Embrace of the Damned (37 page)

Fire flared for a moment in his expression, his jaw going tight. “We have our suspicions it could have been Blight, but there’s no way to know for sure. One thing is for certain, we never knew about ye. Abigail made sure of that.”

“She didn’t want me here.”

Of course, she hadn’t known that when this odyssey had started. Now that she was here, knowing her mother had fled this man so long ago, she realized that her mother had probably never wanted her to come here and that revelation made her uneasy.

Why hadn’t her mom wanted this for her? Her heritage, her people? Was it because of Thorgest? Was she not seeing something, whatever it was her mother had run from?

It was clear her great-grandfather believed in his way or the highway, but how far did his domineering hand stretch?

“As for the woman who raised ye, I’m sorry, lass, but we dinna know anything of that one. Seems yer mother and father were so hell-bent on keeping ye from yer people that they chose her to raise ye without giving ye any knowledge of yer birthright. It was a cruel thing to do.”

She bristled, her mouth opening to defend her mother and father, starting to say they’d clearly been trying to protect her from the Blight, nothing more. But as Thorgest stared at her, little by little, her anger faded and she shivered.

Cruel
.

He was right, it
had
been cruel. And their action had caused the exact opposite effect, since her lack of knowledge about her heritage had led her here—right where they hadn’t wanted her to go.

She relaxed her shoulders, letting her self-righteousness leave her in a slow and steady trickle. Now when she looked at Thorgest she didn’t see an overbearing man, determined to control her mother’s romantic choices. Now she saw a caring great-grandfather who’d been robbed of a life spent with his family. A poor, tired, broken-down old man who needed her help.

Jessa wasn’t sure where this sudden change in her emotions had come from, but they were there nonetheless and suddenly she felt too tired to examine them too closely.

Suddenly nothing mattered but her urge to aid this man in any way she could. She would sacrifice anything to please him, even her final moments with the man she loved.

Knowing exactly what her great-grandfather wanted of her, she settled her hands in her lap and looked up at Thorgest. “I want to stay here to train. I want to become a true witch.”

Thorgest’s face broke into a wide smile. “Good. That’s very good, lass.”

“She’s done what?” Erik roared the words.

Broder stood in the living room holding Jessa’s note clenched in one hand. He’d managed to pull on a pair of boots and a shirt, managed to make it downstairs. Erik was sprawled on the couch, drinking coffee.

“Her letter made it clear that nothing would stop her from joining her people. Loki says she’s where she should be, mission accomplished. We need to leave her be.” The words physically hurt to say.

The ice-cold fissure that had sat in the center of his chest had begun to melt and heal the moment she’d entered his life. Now that she was gone, it was reclaiming him, inch by
agonizing inch. It was like a black hole in the middle of him, slowly consuming all the humanity he’d found again.

“We need to leave her be,” Broder repeated in a low, pain-filled voice. “We should leave her be, but I can’t.” He paused, expecting another outburst from Erik, but it never came. “I’m going after her.”

“Loki will burn you alive.”

It wasn’t a euphemism; Erik meant it literally. Loki could transport them to any number of realms, other than Asgard, for purposes of punishment.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. I need to go after her, doesn’t matter the cost. Let Loki burn me for a century in the fire pits, it will be worth it.” He threw the letter onto the coffee table, then turned and stalked into the foyer, heading for his bike.

“Broder.”

He halted in the frame of the front door. Erik had followed him into the foyer. Broder didn’t turn to face him, forcing Erik to speak to his back.

“You have no future with Jessa. She knows that and
so do you
. It’s why she left. She made it clear in her note. She’ll want to stay with her people and, for once, I agree with Loki. She’s where she needs to be no matter how much you may not like it. You’re sacrificing yourself for nothing.”

Broder didn’t answer. Erik knew Broder was well aware of this fact. That didn’t stop the drive he had to make Jessa his, no matter what. And that was something that Erik couldn’t understand.

Broder turned to face him.

Erik saw his response in his expression and dropped his head in defeat. “The enclave is hidden by magick. You’ll never find it, not without help, and I can’t give you any.”

“I’ll find it.”

Erik let out a low, slow breath. “I’m headed back to D.C. Good luck, brother.”

And Broder was gone.

They gave Jessa a large bedroom on the second floor, decorated in grays and pinks. After Jessa had cleaned up and changed her clothes, an interesting witch named Molly showed her around the house. At least, part of the house. Jessa was pretty sure she would need a decade to explore the whole thing. It had been built over the course of centuries and she could see the sections that were older.

Molly, who was exuberant and friendly and said everything that popped into her head as soon as it popped there, showed Jessa where the dining room was and where she should report for her training, which was to begin the next day.

By twilight, Molly and Jessa were the best of friends. Jessa was grateful to have her and was sorry to see her leave. Once the darkness of twilight closed in around her and mixed with the silence of her bedroom, her misgivings began to push up from the recesses of her mind.

She missed Broder.

Yet every time she thought about going back to him, she immediately shivered and realized it was a bad idea. This was for the best. It really was. She was where she needed to be and Broder was
not
where he should be, but there was no help for that.

Still, she didn’t sleep at all. Not even after a hot shower and slipping into a pair of the softest pj’s that had ever
touched her skin. Not after a cup of delicious noncaffeinated tea that Thorgest had sent up for her. Not even after climbing into the sumptuous, soft four-poster bed and covering herself with the coziest down comforter.

Nothing could make her drift off to dreamland. There was something wrong, bad wrong, something more than just the fact that Broder was not at her side. She couldn’t figure out what it was. It pulsed softly just outside her field of awareness and every time she made a grab for it, it slipped through her fingers like water.

It was probably just angst from leaving Broder. Thinking about that brought pain, so she pushed it away and made herself busy thinking of other things. Like not getting lost in this enormous building.

She made her way down the narrow set of stairs at the end of the corridor where her room was located and into the main kitchen. It was very early. Since she hadn’t been able to sleep, she had decided just to get up and get on with her day. Maybe she was just excited about being here, excited about finally tapping the talent she had inside her. Maybe that was the source of her unease. After all, even good stress was stress. That was what Aunt Margaret always used to say.

Moving through the empty kitchen, she followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee, found a mug, and poured herself a big serving. Leaning back against the counter, she took a sip of the lovely hot, sugared drink and groaned with pleasure. Sweet, sweet caffeine. There was nothing better than that in the morning … unless it was waking up next to the man you loved.

But she’d promised herself not to think about him.

“Good morning, Jessa.”

She jerked, startled, and glanced over to find Carolyn sitting at one of the tables. “I didn’t see you there. Good morning, Carolyn.”

“Sleep well?” Carolyn had a cup of coffee sitting in front of her, too.

Jessa walked over and sat down next to her. “Not really.”

“Well, lots of changes. After today you’ll be so exhausted you’ll sleep like a baby.”

“What’s today?”

Carolyn smiled. “First day of training.” She spotted her pendant, leaned forward, and picked up the dragonfly. “Your sigil is a dragonfly?”

Jessa nodded and slipped the charm from the other woman’s fingers, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. She didn’t want Carolyn touching it for some reason she couldn’t quite determine.

“Did you get that from your aunt Margaret?”

“No, Broder gave it to me.”

Carolyn’s smile faded and her expression took on a sour look. “Oh.”

Jessa tilted her head to the side. “Why do you all hate him so much?”

Carolyn looked down at the table. “It’s not my place to say.”

A flare of anger burst through her veins, making her narrow her eyes and lending an edge to her voice. “Then whose would it be?”

“Ask Thorgest. He’ll tell you all about it.”

Jessa exhaled slowly and looked away from her, a little shiver running through her. “I’m sure you all must have a good reason.”

“Oh”—Carolyn leveled her gaze at her—“we do.” She eyed the pendant. “Once you find out, you’ll throw that into the trash. Why don’t you do it right now, save yourself a little heartbreak?”

Another shiver, stronger this time. Jessa clenched the dragonfly in her hand as though trying to hold on to something precious that was rapidly slipping away. She gripped it so hard the points of the wings dug painfully into her skin. “I’m reserving judgment until I hear the story.”

Carolyn shrugged. “Fine.” She stood. “You’ll need something to practice on anyway. Ready to go?”

Jessa took a final sip of her coffee and stood. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Her great-aunt took her to a room filled with tables, cabinets, stoves, and all sorts of bowls, mixers, test tubes, and cooking implements. It looked like an evil scientist’s lab. She told Jessa there were five such rooms in the enclave, but she’d reserved this one for their personal use.

They spent the morning cooking up spells and imbuing Jessa’s talisman with them, layer after layer of spells. The process was similar to the one she’d used on her own at Broder’s keep, using the papers he’d brought her as instruction. But this time, either because she was with her people in the enclave or because she had a little practice under her belt, it all came easier to her.

This magick was in her blood. It bubbled up from the depths of her. It was as if she’d found a piece of herself that had been missing, that piece that had made her out of step with most of the people she’d ever known, the piece that had made her feel like an outcast from her own life.

Now she understood why she’d always been the outsider. Now that she’d found her people, her magick, all that was over. The broken shards were mended. She was whole, seamless, complete.

In that room with her great-aunt Carolyn, she felt better than she had, perhaps,
ever
, with the exception of the time she’d spent in Broder’s arms. Yet every time she thought of him, an odd sensation came over her and her emotions turned away. It was a coping strategy, maybe. Heaven knew, she needed one to deal with his loss. An insulation had formed between her and thoughts of him and she was happy to have it.

Anyway, it was of no matter. What was really important right now was the magick, the enclave, the
seidhr
. She loved it here so much that she was certain she would devote the rest of her life to this place,
her people
. Her mind was focused on that, her new goal.

Even though the charms she and Carolyn layered the talisman with were silly, harmless ones, charms to throw iridescent rainbows across the room, light a candle from ten feet away, or make the limbs of a tree seem to dance, a sense
of power filled Jessa. Soon a light filled her eyes and her cheeks glowed a bright healthy pink.

Every time she caught sight of herself in the large mirror hanging on one wall, she barely recognized herself. Never had the woman she saw in the reflection been this satisfied or excited by a possibility for her future. She’d come late to her magick, but she had the rest of her very long life to breathe life into it.

By early afternoon, she was a woman obsessed, absorbing every tidbit and pointer that Carolyn offered her. She was smudged with eleven different kinds of flower dust, coated in mashed and grated minerals, and smeared with various other arcane ingredients she never would have predicted would ever lie in her hands … or be used to concoct a spell.

She kept putting off Carolyn when she suggested breaks. She wanted to learn everything in a day, it seemed.

Little by little, Broder completely slipped away.

Roan watched at Thorgest’s side through the two-way mirror. Jessa seemed to have no idea she was being watched. She was consumed—obsessed—with the work at hand. From what he’d observed, she had a natural inclination for the magick, not unexpected considering her lineage. Yet she still needed a considerable amount of tutelage if she expected to make anything of herself as a witch.