In the Dark (Cavaldi Birthright Book 3)

by Brea Viragh

  Aisanna pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t lie. Believe me, I am very good at ferreting out the truth. Everyone lies. It’s about where you are on the scale.”

  “I’m not in the business of lying, generally.”

  Morgan looked up when Elon made his way back into the room holding a tray laden with hand-thrown pottery bowls. Steam rose from each, tantalizing and homey, filling the air with the scents of roasted vegetables and savory beef. Accepting the stew, Morgan drew the smells into his nostrils, his mouth watering. Oh yes, this was exactly what he needed.

  “Thank you, man.”

  Elon smiled and continued to dole out dinner. “My pleasure. Aisanna can tell you, I’m a whiz when it comes to a crock pot.”

  “He’s also a snazzy dresser and a PR maven,” Aisanna continued tiredly.

  “I don’t know how you can sit around with your thumbs twiddling a tune up your asses, waiting for a bowl of fucking stew, while there are things to be done. We need to formulate a plan to attack the Claddium,” Karsia stated.

  “Whoa, the Claddium? Aren’t those the people we’re trying to avoid?”

  She scowled when Elon moved nearer, refusing his offer before smacking the bowl out of his hand and watching it skid across the floor, smeared stew in its wake.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying, Karsia. We’re not planning a full-scale war against the Great Lakes office. They’re our governing body. Making an enemy of them when we’re already fighting against an enormously powerful elemental is insanity. It’s not an option. Orestes and his pals, yes. I will stand with you. The Claddium? Absolutely not.” Astix spooned soup into her mouth and moaned in pleasure.

  Karsia surged to her feet. “Why are you holding back?” she asked, exasperated. “You know who’s responsible. Orestes was the one who orchestrated separating you from the rest of us upon your Awakening.”

  “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Then why are we here like rats in a hole? He has our brother. He attacked our mother. It’s time for us to stop hiding and for everyone to fall in line! This is ridiculous. And get that soup out of my face, Elon, before I shove it somewhere the sun doesn’t shine,” Karsia demanded. Her eyes glinted with demented fervor.

  She stalked the length between two windows, her enhanced gaze falling on night creatures as they rose from their dens.

  “Can you do the thing, Morgan? You know.” Astix gestured with her fingers. “I seem to like her a lot better when she’s knocked out cold.”

  “Do not touch me again.”

  “Trust me, I saw what happened the last few times you got mad,” Morgan told her. He ran his tongue along the rim of his bowl, licking away every delicious drop, uncaring how the others judged him. Steam clouded his glasses and he waited until his vision cleared. “One of which included exploding an entire herd of cattle from the inside out.”

  “Karsia! Cows? Are you serious?” Aisanna then fell silent, waiting to see if her sister would say anything.

  Karsia chuckled. Leaving no doubt that, although ordinary emotions dictated she feel remorse, there was none. “I don’t remember anything about it, so it doesn’t count.”

  “Here, it seems like a good time to break this out.” Elon reached behind him and removed a small bottle of whiskey from the waistband of his pants. “Nothing like booze to smooth an awkward situation.” He passed the bottle first to Aisanna, who removed the cap and swigged a hearty chug without blinking.

  “Martha Stewart is an alcoholic.”

  They wisely kept the bottle out of Karsia’s reach so she couldn’t slap it to the floor.

  Morgan went next, wiping the rim with his sleeve and taking a sip. The first shot went down with the ease of hot liquid silk. If the soup helped untie the knots in his stomach, the whiskey relaxed the ropes and put him over the edge, easing his fatigue while the food assuaged his hunger.

  “I’m gonna go upstairs and get the book.” Aisanna rose, her eyes locked on her youngest sister. “Maybe we can take a peek and find something new. Something I overlooked.”

  Karsia flung herself over the arm of the couch and kicked at a lamp, watching the base teeter back and forth. “Don’t bother. You won’t find anything.”

  “To be fair, you interrupted our night before I had a chance to peruse my resources.” Morgan thought of his notes waiting at home and decided he would have to start immediately to catch up on everything that had happened. “I have a fair amount of research to do.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, we need to use these powers to fight back against the Claddium. For our family! We can’t walk away now when we’re confronted. We need to stop it.” Karsia looked around the room, lifting an eyebrow. “We need to stop it.”

  “You’ll pardon me if I want to speak to Leo first.”

  “The traitor’s spawn?” Karsia barked out.

  Astix leaned forward and slowly got to her feet, maintaining eye contact. “You watch your mouth. He saved your life.”

  “I’ll say whatever I please.”

  “Not when it comes to Leo. Not today.”

  “Let’s stop and take a deep breath.” Morgan grabbed Karsia’s hands and soothed his thumbs along the plane of her knuckles. “I say we go upstairs, get some sleep, and sort the rest out in the morning. It’s been a very long, very trying day.”

  “What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” Karsia asked.

  “Are you going to be safe?” Astix wanted to know.

  Morgan stared at Karsia. “I believe I will.” He helped her rise from the couch and ushered her back toward the staircase. “Good night, everyone. Have pleasant dreams.” He would make damn sure everyone in the house did.

  The others said their respective good nights and watched the two leave.

  “Why do I have a feeling our days are numbered?” Elon supplied in the silence left behind.

  Astix sighed. “Because they are.”

  **

  Karsia reluctantly followed Morgan out of the living room, passing Aisanna when she came back down the stairs. The older girl gave them a passing nod.

  “You could have let me handle it,” Karsia told Morgan, moving slowly down the hall.

  “I know. But we’ve had enough for tonight.”

  Although he knew what she wanted, he understood why it was not a good idea to let her engage. She needed time away from reality, and Morgan was afraid, deeply afraid, that soon he would have no power to help her.

  Karsia felt the tempest coming. Not a literal one, but something big, looming on the horizon and gaining speed. Momentum. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the seed of darkness inside of her rejoiced.

  Once, she would not have been afraid, cowering before destiny. She’d wanted a big life. She’d wanted to live large. But this? This was too big for her. So much easier to bury her head in the sand and pretend it wasn’t her problem. With her meager earth magic trickling through her veins, she could only pretend she was formidable instead of actually being formidable.

  She pursed her lips. “Remember who it is you’re coddling. I’m not a child who needs someone to hold my hand.”

  “Right, of course. I apologize.” He pushed open the door to the guest room and let her enter first, watched her sniff the air as though by simple scent she could guess at traps. “Is this to your liking?”

  “It will do.”

  The guestroom was tidy, with a sturdy four-poster bed taking up the majority of the space. Morgan walked around it, touching the wood, bending closer to examine the craftsmanship of each post. The history drew him; the time someone had taken to individually carve out each swoop and swirl.

  If Elon had taken the initiative to prepare the bed, Aisanna had added her own personal touch to the room. Roses and begonias speared from tall crystal and porcelain vases. They scattered across the room with a sweet scent designed to put them at ease. A carved chifforobe and chest of drawers completed the room, each chosen for their uniqueness. The floor—original
loblolly pine—was left bare.

  Morgan shucked his sweater and stripped down to his undershirt. Karsia watched each movement with the precision of a hawk. He expected comments, lewd or otherwise, and was a little unnerved when she remained silent.

  Grime and dirt clung to the fabric, once-white sleeves dotted with yellow sweat stains. He stared down at the shirt. Didn’t want to think about how he smelled.

  Approaching her on the pads of his feet, Morgan ushered Karsia to the mattress and tucked her into bed like a baby. Giving in to her more tender impulses, she let him. Gentle fingers stroked down the length of her hair until her movement stilled and breathing became normal.

  Once upon a time, when she was a commonplace witch, cuddling with a man was natural and enjoyable. Karsia fought against a wave of bitterness. Back then she would have rejoiced in being held, rejoiced at those strong arms gathering her close and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her back.

  She wished she had met Morgan sooner. Last year, or sometime in the early part of the current one. They could have had a typical romance, with flowers, candies, candlelit dinners, and walks near the lake. He would be good at those things, she thought, those little things to let a woman know how he felt.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do now. She was sinful and he was hopeless. That was all they could ever be.

  If she’d never met Morgan, Karsia would have been content to carry on with her plan. She would have destroyed the Claddium building from the ground up and raised her face to the sky while the debris fell around her. Would have accepted her lot in life and took the city down with her.

  With one last sigh, Karsia closed her eyes and gave herself over to whatever lay in wait in sleep.

  CHAPTER 14

  In her dream the storm was real, battering her with cold, rancorous rain. She stood on the hillside Morgan had once created for her, with the sea a frenzy of furious waves and whitecaps. Overhead, lightning split the clouds and thunder boomed in answer.

  Black water scoured her bare skin. The wind howled in the distance like an animal.

  With a vicious laugh, Karsia danced and urged the wind onward. More lightning, more anger. Power surged in her blood and bestowed her with the ability to do anything she wanted. Anything. Such glory in the strength, in her own confidence and knowledge that whatever she willed, it would come to pass.

  With the new power coursing inside of her, she could easily have the vengeance she sought for the wrongs committed against her family. She may be the embodiment of darkness and discord, but the desire to protect her family couldn’t be bad. Those responsible would be punished. A life for a life, yes?

  This is who we are now. Who we can be together. As long as you accept your destiny.

  “Yes!” Karsia called out her answer without hesitation. “I will!”

  She’d always known there were some who found dalliances with darkness thrilling. At this point, she counted herself among them. Evil was not something to be overcome or fought against. It lived in the heart of every man, woman, and child if they took the time to look.

  Evil cannot be vanquished. There must be a balance. Let you wield the weapon and burn this world and the next to embers.

  “I will let no one stand in my way,” Karsia vowed. There were no rules anymore, none that pertained to her. She welcomed the uncontrollable energy inside of her, twisting itself around her soul and whispering. Whispering.

  A snap of her fingers, and a figure materialized at her feet. She glanced down at him, weather beating him down to the ground. There was no sunlight to glint off his golden strands of hair. Command disappeared from his eyes and he cowered before her. Begging her.

  Please, spare me.

  Karsia reached out her hand and squeezed his throat until she heard a choking gasp. Orestes Voltaire collapsed in front of her. His suffering pleased her.

  No, there would be no mercy. Her sisters weren’t there to offer a voice of reason. Not there to ask her to stop, to be sensible, to remember who she was and what she stood for.

  She would refuse to listen anyway. She knew right from wrong, her moral compass straight and true. With a gleeful cackle, she raised her hand up and felt energy gathering there. She pointed down to Orestes with her lips pursed for a final air kiss.

  Sayonara.

  She was about to mete out final justice when a voice cut through the night.

  “Karsia, wait!” Morgan approached from a cluster of birch trees. “I won’t let her touch you. Not here.” He clapped his palms together.

  At once the sky lightened and storm clouds dissipated. The ghost figure of Orestes melted into the ground and daisies burst up in its place.

  The hillside would no longer do, would no longer help her feel at ease after what she’d seen. Even with his power, Morgan couldn’t save her from herself and the nightmares brought about by her worst fears. His face dropped.

  He had stepped into the voice inside her subconscious with one clear purpose: finding her. What he hadn’t expected was the turmoil of her mind, the presence keeping her hidden from him. Her dark passenger was getting stronger.

  “Morgan?” Karsia hung her head.

  “It’s me, honey. It’s me.” He was thankful he’d reached her in time before those fears took over completely and she experienced something she’d regret.

  “What did I do?”

  “Nothing we can’t move past.”

  “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Karsia asked when he approached. Tears clogged her voice and she held her arms out to him. “I’m losing more and more of myself.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Morgan kept her under his arm. Considered the clean, blank canvas of the dream world. Then wiggled his fingers once more and a beach unrolled from nothing. Powdery white sand cushioned their feet and waves lapped gently at the shore in an unceasing rhythm. Salt tanged the air. He made sure the sun shone brightly while white clouds dappled the horizon. An attempt to dispel any lingering gloom.

  Pitiful, he thought. He should be able to do better for her.

  The beach cove curved in a semi-circle, with low cliffs and an old white lighthouse clinging to the rocks. He drew apple orchards, verdant fields of barley and acres of yellow flowers. Karsia deserved something unsparingly beautiful.

  “It was a bad dream, okay? And everyone has those,” he told her, his tone nonchalant. Hoping she would remember his words when she needed them. “Try to remember it’s not your fault.”

  “How can it not be my fault?” she cried, staring up at him with impossibly large eyes. “I can’t control myself. I should be able to, shouldn’t I?”

  Morgan pulled her into his arms, unbearably pleased when she cuddled close without a death threat. “Not necessarily. Most humans find it difficult to resist the siren’s song of dark deeds on a daily basis. You have it curled inside of you like a parasite, and if my opinion counts for anything, I think you are doing a bang-up job of fighting it. Of fighting her.” He remained utterly calm, in direct opposition to her speeding heart. “You haven’t hurt your family. You haven’t hurt me.”

  Her inhalation was shaky. “Good to know.”

  “You can do more than you think.”

  Her arms banded around him. “There’s only so long one can fight until it’s time to give up the ghost. I am not strong enough to do this anymore.”

  Morgan dotted her face with kisses. “It’s not time to give up. Your sisters are trying to find a way to reverse this. I’m trying to find a way.”

  “I don’t think there is a way to reverse it. We would have found it by now.”

  “There’s always a way. You said Darkness needed a willing soul to take her place, correct?”

  “Yes. But she needed a member of our hereditary line.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that,” Morgan insisted. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. As long as someone is there to fill the void and keep the balance, become the new veil after the eclipse a
nd take up the mantle of responsibility, it doesn’t have to be a Cavaldi. I think she chose your family because it was easier to communicate with you. Easier to intimidate you. It’s just one theory, mind you. I want to do more digging but I’m afraid we don’t have time. Astix wants to make a move now. She’s right.”

  Morgan removed his glasses and rubbed at his face. In the subconscious, he felt the exhaustion beating at him, a bad tenant who refused to vacate the premises. Nothing he could do about that until this blew over. It was his fault, really. He’d signed on without knowing the details. Now he was in it for the long haul.

  Even in his own domain, the burden was there.

  Carefully he sat down on the sand, bringing her with him. For a long moment they simply stared together at the sea, enjoying a peaceful rest. He had a feeling the next few days would require all their energy, so it was wise to snatch any restful moments whenever possible.

  Karsia glanced over at him, then used her fingers to gently massage the skin around his temples. “You’re tired.”

  She kissed his lips, loving the look of him there under the glow of an artificial sun. He looked good in his suit, classy and refined, yet his bare feet in the sand gave a hint he still had a bohemian streak. She flashed a secret smile, knowing he’d made the change for her. He was observant, able to assess the situation and adjust. Her scholar.

  “It’s been a rough few days,” he admitted.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bringing you into this. I would never have thought to call on you if I hadn’t had a dream about some guy attacking me in an alley,” she told him. “It put the idea into my head.”