My world spun in circles wrapped around black cursed tendrils. An average-looking man stood beyond a cauldron, chanting and sprinkling drops of blood. The black pot hissed and smoked, the tendrils rising until they manifested themselves into a fiery sword.
The same sword that Gabriel had used to stab me.
The same tendrils that Aylin had exorcised from her body last night.
The man shuffled forward. His spell called forth dark magic to overtake someone's power. Although, I couldn't make out his words, his intentions were clear. Steal magic. Please master. Be free.
He tossed in a lock of red hair and ended the chant. The black char faded into the sword, now dormant, waiting for its target. A target I suspected would be Aylin.
The vision faded, and I fell flat on my ass. “ Did you do that? You encouraged Aylin to extract the poison from me, then you helped pull it from my body and now she's powerless!” I grabbed Luna's wrist and tugged. “Did you know?”
“I suspected that there might have been a slight interruption in your bond with Aylin, but I wasn't sure until I combined our powers to see what that invasion could have been.” Luna pulled her hand free and straightened her gown. “But no, I didn't know the tendrils were power suckers.”
“I was never meant to be the target of the poison.” It was always Aylin and now, she was in trouble. I had to get to her.
A tear trickled down Luna's cheek. “It was the only thing that could save you. I didn't know what it would do to Aylin.”
Luna's mystical voice sent chills down my spine.
“Ease up, Connor. It's not her fault.” Bryn placed an arm around Luna. “We need to figure out how to help Aylin.”
“Aylin has no power?” Drew stood dumbfounded.
I jumped to my feet, ready to fight a battle like no other and glared at Drew. “That's right, Drew. Gabriel and his servant took her power!”
Chapter Fifteen
Aylin
The smell of bleach wafted through the air as I scrubbed the same spot on the kitchen counter for the third time. I tossed the loose tendrils of hair that escaped my bun behind my ear and chucked the rag into the sink.
What did other people do? Those without power? Well, I wasn't sure about everyone else, but I needed to clean. And clean some more.
The kitchen sparkled. The bathroom had been disinfected, and I'd spent the better part of two hours physically tiring myself on household chores. What else could I do? Control a two-hundred-pound shifter with my mind? If Connor wanted to take off without so much of a “goodbye,” fine. But I couldn't communicate with him or read his mind.
Nope. Not anymore.
The power that had swam through my body yesterday lay dormant. I doubted it was completely gone, because I still felt the pull of its voice calling to me, but it was too feeble. Prior to last night, I was powerful, strong, forceful. But now? I wasn't sure what I could do and what I couldn't.
I smiled. When I called to him, my bond with Connor opened. Still, I was a little peeved to find his side of the bed cold this morning, but glad for the time to gather my thoughts and come up with a plan of action.
I collected my stones and potions and headed to the bare living room.
I sat in the center of the floor and placed three white sapphire sat three geographical points—south, east, and west—around me. Each rare stone possessed a varying shade of clarity.
The north stone, however, was a deep blue sapphire and would grant me the ability to get and receive knowledge or insight to overcome my current situation. I cradled the stone in my hand and closed my eyes to center my chakras. With a deep sigh, I carefully laid the stone in the north position.
Through its power, I called forth a sanctuary that I had left behind many years ago. One that called to my soul, but burned the blood in my veins. I could never be what the Table of Seven wanted me to be, but I believed in their power, in their pursuit of fighting the rebels, and so, I called them forth. I used the white sapphires to center my chakras with a purity only granted to those who walked among the elders.
White mist wrapped around my soul, calming me. The presence of a spiritual guide whispered to me as she transported me to their realm—a place no mortal could go. A place no magical being could go without an invitation. But I was different. I was once one of them.
Once, I sat at their table.
The Table of Seven.
The fog transporting my magical quintessence faded. I floated peacefully, circling the round wooden table, eyeing each of the seven empty chairs with varying interest. Uriel, Nadia, and now Cassiel's symbols adorned three of the seven chairs. Hopefully soon, the table would be full, and they would restore the magical essence of our kind.
I ran a feather light touch over the chair across from Uriel's. The chiseled etchings carved on it depicted a beautiful red wolf, another rarity. Wolves within the pack were typically brown, black, gray, white or a variation of those colors.
I was a red wolf.
“Well, well, well. Isn't this a surprise?” The deep guttural voice sent shivers down my back.
Slowly, I removed my hand from the chair's wolf and turned toward a man I wanted to kill with my bare hands. I looked into his golden eyes and growled, “What the fuck?”
“Nice to see you again, too.” Mitch took a seat to the left of my former chair.
“You've got to be kidding me. Uriel made you a member!” I pushed him forward to see the mountain lion symbol on the back of his chair. The golden hues contrasted with the dark wooden color of the chair. The painted features blended in well with the natural wood.
“Oh, not all of us walk away from the chance to be immortal.” He laughed and leaned back. “Now, what brings you to the Table of Seven?”
“I didn't come to see you!” I spat. “Where is Uriel? The others? Did you kill them?” I strode around the table, stopping to feel the magic of each chair. They were alive and well.
“Humph, you think so little of me as to suggest that I”—he placed a hand to his chest which he puffed out—“would kill our gods?”
“I can't see our gods granting you access to this room, much less giving you a seat.” I walked to the left edge of the room where the training room was easily accessible.
“Uriel!” I shouted for my mentor.
“Oh, you're no fun.” Mitch rose from the table and sneered. “But it feels good to have someone know my secret.” He winked and vanished.
He had infiltrated the elders. Now what?
“Uriel!” I screeched louder. The sound echoed as though I were in a cave, not a magical realm.
“Child, what is this about?” Uriel flowed into the room, his white gown shifting with his movements. The smell of rain, air, and earth followed him like cologne.
The scent brought back memories of us practicing potions, spells, meditation, mind control, and any other magical class he brought my way. I had conquered them all by the time I was fifteen.
If only Liam had known what he asked of Uriel by enlisting him to train me. I loved learning and controlling my abilities, but the power came at a cost. One day, the elders banned me from the Table. I thought I had done something wrong. That I wasn't smart enough or strong enough.
Glancing at my bond, I wondered if they had known something about me that would help shape the revolution and take down the devil himself, Gabriel.
“Mitch? Really? You kicked me out and replaced me with a man who isn't pure by any means?” I held back a curse and kicked the side of his abandoned chair. My toe throbbed.
“Everyone has a place, a role in this world, child. Some of them are more complex than others.” Uriel spread his arms, waiting to embrace me.
How long had it been since I last saw him? Six, seven years?
I walked toward him, each step lifting another weight off my shoulders. He pulled me into a tight hug, and I fisted the back folds of his gown in my hands. The silk crinkled. A tear slid down my cheek as he patted my back.
“There, there
, child.”
I wiped my face and stepped back. “It's gone.” The words were final and shook my entire world.
“Child, nothing is every truly gone.” He waved off my words like flicking a pesky fly. Each word tumbled through the air until even I wasn't sure I believed them.
“I understand nothing.” I sat down in my old chair—the one that had called me to the elders at such an early age. I felt like that same sixteen-year-old girl, wanting to please her mentor and tackle the world. I huffed and swept my fingers through my hair.
“You're not supposed to.” Uriel eased down in his chair across from mine. “What path would you take if you knew the destination? Would you go left or right?”
“It depends on what is at the end.”
“Exactly. You would change your own fate, depending on your desired outcome. It wouldn't matter what effects your choice had on others. If everyone had that ability, imagine what havoc that would cause. If one sought power, money, control, what would make their desired outcomes any less real than yours? The world would be unbalanced.”
“But you have that power.”
“No, child, I don't. I can guide, but I can't intervene.”
“But you intervened when you kicked me away from the Table and, now, I don't have my powers!” My cheeks heated. Uriel had known, exiling me from him, the Table, and the Seven’s cause to reunite shifters and rebuild the soulbonds. “You knew I would be bonded.”
“I had a feeling, but your choices were your own. Everything that happens is because of your freedom of choice.”
“And my power?”
“You cannot lose something that is a part of your soul.” He pointed to his heart. “Your power or fragments of it are still your own. How you get the pieces back is up to you.” Uriel pointed to the outer wall. A white circle formed. Pieces of light chased each other in an endless race. “It's time, my child.”
“So, that's it? No apology for destroying my dreams?” I stepped to the circle, my inner child coming out to stomp her foot in a slight pout.
“Child, I gave you your dreams. I never destroyed them.”
With that, I stepped through the portal and landed back in the middle of Connor's living room. I picked up each sapphire and placed it carefully in my bag. If I thought Uriel would help me regain my power, I was sorely mistaken.
He spoke as though magic wasn't an all-inclusive item. Fragments or pieces, he said. If I followed his logic, then magic was like water. Each drop filled a glass until the glass was full. If a few drops spilled out, then the glass could still be full. At this point, I had trouble determining if my glass was half full, half empty, or shattered on the floor.
What would pull pieces of magic from me? Connor and I bonded last night, but that wouldn't have extracted power. It should have enhanced it.
A vision of me fighting the black char in an octagon flashed in my mind. The power of the char twirled around me and entwined its tendrils inside me. I thought it had been separating my soul from my wolf's, but what if it was extracting my power one evil tendril at a time? Had it grabbed hold of my power and consumed it? If so, to whom had it gone?
Mitch? No, he wasn’t that smart. He could shift and control some magic, but to extract my power required someone seasoned in the art of dark magic and Mitch wasn't seasoned. Luna? She had encouraged me to extract the char from Connor. His body was rejecting the magic, unable to fight off the poison. Gabriel? Definitely. He had the power and the connections. But was Luna working with him?
The blackness could have targeted me all along. Connor's extraction, my wolf's release, my house burning down—they had just been distractions. The ashes of my house held my memories of the life I had built from an early age.
Son of a bitch! I fisted my hands and stormed from the house.
Ashes to ashes.
This evil voice taunted me with the swirl of love that encompassed me when I thought of my home, my safe place. It was mine. I helped build it. I decorated it. What little life I had was kept in that house.
Dust to dust.
I hopped into my beast—my black truck—and revved the engine. I would show that bastard what dust and ashes could do when they belonged to this witch, shifter, half-breed.
The truck's tires spun as I turned the corner, racing the extra mile or so to what was left of my house. My heart pounded and tingles of fear crept through my body, but I squashed them. I would not fear Gabriel. He could take my home, but he couldn't take my heart.
Uriel's hand resting on his heart flashed through my mind. Maybe the old man had helped me.
I slammed the gear shift into park and climbed from the truck. My cowgirl boots crushed the ash as I stepped through the ruins. The cold breeze sent a shiver down my spine. Damn, I forgot my coat. But the chill of the air did little to cool the heat spreading to my face as Gabriel emerged from the ashes of my home.
“Ashes to ashes.” His voice carried over the ringing in my ears.
The sane part of me told me to run. Quickly. In the other direction. The crazy part of me stepped forward and glared at the man in front of me.
His dark hair stood in spikes, and his eyes were a deep violet with red specks.
The intrusion came fast and hard. My mind recoiled as barriers were invaded. The dark power surged. I fell to my knees. I grabbed at my head, trying to force the barriers back up, but Gabriel's voice whispered in my brain.
“Down,” he commanded. He forced each nerve signal and muscle to bend to his will.
I fought to gain control. Even standing had sweat pouring down my forehead. I wobbled forward. You will not control me. You will not overpower me. You will not use my own power against me.
I forced up a mental barrier. His control faltered. I could beat him.
“You'll have to do better than that to keep me down.”
My power sparked, then sizzled out.
Gabriel grabbed my shoulder and squeezed, singeing my shirt with his touch and burning my flesh. I screamed, but couldn't jerk free of his hold.
“The trouble is, you didn't bring backup.” Gabrielle forced me forward.
“Fuck you!”
“No, thank you.” He eyed my soulbond. “You're infected.”
As if that said it all, Gabriel chanted a few words and I fell.
Right into an-honest-to-god dungeon.
Chapter Sixteen
Connor
“She's gone!” I ran a shaky hand through my hair and searched the house one more time. The stench of bleach burned my nose. My stomach churned as I tried to imagine why someone would need so much bleach in the kitchen. What were they cleaning?
Blood?
I pushed away the thought. She couldn't be hurt. I wasn't gone that long for someone to murder her and then clean my damn kitchen to cover up their crime.
I reached out through our bond and her essence tugged back. The trickle of acknowledgement eased my nerves. My hand trembled as I pressed it over my heart, thankful our bond still pulsated.
Yet, like a child's persistent tugging to gain attention, her presence called to me. I closed my eyes and saw a shadowy figure in my kitchen, cleaning, hastily moving about. The human-like mist flowed about the island and into the living room. She hovered in the center of the room where she sat down. I followed suit beside the mist and slowed my breathing. Our connection formed, her essence twining with mine.
My body became lighter, as though the gravity in the room was sucked away. Tensing, I held on to the mist and followed her.
“Man, she's not here,” Drew said from the doorway, but I ignored him.
A part of me needed to sit here and stay awhile, to soak in the remnants of her. Focusing on the mist, I squeezed my eyes tighter, but it flowed toward a bag. I grabbed it and dumped the contents on the floor. Stones clattered on the wood floor. Most were white, but the mist hovered over the single blue sapphire.
I held it with both hands until the cold stone sent magical sparks throughout my body and soul. I tight
ened my fingers around the blue sapphire until my knuckles turned white. An unfamiliar power slammed into me like the current of a lightning bolt traveling through water. It was fast, sharp, and painful.
“Connor, what's going on?”
Drew's voice faded as I slammed through what felt like a tornado's funnel. A mirage of events that weren't my own flashed before my eyes like an old-fashion movie reel. Each frame showed Aylin growing, maturing, training.
Her struggles. Her happiness. Her fears. All tangled together, seeping into my soul. My life. Our life. What I had always considered her aloofness, I now understood was something different. A cover for her feelings of failure, of connecting with someone, of needing to rely on someone other than herself.
And I was that someone.
Her someone.
Our connection mingled like the light from our bond. We danced, circled, intertwined. I shared Aylin's life on every level. She was mine and I was hers.
With each memory, a weight lifted until all her doubts, all her fears vanished and she was at peace. I was at peace—a simple word that had several levels of complexity. I floated from the world I lived in to somewhere else. Maybe it was heaven, maybe hell. Who knew? But this must be what heaven felt like when you finally crossed through the pearly gates.
Before I could cross into the unknown, I crashed back to earth. Hard.
I fell atop of Aylin's house. Or what remained of it. The cool remnants of the fire crunched under my less-than-graceful landing, and the puff of soot had me coughing. My eyes stung as particles flew around me. When my vision cleared, the white human-like mist guided me to the center of the house.
I dusted the ashes off my pants as I followed her. She picked up the blue stone that I must have dropped during my fall and offered it to me. When I reached for it, the stone's coldness seeped into my fingers, but upon my touch, it heated and glowed eerily.
The swirling mist vanished.
“Aylin!” I reached out to hold the mist here. “Please, don't leave. I need you.” I called to Aylin, believing with every fiber of my body that she was the mist. But it was too late. I was left alone in the middle of the ashes with the blue sapphire.
The Half Moon: Soulbond Series Book 2 Page 11
