Violet Abyss (A Blushing Death Novel Book 7)

by Suzanne M. Sabol

  “You know,” he finally said. “You were always a little too smart for your own good. Varick never gave you credit for that. Come with me,” he said, smiling seductively at her. Heat boiled and gathered in her middle as images of what he had done to her all those long decades ago flashed in her mind. “Varick isn’t worthy of you. That hot-headed ass will ruin that beautiful mind and you’ll waste away into obscurity with him.”

  She shook her head at him slowly. “I don’t think so, Isidro. I wouldn’t leave him. I know you don’t understand this but I love him. All of this is for him. Plus,” she said with a matching smirk, “I think you forget that I can play a long game too.”

  “Ah yes,” he replied, gracefully folding his body into the settee across from her. “But you must adapt. To changes in the game. New players. Have you made the changes in your game? I know I have.”

  “You’re referring to The Blushing Death,” she said, folding her arms under her breasts, fighting to keep the disdain out of her voice. The Blushing Death was a glorified boogey man. Raine had not been impressed at all with the woman and all the rumors she’d heard had made her out to be weak. The Blushing Death would not be a problem.

  “I refer to the rules of the game. They are quickly changing and you will have only one chance to get it right, as will I.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, suddenly intrigued with the idea of her and Isidro playing this game against each other. In truth, she hadn’t thought about anything other than Varick for a very long time. This game had merit and gave her a rush of excitement that she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

  “Oh, nothing,” he said as he waved her off with a simple flick of his wrist. “Absolutely nothing.

  “What?” she barked out in surprise.

  “My pieces are already in play. I think I’ll just sit, wait, and see what happens,” he said, meeting her gaze.

  “I’d wish you luck, but . . .”

  “Of course. May the best player win.”

  Chapter 28

  “Josephine,” I said, tugging on Dean’s hand behind me. “This is Trevelyan Dean.”

  “Ah,” she said with a knowing grin. “He’s yours.”

  “Yes,” I said, trying desperately to keep my embarrassment in check.

  Dean, however, didn’t fare so well. He stiffened under her gaze and his grip tightened almost painfully on my hand.

  “Hey,” I said, tapping my index finger against his grip. “I need that.”

  “She’s a . . .” Dean growled.

  “A Voodoo priestess? Yes,” Josephine said with a bright light of acceptance on her face. “I am. So much power in you. Your aura shimmers, as does hers.”

  “She’s helping Brittany and me. Please be nice,” I whispered, and there was a part of me that felt ridiculous and very normal all at the same time. I was asking my partner, the man I loved, to be nice to someone I liked. There was another layer, of course. He was Gaoh and didn’t trust anyone outside the Pack, especially witches, and powerful ones at that. But, under it all, I was asking Dean to trust me. Glancing down at me, his unease played across his face. Brittany was ours and he protected her, no matter how powerful she was.

  As he met my gaze, I understood he wasn’t sure he could protect Brittany or me from Josephine and her magic. I clasped my other hand over his as he squeezed mine and tried to reassure him.

  He nodded and eased up on his grip. Sometimes I got so annoyed with having to placate and work around both the Alpha males in my life. It was exhausting. But other times, I felt like a normal person, just trying to make our relationship work. Sometimes, like now, we understood each other. And others, I wasn’t sure about anything but we kept trying. I was confident in the fact that they wouldn’t give up on me and I wouldn’t give up on them.

  I turned to Josephine who watched the silent exchange with a knowing grin. I cleared my throat and released Dean’s hand. “We have a slight problem that we need your help with. Would you mind looking at some pictures?”

  “If I can help, I will.” She led us through the house to the back deck again.

  Brittany, Josephine, and I sat at the patio table. Dean had told Aubrey and Steve to get some rest and that he would take point. I wondered if he was regretting that decision so close to a Voodoo Priestess. He was hard to read as he stood gazing out over the wide expanse of sugarcane fields. His back was straight, his shoulders tight, and his hands clasped in a white-knuckle grip in front of him. He wouldn’t be comfortable until we left this plantation, but for those he loved, Dean would wait, watch, and protect.

  The same young woman brought out a tray filled with two pitchers again. One lemonade and the second sweet tea. Brittany poured lemonade for the both of us and I waved off any for Dean. He was a straight water or beer guy.

  I dug in my back pocket of my jeans and drew out the printed pictures of the wards from Konyam’s house. Laying them out on the table before Josephine, I said, “Do you know what these are?”

  She waved the woman away and laid the five photos out on the table before her. “Where are these?”

  “In a home in the Garden District,” I answered.

  “Amazing. These are death wards and potent ones.”

  “Death wards?” Brittany asked, scooting her chair closer to Josephine’s side, peeking over her shoulder.

  “Oui,” she answered, turning the pages in Brittany’s direction. “Do ya see this symbol here? Where the pyramid’s touch at the center?”

  Brittany nodded.

  “And here, where the circle encompasses that juncture?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded.

  “The circle is the entity; the house, the room or whatever space the ward is ta protect. The pyramid and the inverted pyramid meeting at the smallest point in the center of that circle is da meeting of life and death.”

  “Okay.” Brittany’s excitement was palpable. She couldn’t take her eyes off the photo as Josephine worked her through the pieces of the ward.

  “Now, this is the important piece. The two lines that intersect da circle at the exact point of the pyramids’ junction . . .”

  “Uh-huh. The squiggly bits.”

  “Oui,” Josephine said with an amused grin in Brittany’s direction. “Da squiggly bits. That is da trigger.”

  “What’s it do?” Brittany asked with an excited urgency in her question.

  “Eliminates the object of da pyramids.”

  “Eliminates?” Brittany asked, her brow furrowed as she sat back in her chair.

  “Kills,” Dean growled from behind me.

  “Oui.”

  “I don’t understand,” Brittany said, glancing from Josephine to Dean and then finally to me.

  “If we breach the perimeter of Konyam’s house, the ward is set up to eliminate Ev. The magic will kill him. We’re the trigger.” Sitting back in my chair, I huffed my frustration.

  “That’s why,” Dean snorted behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at him and knew what he was thinking.

  “What?” Brittany asked.

  “Why they haven’t killed him yet,” I answered.

  Brittany shook her head and started to open her mouth, either for a question or to argue but was interrupted by Dean.

  “They’re waiting for us to do it.”

  Josephine blew out a long, exasperated breath. “Dat’s diabolical.”

  “That’s vampire politics,” I growled. “Welcome to my world.”

  Fucking vampires.

  Werewolves were straightforward. If you offended them, they just attacked you. Straight up. No underhanded bullshit. Their power plays were instantaneous. Vampires, on the other hand, manipulated, bent the truth, and altered the rules to within an inch of their fucking lives. The wards guar
anteed that if Ev died, it was our fault and any support we had garnered would evaporate if we attacked in retribution. After all, we’d killed him. Not Konyam.

  “How do I counter them?” Brittany asked with not an ounce of hesitation. I couldn’t help but be proud of her. There had been a time when Brittany had stood frozen in the face of evil. And because of that fear, her mother and another witch of her coven had died. I could see the light of determination in her that hadn’t been there before. She would never let that happen again. I had been worried. I wasn’t anymore.

  “You have enough power to counter them,” Josephine said, eyeing the girl warily.

  “But?” Dean asked, picking up on the unsaid concern.

  “Learning the spell and controlling it, those are two very different things. She is young and untried. This would require a lot of power. A great deal of concentrated power and control.”

  “An anchor?” Dean offered as if he’d been working witchcraft his entire life.

  Josephine’s eyes widened in surprise and I have to admit, I was surprised too. Sometimes the depths of Dean’s knowledge surprised me. It wasn’t that I thought he was stupid. To the contrary, I knew him to be a highly intelligent man. He just didn’t verbalize and when he did, his statements tended to shock the whole room.

  “It could work,” Josephine replied, glancing from Brittany to me and back again. “Otherwise, if she can’t control this much magic and the counter spell, she could destroy all of us.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “She most likely, can’t break them. But a less dangerous way would be to create a window to climb through. Create a hole in the ward to remove the object at its focus.” She took a sip of her sweet tea and placed the cool condensation against her brow as she continued. “She will be convincing the ward that the ward’s focus is still there.”

  “A bait and switch game,” Dean huffed and the witch nodded.

  “And if she loses control?” I asked.

  Josephine put the glass down and peered directly at Brittany. “Imagine a nuclear bomb going off for those of us that are . . . other.”

  “Annihilation?” Dean asked, and Josephine nodded.

  “Um, that sounds super bad. So, yeah, let’s have an anchor. Where do I get one?”

  “You already have one,” Josephine said with a smirk as she met my gaze.

  I sighed and slumped back in my chair. God-Fucking-Damn-It! Every God-Damned-Time. I knew there was a scowl on my face and that my shoulders had fallen in resignation. It was always me. If there was a sacrifice to be made, then I had to make it. I even understood that I didn’t really have a choice. If this would get Ev back and keep everyone safe, I’d do this and more. There was a part of me that wished, for once, it could be someone else. Something else. But I knew better. Even if it had been someone else, I would’ve found a way not to risk them. That’s just who I was. Dean and Patrick knew that too. I didn’t even have to turn around to know Dean had stiffened. Fear and anger radiated off of him as if it was a living, breathing thing. Sighing and closing my eyes for a peaceful moment, sometimes I wished that I could make life easier on Dean and Patrick. All I seemed to do was make it that much more difficult.

  “Okay,” I said weary. “What do we do?”

  Chapter 29

  We’d moved down into the same clearing in the cane. Well away from the prying eyes of the house, we had room to move and make mistakes that wouldn’t, say, kill anyone.

  Dean followed, unwilling to leave me or Brittany alone with the Voodoo Priestess. I had the distinct feeling he wouldn’t allow us to come out here anymore without some protection stronger than Ev. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, working it out. And if I knew my mate, only he or Garrett would do to protect us. Probably not even Garrett.

  Ignoring the raging beast behind me, there was nothing I could do about it anyway, I stood in the center of the clearing. Josephine and Brittany stood together with the sun to their backs along the edge of the cane.

  “Close your eyes,” Josephine whispered to Brittany. “Imagine the magic as something whole, a person all of its own. You must convince it to do your will instead of its own. Magic is neither good nor bad, neither black nor white. Magic is influenced by the practitioner. You must convince this magic to do what you want without corrupting it or it corrupting you.”

  “Okay,” Brittany said determined. “Let’s give it a go.”

  A soft wind, warm and controlled, blew around me. It tingled up my arms as my hair and clothing remained still and settled. The wind of magic encircled me, coating me with prickling tendrils of power from the top of my head down to my toes as it looked for a way to . . . attach. A slight pressure here and another there, as Brittany’s spell searched for a foothold. Her magic stung across my skin as it finally found a place to latch onto. At the curve of my neck and shoulder, where Patrick had first marked me as his, her power seeped beneath my aura and took root. I cringed at the sensation of being invaded, as if a host of bugs crawled beneath my skin.

  Her eyes widened in shock as I let my control slip and power barreled over both of us. “OMG,” she shrieked. How do you walk around with all that chaos?”

  “What?” I snapped, followed by a sigh of relief as the prickly feeling of having a thousand bugs beneath my skin left me. Alone with my own magic again, the tension unknotted in my stomach.

  “Ta you,” Josephine said, turning toward Brit. “Her power is unruly and messy but ta her, she’s known nothing else. It is all a part of her.

  “But I can’t use her magic. It’s too . . .” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Unpredictable. That’s the only real way to describe it.”

  “NO!” Josephine’s exclamation made all of us stop and stare. “Ya don’t use her magic, use her strength. Ya can’t wield her brand of magic. It is too different from yours. She is a rock in the shifting sea of magic. You are a steady stream flowing through the mountains. The two do not mix. However, she can make your magic more potent.”

  “What chaos?” I huffed, suddenly insulted. I couldn’t even say why.

  “Da fae magic . . .” Josephine began.

  “Baba Yaga,” Dean growled from his position along the edge of the cane.

  “Oui. Dat is a wild magic. It is the embodiment of nature, light and dark all in one. Because yours comes from da Serpent of Winter, it has a dark taint. However, that is not the only power you carry. Whatever you are, dat bit of you dat is magic is neither light nor dark but both equally. Normally, those two would be in competition for survival.”

  “Normally?” I asked, swatting a bug buzzing before my nose. “They’re not?”

  “No,” she answered and stepped between Brittany and I. “Dey have found a harmony.”

  “Britt said chaos?” Dean asked.

  “Oui. Da energy radiating off of Dahlia is erratic. Depending on which is at da forefront, determines da fluctuations of her particular flavors of power. Brittany’s magic jumps periodically. Dahlia’s, however, is a constant flow of energy dat moves with her and her needs.”

  She patted Brittany’s arm beside her. “Yours is a part of you and ya have control over it for the most part. Ya simply don’t know how ta use it.” She pointed at me. “She does not. But dat doesn’t seem to be a problem because da energies aren’t tearing her ta pieces either.”

  “They like her,” Brittany offered as if surprised that anything could like me.

  “In a manner of speakin’, yes.” Josephine circled back around Brittany and stood beside her. Pointing at me, she said, “She has da capacity for a great deal of magic and there is room for all. There is no competition for survival.”

  “You make me sound like an empty bucket,” I snapped.

  “Or a host,” Dean snorted behind me.

  I whipped my head arou
nd and glared at him but he just smirked back as if he knew he was safe. And damn it, he was.

  “Both are apt descriptions.” Meeting my gaze, Josephine’s irises suddenly grew very dark. “And ya have da capacity for more.”

  Chapter 30

  “Oh good,” I said slumping my shoulders in resignation. Anger flared in the pit of my stomach. “As if having the power of a bat-shit crazy witch with a God complex wasn’t bad enough? Now, you’re telling me that there could be more shit out there just waiting to hop on this fucking gravy train.”

  “Cool,” Brittany said.

  I turned and pointed my finger at her. “No! Not cool,” I shouted and suddenly, I felt very much like my mother and that pissed me off more. “What’s next? This stupid fucking cup? I just want to go home and live our lives without all this extra bullshit.”

  “It’s a chalice,” Brittany said, and I swear to Christ Almighty, I almost slugged her.

  “A chalice?” Josephine asked, her tone wary as her gaze narrowed.

  “Yeah, this Isis Chalice thingy is missing and Dahlia’s trying to scope it out.”

  “It can’t be missin’,” she whispered. “I would‘ve felt it.”

  “Felt what?” Dean’s growled question reverberated through the cane as his power swept over us in a scorching wind.

  “You gotta stop doing that,” Brittany whispered, wiping the sweat that had beaded across her forehead away.

  Josephine met his gaze with defiance in her solid stance but her eyes belied the fear she felt. “If da wards for da Chalice’s containment had been broken, I would’ve felt it.”

  “Why?” I asked but I was afraid I already knew the answer.

  “I created dat chamber it rests in for Raine, Louisiana’s vampire mistress.”