“As if you care.”
“I care about you.”
“This doesn't mean you are anything to me,” she said, staring him straight in the eye.
“My darling, if I welcome you into the Shadow, if I help you gain control over the darkness, I am the center of your world. I will always know where you are, and I can order you to do whatever I please.” He paused, smiled. “Despite what you think of me, I am not a liar. I am telling you flat out what I get in return. Nothing more and nothing less than your soul.” He took a sip of the drink in front of him. “So you need to decide right now: is he worth it?”
“It's not just him. It's his entire family. His father. Any descendants down the line. They would be free.”
“Which is all sweet and noble, and exactly what a Lightwitch would be expected to say. But when it comes right down to it, you're doing it for him. Because you want him, and the thought of losing him that way enrages you.”
She tilted her head. “You're not just a warlock, are you?”
He smiled, a sharp, toothy grin that made her skin crawl. “I am a Shadow lord.”
Sophie remembered mentions of those. Stories, tales of warning from the books on witchcraft she'd read. Shadow lords were rare, and attained their power through causing chaos. They were the essence of everything wrong with the Shadow. They were an antithesis to Light. And she was about to give herself to one of them. “Aren't the Shadow lords just supposed to be spirits?”
“I can take whichever form I like. And this form is capable of sex, which I quite enjoy.”
She chose to ignore that. “Power is a tool. I still believe in the Light.”
He gave a derisive snort. “As if that matters to me. Are we here to talk about you and your worthless faith, or do you want the power you crave so badly?”
“I don't crave power,” she argued, and he laughed.
“If you say so.” He snapped his fingers, and her own voice came back to her:
“I'm tired of everyone underestimating me. I'm tired of everyone seeming to think I'm this weak, stupid little thing who can't handle what life throws at her… But no, Sophie's so fucking weak we need to protect her from every stupid little thing.”
He gave her a derisive look. “You are just as power hungry, lustful, and self-absorbed as any of my children. You want the power? Give your loyalty to me, and you have it.”
“Why don't you just take it, if you're so powerful?” she shot back.
“It doesn't work that way. I get so much more out of the deal if you beg for it. If you want it. So, I'll ask again: is lover boy worth it?”
“He's worth it,” she said, telling herself that she was doing it for all the right reasons, no matter what Marshall said. That she was saving Calder and his line, and if she had to sacrifice herself to do it, she would.
She was a Lightwitch, no matter what else she became.
Marshall smiled. “Give me your wrist.”
She hesitated for a moment, then laid her arm on the table, wrist up, close to him.
“This will hurt. You'll like it, though,” he said, giving her a slimy smile.
Though his hands had looked normal just moments ago, Sophie watched as he used a black claw to draw a ragged line down her arm, from about midway up her lower arm and down to her wrist, over the scars she'd created so long ago. It burned, and the pain was so intense Sophie could barely breathe. Her stomach turned, and she shed silent tears as she told herself over and over again that it was worth it. Blood pooled, looking like a strand of dark rubies reflecting the dim light of the pendant over the table. Marshall raised her arm to his mouth, and she tried not to yank her hand away in disgust when he licked the blood from her. She looked around. No one was paying any attention, as if they were invisible or something.
It burned, and a pained whimper escaped her. She felt dizzy, foggy, nauseous. He groaned in pleasure as he drank from her opened vein. As he did, she began to feel the twisted, cold tendrils of darkness seeping into her soul. As he took from her, he claimed her as his, and she felt the power of Shadow infusing her.
She felt the last tiny glimmers of Light fading inside her, and she closed her eyes, apologized and wept as she felt Shadow eradicating the Light. A deep mourning stuck deep in her soul, alongside the power granted to her by Shadow.
Marshall released her hand, and she opened her eyes, tears spilling down her face.
“You'll want to wrap that up,” Shadow said to her. She glanced down at her arm, which was still pooling blood. She put a napkin over it, held it tight.
“You won't bleed out. You'll likely have a scar, though. It'll match the others,” Shadow said.
“How do I remove his curse?” she asked flatly.
“It is made of Shadow. You are Shadow now. Shadow will always be drawn to Shadow. Draw it out of him.” Shadow looked very pleased with himself, and a wide grin spread across his face. “You're mine now.”
“Never.”
“If you say so, 'kitten,'” Shadow said, getting up. “I hope it was worth it.” He laughed and strolled away, disappearing before he'd even reached the door.
Sophie sat at the table in the stinking, depressing bar for a while after Marshall had strolled away. She sopped her blood up with napkins, gave up and ended up tying the scarf she'd been wearing around her arm to staunch the bleeding.
She could feel it. Slimy, slithering, and vile, deep in her soul. Wrong. Wrong in every single way, and she hated it.
But she could save him from what she'd just seen in his father.
She was doing it for the right reasons. That had to count for something, she hoped.
She finally pulled herself up. She watched as the men at the bar finally seemed to notice her, shrinking away from her as she passed, looking uncomfortable.
Sophie took a deep breath. It would be worth it.
She had one more stop to make before she went home. She checked her messages as she sat in the car, trying to get herself together again. Calder had called, saying he and Jon were going hunting and he'd be home the next morning. “He needs to blow off some steam,” he said, and she listened to his deep, warm voice, closed her eyes. “The old man's getting worse. It's hard on Jon. Anyway. I'll be home tomorrow morning. I love you, kitten.”
She focused herself. He was worth it. And she was worth it. Her soul was her own, no matter what Marshall thought he'd just accomplished.
She nodded, started her car, and turned back onto the highway. She drove through town, then veered toward the woods. Layla had a cute little house close to town, but with enough space around it that she could run as her wolf easily. Sophie glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was late afternoon. She hoped she was home. She'd lose her nerve if she had to try to talk to her later.
She pulled up in front of Layla's house, got out of the car. She walked up the wooden front steps and knocked on the door. Within moments, Layla was there, hair tousled as if she'd been napping.
“Hey,” Layla said, looking surprised. Her gaze flicked over Sophie, and she held the door open. Sophie walked in, stopped short when she saw Bryce, shirtless, standing up from the couch in Layla's cozy, cluttered living room.
“Oh, hey, Bryce,” Sophie said in surprise. She glanced at Layla, who was looking a little red in the face, but had a goofy smile on her face. “Um. I can come back,” she said.
“No, no. You never drop by like this. Stay,” Layla said.
“I'm going to head to the bakery. Donuts,” Bryce said, looking a little flustered. He shared a glance with Layla, pulled on his shirt, and headed out.
“I am so sorry,” Sophie said as Layla closed the door.
“He'll be back,” Layla said with a smile. “You were right, by the way. I asked him out last night and he's been by my side ever since.”
Sophie laughed. “Still. Crappy timing, huh?”
Layla was studying her. “What's going on, Soph?”
Sophie took a deep breath. “You know how you're always getting on me
for never asking for help?”
Layla nodded.
“Okay. Well, I need your help.”
Layla took her hand, led her to the sofa. They both sat, Sophie's hand still in Layla's.
“You're Shadow now, aren't you?” Layla asked before Sophie could say a word. Sophie nodded. “You smell wrong.”
“Calder will be able to tell, then,” Sophie said.
“He'll be able to smell it,” Layla confirmed. “It's kind of a sulfurous, smoky smell.”
Sophie nodded, remembering Calder describing Marshall's scent the same way.
“Did he force you to?”
Sophie shook her head. “I did it willingly. This is my only chance to save him. It's my only chance to keep myself from falling helplessly into the Shadow.” She met Layla's eyes. “This is a choice I made, rather than have it made for me. It was happening. At least I have some control over it now.”
“Soph, this is exactly what he wanted,” Layla argued.
Sophie shook her head. “My most immediate problem is Calder. I can help him now. Once that's done, I can focus on dealing with whatever's next.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“What do you need, Soph?” Layla finally asked.
Sophie told her what she had in mind, what she was planning to do, and what it would mean. “So I need you to keep an eye on me. If it starts to look like I'm too far gone, I need you to end me.”
Sophie hadn't known what to expect. She expected anger, or arguments. Instead, Layla sat there, watching her. “You think it will come to that?” she asked.
“I hope not. I believe I can manage it. But it would be careless and stupid to leave that to chance, and you're the only one I trust enough to do what needs to be done if the time ever comes.”
Layla squeezed her hand. “I love you, you know that,” she said to Sophie, and tears came to Sophie's eyes.
“I know. I love you too. I'm sorry I have to ask this of you.”
“It means a lot to me that you did. How messed up is that?” she said with a roll of her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You can count on me, Soph. Don't make it come to that, though.”
“I'm going to try not to,” Sophie promised.
After a few more minutes, she hugged Layla and left, after making Layla promise to keep their conversation to herself. She did, and hugged Sophie again, and watched Sophie as she got into her car. Sophie gave her a wave and drove off.
When she got home, she slept the sleep of the dead.
She went in to work early the next morning, but ended up leaving when, right before lunchtime, the high winds blowing outside knocked the power out. When it didn't come back up in the next hour, her boss sent everyone home. They didn't have any guests anyway, it being midweek in the off season. Sophie was grateful.
She drove home, hoping she'd see Calder at some point that day. She didn't know how long the two of them would hunt. Sometimes, she knew, he and Bryce would hunt for an entire weekend, but she guessed Jon and Calder's hunt wouldn't go on that long, considering that someone needed to be there to watch over their father.
She got home. There were no yellow roses. She shook her head. Clearly, Marshall considered it done, considered himself the victor. And maybe he was for now, but he wouldn't be forever.
As she unlocked her door, she realized that her power was out, too, the generator having kicked on. She could hear it running at the back of the house. When she stepped inside, her phone rang. She glanced at it. Calder's number.
“Hey, Sophie,” he said, and his voice was tense.
“Hey,” she said. “Are you home?”
“No.”
His voice was wrong. Tight.
“What's wrong?”
“Do you have power?”
“No. The wind knocked the power out at work, and I just got home. Luckily the generator's going.”
He didn't answer.
“Calder?”
“We lost power at my dad's house, too. We have solar at the main house, but we ran wires to the fences around my dad's pen. A fallen tree branch crashed into the wire we had running, and the power went out.”
“Are you there fixing it now, then?” Sophie asked, rifling through her mail.
“He got out. We weren't there at the time. We felt the wind kicking up, and we headed back. He was already out.”
Sophie froze, didn't respond right away. “Oh, no,” she finally managed. “Any idea where he would have gone?”
“We're hoping deeper into the woods. We're looking for him now. If you hear anything from around town, call me, okay? Christ, if he heads toward town…” he said, the worry in his voice making her ache for him.
“It'll be okay. I'll call if I hear anything. I promise.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Be careful, Calder,” she said softly.
“I will. I love you.”
“I love you,” she said. He hung up, and she set the phone on the mantel.
This wouldn't end well. How many times had he said he should have put his father out of his misery long ago? Her heart ached for what Calder was likely to have to face when they finally found their father.
Of course, it would be so much worse if they didn't find him. She'd seen him now. It was obvious he was a danger to anyone he came across.
She went outside, gave the animals food and water. It would be her last time doing this. One of the other maids at the resort was starting her own little homestead in the country, and she'd been thrilled to hear Sophie was looking to re-home her animals. Keeping them around now was pointless. They weren't producing anymore, though she had no doubt they'd start producing again away from her.
Of course, Merlin would still be there. She still seemed to be the only one who wanted the bad-tempered jerk of a goat.
She finished with the animals, then headed to the garden, started pulling out the dead plants. She tossed them into a wheelbarrow, then, once it was all clean, she wheeled all of it to the large compost pile she'd started behind the barn.
As she turned the corner, she heard a growl.
Mr. Turcotte stood there, growling, mouth foaming, his fur standing up in disheveled clumps.
“Tracked me here, did you?” she asked softly. He snarled again, and a movement in the nearby woods caught his attention. He lunged in that direction, on the hunt, and Sophie ran for the house.
The animals, it seemed, had more sense than she'd given them credit for. The chickens and goats had all retreated into their structures, and Sophie quickly locked them in before running for the back door. She could hear crazed growls, howls from the woods.
Her phone was ringing, and she grabbed it off the mantel.
“Sophie. Bryce said he thought he saw my dad not too far from you,” Calder's voice came over the phone, tense.
“Calder. He's here. He was behind my barn a minute ago. I just ran for the house. He's hunting in my woods, I think.”
“Sophie, stay in the house. Promise me,” Calder said.
“Okay,” she said.
“We're coming. Just hold tight.”
She hung up, looked toward her front window. Mr. Turcotte was standing out there, looking in at her, growling, snapping in his insane rage.
He carried the curse, too, Sophie thought to herself, and just as the realization hit her, he sprang, came crashing through the glass and into her living room.
Sophie ran out the front door, knowing it would be a really, really bad idea to let him back her into a corner. At least outside, she could run.
Right. Because she was so likely to be able to outrun a crazed bear beast.
Mr. Turcotte came charging out of her house, back to where he'd been standing in her front yard.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He stood there, fur bristling, blood on his snout. He'd clearly hunted, eaten. At his feet was the carcass of some small animal. Sophie's stomach threatened to empty itself, and she gulped, looked away from him. He snarled.
“I
am trying to lift the curse, Mr. Turcotte. I swear it.”
She readied herself. He lunged at her, and she acted on instinct, focusing on pushing out energy the way she had with Calder, and later with Marshall. It struck the raging bear, and he fell back, jumped up again, and sprang at her with a spine-chilling roar. She threw out another energy blast, knocking him away.
“I do not want to hurt you,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. He lunged again, and she knocked him back.
She understood then, more than she would have expected, exactly how it was that the magic generated by the Shadow became so addictive to those who wielded it. The first time she'd used it against Mr. Turcotte, it had come to her easily, and every time thereafter, she'd felt a euphoria, as if using it triggered something inside her. It was wrong. Causing pain, especially against someone who had no clue what he was doing, was wrong. In her heart, she felt wrong. But the magic was powerful, and it was all too natural to go with what felt good.
“Stop,” she said, and he lunged again. With a cry, she sent out another blast. He was just picking himself up, snarling, when she saw two headlights approaching, heard the distinct rumble of Calder's bike. Two motorcycles turned into the driveway, and Calder and his brother each got off of a bike.
“I'll do it,” Calder said in a low voice to Jon. “Protect her.”
Jon patted Calder on the shoulder, and the brothers exchanged a look. Sophie watched as Jon gave Calder's shoulder a squeeze, then walked toward her, keeping an eye on his father. Mr. Turcotte got ready to spring at Sophie again, and before she even got off the blast of energy she was holding at the ready, Calder, in full bear form, was leaping in front of his father. The two bears crashed into each other, and the night was filled with snarls, growls. Jon had shifted as well, and stood in front of Sophie. He was not as big a bear as Calder, or even what Mr. Turcotte must have been once up on a time, but he had that same shaggy black fur, same powerful form.
Sophie closed her eyes, trying, working feverishly, seeing if there was some way she could stop the curse before Calder did something he'd hate himself for for the rest of his life. She focused on the tangle of magic, of Shadow, in Calder's soul. She could barely concentrate with all of the roaring and growling, the occasional pained howl. She continued working, but her eyes snapped open when she heard Calder give a pained yelp, and she lost any headway she'd made. Calder sported a deep gash across his chest. She put her hands to her face, trying not to cry out. He was limping a little. Mr. Turcotte, however, was in much worse shape. Bloodied, limping. She watched Calder. Everyone knew he had the advantage. He knew it. All he had to do was leap forward and end it. His injuries, he'd taken since gaining the advantage. She knew what it was. He didn't want to do it.
Shadow Witch Rising (Copper Falls Book 1) Page 24
