Annie's Song (8 page)

He met her gaze, feeling the knife blade move as he swallowed. “I find whatever it is you’re looking for, and you leave them alone.”

She smiled, and it sent a chill through him. “Smart and talented. Explaining my every move does get tiresome. Are we on the same page, Zach?”

“Yes.” He knew Mom would look for him, but he would do his best to keep this pseudo witch from harming her. No matter what it took. “We are on the same page.”

“Excellent.” She pulled the knife away, and before he could let out a breath in relief, poked it against his ribs. He felt blood trickle down his side under his sweater. “Now it is time to perform your magic.”

She pushed him forward, heading away from town, and any help. Zach stumbled, and let out a harsh cry as the blade scraped across his ribs.

Diana jerked him up, her strength surprising him again. “Quiet, boy. Make another sound and this blade will take a good, long taste. Trust me, you do not want that to happen.”

Her laughter raised the hair on his arms. Swallowing, flinching as the shallow cut on his throat stung from the movement, he focused on staying upright as she dragged him across an uneven field. Pain licked at the knife wounds, deeper and more draining than it should have been with such minor cuts.

When his vision blurred, Zach knew the knife that wounded him was more than just a knife. He just hoped the spell on it wasn’t fatal.

ELEVEN

“
W
here’s Zach?” Annie looked up at Claire’s sharp voice. Busy settling Eric in, supervising Marcus—much to his annoyance—she lost track of time, and was surprised to see the sun heading for the horizon.

“He went to Penn and Michelle’s store, to thank them for helping us. And to poke around, I’m sure. You know how much he loves hanging around the store at home.”

“He should have been back by now.” Claire grabbed her jacket off the rack near the door. “I’m going to—”

“Check on him?”

“We’re in a foreign country, Annie. I have every right to be worried.”

“Yeah—and he has every right to explore.” She eased Claire away from the door. “You got him a phone. Call him.”

Letting out her breath, Claire pulled the phone out of her pocket and tapped in his number. “Zach, where are . . .” Her voice faded, and she stared at the phone. “It went to voicemail.”

“So he turned it off—”

“He hasn’t turned that phone off since I gave it to him. I think he sleeps with it. Something is wrong.”

“Claire.” Marcus horned in on the conversation. “What is it?”

“Zach. I know I’m being the overprotective mother, but I feel off. And I don’t like it.” Annie grabbed her coat. “No, Annie. I need to do this alone. Zach will be embarrassed enough when I come charging in and he’s just sightseeing. Both of us may leave him scarred for life.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just keep your phone on. I’ll call if I need the cavalry. And you two, behave. Eric needs his rest.”

Annie crossed her arms. “I will, if he will.” She glared over at Marcus, tried not to smile when he bowed.

“As you command.”

“Smartass.”

With a smile, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Now I have been properly welcomed. Go find your son, Claire.”

The kiss he gave Claire was much less platonic. Rolling her eyes, Annie moved to the bed and checked on Eric again. He was sleeping, his face no longer etched with pain. The last bit of weight slid off her heart. Pressing her lips to his forehead, she stood, relieved that he didn’t have a fever. Just one broken ankle and a mess of bruises.

Marcus still had his arms around Claire. Annie cleared her throat.

Taking the hint, he stepped back. “Call if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” She moved out into the hall, Annie following after her. “Am I being overprotective?”

“I think you’re entitled, Claire. It’s been, what—less than six months? And you have no idea what new talent is going to pop up. If anything, you’re remarkably well adjusted. And so is Zach.” She draped one arm over Claire’s shoulders and led her to the elevator. “He is loved and he knows it. You’ve got one great kid, honey. Now you have to trust him a little.”

*

P
enn frowned when Claire showed up, asking for Zach. “He left more than an hour ago. Chelle?” Michelle stepped out of the back room. “Did you see where Zach headed when he left?”

“Toward the hotel.” Those clear brown eyes studied Claire. “He wouldn’t have gone much farther. He was exhausted.”

Claire nodded. “Jet lag. We just arrived today—”

“He found Michelle’s missing locket.”

Silence wrapped around them. Claire let out a shaky breath. “You didn’t prevent him from doing so?”

“Hell, no,” Penn said. “I saw how much he was hurting over it. We both did. And you didn’t know.” She touched Claire’s wrist, fingers brushing the triquetra tattooed there, the scar cutting it in half. “He said it hurts if he can’t find something once he knows where it is. I thought he was going to keel over before he—”

“Enough, Penn.” Michelle gently pushed her aside, took Claire’s hand when she started to leave. “We will help you. We’ve been here a couple of years now, and the locals will talk to us more readily than a stranger. Zach is a striking boy; he’ll be remembered. We’ll split up, cover more ground.”

“Thank you.” Claire felt her nerves shredding. Standing here talking, when Zach could be hurt, or worse—

Don’t head down that path.

“We’ll find him,” Michelle said. She closed her other hand over Claire’s, started rubbing it. “You’re like ice. Are you okay?”

“Once we find Zach, I will be fine . . .” Heat flared through her amethyst heart. She closed her hand over it—and her fingers clenched as an image of Zach burst into her mind.

“Claire?” Penn’s voice filtered through the panic. “Come on now, open your eyes.” She obeyed, flinching at the bright light, met Penn’s worried gaze. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“Zach,” she whispered. “He’s in trouble.”

*

Z
ach felt his amethyst flare, and could do nothing to stop it, or the message he knew it flashed straight to his mom. It was the one solid connection to her he couldn’t control. He just hoped she didn’t understand what it meant.

Diana pulled him toward the standing stones he’d read about in the guidebook. They shimmered in the late afternoon light, the power from the ley lines like a rainbow around them. Whatever Diana wanted, if it was inside that ring of stone and power, he wouldn’t find it easily. And he was sure she wouldn’t take that news well.

“It is a simple thing, really.” Her voice grated, jumping higher with her excitement. “I found it quite by accident, and kept it to myself.” Wind lifted the ends of her short brown hair. She shoved at it, her movements almost frantic. And that scared Zach more than the knife she kept waving around. “I may not be the most talented witch in Briarton, but I understand real power. This will give me what I have always wanted. What I deserve.”

They had just reached the first stone when he heard the shout.

Mom—no—

She came straight at them, halting when Diana jerked him in front of her and dug the knife into his jaw.

Mom clenched her fists, but her voice came out calm. “Let him go.”

“Get out of here! You don’t belong, you can’t have it—I won’t let you have it!”

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.” Mom raised her hands, opened them. Next to this crazy, manic woman, she looked serene, beautiful. Power she didn’t think she had glowed from the amethyst heart, surrounding her. Zach blinked, like he was really seeing her for the first time. Her next words drove straight into his heart. “I only want my son.”

“And I need him, to find it. He has to find it—”

The image slammed into his mind and he doubled, barely feeling the knife scrape across his jaw as he went down.

“Zach!”

“Stay back.” Diana crouched next to him, and he felt the blade cut into his left side. “One step closer and I will stab him. Then there will be nothing you can do to save him.” The blade slid in deeper, and Zach recoiled, the pain like a white hot poker under his skin. “He will live long enough to find what I need. Do you want to watch him die in agony?”

“Take the knife away from him.” Mom’s voice was deadly quiet. He only heard that tone when he was in serious trouble. “I will do as you ask. Just stop hurting him. Please.” She whispered that last word, and Zach forced his eyes open.

Mom had backed away, near the standing stone, her face white. He wanted to tell her he’d be okay, but he didn’t believe it himself. And right now he could barely take in a breath, never mind talk. The image of what Diana wanted pressed deeper into his mind, crowding out everything but the desperate need to find it. Now.

Diana jerked the knife free, and he let out a raw cry. The pain cleared his head, long enough for him to see the look on his mom’s face.

“No,” he whispered.

“I love you, Zach.”

Panic tore through him—and she lunged forward, tackling Diana, taking them both to the ground.

“Mom—” He crawled toward them, fresh pain dogging every move. Mom rolled over, trapping Diana, and punched her, reaching for the knife. Diana screamed, lashing out. The tip of the blade sliced across Mom’s left cheek.

She fell backward, blood staining her face. And Diana moved faster than he thought possible.

Silver flashed, and Zach froze, watching the knife move, almost in slow motion, as it angled down.

“Diana—
no
!” He shouted the denial, and the world sped up. The knife plunged into his mom’s right shoulder, and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t save her.

“No . . . please—” He lurched forward, ignoring the pain “Mom—” He stilled when Diana yanked the blade free.

“The next strike will kill her.” Diana let go, and Mom hit the ground. The low moan drove through Zach. This was his fault, all of it. She wouldn’t be hurt—she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Diana’s voice snapped him back. “You find what I need, and I will give you what she needs to live.”

“No, Zach—”

“Yes,” he said, talking over the choked whisper. Tears burned his eyes as he crawled over to her. “I have to find it, Mom. I can’t—” He swallowed, the image starting to focus. “I can’t stop until I find it. I won’t stop, if it saves you.”

Pain flared in Mom’s eyes, and something he didn’t expect, something that shook him. Pride.

“Diana.” Her whisper hurt him, so faint, edged with so much pain. Diana leaned in, smiling. Zach wanted to wipe that smile off her face. With his fist. “You harm so much as a hair on Zach, I will come after you like the hounds of Hell. And trust me,” she said, her smile more deadly than her words. “I know more than a bit about Hell.”

With a panicked squeak, Diana lurched backward and grabbed Zach’s arm, the bloody knife hovering in front of him. “All he has to do is find something for me. Once he does so, he will be returned to you, unharmed. And will remain unharmed, as long as there is no retaliation.”

The image sharpened, flared in his mind. A box. She wanted a box—

With a harsh gasp he went down.

“Zach—” Mom tried to reach for him, let out a low cry and doubled over her bleeding shoulder. After an endless second she spoke. “Hell, Diana. It will feel like a vacation compared to what I’ll do if you hurt him.” She looked at Zach, a smile touching her mouth. Then her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, not moving.

“Mom—” It took all the strength he could gather, but he moved to her, felt for a pulse, his heart pounding so hard it left him lightheaded. He found it, relief crashing through the panic. And curled in on himself as a new and ugly pain twisted through him. The box—whatever was in the box reached for him, wanting, needing to be free.

“You saw it.” Diana crouched over him, the stench of sweat and the patchouli coating his nose, lodging in his throat. “The box—you know where it is.” He nodded, clutching his stomach. Whatever was in that box, it emitted a power he’d never felt before. A power that scared him so much, for the first time he didn’t want to find it. No matter how much it hurt. “Get up. Now, boy. Time is ticking away, and your poor mum is dying.”

Zach pressed one hand against his left side, managed to get to his knees, the pain easing faster than he was used to. He realized why as he looked over at the standing stones. The box was there.

“Tell me you found it.” Diana’s high-pitched voice scraped over his ears. He tried not to flinch.

“It’s close.” Pretending he didn’t see her hand, he stood on his own, his legs shaky, the shallow knife wounds burning hotter with every breath. “But before I take another step, it’s time for let’s make a deal.”

“What are you—”

“The second I give you the box, we’re done.”

“Ah.” She crossed her arms, smiling as she looked up at him. “You think you have the upper hand. Please allow me to enlighten you.” Dread crawled up his spine. “This knife?” She waved it in front of his face, Mom’s blood still staining it. “It carries a spell, and a nasty one at that. Whoever owned this blade had quite the temper. When it impales completely, it releases an ugly, irreversible poison. Even if the wound is not fatal the person will die. No need to worry for yourself, boy. Your cuts were too shallow to do more than hurt you, maybe cause more than the usual discomfort. But your mum—hers is a killing wound.”

Everything in him stilled, and for the first time, he understood the desire to kill. Before Diana could stop him he knelt beside Mom. Her chest rose and fell, a slight movement that scared the hell out of him. He clutched his amethyst. Her heartbeat pulsed through it, slow. Too slow. “Is there a counter spell?”

Diana smiled. He wanted to punch her. “Ah, you are a witch’s child. Yes, there is a counter spell. Find the box, and it is yours.”

Without another word, Zach pushed to his feet, moved to one of the standing stones. Only the pain from his knife wounds hounded him as he got closer to his target. Instead of the pain of finding, a dark, hot need whispered across his skin. He knew it came from whatever was trapped in the box. Just the brush of that power terrified him, and he planned to get both him and Mom as far away as fast as possible after he located the box.