The Goddess Redemption #2 - Spellbound (a Paranormal Romance) (3 page)

“We need to figure out what we are going to do. We have no more barrier potion and there isn’t enough
wolfsbane to make it, in any case,” Sara said and she wished that Meg had been able to coax Julip back into her stall. But she knew that even with the mare at full speed, they couldn’t get far enough away from the danger. Only one thing was certain, the wolves
were
coming.

****

“Is it true, it is her?” the alpha asked and Kiru had his head down out of respect.

“Yes, it is her. I came back to tell you as soon as we knew for certain. Eduard should have returned with her by now, my alpha. I fear the worst.” Kiru told the leader of the pack. At night
, the pack was pure beast, but by the light of day, the creatures wore the skin of men. The alpha was the largest man Kiru had ever seen. His strength was double that of the strongest wolf and his voice was impossible to resist. All commands followed to the letter. For Eduard to have not returned there would be only one reason.

             
“He is lost. I felt it.” The alpha always knew when a member of the pack was dead. “We need not concern ourselves, however his death poses us reason to pause. I had heard the hunter was moving again. I put scouts out, but somehow he has made it through. I will deal with them later. But you are certain, it is her?” the alpha asked again and Kiru nodded his head. “Good, tonight you and all your brothers and sisters will attack. Bring me the blonde witch, Kiru.” Kiru was the first turned, the first given the huntress’ kiss. The alpha had honored him with being the first in the pack. He would bring the girl to him, without question, and forego the slaying of the goddess.

****

              Alin was one of the first to be created by the huntress. Somehow, he had managed to survive, by resisting the urge to form a pack and traveling alone by day instead of night. He had learned early on that he had been created for one purpose and one purpose only,
to run
. And that was what he had done for a very, very long time. But, no more would he run.
Here, I will make my stand. And perhaps, no werebeast will ever have the need to run again.
However, at that moment, he had other matters that needed his attention. The den was large and the entire pack was in attendance.

             
“Come,” he said. His pack had failed him and failure was not taken lightly. It would hurt their numbers, but the scouts must pay for their incompetence. The presence of the hunter complicated things, but it also presented him with a golden opportunity. The hunt was about to take a turn and he fought off the excitement growing inside him as the scouts came forward, their heads bowed.

As an original creation of the goddess, Alin was not beholden to the moon, like the rest of his pack
, although he had been, at first. When the goddess lost her power, her control over the first creation was lost. It was the first time he had felt freedom. He could transition at any time, or not at all. It was his choice. His pack was not so fortunate and he looked at the naked bodies all around the den.

             
He controlled the change as it crawled up his legs, slowly demonstrating his power in front of the pack. He was growling before his teeth sharpened into fangs. The moment he was completely changed, he lunged, ripping the throat from one scout and then the other, before stepping back. As he moved away, he became a man, with the taste of wolf blood on his tongue.

Sara was not about to go down without a fight. The moment she walked through the cabin door, she made her way to her grandmother’s room. The journal lay on the bedside table. Sara had never opened it; the pain in the memories it brought was almost too much to bear. A lump formed in her throat as emotion rose, but it only made her feel sick to the stomach when she tried to swallow past it. She snatched the journal and retreated from the room, locking the door behind her.

“There has to be something in here that will help.” Sara took the journal to the mixing table and opened it. The spells were written in the labored scrawl of her grandmother and as she touched the pages
, a tear slid down her cheek, falling on the yellowing paper. Sara watched the tear stain grow and wrinkle the page, soaking into the book. She wiped her eyes.
Now is not the time to have a breakdown
, she reminded herself. She heard the cabin door open and looked back. Victor had the door swung wide, holding it open for Meg.

The hunter had been
fawning all over her sister since they had met. Meg was gorgeous, blonde of hair and blue eyed, slender and graceful. She had every man in the village wrapped around her little finger. Sara was the exact opposite. She was pretty enough, some would even consider her beautiful, but once Meg entered the room, attention had always shifted. Sara was used to it, but for some reason it really bothered her that Meg also had Victor’s full attention.
I am jealous
. The thought hit her suddenly like a punch in the stomach.

Sara had always felt an overwhelming need to protect her sister, especially when their grandmother had passed, but this jealousy was something new and foreign to her. She hazarded a long hard look at Victor. The tall dark haired man with the deep brown eyes had a charm about
him. Whenever he smiled, and he smiled a lot, his face would light up as though he knew a secret, a funny little secret that only
he
knew. Another vision invaded her mind when he turned his smile on her.

They were together.
It was snowing and she watched the flakes hit his soft brown waves of hair and melt, leaving it damp. It was cold, frigid even, but she couldn’t feel it. All she could feel was happiness and love. Yet there was something more. Excitement seemed to seep into every nerve ending as they moved silently across the frozen ground. The hunter stopped and squatted to inspect the ground. The paw print was barely visible and the snow would soon fill it in completely, as if it had never been there. The next mark in the snow was the bare foot print of a man. The creature was smart and alone. They had been tracking it for weeks.

“
Huntress, you have outdone yourself with this one.” She watched her lover rise, summoning his bow. Instantly, she felt her own bow squeezed tightly in her hand. In the other was an arrow, silver tipped and full of power. The hairs on the back of her neck raised in warning. The one they hunted had led them right into a pack.

She watched the yellow eyes appear as the last light faded.
They were surrounded, but she wasn’t afraid. She felt alive.

“
Sara? Sara!” she heard a voice call out the strange name and the vision left, clearing like early morning fog in sunlight. Her head felt light and she gripped the table to steady herself. She felt hands close around her shoulders and lead her away from the table.

“She hit her head and passed out
,” she heard the man say, and the sound was right, but the words were wrong.

“A goddess does not lose consciousness
,” she said and tried to move back to the table. The arms wrapped around her were stronger than the point she was trying to make and she found herself being lowered into a soft cushioned chair.
I’m not supposed to be here
, she thought, closing her eyes, trying to return to the hunt. But it was gone; the happiness, the love, the excitement, all of it, gone.

“Sara? Can you hear me?” she heard her sister ask, and a sudden pang of guilt hit her in the stomach. Meg was afraid, she could tell by the tremor in her voice.

“I’m fine, just hit my head, really,” Sara said and reached out to grab her sister’s arm to reassure her. Sara looked around for Victor, but he wasn’t there. “Where’s...” Sara started to ask.

“Fetching water from the well
,” Meg looked at her strangely before asking, “Sara, where did you go?” Sara wished she knew.

****

Victor lowered the bucket until he heard the familiar splash as it hit the water below. He hoisted the rope, coiling it around the shaft as he brought the full bucket up from the black pit. The water was clear as he poured it into the glass jug Meg had given him. He was glad to be outside. Inside was a fog of displaced memories and visions that threatened to consume him. Somehow, he was tied to that woman. He didn’t know how or why, but the bond didn’t seem any less real to him without the reasons and cause. What had happened exactly, he couldn’t say for sure. He had been with her, hunting the creatures. Yet there was more than that; it was how he had felt in the forest with her with the snow falling all around. He had felt complete. Whole.

As soon as the vision had ended, he had barely kept on his own two feet. Meg hadn’t even noticed the effect it had had on
him; she had been so caught up in worry over Sara.
The damn witch has cast a spell on me
, he thought angrily, but he wasn’t so sure he believed it. Still, he knew he wanted to talk with her, now more than ever.

When he brought the jug back
, Sara was trying to stand. The look on Meg’s face said she hadn’t been very successful so far, but he could see the determination in her eyes. He wondered if she knew they had shared the vision. The look she gave him was full of daggers as if somehow all of it was his fault.
Yes, she knows
.

Meg took the jar from him and left the room through the open doorway. As soon as she was gone, he took his opportunity.

“It was snowing
,” he said.

****

Sara listened to the man in front of her and took a long hard look at him. His face was strong and his neck was thick leading down to hard muscles that lined his upper shoulders. His shirt was a faded green, fitted well across his chest and abdomen and tucked into worn pants, cinched tight at his waistline. He was very handsome with soft wavy brown hair and even softer brown eyes. He was definitely the man in her visions. Somehow, he was in her head. How else would he know what she saw?
So, who is he?

“What have you done to me?” he asked
, as if somehow it was her fault.

“Me?” she couldn’t believe his nerve. “I have no part in this.”

“You’re a witch, aren’t you? It has to be some kind of spell,” he accused. She was growing more impatient by the minute.

“I don’t have time for your accusations and I certainly don’t need to waste what time I do have arguing with an insane werewolf hunter with a magical ar....” her voice dropped off, but her mind finished the word.

“It’s the arrow,” he said and she watched him retrieve it from behind the quiver at his back.
Ice
was pulsing bright with blue light in his hand when Meg returned with a glass of water and gave it to Sara. She sipped at it and set it down on the small table beside her; her eyes never leaving the arrow.

“Why is it doing that?” Meg asked,
sounding lost.

“I don’t know, maybe you should take it outside
,” Sara said to Victor. If it was causing the visions, she wanted it far away from her. He readily agreed. Sara turned her attention to Meg and took charge. “Gather everything you can from the storage shed and bring it here,” Sara told her sister.

“Everything?” Meg asked
, “Even the potions under the floorboards?”

“Especially those. Be careful with them, some of them are a bit unstable
,” Sara told her and Meg left with a promise to be careful.

When Victor came back in, he had a guilty look on his face.

“I guess it is my fault,” he said and looked out the window. “It usually only acts strangely like that when the beasts are near, I don’t know why it’s doing it now.” Sara could hear the honesty in his voice. He was just as much a victim as she was.

“Truthfully,” she said and paused, trying to put the words together, “I’ve been having visions lately, but none have been like that one. All the rest are flashes and odd thoughts and they come and go quickly. But this last one
was different. I was there. I felt the snow falling on me. I smelled the crispness in the air. I heard the growl of the wolves. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

“I’m not so sure that anything sounds crazy anymore
,” he said and she knew he was right. “I saw it, too, remember?” he asked as if she had forgotten.

“I think they’re memories
,” she said and was surprised when he nodded his head. He wasn’t telling her something.

She leveled a look at him,
“You are awfully quick to agree, do you know something I don’t?”

“This isn’t the first one I’ve had either
,” he admitted, but that was all they could discuss as Meg returned, her arms laden with jars and vials. The colors were so bright and vivid that she looked as if she carried a rainbow. She seemed so excited that she nearly dropped the items as she was setting them on the table.

“I found some
wolfsbane, Sara!” Meg told her, beaming. “It had fallen behind the drying rack. If I hadn’t been down there popping up the floorboards, I wouldn’t have seen it. But it looks like it will be enough. I’m going back for it now,” she said and nearly ran out the door.

Sara moved to the window and looked outside. It was midafternoon
. It would be close, but she thought she could get the potion done in time. Everything else was forgotten as she set about her work.

She already had the beaker boiling when Meg brought the
wolfsbane and she had a moment of genius. The only two things she knew that had any sort of effect on the shifters were wolfsbane and silver. Was silver the catalyst for the cure? It had to be. She had tried everything else. She looked at the dried wolfsbane lying on the table. It would take all of it to make it, she knew. She couldn’t risk it. A cure for the infected would do them no good if the beasts ripped them to shreds before they could use it.

No
, she told herself firmly,
I’ll make the barrier potion and worry about the cure later
.

****

Victor had not planned on having a domestic role, but chopping wood for the fire gave him time to think. And it wasn’t as if he was about to leave without some answers. Who was this woman? And why was he having these memories? His mind was spinning, but there was something about swinging an axe for a few hours that was soothing. Swing, whoosh, thunk. It was methodical and his mind eventually eased into reason.

The arrow was the key. Of that, he was sure. He had known it was magical from the first time he saw it. He had never questioned it. Why? Any normal man would have attempted to get rid of the thing, but not him.
And why hunt these creatures? Why risk his life for strangers? Perhaps he
was
mad.

Swing, whoosh, thunk. Still though, he couldn’t have taken a step away from the place
, his feet would refuse. He was in denial, he knew. It wasn’t his feet holding him there. If he was honest, it was his heart that wouldn’t cooperate. From the moment he had laid eyes on her, he had been filled with joy. It sounded insane to admit, but he had never really been happy until that day.

Swing, whoosh, thunk. He was drawn to her. And he had caught her looking out the window a few times. She was drawn to him, also. It was almost as if he was trying to recall something he
had done after consuming too much wine. The wood split and he sunk the axe into the large log below and left it there. Grabbed the split pieces and started stacking them.

“You’re very good at that
,” Meg said from behind him and he nearly jumped. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard her footfalls. He turned and smiled at her. She was lovely. It was hard not to appreciate such beauty. But, she was also kind. She handed him a cup of water. His shirt was soaking with sweat.

“Thank you.” He set the cup down on the log beside the axe and pulled his shirt over his head
then hung it on the axe handle. It was unseasonably warm down in the valley and the hard work was heating him too.

“It would take me all day to chop that much wood.” Victor didn’t doubt it; Meg looked as if she had never held an axe. Victor could tell by the look in her eyes that she had other reasons for starting
the conversation, so he picked up the glass of water and sat down on the ground for a rest. He wouldn’t learn what it was, though. Their attention was shifted by the calls of a woman, shuffling down the path. In her arms was a small girl no more than four or five years old.

“Oh no
,” was all he heard Meg say as she ran towards them.

“It was just a scratch!” the woman wailed
, as Meg took the child from her and rushed inside the cabin. From the torment in the woman’s voice, Victor could tell the child was her own. He had seen it all before, with men. Anger filled him that the beasts would attack a child. He followed the women inside.