Cora stiffened. She didn’t like being corrected. Arguing with Deidre in the privacy of the family quarters, when it was just the two of them, was one thing. But showing a mutinous streak in front of strangers was not acceptable.
“Everything takes time, Deidre. You know that.”
She didn’t give an inch. Cora wasn’t sure whether to be proud or angry when Deidre countered, “But every day that goes by, women are dying.”
“Nonsense,” Cora said, waving one perfectly manicured hand to dismiss the notion, all the while making a mental note to take this conversation up with her daughter at a later date. For now, she simply said, “We’re not barbarians. This is a nation of laws, Deidre. All of our citizens have rights. Have you forgotten?”
Her daughter clammed up at last, but there was still an insubordinate gleam in her eyes.
A chubby redhead with a face full of freckles spoke up then, demanding Cora’s attention. All at once she felt as though she was sitting before a congressional hearing. She resented being treated in such a manner when she’d gone out of her way in agreeing to this meeting in the first place. Cora forced a smile as she faced the redhead.
“It’s not nonsense, Madam President. I’m from Wyoming and last week five women were killed in a camp outside Cheyenne.”
“I read about that accident.” In fact, Cora had received a complete briefing on the facts only yesterday. “Terrible. Just terrible. I understand there was a fire?”
“It was arson,” the redhead claimed.
“That’s a serious charge, young lady,” Cora said. At the rebuke, she saw the woman stiffen in insult. Well, she was young. As to whether she was a lady, Cora was less and less convinced of that fact as the meeting went on.
“Do you have proof of your accusation?” she asked, all business now. “My aides have been in contact with the warden and according to him, there was an accidental fire in the laundry area.”
“Was it accidental that the door was locked from the outside and the women had no chance of escape?”
Cora frowned and tapped her fingernails against the arm of the Louis XVI chair she sat in. She hadn’t heard about locked doors. Was it possible the warden had been less than forthcoming? “I’ll certainly look into the matter at once. These camps operate under a federal umbrella and as such are subject to the government’s oversight. If you’re correct, we’ll take action.”
“Don’t you get it, Mom?” Deidre asked quietly. “There
is
no oversight. These prisons are death traps. You swore you’d shut them down and—”
“Deidre,” Cora said, her voice icy, “I’m doing all I can—”
“It’s not enough,” the brunette said. “I’m sorry, Madam President, but if the government can’t take care of things, the people will.”
“Is that some sort of threat?” Cora asked, again waving away her ever-present Secret Service agent.
“Of course not.” Deidre spoke up quickly, shooting her friend a hard look. “But, Mother, women are dying and we can’t stand by and watch.”
Cora nodded. “I understand your impatience. I assure you, I will have this matter looked into at the highest level.”
Deidre gave her a broad, approving smile, but the other women didn’t look as pleased. Well, young and eager was good, but they also had to learn that the wheels of justice turned slowly enough that sometimes it seemed as though they were rolling backward.
Of course, Cora thought as she poured more tea, how things looked and how they actually were were often two very different things.
Chapter 20
T
eresa’s heart and mind were shattered. She clung to Rune, the last stable point in her universe. She watched through slitted eyes as he called on the flames and swept them out of Sedona and into unfamiliar territory. Again and again, in a series of long jumps. But to Teresa, one stop was much like the other.
For two days they traveled, stopping only long enough to eat and sleep. They rested in the desert for a few hours the first night and then were on the move again early the next morning. When they were hungry, Rune would leave her somewhere safe, flash into a grocery store and help himself to the food they needed.
Teresa had never been much of a camper and this frenzied trip across Arizona and the border area wasn’t changing her mind on the subject. But Rune didn’t want to head directly to Chiapas. He felt that if they were being followed, it was worth the extra time it would take to throw the hunters off their trail first.
And so it went. On and on. Teresa was exhausted, but she couldn’t complain, since he was going to so much trouble to keep her safe. But it was more than being tired. Her heart hurt. She had been prepared for this madness—at least as much as she could have prepared. But her destiny had cost her friend her
life.
Regret would be with her for the rest of her own life—whether that was a week or eternity.
Clinging to Rune’s broad shoulders, Teresa became numb to what was happening around her. A sudden stop, the fires that covered Rune would snap off and then come to life again before his blurring speed sent them back on the run. Again and again, he continued on, long into the night until blackness and fire were all she could see.
That made sense to her. Her soul was dark now, too, with the flames of rage burning at its center. Always she had prepared for this day, for her witchcraft to materialize and for her Eternal to show himself. But she had never expected to gain and lose so much all at the same time.
Rune stopped again and the fire surrounding them died away. This time, though, he didn’t flash them forward; he stayed perfectly still, holding her in the circle of his arms. They must be stopping for the night again and she was grateful for the reprieve.
She took comfort from his touch, so she forced herself to step back and away from him. He released her, as if he knew that she needed some space. For an immortal warrior, he was proving to be surprisingly understanding. If only he didn’t look at her with eyes that accused her of crimes she couldn’t even remember committing.
The moment he let her go, Teresa missed his warmth, his strength, but she had to stand on her own two feet. Regain her inner power. Soon the Mating ritual would begin and to face Rune as an equal, she had to find balance. She must become the witch she was destined to be. So she had to be strong in her own right.
Looking around, she couldn’t see anything beyond the star-filled sky overhead and the inky darkness of the desert. “Where are we?”
“Just across the border. We’re in Mexico.”
Chico lifted off her shoulder and flew in circles above their heads, as if the tiny bird had needed a break, too. She watched him for a second, then nodded to Rune and pulled in a deep breath. Grateful to be away from Sedona, she said, “Good. That’s good. How far from Chiapas?”
“Far enough,” he told her. “For now, anyway. There’s a village ahead.” He pointed and Teresa shifted her gaze in that direction. All she saw was a smudge of pale light in the utter darkness ahead of them.
“We’re staying there?” Surprise colored her voice because for the last two days he’d deliberately kept her away from people.
“No,” he told her. “We’ll get some supplies, then head back into the desert. We’ll continue on after we’ve rested.”
Sleeping in the desert wasn’t something she could look forward to, Teresa thought, her mind filling with images of snakes and tarantulas and God knew what else. At least last night she hadn’t actually had to sleep on the sun-baked sand. Instead, Rune had found an abandoned shack for them to rest in.
She looked around again and realized there were no shacks out here. Then she turned her head and looked toward the distant village. There would be people there—so it would be dangerous. She could hope that word of what had happened in Sedona hadn’t traveled this far south already. But the reality was that the MPs were probably on their trail and who knew how far their reach extended.
Rune started walking, his long, easy strides forcing her to run to keep up with him. Her boots kicked at dirt and sand, and she had to fight past the fatigue clawing at her. She hadn’t slept well last night. Her dreams were haunted not only by her own past but also by images of what her enemies had done to Elena. All she really wanted, Teresa thought, was to find some safe, quiet corner where she could curl up and whimper.
Which sounded so damn cowardly, it made her shudder. In response to that stray wienerlike thought, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
She looked toward the few lights shining in the desert blackness. “Should be safe enough there, right? I mean, the feds are looking for us in Sedona.”
“True. We should have some time before the hunt goes international.”
“I need to get some candles, too, if we can find some,” she said.
He glanced at her. “For what?”
“Candle magic. I need my memories, right?”
His eyes shuttered as he turned his head forward again. “Yes.”
“There’s that look again,” she muttered, then spoke up louder. “Tell me more, Rune. About that night. The night everything went to hell.”
“You should remember on your own.”
“And in a perfect world, sure.” Teresa reached out to grab his arm and he stopped dead. When he was looking at her, she said, “You already prodded me once. I need the memories. You told me yourself. So help me.”
He scowled. “There’s not much more to tell.”
“Then it shouldn’t take long,” she argued.
He spoke then and as his voice wove a spell of words around her, images filled Teresa’s mind and the long-dead past came vibrantly to life.
Teresa felt the swell of power surrounding her and her sisters. The moonlight was bright, shining down from a star-studded black sky. A banefire, built on the bones of slaughtered animals, burned brightly in the center of their circle. The Eternals stood just beyond the ring of power, each of them formidable in his disapproval. Each of them trying to fight past the strength of the magic used to keep him out.
Teresa looked at her own Eternal. The immortal man who came to her bed every night and showed her bliss. His features were twisted as he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the cacophony of sound that seemed to shriek from the very air.
She loved him. A part of her always would. She had promised him that she wouldn’t join the coven tonight. That she would go away with him. But the lure of power was stronger even than her love. Besides, how could she turn away from the women who were like her own blood? She stood with her sisters and called on the gods to hear them. They focused their combined magics on the Artifact before them and in the wildly flickering light demanded the knowledge of the ages. Demanded that doors closed to mankind would open to them.
Doors to other dimensions. Other worlds open to new possibilities.
She saw it all. Lived it all. She tasted the excitement of magic in the air and swallowed the bitter dregs of regret as a door finally opened and the first of the demons rushed through.
Chaos reigned.
The Eternals fought valiantly. The coven strove to undo the harm they had done. But the screams of the dead and dying were all-consuming.
The coven’s wards failed under the onslaught of so much dark energy. Demons and Eternals alike entered the sacred circle and destroyed it. Her sisters were dying all around her. Teresa shuddered under the hideous onslaught of memory. She watched herself as she had once been, struggling to close the gate to hell. But despite her efforts, there were demons who escaped into this world before the gate swung shut. And she saw the fury on the face of the immortal who loved her.
“Oh, my God.” She looked up at him, struggling for air. Her lungs were constricted, as if she was still breathing in that awful fire.
“You saw.”
“I did,” she said, nodding as she looked up into his eyes. “We let demons loose into this world.”
“Most of them were hunted down that night,” he told her. “My brothers and I saw to that. But yes. A few remained.” He swept his gaze across the dark desert, as if expecting for one of the demons to materialize in front of him. “And the doorway you closed wasn’t sealed that night. Not completely. Dark energy still spills through the portal. That is why we have to find the Artifact. We have to undo what you and your sisters did.”
“And my memories will tell me where the Artifact is?”
“Your piece of it, yes,” he said. “After the battle, the coven shattered the Artifact—each of you taking away one piece and hiding it somewhere in the world.”
“That narrows it down.”
He frowned at her and Teresa said, “Sorry. Sorry. What else?”
“A spell of atonement was cast. The coven would give up their powers for eight hundred years. At the end of that time, the Awakening would come. And you would gather to put right what went so wrong.”
“So you’ve been waiting …”
“A
very
long time,” he said.
“And the Mating ritual will help open my memories?”
“Yes.”
“We weren’t mated then, were we?”
“No,” he said, starting to walk again. “None of the witches wanted to share power. You all kept us at a distance.”
His tone told her that he still hadn’t forgiven her that betrayal.
“Well, no more distance, Rune. We have to start the Mating ritual soon. For everybody’s sake.”
He shot her a look as she hurried to keep up with him and when his gaze landed on her, nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach.
An inner voice laughed at her. Trying to convince herself that she was ready for sex with Rune only for the greater good wasn’t working. No, the truth was, when she was around him, her entire body hungered. She remembered the feel of his body sliding into hers. She wanted to touch him again. To feel the heat of him surrounding her.