Annie's Song (9 page)

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Authors: Cate Dean

BOOK: Annie's Song
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Several holes marred the ground, a couple so deep he could see the buried edge of the stone. “You already tried to find it.”

“You are not one of those weepy eyed purists? I did what I had to—”

“Filling in the holes would have been nice.” Zach walked right past her efforts, drawn to what he knew was the heel stone. Here. The power licking at him, hot and hungry, was here. “Your box is buried here. Now I want the counter—”

“Once the box is in my hand.” She pushed back the cloak, set her oversized bag on the ground and dropped to her knees, chubby hands tearing at the long grass, exposing the dark, rich dirt underneath. “It will go faster if you help me, boy.”

“Zach.” He lowered himself to the ground, his side burning, wanting to be done with this, with her, ASAP. The low hum of fear for his mom kept getting louder, harder for him to push away. He needed to get this done, get the counter spell, stop the damage. “Let me.”

His long fingers shoveled through the soft dirt—and hit up against icy, engraved metal. Every inch recoiled from just the touch of it. Taking in a shaky breath, he pushed through the rain soft dirt until his fingers closed around the box, and pulled.

It jerked free, trailing dirt after it. Zach dropped the box and lurched to his feet, backing away from it with a sense of panic he couldn’t define. The thing was surprisingly small—but it radiated menace like he’d never felt before. He flinched when Diana picked it up, and he clapped one hand over his mouth to stop the scream clawing up his throat when she pressed her cheek to it.

“At last,” she whispered, caressing the dirt encrusted sides. “I never thought to find you. But here you are, living, breathing, in my grasp.”

“I want the counter spell.” Zach’s voice shook over the words. He didn’t care; they made a deal, and it was time for her to live up to her part of it. “I found it. Now give me the spell.”

“There is time yet, boy.”

“She’s dying!” He felt it, the pulsing inside his amethyst weaker with every minute that passed. He looked over at her, and swore her face was paler, her breath more shallow. “I can’t do anything more for you.”

“Ah, but you can.” She grabbed his wrist before he had the chance to react. Contact drove him to his knees, an alien voice screaming in his head. “I thought as much. You have some kind of connection to it. You will help me release it, boy. Then our bargain will be complete.” Horrified, Zach could only kneel on the grass and shake. Most likely, they’d both be dead. “Get up, now. I have already prepared the space.”

She pulled him to his feet, the box lending her strength Zach knew she hadn’t possessed before he dug up that abomination. Still gripping his wrist, so tight it would leave bruises, she slung her bag over her shoulder and dragged him across the field, away from Mom. Straight to the castle. The haunted, ruined castle he had at the top of his list to explore.

He never expected to be releasing God only knew what inside its walls.

 

TWELVE

 

T
he burning in Claire’s shoulder jolted her awake.

She opened her eyes, her mind blank. One look at her surroundings had everything snapping into place.

“Zach—” Fire burst through her shoulder when she tried to move. “God above . . .”

With a moan, she lowered herself to the ground. Zach was gone, taken only heaven knew where by that madwoman. She had to get back to Marcus, to Annie, had to get their help to find him—

Fresh, ugly pain burned into her, deeper, hotter. She let out a raw cry, clutching at the ground. Sweat slid across her skin, back into her hair. Icy wind had her shivering, and the pain retaliated, burning a hole through her.

A different kind of heat warmed her throat. Swallowing, she inched her hand up, closed shaking fingers over the amethyst heart. The heart Zach gave her.

“Please—let him be safe. Please.” She prayed to a God she wasn’t certain would listen to her, even with a newly minted soul.

Something blue and crumpled caught her attention, buffeted by the wind. She inched her hand across the grass, touched it. Zach’s energy hummed through her fingers. Pulling it closer, she finally recognized it. Zach’s baseball cap. Blood stained the blue cotton.

Not him—you can’t have him.

She tucked it into her side, inched her hand down until it reached the pocket of her jacket, and found the familiar lump of her phone.

Her fingers kept sliding over the slick touch screen, and it took three tries before she managed to hit the right speed dial number. Annie’s voice had her closing her eyes in relief.

“Hey, Claire—did you find him? Claire?”

“Annie,” she whispered. And could all but see the panic she knew would be on her friend’s face.

“God—where are you?”

“Standing stones. Zach,” she forced what strength she had into her voice. “She took Zach.”

“We’ll get him, honey. You hang on. Do you hear me, Claire? We’re on our way.”

Annie’s voice kept cutting out, and Claire figured she was running.

The phone slipped out of her fingers, landing next to her on the grass. Slowly, she slipped back into pain-edged darkness, gripping Zach’s cap. Annie’s voice followed after her, more frantic with every moment.

“Claire—don’t you give up on me. Damn it, Marcus, she’s not answering.”

I’m here, Annie.

The sand rough voice that drifted up from the phone squeezed her heart. “We are on the way, Claire. Keep breathing.”

A smile tugged at her lips—and incredible pain threatened to engulf her.

Claire clutched the grass with her good hand, willed away the darkness. She had survived Hell.

She could survive this.

 

*

 

A
nnie sprinted out of the alley next to the hotel, Marcus beside her, his face white under the wild black curls. The wind smacked them, fierce and cold, as they tore across the open field.

Terror dogged every step. She willed herself to move faster, shoving back the horrifying thought that Claire would be dead when they got to her.

No—she’s strong. Hell strong. She has to be alive—

“She will be, Annie.” Marcus answered her thought. That normally brought on the anger. Now she was grateful he could sense her thoughts, since she didn’t think she could say what she was trying not to think. “Even if I have to drag her back from her Hell.”

They shot between two of the standing stones, found Claire on the other side of the circle. Marcus dropped down, hair blowing around his face, reaching for her wrist before his knees even hit grass. He pulled something out of her hand, tossed it next to him. Annie lowered herself to Claire’s other side, and saw the blood.

“Oh, sweet Jesus . . .” Both hands covered her mouth as she looked at Marcus. After an endless second he nodded. She felt her heart start back up.

“She’s lost too much blood. And there is—something not right with the wound. We must get her back.”

“Marcus.”

If they hadn’t been on top of her, Annie knew they wouldn’t have heard Claire’s whisper.

Marcus cradled her cheek, so gentle Annie’s throat ached. “I am here, sweet.” He brushed damp hair off her forehead, her face so pale the red-laced brown looked almost black against her skin. “Save your strength, now, I am taking you back to—”

“Zach . . . Diana has Zach.”

Dread shot through her. There was some serious ugly hovering around that woman. “We’ll get him back. I promise you, Claire.”

Opening her eyes, Claire inched one hand across the grass, touched Annie’s fingers. She swallowed, took in a shallow breath. “Box—Zach found a . . . box. Gone.”

“Stop,” Marcus said. The anguish in his eyes tore at her. “Annie will find him. No—you need to trust, Claire.” He looked at Annie, determination pushing out the anguish. “Let’s get her out of here.”

He gathered Claire up in his arms and stood, moving as fast as he could without jarring her. Annie saw what he threw aside, and recognized it. Panic squeezed her heart. Pushing hair out of her face, she picked up the baseball cap, saw the blood on it.

“Not him. God, not him—not now.”

Annie stuffed the cap in her jacket pocket and caught up with Marcus, terrified at the amount of blood still leaking out of the wound in Claire’s shoulder.

“I need you to collect some things for me,” Marcus said, ignoring the stares as they came around the side of the hotel. He carried Claire through the hotel lobby, spit out a short list, stopping only long enough for the elevator to open. “The shop you told me of should have all I need.” He stepped into the elevator and punched the button. “Move fast, Annie.” The same fear that kept clawing at her left his voice ragged. “Whatever injured her left a mark of power. Ugly power.” Marcus lowered his head, whispering to Claire as the doors closed.

Annie ran, out of the hotel and down the high street, praying that Penn or Michelle would be there. Taking a big chance, she charged the front door. If it was locked she’d go right through the glass.

It flew open, startling a young couple dressed like they just came from a Ren faire. “Penn!” Annie moved into the store. “Michelle!” Her voice echoed off the plaster walls, the low, beamed ceiling, sounding as panicked as she felt. Both women came on the run. Michelle got to her first, reaching for the blood she knew streaked her green wool jacket. “It’s not mine. I need some things. Fast.”

“Tell me.”

They both gathered what Marcus asked for, not wasting time with questions. For that, Annie would be eternally grateful.

“Call us for anything.” Michelle walked her to the door, Penn on her other side, protecting her from the customers who began to stare, to move toward them. “Who’s blood is it, Annie?”

“Claire. Diana did this. Don’t go after her—she’s got Zach, and she’ll hurt him.”

“How did she cause such damage?” Penn looked furious. “She doesn’t have enough power to fill a teaspoon. I won’t do anything, Annie. We’re both already attached to that boy.” She pulled the door open, followed Annie out. “You call me if you need backup, for anything.”

“Thanks.”

Annie took off, knowing she could count on Penn, on both of them. She never expected to feel that way about anyone beyond Claire. Crazy how just a few months turned her life upside down.

“Hang on, Claire—please, hang on.”

It became a mantra as she ran down the sidewalk, willing Claire to stay alive. The sapphires in her engagement ring burned against her finger, sparking an angry blue. Soon, she promised. As soon as she gave Marcus his supplies, she was going hunting.

 

*

 


I
need the counter spell, Annie.” Marcus leaned over Claire, hands on her wounded shoulder. “Without it, all I can do is keep her alive. And I am not certain how long I can do that.”

Panic shut down her brain. Claire couldn’t die—she was indestructible . . .

Not anymore. She was almost more human than Annie. And without her power, like the proverbial sitting duck—

“Diana.” She blurted out the name. Marcus looked at her. “Diana would have it. Are you sure—”

“There has to be a counter spell.” Anguish flared in his eyes. “Without it, I can do nothing.”

“Then I’m gone.” She stopped at the door, forcing down her own fear. “Keep her alive, Marcus.”

She ran down the stairs, not wanting to wait on the elevator, wracking her brain for a way to find Zach. Claire never saw him leave the standing stones, and God only knew where that crackpot took him. Annie could start there—and search that field for days, while Claire slipped away from them. There had to be something—

She fumbled for her phone when the answer slapped her.

Shaking fingers tapped out the number. Annie leaned against the side of the hotel, sliding down as the phone on the other end rang.

Please be there. Oh, God, please be there.

 

THIRTEEN

 

T
he phone startled Simon out of his thoughts. Thoughts of Claire, and how damn much he missed having her in his life.

“St. Mary’s Church, this is Father Simon. How can I—”

“Simon? Oh, thank God.”

“Annie.” He heard the panic edging her voice, almost felt it humming through the phone. “What is it?”

She told him. He clutched the edge of the desk, each word ripping across his soul. With an ocean between them, he was helpless, useless. But maybe—Annie had the power. If he could get her to understand what he did, she might just have a shot. “Do you have your ring with you?”

“My engagement ring? Yeah.”

“Claire told me once it’s your focus. You can use it, track Zach’s energy. He has a very specific signature. You shouldn’t have trouble finding it, once you know it.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

He smiled, enjoying the fact she didn’t apologize for swearing to a priest. She simply never thought of him that way. Another part of his life he missed; the chance to just be. “It will be on anything he touched. The closer it was to his body, and the longer it was there, the better. You may not see his energy—I’d be surprised if you did. But you’ll sense it. Use the focus, Annie. Use the power you’ve been honing these past months. You are a strong and talented witch.”

Silence roared across the line. After an endless minute, she cleared her throat. “Okay—who are you, and what did you do with Simon?”

He laughed, and it felt good. For the first time in months, he felt a weight lift off his heart. “I had my own epiphany, you might say. Claire came to see me, to invite me to your wedding.” Annie let out a distressed sound, and Simon wished he’d accepted, that he was there right now to help save the person who mattered most in his life. “Focus on this, Annie. I’m on my way, but you need to move now.”

“You’re coming?”

“I’ve spent too long fighting with my own heart. You are my friend, and Claire is the closest I’ve had to a partner in a long time. Can you get something of Zach’s while we’re talking?”

“Yeah—just give me a minute.” He heard rustling, and her voice fading as she obviously put the phone down, swearing. That was his Annie. God, how he’d missed this, missed them. “Okay. I have the baseball cap he was wearing when he got here.”

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