Legacy & Spellbound (41 page)

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Authors: Nancy Holder

BOOK: Legacy & Spellbound
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Ignore the pain,
she coached herself as she kept working at the lock. She wrinkled up her nose as she began to smell her flesh burning.
Ignore the smell.
Then suddenly the pin moved, clicking into place, and the metal cuff sprang open. Gasping, she shook her hand and it fell off.

She stared at the burn marks around her wrist. The skin was beginning to blister.
Not good.
She closed her eyes and prayed.
Goddess, take this wounded arm and repair all its harm, heal the flesh and numb the pain, renew that which now is lame.

She watched in awe as the blisters dissipated. The pain subsided as well. After a minute there was only a slight red ring around her wrist.
Scar?
she wondered. She couldn't help but think suddenly of Jer and the scarring that the Fire had done to him.

It's a miracle he lives,
she thought.
I wonder what dark force kept him alive and healed him enough to function as a human being?
She shuddered.
Whatever it is, I hope I never have to meet it.

Then, out of the darkness, a voice whispered, “Too late.”

Mother Coven: Santa Cruz

Anne-Louise Montrachet was uneasy in her skin. Something is coming.
I can feel it in the earth, in the water, but, most especially, in the air.

Thanks be to the Goddess, and the healers of her coven, she was well again. The pain of healing had nearly killed her, but now she could move with little effort and only slight pain. She stretched out her legs as she walked the wooded paths and breathed in the rich air.

This was her first time at the Mother Coven retreat in the hills of Santa Cruz, California, though she had heard many things about it. For five years now the coven had owned the property and used it. Behind her, Whisper, a gray cat that had mysteriously appeared and adopted her, scampered after a lizard in the under-growth.

Santa Cruz was a strange place, with a natural, mystical energy unlike any she had ever felt. Strange
happenings were also being attributed to the area. There was the famous “Mystery Spot,” where gravity seemed to work in reverse. It was but one of several spots like it on Earth, but it had seemed to draw the most attention. Alfred Hitchcock was inspired by a flock of birds that seemingly went mad and flew into houses, killing themselves, and attacking the people caught outside. The incident that became the basis for
The Birds
was just one of the strange things that had happened in the area.

More than any of these stories, though, Anne-Louise had always been fascinated and disturbed by the stories of the Satanic rituals performed in the very hills she was walking. Every year, ignorant, bored, rebellious college students from UC Santa Cruz and elsewhere gathered to perform bizarre rituals and sacrifice untold numbers of animals. She glanced protectively at Whisper.

The cat paused to look at her, half a lizard in her mouth, and cocked her head questioningly to the side. In almost every instance the children involved in such events knew nothing of magic—white, black, or gray. The “rituals” were just an outlet for their own twisted, sadistic natures. A very few of them, though, were worshipers of the Horned God who used the rest as cover for their activities. Since the Mother Coven had
taken property in these hills, they had worked to eradicate such horrors.
True witches don't kill cats,
Anne-Louise told herself.
All the more reason to fear Holly.

The younger witch had scared her from the first. She had too much power, especially for one so young in years and young in the Craft.
They all do.
Anne-Louise herself had had to work and study for years to accomplish even some of the most minor magics, except for wards. Wards were her specialty—her “gift,” as the High Priestess called it. Every witch had a special gift, the thing at which she excelled. What made Holly dangerous was the fact that she excelled at everything and had never had to learn discipline to do so.

The trees moaned as the wind picked up, and Anne-Louise glanced around self-consciously.
Yes, something is coming,
she thought.
And when it gets here, we're all going to be in a lot of trouble.

Nicole: Avalon

Nicole trembled. “Who's there?” she called.

A low, mocking laugh was all the answer she received.

She saw something move out of the corner of her eye, a whisper of something not quite there. She twisted her head, and it was gone. “Goddess?” she whispered, praying that it was but knowing that it wasn't.

“No.”

She twisted her head back to where the sound came from, but there was nothing. “The Horned God?” she asked, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

Another laugh. “No.”

“Then, who, what are you?” she demanded, pulse thundering in her ears.

“Something … else.”

“What?” she gasped.

“Something you can't understand,” it roared, and then suddenly it was on top of her, pressing against her, moving through her.

“And now—I'm not alone.”

As it merged with her mind, she felt evil, ancient and mysterious. She felt rage, lust, and deceit. And there was something else …

… there were two.

Kari: California

Kari sped down Interstate 5, leaving the town of Winters behind as fast as she could. “Come on, come on,” she shouted, punching her horn to punctuate it. She swerved around the car in front of her and hit the accelerator as she looked at the clock on the dashboard.

Any minute now they would know she was missing,
that she wasn't coming back. She had to get as far away as she could before they sicced the bloodhound Pablo on her—or, worse, the mysterious new cousin, Alex.

They had all been hiding in her family cabin near the town of Winters, which was situated next to the university town of Davis. While everyone got used to Alex and began magical and physical preparations for the evening, she had volunteered to go get food. Somehow, miraculously, they had let her go alone.

She had bypassed the general store, speeding toward the freeway as fast as she could.
I can't handle this anymore. I'm sick of waiting around to be killed like the others. And Alex … Alex terrifies me.

She didn't know why, but there was something about him that made her uneasy. She pushed her foot down harder on the gas pedal. She had to get clear, she had to think. Despair filled her, though, with a sinking feeling that even if she escaped the coven, she wouldn't be safe. Into the blackness of her thoughts, a single small light appeared.

What if I can get the two sides to stop fighting? What if I can get them to call a truce? There must be a way we can all live together in peace.

She narrowed her eyes. Jer had once said his father had a place in the desert, sort of a spiritual retreat. It was in New Mexico.
If they won't listen, he might.

Nicole: Avalon

Nicole woke up and began to vomit. She tried to curl on her side, but the chains still binding her ankles and right wrist wouldn't let her move too far.

From behind her, a familiar, hated voice commented, “You look like hell.”

James!
She turned her head slowly and stared at him. “What is on this island?”

“What?” he said, sounding puzzled.

“You heard me,” she spat. “What is on this island? There is something here.”

He hesitated for a moment, and in that moment he almost seemed human to her, frail and filled with uncertainty. “Once, when I was young, I thought—”

“Thought what?” she pressed.

“Nothing,” he snapped, his veneer sliding back into place.

“Tell me!”

He shrugged, an evil grin spreading across his face. “I guess you'll just have to ask the ghosts, once I turn you into one.” He threw a dress down on the bed beside her. “Be dressed in that when I return in five minutes.”

“Or what?”

“Or, I'll dress you,” he said, bending down to give her the full effect of his leer.

Sickened, she turned her face away. She heard him move to the door and open it. Then, with a great clanking, her chains fell from her wrist and ankles. She heard the door shut behind him as she sat up.

He intends to sacrifice me,
she thought as she stared at the dress.
Well, he's going to find out I'm not that easy to kill.

Astarte leaped up into her lap with a soft
mew,
and Nicole stroked her soft fur for a moment before moving her aside so she could begin dressing. Astarte had the most uncanny ability to make herself scarce when James was around.

“That's because I have not chosen him,” the cat opened its mouth, and a strong yet feminine voice spoke.

“Goddess,” Nicole gasped.

“Yes, child, I have been watching you, guiding you. Your time is not yet over. It has only just begun.”

“Those things that attacked me?”

“The betrayer and his apprentice.”

“What did they want from me?” she asked while pulling her shirt off over her head.

“What they always want—to corrupt, to pervert.”

“Why me?” she asked, as she stepped into the dress.

“Because you are the future.”

Nicole zipped up the dress and was about to ask what that meant when there was a sound at the door.
The cat disappeared, and Nicole turned to face James as he entered.

He looked her up and down appreciatively. “You'll make a lovely sacrifice for the Horned God tonight.” He sidled close and grasped her upper arm. He pulled her close, so that they were inches from each other. “Too bad we both know you're not a virgin.”

She smirked. “Yeah, remind me to thank Eli for that.”

“Slut!” he hissed as he raised his other hand to slap her. She just looked up at him, a smile twisting her lips. She had gotten to him.
That's it, James. I win.

He knew it too. She could see it in his eyes. With a snarl, he turned and started dragging her toward the door. Instead of fighting him, she shook her arm free—
How did I do that?
— and walked beside him.

When they reached the dungeon he locked her in a cell. “I'll be back for you in a little while.”

“Do you really think this cage can hold me, James, if I will it not to?” she asked mockingly. The tides had turned and, somehow, despite the fact that she was the prisoner, she had all the power.

James nearly killed the messenger. “What do you mean, my father wants to see me right away?

The man kneeling at his feet didn't lift his eyes.
“Your presence is wanted at once, no delays.”

James felt his blood boiling with frustration. The sacrifice of his bride would have to wait. He was still playing his father's game, pretending to be the dutiful son, and he wasn't ready yet to end the charade.

As James got in the boat to cross the waters back to England, he didn't notice another boat that was docking a hundred yards away. The thick fog obscured its occupants from sight. The island had been heavily warded for centuries, even more so since Nicole's escape. As soon as she'd left they had installed barriers that made it impossible to open a portal on the island.

That was why the four huge, lumbering beasts were crawling out of the boat they'd had to steal to attain the island. Because they landed at the same time that James's boat was leaving, no sensor alarms went off. They were lucky, but then the Golems knew nothing of luck. All they knew was the task that they were assigned, and they had been trying for a couple of days to find and kill Nicole Anderson.

SEVEN
 
MORDON

We waver now in our quest
Green Man tell us what is best
Shall we kill or shall we bleed
And where shall we plant our seed

Betrayal now all around
Weeping is the only sound
We shall die with Wind Moon rise
Victims of warlock lies

Kari: New Mexico

As Kari swerved around the orange barrels rerouting her path across the freeway lanes, the torrential rain pummeled the top of the car like fists in metal gauntlets. She wasn't sure why the barrels were there, but they made her progress even harder … and it was difficult enough already.

Her windshield wipers could do nothing against the onslaught; water rushed down the glass with the
speed and power of a waterfall. Fanning across the highway, the rising waters sent her hydroplaning, and she cried out and grabbed the steering wheel hard.

Kari was struggling across high desert country. Her neck and upper back were knotted with fear; when she had awakened in her motel room, she had listened intently to the news reports about tonight's flash floods. But something told her to drive, anyway, and to keep driving, and she didn't know if the demanding voice inside her head was that of friend or foe. Now that she had bolted, it could be one of the coven members trying to catch up with her; or one of those hideous Golems … or Holly herself.

Her stomach clenched. She was scared to death of what Holly had become. What would Jer think of his precious “soul mate” now that she had practically no soul at all? She, Kari, could almost forgive him for dumping her in favor of Holly. Hell, she was the strongest witch alive, and he was a warlock. But she was also the one who'd left him to die in the Black Fire in the gymnasium. His terrible scars were evidence of her “love” for him.

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