lightning witch 02 - lightning legacy (2 page)

THE LETTER WAS
easy. I poured everything into it. She needed to be prepared for what was to come. The interfering god never said she couldn’t be warned. I also made a plan for my power. I knew what the God meant by gifting my power. And I knew who to give it to. The thought would have made me giggle had the situation not been so grim. I stowed the letter in a security deposit box and would leave a note telling Delaney where to go to find it. I shoved the coin and the small key in my pocket and grabbed a piece of paper, readying to write Delaney a message. What should it say? Sorry, I'm dead?

My phone began wailing over the quiet of my house, completely adding to the tension I was already feeling. I groaned, but answered anyway.

“What do ya want?” I spat at the receiver.

"Hey, Mil. Are you up for having guests? I thought I would bring a few friends by…"

"Ah, Laney girl. Fine and when you get here we can talk about you moving."

Maybe I could just avoid this whole thing if only she would agree to it.

“Yes, Mil, I’ll think about moving. We should be there in about five hours.”

Her tone was clipped.

I knew she would never run, not anymore. She was growing in her strength. I winced at the thought because I wouldn’t get to see her with that power. I choked back the emotion I was feeling. I did not need her questioning me.

There was a firm knock at the door. I could feel power and menace thrumming and I knew who it was.

"Laney girl, I have to go. There is a man here to clean my carpet." It was a lie, but it was the best I could come up with as my mind and nerves were just about shot.

“Oh, okay. Bye.” Her tone was disappointed and it alone almost caused me to break.

"Bye, my love," I choked out and hung up the phone. Another knock sounded at the door. Apparently death was on a time line.

“Ah, hold on to your panties. Don’t you know I’m old? Give me a damn second.”

I took a deep breath, settled my resolve and opened the door.

Standing before me was a tall man with stunning green eyes and nearly black hair. He eyed me warily.

“Well what do you want, wolf?”

His eyes went from bright green to glowing.

"Old woman, what did you tell her about the prophecy?" he said, barging in through the door and nearly knocking me over.

“Everything,” I lied. I had a shot of fear that this male could be her mate. However, I remembered Taranis said he would not let harm come to her.

“Well then,” he said, facing me.

I walked into the kitchen and raised my hands to him. He froze at the sight of my glowing hands. I was an Earth Witch and as much as I would die this day I wouldn’t do so quietly. I pulled not from my core like most witches, but directly from the Earth itself. His eyes went incandescent with fury. I had no time and I knew it. Then he did something I did not expect. He rushed me. There were no words with this male. I let go of the Earth magic I’d gathered. He hit me with the force of a train. The force at which my head connected with the ground was nearly enough to cause me to black out. I was slightly dazed and felt his hand circling around my throat. My hands flew to his, trying to no avail to pry him off of me. But, alas, I was old and he was far too strong. I could use my magic, but the God's words rang over and over in my head. His grip tightened and he leaned down to snarl in my ear.

"She will be mine to do what I want with. She will carry my babe."

With what little energy I had left, I shoved a hand into my pocket and grabbed the coin that, at my touch, soaked into my skin. Instantly the pain was gone. I felt a surge of exquisite power. It was time to send my power off. And I knew who to gift it to. With my last bit of strength I dug deep inside myself, grabbed a tentative hold of my power, and sent it out of myself.

I met this man’s eyes and with my last gasp said, “She will never be your mate. It can never be.”

His eyes went wide and his grip tightened yet more. He continued to yell at me, but my hearing was gone. The blackness swirled around my vision, reminding me of the swirls of snow from my dream. I didn't want my last thought to be of this wolf. So I thought of Delaney playing with a small plastic tea set. I thought of her smile and I smiled. This was for her. Everything was always for her. I let go and slipped into the darkness. Ah, there was the snow.

POMPEII. I REMEMBERED
reading about Pompeii when I was in high school. I couldn't recall which of the four high schools I was attending when I read about it though. That's neither here nor there. I remembered seeing people frozen, encased in stone. It never had much of an impact on me until now. It made me wonder if their souls were trapped in their stone prisons. Could they feel the world around them? Were they in an unyielding cell? I liked to imagine I knew them.
Hell, maybe we are family
. I knew them, because I was one of them. My prison’s walls were made of drywall, reinforced by self-loathing and hatred.

I felt myself falling down a hole I might never be able to escape from. It's a rabbit hole, Alice. That's what I tried to convince myself of, that at the other end of this abyss of blackness and pain, there was a world of wonder. But all I could see were the walls of my confinement and wolves at every turn. I was becoming cynical, someone I barely recognized. I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to rid myself of any thoughts of a land of wonder, because my life held little magic. I tried like hell to grasp the edge of this hole. I knew I couldn’t hold on. It was a futile effort on my part. I realized belatedly that I had let go of the edge a long time ago, and now I was falling with little hope that someone would catch me. Frankly, I wished I would slam into the Earth and break into a thousand shards of myself. I closed my eyes and tried to picture it.

It had been four months since that night. The night I died. I had this internal storm I couldn’t seem to quell. It writhed just below the surface and I had no idea how to stop it. I spent my days locked in this room and my nights being forced by Mitch to change into my wolf form and hunt. I hated what my life had become and I felt broken. I rolled over again, this time I buried my face in the mountain of pillows, trying to suffocate myself. Well okay, not really. But now, with this new life? Punishment? I saw little good. So death by pillows didn’t sound too bad to me.

I feel like I have another being inside of me, clawing at the sides of its cages trying to pry its way out.
I had to see the face of the man who did this to me almost daily. And the man I love was locked away under the threat of death. My life had become something unrecognizable and something not worth living.

I heard footsteps coming closer to the room I was kept in. I froze, trying to calm my heart rate. The locks rattled and clicked. The door was in desperate need of some WD-40. It howled as though it were in pain. I could smell the man on the other side and it made my hackles bristle. It was him. The ass fuck who did this to me. I did my best to be nice. Okay, that was a lie, I didn’t. The prick killed me. I wasn’t likely to forget about that, nor any of the other things he had forced on me since. I tried and failed to stifle a shudder at the recent memories.

He was in the room now. I could hear his breathing hitch and smell his growing arousal. It disgusted me. He walked over to the side of the bed and sat down. I wouldn't show fear, nor would I shake at the sight of him.

He smoothed a hand over my hair down to my back.
Don’t throw up. Or wait, maybe I should.

“Delaney, come on. I know you’re awake.”

God, even the sound of his voice was cocky. Even though, this was his "sweet" voice. Clearly he wanted something. I knew what he wanted though. I turned my head to look at him and the look in my eyes must have been more than words, because it caused him to withdraw his hand from me. I hated when he was gentle with me. It wasn't like him. He was just doing it to get on my good side. The thought of that nearly made me bust out in whoops of laughter. I think he was cemented on my bad side. His hand went to the back of my head. He grabbed a fist full of hair there and yanked me from my laying position until I was kneeling on the bed, supported only by him. The pain would have been excruciating while I was a human, now it was merely an annoyance. Nonetheless, I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling out.

He leaned into my ear and growled, "Is this how you want to start today? You want to get on my shit list? Because I'll tell you, Delaney, I could be so good to you." He trailed his other hand down my face, past my throat to my breast.

My skin crawled with disgust. I focused on the power in my core. Since my change, the well that had always been the focus of my power had grown. I pulled from it. This time the power rushed to me easily. I focused on his touch and pushed my power to my skin. He withdrew his hand as though he was burned. I smiled at him sweetly. He then wrenched his hand back and slapped me across the face. My cheek burned with the pain of his strike and my mouth filled with blood from clamping down on my tongue. His hand at the back of my head gripped tighter and he pulled me back even farther. I was bent so far back I began to feel pain in my thighs.

“Dammit. That hurt,” I spat at him.

“I’ll close my hand next time,” he hissed.

“Mitch, god dammit, what are you trying to accomplish?” I gritted out through clenched teeth. My hands instinctively went to his on the back of my head, trying to steady myself and pry him off of me.

“You could make this easy. You could just give yourself to me. But, no. You fight what could feel so good. And now I’m going to have to take you to my room for punishment.”

His room.
Please no
. His words were like ice water. His room was something out of a horror movie.

“Mitch, what do you want?” I really did not want to spend another night being punished. My body began shaking at the memory of the one night I was in his room.

Without warning, he grabbed me between the legs. My breath left me. Ice pulsed through me. My shorts were only made of light cotton and I had no panties because Mitch refused to give them to me. I could smell how much he wanted me and the scent of it made my skin crawl. My hands flew from my hair to his hand grasping me and I dug my nails in. The scent of blood filled the room as I scored my nails that were curling into tiny claws along his wrists. I felt his warm blood form a trail from his wound down my thighs. He didn't even flinch at the pain. That pissed me off. I began pulling power from my core.

He began to squeeze me hard as he said, "This, Delaney. You give yourself to me without shocking me or causing me pain. Because I’m getting to the point where I’ll take it from you. Remember what is at stake here. You know he lives, but I can change that."

Just as fast as he grabbed me, he pushed me to the bed and let me go.

I felt him get off the bed and walk to the door. He absentmindedly rubbed his wrists in pain. At the gesture, I felt my lips quirk up into a smile. God, even that felt like a victory. He looked down at his hands and stopped. It was too late though. It was sad that something so trivial felt like such an accomplishment.

“Until your attitude improves, you won’t be allowed to hunt,” he said. Then I heard him lock the door. That felt like a reward. I curled up on my side, but wouldn’t cry. A tear trailed down my cheek despite what I wanted. My life was rubble and I simply wanted to lay down in the wreckage and waste away with the tatters of my life.

THREE DAYS, MITCH
didn't come back for three blessed days. The new moon was nearing and I could feel its draining pull on me. I, unlike the other werewolves, could shift from my human form in the span of a breath. However, it was still painful. I’d found a love of running though. Darting around trees and dodging any obstacle in my path was like a high for me. Mitch never let me out of his sight, but when he did allow me to hunt, it was exhilarating. But the act of the kill always discomforted me. I could never revel in it like the rest of Mitch’s pack. Speaking of those assholes, they lived for the kill. For me, being in my wolf form, it wasn’t about the kill, it was more about letting the wild part of me go to the forefront and really letting loose. It was about more than death for me; it was so much about life. But the thought of warm blood coating my tongue sent a shiver through my body. I hated that part of me.