Legacy & Spellbound (31 page)

She clasped his hand and willed her energy to mingle with his, willed her battered body to aid his so that they might share each other's pain and help heal each other. A strangled sob from him was proof that it was working, and tears stung her eyes as his pain washed through her. He, too, was bruised and broken, and her cracked ribs groaned in sympathy with his.

He has borne so much for me, because he loves me
. Tommy didn't have to be here, but he was. With a rush of conviction she knew that he would always be there, and that with the last breath he drew he would be calling her name.

Somehow that made things a little bit better. Nicole was gone, kidnapped by Eli and James. Holly was insane and perhaps dead by now. Tante Cecile, a woman who had been almost an aunt to Amanda herself, had died trying to save Holly. The Goddess alone knew where the others were, including her father, and if they were even alive. Still, Tommy was here.

And so was the Goddess. Lying in the dirt for hours, Amanda had heard the still, small voice that so many others had claimed to hear. The soft female voice whispered words of encouragement to Amanda, commanding her not to give up, to keep going.

She had always believed that the Goddess existed.
It's kinda hard to question when you can suddenly levitate stuff and dead ancestors start speaking through your cousin.
Still, despite all the supernatural stuff, the Goddess had never appeared or spoken to her. She had only appeared to Holly. At first, Amanda had been jealous, and then, as things got really crazy, relieved. Sometimes it was just easier not to have so much … reality to deal with.

Amanda had never been a leader, but she knew that was going to have to change; the Goddess had told her heart that, had spoken to her and lifted her to her feet back in the forest when all she'd wanted to do was lie in the dirt. She felt like either laughing or crying, and she wasn't sure which. She was an unlikely leader, as the only one who had ever followed her anywhere was Tommy.

Now she turned to look at him. They were in thrall, the Lady to the Lord, and she was so very, very happy about it. Whatever magic and strength each of them had at their command would be shared with the
other. He looked like he was going to drop from exhaustion. That was pretty much how she felt. They both needed rest, and soon.

She squeezed his hand. The motel didn't seem so far off; she figured if they could just hold on for five more minutes, they would make it.

He turned to her and said, “Agreed.”

Her lips parted. “Did you read my mind?”

Tommy smiled faintly. “I've always been able to read your mind, Amanda. In my own way.”

“I was pretty clueless about you,” she confessed.

“I know. But now—”

“Now.” She leaned toward him for a kiss. It was a very sweet moment.

They trudged on, though she was buoyed as they stumbled the last of the distance in silence. Amanda gradually became preoccupied with willing one foot to step in front of the other, and her thoughts about the Goddess and Tommy faded into the background until they were nothing more than a gentle hum in the back of her mind. A few more steps and they would be there.

She looked up and spied a lone figure staring at them. It was hard to tell through the torn clothing and the burned hair and face, but he looked familiar. They staggered to him, and her heart jumped. It was Pablo,
the youngest member of the White Magic Coven. The boy looked wild, and his left eye gazed fiercely at her. His right eye was swollen shut.

Relief flooded through her to find someone else alive. She nearly ran the last couple of feet, dragging Tommy behind her.

At last they stood face-to-face. For a moment, no one spoke.

Then tears welled in Pablo's eyes. “I could feel you,” he said, his voice sharp, almost accusing. “Back in the forest I could feel you. I couldn't reach you, but I knew that you would end up here, so I came.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

“A few hours.”

She stared at him. Pablo had a gift that none of the rest of them did: He could read minds, feel people's thoughts, even track people using them. She felt her throat constrict as she asked, “And the others?”

He shook his head slowly. “I do not know. Once, I thought I felt Philippe, but
duende,
his life force, was flickering.” He took a deep breath. “I have felt no one else since the cabin.”

She nodded her head slowly.

“We should get cleaned up and try to get some rest,” Tommy ventured. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, and the sound startled her.

“You're right,” she said, looking uneasily toward the lobby. “I don't have anything with me, though—no identification, no credit cards.”

“Good.” Tommy was grimly satisfied. “We don't want to use anything that can be traced.”

“But, I don't have any cash, either. Do you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Then how will we pay?” she protested, wrapping her arms around herself in an effort to keep her ribs from shifting.

Tommy turned and looked at her fondly. “Ms. Anderson, I've always been a standup guy, right?”

“Yes,” she said, somewhat confused.

“You've never known me to steal or cheat or lie?”

“No, never.”

“Then take that into account when I tell you this. We don't have any money? Not a problem. You're a witch. Do a damn spell.”

She nearly laughed in shocked embarrassment. Of course Tommy was right. They had just survived a war, and the three of them needed shelter. She set her jaw and turned on her heel, leaving the two guys behind.

She marched up to the front desk and looked the startled clerk straight in the eye. “I need a quiet room with two beds.”

“I'll need a credit card and some identification,” the clerk stuttered.

“I already showed them to you,” she told him, her voice dropping lower. She willed her words to wash over him and through him, imbued them with the power to cloud his perceptions of reality.

His eyes glazed over slightly. “I'm sorry, you're right. How long will you be staying?”

“I'll let you know,” she assured him.

He nodded absently and handed her a room key. She took it, gave him one last mental push for good measure, and walked out the door. Outside, her knees shook a little, but she kept walking.

She collected Tommy and Pablo, and they all made it to the room. It was clean and much larger than she had expected.

She turned and took her first good look at Tommy since the entire thing had begun. He stared back at her with eyes open wide, and she felt a strange urge to laugh.

Tommy's eyebrows were completely gone, sacrificed to the fire that had tried to consume all of them. Without them, his face looked almost comical. Reflexively she put her hand to her own brows. They felt like they were still there.

With a puzzled look, Tommy mimicked her
motion. His eyes widened when he realized what she had been staring at. He turned and gazed at himself in the bathroom mirror. “Talk about playing with fire,” he quipped.

Amanda felt an intense surge of love for him. Tommy had always known how to lighten her mood. She slowly turned her head until she, too, faced the mirror.

She didn't recognize herself. Staring back from the mirror was a young woman with tattered clothes. Dried blood soaked what was left of the material in several places, most noticeably over her ribs on her right side. What wasn't covered with blood was caked with dirt. Her eyes were wild, flashing underneath a mop of burnt hair. The left side of her face was completely covered in blood.

No wonder I freaked out the guy at the front desk.

Silently, Pablo came to join them, and the three stared at their battered reflections. Amanda's throat tightened.
Is this it? Are we all that's left of the coven?
She willed herself not to cry. Her face already had enough gunk on it; the last thing she needed was to wet it all down and have it everywhere.

Reflected in the glass, tears began to slide down Pablo's face. She put an arm around him as she began to lose it too. Tommy put his arm around her. For a
moment the trio continued to stare into the mirror. It was like a warped family portrait. A collective shudder went through the group, and then they collapsed on the floor, hugging and crying and screaming.

Thorns twist and pierce the flesh
Keep the wounds nice and fresh
Count the bodies one through ten
Then bleed them all once again

Tears we cry for the dead
With our hearts full of dread
Goddess fill us with your power
Even in our darkest hour

Avalon: Nicole Anderson

The more things change, the more they stay the same,
Nicole thought bitterly as she glanced around the bedroom. So much had happened in the last few days and yet here she was, right back in James's bedroom as though nothing had happened. At least this time it was a different bedroom. She didn't know for sure where she was, but she knew it wasn't the headquarters of the Supreme Coven.

Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She had been reunited with her sister and her father, her cousin had been possessed, and she had been put in thrall to Philippe.
Philippe.
Now she didn't even know if he was alive, much less whether she would ever see him again.

Meow!

She glanced down at Astarte. The cat was gazing up at her intently, and her tail was curling and uncurling around Nicole's left ankle. The cat had jumped into the portal after her when James and Eli had kidnapped her from the house in Seattle. She picked the cat up and pressed her to her cheek.

“Last time I left Seattle, I left my cat, Hecate, behind. She died. You are my own sweet cat, now, and you won't let me leave you, will you?”

The cat batted her nose with a paw and purred contentedly. Nicole kissed the top of her head. Astarte had come to her in the Spanish countryside when she had been running from the Deveraux. Philippe had taken care of the cat after Nicole had been kidnapped by Eli and James the first time.

Eli and James.
They had pulled her through the portal and they had landed back on the island. Without a word, Eli had left and James had escorted her back to his bedroom before locking her in. This time he had placed magical as well as physical barriers on the door.

It's a new doorjamb,
she noticed idly. She had destroyed it when she'd escaped the first time.
Either that or he used magic to fix it… .

Astarte twisted in her arms, and Nicole put her down, before she straightened wearily and sat down on the bed.

There had to be something she could do.
I'm a witch, for goodness sake. I should be able to help myself.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe deeply.

“Goddess, now hear me cry, protect me now, don't let me die, I lift my face to the moon and beg you grant deliverance soon.”

The words filled her with power, or, at the very least, a new courage. She turned and opened the hidden compartment in the headboard. It was empty. James was too smart to put his ring and other things back there, given that she had tried to take them before. She turned and spied a small table standing in the corner. She crossed to it and pulled out the single drawer. There was some paper, a pen, and a handful of candles.
At least it's something.

She picked up the pen and carefully, methodically drew a pentagram upon the ground. “Earth, wind, fire, water, spirit,” she blessed each point of the star as she drew it.

She stepped back to observe her handiwork. The
circle around the star looked more like an oval, but given what she had to work with, she figured the Goddess wouldn't mind.

Next she selected five white candles and set each one of them at each point of the star. Once finished, she sat down in the center. She closed her eyes and reached backward in her mind, back past all the pain and terror. When she practiced magic with Amanda and Holly it was so forced, as though she were making everything happen by sheer strength of will.

She fought to remember a different time, one of innocence, before the darkness had come. Back when she hadn't known of her witchly heritage, back when her mother was still alive.

Magic had been so simple then, when she hadn't known what she was doing. She sat quietly, trying not to force the magic, but just to let if flow through her and around her. She felt the warmth of Astarte's body as the cat came to her and curled up in her lap.

She slowly opened her eyes. She placed her finger on the candle before her. Fire jumped into being. Quietly, she moved her finger from candle to candle until all five were ablaze.

“My will is strong, my purpose right, protect me now from evil's sight. I call upon thee, Goddess fair, hearken now to my prayer. Keep me safe from beast
and man, I entrust my fate to the Maiden's hand.”

A rushing wind filled the room, making the candles' fire dance, though they did not extinguish. She gasped as the wind rushed through her, filling her in a moment with a peace she had never known.