by KB Anne
Alaric runs his hands through his hair. “But I was tortured by Lizzie, who we’ve established is only aligned with Clayone.” His eyes widen as he glances at Ryan. “Oh . . .”
Ryan stumbles backward. “Me? I’m not telling Breas or Kensey anything. I’m sided with all of you.”
I reach out and send calming energy into him. His shoulders immediately relax. “Yes, but a tracking spell could be placed on you without your knowing. May I?”
He pulls his lips in and nods.
I send out a spell to search him. It settles on his head. “I wonder if they can see through your eyes, like what Sphinx did to me.”
Nothing is like me.
“True story, buddy. Ryan, I’m going to undo the spell.”
“Will it hurt?”
“It shouldn’t. Hold on to someone if you want.”
He reaches out for Lizzie. Her eyes bulge like she can’t believe he’d choose her. Neither can I, but love is love.
“Tóg treaspáis,” I chant. The spell lifts from his head and hovers in the air before exploding. “It’s gone.”
“Okay,” Scott says, rubbing his hands together. “Can we get back on the road and get this over with? I want to get home as soon as possible.”
He clings to the possibility that Caer will return any minute. With my gift of sight, I know she won’t return until Balor is dead, but I won’t tell Scott that.
We jump back in the truck.
“We’ve got a problem,” Alaric says, glancing in the rearview mirror.
I turn around to peek out the back window. Three cars are speeding up the road toward us.
Alaric throws the truck in gear and hits the gas. “Apparently, they know where we’re headed.”
Ryan puts his head in his hands. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it. This hunk of junk can go where no car can,” Scott says.
Except that we don’t know where the Kilkenny witches are, and with two evil witches, a god, and their minions on our tail, we won’t exactly be able to go door to door.
I scoot away from Alaric. “Keep driving fast. Alert me if they get close.”
“Where are you going?” he asks in alarm.
“I’m going to search for the coven with Sphinx’s help.”
Sphinx purrs as I scratch him behind the ears. Fine.
I open my chest and rest my palms facing upward on my lap, acknowledging to the universe that I am open to whatever it has to offer. I breathe in and out, in and out, trying to remain calm and relaxed while we’re being hunted, but it’s easier said than done.
Sphinx rests his paw on my leg. Relax. They’re far away.
They are? I ask, almost opening my eyes to check.
Well, far enough away for you to vision travel.
That’s what it’s called?
Focus please.
And I do. I close my eyes and keep breathing in and out. Soon I slip away from the cramped truck and focus on my third eye, forgetting about the bumpy road and the people chasing us. All the while I keep breathing in and out, in and out.
I wrap my fingers around the spell book crystal and concentrate on the Kilkenny witches. In my mind, I wander the streets of Kilkenny. The bright colors of the buildings call to me in a way no town ever has. It’s because of the magic. It’s everywhere, but nowhere. Hidden from view, but present. Chanting circles appear before me, a group of men and women of Caribbean descent in a room filled with dried herbs and candles. The heavy scent of incense hangs in the air, but I can’t place it. It’s an herb I’m unfamiliar with. I remove myself from the circle and start backing up so I can step outside and visualize the location.
The leader opens her eyes and focuses on me. “No!” she shouts.
“I’m sorry. I have to,” I whisper, backing away from her.
“No!” she shouts again and breaks the circle.
Abruptly, I return to the interior of the truck, gasping for breath.
“Well?” Ryan asks hopefully.
“I have an idea,” I tell him, which isn’t lying but it’s not entirely truthful either.
No, the leader shouts in my ear.
If it weren’t for Lizzie, I’d listen to them, but we’re going to Kilkenny, and we’re finding those witches.
“Incoming,” Scott shouts two seconds before a car slams into us.
“That’s gotta be Declan. So much for his submission. The traitor,” Alaric snarls.
He’s the only one without magic, so it makes sense.
“Wish we’d restrained him. I got a bit entangled,” I reply. “Cover me!” I turn around and clutch the bench seat as Alaric hits the gas. Declan slams into us again.
“Stad de,” I shout.
Declan’s car swerves off the road and over the embankment.
“That worked well,” Scott says in appreciation. “Do it again.”
“Stad de,” I shout and send two blasts at the two other cars speeding up to take Declan’s place. The spells bounce off the vehicles.
“Shoot, they’re protected.”
“Hold on,” Alaric says as he spins the truck to the right. He throws his left arm around me to keep me in place.
The two cars easily make the turn.
“I can’t lose them. This truck can’t go as fast as them.”
“Let me try to disable the protection spells.”
I form a ball of energy and fling it out the window. It smashes on the black car’s windshield. The car fishtails, eventually flying off the road and down another embankment.
That leaves the red sports car. Breas is driving while Kensey murmurs something.
“Get out of the way,” I shout, but it’s too late. The spell shoots out our back tires, and now we’re fishtailing. Alaric counteracts the motion and rights the truck rather impressively.
“Gigi, take the wheel,” he shouts.
“What? This isn’t time for country song lyrics.”
“Trust me, okay?”
I take the steering wheel from him. He sticks his head out the window and climbs onto the roof.
“What is he . . . ?” Scott says. “He jumped!”
“What?” I turn around to see Alaric land on the red car’s hood. The truck starts fishtailing again.
“Gigi, the wheel,” Ryan shouts, leaping over the seat to grab it.
“I got it, I got it,” I insist, but Ryan keeps his hands firmly on the wheel with his arms around me.
“Scott, what’s going on back there?”
“Well, right now he’s ripping off the roof of the car.”
“What?” I turn around again and find my face smashed into Ryan’s chest.
“Focus, Gigi, focus.”
“He’s got Breas by the throat and is—wow, he’s strong—throwing him out of the roof.”
“What’s Kensey doing?”
“She’s murmuring something. Fight it, Alaric, fight it,” he says under his breath.
“Stad de,” I scream and throw it over Ryan’s head.
Tires screech behind me. I slam on the brake, throw the truck in park, and leap out the door.
Smoke spirals from the engine of the sports car. There’s a dent in the windshield from where Kensey’s head hit. The bloodstains are proof that at least her body is human. Whether the Fomorian witch can sustain that type of impact is beyond me.
“Alaric. Where’s Alaric?” I search wildly for him, growing more and more panicked.
“Gi, over there,” Ryan says and points toward Alaric’s slumped frame in the grass at least a hundred meters from the car.
“Alaric,” I shout as I run toward him. He’s not moving. Why hasn’t he moved? “Múscail ardaigh.”
When I finally reach him, I probe his body, searching for injuries. “Alaric, are you all right?”
He winces as he opens one eye. “How about you don’t poke me so hard?”
“Sorry,” I whisper and then press my lips to his. I push healing energy into him while I do it.
&nbs
p; He smiles when I release him. “No one kisses like you do.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
Ryan kneels beside him. “Dude, you okay? I’ve only seen the Hulk tear apart a car like that and successfully walk away.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m successfully walking away yet. Just give me a few minutes.”
“You’ve got a few seconds, because the next round is starting in less than a minute,” Scott says as he arrives with Lizzie.
In the distance, it looks like a mini dust tornado is coming our way. “What about Sphinx? Sphinx!” I shout.
Right here.
He rubs against my leg.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Smart girl.
24
Hide and Seek
Alaric’s fast recovery proves he isn’t the least bit human. My magical kiss helped, but being a part-Fae werewolf explains his ability to heal quickly. Not to mention his Otherworldly beauty, his athletic prowess, and all the other qualities that make him Alaric.
With the dust storm descending on us, there’s no time to get back to the truck, but we need to move fast. Alaric scoops me on his back, Ryan scoops up Lizzie, Scott grabs Sphinx, and the three of them enlist their super speed to hightail it toward a run-down house in the distance.
Are we hiding in there? Might be a tad obvious, I say in Alaric’s mind.
It’ll give us enough time to discuss where we should go next. We’re nearly inside Kilkenny’s town limits, Alaric thinks, and I relay it to the rest of them telepathically. Heck, I’ve got nothing else do as my boyfriend carries me.
I send out feelers to see if the house is safe. The spell bounces off a shield or something and returns to me. Something magical is occurring there, and we don’t have time to find out what.
Skip it. Keep going.
Not one of them questions me or complains. They trust me implicitly, which is empowering and unnerving at the same time.
In the distance there’s another old house with peeling paint and a fallen front porch. Nothing says “Creepy Serial Killer Lives Here” like a house in the middle of nowhere with peeling paint and a fallen-down porch.
I send out another feeler. It enters the house, searches the rooms, and returns to me without finding anything dangerous, including ax murderers.
The one with the broken porch.
We slow down and approach the house. Alaric clutches my leg to keep me from climbing off, but I surprise him with a shot of electricity. His hand jerks away, and I jump off. I step cautiously onto the front porch.
“Be careful,” Scott warns.
I roll my eyes. “No kidding, Sherlock.”
“Is it okay?” Ryan asks. “Because otherwise we need to book it.”
A strange energy ripples through me as I approach the door. “Something is magical here too, but why didn’t my spell find anything?”
I grip the door, sensing a presence on the other side of it, and fling it open.
An ethereal figure in a blood-stained white dress flies out at me. “Get out!”
I throw up my hand and the ghostly figure disappears.
“Really? That’s supposed to scare me?” I ask the house. “We’re coming to request assistance. I have something you want.” I hold out the spell book crystal.
Silence greets me, but someone is listening.
Creaking and moaning follow. A column splits in half and the front porch collapses.
Alaric leaps onto the porch, grabs me, and launches off before the roof crashes down on us. That is the second roof to almost crush me. I’m hoping it’s not the beginning of some new trend. Alaric brushes off the dust and construction debris covering me.
Ryan studies me. “Are you sure they’re going to help us?”
I glance back at the house. “I’ve got something they want.”
He gapes at the house. “If that’s how they treat their friends, what do they do to their enemies?”
Scott puts his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “I’ve learned not to ask those types of questions.”
We take off toward the town as if our life depends on it, because Lizzie’s does.
Visitors from all over the world come to Kilkenny to admire the quaint architecture and the vivid colors of the homes. There are hanging plants and flower boxes on every house, freshly painted front doors, and often lights in the front windows, a universal welcome to guests, though rarely does anyone take the owners up on the invitation anymore. We live in a different time, but it is a tradition worth keeping.
“Which one is it?” Scott asks, absorbing the positive energy of the town without realizing he’s even doing so.
“That one,” I whisper, pointing to the only neglected house on the street. It had a fresh coat of paint, albeit fifty or more years ago, and the black door and dark windows signify to visitors to stay away.
“It doesn’t look like anyone lives there,” Ryan says.
“That’s the place all right,” Alaric whispers. He’s familiar with all sorts of magic after living with Carman and Calliope for all those years.
I finger the crystals on my neck. I’ve got what you want.
A breeze stings my cheek as it whips past. Not exactly a welcome, but a get-the-eff-out warning would be much more aggressive.
“Careful,” Scott murmurs to me as I press my hand to the front door.
As my palm touches the wood, the protective spells making the house look old and run-down lift for all of us standing in front of the door. The exterior is a happy yellow, much like the shade Gram used in our kitchen. The front door is a brilliant orange, and blooming flowers spill from every window box and planter.
“Wow,” Ryan whispers.
I glance over my shoulder at the four of them staring up at the building. “Come on.”
The rotten floorboards inside turn to a rich mahogany as I step on them. The broken stair railings straighten and gleam. It would be all too easy to stand in awe and take in the glamour receding before our eyes, but we don’t have a lot of time. The Storm Moon is fast approaching, and the more time we spend trying to fix Lizzie, the less time we’ll have preparing for battle.
A woman with a colorful head wrap and a matching dress appears before us. She’s gorgeous by any standard, living or otherwise, except that she isn’t living. Her appearance is airy and ghostly.
“You were told not to come here,” her voice echoes through the room.
“As I told your friend, I have something you want.” I lift the spell book crystal.
Her eyes fall to it, and she licks her lips. Her shimmery eyes meet mine. “How do you know we want it?”
“Just a guess.”
She shoves out her hand. “Give it to me and be on your way, or else.”
I tuck the crystal beneath my shirt and zip my leather jacket just in case. “Or else what?”
“There will be consequences.”
I cross my arms. “There are always consequences, especially if you anger a goddess.”
“How dare you,” she says, her presence flickering.
“How dare you,” I challenge her.
She disappears before our eyes.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t upset the spirits,” Scott whispers.
“Trust me. I got this.” I spin around three times in one direction, then three in the other. “Reveal yourselves.”
The house hisses and creaks.
“Here we go again,” Ryan says under his breath.
I stand tall. Well, tall for me. “It’s fine.”
Screams project from the walls. The heavy scent from my vision fills the air.
Crackle. Pop. Whoosh. A blinding light explodes, forcing us to close our eyes. When we open them, there stands the coven from my vision, encircling us.
“I told you not to come,” the leader says.
I realize the “ghost” that greeted us was not a ghost at all. She was a projection of the coven leader. In person, she is absolutely stunning.
I tap on my chest wh
ere the spell book crystal rests underneath my zipped jacket. “And I told you I have something you want.”
“Why would you give it to us? We don’t interact with your kind.”
“My kind? All people are my kind. The coven in Kildare practices much of the same magic as you. They share many of the same affinities to the Elements as you.”
She stomps on the floor. “They have never tried to seek us out before.”
“Well, if I may?” I ask, reaching for the crystal.
She nods.
I withdraw the crystal and tap on it to return it to its true form.
“They did not know you existed. This spell book reads to me in Gaelic, but I’m sure to you, it would read much differently.”
“There is dark magic in that book,” she says, shaking her head.
“I know. That’s why my grandmother had it hidden in her attic floorboards. I didn’t know how powerful it was at the time.”
“You lived in ignorance.”
Tell me something I don’t know. “I did. I don’t anymore. I’ve embraced my true self.” I allow myself to glow with the light emanating inside of me.
The leader kneels before me. Her coven follows.
“Forgive my ingratitude, I had to be sure. I am Suzanne, and it is an honor to have you in our presence,” she says with her face toward the floor.
It’s just like back in Vernal Falls, when all the coven members gathered at Dad’s summons and I had a steady stream of believers paying their respects to me. “Please don’t,” I whisper. “Please stand as my equal, for I am as human as all of you.”
“Rise,” Suzanne says to her coven.
“Thank you.”
“What is it that you seek?”
I glance over at Lizzie. Her eyes keep pulsing between red and hazel.
“Giselle,” Suzanne says.
A young woman whose eyes are filled with understanding approaches us. She stops in front of Lizzie, closes her eyes, and inhales before proceeding toward Alaric. I remember Keturah, Caer, and the other faeries sniffing Alaric. They had said he was something other but didn’t realize he was Fae at the time. Clayone’s blood must mask Naisha’s, or maybe she spelled his blood with a glamour. And I obviously can’t smell shit.
Giselle closes her eyes again and inhales. Her eyes pulse behind her closed lids.
