Witch & Curse (56 page)

“Allons-y!”
she shouted, gesturing to half a dozen of her ghostly companions. She pointed with the tip of her sword at the yacht. “We'll board her!”

“Non, non,”
a voice sounded in her head. “Below decks.”

Her horse galloped at an angle, its hooves working underwater. A line of portholes gleamed with magical energy at Holly's eye level.

She knew deep in her soul that Silvana and Kialish were inside.

“Attack!” she shouted.

All around her, her fighters launched themselves at the line of portholes, smashing them with sheer bodily mass—startling, for they were phantoms—and Holly's horse flew into the gash. It was pitch black inside.

The vessel immediately listed and began taking on water.

Holly leaped off her horse into the icy bay, slogging waist-deep, shouting, “Silvana! Kialish!”

Her right knee hit something; she reached down and grabbed a head of hair. There were two of them.

They're tied together
.

She felt down farther and found ropes, gathered her hands around them, and began to struggle back toward the gash.

The yacht was going down.

“Horse!” she shouted.

Her horse chuffed at her, and she dragged the nearly dead weight toward it.

How long have they been under? Goddess, protect them, keep them alive
. . . .

Then, with strength she knew she did not possess, she hoisted them up out of the water.

In the moonlight she saw the faces of Silvana and Kialish, slack and empty, and she feared the worst. But there was no use worrying about that know.

With her sword she cut them free, trying to position them so that they would be able to stay on the horse. But they were too limp.

“Help here!” she bellowed.

Two phantoms rode up. One was a skeleton; the other was dressed in the soggy clothing of a Jamestown Puritan. Each took one of the stricken comrades without comment, laying them in front of them over their saddles.

Holly slapped the horses' flanks and said, “Back to shore.”

The horsemen complied.

Then all at once, the yacht went down.

Coughing and vomiting water, Kialish regained consciousness. He was staring straight at the yacht when it sank beneath the surface. That was shock enough; what was worse was that Laurent, the ghostly leader of the Deveraux, dove in after it astride a huge black horse.

In his right hand he carried a wicked-looking sword. In his left, a magic wand.

The water he dove into glowed blood red.

Kialish closed his eyes.
He's after Holly
.

By the change in the troops around him, he knew he was right. Those who still had faces looked stricken; skull jaws dropped open. Heads tilted back. There was screaming such as Kialish had never heard before. Fear boiled around him.

The Deveraux saw their panic and redoubled their fight . . . and Holly's army began to falter.

All this Kialish saw with a strange, lockstep clarity. He knew what was happening almost before it occurred.

He also knew that Laurent was going to kill Holly . . . unless something could be done.

Something can be done
, said a voice inside his head.
You can do it
.

Though he was being carried along at breakneck speed, a woman's figure shimmered in front of him. She was holding a mirror, and she gestured for Kialish to look into it.

He saw Holly drowning Hecate. He knew why she had done it.

She needs to give something more to the water
, the figure said.
Something of value
.

The figure faded, then vanished, her mirror with her. The red glow where he had last seen Holly bloomed and spread like blood on the water.

Kialish thought of Eddie, and his heart ached.

You will see him again. I swear it

He thought of all the things he had planned to do with his life.

You will do other things, on another plane
.

And then quickly as he could, so that he couldn't be saved, Kialish heaved himself into the water.

It was black, and filled with energy and things that moved; as something dove into the water above him—his rescuer, perhaps—something else grabbed on to his ankles and began to pull him down into the water, too far down to breathe, ever again, even though within seconds, his lungs were screaming for air . . .

. . . and then in a shimmering sphere, he saw Eddie, his arms outstretched; he stretched out his own, or thought he did; his mind was fuzzy and he was starting to die. But there was Eddie. . . .
Yes
. . .

. . . and he loved him, and he would be with him.

Yes.

And the Goddess took what had been offered her, upon the water.

TWELVE

HARVEST MOON

We savor all the death we cause
Tear the bodies with teeth and claws
Drink the blood and eat the flesh
Quickly now while they're still fresh

Cahors now have too much power
We glory in our unholy hour
Twisting, turning they will writhe
As we harvest them with scythes

Holly: Seattle, November

The coven went to Dan's, though the shaman had taken Uncle Richard to San Francisco to keep him from harm.

Now, facing her covenates, Holly couldn't meet their eyes. She had done something horrible. She could feel it in the weight of the stares on her. Still, in her very core, defiance stirred. She had done what she had to, what was necessary to save them, all of them.

Except Kialish
.

She couldn't stop the tears that burned the back of her eyes. Kialish was her failing, though she knew he had chosen to sacrifice himself to save her. Had she not needed saving, had she been more powerful, then he would still be alive.

She closed her eyes, remembering what it had felt like when he died. There had been one intense moment of pain followed by a surge of power unlike everything she had ever felt before. Even the water seemed to push back from her as though in awe of the energy crackling through her veins.

Holly has lost it
, Tommy thought as he stared at her. She swayed slightly, and he wondered what she was seeing, what she was feeling. Beside him Amanda sat and he could feel her anger and her fear. Holly was beyond them now.

He would never forget the terrible things he had seen the night before, watching, helpless, from the shore.

It shouldn't be this way. It isn't right
.

He stared around at the others and knew they were thinking the same. He knew that Kari was thinking of leaving the group; she had all but said it. He would go if he could, but he was bound. Still, his loyalty was to Amanda, not Holly. If Amanda chose to follow Holly then he would too.

Anne-Louise could still feel her heart pounding in her chest. It seemed as though it had not slowed since the battle's end. The news she had to deliver to the Cathers witches from Mother Coven had done nothing to soothe her nerves. The thought of breaking that news to Holly just made her heart pound harder.

Holly was unlike anything she had ever seen. The young witch's power was tremendous, greater than she even guessed. In time she would learn how to use and harness her power. She would be nearly unstoppable then. Now, though, she was still too wild, too untrained. She wasted much of her strength, and she had no idea of the unplumbed depths within her.

Anne-Louise could not help but wonder what Holly would be like had she also been raised in the coven. She would be more skilled, stronger, certainly more controlled.
And maybe none of this mess with the Deveraux would have happened
.

She shook her head. That wasn't true. As long as there were Deveraux and Cahors alive there would be a blood feud. It was a shame, such a waste of time and magic. The rift between the two families was too great, though, for even her to mend. Some things couldn't be fixed with words. Some truce's couldn't last and sometimes peace could not be forged.

She smiled wryly Not that anyone was even trying to do those things. No, the feud between the two families was permitted, perhaps even secretly encouraged by both the Supreme Coven and the Mother Coven. The power of House Deveraux and House Cahors was too fearsome, and the only way either coven had truly found to control it was to keep it focused elsewhere. As long as Deveraux and Cahors were fighting each other neither could take over one of the covens ... or the world.

She cleared her head of such thoughts; it would not do to have them read by others. She took a deep breath. Time to face Holly and her coven.

She passed through the wards without needing to break them. It was a trick that, so far as she knew, she alone in Coventry could do. It was a lost art, mentioned only once in one of the ancient texts. It had taken her fifteen years to learn to do it. It came in handy, though, whenever she wanted to arrive unannounced.

Holly and company stared up at her in shock as she lifted her veil of invisibility and appeared in their midst. She surveyed the ragtag group, noting their injuries, both the physical ones and the mental ones.

She wished that she was bringing them comfort. Unfortunately it was quite the opposite.

Nicole had to admit that it felt good to bathe. She had been given some privacy, or at least she thought she had. As she disrobed she couldn't put from her mind the thought that someone might be spying on her. She had fought the urge to dive into the bathtub, clothes and all. Instead she had forced herself to undress slowly.

She was enough of a performer to make a good show of it, even if her hands were shaking. Now, as she lay in the steaming bath, she scrubbed away all the dirt with a loofa and vanilla-scented soap. Rose petals floated in the water.

She felt more like a virgin about to be sacrificed than a bride. She shivered despite the warmth of the water. As she sunk lower in the water, she thought of how she had nearly drowned in the last bathtub she had been in. She vaguely remembered a foolish vow never to take another bath and only to shower. But that was before the dirt.

Her mind drifted back over the past twenty-four hours. Sir William had been furious when James had presented her. She hadn't needed any special powers to sense that. Not half as furious as Amanda and Holly would be if they knew. She couldn't help but smirk weakly at the thought.

Would they think that she had lost her mind, or worse, her heart? Amanda would probably think the worst. After all, in the good old days hadn't Nicole gone out with Eli, attracted to his darkness?

What would Amanda and Holly think when she didn't come home? Would they look for her? Were they okay? Amanda had tried to tell her something, something about a ferry, but she had had no time to listen.
She said that Eddie was dead
. Nicole had not known him well enough to mourn him, but still she shuddered. Things could not be good back home. They probably needed her, and now she couldn't go to them.

I'm not flaking on you, Amanda. I just can't get out of this one
.

She closed her eyes and fought the urge to explode into giddy hysteria. Amanda didn't know her anymore. She barely knew herself.

No, in the old days she would probably have been attracted to James. She freely admitted it. That was back when she confused dark with strong, before she had felt the power of the Light. Before Philippe had held her while she cried.

Her heart ached at the thought of him. She knew he would be coming for her, but he didn't know when. Her job was to stay alive until he did, no matter
the cost, no matter that she had to marry the devil to survive.

The Cathers/Anderson Coven: Seattle, November

“What do you want?” Amanda asked, breaking the silence.

In the shaman's house, Anne-Louise stared unblinkingly from one to another. “You, all of you. Holly has been summoned to meet with the Mother Coven in Paris, and everyone is to come along.”

“Why should we?” Holly asked.

“Because we can help you.” Anne-Louise continued to hold the room a moment longer. Finally she stepped backward, and everyone started talking all at once.