Somewhere halfway to the beach Reveca was racing toward, she felt King emerge on the bike behind her.
Judge was riding right next to her.
Talon was only five or so miles behind them, and she was sure, from the flames she could still see in her rearview mirror, that Rush, Scorpio, and Cashton were not that much further off.
Even though Latour and Chalice’s souls were with Crass, their bodies had to be handled. What the fire did not consume, the gators surely would, and if they didn’t—well, Reveca would deal with it later.
Right now, she had the vengeance of a Goddess rushing through her—one of her own was in danger.
She had been so caught up in this other bullshit that she had not taken the time to make sure the girl was protected, side by side with a witch. In all truth, she never imagined Gwinn leaving her side, but that was no excuse, and she knew it.
The woman who covers every base had dropped the ball.
King took control of the bike and veered into Judge’s, grasping the handlebar and Judge’s hand with his long reach.
Seconds later, both bikes and all riders skidded out across a sandy beach.
“What’s happening?” Reveca yelled, looking down the beach. There were lavender flames as far as the eye could see, a barricade.
“She’s not back,” King began. “We can’t track her, but her body is here, and Gwinn is frantic—she said the spell is wrong and wants Miriam.”
Reveca furrowed her brow.
“I know,” King said.
“What do you know?” Judge asked, charging him. He needed to know what the hell was going on right now. Seconds ago, he was heading to Adair’s Church, and now he was on a beach. He had to know where he needed to be so he could move there.
Right then, his head was twisting as he rode, chasing Reveca to wherever she was going, his mind doing its best to sort out what were dreams, fantasy—and what had happened.
It was more than what had gone down with Chalice all those years ago. His memories about Adair were the same, but ever so slightly altered. There was an understanding about her, almost like she expected him to push her away, but at the same time, she was as he remembered her to be, a feisty woman who tested and confused him at every turn.
There was more, his Zen over the past few years, if he really took a second to think about it…they were the best dreams he’d ever had, but they were also full of pain because they shaped the impossible. A broken promise. A life he never had a chance to live.
“Miriam is a mirror,” Reveca yelled, stepping between Judge and King. “Escorts can throw them, convincingly so—they can appear in more than one place at once. Their essences are real, and no one would doubt them, not unless you were really looking for it.”
“The illusions,” Judge confirmed with a curt nod, not even catching that Miriam was an Escort, as he looked in every direction. He could smell Adair, but he could not feel her, he was near panic at this point. It felt like his entire life was coming to a head, that what he knew of it was about to die. For better or worse, he was sure it was.
“She did that, too. Look, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but King was sure. It’s the only way she could have had the blond start the fight in the lounge and have a conversation with Adair at the same time the other night. Illusion spells take over an image—mirrors create another. We sent her to Jamison to figure out where the hell she came from. She is weak, so much so, if she didn’t slip up the way she did, we would have never known.”
Judge flew his hands in the air. “And why do I care?”
“For the spell,” King stated, grabbing them both and moving them two hundred feet down beach.
There they found Dagen, Sven, Shade, and Gwinn, who was frantically hovering over Adair’s body.
Judge went for Adair but then drew his weapon and glared toward the darkness to where he saw Mia.
“That’s all he does,” Shade informed him with a glare over his shoulder.
Gwinn was on her feet and in Reveca’s face. “They won’t take me to Miriam. I have to see her. I have to—it was what Jade said.”
“What did Jade say?” Reveca demanded.
“The spell to re-cast the power over the dead, we needed blood of the blameless, righteous, impossible, and a sinner. When Jade told Adair about it, she opened with the idea that Adair should kill Miriam because, you know, she’s a whore. I have to have her blood!”
Reveca glanced to King, who admired how Jade managed to get things done—by provoking. They had just that morning discovered Miriam was, without a doubt, a mirror. They had been testing her will since the moment Judge had briefed them on Adair’s side of the story about what went down the night Talon was nearly pulled into Ambrosia’s world—Miriam didn’t break until she saw Jamison, and she begged to stay at the Boneyard. Which was something Reveca would ponder later—Jamison was anything but cruel. Miriam had other reasons she wanted to be at the Boneyard, ones that would undoubtedly turn up in time.
Jade telling Adair to cut Miriam could have simply been her wanting the Club to figure it out sooner—if Adair had sliced Miriam, she would not have bled—black smoke would have seeped out—the sign of a dark Escort being harmed.
“Do you have the blood of the others?” Reveca asked.
Gwinn knelt down to her pile. She had a stick covered in dried blood, a leaf with fresh blood, and a cross stained in blood.
To be safe, and to ensure the balance was right, Shade, with the help of Sven, had gone back to where Chalice had cut his hand open and brought Gwinn the blood she needed. Mia freely offered his, and the necklace was certainly coated in enough blameless blood.
Reveca stared down at Adair’s body, at how rapid her eyes were moving behind her lids. She could hear how quick her heart was beating, how short her breath was. She knew she was near the end of her journey.
In the distance, she heard the roar of bikes. Talon had arrived and very well could be about to watch his daughter die, and Judge set to watch his lover be tortured by evil.
“Start the spell, Gwinn,” Reveca demanded.
“But—”
“Now.”
Everyone, including King, was staring at Reveca waiting for her orders, who to go and get—what blood.
A sinner by definition meant “a person who transgresses against divine law by committing an immoral act or acts,” but every definition can be debated. For what was considered an immoral act would vary from soul to soul and time to time.
In all truth, a sinner was someone who accepted guilt, who understood what they were doing was wrong. Someone who sought acceptance and forgiveness for their actions, otherwise they were nothing more than souls who did what they deemed right even though others saw it as vile.
Reveca had never once met a soul who was not a sinner. Everyone harbored some degree of guilt and shame.
But there was one soul she was aware of who was weighted with wicked deeds, who had committed immoral acts and found guilt for them.
She reached for the knife on her belt and pulled it free.
Everyone there stepped forward ready to give their blood, whatever she needed.
Even Talon, Rush, Chaston, and Scorpio who had just arrived and at best heard at a distance what Gwinn needed put their arms forward, each huddled close, hovering over Adair.
Reveca met each of their eyes, her eyes glinting with emotion as they settled on Talon’s then King’s.
“A sinner lies to himself first…and a sinner forgives himself last.”
Everyone lifted their arms just a bit higher, sure she was speaking of them.
She flinched a smile. “And only a sinner knows their true demons.”
Before they could lean in further, Reveca sliced her hand, and her blood poured down onto the fire Gwinn had begun. Gwinn went to speak, but Reveca said the words first.
This spell had come from a book Reveca had loathed as a child. The spells were always one word per page and set in a pattern.
Like a fool, you always assume
d finding the spell was the challenge, and once you did, it was only a matter of mixing.
But it was never as simple as it seemed. Invariably, one component had to be stronger than the others; its strength guided the spell.
Any sinner would have worked, but a sinner soaked in recent guilt, a sinner who was a skilled witch, an original witch, and infused with the vim of an Escort would make this spell unbreakable.
As she said the words, lavender fire erupted where the blood fell. Judge fell over Adair, protecting her from the flame.
The wind picked up, and the sultry night turned frigid for precious moments—so cold the flames magically froze.
As the wind died, Reveca held her hand out to Gwinn, wanting the empty vile she had in her hand. The one that moments before had the wrong potion inside of it.
Gwinn handed it to her carefully.
Both witches stared at the frozen flame with the utmost respect, both moving so carefully you would think they were diffusing a bomb, and in some real sense they were.
The sacred language of the Dominarum Coven left Reveca’s lips as she commanded the frozen fire to come.
Like a snake, it slowly slithered from its frozen hold and glided into the vile.
Once it was all there, Reveca sealed the top, and Gwinn remembered to breath.
Gwinn took it and carefully placed it in the bag Adair had with her.
“Is it going to matter if this is not what she left with? I mean, I know other things she had in there are now gone.”
“You know for sure?” Reveca pushed.
Gwinn didn’t. Adair wasn’t sure if her plan was moral, if it would not become a trap, or feel like one to others, but last Gwinn knew, Adair was set on the idea—she said she was sure Finley saw it come to be.
“Maybe?” Gwinn said, glancing to Judge, knowing he was the last one to see her, and if Adair was pissed at him for locking her in her temple, there was no telling where she stood before she left.
“We’re not going to know. At best, we are giving the spell a chance,” Reveca stated.
“At worst, we’re creating another Zale—this will make Akan undefeatable. He had to have fooled Adair, shifted into Miriam’s image. She left this afternoon to get her blood and came back with as much—Akan had a slash on his arm, the guard said Adair did it.”
The rage from Sons literally boiled the air. The Escorts all shared a cold glance—Adair, even if she didn’t know it, was one of them, and no one crosses them and lives to tell the tale. Undefeatable or not.
“Tuck it in deep,” Reveca ordered Gwinn.
Moments moved by as each of them watched Adair suffer.
“We need to move her. Back to the Boneyard, somewhere,” Judge argued. His skin was prickling, he knew he could feel evil in the air, swarming just above, laughing at how helpless they all were. At how all their gifts, their skills, could do nothing to protect one of their own from the dark magic at play.
“No matter where we take her, her soul will go to her body,” Gwinn said.
“Why would she go here? She can’t even remember it!” Judge raged.
“You do not have to remember,” Shade said stoically from Gwinn’s side. “You just have to be aware of a point in time. She is more than aware of this time.”
All at once, King, Dagen, and Sven glanced to each other then all around.
“What?” Judge asked.
“She’s here,” King announced calmly.
“Where?” Talon demanded.
“Everywhere,” Dagen answered, looking up then all around.
“You’re not right,” Judge muttered under his breath.
“Holy Mother of Christ,” Rush gasped, crossing himself as he stared down the beach, causing every one to follow his gaze.
Finley was there, running for her life.
Mia vanished from sight, and the Escorts were not far behind him. Most of the Sons took off after them all.
“Did she bring the past back with her?” Talon demanded of Reveca.
“No,” Shade said, rising to his feet, pulling Gwinn up with him. “She opened the Fold.”
Judge was torn. He didn’t know if he should follow the others or stay and protect Adair’s body…her very alive body that he could feel under his hands.
“The what?” Talon demanded.
“The place where time doesn’t really move,” Shade responded, looking down at his boy, sure he was in for the shock of his life—that is, if Shade had understood what his little witchling and Adair had plotted somewhat covertly this morning. Now all their bantering questions made sense to him.
“I don’t think Finley really died,” Shade said, glancing to Talon and then Reveca. He still was uncomfortable claiming any knowledge of this Voyager past he had. It made him feel like an outsider to the Sons, something he never wanted to feel. “At least not now that we are on this current of time. Adair could’ve pushed her into a Fold, pushing the real fight back until tonight when the curse was at term.”
“Why would she do that for Finley and not herself?” Judge raged. He shook his head. “You’re wrong. I have already come across things she has changed tonight. I know how it makes what did happen seem like a dream. I fucking remember Finley’s dead body, I remember Adair—”
Gwinn reached for his shoulders. “You remember what she wanted you to. Saw what everyone, good and evil needed to believe that night.”
Judge searched Gwinn’s mind with his knowing stare, looking for answers he didn’t have time to ask right now. And he discovered the last one he expected to find answered—the one that backed up what he thought were only dreams on the drive here.
Gwinn nodded once when she saw the shock in his gaze, not really sure how he was taking Adair’s downright beautiful plan, her absurd, breathtaking plan. No evil could have fathomed such a thing.
“Did—did it work?” Judge asked as his hands gripped Adair’s shoulders.
Gwinn lifted a shoulder as her eyes welled.
“Did what work?” Talon demanded.
Reveca’s eyes alit with a smile she would not let surface on her face, not until she was sure this was resolved. “Adair might have found a way to break this curse, the only way she could have,” she glanced at Talon. “And I’m pretty damn sure she got the idea from her own mother’s actions.”
Talon popped his brow up, knowing Brosia was the queen of brash ideas.
“Did it fucking work?” Judge yelled again. He needed someone to tell him it had.
“Something did,” Shade said. “Finley wouldn’t be here now if didn’t.”
Gwinn broke away from Judge’s dumbstruck gaze and looked down the beach. “They’re blocked, that is the reason for the fire,” Gwinn said as her expression fell. In the distance, no one could reach Finley, and she was not responding to any one of them as they said her name. “The death Finley escaped has to be resolved before the fires can even begin to think of dwindling. Then it’s the curse…he will hunt her.”
“And we can protect her then, right? Move her?” Judge asked.
Shade shook his head slightly. “If the Fold is open, brother, and something happens to Finley…we need to protect what’s there.”
Reveca’s gaze was locked on the scene down the beach. “If there is anything in the Fold…this is all over.”
In a way, watching Finley was like watching a ghost relive their final horror. Reveca doubted any action of hers was different than the past.
All at once, Adair’s body started to fade under Judge’s touch.
“No, no, no, no!” he bellowed, grasping her, but within in seconds, his hands only grabbed sand.
Desperately, he looked up at Reveca.
She was already staring down at him, at her helpless boy. “All we can do is watch…the curse rests on her shoulders.”
“No!” Judge roared as he moved himself in one beat to the haunting barricade.
Finley was arguing with no one, pushing against thin air.
And then she rocked back. Rig
ht as she did, as if he was always there, Talley appeared.
Mia’s chain could enter the fire barrier, but he could not. He circled the fire ring, whipping it like lash trying to reach Talley, and when he couldn’t, he strived to at least distract him. Nothing worked.
Everyone cringed as Talley drew his knife and sliced through Finley.
Chapter Three
White. Everything was white.
When Adair felt the wind come for her again, she was sure she’d see her Church all around her, she’d be safe there while she recovered and prepared to fight—for no matter what, Talley was still coming for her. If Adair had broken the curse, she wouldn’t know until she was face to face with him.
But she was wrong. It was all white.
Adair was lying on a cool floor, and there was a white haze hiding her hands, the lower part of her body was in a fog. She could hear a hum, the careful sound with the slightest ring she always heard when she meditated…the breath of the universe as Finley had called it.
Adair felt like she had run a marathon, one that went on and on, and she was now resting. This was the stage right after one’s breath returns and the urge to move again is present, but the limbs are heavy, numb, and tingling. The soul is willing, but the body felt the need to argue.
As she laid there and calmed herself as much as she could, she mused over the changes she had made. She had imagined her memories would vary if there was any real impact, or at the very least, she would remember a dual past.
She couldn’t really remember Judge telling her anything differently about his family. He knew who killed them, and he was hungry for vengeance. The experience of losing them all in one fell swoop had made him a cold warrior. He was determined to fight whatever war he needed to if it would ultimately defeat Zale, the mastermind behind all the paranormal wars the Club fought.
The loss of them all had also made him fight the idea of falling in love with her. He loved his boys, and losing one of them would cut him open wide, but at the same time, they all signed up for danger, for the hell and threats wars bring. Loving a woman? Someone who was young and mortal and had not signed up for any evil nor deserved to face the wrath of ages of enemies terrified him. He knew the loss of her would destroy him, what little humanity she drew out of him.