A Late Summer Bloom

by Cherrie Mack

  “You can try to stop me,” the warlock said, “but more will come. You cannot win. Our army is too great.” As their exchange went on, Desiree tried to think of a way to help.

  Her eyes moved to where Colt stood. He motioned to her, pointing to the woods. More were coming.

  With her anxiety mounting, Desiree called upon every fiber of power in her body to do something. Anything. It was then her head splintered, and her mouth grew parched. Desperation and a fear for Simon coursed through her blood, causing her body to shake with alarm. A burning sensation crept over her skin until she gasped for air. Focusing in on the warlock, a fiery rain descended upon him until flaming pellets singed his skin. A shocked Desiree looked on as an equally surprised Simon turned to stare at her. And when he did, the warlock unleashed his fury on the distracted warrior.

  The warlock, shrieking in pain from the burning drops, grasped Simon’s waist and lifted him off his feet. Raking his finger knives down the length of Simon’s thigh, the warlock opened his flesh, exposing the bone. Blood spurted out, Desiree’s fiery rain diminished as fear took hold of her soul. She helplessly watched Simon struggle for his release. In the midst of the battle, she saw no hope for triumph and sunk to her knees in defeat.

  Unable to watch Simon die, Desiree begged. “Please, take me. I will do whatever you want. Please stop. You’re killing him!”

  “You will tell me your gift, and I will bring you to kneel before Natas. If you do, I will kill your traveler quick, instead of slow. Tell me. Now!” The warlock hissed.

  “No!” Simon shouted, out of breath and with pain evident in his voice.

  Desiree felt Simon’s mind probe. Unsure what to do, she braced herself, tears sliding down her cheeks. Desiree was ready to face the truth, but could Simon? They would soon lose one another again.

  The warlock’s eyes yellowed with anger. Raising his hand high above Simon’s head, threatening death, he shouted at Desiree. “Tell me now or the traveler dies, and I will feed you his beating heart.”

  Simon closed his eyes in surrender.

  Desiree shrieked for mercy. “No! I will kneel before him—” She looked up when Julien Beaumont stepped out from the trees.

  Cocking his head to the side, Julien pursed his lips. “What have we here? Trying to strike a deal? How’s this for a deal. I cut, you die!” He raised his sword and in seconds, sliced the hand from the warlock’s body.

  Screeching in agony, the warlock’s grip on Simon loosened.

  Simon seized the opportunity to use his own sword and slice away the other hand. Simon’s blood left a trail in the dirt as he moved away from the beast. He croaked the words out. “What took you so long friend?”

  “Just trying to get a few pointers from you, old man.”

  Desiree ran to Simon, dragging him away from the horrific scene as Julien ripped the dripping fangs from the warlock’s mouth. The blood-curdling screams echoed throughout the woods, the mist slowly seeping up from the carcass of the warlock,

  Desiree shouted to Julien. “There are more coming, Julien. We have to leave.”

  The mist of souls filled the air, hundreds climbing up through the fog of freedom to the heavens above. Simon held on to her hand. “Mon ange. You have been saved.”

  “Why would you trade your life for mine? Why?”

  “You know what gift my beautiful wife, Aimee, possessed?”

  Desiree shook her head and, through her tears, managed to answer. “No, Simon. What was her true calling?”

  Before Simon slipped into unconsciousness, he whispered. “The fiery rain.”

  Desiree’s tears soaked his shirt as she pressed her hands tight to his wound and cried.

  All that remained was a putrid smell and a shriveled, slimy bag of bones. Colt made his way over to Desiree and Simon. He hesitated before joining them. Desiree nervously looked at Colt. “He won’t bite, but he might die. We must do something.”

  “No ma’am, he won’t bite.”

  “Nor will he die.” Julien said. “But we must get him to the cavern immediately.”

  He searched the outer perimeter to determine the best escape route, leaving Desiree and Colt tending to Simon.

  Colt looked around. “I don’t think I can do what them there men just done.”

  “Not many can. These men are travelers. It is what they were trained to do.”

  “I see your auras, Miss Desiree. They become brighter around him.” Colt pointed to an unconscious Simon. Desiree nodded her head in silent agreement.

  Julien approached them. “It’s time to go. We can’t wait. My nose says to go east a half mile or so and then double back. The cavern isn’t far.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Giselle tapped into the veil, said she found you through him.” Julien pointed at Colt.

  Desiree narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that where you went when you were so quiet? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “In case they weren’t on time.” Colt answered.

  She turned back to Julien. “Where is Giselle now?” Desiree asked.

  “She is safe in the cave.”

  Disappointed, she asked. “Why didn’t she come to us?”

  “It would be too dangerous. I was afraid for her. But she was able to use your friend Colt here as a host for her power. She’s learning fast. There’s no stopping her now.”

  Colt pointed to the woods. “She was holding them back. Through me.” He shook his head in obvious amazement. “But they’re coming, and she can’t hold them much longer without me. Let’s go.”

  Julien looked towards the woods, and then back to Simon who lay bleeding. “Yeah. We haven’t got much time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  A melodious drip echoed through the cavern as Simon was splayed out on a pristine slab of marble. Giselle approached Julien first, searching for wounds. Satisfied, she gently caressed his cheek, slowly blinking, offering him silent accolades for the brave rescue. Unable to touch him for much longer without her heart shattering all over again, she moved on to Desiree who stood, staring blankly ahead. Her eyes red and swollen.

  Giselle gently took her hand, speaking softly, trying to comfort her. “He will heal. It was what the fates had decided for him. Simon needed to sacrifice himself for you in order to become whole again. Do you understand?”

  Desiree slowly faced her with dirt-smeared cheeks. Nodding her head in a slow and methodical motion, she then fell into Giselle’s arms and cried. After a few moments, Desiree pulled away and made her way to be with Simon.

  Giselle caught sight of the young man who helped her locate them. She approached him. “I am Giselle Jareau, and you are Colt?”

  “Colt Wacumin. I’m a friend of Miss Desiree.”

  “Well Colt, I will be forever grateful to you.”

  “I’m glad it turned out well for her, miss.” Giselle noticed him look toward Desiree.

  “What coven do you hail from?”

  “I have no coven to speak of. Been on my own long as I can remember. Had me a real nice foster family once, but I never really fit in. It seems I have the mark of a watcher.”

  Giselle lifted her brow, recalling the stories Angelique used to spin. “I know. And you will be part of a coven—mine. Under my protection at all times.”

  “Are you a princess or something?”

  Directly meeting his gaze, she smiled.

  “Yes, I am the tenth power, which means queen to the royals.” Colt looked unsure. She put it another way. “I have a great power. I am in charge of all the witches.” Stunned, he dropped to one knee. She asked his allegiance. “Colt, Julien and I must travel to Cottonwood Landing. Will you please watch over my friends? Simon will be healed by sunset and we will need him to join us by then.”

  “Oh yes, of course, miss.”

  “Thank you. You can get up now.” She watched him approach Desiree. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she watched Desiree cover his hand with her own.

  Smiling, she turned to
find Julien, when sudden and unexpected, the veil returned. Placing her hands out in front of her, she centered herself. Fighting the rising panic, Giselle fought for breath when the veil showed her mother embracing a man. An evil man. The veil dropped, and she felt as if she were standing in the same space. This man knew of her presence but her mother did not. With her back to Giselle, the man hugged her mother stroking her hair and whispering in her ear. His fingers lengthened to sharp knives and when he bared his fangs his smile showed the wickedness of a warlock.

  Terrified for her mother, she stood frozen unable to move. Watching the warlock revert to his human appearance sickened her. He looked exactly like the traveler she believed to be her father. She knew her mother was being deceived. Or was she? Could this warlock be her father? Was her vision past tense? Present? Future? Maybe the man—the warlock who smiled at her was her father? Shaken, the veil began to fade out, leaving her with too many unanswered questions.

  Giselle fisted her hands until the veil slowly released her from its grip.

  Julien stood in front of her. “Giselle? Giselle? Are you alright? Was it something about the war?”

  Beads of sweat rolled down her temple and she found it difficult to breath. An asthmatic sounding wheeze came from her throat and she felt her lungs and chest constrict.

  She covered her face. “I think I may have been fathered by a warlock.”

  “Impossible.”

  “The veil showed me my mother. She was with a man, a wicked man. A man who is no more a witch than the warlock you destroyed out in the woods today.”

  “I know your father, Giselle. He’s not a witch, he is a traveler. An immortal. Where did this come from?”

  “I just saw it.”

  He shook his head. “No. There must be an explanation.”

  “Who can explain that? Who knows the truth?”

  Julien grabbed her by the hand and pulled. “Your mother, that’s who.”

  ****

  Desiree sat by Simon, patiently waiting for him to stir from the healing sleep. She continued to bathe his wounds, dipping a cloth into a basin filled with water from the cavern pools. As she wrung it out over his body, she watched his wounds froth. The restorative properties in the mineral bath were working. She wouldn’t have believed it if she didn’t see it for herself. Although she was a witch and grew up believing in magic, witnessing this kind of power was a rarity.

  Simon was stretched out with only a scrap of clothing covering his groin. The rest of his body lay naked, every scar on display for her eyes to see. No wonder he tried so desperately to hide them from her sight. The ugly jagged streaks marred his skin. The pain he must have endured to seek vengeance in the name of his Aimee, in the name of—her—had to have been immense.

  Desiree’s hands shook as she submerged the cloth in the water bowl. Struggling with her emotions, she thought endlessly about her future. With so much to discover, and her life just beginning, Desiree wanted the freedom to indulge in her true calling. Yet, deep down, she knew she was the reincarnation of Aimee Granvil. And that the man that lay before her offered a love which crossed the boundaries of space and time. Part of her wanted him desperately, and the other part wanted to run away. Desiree hung her head and cried, knowing Colt Wacumin quietly watched over them like a guard to the highest ranking generals of the royal army.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Cottonwood Landing

  Cecily Jareau played with the pendant she wore around her neck. Nervously, she pulled the rounded locket from side to side while she snuck away from Cottonwood Landing through the hidden tunnels. Reaching the path she’d walked as a younger woman, she anxiously awaited the arrival of Zacharias. The one man who stood by her for twenty years and never turned her away. He understood and cared for her. He loved her. And it was Zacharias who first told her of Jacques LaFeoure’s deception. He explained Jacques’ determination to acquire power at any cost. Impregnating her with the hopes for a female child would give him the opportunity to discover if his blood could indeed produce a tenth power. When Zacharias told her where to find him, she saw the horrific evidence for herself. His eyes had glowed and his fingers lengthened into knives as he laughed at her ignorance.

  Shunning the thought from her mind, she focused on finding a way to fix the horrendous curse Giselle carried, before it was too late. And it must be here, on the sacred grounds of Cottonwood Landing, where she would kill her daughter. Arriving at the secret location she and Zacharias agreed upon, she waited.

  Zacharias stepped from the brush with his arms outstretched in a welcome gesture. A smiling Cecily went to him. He held her in a protective embrace and spoke in a soft, comforting tone.

  “My Cecily. You’ve come home. I’m proud of you. After all these years, you’ve come when I called. The time is growing near for you to prove your worthiness. Have you traveled here with Giselle?”

  She held her eyes down, ashamed of her failure. “She has yet to arrive.”

  Zacharias’ grip tightened on her arms, pushing her back to look into her eyes, “Do you know where she is?”

  “No. But last I heard she was on her way here. She is due to arrive in Cottonwood Landing any day now.”

  Zacharias loosened his hold on her, quickly responding to her curious gaze. “She could be in grave danger. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her. After all, once you kill her, she will be reborn a very powerful witch.”

  Cecily relaxed. “Yes, I understand.”

  “You need to get back to the royals before they notice you are gone. Remember, Cecily, you must bring Giselle to me alone. No travelers—you remember what I told you about the travelers?”

  “Yes—some have been turned. Just like Jacques.”

  “Those fools think it can’t happen. You saw proof, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. It was horrible.”

  “Once the blackness is scrubbed from Giselle, she will be made our queen. It is only then we can set the world on its true path.”

  “I trust you, Zacharias.”

  As he pulled her back into his arms and held her close, he stroked her hair. Something about his tone told her he was smiling. “Yes, Cecily. I will take care of her. You can trust me.”

  ****

  As Julien escorted Giselle to Cottonwood Landing, she thought of all the things that could go wrong. Would they welcome her? Slowing her walk, she stalled. “What’s the big deal about Cottonwood Landing, anyway?”

  He looked over at her. “You know nothing of its greatness?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s where our laws are derived, wars declared.”

  Coming up over an incline, they stopped to gaze at the sight before them. Giselle stared in awe. Not far away was Cottonwood Landing. It stood in the distance, a true castle. “It’s so beautiful. I know so little of all this.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll learn soon enough. Cottonwood Landing is like the human version of The White House. When you take your rightful place, it would become Cottonwood Palace, complete with a royal guard. Much like the humans’ Buckingham Palace.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, I get it.” She lifted her brow. “But, if I’m such a big deal, why aren’t there armies of witches lining up to greet me? How come I get one traveler, no offense, to escort me to my rightful place?”

  “Because the royals were told you could destroy them. That you were innately an evil being, someone who will penetrate the sacred hallow of Cottonwood Landing and invite the blackness in.”

  “Oh—is that all?”

  Laughing at her reaction, he pulled her along. “Come, Little Witch. They won’t believe that when I’m done with them.”

  As they got closer, Giselle pulled her hand from his grip. Trying to be discreet, she rubbed her sweaty palm on her ripped jeans. She ran her fingers through the tangled mess on her head.

  Julien glanced at her. “Don’t worry. Even when you look your worst, you’re one of the most beautiful women I’v
e ever seen. Please know how much I’ve loved you.”

  Loved? She stiffened, recognizing the finality of the word. She glanced at Julien, who offered her nothing more than a sad smile. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

  Finally arriving at the path leading to the massive electronic gates, she let out a sigh of relief. “If the warlocks are getting bold enough to attack witches not far from the gates of this place, why wouldn’t I be a target?” I wouldn’t be if I’m one of them.

  Julien said nothing. He snapped his fingers, and a thin layer of energy crackled and popped.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  He smiled. “My protection shield. It’s my true calling. We were invisible to the human eye, a cool breeze to those with supernatural ability, and a warning sign to anything less than—savory.” He winked at her.

  Slowly, the gates opened. Beyond them lay a very large, well-kept, sprawling Victorian-style estate. Clearly home to a large number of guests, the estate was the size of a hotel.

  Giselle reached out for him.

  He looked at her outstretched hand, but stood to the side, allowing her to pass.

  Alone, she forged her way ahead without looking back. Knowing that he followed behind her would have to placate her, for now. She thought it ironic, since only a short time ago she had followed behind him.

  A man was just beyond the gates, standing straight, his hands clasped behind his back. When she approached, she smiled, while noting his unease. His body seemed unbending and stiff, but as she moved closer, she saw the tension leave his limbs.

  Who is he looking at? Me? Or Julien? Giselle offered her hand to the stranger.

  He took her hand in his. When he placed his other hand over hers, he smiled. Standing back, he held her hand up and bowed at her feet. “Your Highness. My name is Percy Bovier. I am the acting royal head of the five families. We have waited many years for Your Grace to come home. It is my honor to greet you and show you to your rightful place in Cottonwood Landing.”