’t look at him though. Instead she eyed Mirena. “For the undead spell. We need to cast it before she’s unable to lend us her power.”
“Unable or unwilling?” Renner asked.
“They’re one in the same.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Bailey argued.
“This is dangerous. The way she acted tonight. She was staring murderously at your alpha for ten straight minutes. I can’t predict what she’ll do or how she’ll react to any given situation. We need to move now before she does something we’ll all regret.”
Thames couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t imagine watching Nastia breathe her last breath, on a hope that some spell could revive her.
“It’s what she would want,” Mirena said quietly. “The real Nastia. The one who’d never dream of saying such hurtful things. She was as brave as she was smart, and would do this if there was even a hint of a chance it’d work. She would.”
He knew Mirena was right. His female wouldn’t bat an eye at chancing this spell. She’d more or less told him so during their picnic. But it didn’t make it any easier for his bear to accept.
“Wait a minute…” Mirena frowned, her gaze flying to Thames. “What is this stone she spoke of? ‘The rock you gave me is as useless as you are.’ What does that mean?”
Thames shrugged, confused. “The purple heart stone you and Adira left on the bed. She figured you’d enchanted it to help her resist the darkness.”
“What bed?” Adira asked.
Thames looked back and forth between the two witches. “Our bed. In the cave.”
She stared at Mirena and the two shared an odd look. “We never left our sister a rock.”
“Of course you did.” Thames gave a nervous laugh. “That first day after everyone was finished working. You came and made our bed, and left the geode sitting right there on top of the blankets.”
“Thames, hear me,” Adira barked. It was the most aggressive he’d ever seen her. “We never came back to the cave that night. We never left an enchanted rock. Certainly never a crystal.”
He heard, but he couldn’t understand.
“Shit,” Mason muttered. “What is it, what is it…” He seemed to be having his own conversation. Or maybe he was trying to make sense of this like Thames was.
Thames hooked his hands on his hips, staring between the two women. “Wha… who… Well, then how did our bed get made?”
Adira scanned the room, but nobody fessed up to it.
“Who made our bed?” Thames growled.
His demand was met with shaking of heads.
The two Sorcera locked eyes once again and Mirena whispered, “Familiar.”
“An animal?” he asked, incredulous. “You think an animal came in there and folded the sheets on our bed?”
“They can take form,” Adira said. “If their witch allows it.”
“Form? Like… human form?”
“Yes. But they can’t maintain it long. A couple minutes at most. And they’re much less corporal than you or I. They appear almost as a specter.”
“Aw, shit on a cracker,” Theron spat, crossing his arms.
Thames shot his brother a glare.
“If the Magei noticed Nastia was close to a power transfer, they might’ve sent their agents to help coax her along.”
Their agents. Their familiars.
“With a rock?” Theron asked.
Mirena nodded. “A dark object. A talisman used to create dark spells. In this case, a crystal. They would have bespelled it with blood magic most likely, so we couldn’t detect it.”
Adira fluttered a hand to her cheek. “It would have simply felt like Nastia. No darkness to be detected until now. It’s how we missed it. And the barrier I put on the cave wouldn’t have kept them out because it was only meant to keep Nastia in.”
Thames’s mind went ninety to nothing trying to put the pieces together so he could get a clear picture. Familiars, the stone, the way Nastia freaked out when it went missing.
When it went missing.
“The beetles,” he hissed.
The beetles he’d killed that night must have been familiars.
Find mate.
Thames turned, charging for the exit. Nastia was in trouble. He could feel it in their bond. He only wished he’d reali
zed earlier.
Should have been more vigilant. Should have been more careful. Should have never left her side. Should have listened when she’d suggested the vampire spell.
He pushed his failures aside and skidded through the lobby, bursting through the front entrance to find his worst nightmares coming true.
Nastia stood just past the parking lot, steeped in a pool of shadow. But as Thames moved closer, he could see it wasn’t just a shadow. A swarm of black beetles piled around her feet, buzzing and writhing. They spilled out over the ground and clung halfway up her skirt, yet she seemed oblivious to them.
She smiled, bright and wide, like she did that first day when he’d said yes to keeping Newt. It was so sweet and honest, his steps staggered and his breath hitched. His female, as she should look. Happy. Carefree.
Free, he realized. That was why she smiled like that. He could feel the deliverance flowing through their bond. His mate thought she was going to be alright, but she was far from it.
A shadow clung to her. It was visible even in the soft glow from the lanterns. Not a natural shadow but something that had form. And from around her neck the amethyst geode glowed. The muted rays shone through the outer surface of the stone, looking like dark lava peeking through the crust of the earth. It reminded him of what a demon’s eye might look like, or old paintings of dragons.
His bear bristled at the evil coming from it, pawing at Thames to do something.
Thames felt the clan gathering around him, but didn’t dare take his eyes off his mate. He could help her, he knew he could. He just had to get her away from the horde.
“Nastia,” he said, reaching for her. “Come to me.”
Her smile faded as she took in the others. She blinked, and tears spilled down her cheeks. He stiffened not sure if she was in pain. His bear wanted to charge in, toss her over his shoulder, and run, but some other part of him knew that was the wrong way to go.
The tension was tangible in the air, each of the clan inching forward, poised and ready to fight whatever that shadow was. And those damned familiars.
