Between the Waters (Symphony of Light) (18 page)

I knew what must be done. Destiny. I had to free Cyril and release Overton from his binds to me. Losing him would crush me, but it was the right thing to do—the only choice left.

The cabin was dark, and the pit in my stomach grew as I approached the door. Not a key, but a ward protected it. Since I had Cyril’s blood it opened for me. The scent of cedar, spices, and aged parchment permeated the space, everything still in its place. The cup that once held tea he poured with breakfast, the
Book of Good Things
with my notes. My handprints clouded the glass from when we first made love. A flush started in my face and spread as I remembered all the delicious things we did in that room. God, I missed him. Oh Cyril.
I will get you back
.

I toyed with the necklace as I leafed through sisal-bound notebooks and assembled ingredients—mistletoe, river stones, lavender, and linden tree oil. Some of the tomes were impossible to read, written in languages long forgotten, but others revealed Cyril’s perfect script in formal English.

Hours passed, and as darkness fell, I lit a fire and candles. As a kettle of hot tea steeped, I watched the flickering lights and the magic each held. It amazed me how much of the world held the malleable essence. Fire, water, love, and hate all carried the energy to make the impossible possible when guided by the right conduit of force and compulsion from strong will.

A textbook would have been handy, but as Cyril taught, institution can be a tremendous guide when logic is applied, but when followed blindly, disaster is almost always certain. He warned me about making decisions in the heat of the moment, and as with most of his warnings, others—and I—had paid the price.

A loud knocking interrupted my studies and caused a drizzle of tea to land on my shirt.

“She better open the door, I’m fucking freezing. What the hell is she doing out here?
Come on, Linden! What the fuck is taking you so long?”

Clarence.

I ran to the door, grabbed the fire poker, and approached with caution. Clarence shouldn’t be here. I turned the handle, readied my weapon, and cracked the door.

“Come on! Let me in.”

“Clarence? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be out of the house.” I sat the stoker on the floor beside the door.

“Screw that. I’m tired of being cooped up.”

“How did you get here?”

“Sinclair’s Audi. He’s going to be pissed.”

“Why didn’t you say something before I left?”

“Because I knew you’d start bitching at me like you are now. I just wanted to check in on work, but Overton was whining about you taking so long. So I pulled up the tracking app on my phone, deciding that trying to find you would give me a better alibi for breaking out when that crazy fuck realizes his car is gone. Where in the hell are we?”

“This is Cyril’s cabin. Wait…tracking app?”

“It’s freezing out here, and you’re taking your good old time.” He took a step toward the door.

“Wait!” I pushed him back.

“What?”

“There’s a ward on the door. I don’t know what will happen to you. You have Cyril’s blood but…”

“I…I…wha…wha…what?” He crossed his arms, his teeth chattering.

“It’s a long story.”

“Hurry up. I’m freezing my balls off.”

I reached for his hand. “Give me.” I grabbed just the tip of his finger and led it across the barrier. Nothing. With that I grabbed his arm with both hands and yanked him inside. He stumbled past me, and I slammed the door closed.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I didn’t want you to disintegrate or vaporize. Cyril has a ward on the door.”

He walked over to the fire, rubbing his hands together. “What is all this stuff? What are you doing? Having a séance?”

“Cyril’s spell arsenal. I’m trying to get him back. Now about that tracker app…”

“Only after you tell me what you meant by me having Cyril’s blood.”

“No way.”

He walked to the teakettle, grabbed a mug from beside the sink, and poured the hot liquid. “Fine. Overton gave us all an app to track you. Something about you not being able to stay out of trouble. He said he needs an army to keep sight of you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, really?” His overprotectiveness was getting a little extreme.

“Spill it. I have Cyril’s blood?”

I sat on the stool opposite him at the breakfast nook. “Yes, it’s one of the ingredients to ‘make.’ I fed you my blood, which has Cyril’s, it wasn’t enough though.”

He raised an eyebrow.

I raised the cup to my mouth and whispered over the rim, “The beast made a donation too.”

“What?”

“You heard me. The beast was created using Cyril’s blood, so I gave that to you too. Stop giving me that look.”

“You’re like…like…fucking Frankenstein. The doctor, not the monster.”

“Whatever…you’re out of the house, now what? I can’t you have you annoying me. I have work to do. Either help or leave.”

He sat his cup on the counter. “I’ll help. Aren’t you at all tempted to leave that sexy pain in the ass where he is and see where things lead with the hot doc?”

I glared at him, afraid to say anything more than, “No.”

He stood and walked to the nearest table. “OK, what am I looking for?” His fingers caressed the cover of a tome covered in pressed leaves.

“Any reference to a bond or the God Maker.” I couldn’t tell Clarence that I already had a possible solution to Cyril’s issue hanging around my neck; we were here to save Overton.

“Okie. The big guy writes like a girl.”

Dust billowed out a leather-bound volume. “You can tell him that once I get him back.”

“What do you think he’s going to do about you?”

I held the page still as I looked up at Clarence. “What do you mean?”

“Well…you have been fucking things up left and right since he…”

“Died. That’s what he did, Clarence. He died.” I slammed the book closed, sending a wave of small particles into the candlelight.

“OK, touchy subject. I’ll just be right over here.” He pulled a stool up to a high table that contained numerous tomes.

It was quiet except for the rushing water and Clarence’s constant stream of thoughts. After a while they started to seem like static, and I was able to focus past them. No wonder Cyril missed so much even though it was all there for the taking.

“Holy shit. This is it. She could undo it all. Should I tell her? She seems happy. What if she undoes the bond and they hate her? I like it there.”

“What did you find?”

“Ahhhh…”

I strode toward him. “I already know you found something. Move.” I didn’t knock him off the stool, but almost. He grabbed the seat to steady himself.

Cyril’s words were spread across the page.

I don’t know when I’ll do it. I don’t know if she’ll want it. I can feel her desire for me and in her eyes I see love, but she’s young and I can’t strip her life from her. But if one day she should choose me, I have woven this spell to bind us closer than any human marriage. The ring of woven darkness will be my conduit. Our souls will crave each other and our bodies find no greater pleasure. I will seal the enchantment with a kiss—my blood-laced kiss will binds us.

I looked down at my hand. He knew. Overton knew how to break the bond that forced him and all the others to love me all along. The ring.

But even with every component in hand, will was still a factor. Could I make myself believe that I wanted to let him go enough to reverse the spell? It was one thing to know what was right; it was an entirely different thing to desire it with every ounce of your soul. I wouldn’t be able to fool the magic. Fuck! There was no way I could pull it off. Why couldn’t it be a sprinkle of salt or hocus-pocus? Why did it have to be so hard, yet so simple? Son of a bitch.

“What was that?” I stood up straight.

“Sounded like car door closing. Question is, are they coming for you or for me?”

“I’ll take care of it.” I walked to the door fully expecting Overton, Rhys, or Sinclair. It was his car after all.

I opened the door. What the fuck? “Impossible!”

She stopped fiddling with the bag in her hand and looked up, equally startled, her eyes wide.

“I killed you! You’re supposed to be dead.”

Mary dropped the bag, turned, and sped as fast as she could toward the black Jeep.

“Clarence! We gotta go.”

We made quick work of the open flames, grabbed our coats, and ran to the car. I thanked God that Mary’s tires spun. It gave us time to catch up. I bent down and grabbed the bag she dropped on the ground. I opened the driver’s door on the Audi, sat the bag on my lap, and stretched out my hand. Clarence opened the passenger door and placed the keys in my hand.

“Why not the Bentley?”

I started the car and threw it in reverse. While stomping on the gas, I looked back to make sure I wouldn’t hit anything. “I’m not fucking up his car again.”

“We’re chasing a dead woman and you give consideration to the man’s car? I told you, you’re in love.”

The car jerked and lunged forward when I threw it in drive and slammed on the gas.

“Fuck you, Clarence. The Audi is all-wheel drive, plus I’m tempted to sideswipe something after the little trial by ice he put me through in his dream the other night.”

The car slid, spilling some of the contents of Mary’s bag. “Here take this and see if you can find anything.” I slammed the bag against Clarence’s chest.

The freshly fallen snow made it a bitch to keep the car on the road, but it made following a breeze.

“Nothing out of the norm, except for this.” He held up a small piece of metal. It was circular with a loop through one end. It looked like a small medallion or charm with a green gem at the center. I caught a glimpse of writing on it, but couldn’t draw my attention away from the road long enough to read it. “What does it say?”

Clarence turned it over. “It’s just a bunch of numbers.”

“How can she still be living without a soul? I took it out of the beast. I felt it die.”

“Are you sure Mary was dead? Could she have been faking?”

“I doubt it. Overton would have noticed.”

“Let’s get that bitch and make her talk.” He placed the tote on the floor.

“That’s going to be a little difficult.”

“Why?”

I glided across a stretch of road and gritted my teeth, hoping we wouldn’t impact the guardrail. On a sigh of relief I uttered, “She has no tongue.”

“No tongue? Are you serious?”

“Yes. The guys rescued her from one the goddess’s creations, named Vidius, who enslaved her and cut out her tongue so she couldn’t tell his secrets. They brought her home. She had been living in house for years until I arrived.” I turned on to a road that had recently been salted, but still allowed me to trail the black Jeep.

“That’s fucked up.”

“I know. Speaking of fucked up, how have you been feeling lately?”

He smacked me lightly on the arm. “Very funny. I keep trying to change into it. If I could learn to control it, it could be awesome. Have you seen some of those things the guys have been hunting? I’d be perfect in beast form.”

“I haven’t seen one personally, but Rhys has been telling me about them—a demon of some sort. He said that when there’s a big disturbance in the fabric holding this realm together, things sneak through.”

“I know. Rhys told me it’s been going on since Cyril got here. They even had one creature break through that wasn’t hostile and it lived with them until it died, but these new ones are nasty. It seems lover boy is responsible for every ghost story ever told.”

“I keep thinking I’m going to wake up at any moment.” We hit the summit of Laurel Mountain and started our decent. There was still just enough daylight left that I could see the jeep in the distance, so we weren’t too far behind. I gripped the steering wheel, trying to maintain control of the car as I used the steep grade to pick up speed.

Brake lights flashed, and the Jeep disappeared into the wooded landscape. As I approached the turnoff, I asked, “Should we call for backup? I mean, last time I did get you killed. I want nothing more than to find out what she’s up to, but I won’t risk you again.”

He placed his hand on my leg; I stared into his beautiful, large brown eyes. “Linden, I know I gave you shit, and when I stop to think of it I can’t say I’m not hurt by what happened to Lance, but I’m stronger now, and you, my friend, are kickass. I don’t think I would have been so worried if had I known you were Grim’s protégé.”

“We got lucky. I had no idea what I was doing.” I placed my hand on his. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t. We’ll be smart about it. She owes us some answers.”

I placed my hand back on the steering wheel and turned down the long, winding drive that cut through the woods. It was asphalt and had been professionally cleared of snow.

Pinpoints of lights appeared in the distance.

“Whoa.” Clarence slammed his hand against the door.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I feel really strange. Sort of lightheaded.” His other hand went to his forehead. His thoughts raced more than usual. Instead of static with the occasional breakthrough of words or visions, his mind buzzed.

As we drew closer to the lights, a large industrial-looking building rose out of the landscape. A high fence surrounded a clearing that led to a large illuminated entry. I turned off the car lights and pulled over.

Clarence’s arms trembled. His body started to shake. “What the fuck is going on with me?”

“Calm down. You can’t afford an adrenaline spike. You’re not going to have a full-blown a panic attack on me. Get out of the car. The fresh air might do you good. Deep breaths. Just calm down.”

The cold was biting, but not frigid at this lower elevation. “Stay here. I’m just going to walk to the bend and take a look.”

“No!”

“Shhhh…I don’t want her to know we’re here.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m going with you. The last time we split up this didn’t go so well, if you remember.”

“Yeah, OK. Fine.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as he shivered.

“Walk on the road. Not on the snow. I don’t want her tracking us.” The corner was only a few hundred feet away.