Halfway Hexed (40 page)

I stepped close to him. “Answer me this,” I said softly. “If there was a baby. Yours and mine. Would you swear never to take her away from me without my permission?”

He raised his brows. “Are you?”

“No—I don’t know. Just answer.”

“How could I take her away when I’ve just admitted I’m prepared to do anything to be near you?”

“Would you swear a blood vow, a permanent vow, never to take her? Even if you stopped being in love with me?”

“Tammy!” Aunt Melanie said with a gasp. “Was that Great-Grandma Lenore’s prophecy? You can’t risk it! For God’s sake, you don’t want to have to fight someone like him for custody. If you lose, you’ll never get over it. He’ll promise you anything right now, but long-term, you don’t understand what magic and ambition can do to someone.”

Bryn’s glance at her was so cool that I took a step back. He caught my hand and held it.

“My will is stronger than that. Ambition doesn’t rule me, and it never will. The way I’ve lived my life is proof of that.” He pulled me closer and put his mouth near my ear. “I’ll never take a child away from you, even if it’s half mine. And yes, I’ll swear to that in a blood vow.”

Tears dripped from my eyes, mixing with the rain running down my face. Aunt Mel would think I was crazy and dumb to ignore her advice. The family I loved versus a guy I barely knew? It should’ve been easy to choose. Only it wasn’t.

“Your children with him could have magic so distorted it may be unusable. Would you risk that?” Mrs. Thornton asked me.

I looked at her. “I’m not even sure my magic’s ever going to work right, which is maybe why I decided a long time ago that magic’s not the most important thing in life,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, well, that is one philosophy.” She glanced at John Barrett. “The lanterns have gone out.”

He turned and exhaled, blowing blue-white flames toward the woods. Lanterns at the base of a pair of trees burned to life, revealing two men—chained and gagged, their sagging bodies bloody from a recent beating.

Oh God, no!
Andre and Lennox. Bryn’s best friend and his father. I cringed, ashamed to be related to her. How could she have done something so awful?

“Will you choose her over everyone? Over life itself?” she asked Bryn.

“Aunt Margaret, no!” Melanie said.

“I won’t choose,” Bryn said.

They all raised their hands at once. Bryn and Barrett and Aunt Margaret. The magic clashed in a thunderous roar. Her blast knocked us down. Aunt Mel tumbled onto the incline and screamed as she slid down the mountain. It was like she was on a waterslide, careening out of control into the darkness.

“Aunt Mel!” I yelled.

“I’m okay,” she called back.

I swiveled and shot John Barrett in the leg. He crumpled, but my bullet aimed at Mrs. Thornton ricocheted off and hit a rock. She glared and jerked her hand toward Bryn. I threw myself in front of him. Ice sliced through my chest, and I felt my heartbeat hiccup and slow.

I couldn’t move as Bryn dragged me behind a boulder. The pain in my chest suffocated me for several moments, then my heart’s steady thump sped to normal.

“She meant to kill you,” I said.

“I know.” He extended his arms up and spoke in Gaelic. Light from the sky pierced his hands, bending and coursing through me, too. Black and stinging.

“Stop!” I wailed.

It was over in a moment, but the darkness around us was thick and oily.

“I’ll create a diversion. You release Andre and Lennox and send them down the mountain,” he said.

“We can’t separate. She doesn’t want me dead. You can use me as a shield.”

“I can shield myself,” he said, shoving me away. “Go, and be quick. This power won’t last long against her.”

Chapter 38

When Bryn stood, I ran. I fell and slid across the muddy ground until I careened into the trunk of an evergreen. I crawled from under it, covered in mud and pine needles. I got behind Andre and shot the chain between the shackles on his wrists and ankles. He fell to his hands and knees.

The sound of magic crashing against magic was as loud as the thunder rattling the earth. The flashes of light blinded me as I raced to Lennox. I shot the chains and he fell facedown, unconscious. I rolled him over and ungagged him. I checked and was relieved to feel him breathing. I shook his shoulder.

“Wake up, Lennox. We need your help.”

A sharp tug on my toga made me jerk my head. Mercutio let go of the silk and yowled.

“What?” I asked, clamoring to my feet. I rushed back to the clearing. Bryn was on his knees, bleeding from his arm and neck, arms outstretched to ward off spells from both Barrett and Mrs. Thornton.

“Stop!” I screamed. “Stop it!”

Mercutio darted sideways, drawing my eyes.

Scarface! No!

With dead eyes and a black expression, Scarface pointed his gun at Bryn’s back. My arm moved instantly, finger squeezing the trigger, and I unloaded the clip. Scarface’s stunned expression fixed on me as he crumpled. I swiveled back to Bryn.

He lay facedown on the ground. I ran to him, sliding the last few feet.

“No!” I screamed, finding the bloody hole in his back. I turned him over and ripped open his shirt. No wound. The bullet was somewhere in his chest.

With labored breathing, he turned deathly pale, blue eyes wide with shock. “Can’t breathe,” he gasped.

“No,” I sobbed, bending forward and holding his chest. I didn’t know how to help him. “Please, please don’t die. Take power from me.” I kissed him, but his eyes rolled back.

I saw Mrs. Thornton’s legs and I jerked up, shoving her back. “Don’t touch him!” I snarled. “I’ll kill you if you touch him.”

“You won’t because you can’t. I’m the most powerful witch in the world,” she said coolly. “Now move aside. He’s dying. I’ll end his pain.”

I stood and stepped over Bryn’s body, advancing on her. She flung a spell that knocked me to my knees. The pain was terrible, like all my bones were grinding against each other, crushing my insides.

I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t breathe.

She stepped around me. “I should have done this years ago,” she said, leaning over Bryn.

When her spell released me, I fell forward. I rolled immediately and kicked her leg, knocking her down. She didn’t strike the ground. Her body levitated, her magic stronger than gravity.

I crawled on top of Bryn, covering his body to protect him from her.

“Move!” she said.

“Maggie, let her say good-bye to him,” John Barrett called. “Come help me with this leg. I’m bleeding badly!”

I twisted my arms around Bryn’s neck and kissed him, trying to shove magic into him. It didn’t work. He didn’t inhale. He wasn’t breathing.

Fear and panic swallowed me up, my heart breaking.

“Please,” I mumbled, searching for the words that would keep him with me.

Blood of my blood. Bone of my bone.
Two bodies, one. Never alone.

I felt a white burning in my chest, like a balloon had been inflated too far, like my chest would explode. Mercutio yowled next to me.

“Ahhh! Bite him,” I rasped. “Here. Make a hole,” I said, shoving Merc’s head down against Bryn’s chest. “Something’s in there. Let it out. Hurry—” I swayed, the world darkening. I was dying, too. I fell onto Bryn’s chest.

The world lurched and faded through a haze of spots and stripes. Pain pierced my chest, like a spike stabbing me. A rush of hissing air escaped, and hot blood sprayed my face. My vision cleared. Bloody bubbles frothed out of Bryn’s punctured chest, releasing the deadly pressure.

My eyes darted around. Mrs. Thornton had gone to John Barrett and was binding his leg where I’d shot him.

I drew my finger across my cut leg and mixed my blood with Bryn’s, then rubbed it over my lips like gloss. “Blood of my blood, bone of my bone,” I whispered as I kissed him. He breathed in, magic curling from my mouth to his. I pushed it into him, wanting him to have it all.

He mumbled against my lips.

“My God, no! My friend,” Andre sobbed, kneeling over us. Andre lapsed into German as I stood.

“Watch over him, Andre,” I said.

Mrs. Thornton finished tying a makeshift bandage around John Barrett’s leg. I dug my toes in the mud, just as she turned her head and narrowed her eyes at me.

She stood. “What have you done?” she asked, stalking toward me.

“To kill one of us, you have to kill us both.”

She sighed wearily. “And you think I want you alive more than I want him dead?”

“Don’t you?” I asked, backing toward the woods.

“It’s not too late for Melanie or Marlee to have another child. I have many things with which to bargain. One doesn’t become the most powerful force in magic by letting sentiment rule.”

The wind whipped rain across my face, making me blink. “I’m your own flesh and blood. Please don’t do this.”

“Undo the bond between you and Lyons. You can’t save him, but you can save yourself,” she said, edging toward me, a predator stalking prey.

I stood under an enormous oak, cringing. “Betray the people I love? I don’t do that,” I whispered, dragging my foot across the roots to make the cut gush blood. “Would rather die.”

She sighed and raised her arm. “So be it.”

Tears welled. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Protect me, tree. Stop her dead.”

The branch cracked with a sound that drowned out the thunder. I heard her shriek, felt the ground quake.

I bit my lip, the pain almost as strong as the lump in my throat. I opened my eyes. Part of the branch had pierced her belly. She lay pinned and breathless, her lips bloodless white.

Tears overflowed as I knelt over her. “You made me,” I whispered. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

She clenched her jaw and whispered a spell, lifting the heavy tree limb a couple of inches. She grabbed her skewered stomach with a cry of pain and let the limb fall. The rain ebbed and stopped, like heaven had turned off a faucet.

“I underestimated you,” she said with a gurgling breath. “I, of all people.”

“Hello, Margaret.”

I looked up, and Bryn’s mother’s ghost stood a few feet away, all luminous light and glowing skin.

Mrs. Thornton didn’t look at her.

I stared at the Winterhawk, horrified. “It was you? You killed Bryn’s mom and trapped her soul?”

“She married a Lyons against our wishes. She was our student. We mentored her. She—she should have listened. She defied us. She wasted—wasted her talent. Wasted her life . . .” Mrs. Thornton clutched her stomach.

“Let’s not forget my spells,” Cassandra said.

“Yes,” Margaret said fiercely. “I ruled—ruled the whole world with those spells.” She coughed and moaned. “Ruled.”

I felt Mrs. Thornton’s soul leave her body, a rush of cold air passing me.

I looked up at Cassandra. Her light brightened.

“Hi,” I stammered, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Your son’s here. He’d give anything to see you.”

She floated closer. “You freed me.” Her phantom finger traced my cheek, down my neck, and came to rest over the spot where her brooch was under the silk, touching my skin. “Such a lovely, brave girl. Will you help me do one more thing before I go?”

I nodded, biting my lip.

A brush of silk and warmth, and then my body was crowded. I exhaled, squeezing smaller until the warmth closed around me. My hands and arms changed, like a glamour covering me. The hair hanging down darkened to deep chestnut.

We stood and walked to where Bryn lay. His breathing was even, but fast, his skin still pale, but not deathly so.

His eyes widened when he saw us. “Are you—Who are you?” he rasped.

“You know,” we whispered, bending down. We brushed a kiss over his cheek. “My beautiful son. How much I’ve always loved you. More than life.” Another kiss. “I’ll see you again, but not soon.” We smiled at him. “Not soon.”

He clutched our arm, and we squeezed his hand.

“Where is he? Where is Lennox?” we asked, standing. We turned and returned to the trees.

Lennox sat propped against a trunk. He looked disheveled and dazed.

“Here you are,” we said softly and knelt next to him.

With effort, he raised his battered face. He tipped his skull against the bark. “Am I dreaming or am I dead?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Have you written songs for me this week?” we asked.

He raised his brows. “I . . . don’t write songs anymore. Not since you left me.”

“My love,” we whispered and kissed him.

He cupped the back of our head, the kiss deep and full of pain and passion. It got hard to breathe. We pulled back. He tried to hold on.

“Cassie, stay,” he said fiercely.

“I loved you more than music. More than magic. More than life,” we whispered. “Don’t forget me.”

“Never,” he said with tears in his eyes. “Not for a day. Not for an hour.”

As her soul tore free of my body, I fell back. I landed on the ground, staring up as she rose through the tree limbs into the star-studded sky.

The ground was so very cold, and I was so very tired.

Chapter 39