Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night (40 page)

“Kill me? Oh, you fanciful child.”

Her amusement rankled.

“I'll tell you. Eighteen decades ago, a spoiled princess bade me enchant him.”

Mari's lips parted. There'd been an enchantment—but it hadn't been Mari's.

Behind her, she heard Bowen's struggles abruptly cease. This revelation had no doubt confounded him.

Häxa continued, “Seems Mariah hadn't appreciated that when all other males fawned after her, begging for her hand, Bowen had absolutely no interest in her, even seemed to disdain her—Mariah, a
princess
. For years, she loved him from afar, or at least she fancied herself in love with him. No other would do. She
had
to have him. So I granted her wish, knowing that this situation would be replete with pain and suffering—and that if I grant a wish, I get to reap the misery from the outcomes of
all involved
.

“I gave him to her, and her to him, then killed her within weeks. On the night I caused her death, I realized that the wolf would lead me
to you,
the Awaited One. I merely watched him until you came into his life.” She turned to Bowen. “Thank you for removing her cloak for me. The red made my vision irritatingly blurry.”

“And the plane wreck?” Mari said. “The earthquake when we were on the bridge?”

“That was merely playing. Every time this one thought he'd lose you again, I got an infusion of despair. Besides, the demon pilot begged me to unfreeze his family, volunteering to do anything for me. How could I resist?”

Mari's animosity toward the pilot left her in a rush.

Häxa continued, “Since I've returned as Bowen's dead mate resurrected, he's given me a veritable feast of misery, seasoned with guilt. Delectable. I could have killed you at any time. But you hadn't used your magick against me, so I
couldn't siphon it from you. And captromancer, I do so want your unique powers.”

*  *  *

Häxa?
Bowe struggled to comprehend what was happening.

She can assume any form,
Mariketa had said. And Häxa was revealing that he had, in fact, been under an enchantment—but long before he'd ever met Mariketa.

Mariketa held out one of her hands in his direction, displaying a strange mirror in the palm of her glove. Suddenly, his medallion began tearing from his neck, shooting pain through him. It was as though the thing had planted deep roots in his skin that were now being stripped away, tearing as they went. In the past, every time he'd decided to remove it, he'd always forgotten to. Now he knew why, and now he understood why Mariketa hadn't sensed another curse on him—because it had been a
part
of him, like a cancer.

Once freed, the medallion flew across the room to her. She caught it, then melted it in the heat of her mirrored palm, until it resembled a lead ball.

When she dropped it to the ground, a thick haze seemed to be lifted from Bowe's vision. Now when he gazed at the image of Mariah, he felt nothing but . . .
fury
.

For so long he'd suffered immeasurable grief. He'd walked around like the living dead in an existence of nothing but longing and pain—and it was all because of the
whim of a spoiled princess
.

Mariah had invited this sorceress into his life, had ensured that Häxa found Mariketa, and had driven a wedge between Bowe and his true mate. Mariketa hadn't even seemed able to stand the sight of him earlier.

“Vain witch, did you see your parents' bodies? My handiwork is so beautiful.”

What had been done to her parents?

“You won't feed off me, Häxa. I feel only hatred.”

“No loss. I've had a surfeit from that Lykae and am as strong as I've ever been. Are you certain you wish to battle me? When I take your powers, I'll be a goddess once more.”

“When I take yours, I'll be a sorceress,” Mariketa said, sounding confident and as brave as ever.

“You have no idea what you toy with, child. But tonight, on another eve brimming with purpose, I'll teach you one last lesson.”

Häxa finally began to shuck her disguise, like a snake slithers from its dead skin. The windows exploded and wind rushed in, howling over them. Curtains flew and furniture skidded across the wooden floor. Pictures on the walls went flying like discs.

Her true form was hideous. The whites of her eyes grew black, the pupils a filmy yellow. Her skin was waxen and gray. She stood at least eight feet tall, with claws as long as his fingers.

In comparison, Mariketa looked so small and frail with her hair whipping, buffeted by the wind and struggling to remain upright.

Häxa raised her hands; Mariketa's eyes went wide. She opened her own palms and tossed a table in front of Häxa's beam just before it hit her. The wood disintegrated
into dust
.

Another two beams flashed out. Mari dodged one by shooting up on her toes and arching her back. The other hit her, sending her spinning into the wall.

The Instinct screamed inside Bowe for him to protect his own, yet he could do nothing.

Mariketa lurched under yet another beam, but she was
getting slower, weaker. At last, she fled, ducking behind a wall across from where Bowe was trapped. She slid down to the floor at the corner. He saw her swallow with fear, peek out from the edge of the wall, then squeeze her eyes shut as she barely missed a sudden blast by her face. Leaning her head back, she stared at the ceiling. He barely heard her whispering, “
Shit, shit, shit
.”

Run!
He wanted Mariketa to escape. Instead, she brought magick to her palms. Then, as if testing, she glanced around the corner . . . and finally threw a beam at the sorceress.

Häxa was shot across the room.

With her brows raised, Mariketa dropped her gaze to her gloved palms.

The sorceress shrieked with pain and rage. Smoke began to swirl in a tempest around her, growing thicker and thicker until she was concealed. Mariketa stood and crossed the room to face her, her eyes glowing feverishly, looking like she'd bloody follow her into the haze.

Doona go in there! Doona go
 . . .

He finally managed to roar his fear for her. At the edge of the tempest, Mariketa turned to him. But he didn't think she even saw him. A gruesome gray hand slithered out from the smoke and palmed her entire head. Just as claws dropped down like a cage over her forehead, Mariketa put her forefinger against her red lips to quiet him.

Then she
smiled
as she was yanked into the chaos.

He fought against his invisible bindings, grappling with all the strength in his body.
Arms free
. He had to get inside to her. The smoke choked him, blinding light sparking inside it—

Suddenly,
Häxa
was thrown from the tempest.

When Mariketa followed, her feet didn't touch the ground. She looked like nothing he'd ever seen—a killer ready for annihilation.

Mariketa kept her mirrored palms up, delivering a continuous beam at Häxa. Bowe could see Häxa's neck begin to stretch and heard bones snapping. Shrieking, she tossed frenzied beams at Mariketa, but they were useless. “Give me another, Häxa,” she sneered. “I didn't quite feel that.”

Take her head! Do it!

As if his frantic thoughts called her attention, Häxa raised her head and cast a beam at him.

The hit struck him like a battering ram to the chest. Bones shattered under the force.

H
er concentration was interrupted just long enough for Häxa to grasp her beams and pull. She yanked Mari into her like a pitched ball, then batted her away, sending her flying.

Mari landed on her back, with such a crushing force that blood sprayed from her mouth. Even prone, she tried to attack, raising her gloves, but Häxa had somehow bound her outgoing magick.

“Just stay down, child,” Häxa said, rising to her towering height to close in on Mari. “Your father didn't even make it this long. I yawned while I froze your mother.”

Häxa loomed over her, building magick in her eyes, her mouth, her hands. Building . . . building. She was going to use everything she had to finish this, to render Mari to ash.

The Queen of False Faces was just too strong.

The kill shot neared.

Coughing up blood, Mari lolled her head to the side, wanting to see Bowen a last time. . . .

The bone in one of his legs was broken, jutting up, piercing his jeans. His chest was bleeding profusely. The blood had spread out across the front of his shirt and was sopping a trail along the floor as he still struggled toward Mari.

All at once Mari understood why people fought losing battles—because if you want something badly enough,
you can't do anything else but fight for it
.

Mari would fight.

The mirror she'd climbed through lay on the floor between her and Bowen. She met his eyes, furtively opening her palm for it. Calling it to come to her, she might have budged a corner. Gnashing his teeth, he lunged for it, spinning it across the wood floor to her until her magick could seize it and draw it close.

The sorceress blinked her eyes at them, then shrieked with fury, letting loose her power. At the last second, Mari shoved the mirror upright, huddling behind the glass like a knight behind a shield against the fire of a dragon.

The beam reflected, trapping Häxa with her own unstoppable power.

So hot
 . . .
hold on
 . . .
fight!

Häxa's screams echoed, piercing the night. In a circle all around Mari, the force of the beam's overflow splintered the floor as though a jackhammer had broken through. Shards of wood flew upward. Stakes embedded themselves in the ceiling.

Just have to hold on longer than she can
.

Häxa's screams grew dimmer.

Hold on
. . . .

*  *  *

Bowe watched as Häxa's body seemed to rupture from within, cracking open into thick fissures. With her claw-tipped fingers clenched in pain, she began to shift—and a thousand forms flashed over her.

In the midst of them, Bowe spied a witch with raven hair and draped in a black stole.

Then . . . light exploded inside her, incinerating her.

Like an atomic bomb, a flat line of energy cast out before erupting straight up. The force blew the roof off the house, searing it to instant ash. Cinders wafted down as the walls groaned and collapsed.

Mariketa shakily set the mirror away. He saw her drop her head as if she were staring at her stomach.

“Oh.” She grasped something in her front, then yanked. Her fingers went limp and a spike of wood, dripping with blood, rolled from her grasp. Holding her side, she tried to stand, but fell back on her hip. Another unsteady attempt, and she finally made it to her feet.

When she faced Bowe, he winced at her bloodied face, the bruises already emerging. Her hair was coated with soot. As she limped to him, her eyes began returning to normal.

“Mari,” he grated, “you've got to heal yourself.”

“Bowen, your legs . . . your chest.”

“I'll be fine—”

Another sudden wind rushed over them, scattering debris. Mariketa cried out as an invisible force assailed her, seeming to strangle her from inside.

“What's happenin' tae you?” he yelled. “What is this?”

Grueling moments passed. When the wind eased, and she was released from whatever had gripped her, she appeared confused. “I think . . . I think that was Häxa's power. . . .”

If what Mari had said earlier about destroying a sorceress was true, then she'd just had an infusion of a near godlike power.

As she started for Bowe once more, the whites of her eyes and her irises seemed to become flooded with black, as
though ink had spilled inside them—like Häxa's had been. As if possessed, Mariketa swung her gaze from him until her uncanny eyes locked onto the glass on the floor.

Her expression was as if she were starving, even
lustful,
and she hurried to it, stepping directly atop it. The ground seemed to fall out from under her, and she dropped down, disappearing.

Bellowing with fear for her, Bowe dragged himself to the mirror to reach her. But she was gone.

He raked his claws down the glass, desperate to follow.