Obsidian Curse (24 page)

Chapter 44

Luckily, the cord wasn’t long enough and it lurched from the wall, cutting the current.

I managed to roll away just as Chance smashed the tool into the brick with a roar that shook the foundation of the house.

Behind us, the Leanan whooped. Chance shifted at the sound of her voice as I hauled myself up to standing.

She seemed to have recovered from the pain, but her eyes were flaming red. She wasn’t laughing in amusement anymore. It was with determination. With purpose.

“We’re going to have such fun,” she snarled.

Chance repeated, “Such fun.” He laughed and sent me a look so malevolent, I could have sworn he was another person entirely.

My gut wrenched. It was awful not to trust him. To be afraid of the man I loved. I felt alone again, like that young girl who had lost her parents. Except back then, I had Chance to turn to in my grief.

Now, there was no one.

It was the worst moment of my life.

The Leanan walked over to my love, put her arms around him, and kissed him deeply. He responded enthusiastically, hands running all up and down her back, through her thick hair and to her buttocks.

I cringed and jerked my head away.

The fairy mistress broke away from Chance and said, “What shall we do with her?” Her arms trailed up and down his chest, admiring the build of him so openly, she bit her lip and a trickle of blood dripped to her cleavage.

Chance studied me a moment. “I suppose she could serve as a fun toy.” He looked at the succubus with so much desire in his eyes, my heart cracked wide open and I thought I might vomit.

“Get the rope, my darling,” purred the fairy mistress.

Chance shuffled off into another room as I desperately tried to come up with a plan to bind the Leanan.

Or kill her. Whichever came first.

“I have the skull,” I lied.

“What skull?” The Leanan walked over to a shelf and extracted a long, pointy dagger from a vase. She examined it as if it were a long-lost friend. “Old-school tools really are the most faithful,” she said absentmindedly.

“Your only creation. The obsidian skull. Let him go and I’ll return it to you.”

She looked for a moment as if she had no idea what I was talking about. Then she said, “That old thing? Why ever would I want that back?” She scoffed and ran a finger along the side of the blade. She pricked herself then sucked the blood with rabid passion. “You humans and your silly treasures. The only real treasure, dear Geraghty, is magic, because with magic comes power.”

She lashed at the air with the blade.

Now I was really nervous. If she didn’t want the skull, then that meant she wanted—

“You poor, daft thing. You think that’s why I’m here?” She stepped forward, the tip of the knife aimed inches from my throat.

I backed away slowly. “Then why are you here?”

There was another spell in my belt that Birdie had insisted I carry. I unsnapped the pocket where it was tucked.

“For you, of course. To get my revenge for what the Geraghtys did to me. And for everything I’ve been denied so long.” Her eyes looked past me as she put the dagger to her tongue. “Carnal pleasures are really what this world is all about.”

Chance came back into the room, a golden rope in his hand.

“But before I kill you, I’m going to make you watch and suffer as I had suffered at the hands of your ancestor.” She flared her eyes at Chance, who was waiting for instructions. “Bring her into the bedroom,” snapped the Leanan.

He advanced on me and yanked my arm.

“Chance, baby, come back to me. Don’t do this. Don’t help her,” I pleaded, holding onto his wrist.

He didn’t look at me. He just shoved me through the doorway.

I sheathed the sword and clutched the amulets hanging from my neck. My locket, Shannon’s dharma, and Adia’s Tibetan skull. Then I pulled out Birdie’s beacon potion, bit the cork off the top, and gulped the contents of the vial down.

When the Leanan followed through the threshold, I whirled on her and aimed the three talismans at her face. Then an image flashed in my mind and my father’s voice whispered,
warrior.

I shouted to the Blood Moon through the open window in the bedroom. To the Samhain night and the spirit world and all the Fae that respected the earthly plane and the species who inhabit it, I called. Then, still gripping the amulets, I bellowed an incantation.

“I bind thee, Leanan Sidhe, I bind thee in the name of the sacred treaty of Queen Maeve and Mother Danu. I bind thee to uphold peace between our worlds and to serve out your punishment against the human race in the Otherworld under the laws of the ancient Druids and the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

When I was finished, my chest heaved and I was light-headed. It took all the oxygen in my lungs to attempt to invoke the spirits. Nothing else had worked. Not the spells, not the skull, not even my sword. This was our last hope. A Hail Mary pass designed to penetrate the veil that separated the worlds and call for help.

Because I didn’t think I could do it alone.

The fairy mistress crossed her arms and cocked her head. “You think human trinkets will work on me? Did no one teach you anything, Geraghty?” She trained her dagger at me, gliding forward until I was forced into a chair. “I was once a goddess, worshipped by men the world over, the inspiration of countless art born from both brush and quill. Do you know what that means?”

“It means the only power you have is between your legs,” I said.

She sneered and slashed at my face, but I kicked the knife from her hand. It flew past Chance and stuck in a potted plant.

The Leanan put her face right next to mine. Her breath was hot as she hissed, “It means you are beneath me.” She looked back at Chance, still standing there like a zombie. “Tie her up,” she spat.

Chance wrapped the rope around my chest and the chair, knotting it off to the side. He bound my feet together and my hands to the arms of the chair, while the entire time I pleaded with him to stop.

My words fell on deaf ears.

I closed my eyes and chanted the last spell I had worked on for this moment.

“Geraghtys of the past, come back. Aid my quest and thwart this attack. Goddess Danu and queen of the Fae, join my people to carry her away. Queen Maeve of the Emerald Isle, banish this Sidhe to exile.”

I repeated the words over and over again, but nothing seemed to be happening.

The fairy mistress knelt over me, her breasts spilling into my lap. “Would you like me to cut out your tongue first?”

I stopped talking, opened my eyes, but kept the words echoing in my head. The chanting in my brain grew louder and louder as I tried to drown out what was happening to me. And who it was happening with.

“That’s better.” She stood and walked over to the bed.

“Now what?” Chance asked.

“Now you kill her.” She said it as calmly as you might order a latte.

My unuttered chants grew louder, as if it was more than my own voice inside my head. As if I had a whole team of witches in there assisting me.

Chance flashed his eyes to me, and there was just a flicker of doubt. Albeit brief, still it was there. She hadn’t completely bespelled him. A part of his soul lingered; I could feel it, taste it, smell it.

Which meant I could still reach him.

He looked at her and said, “I thought you were going to do that.”

The fairy mistress lay down on the bed and put her hands behind her head. “I’ve changed my mind. But I promise we can have fun after.”

At the word
fun
, Chance let out a moan.

He looked at me and I could see a tiny hint of recognition. Then it was gone. The room electrified as he walked over and plucked the dagger from the dirt. He approached me slowly.

“Any last requests?” the Leanan asked.

Warrior.

“Just one.” I held Chance’s eyes in mine. They swirled with black clouds, but I knew in that moment, I wasn’t alone anymore.

“Well, what is it?” she barked.

“One last kiss.”

Chance turned to look at her. Seeking permission.

She considered it. “A girl after my own heart. Very well.”

He faced me again, his back to the bed, and I whispered under my breath.

“Tibetan skull around my neck, use your power to break this hex. With one kiss last and one kiss first, let our bond shatter this curse.”

Chance leaned in and locked eyes with mine.

I whispered, “I love you.”

Then he kissed me for one long, passionate moment.

When he pulled away, the blackness had faded and there were gold specks in his eyes again.

He stared at me for a time, shifted his gaze to the dagger in his hand.

To my sheer horror he didn’t put it down.

Instead, he held it to my neck.

Chapter 45

Chance looked at the dagger, then at me. He pulled back and turned to face the Leanan on the bed. In that same soulless, monotone voice, he said, “I want to use the sword.”

She said, “How very King Arthur of you. Fine. Whatever. Just get on with it already. I’m bored.”

He set the dagger down near my feet and reached for my sword. He held it tightly, his breathing steady, calm, his face void of any emotion.

I could not believe I was going to die by my own sword, my true love at the helm. It was like a freaking Greek tragedy.

Chance raised my weapon and held it to my cheek as one fat tear rolled down it.

I looked at him, begging him with my eyes to find himself. To remember me. Feel my love for him in this moment, despite what he was about to do.

Then he winked.

I tried to hold my reaction, tried not to move a single muscle, not to let even the tiniest twitch ripple my face.

A voice—Birdie’s voice—whispered in my head, reminding me that the curse had been cast when the first drop of Geraghty blood hit the ground all those centuries ago.

So maybe, just maybe, it could be broken the same way.

I steadied my gaze on Chance.

“Do it!” I yelled, another tear streaming down my cheek.

The authority in my voice visibly startled him. He gave me a questioning look and I said, “Get on with it already. I don’t want to live if I can’t have you.”

From the bed, I heard the Leanan Sidhe say, “How touching.” Then she shouted, “Kill her!”

Chance raised the sword and slashed my arm.

The second my blood spilled, the room exploded with energy. The lights flickered off and on, first blinding me, and then dissipating into blackness, then flashing to life again. I saw shapes and shadows outside through the window. It could have been the coven, it could have been my spirit guides—heck, it could have even been the Tuatha Dé Danann.

After all, it was Samhain.

The radio on the bedside table roared to life and the television screamed.

Actually, that was the Leanan.

From the other room, I heard buzzes and bells. The drill screeched on at full power.

Chance turned toward the bed, his arm around my shoulders, and we watched as the body that lay there transformed back into Frieda’s. There was a struggle and we could see both the vampire and the human fight for control until, eventually, Frieda regained use of her vessel and the fairy mistress was wrenched from Frieda’s body. Her ethereal form scratched at invisible hands, clawing at faces we couldn’t see, but I knew they were there all the same. My people.

My team.

In a frenzy of screams and swirling light, the Leanan Sidhe was sucked back into the Otherworld. Back to her prison.

Chance stared at the bed where Frieda now lay, unconscious. I was certain she’d be all right, but I didn’t know how much time we had before she awoke, and I didn’t have a whole lot of answers to give her.

“We have to go. Hurry. Untie me.”

Chance rushed to sever the ropes. I grabbed my sword and we got the hell out of there.

Chapter 46

Outside, the coven was waiting. One by one, they broke the circle they had formed around the property. I wasn’t sure how long they had been there. I was just grateful that they were.

Birdie approached me first. “See how much more efficient you can be when you use all the resources at your disposal?”

“Yes, Obi Wan.” I bowed.

My grandmother bopped me on the head with her broom and rolled her eyes. I thanked her for the beacon spell. Clearly, I would not have been able to both bind the Leanan Sidhe and call forth the spirits without it. The locket itself may have worked on any other night, but tonight the spirits were jittery with so much to do in such a short time span.

Plus, if a witch wasn’t careful, she could summon a dark one. And I didn’t need two of them to deal with on Samhain.

Birdie called to Shannon and Adia to assist the “cleanup,” whatever that meant. Maybe they were going to erase Frieda’s memory of the last few days or maybe they were actually going to cleanse the house of the negative energy from the Leanan. Either way, I was happy they were here so that I could properly thank them for the use of their personal talismans.

Adia said, “We’re sisters. Remember that.” She hugged me and I dropped her Tibetan skull in her hand.

“Until next time.” She disappeared into the house.

Shannon’s nose was taped and she had a pretty large bruise on her head where the car door had nailed her. I removed the dharma from my neck and placed it around hers. “Thank you, Shannon. I’m sorry I misjudged you. And um”—I scratched my neck and pointed to her face—“about that.”

Chance gave me a questioning look.

To her credit, Shannon smiled. “I understand.”

I leaned in to hug her, but she jumped away. She stuck out her hand. “No hard feelings.”

I shook it and the young witch trotted into the house.

“Where’s Pickle?”

“Home,” Birdie said.

“The inn?” I asked.

“No. His home. It’s done.” My grandmother looked at Chance and said, “How are you feeling?”

“Confused.” He looked at me. “And happy.” He pulled me into his arms for a kiss and buried his head in my chest. Then he sneezed. He pulled back, wrinkling his nose.

“Is that a new perfume? You know I’m allergic to roses.”

“I’m not wearing perfume,” I said.

Lolly approached us then. “That reminds me, Birdie, the manager at Briar Rose called. He tracked Yvonne down through the grapevine and said she left her phone charger there Monday evening.”

“Briar Rose? I thought she didn’t get into town until Tuesday, the night of the book signing,” I said.

Birdie shrugged. “Perhaps she wanted to explore another hotel on her own. It’s a very feminine place. They put—”

“Roses in every room,” I said.

I pulled out the note that Shannon had given me earlier.

Give me the skull or the author dies.

It did smell of roses. That’s why the paper had seemed so familiar.

And the chipmunk noise I heard before I was knocked unconscious. That wasn’t an actual rodent at all. It was a sneeze.

Lolly gave me a funny look. “What is it, dear?”

“Where’s Blade?” I asked, frantically.

“Packing, I suppose. They checked out.”

“Yvonne has the skull. Meet me back at the inn as soon as you can,” I told Lolly. To Chance, I said, “Come on.”

All the while, I had been wondering: Who would shoot my window out? Who would know where I lived? And who would actually threaten Blade, but not follow through with it?

Someone who wanted him alive. Someone who
profited
from him being alive. Someone who knew where I lived. Someone who was staying right next door.

As we raced back to the inn in Chance’s truck, I explained everything. Everything about what had happened to him, who I was, and why I couldn’t tell him. About how it was dangerous and I didn’t want him to get hurt, but seeing as how that ship had sailed, I figured it was more dangerous to keep him in the dark.

The Council could punish me as they saw fit.

And then, when Chance parked the truck, I told him the most important thing of all, the words he had longed to hear, but I could never say. I told him I loved him.

He smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For trusting me.”

“Always.”

The house was dark when we pulled up and Blade’s car was there. The Taser was still on me, but I had a lot more faith in the tranquilizer gun. I told Chance to head inside through the back door and call Leo. I jogged over to the cottage to see if the tranq gun was still in the bushes where I had knocked it out of Shannon’s hand. I spotted the nunchucks, dangling from a branch, but no gun.

I sifted through the brittle leaves and the evergreens to no avail. Where was it?

“You looking for this?”

Uh-oh. I slowly turned around to see Monique standing in my front yard, aiming my dart gun at me.

This was getting embarrassing. I really needed to figure out a security spell for my weapons.

“Hey, Monique.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Stacy Justice. I know you’ve been drugging me, you crazy bitch.”

Twice in one night I’d been called that.

I reached for the locket and she put both hands on the barrel. “Don’t you fucking move!”

I held my hands up.

It was clear to me that Monique hadn’t thought through her next step in this plan. She looked disoriented but pissed. Kind of like she usually did.

“Monique, calm down. I can explain everything.”

“Shut up!” A trail of spittle dribbled from her mouth. She was wearing the same clothes Lolly had dressed her in, although they were dirty and torn. Her hair had wrestled free of the chignon and was lashing out around her face in wild tendrils. She looked a lot like Tippi Hedren after the birds had gotten to her in that Hitchcock movie.

“Monique, please. Let’s go to the inn. Chance is there and Leo is on his way. You are in danger, but it’s not because of me.”

“Bullshit. The last thing I remember is being in that nuthouse. It has everything to do with you!”

I crooked my finger behind her. “Take a look. His truck is right there. You trust Chance, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, but she didn’t move her head. “Empty your pockets!”

“I’m wearing a costume. I don’t have any pockets.”

“You know what I mean! Take everything off. That necklace, the belt, the cape. All of it.”

Wow, she was really agitated. I couldn’t blame her, but if I did as she said, I’d be defenseless. I decided to go with honesty since lying hadn’t worked out so well for me this week.

I said, “Look, I’m not kidding. There’s someone at the inn who wants to harm me and if I do as you ask, I’m an open target.” There was still a blade in my boot heel, but it would be no match if Yvonne had a gun.

I had to get that skull. There was no telling what damage it could do in the wrong hands. But I was pretty sure Yvonne would only give it up over her dead body. Somehow she knew the skull lent creative juices to whomever possessed it and since she wasn’t a writer herself, but an agent, her livelihood depended on Blade’s output. There was no doubt he was her star author. From what I had learned over the last few days, his books consistently hit the #1 bestseller lists. I had no idea the kind of money high-list authors raked in but judging from his car and Yvonne’s wardrobe and shopping sprees, my guess was six or seven figures a year.

Agents. Talk about bottom-feeders.

Monique smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Now do it before I pop a cap in your ass.”

“How long have you been wanting to say that?”

Monique trained the gun at my chest.

“Okay, okay.” I blew out a sigh and slowly removed my cape, the belt, and the locket.

“Toss it all over in the shrubs. Not a girly throw, either. Launch it.”

I did as she asked.

“Now take two steps forward.”

I did. She further instructed me to walk slowly toward the inn, hands clasped above my head, and I wondered what the hell was taking Leo and the coven so long.

“I think we should go through the back door.”

“I don’t care what you think, She-Devil Barbie. We go through the front door like normal people.”

When I got to the porch, the house was still dark.

“Open the door,” Monique barked.

“Monique, I’m not bullshitting you. Something’s wrong. Chance would have turned on a light.” Unless he was still in the kitchen, but there was a front-porch switch back there. I was sure he would have flipped it on for Leo.

“Well, then I guess you’re going in first.”

I took a deep breath, put my hand on the knob, and twisted.

Instantly, the sack I had packed the skull in came swinging at my head. I belly-flopped on the porch and heard a scream, then a thud.

And another thud.

I stood up to find Monique flat on her back, out cold, gun still in her hand, and Yvonne—also out cold—with two darts in her throat.