Now or Never: Wizards of Nevermore (27 page)

“What are these?” Cullen pointed down to a couple of misshapen clay bodies.

“Those are vigils,” said Taylor. “I guess the Ravens destroyed them before they could send out warnings.”

“And they didn’t post any guards?” Cullen looked around.

“Arrogant bastards,” said Taylor. “Or maybe there’re not as many of them as we think.”

They returned their gazes to the
nemeton
.

Seven black-robed figures surrounded the stone altar.

Norie was chained to it, naked, and she struggled against her bonds as they cut into her.

Beyond the altar, a portal—a huge dark oval—had opened, and the face peering out of it so eagerly was monstrous.

“Kahl,” said Taylor, horrified.

“I say we go in and fuck up their shit,” said Cullen.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They charged forward.

Cullen went around one side of the altar and just plowed into the Ravens. Taylor did the same to the ones on the other side.

They went down like bowling pins.

And then one popped up, tossed off the cowl of her black robe, and gazed at them with red eyes.

“Kerren,” said Taylor. The horror in the sheriff’s voice didn’t bode well. Cullen eyed the half-demon magical. So this was the woman who’d sold her husband’s soul for money and immortality.

What a bitch.

“So rude!” She aimed a hand at Cullen and issued a fireball.

Cullen dodged it, though how he didn’t know. He drew her off, and she followed him, marching toward him and tossing all kinds of magic crap.

Taylor headed to the altar and grabbed at the chains that bound Norie.
Shit.
His hands tingled, but he
couldn’t get the magic to work. He didn’t know how to be a magical. He just wanted to save Norie.

He looked at Cullen and watched in amazement as he got close enough to Kerren to coldcock her. Whether the recipient was immortal or not, a hard punch to the jaw had the same effect: She went down like a sack of rocks, sprawling onto the grass.

Cullen grinned, dusting off his hands. Then he was running toward the altar.

Taylor turned and saw Leopold, his lip bloody from his fall to the ground, his eyes insane. Leopold screamed in frustration. “No! Kahl must be brought forward. The Ravens must take their rightful place in this world!” He raised a gleaming silver dagger and plunged it downward, toward Norie’s heart.

Taylor knocked his hand away, but the Raven was strong, and he came back, trying again. He nicked the side of Norie’s throat, and blood flowed onto the stone.

“No!” Taylor punched Leopold, and the man fell back, stumbling while trying to catch his balance.

The portal was already opening. Darkness leaked out, snaking toward Norie.

Taylor felt his heart claw up into his throat.
No, damn it. No!

Cullen reached them, and he and Taylor both grabbed at Norie.

The moment they touched, the magic within all of
them unlocked. It flowed like a river, and then the Goddess spoke:

Raven born, you are my Chosen. Brother and sister and key, work together to unlock that which belongs to Nevermore. Drive back the evil. And prepare for what must come next.

Cullen aimed his palm at his father, and white magic shot out, knocking the man backward. The dagger flew out of his grip, and he was sent crashing against the large blue stone.

They heard the crack of his skull as he collapsed onto the ground, staring at the night sky with sightless eyes.

“Damn it!” Kerren stalked toward them, murder in her eyes. “Don’t bother, you irritating little humans!” She raised her hands, magic licking at her palms.

Kahl entered the doorway. He was big, powerful, built like a minotaur. He even had hooves, and his legs were as thick and strong as a bull’s. He had to be nearly nine feet tall. His demon form was fearsome to behold.

One thick, black leathery leg slipped onto the earthly plane.

The
nemeton
shuddered.

Cullen aimed their power at Kerren.

Her eyes narrowed and then went wide. Her body stilled. Flames exploded around her feet, then wound around her legs like hungry snakes.

Her unearthly screeches echoed around the
nemeton
…and still the fire consumed her.

Then she exploded.

Ash that was once Kerren floated onto the ground like sullen snowflakes.

Kahl was nearly through the doorway, though it was obvious he was struggling. Something was keeping him from completely crossing into the human world.

Cullen directed their magic, the gift of the Goddess, into the portal.

It covered Kahl with gold light, and he screamed in agony.

Just as his wife had been annihilated by the magic created by love, by goodness, he was consumed by flames.

He fell back, his furious screams swallowed by the sound of flames, of vengeance.

Then his massive body imploded.

Hell’s doorway disappeared.

The other Ravens had risen from being knocked down, and now they were scrambling to get away, but Cullen trapped them easily with the magic that still pulsed from his palms. They went catatonic in the grass.

Well done, Chosen.

Cullen looked at Taylor and nodded. They released Norie, and the magic receded, but it was no longer locked inside the star twins. It was there, an ocean of power, of Light, and of good.

*  *  *

“You okay?”

Norie looked up from the bed, finding herself once again tucked in between its cozy covers. The magic had overwhelmed her, but not Cullen. He’d always been the stronger one, and she didn’t mind. But she would learn to use her new powers, and they would make sure that nothing else threatened Nevermore.

“C’mere,” she said, and patted the edge of the bed.

Taylor crossed the room. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, but no socks. He looked vulnerable without his uniform on—like a different person, and maybe one not so weighed down by duty.

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

“I want just one thing,” she said.

“Whatever you want.”

“You.”

His eyes widened. “I dreamed about you.” He leaned over and stroked a finger down the side of her cheek. “I didn’t think you…that we’d be here right now. I want this. I want you.” He looked down at his tattooed hands. He sighed. “I’m a damned key.”

Norie covered his hands. “You amplify the magic of others,” she said. “That’s a rare gift.”

“Maybe,” he said. He looked at her and offered a smile. “If it protects you, and Nevermore, then that’s all right by me.”

They looked at each other, their hearts open, their
future still yet to be written. Taylor pulled back. “Guess I’d better let you rest,” he said. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Stay with me,” said Norie. “Please.”

“There’s a time and place for us to be together,” said Taylor. “Mostly I’m thinking after vows have been spoken.”

Norie grinned. Oh, this man. This wonderful, honorable man.

“Just hold me, Taylor. Tonight, that’s enough.”

“Oh.” He offered a sheepish grin. Then crawling in next to her, he lay against her, wrapped his arms around her, and snuggled close.

Perfect,
thought Norie.

She was finally home.

The funeral for Elizabeth Jones was held two days later. Cleanup still remained to be done, along with Ravens to arrest, suicides to investigate, and new residents to welcome to Nevermore.

But now it was time to say good-bye to the mortal remains of a beloved friend. Trent saw to the arrangements himself, refusing help from any of his friends. The funeral was short, and good-byes were spoken.

Then the coffin was lowered into the grave, and everyone helped to cover it with earth.

Mordi wasn’t in the ground—no soul went to the grave with its body—but she lived on in Tree. This had
been confirmed by Ant and Elandra, but Trent had known the moment he put his hand on the trunk that his love lived on within its essence.

It was small comfort.

Elizabeth had given Trent charge of Elysian Fields, and it seemed a more fitting vocation for a necromancer than garbage collector or paperboy.

But those concerns were for other days.

Taylor refused to let Norie out of bed. She was feeling better, but she liked all his fussing, so she let him feed her chicken soup and bring her cold washcloths for her forehead. Her brother knew her game and gave her some grief for it, but with a grin that warmed her heart.

They had decided to stay in Nevermore. She wanted a life with Taylor. And she and Cullen wanted to find their roots, their real family. Their mother had sacrificed her life for theirs, and they would find some way to honor that.

“No leads about Betty Mae?” asked Gray.

They stood in the break room of the sheriff’s office while Taylor tried to get the infernal espresso machine to work. “None. My brother’s outta his mind with grief. He’s moving back in with me. He can’t stand to step a foot into that place right now.”

“At least the gun is secure.” Gray paused. “You need any help with that?”

“No,” said Taylor. “I’ll figure out this thing if it’s the last damned thing I do.” He turned a knob, and the machine hissed. “I hear tell your mother’s staying on.”

Gray groaned. “Don’t remind me. She wants to help protect the Goddess fountain and figure out what’s going on around here.”

“Well, I want to know that, too. Leticia’s smart, Gray. And she’s no slouch in the magic department, either.”

“I know. But she’s not exactly making things easy on Lucy.”

“Lucinda can hold her own. Just give it some time. It’ll work out.” He cursed as the machine groaned but produced no coffee.

“And what about the suicides? About Betty Mae?”

“I’ll keep digging,” said Taylor. “I won’t let it loose until I know what happened.”

“And how do you feel about Cullen’s staying around?”

“He’s good for Norie. Though I heard him talking about some absinthe lounge, whatever the hell that is. I don’t guess he plans on reopening the sewing shop.”

“He’s asked for a visitor’s pass for a friend of his—name of Laurent. Looks as though we’ll have some new faces around here.”

“Just as long as they don’t cause trouble. The Ravens are doing plenty of that for us.”

“Well, they’re not seceding from the Grand Court.” Gray frowned. “At least…not yet.”

“That whole mess! At least your mom came in handy for that.”

“Thanks to the memory wipes she did on the Ravens, nobody will know what happened in the
nemeton
,” said Gray. “And no one will miss Leopold Deshane.”

“As long as we get some normal around here for a while, I’m okay with it.”

“Good.” Gray walked around, twisted a knob, pushed a button, and flicked a switch. Pure black nirvana poured into the coffee mug.

Taylor looked at his friend. “You’re a bastard.”

It was midnight. Leticia Calhoun lay in bed, unable to sleep. Something tickled the back of her consciousness like a spider web caught in her hair. She couldn’t relax; she couldn’t sleep.

Cheater.

Leticia sat up. “Who’s there?”

Liar.

Her heart began to pound, and she clenched the covers. She looked around, damned if she would show the fear that was crawling around her belly.

You killed him, you know. With what you did.

She looked at the nightstand, at the Colt. 45 gleaming like vengeance in the moonlight.

Broke your vows.

Broke his heart.

Pay the price.

Suddenly, Leticia understood. Guilt wormed through her, acid in her veins.
I hurt him. He found out. Then he died.

Yes. She should pay the price.

So she picked up the gun.

Ax was the best campfire cook, and he was punished for it nightly by having to make us all delicious meals (even with the sand that got into them—sand got into everything). I enjoyed tormenting my grad students, so I made them clean up. Again.
Mu-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
.

“You turning in early?” asked Ax as he eased himself onto the ground next to me. I was sitting on a canvas chair, staring at the fire. Already the heat of the day was giving way to the chill of the night. I glanced at my companion. He was a big man, well aware of his height and girth, and generally a gentle soul. But I’d seen him riled a time or two, and he definitely had the kind of mean a female archaeologist needed in the south Sudan.

“Yeah. Dawn to dusk, that’s the glamorous life of an archaeologist,” I said.

“Quit being so bitter about Indiana Jones.”

“It’s directed more at Lara Croft.”

He laughed.

“Permit will be up in three days.” I sighed. “It’s not enough time.”

“You’re lucky you got any sand time at all in these parts,” said Ax. He chewed on a toothpick the size of a twig. “It’s not safe, you know.”

“It’s not safe anywhere,” I responded automatically. Granted, trying to extract ancient history from the desert while war raged around our perimeter was certainly more dangerous than trying to cross the street in Manhattan.

But not by much.

“I’m going to bed,” I said, getting up. “See you in the a.m.”

“I’ll make the coffee.”

I grimaced. Ax could cook like Martha Stewart, but his coffee had driven otherwise hardened souls to attempt suicide. “Dove will make the coffee. Your sludge is like drinking ass-flavored gelatin.”

He grinned. “G’night, Doc.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved at him.

Dove was already tucked into her cot, snoring away. Ah, the sweet sleep of ornery bitches. I crawled onto my own cot and pulled up the scratchy blanket. Exhaustion weighed on me like the Great Pyramid.

I fell asleep before the discomfort of my crappy sleeping arrangements had the chance to annoy me.

*  *  *

“Moira!”

“Earthquake,” I mumbled as my entire body was flung back and forth. I opened my eyes. A distraught Dove was inches from my face, shaking me by the shoulders. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna need a Dramamine.”