Witch in the Wind (Bandit Creek Books) Page 11

  Ferran didn’t rush her. He seemed to want to talk. “When I took you, I took great care not to damage you,” he said.

  Avy stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. “You threw me in the back of a truck and let me bash my head off the floor,” she shouted. “You could have killed me. Just like you killed my parents.” The pent up grief twisted with the terror in her gut. She stepped toward him, her mind consumed with the need to crush his throat with her bare, clenched hands.

  His body seemed to transform right before her eyes. His posture straightened, his eyes shimmered to cold, black diamonds and his face twisted until it no longer looked human. Some inner power radiated from his body and snapped her back a step. Holy, crap! The shimmer surrounding his body thickened to an opaque red. His aura. The color deepened as she watched. That couldn’t be good. Her mind cleared instantly and her survival instincts snapped back on.

  She stopped in her tracks and braced herself, watching his hands for some warning before he shot a fireball at her. She’d been stupid to antagonize him. “I’m sorry,” she said almost choking on the words. “This has all been such a shock.” She didn’t move a muscle. As if she were facing down an angry elk, she didn’t want to startle him into aggression. Getting herself killed wasn’t going to solve anything. When she was still standing after a couple of seconds, she forced her fists open and relaxed her body, trying to look contrite.

  Ferran drew in a long breath. “Of course. I know this is all very new to you. Your parents were indoctrinated in the old ways of the Witches Council.” His voice had returned to calm but she could see a vein in his temple throbbing with temper. “They wouldn’t give me what I wanted. I’m hoping you will be more reasonable.”

  This time she kept her mouth shut and her face blank. When he didn’t continue, she asked, even though she was sure she knew the answer, “What did you want from them?”

  Ferran was standing below her on an incline in the trail. Looking down at him brought a new level of ache into her sore neck. Her legs were starting to wobble from the strain of standing on the uneven path but she didn’t dare shift her weight. He might see her movement as a threat.

  “This,” he said. He reached into his pants pocket, and pulled something out.

  Avy squinted at the amulet he dangled in front of her face. “I need the other one.”

  It had to be the one from the bank—the one he’d stolen from her parents’ safe deposit box. Pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. The date of her parents escape aligned with the second, older bank receipt she’d found in her father’s desk. She might actually have his answer, but she’d be damned if she’d tell her parents’ killer.

  With that clear in her mind, she knew she was playing a dangerous game and wished again that Marcus was here to help her. Damn it all, she had to save herself. “I don’t have it with me,” she said. It wasn’t original but it was all she could think of.

  “Did Marcus get it from you already?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that. It hadn’t occurred to her but it made sense this warlock, or whatever he was, knew about Marcus. How big could the magical world be?

  She tried a diversion. “Are you a Guardian too?”

  “Yes,” he said. His voice held pride yet she sensed there was at least one part lie in his response. It had seemed clear cut the way Marcus described it; either you were chosen from your family as a Guardian or you weren’t. She could see a thick silver chain around Ferran’s neck but couldn’t be sure it was an amulet.

  “If you really are a Guardian, you already have an amulet of your own.” She was careful to keep her tone even. She wanted to find out what this was all about without setting off his temper. “What good is another one? You can’t be Guardian for more than one family, can you?”

  “Obviously, Marcus is still hiding things from you, isn’t he?” He used his teacher voice again but now it was edged with malice.

  “I guess so.” Marcus was keeping his secrets. His face, as he’d looked only a few hours earlier, was a carefully blank, emotionless, mask. Ferran had hit a nerve but she tried not to let it show. “Could you help me understand?” Ferran had an inflated ego so she played to it.

  “Things are changing on our side of the portal. With change comes opportunity as your leaders say.” His smile was cold. Ferran shrugged as if none of it mattered. “Council isn’t as secure as it used to be. I’m going to be part of a new order,” he said.

  Then he stepped closer to her. She stood as still as the air before a storm. Perspiration beaded her upper lip with the effort to hold every muscle motionless. It was as if time stopped.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes hardened. “I know Marcus has you fooled.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m not the only one after the amulets. Council sent Marcus to get them away from you.” He cocked his eyebrow as if waiting for her reaction.

  She figured there was some bad history between the two guardians. Jealousy was a nasty emotion yet, looking back, Marcus had been very interested in the amulets. Then again, he’d explained about his investigation. Defending Marcus was her first instinct but it might not be the smart thing to do right now. She didn’t know what response Ferran was looking for so she said nothing.

  He laughed, a cold, hard sound that stood the hair up on her neck. “Now, of course, they’re afraid Marcus might screw up his assignment. He could let his feelings for you get in his way. My uncle has been quite distracted since the last meeting.”

  What feelings? Did Marcus have feelings for her? There’d been the kiss that probably hadn’t meant anything to him. To be fair, though, there had been strength when he anchored her to call back the storm. Gentleness when he told her about her parents’ past. Even comfort when she realized her parents had destroyed Old Town. He was her friend. Maybe more.

  Ferran was playing mind games with her. She didn’t know what was real anymore. Stick to present danger. Distract the killer. Keep him talking. “Who is your uncle and why would he care about Marcus?” This Witches Council had more twists and turns than tumbleweed. How could Marcus stand being part of it?

  “My uncle is the OverMaster of the Witches Council.” Arrogance oozed from his voice then quickly took on an edge. “Uncle Pelles trained Marcus for guardianship.” That could breed serious competition—and jealousy—between two young men.

  Ferran took a menacing step towards her.

  She automatically retreated a step.

  “And I know Marcus didn’t mention his latest order.” He leaned closer, the malice shining in his eyes. “The order to destroy you once he has your precious amulets.”

  Her shock showed before she could hide it. The truth. She could always tell when someone was lying.

  He smiled. Satisfied he’d hit a nerve.

  “Why?” She couldn’t help responding this time. Her instincts were wrong. He had to be lying. “Why on earth would anyone want to kill me? Especially if this Council, or whatever they are, get the amulets?”

  He shook his head as if he pitied her for her stupidity. “You really don’t know what you are, do you?”

  Her chin shot up. “I’m a witch.” She had no doubts left about that, at least.

  “You’re a hybrid,” he spat.

  The way he said it, made Avy feel like she was a bug. Something he would scrape off his shoe. More like something he would crush under it. Without thought. Or remorse.

  Fear roared in her ears and vibrated through her body. She locked her knees to make sure she stayed upright.

  Breathe. Think. A hybrid. It’s important information. Why? It had something to do with him grabbing her. Her confusion must have shown.

  “Two Council families have never mated. Council is afraid you have the combined power of both families in your blood. You may have more magic than any of them. That makes you a threat, my dear.” The endearment sounded fake coming from this warlock and she knew he was taunting her.

  “But I did
n’t even know I was magic. I haven’t done anything to hurt any of you.”

  “You don’t have to do anything, as long as Council believes you could.”

  A powerful Council wanted to kill her. Her muscles knotted with terror. She stared back at Ferran’s pudgy face, friendly smile framing his evil black eyes. This can’t be happening. Evil warlocks and talking dogs. This has to be a nightmare.

  She gasped in air as if drowning. It was cool and scented with the trees and the earth. The mountain around her was as familiar as her own backyard. Yet this is real, I am awake, and this monster is telling me the truth. Marcus has been sent to kill me.

  Her heart hurt with a pain much deeper than any of her physical injuries. This was the secret Marcus had hidden from her. Which meant he planned to carry it out.

  Apparently, her pain showed and it was the response her tormentor had been waiting for. He nodded his satisfaction and resumed their walk up the trail. Every part of her hurt. Her head, her legs, her heart. Her vision kept fading at the edges and she wanted to throw up.

  She sucked in a deep breath of crisp cold air and focused on putting one foot in front of the other as they stepped over exposed roots along the mountain path. She would get out of this. To kill Marcus if for no other reason. He thought her last storm was bad. She’d hit him with a twister so strong it would tear his sorry ass apart.

  They were approaching a clearing when she heard the rustle in the woods, an instant before the black streak burst out of the bushes and leapt at her captor.

  “Busby,” she screamed.

  The dog grabbed the amulet in his mouth as he collided with Ferran’s chest sending them both careening into the shrubs on the opposite side of the trail. With inhuman strength, and magic cracking all around him, the warlock threw Busby away from him into a boulder sticking up out of the packed earth. The familiar bounced off with a yelp and sailed into the trees beyond and out of sight. Ferran jumped to his feet and threw a fireball down after him. A pained howl echoed into the valley below and then there was silence. Ferran flexed his fingers as if preparing to throw more fire.

  “No,” she cried. “Please don’t hurt him.” Avy ran to stop the warlock and held his arm with all her strength.

  “Too late,” he said, shaking her off. “He’s got my amulet. I will get it back.”

  A sob broke from Avy. “He’s just my dog. He was trying to protect me.” She turned away from him and screamed out into the trees, “Run, Busby.” She couldn’t stand to lose him. Tears leaked down her cheeks and she didn’t wipe them away. She thought she heard a sound. If she called again, she was afraid he’d come to her instead. Ferran would kill him. She didn’t call. Just sent out a wish that he’d make it back to safety.

  With a sudden rush of air, Marcus seemed to appear from nowhere on the trail in front of her. Her heart leapt into her throat. A tangled blend of hope and fear. Was he here to help Ferran kill her? Or help her get away? She just couldn’t untangle reality from the insanity. Maybe she was losing her mind.

  Without even glancing her way, Marcus swung his arms up and sent Ferran sailing backwards into the trees. Back on his feet in an instant, Ferran responded with a quick succession of fireballs. Without touching them, Marcus yanked boulders from the side of mountain and sent them barreling into the other warlock. When the boulders and fireballs collided, they exploded into a shower of sparks and dust.

  Magic shimmered in the air like heat off asphalt in the desert. Avy knew she should run but she was rooted in place. The mountain rumbled under her feet reminding her of what her parents’ magic had done. She glanced up afraid she’d see a rockslide crashing towards them. She couldn’t see a fissure—yet. She swung her eyes back to the men—warlocks—locked in battle. She had to stop them before they brought the whole mountain down.

  A flash of fire flew past her head and knocked her to the ground with its backlash. She sat up and immediately looked for Marcus. The fire bolt had hit its target and thrown him into a tree. It rocked briefly before the trunk split down the middle sending it crashing onto the ground as if it had been struck by lightning. Her heart lurched until she saw he was already jumping back to his feet. He immediately sought her out. Their eyes locked. His were golden orbs, glowing and swirling like exploding stars. She could feel his pulse as if it were her own. His magic called to hers. Her magic answered him.

  Energy stirred in her center, crawled through her bones and pushed out of every pore in her skin. She could smell the air as if there’d been a spring rain. It was fresh, clean and she no longer saw the dust that had threatened to choke her moments before. She was suddenly back on her feet but didn’t remember getting up. She could feel the tips of her hair lashing her cheeks as the wind howled around her. She wasn’t afraid anymore. Her parents were with her—without glancing down, she knew the fused wedding rings on her finger were glowing.

  The mountain trembled under her feet. Avy balled up her hand and was reassured by the bite of the heavy ring. She closed her eyes and imagined the gryphon coming to life. Its courage and strength enveloping her wrist and forearm, winding a path upward to her shoulder, continuing to wrap her in its protection. She looked around and found Ferran staring, not at Marcus, but at an approaching thunderous black storm cloud spanning the entire horizon. He turned back to look at her, surprise and fear spreading across his features.

  A streak of fire, sharp as a laser beam, flashed straight towards her but bounced off as if hitting an invisible shield. Ferran shouted at her but she couldn’t hear him over the roar of the wind. She felt movement to her left, like the tug of a thread strung between them, and knew Marcus had reached his hand towards her. She hesitated for a moment, but trusted her magic. Her hand extended towards his. A ribbon of light snaked across the space between them. It formed a strong, unbreakable bond, sizzling like a live wire. Magic didn’t lie. No matter what Council had ordered him to do, Marcus wouldn’t hurt her. Her magic knew, and she should have too.

  In the distance, the thick, roiling clouds crawled over the crest of the mountain. Driving sheets of rain pummeled the valley below them. The sky blackened and lightening flashed from every cloud at once. Then words floated into her mind as if from the air itself. And harm to none. Ferran was so powerful. And so crazy. He posed a greater risk than a rockslide and she had to stop him. But she had to be careful. She must not hurt the town. She held her breath for a second, and released it slowly.

  With the storm’s unrelenting advance, Avy felt the pressure building inside her until she thought her body would explode. Her heart pounded against her ribs trying to escape. Dreamlike, she could hear the crash of trees as they were ripped from the ground by the force of her tempest. The clouds were now crashing together, throwing off sparks of lightening in every direction with each simultaneous clap of thunder.

  Struggling to control the power that was writhing inside her, she felt for Marcus with her mind. Her eyes could no longer see him. His aura was blinding. It was like looking directly into the sun’s fire but it had so many variations of color woven within it, she really didn’t have a name for it. She felt his signal.

  She focused on Ferran. His aura was blood red, but turning black as it reached outward from his body. She raised her arms in the air to ease the band closing around her lungs. Each breath she took was shorter than the last. Muscles quivered, bones vibrated, she felt like she was going to break apart. She couldn’t hesitate, even though Marcus and his mysterious Witches Council had been right. All this combined magical power was dangerous. Especially in her hands.

  Ferran chose that moment to shoot a bolt of blue fire at her from his outstretched hands. In a blur of movement, Marcus stood between her and Ferran. It wrapped itself around him like a snake and tightened. Marcus’s aura dimmed and their magical bond strained, then snapped apart. Without his connection, her confidence wavered. Her tenuous control slipped and her magic took on a life of its own.

  The wind screeched around them like a vengeful banshee, t
hrowing brush, dirt and rocks into the air and swirled them into a funnel. She embraced the energy throbbing inside as though merging with the storm she’d created. She didn’t know how to stop her magic from overtaking her. She took one last look at Marcus, just in time to see his magic surge like a solar flare to break his bond into hundreds of individual fire tongues. No matter what happened to her, she had to stop this. He must have felt her fear because he turned and sought her out at the same moment. She reached deep within to find the two magical parts of herself, poised like caged animals waiting to be released. The gifts from her parents. She embraced both forces. Then, with every fiber of her being, she launched them at her target.

  At the same time, she saw Marcus swing his arms up and out from his sides. The forest floor came alive under their feet. Nausea bubbled into Avy’s mouth as she feared a slide was about to be unleashed. But the wave of mud and rocks surged upward. Towards her swirling wind funnel. Wind, rain and rock collided, then merged. Continuing to whip around like a whirling beast, it engulfed Ferran, sucking him into its snarling mouth. His scream followed him into the eye of the twister. Rocks meshed with body until it was impossible to tell where one started and the other ended. Finally, the funnel collapsed in on itself with the clang of a prison door slamming shut. It formed an enormous boulder that crashed back to the ground. Ferran’s screams continued to echo from deep within the rock prison.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In the aftermath of her storm, there was not a sound anywhere around them. A dead calm. Avy felt herself sway with the gentle breeze that now flowed around her, stroking her hair, her back, as her mother had done when she was a little girl.

  She inhaled a breath of spring-scented air and felt at peace. She heard shuffling to her right and twisted ready to —