The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (78 page)

She had become a woman. With a heart that pounded against her conscience every second, and somehow went on pounding whilst crushed and broken.

Elena looked around the room, her open wound of anguish like a hook that snared Morgana and reeled her in.

Katarra stepped forward and placed her hand on the small of Elena’s back. Her voice held a tenderness that was completely out of place for the Brujii. “We’ll find a way to save him. I’ll help you. It’s not like I’m gonna be around much longer anyway – I’d rather go out with a bang, you know?”

The witch turned to her, tear-stricken, grateful – all but beaten.

“I’m with you too.” Her mother, the twelfth generation witch, took place to her left and linked her hand through hers. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that boy – I wouldn’t have gotten to see you again. I’ve watched him grow from a child to a man, just as I’ve watched you grow. He would never give up on you if the situation was reversed, and you shouldn’t have to give up on him.”

Elena fell into a hug with her mother, her arms wrapped around her in a vice, and Morgana wondered what it would be like to
have
a mother.

“I’m in too.”

“No!” countered Amy. Her eyes met Paul’s, and her radiating feelings of treachery echoed Morgana’s own.

Her legs might give way now with all the hurt, anger and desperation trying to drag her under, and she wasn’t sure her wings would hold her up – she wasn’t even sure if they worked anymore.

“Paul … how could—”

“Amy, don’t.” And his voice was stricken, yet firm. “I’m not abandoning you by helping Elena – I never will, and believe me when I say I will do
everything
I can to make sure our child is born…” But it was his next words said so nakedly, so truthfully, and breaking on the first sentence, that reached the woman’s compassion and overrode the betrayal. “Elena’s my granddaughter. She watched him die once, and I wasn’t there. I won’t let her go through it again if I can help it, if there’s even a way… Once is enough for one lifetime, wouldn’t you say?”

Her face crumpled in both understanding and grief, and she collapsed into the Dessec’s chest, his arms holding her up, and Morgana grabbed the back of a dining chair as she swayed, knocked back by the stifling mix of both betrayal and compassion felt in
such great amounts
. Her own fury had been smothered by everyone else’s emotions – her sense of self, denied.

“Oh, this is so fucking Oprah I want to write a book.” Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest. “Michael, why don’t you inform the Let Karl Live Brigade of the flaw to their great plan before I vomit.”

Everyone stared at the archangel and he cleared his throat. “I don’t know if Gawaine’s son can be saved at all.” He looked at Elena. “I’m sorry. It’s not like a possession where you can just rid his body of the entity – it’s not a demon that’s taken hold of him: it’s
God
… and with the angel blood… Mergence is a forever kind of thing for angels. Granted, this isn’t your traditional mergence, but…” he sighed with a heaviness that had Morgana wondering what he’d been through since the Bleeding. “Elena, his fusion with Karl is most likely permanent.”

A chilling stillness permeated the room.

“Permanent?” asked Elena, her voice solidifying the word in the most horrific way.

“God took physical form when he fell – he needed food and nourishment just like any other, or at least, I thought he needed food … turns out, he was feeding off Karl’s energy, I just didn’t know it. When I went back to find him, just before I came here, he was gone.”

“Gone?”

To watch all hope drain from someone was not a metaphorical thing. Elena turned pale, then green; she swayed and Katarra caught her around the waist and arm to keep her upright.

“God was gone,” continued Michael, “his physical form, I mean. All that was left was this.” He threw the clothes – their golden glow now fading – onto the table. They landed next to the apple. “With something like a demon possession, the demon has a body to come back to. But this … there’s nothing here – his body’s gone. God has no intention of coming back. He’s merged himself with Karl in every way – cells, tissue, blood – he’s a
part
of him now. I don’t think there’s a way to separate them without killing them both.”

~*~

The next fifteen minutes saw everyone fall into a heavy silence that clung to the air like smog. They went their separate ways within the apartment, Amy and Pueblo to the east of the building, Elena, Katherine and Katarra to the opposite side, Paul had retreated into his bedroom, and Michael and Lucifer had disappeared. Morgana had avoided everyone by stepping out onto the balcony that adjoined the living room. It was crushing how they were all thrown together, and yet, torn apart.

Amy’s eyes landed on the ‘interesting’ apparel Pueblo wore around his neck. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was made of. “It doesn’t quite shine like the sapphire one you gave me.”

He looked at her, puzzled. “Excuse me?”

She nodded to his neckline.

“Ahhh, the Dessec crown.”

“Aren’t crowns usually worn on the head?”

“Would you like me to wear it on my head?”

She smiled in spite of herself. “No. So … guess you really are the king now.”

“Guess so. Not much of the Dessec left to rule over though.”

“Guess not.”

“Just as well. Not sure ruling’s my thing – never was the nagging type.”

Her smile grew wider and she repositioned herself against the wall she was leaning on.

“Would you like to sit?”

“No. Thanks.”

The pause between them stretched.

“Amy—”

“Fifty-five years?”

He didn’t let his gaze waver.

“You must’ve all but forgotten about me.”

“Never. Every time we dreamt—”

“Oh, so those were real? The dreams?”

“Of course they were.”

She nodded, gulping back the persistent lump in her throat. “But if you’ve been gone for fifty-five years … for every night I dreamt was it … what? How long for you?”

“Maybe five years; maybe less.”

“Oh, wow…” she exhaled in defeat; the futility of it all…

“Hey, it’s oka—”

“No, it’s not! All right? It’s not.” Then she laughed. “I have two men in my heart and both of them have lived entire lives, entire worlds,
without me
, and then you both come back, telling me it’s all okay? Expecting me to just accept it and be here for you?”

“No one’s expecting anything of you.”

“Well, you’ll have to excuse me if that’s not what it feels like. The child in my womb needs his mother and you both helped to put him there – if that’s not an expectation, then I don’t know what is. Shit.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. Her attitude wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and worried.”

“I know. Come here.” He pulled her into his chest, and she froze for the briefest of seconds before relaxing into him. “I still love you, Amy, even more now than I did before. Fifty-five years hasn’t changed that – not for me.”

She heaved a sigh and sank deeper into the feel of him. “I still love you too. I’ve missed you so much.”

His arms stiffened around her for a second and then softened again as he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “I don’t want to stay here tonight.”

She looked up at him, quizzically. “Where should we go? Back to my flat?”

“No, I mean…” He hesitated, then met her eyes with ones that were both sad, but sure. “I don’t want to spend the night with you, and just
listen
to me for a minute before laying into me, okay?”

“I haven’t seen you for over three weeks;
you
haven’t seen me for fifty-five years and you don’t want to—”

“
Listen
, Amy.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” She shoved herself away from him, only to have him grip her arms and pull her closer.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he growled. “I’m … fuck it, it sounds better when the imp says it. You need closure, and I don’t want half of you – I want all of you. I’m letting you go.”

Anger rose like a tempest. “You’re
breaking up
with me. At least have the guts to say it like it is!” And this time when she pushed him, she did it with every ounce of her being.

He stumbled back a few feet, hurt painted all over his face.

Well, tough shit. It was nothing compared to how she felt at this second.

Or maybe it was, because his hurt faded, his own anger taking its place. “I am
not
breaking up with you. I am still
here
. I’ve been here for over five decades and I’ll still be here if you decide to come back, but I want you
whole
, do you understand me? Has the last month been fun for you? I see how you’ve been – crying, anxious, panicking, torn … do you think I want that for you? Because I don’t. You still love him.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t—”

“Fine, lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself. Do you want to live the
next
fifty-five years grieving, all because you never gave yourself the chance to have an ending you deserve?
I’m
giving you that chance now – take it.”

“Oh,
you’re
giving me the chance? Does that make you feel big?”

He made some low, menacing noise that might turn into a roar, and she knew she’d pushed him with her callousness, but she didn’t care right now. He’d said the words she hadn’t dared to say to anyone – not out loud and not in her head – and it split her open, a seeping gash without end. “What chance, exactly, do you think I have? What fucking
end
? Him dying? Is that an end I deserve?”

“Damn it, don’t you twist my words like this.”

“You have
no
right to tell me how I feel.”

“I’m not telling you how you feel, I’m telling you what I see. I see you hurting. I see you need healing. I see you need closure.”

“Well, aren’t you the fully fledged, all-seeing shaman now.”

He clenched his jaw, his skin burned briefly from flames that leapt from him in anger, and then he simmered down and took a breath in. “I’m sorry I hurt you with my words, but the truth can hurt, and you haven’t allowed yourself the truth over the past month, and it might have been for noble reasons, but I’m giving you an out here:
I’m letting you go
. So go to him.”

He walked past her and she grabbed his arm, her unshed tears making his form blurry. “That’s it? You’ve decided a future for me without my say-so and—”

“I’ve decided nothing other than to give you a chance to acknowledge all the things you’ve been avoiding so you can heal. Where and how you land is your choice – I told you I’d still be here and I will be. I’m done now.” And then he sighed a deep sigh, sorrow in his eyes, even as he gave her a small smile. “This isn’t ‘goodbye’, this is ‘see you later’.”

“In another fifty-five years?” she tossed out, angrily.

“I’ve got an evil shaman to hunt down before he hunts
you
down – those fifty-five years were necessary.”

“Like ‘letting me go’ is necessary? I want you
here
. By my side; by your
baby’s
side.”

“Like you’re here by mine? Unconditionally? With no second thoughts or doubts?”

All sound stuck in her throat as her fight dropped a level.
Yes! Say, yes!

But nothing came out.

A deep understanding reflected in his eyes, right next to the sorrow, and it pissed her off big time because she understood nothing.

“I’ll know when the baby’s coming,” he said, “that’s when I’ll see you next.” He pulled his arm back, and with the first kiss to her lips since he’d arrived back, he teleported out of there before she could say another word.

A strange feeling flooded her veins – something not quite like the panic attacks she’d been battling with; not quite like the fury that so easily came to her at the moment. When she realised what it was, she almost ran, except running wasn’t so easy with a ten pound baby inside you. Her mind, her heart, had been made aware of its predicament with Pueblo voicing what she had refused to, and they
wanted
to heal; wanted to seek the end…

But I’m not ready for the end!

Regardless, she was making her way down the hall, past the living room, down the next hallway, right up to Paul’s room.

She knocked.

No answer.

She took hold of the handle and swung it open.

The room was bare.

Where—

“He left five minutes ago,” came Katherine’s voice from behind her. “He didn’t say where.”

But he always tells me where he’s going – he’s obsessed with my safety.

Some part of her caved in on itself, crashing down inside her, bringing with it the unshakable feeling that she’d unwittingly made a huge error that would cost her dearly. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. He seemed … upset. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” She gave her a small, sympathetic smile and a gentle rub on her arm, then made her way to her own room.

Numbly, Amy retreated her steps. Once back in the living room, she turned towards her own bedroom, where she locked herself in before clumsily falling onto her bed, landing on her side and trying to find a comfortable position.

The baby kicked in protest.

She reached under the pillow next to her and brought out Paul’s shirt, then finally shed those tears into it.

Chapter Sixteen

Christopher opened his front door as quietly as possible, closed it behind him, and then felt around for the light switch that he knew was there.

Finding it, he flicked it on and almost wet his pants for the second time that day when he saw Norolf standing in his hallway.

“Success?” asked the shaman, coldly.

“I thought you were going to meet me outside in an hour.”

“And give you the chance to disappear on me after your little failed mission this morning? I don’t think so. Did he really hurt you that much? Because I don’t see any bruises. Not afraid of one insignificant man, are you?”