Black Magic Sanction (39 page)

"Stop," I whispered, and Pierce's thoughts wound into my own, holding me to the task.

"Stay the course," he said, eyes fixed on mine with an eerie intensity. "Hold."

"Everyone kills to live," Ivy whispered, vampire incense pulling through me to then vanish.

Not me,
I thought, my fingers hurting where Ceri gripped them, refusing to let me go.

"Accendere!"
she shouted victoriously, finishing the curse.

I stumbled as I jerked from them, but it was too late. Stunned, I felt the black curse tear through my brain like a heated knife, searing the knowledge into my memory. Ceri gasped, her head thrown back as the curse escaped Pierce's bubble. As if in slow motion, I followed it with a ribbon of thought, the first tendrils of silver heat darting to find the edges of the confines of my circle, widening to fill the space, crawling over the inside of the dome, snaking up the tree to crisp the leaves. The ground smoked, the wet earth steamed to show the expanding curse.

I was going to burn everything aboveground.
Everyone kills to live,
echoed in my mind.

Not me.
Panicked, I threw myself from Pierce and Ceri, hitting the interior shell of Pierce's bubble and staring at them in horror.
Not me!

"No!" I shouted, reaching out for the curse. I had seen its creation. I could call it back.

"Rachel?" Ceri called, eyes wide as she felt something shift.

Pierce stared at me. "Rachel, no!" he cried as if knowing what I was going to do.

Eyes wide, I reached for the curse, wrapped my will around it—and pulled it back.

Crap. This was really going to hurt.

With the sensation of fire, the curse rebounded into me, backlashing in my mind as if it were alive, angry to be jerked home.
Not me!
I thought as bursts of green flame lit and died outside Pierce's circle, showing where fragile wings shivered into flame. A terrible cry went up as the fairies dropped to the burning earth, and still I pulled, taking it into myself. They were dying. My head flung back and I screamed so I wouldn't go mad with the pain.

And when I had it all, when I had everything that I could bear, I pushed the curse back into the ley line. I emptied everything into it, letting go of the line with a quickness that curled me into myself, hurt. My outer circle dropped, and I took a sobbing breath in the sudden quiet.

The pain vanished from my mind, and I shook as I fell to the wet ground.
What have I become in the name of love? Of friendship?

"Rachel!" Ivy exclaimed, but it was Pierce's arms that slipped around me, smelling of witch and power.

The imbalance hit, and I clenched anew, teeth gritting as I took it all. This was mine. The filth, the scum. All of it. And I heard Pierce sigh as I shuddered and accepted the entirety of the smut. I deserved it.

"What did you do!" Ceri shouted, angry. I could see her tiny feet as I lay in Pierce's arms, the pain now only a memory but my panic and fear growing.
What have I become?

"Rachel! What did you do!" the elf said again, demanding my attention.

I looked up, wiping my eyes. "Is Jenks okay?" I whispered.

From the edge of the circle, Ivy said, "He's still underground. Are you okay?"

"She misaligned it!" Ceri shouted, furious as she stomped her foot. "And she did it intentionally! They're still alive! Never has anyone misaligned my work, never!"

They were alive?
I looked up, not believing. My throat was raw and my muscles felt like rubber bands. The fairies were alive!

"It wasn't misaligned," Pierce said as he eased me to the ground and stood. Hands at his side, he looked irate. "She drew it back."

"Why!" Ceri shouted. "I told her Jenks would survive!"

"I have no idea," Pierce said, standing beside me as my butt got wet from the grass.

"Jenks," I whispered, and I felt Pierce let go of the line and his circle drop. The breath of a new day stained with the stink of burning shifted my hair, and I looked for the bright glitter of pixy wings. Outside Pierce's circle, paths of ash showed where the spell had started to take hold, but the garden was green. Small voices rose in pain, and my heart clenched.

Where is Jenks?
My breath came in a sob when Pierce crouched before me, his unburnt hand reaching to wipe my tears away. "Rachel," he said, his hand damp when he took mine to help me rise. "We're in deeper trouble now. Best face it on your feet."

Numb, I let him draw me to a shaky stand. "Jenks!" I shouted. God, had I killed them?

Pixy wings exploded from the stump. I dropped back, relief almost making me pass out. They were okay. All of them. But as they darted over the garden, shrieks of fear rang out. My face went cold. Shit, they were killing the grounded fairies.

"Jenks! No!" I shouted. "It's done! Stop! Damn it, Jenks, stop it! Don't kill them!"

Jenks was atop his stump, having dragged a sallow-faced fairy with him. He turned to me in disgust, his sword at the helpless warrior's neck. The fairy's eyes were wide and a nasty ooze was puddling at his feet—the remains of his wings.

"Jenks...," I pleaded, and with a sour look, the pixy threw his blade in the air to shift his grip. With no fanfare, he gave the leader of the swarm a vicious thunk on the head. The fairy's eyes rolled up and a ribbon of red blood leaked out.

"Damn it, Rache," Jenks said as he let the fairy drop at his feet. "Why do you make things so difficult?"

"Thank you," I whispered, kneeling to put our eyes on the same level.

"Round them up. Tie them down!" Jenks shouted, and his kids complained as he took to the air, seeming to pull me to my feet as well. Blood smeared him, and wiping his sword he said, "TJiis is going to be trouble, Rache. You should have let me kill them."

I started backing away, my gaze darting over the garden. He was angry, motions quick as he flitted away, savage and stinking of death. His kids were cruelly driving the flightless fairies together with torments and cuts. It was survival, but it was scaring me.

My gaze touched on Ceri, the hem of her dress shaking. I'd ruined her curse—a black curse as foul as a hanging corpse. Ivy's eyes were black as she tried to regain control of her emotions, driven to the brink by the aggression around her, her grimed sword on the grass beside her. And Pierce stood watching me, a sad, tired expression in his eyes.

What am I doing? Who are these people I thought I knew, crying for death, lusting for it?

"I have to go," I whispered, backing up farther yet.

Ivy's eyes flashed even blacker, and Ceri turned, her expression hot with anger.

"Inside," I added so they wouldn't think I was leaving. "I need some water."

I headed for the porch, snatching up Rex so she wouldn't eat any of the grounded fairies.

Maybe I should have gone into the ever-after. Even Al is better than this.

T
he slamming of the screen door behind me jumped through me like a spark. I had to get away. I had to go somewhere to regroup, figure out what had just happened. But as I stood in the silence, there was no peace in the living room. Ivy's couch was heady with vampire incense and memories. Leaving wet footprints, I paced into the kitchen.

My sneakers squeaked to a halt, and my heart pounded as I listened to the calls of the pixies through the window. The blue lights on the fridge's ice maker glowed, and I looked at the picture of me and Jenks standing before the bridge at Mackinaw. But the kitchen held no comfort even though my glinting spell pots and herbs made it mine. It was Ivy's, too, and the thought of her black eyes savage with the need to survive was too fresh.

Spinning, I walked past my room to the sanctuary. The hint of burnt amber coming from my bathroom and the blanket Al had given me—still waiting to be washed—seemed like a veil I had to push through, and I held my breath until I got to the wide space. As I stood at the end of the hall, the whispers of pixies at play seemed to echo from my past, the bright room a pleasant mix of all three of us and the memory of Kisten. There was no comfort here.

I was trapped by everything I cared about. I wanted to be cocooned, safe, but my security had always been the church and those in it. Right now, they were what was knotting my gut.

At a loss, I collapsed on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest and trying to find something to ease the ache. Sniffing back a tear of frustration, I thought of Al's kitchen and the hours I'd spent there in front of the smaller hearth, in the quiet with Mr. Fish and my own thoughts to keep me company. There was a peaceful security there, with the world pushed to the edges as I learned something new, gaining satisfaction and a grudging "passable" from the very demon I'd once been terrified of. I still was, but it was an old terror now, like growing up thinking you weren't going to see the next spring.

There was a scuffing at the top of the hall. Forehead on my drawn-up knees, I didn't look.

"Rachel?"

It was Pierce, and my head started to hurt. "Go away," I said. It had been his idea.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, and I lifted my head when he started to walk away.

"Wait," I blurted out, remembering the sorrow in his eyes when he had suggested the curse. He'd used it before. Maybe he knew how to justify it. "Don't go," I whispered.

Slowly he turned. Heartache showed on his pinched brow. For me? I
wondered. For his part in helping me lose my innocence? The question of whether I'd use black magic to save those I loved had been answered, and I didn't know how to feel about it.

I watched Pierce's grace as he came back and sat across from me, perched on the edge of the chair with the coffee table between us. Exhaling, he put his elbows on his knees and looked at his hand, burnt and sore. I could smell the garden on him. It mixed with his redwood-witch smell, strong for just having done high magic—
black
magic.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, guilty for thinking only of myself. "Bis? Jenks's kids?"

Pierce tossed the hair from his eyes. "Three of Jenks's kids were savaged but will mend. Jenks is death on as a strategist."

I put my feet on the floor and heaved to a stand, tired. "I should see if I can help," I said, even as I dreaded going back out there.

Pierce rose with me. "They're fine," he said, taking my fingers with his unburnt hand to give his words more strength. "It's you I'm powerful worried about."

The concern in his eyes caused my eyes to well. Damn it, I wasn't going to cry—even if I'd almost wiped out an entire clan of people. Pierce reached out, and I drew back. I needed something, but not that. I didn't deserve the comfort of another person. And not him. It would be too easy, and it might not be real.

Pierce's hand dropped, his expression becoming even more concerned as he saw my fear. "Talk to me," he said simply.

That... I could do, and I looked at him miserably as the band around my chest tightened. He was probably the only person who might understand. "I don't know anything anymore," I whispered. "I almost killed them. Pierce,
what am I doing
⁷
.
I am exactly what they call me. A black witch. Maybe I should just go with it. Go hide in the ever-after with Al. Leave my friends... " The tears started to well again. Leaving was not what I wanted.

Smiling faintly, he sat down, pulling me down with his mere presence. He didn't say a thing as I sat across from him and pulled my knees to my chin, but just that he was listening without judgment was enough to make me cry. I knew Jenks had killed before to protect his family. Ceri was a bloodthirsty savage despite her elegant charm and beauty—and always had been. Ivy was Ivy. I wasn't going to pretend that Pierce wasn't capable of killing someone. It was the thought of me killing someone I couldn't handle.

"I didn't want to be like this," I said softly.

"It was a decision," he said, safe and nonconfrontational.

"A decision to kill someone," I said bitterly. "With magic." That's all the curse did. There was no pretending that it was to heat bathwater or start the grill. It was able to break through an aura to burn someone alive—black magic no matter how you looked at it.

"You saved Jenks and his family," he offered. "Would you rather they be dead?"

I pulled back, not liking what I was feeling. "There had to have been a better way," I said dryly, my gaze going past him to the burnt pool table.

"Perhaps," he said slowly. "I swan I wouldVe killed them straight out to keep Jenks from making a die of it and you safe. I still think allowing them to live is a mistake. It remains to see if you are strong enough to see it through. And how."

"It wasn't a mistake," I said, affronted, and he sighed, burnt hand held loosely in the other as he looked down at them. Okay, maybe it was a mistake, but f d make it again in a heartbeat. Or maybe find another way to begin with. There just wasn't an answer that I liked, and exhausted in mind and body, I said, "They're right." Pierce's eyes met mine, and I added, "Vivian. Brooke. Everyone. I'm a demon. I deserve what they're trying to do to me." I raised a hand and let it fall, staring at it on my lap and wondering if I could smell burnt amber on it. "I'm filthy."