Authors: Nora Roberts
With the sword gripped in her hands, she stared through the bars. She saw Mac only inches away.
Where did he come from? she thought dully. How did he get here? Beside him stood her brother, and on either side Mia and Nell.
She heard the wheeze and panting of her own breath, felt the cold sweat sliding over her skin. And the pulse of that greed swimming in her veins.
“I love you. Stay with me,” Mac said again. “Remember.”
“Lower the barrier.” Mia’s voice was brisk. “And cast the circle. We’re stronger.”
“They’ll die.” The thing with Harding’s face taunted her. “I’ll kill them slowly, painfully, so you hear them screaming. My death or theirs. Choose.”
She turned away from those she loved and met her match. “Oh, yours.”
The night exploded with sound as she brought the
sword down. A thousand images echoed through her mind. Through them she saw the triumph in his eyes, the sheer glee in them.
An instant later, they were baffled and lost. And Harding’s.
She stopped the blade an inch from his throat.
“Help me.” He whispered it, and she saw his skin ripple.
“I will. The root of magic is in the heart,” she began, repeating the words Mac had put in her subconscious. “From this the gift of power must start. With its light we burn off the dark, with its joy we leave our mark. To protect and defend, to live and to see. As I will, so mote it be.”
Beneath her ready blade, Harding began to laugh. “Do you think such weak women’s spells will hold me?”
Ripley tilted her head, almost in sympathy. “Yes. As will this.” Her mind was clear as glass as she closed her hand over the edge of the blade. It sliced into her palm, already stained with Mac’s blood.
Against her heart, the amulet Mac had given her glowed warm and bright.
“His blood,” she said. “And my blood. Mixed now and true.” She squeezed until drops fell on his skin. And he began to yell. In rage, she thought as she continued. Wonderful rage. “Poured from the heart, they conquer you. This is the power that I set free. As I will, so mote it be.”
“Bitch! Whore!” He bellowed as she stepped back, strained to snatch at her, to rise. Snarled when he could do neither.
Her vision was suddenly so incredibly clear. Hope, she realized, was blinding bright. She vanished the bars of light, turned. “We can’t leave Harding like this.” Pity for him swarmed into her. “Poor bastard.”
“We cast it out,” Mia said.
They laid out a circle of salt and silver. Inside it Harding spat and howled like an animal, and his curses grew more foul, his threats more hideous.
Faces shivered across his face, as if the bones knit and re-knit themselves.
Thunder rolled across the sky in waves as wild as the surf. The wind cried piercingly.
Harding’s pupils rolled as they ringed him and clasped hands.
“We cast you out, dark into dark, from here till ever, you bear our mark.” Mia focused. A small white pentagram scored Harding’s cheek.
He howled like a wolf.
“Into the void and into the night,” Nell continued. “Out of this soul and beyond the light.”
“Helen, I love you. You’re my wife, my world,” he said in Evan’s voice. “Have pity.”
It was pity she felt. But the single tear that slipped down Nell’s cheek was all she could give.
“In this place and in this hour,” Ripley chanted. “We cast you out and scorn your power. We are joined, we are the Three. As we will, so mote it be.”
“We cast you out,” Mia repeated, and each who clasped hands repeated, one by one until the words overlapped into a single voice.
The force of it came like a gale, cold and fetid. It swirled up, a black funnel, then spewed into the air. And into the sea.
On the sand Harding, his face gray but unmarked, groaned.
“He needs tending,” Nell said.
“Go ahead and take care of him, then.” Ripley stepped back. Immediately the strength went out of her legs and she buckled.
“Okay, baby. Okay.” Mac caught her, lowering her gently to her knees. “Catch your breath, clear your head.”
“I’m all right. Just a bit wobbly.” She managed to lift her head, look at her brother. “Guess you won’t have to lock me up for homicide.”
“Guess not.” He knelt as well, took her face in his hands. “Scared me, Rip.”
“Yeah, me, too.” She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. “We’re going to be busy tomorrow. Storm damage.”
“We’ll handle it. Todds take care of the Sisters.”
“Damn right.” She breathed in, breathed out, and felt free. “You ought to give Nell a hand with Harding. Poor sap. I’m okay.”
“You always were.” He kissed both her cheeks, held on for another minute. Then looked at Mac as he got to his feet. “Make sure she stays that way.”
She drew in another breath. “Give me a minute, will you?” she asked Mac.
“I can probably spare two, but not much more.”
“Okay,” she agreed as he helped her up.
Her knees were jelly, but she willed them to hold her, steadied herself, and turned toward Mia. Then she forgot the weakness, the shock, even the echoes of power. Mia stood, smiling just a little, one hand on Lucy’s head. The dog’s tail was wagging like a madcap metronome.
“Lucy!” In one leap she had her face buried in the dog’s fur. “I thought she was gone. I saw . . .” She jerked back and began stroking at Lucy, searching for the wound.
“It wasn’t real,” Mia said quietly. “His sword was only an illusion, a trick of violence to test you. He used it to push you to repeat the sin. He didn’t want your death—not yet. He wanted your soul, and your power.”
Ripley squeezed Lucy one last time, then straightened and turned to Mia. “Well, he lost, didn’t he?”
“So he did.”
“Did you know, all along?”
“Pieces.” Mia shook her head. “Not enough to be sure, just enough to doubt and worry.” She held out a hand as Nell crossed to them. “In my heart, I knew you wouldn’t fail. But in my head, I wasn’t sure. You’ve always been a difficult puzzle for me.”
“I might have done it. I was mad enough, frightened enough. But I felt both of you, inside. I never wanted this,” she said in a furious whisper. “You know I never wanted this.”
“Life’s tough,” Mia said with a shrug. “You play the cards you’re dealt or you fold.”
“I knew you’d win.” Nell took her injured hand, gently uncurled the fingers. “You need to see to this.”
“I will. It’s not bad.” She pressed her lips together. “I want the scar,” she said. “I need it.”
“Then . . .” Slowly, Nell curled Ripley’s fingers into a loose fist. “Zack and I are going to take Mr. Harding back to the house for now. He needs a hot meal. He’s shaken up, confused, but all in all”—she glanced back to where Zack had Harding on his feet—“amazingly unharmed. He remembers little.”
“Let’s keep it that way,” Ripley demanded. “All right, let’s go back, clean the rest of this up.” She tilted her head up to the sky, saw the clouds dissolving, and the halo of the moon glowing pure and white. “Storm’s passing,” she murmured.
Mia nodded. “For now.”
Ripley opened her mouth, looked toward Harding again. “Maybe the guys could take Harding back, give us another minute here.”
“All right. I’ll tell Zack.”
The wind had gentled to a breeze, and the breeze smelled of night and of water. Ripley waited until the men, and the cheerful dog, turned toward home.
With Mia and Nell she closed the circle they had cast. She took her ritual sword—that had been real enough—and cleansed it. The surf foamed up, tame now and lovely, and dampened her boots.
“When I lifted the sword,” she began, knowing her friends were beside her, “I wanted blood. Like a craving. Bringing it down seemed to take hours.” She shifted her feet. “I’m not big on this vision crap. That’s your deal, Mia. Usually. But I saw images. I saw Mac, Mac and me. My parents, my brother. I saw the three of us in the forest the way we were last fall. I saw Nell. You had a baby in your arms.”
“A baby.” Nell’s voice went soft, dreamy, as she pressed a hand to her belly. “But I’m not—”
“Not yet, anyway.”
“Oh, boy!” Nell let out a thrilled and baffled laugh. “Oh, boy, oh, boy!”
“Anyway,” Ripley continued, “I saw those things, and more. The three sisters, in a dark wood, in a circle of light. The one who was Earth on this very beach, in a storm. There were so many, coming so fast they overlapped, but each was perfectly clear.
“And I saw you, Mia. Standing on your cliffs, on the edge of your cliffs. Alone and crying. There was darkness all around you, the kind that came out of Harding tonight. It wanted you. Somehow, I . . . It’s always been you, most of all.”
Even as the chill crept up her spine, Mia nodded. “Are you telling me to . . . beware?”
“Very ware. I saw something else, at the instant I
stopped the sword. One last flash. The three of us, in a circle. And I knew it was okay. What I’m saying is, I know it
can
be okay. If we do what we’re supposed to do, make the right choices.”
“You made yours tonight,” Mia reminded her. “Trust me to make mine.”
“You’re the strongest.”
“Well, well. Is that a compliment I hear?”
“Can it, okay? In the magic stuff, you’re the strongest. What comes at you’s going to be the strongest, too.”
“None of us is alone now.” Nell took Mia’s hand, then Ripley’s. “We’re three.”
Ripley took Mia’s hand to finish the link. “Yeah. Witches Are Us.”
Ripley told herself
she was doing what needed to be done, but that didn’t mean she would enjoy it. She watched Nell soothe and charm Harding. Bolster him with soup and tea. She let Mia treat and bind her hand. And avoided being alone with Mac until they left to walk to the yellow cottage.
“We can load up your equipment tonight if you want.”
“I’ll get it tomorrow,” he answered. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t know why, but he sensed she wasn’t ready for that yet.
“I guess Harding’s going to write his book after all.”
“Not the one he might have had in mind. But, yeah, I think Nell likes the idea of a book that offers hope to people in an abuse cycle. He’s barely the worse for wear now that he’s . . .”
“Exorcised?”
“In a manner of speaking. Can I ask you a technical question?”
“I guess.” It was a beautiful night. Cool and fresh and clear. There was no reason, she told herself, to be so edgy now.
“How did you know the blood would hold him?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Hereditary knowledge?” Mac offered and got a shrug.
“Maybe. That kind of thing’s your bag. Magic runs through the blood. Mine,” she said, lifting her hand. “Yours, even though it’s pretty diluted.” She glanced over when he laughed. “That’s accurate enough,” she said testily. “And blood is a transmitter, a sacrifice, whatever. It’s life.”
“No argument.” He stopped, turned at the verge of the trees where the shadows were soft and the moonlight dappled through black branches. “Was that all?”
“There’s a bond. It’s emotional—apart from intellect or logic, even from ritual, I guess.”
“Love.” He waited a beat. “Why can’t you say it now?”
“You’ve never seen me like that before,” she said in a rush. “Everything that’s come before has been like kid stuff compared to tonight.”
“You were magnificent.” He watched her eyes widen. It was going to be fun, he thought, to blindside her with statements like that for the next fifty or sixty years. “Did you think that seeing what I did would change what I feel for you?”
“No. I don’t know. Mac, I was nearly seduced. Maybe when I went out it was with the idea that I could sacrifice myself—and don’t tell me that’s lame. I’ve already figured that out.”
“Then I’ll restrain myself.”
“Good. But the farther I got from the house, from all of
you, the more I wanted blood. There was a moment, more than a moment, when I might have turned, when I might have grabbed what was offered. The power was outrageous—huge, seductive, staggering.”
“But you didn’t take it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I wanted me more. I wanted you more. And I . . . this sounds hokey.”
“Say it anyway.”
“I wanted justice more.”
He laid his hands on her shoulders, brushed a kiss over her brow. Then he lifted her bandaged palm and kissed that, too. “I said you looked magnificent. That’s accurate, too. There was a light, bursting out of you. Nothing could have dimmed it. And now . . . you’re just my girl.”
“Your girl.” She snorted. “Please.”
“All mine,” he said, and did what he’d wanted to do since he’d seen her with a shining sword gripped in her hands. He lifted her off her feet, nearly crushing her in an embrace as his mouth sought hers. “Marry me. Live with me in the house by the sea.”
“Oh, God, Mac, I love you. It’s better than everything, more than everything. Hell, Mac”—she tipped her head back—“it
is
everything.”
“And we’re just getting started.”
She laid her head on his shoulder while he stroked her hair. Brilliant mind, tough body, generous heart. Her lips curved as she thought, All mine.
“When the power was in me, I felt invincible, tremendous. It’s like having molten gold running through your veins. Do you know how I feel right now?”