Summon (24 page)

“Why? He seems at peace with her practices.”

“Watch what he does when he decides she’s stepped
too far, which she will, eventually. Damballah believes in cosmic equilibrium.
In black and white balance.”

I scowled. “A senseless belief. There are grey
areas. Exceptions and allowances must be made for the larger goal.”

“Not to him. There’s a clean difference between his
opinions. It makes him benign one moment then evil the next.”

My gaze strayed to the godling who extended her
arms to the sky. She cackled at the lightning splitting the darkness, conjured
at the commands she issued in nerve-jangling shrieks.

“And Marinette?”

“Mari is chaos. She walks the left hand path.”

“And you?”

“I lean to the right.”

His words struck a troubling cord. “You think
you’re a force of good?”

“Good and bad. Right and wrong.” Malice slouched
and gulped wine from his bottle. Armed his face when some dribbled down his
chin. “They’re just words.
Intention.
Actions we’re all capable of.”

After thinking deeply on what I’d learnt, I
muttered, “I’m drawn to you.”

“I know.”

It was disturbing. If I’d had to attach myself to
one of the Loa the logical choice would be Damballah, but the godling’s blank
stare and unemotional response to all stimuli bored me to death.

As for Marinette, I felt physically ill the longer
I spent in her presence.

Malice’s face turned serious. His voice lowered to
the quietest of whispers. “Mari sees what I see. She will feed the darkness
inside you.”

“I’m in control.”

“Oh?”

Refusing to turn my head and witness the twisted
bedlam befalling my sanctuary, I stilled my features. Presented an expression
of serene composure then asserted, “Of course.”

“So stubborn. I fear you’ll discover your real
nature too late. Beware your true desires, Cael. The hopes that hide in your
heart are under threat.”

I opened my mouth to demand clarity when a throat
cleared softly behind me.

Hands clutching the edges of her cloak together at
the throat, Naomi stared at Marinette in open-mouthed horror. “May I speak with
you, Father?”

Behind her, the rest of my Coven gathered, their
half-cloaked faces a mixture of trepidation and resolve.

Lurching up and dragging Gwendolyn with him, Malice
bowed his head in a show of respect that sent a slice of warmth through my
heart.

The godling gave me much to consider. I was not
used to having a confidant, and I appreciated his bluntness. However, his worry
over my future was daft. What happened at the fairy Wyld was a minor setback.
Rae was alive, and no doubt she and her clique plotted my destruction.
With the Loa on my side, they don’t stand a
chance.
Even with my blood daughter helping them. It did not matter Rae and
Breandan were godlings themselves, or that somewhere between my sister begging me
to let her love me, and her genuine tears for my pain, the wall surrounding my
heart cracked.

I will not
let these bizarre emotions deter me from my endgame.

I would avenge my innocence and find peace in one
conclusive battle.

Satisfied my Daughter and I were private I turned
to her expectantly.

Holding out her hands in supplication, she avoided
my gaze. “The Coven is uneasy.”

“This is a difficult time.”

“We understand this. My mother trusted you, so I
have trusted you, but–”

“But,” I repeated with an edge of bitter menace.

“Covens pay tithe to the witch with the greatest
power.”

“No witch surpasses me.”

“Begging forgiveness,” her gaze lowered, “one
does.”

Rather than give leeway to the twitchy anger her
words roused, I kept my voice calm, and willed the frayed thread of my patience
not to snap. “Ana is not stronger than me.”

“True, but your Children have discussed it and
you’re only
half
witch. Ana’s birth
mother was a witch, may the goddess we serve rest her soul. A Coven Mother with
less than a quarter of other blood would strengthen our craft. Each day that
passes your fairy traits become more pronounced and–”

My hand choking her airway strangled the remainder
of her sentence. I squeezed the pale column of her neck until her face turned
scarlet. “Your birth mother was the closest thing
I
had to a mother. She’s the reason you’re not a pile of
smouldering ash for having the gall to stand before me as you are. Eva’s not
yet cold in the ground, and already you seek to displace me?”

Naomi gurgled frantically shaking her head. She
dragged in air to squeak, “Divided.”

I eased my hold, realising I teetered perilously
close to tearing her head clean off her shoulders.

“We’re divided,” she blubbered. “Weak and faltering
because of it. Most despise the Loa. Some are too terrified to
speak
let alone cast. The rest offer
their bodies to Malice’s orgies and lifeblood to Marinette in worship. It’s
madness.”

“Many call me mad.”

“But we know the truth.” Her voice regained
conviction though it remained hoarse. “It’s not madness, but greatness. Look at
us. How low we’ve fallen. The godlings will bring the Coven’s destruction if
you continue this way.” Her eyes widened a fraction. “Surely you realise your
sister will come?”

“You dare speak of her with awe?” I glared. “You’re
more frightened of
her
than
me
?”

“I’m merely brave enough to say what others whisper
behind your back.”

“
Brave
?”
My bellow shook the walls. A few days past this witch ran screaming from
vampires. I tossed her away from me. “I see a betrayer who proclaimed herself
faithful ready to stab me in the back. Is there no loyalty?” Blood rushed in my
ears, the boom of my heartbeat deafening. “Can I not have a moment’s peace
without fearing for my life? There is no trust.
None
.” The Coven cowered on the dais they’d once reclined on.
Casting spells to torment vampires whilst volubly worshiping me, sycophantic in
their supposed fidelity. “You are
nothing
without me. Faithless deserters.” I stomped my foot and the earth quaked. The
witches stumbled as they struggled to retain balance. “Good Children follow
their Father without question. Without doubt.”

They swelled back as I lifted my hands, magics
sparking at my fingertips. Throwing my head back, hands fisted and arms flung
wide in frustration, I roared until my throat burned.

If I
unleash magics in this rage, I’ll kill them.

Naomi blanched and fled as I advanced, muttering an
incantation for protection as she crawled. I diverted my anger, slapping a
puling male across his chubby face. I snarled at another who scurried from my
wrath.

 
A
chilling sound stilled all movement. Marinette’s hollow laughter drew every
eye.

The owl resting on her shoulder took flight as she
descended from the pedestal of boulders. The crawlers scattered. Chin lifted
imperiously, she drifted across the distance between us on bare feet oozing ichor.
Her gaze wandered over Naomi dispassionately as if looking for the right swathe
of flesh to cut and glean a better understanding of the entity squatting before
her.

Trembling, Naomi lowered her head and curled into a
ball.

“They have displeased you?” Marinette observed.

“Yes.”

“Discipline them.”

Chest heaving, I shifted my flinty glare to her. “I
was.”

“You held back.” Her hand idly stroked my chest as
she circled. “How will they learn respect if you show mercy at defiance?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Malice shake his
head. He turned his face away, and crossed his arms as if preparing to shield
himself from internal pain.

A warning to tread with caution stirred behind my
anger.

As one, the zonbi ceased their aimless meandering
and shuffled closer.

Werewolves crept up behind us on silent paws and
tilted their heads at Marinette. Kneeling, she indulged the stoutest wolf with
languid strokes on his fur-slicked muzzle, cooing softly. Expression rapturous,
her pupils dilated, aroused by her intentions.

My lips parted, ready for the words to stop
whatever chastisement she premeditated, but they gathered so hastily they got
stuck in a tangle on my wagging tongue.

Puffing in excitement, she whispered in the
creature’s fluted ear. “Punish them.”

The werewolf flung his head back and howled.

The Pack rushed forward, swirling Marinette’s
skirts about her legs as she stood, and twirled airily to enjoy the bloody
carnage born of her command.

The vampires hiding in the shadows blurred into
movement and leapt on the witches, yanking heads back and sinking their teeth
into bared skin.

Raj stopped at my side, shaking. He made not one
move to join them though his hunger was blatant.

Terror became a stench I tasted at the back of my
throat.

Blood misted the air. Limbs flew. Chunks of flesh
splattered the grass. Screams turned into gurgles of death, and cries for mercy
fused into an ear-splitting clamour that was amplified by the acoustics of the
domed building.

Taken by shock, I dragged a hand over my face,
speechless.

Unperturbed, sat cross-legged under an apple tree
forced to bear fruit, Damballah whistled a tune.

The piercing sound echoed in my ears.

My mouth opened to demand the slaughter stopped,
but nothing came out.

Beside me, clasping my shaking hand between hers,
Marinette watched with an expression of exquisite satisfaction. “I suppressed
their magics,” she confessed in a breathless rush. Licking her lips, her
feverish eyes shone. “I didn’t want my pets harmed by any nasty hexes.” Gristle
spattered her neck. She rubbed the gore with a fond smile directed at the vampire
fang deep in neck cartilage. “Vampires make the most darling of companions, but
the zonbi create an art of skull crushing, rapacious yet utterly captivating in
their butchery. It’s why I’m patroness of the undead. Mortal propriety cannot
tame them. Their baser natures liberate the beast that hides within us all.”

I trembled when Naomi turned horror-struck eyes on
me. The warm shade of brown reminded me of her mother’s kind eyes. “Father.”
Her voice was a guttural screech as she fended off a slobbering werewolf with
nothing but her torn cloak. “Save us.”

An ominous sense of danger saturated the
atmosphere, and the darkness of the night gained crushing weight.

“You
dare
call him Father?” Marinette’s cheeks became sunken and her flesh wrinkled. Her
pallor turned sickly grey as if decayed tissue. The hollows of her eyes were
cast into shadow, and her pupils burned flame bright. “A good Daughter follows
her Father without question or doubt.” She harshly whispered the reprimand
shooting me a proud look.

My echoed avowal sent tremors of shame ripping
through the core of me.

As fast as it transformed, Marinette’s face
returned to normal, and the menacing pall lifted. “Bare your neck and learn
your lesson,” she said in a singsong voice, smiling prettily as if her visage
hadn’t been nightmarish.

Death had become a silent friend in my life. A dark
promise of paradise I toyed with. Too afraid to succumb myself, I perversely
pushed others to see if they’d take the plunge.

I was merciless in my quest for vengeance against
my birth family and insatiable in my anger at the world’s unfairness.

Even I
must have limits.

Weren’t there lines I would not – could not
– cross?

I thought of the old Coven Mother Eva marching into
the Nest where I’d been imprisoned and offering me freedom. I looked across at
her daughter moments from being torn apart in a gruesome death as good as
delivered by my hand if I did nothing.

“
Stop
.”
The word was wrenched from me. I yanked my hand from under Marinette’s grip.
“They’re mine. Stop this.”

The godling’s heated gaze turned frigid.

I realised then how close to death I danced.
Marinette regarded me as she had the hatchlings. Expendable. To her I was
nothing, an entity to play with then dead when I no longer amused.

She made a moue as her decision formed in the
hellish pits masquerading as her eyes.

Is this
how my victims felt before I guided them to death?

“In your honour,” she said, voice tinged with
warning, “I spare those standing. Those who flail on the ground….” Her smile
was terror incarnate, so pretty, so deadly. “Those blessed souls belong to me.”

I fought to keep my legs from folding, and directed
my attention to those I could save. “Come to me.”

Naomi and two others still on their feet hesitated
then staggered towards me. Naomi slipped on a puddle of fleshy innards and
skidded into my arms. I caught her then waited for the other women to reach my
side.