Marked Descendant (Descendants Book 2)

by L. D. Goffigan

  Naomi gripped the edge of the table, giving Madalena a jerky nod. She had tried to reach Genevieve before and failed, but now that she knew about her connection to her, she had to try.

  “The second grimoire your mother left you,” Madalena continued, “it contains the counter to the Destruction spell. Guard it with everything you have. Put as many Cloaking enchantments on it as you can.”

  When they ended the call, Alaric studied her for a long moment, his blue eyes stormy, before leaving the room without a word. Naomi watched him go, sighing. She understood why he was worried about her connecting with Genevieve, but it had to be done.

  But first, there was the matter of the grimoire her mother had left her. It rested next to the laptop, and she reached for it, running her fingers along its spine. She’d protect the grimoire as if it were the Incantation Stone itself; it was just as valuable. Just as dangerous.

  “Armarri ezku desare,” Naomi murmured, and the grimoire went warm with the words of her Cloaking spell. Thanks, Mom, she silently added, with a rush of gratitude. Her mother may have inadvertently saved millions by hiding away a copy of the grimoire.

  She opened it to the page which detailed the Destruction spell, a chill spreading throughout her body as she read the words. The spell was as dangerous as the spell inscribed in the Incantation Stone. She carefully flipped the page, where the words of counter spells were written out, and silently murmured them. She needed to commit them all to memory.

  Kat entered the room minutes later, balancing two mugs of tea on a tray. She handed one to Madalena, her face a little pale. They’d told her about her mother’s letter when they returned; Kat had reacted with shell-shocked silence. It looked like the news had finally settled in.

  “I can’t believe this,” Kat murmured. “Your mother never said anything about a biological sister.” She expelled a sigh, giving Naomi an apologetic look. “I feel so useless. I wish I’d known.”

  “I think she kept it from you for your safety. Genevieve is dangerous, Kat.” Naomi studied her aunt; she’d been dreading this conversation since she arrived, but it was now very necessary. “Thank you for coming here with us. But this isn’t like last time. We need to send you to a safe house until this is all over.”

  Kat opened her mouth to protest, but stopped herself.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but you’re right.” She expelled a sigh. “Is it selfish of me to wish you were still a museum curator back in Athens?”

  Naomi smiled. “It’s human,” she whispered. She reached out to place her hand over her aunt’s. “I’ll reach out to Madalena. She’ll know where you can go.”

  “And you’ll—“

  “Be safe,” Naomi said. “Always. I’ll feel better—and I’ll be able to concentrate on my magic—if I know you’re out of harm’s way.”

  Kat nodded, but her face was still taut with worry. Naomi decided to lighten the mood.

  “Alaric put a thrall on Stanley,” she said.

  “Stanley? He’s harmless!” Kat said, her lips twitching with amusement. “Hm. Maybe we can have Alaric put another thrall on him to keep him from running his lawnmower at five AM.”

  Naomi laughed. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Naomi sent off a brief message to Casimir and Madalena before moving to the kitchen to enjoy a late lunch with Kat. Naomi tried to concentrate on enjoying her aunt’s company, but her mother’s letter remained in the back of her mind.

  Madalena and Casimir moved fast; they’d just finished their meal when a cab arrived for Kat. Kat gave both her and Alaric a long embrace, and made her way out to the cab. Naomi stood by the front door, watching until it faded from view.

  “When will the people I love stop being in danger?” she asked softly, once it disappeared.

  “That’s what we’re fighting for,” he reminded her, squeezing her hand.

  With Alaric’s words in her mind, Naomi made her way out to the back deck, opening the sliding glass patio door. It was time to connect with Genevieve. Your biological aunt, she thought, with a shudder.

  A fence surrounded the property, but the forest encroached upon it just beyond, like a beast lurking towards its prey. She found a comfortable position on the deck and sat, closing her eyes.

  She focused on Genevieve in her mind’s eye. This time she focused on everything she knew about her. For her to have turned so dark, her childhood was most likely the opposite of her mother’s warm and loving one. She pictured a young Genevieve with power she didn’t know how to control. How isolating that must have been, how traumatizing.

  Naomi whispered the words of a Locator spell. Mei ene si. She thought of how Genevieve would have felt about her mother. Her mother had grown up in a loving home, met and fell in love with another witch, and had a family of her own. She’d turned her back on magic, choosing to live in the human world. She had even placed a Locking spell on her powerful daughter, a fellow Descendant. A sudden burst of rage exploded in her chest; Genevieve’s rage. The spell was working.

  “Mei ene si”, she whispered.

  There was a tug in her mind, something pulling her towards it. She followed it. She repeated the Locator spell, and the slight breeze around her picked up. Her magic was heeding her call.

  In her mind’s eye, the darkness faded, replaced by a forest clearing. It looked vaguely familiar. In the center stood a woman, her long dark hair flowing around her in the violent breeze, her hands held up to the heavens.

  Genevieve. She was seeing Genevieve.

  Naomi maintained her calm, though excitement mingled with fear coursed through her. Genevieve was in full concentration on an object in front of her, floating in mid air.

  Panic coursed through Naomi, shattering her calm. The object was an Incantation Stone; it looked exactly like the one she destroyed in Greece.

  Naomi forced herself to take in the familiar surroundings; it was a park. Seward Park, where Naomi had picnicked for many summers with her parents. The park was here in Seattle.

  Genevieve is here, Naomi realized, her panic spiraling into full-fledged terror. And she has the Stone.

  Chapter 16

  Naomi sat next to Alaric as they sped to Seward Park, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. After she told Alaric what she’d seen, he’d contacted Madalena and the others; they would be on the first flights to Seattle. He’d wanted to wait for their arrival, but there was no time. If Genevieve was activating the Stone now, they had to stop her.

  “I don’t like this,” Alaric said. “We can at least wait for Casimir and Elias. They’ll get here tomorrow morning.”

  “We can’t risk waiting,” Naomi protested. “This is the first time we’ve been so close to her.”

  Alaric tensed, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. She knew he was wrestling with his instincts to protect her—and this time, Naomi could understand. How were they going to fight another Descendant who had decades of experience with using her power? But there was no choice; if Naomi’s vision was accurate, Genevieve was only moments away from activating the Stone.

  They arrived at Seward Park in record time. Alaric turned to her, gripping her hands.

  “If necessary, I will get in the way of any Killing spell she tries to direct at you,” he said. “I know you won’t leave me behind, but I will trade my life for yours if need be.”

  “Alaric—“ Naomi protested, fear coiling around her at the thought.

  But Alaric had already opened the door and stepped out. Naomi took a breath and scrambled out of the car. She wouldn’t let him die for her; when she thought he’d taken Raphael’s Killing spell for her in Greece, it shattered her. She would cast a Binding spell on him if she had to.

  Alaric kept close to her as they approached the main entrance of the park, where Naomi cast a Disguising spell; any human who approached would see a DO NOT ENTER sign.

  Naomi’s hands shook, and she had to force herself to keep her breathing steady as they moved forward. There was a st
range energy in the air; magic. Genevieve was near.

  “Naomi . . .” Alaric whispered, abruptly. “Stop.”

  She froze, following his gaze to the path ahead. About a dozen yards in front of them lay two dead humans.

  She and Alaric rushed forward. They appeared to be hikers; their throats were cut, and they gazed up at the sky, their eyes wide and unseeing.

  “Oh my God,” Naomi whispered, horror and fury coursing through her. This was Genevieve’s doing. She was certain of it.

  Naomi knelt down by their bodies and closed their eyes with trembling fingers. It was the least she could do for them. Rest, now, she whispered.

  Alaric scanned their surroundings, his body braced as if preparing for attack. He was right to be alarmed; Genevieve had to be close. She didn’t know why Genevieve had killed the humans, but she was determined to stop her from hurting anyone else.

  “We’ll contact the authorities after this is done,” Alaric murmured, gesturing to the bodies. Naomi nodded in agreement, still shaken.

  They reached a forest clearing at the end of the path; the same clearing she’d seen in her vision. Naomi halted, her heart leaping into her throat. Alaric stilled at her side; she could feel his tension through their bond.

  Genevieve stood in the clearing, her back facing them. Her hands were outstretched, just as Naomi had seen in her mind, and the Stone floated before her.

  Naomi and Alaric exchanged a brief glance, moving quickly. Naomi whispered a Repelling spell beneath her breath, and the Stone was sent hurtling across the clearing. She then shouted a Summoning spell, adrenaline coursing through her.

  “Herel iy manato!”

  Genevieve turned towards them, her movements jerky, like a puppet guided by strings. She didn’t look surprised or upset to see them there. She looked . . . calm. Too calm.

  Naomi stepped forward, shaking with fury. This was the witch who betrayed her parents. She was responsible for their deaths. Alaric stayed close to her side, his fangs bared, as Naomi moved forward.

  “I know who you are,” Naomi spat. “My aunt. Another Descendant. Did you steal my mother’s grimoire? Did you betray her?”

  “She didn’t deserve that grimoire. And her power was wasted on her,” Genevieve said. Her voice was calm though her eyes flashed with fury. “As it’s wasted on you.”

  Genevieve raised her hands, and Naomi’s entire body went rigid. Panic filled her; Genevieve shouldn’t be able to move. Her Summoning spell hadn’t worked. At her side, Alaric was frozen as well.

  “Your abilities are disappointing, niece,” Genevieve said, as she approached them. Naomi was helpless to watch as she stopped in front of Alaric, her eyes raking over his face with hatred.

  “So you are the Blood Beast who dared to lay his filthy hands on a pureblood witch,” she hissed.

  Dread flowed through Naomi’s frozen body. Genevieve vibrated with rage; she was going to kill Alaric, and there was nothing she could do to stop her. Genevieve glanced at Naomi before returning her focus to Alaric. “Your parents and that human aunt of yours didn’t raise you well. Witches don’t fuck Blood Beasts. This is what we do to Blood Beasts.”

  Genevieve flicked her wrist, and Alaric crumbled to the ground, clutching the sides of his head. Naomi could tell that he was trying to resist whatever Genevieve had done to him, but it was a losing battle. He began to writhe in agony; the sight shattered Naomi’s heart.

  “We torture and kill them, not mate with them,” Genevieve said, her silver eyes rising to meet Naomi’s.

  Naomi forced herself to concentrate. She ran through every single spell she could think of to free herself, uttering each one in her mind, but it was no use. None of them took hold.

  Genevieve lifted her hand, yanking it back, and Naomi was free. She immediately darted towards Genevieve, shouting a Repelling spell, but again, it didn’t take hold.

  Genevieve remained still, calmly surveying Naomi. Naomi reached towards her, furious. But her hand hit something solid though it looked like thin air. Genevieve had created some sort of invisible cage.

  “Are you really a Descendant?” Genevieve asked mockingly, shaking her head, her words muffled beyond the invisible barrier. “I have to say I’m disappointed. I thought this would be much more of a fight. It was so easy to fool you. To get into your mind, to make you think you were listening to the Stone. This is no Incantation Stone,” Genevieve continued, lifting her other hand to reveal the Stone Naomi had seen in her vision. Now Naomi could see that it was just a plain clay tablet; it looked nothing like the genuine, ancient Incantation Stone.

  All feeling drained from her, and Naomi sank to her knees. A great and heavy weight settled onto her shoulders as fury and horror seeped into her bones. There was no second Stone. Genevieve played her well. They’d been on a false trail all along.

  “You could have been great, niece,” Genevieve said, looking regretful as she shook her head. “But you are weak and foolish. Just like my sister. You will die here with your Blood Beast.”

  Genevieve lifted her hand again, slowly drawing it back. From the haze of her shock, Naomi dimly realized that she was drawing the invisible boundary in around them . . . suffocating them. Naomi could feel her throat begin to close.

  And Genevieve vanished, leaving them alone. Fighting to breathe, Naomi crawled over to Alaric. He’d stopped writhing and now lay still on the ground, his breathing pained and ragged. Despair filled her as she reached his side. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was impossible, Genevieve’s spell sapped her remaining air. She met his blue eyes, trying to communicate with her own eyes how much she loved him, how sorry she was that she had failed, but everything was fading . . .

  Geare isi . . .

  Naomi didn’t know where the whisper came from. It called to her in the darkness, pulling her towards it.

  You don’t have much time. Geare isi. Geare isi.

  Naomi heeded the whispers. She repeated the spell in her mind. Geare isi. Geare isi. Geare isi . . .

  The darkness lifted, and the pressure around her throat subsided. Air filled her lungs, and she inhaled, opening her eyes.

  She was lying next to Alaric in the clearing. It was night now; an array of stars blanketed the black sky.

  She sat up, continuing to take in great gulps of air. Alaric began to stir, gasping as he took in air.

  “Alaric . . .” she whispered, pulling him close, holding him. “Thank God.”

  “What did she do? What happened?”

  “She created a barrier around us—I’ve never heard of a spell like that. It took our air, suffocating us. I—I managed to use a counter spell.” She thought of the strange whisper in her mind. What had caused it? Who was it? She was certain they wouldn’t have survived had she not heard it.

  His grip tightened on her, and they held each other for a few breathless moments.

  But panic soon chased away her relief. Genevieve had just proven in spades how much more powerful she was; how far ahead of them she was. How were they going to defeat her?

  Chapter 17

  Alaric drove out of the city; it was too risky to go back to Elias’s home. He was glad Naomi had the foresight to send her aunt away.

  They drove in silence. He tried to keep his calm for Naomi’s sake, but the images Genevieve put in his mind still haunted him. She’d made him see the witches he’d killed during his murderous past—and experience their emotions during their last moments of life. Shame, guilt and horror twisted his heart at the memory of what he’d seen. Somehow Genevieve had known that would affect him more than any physical torture she could induce.

  He quelled his disquietude when they arrived at a small bed-and-breakfast on the outskirts of Seattle. When they checked in, he used a thrall on the young woman who worked at the reception desk; she wouldn’t remember them if someone came looking.

  In their room, he dashed off quick messages over the private network to Casimir, Elias and Madalena telling them of the attack; he wanted to wait unt
il they arrived to give them more details.

  Naomi remained quiet the entire time, and when he looked up, she was standing next to the window, her arms wrapped around herself, her expression troubled and far away.

  He closed his laptop and stood to approach, pulling her into his arms from behind.

  “Genevieve hurt you,” Naomi said, still gazing out the window. “What did she do to you? Was it a Torture spell?”

  When he didn’t respond, she turned to face him.

  “Alaric?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is,” Naomi whispered. “What did she do to you?”

  “She made me feel the agony of every witch I’ve killed over the years,” he said, his stomach tightening at the memory. “But it was nothing less than what I deserve.”

  “You didn’t deserve that,” Naomi said, pain filling her eyes. “I should have stopped her. I should have protected you. I need to be stronger.”

  “You are the reason we’re standing here now,” Alaric said, cupping her face. “Don’t focus on your shortcomings, sweetheart. Focus on your strengths.”

  “But it wasn’t me,” she said, a look of shame darkening her expression.

  “What?”

  “I heard a whisper. It told me the words of the counter spell.”

  “Perhaps it was your subconscious.”

  “No. I’m getting used to hearing foreign whispers in my mind—and it felt foreign,” Naomi said, with a wry smile. But the smile was quickly gone, and she again looked troubled. “I’m not familiar with the spell Genevieve used on us. Without that whisper, we’d both be dead now.”

  “But we’re not,” he said, firm.

  “Alaric—“

  “Don’t focus on what could have happened. You need to rest—especially after the ordeal you went through today. We can discuss what happened with the others when they arrive.”

  She didn’t protest, and they moved to the bed, where he pulled Naomi into his arms. As she drifted off to sleep, his own worry consumed his thoughts. There was another Descendant out there with the ability to harm millions with her magic, and they had no idea where she was . . . or how to stop her.