Veil of Shadows (44 page)

The thought of just being
done
had been such a . . . sweet relief. She’d yearned for it, ached for it. Longed for it. She’d gone to battle with a young woman who used her magic to steal life and power from others—Morgan Wakefield had practiced blood magic and it was addictive. Once a witch gave in to that lure, it became a hunger, a need. Fighting it was almost impossible, and Morgan hadn’t wanted to fight it. She’d craved the blood, craved the power.

The only way to keep that young woman from killing was to end her life—a sad, sorry fact, but one Nessa had been prepared to handle. She’d been prepared for all likely outcomes—including her own death.

She hadn’t been prepared to live. She certainly hadn’t been prepared to live like this.

Absently, she glanced at the ornamental mirror hanging over the sofa and studied her face.

Her face.

Morgan’s face.

No. She hadn’t been prepared for this. She’d fought the young, deceptive, bloodthirsty witch, and as she’d expected, her body hadn’t survived the battle. But somehow, her spirit had. She hadn’t planned for it, hadn’t done a damn thing to make this happen—at least not consciously. Nessa had wanted death, craved it. Craved it the way Morgan had craved blood. The way a drug addict craved his next fix. She’d needed it.

But instead of the sweet relief of death, she lived. In Morgan’s body.

For so long after it had happened, Nessa had been lost—trapped in a muddle of depression, despair, memories and madness. Even as she began to emerge from that fog, she’d hated it—she’d yearned for the sweet cloud where she’d lived.

Until Mei-Lin.

Mei-Lin changed things.

They had met just a few months ago, but already, this girl had settled inside Nessa’s heart, forged a place there. Given Nessa a reason to believe again. A reason to hope. A reason to live.

She looked at Mei-Lin and saw the echo of her own youth. Kindred spirits, she supposed. That was why she’d felt so drawn to the girl, why she’d taken Mei-Lin under her wing instead of shipping her off to Excelsior.

Almost a year earlier, Mei-Lin’s mother had died and the girl had ended up in foster care, only to run away after one of the other foster kids had tried to molest her.

The night they met, Nessa had been walking through the dark streets, looking for a fight, a drink, both . . . anything to occupy her mind.

What she found was Mei-Lin. Or rather, Mei-Lin found her. The girl had quick hands—she might not have even noticed the theft if the girl hadn’t unconsciously used her magic as well.

Untrained witches—they were a danger to themselves. Nessa had planned to dump the girl back at Excelsior. She needed training, that was for certain, and she also needed to finish high school. She could do both at Excelsior. Kelsey and the other Hunters would see to it that Mei-Lin was trained and care for.

But in the end, it was Nessa who took the girl in. It hadn’t taken but a few hours to realize she needed the girl as much as the girl needed her. Perhaps more.

The two of them, they were both lost, lonely souls.

Meeting the girl had pulled Nessa back from the brink—she’d reminded Nessa of who she was.

She’d reminded Nessa of
what
she was.

She might be a lonely witch still pining over her lost lover, but she was also a fighter.

Nessa was a Hunter—a warrior, a witch. She’d devoted her life to protecting the innocent from the monsters in the world. She’d never given up in her whole damned life.

Mei-Lin helped her remember that about herself.

She owed the girl.

More, she loved her.

Leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room, she tucked her hair behind one ear and watched as the teen finished watching the movie. As the credits started to roll, Mei-Lin patted her heart and said, “If you’re still wanting to find me another birthday present, I want
that.
Gimme a man like
that
.”

“I looked but they’d already sold out at the mall.” Nessa rolled her eyes. “Darling, you are seventeen. You have plenty of time to find a man.”

“They do still make them like that, right?” She wrinkled her nose and said, “I want a
real
man, not one who spends more time messing with his hair than I do. I don’t want some dumb boy, either. Real men still exist, right?”

Nessa grinned and thought of some of the men she knew. Chortling, she tried to picture Malachi messing with his hair. The vampire had seen millennia come and go and while he was a vain bastard, he wasn’t one to primp.

Images of other men, other friends—Hunters she’d worked with over the years—flashed through her mind. Would they stand in front of a mirror and primp? Tobias, Declan, Vax . . . no. Not a one of them.

Eli, perhaps, but he had always been a peacock.

She had a quick flash of her dream lover. That thick, silken hair, tousled by her hands. He wouldn’t spend his time studying his reflection, either, she knew.

Of course, he wouldn’t . . . he isn’t real.
He was just her dream lover, a man her imagination created to help with the emptiness inside her, to help while away long, lonely nights.

She shoved off the counter and went to turn off the television. “Yes, Mei-Lin. I promise, there are plenty of men who are less than enamored with their pretty reflections.”

Outside, Nessa heard footsteps and she tugged on one of Mei-Lin’s braids. “Your friends are here.”

“
How
can you hear them?” she asked, cocking her head. She squinted her eyes as though it might help her hear better.

“Practice.” Nessa shrugged a shoulder. “You’ll get there.”

The doorbell rang and Mei-Lin moved to answer it. As a gaggle of giggling girls entered the small house, Nessa tidied up the living room. Living with a teenage girl, she was constantly picking up, straightening up, doing laundry.

She didn’t mind, oddly enough.

Other than Mei-Lin’s training, this was the closest to
normal
Nessa had ever known.

Mei-Lin reappeared in the door, surrounded by her friends.

“Hi, Ms. Chandler!”

Nessa managed not to make a face.
Ms. Chandler
was only one of the many names she’d used during her life—she’d much rather be called Agnes or Nessa than anything
Ms
. That made her feel as old as she truly was. Ancient.

Giving them a smile, she said, “How are you this evening, Kim?”

“Oh, you know.” She rolled eyes heavily made-up with black liner and said, “I’m sort of on probation. Brought home a
C
on my final, and Mom said if it happened again, I’d lose the car until I brought home something better.”

“You could have a better grade if you wanted.” Nessa knew the line she should use and she used it. Mei-Lin’s friends, the teachers, all the people they knew thought Nessa was Mei-Lin’s stepsister. They even had legal papers to document it. “Your mother just wants you to do your best.”

“I know.” Kim sighed and shrugged. “Chemistry is just so
boring
. I can’t wait until I’m done with school and don’t have to worry about that sh . . . uh, crap, anymore.”

Dryly, Nessa said, “Paying bills is quite boring as well. You’ll have to do things you don’t enjoy the rest of your life. The good comes with the bad.” She gave Mei-Lin a bright smile and said, “Speaking of which . . .”

She dumped the armful of shoes, books, an iPod and socks into Mei-Lin’s arms. “Before you go out, please put these away.”

Mei-Lin rolled her eyes and obediently trucked up the stairs.

One of the newer girls asked Nessa about her accent, and another started rambling on about how
sssexxxy
accents were. Kim enviously told the others how Nessa had taken Mei-Lin to France for spring break.

The new girl—Ashlyn—rolled her eyes and said, “Man, Mei. You’ve got the coolest mom. Mine would never let me go that far away without her.”

Mei-Lin appeared on the stairs and pain flashed across her face. Nessa gave her a gentle smile and whispered mind-to-mind, “
Are you okay
?”

Mei-Lin gave her a tight smile.

An awkward silence fell and one of the girls leaned over and in a loud whisper said, “Way to go, Ashlyn. Mei’s mom died last year. Ms. Chandler is Mei’s stepsister.”

Ashlyn went white. Nessa patted the girl on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Ashlyn. You didn’t know, now did you?” Then she gave her a smile and said, “I imagine your mom is quite the protective one. I’m sure you find it quite irritating, but she loves you. Enjoy it . . . enjoy her, because you never know how long you’ll have her.”

Ashlyn gave Mei-Lin a slightly sick smile. “I’m sorry, Mei. I didn’t . . .”

“It’s cool,” Mei-Lin said, shaking her head.

Changing the subject, Nessa looked at Kim and said, “So, what plans do you girls have tonight?”

Mei-Lin gave Nessa an exasperated look while Kim smiled. In a singsongy voice, she replied, “We’re going to get some dinner at Applebee’s; then we’re going to a movie. The movie is at the multiplex and it starts at nine fifteen. It should be over by eleven thirty. I have to drop the other girls off first, but we’ll be here by midnight and I’m spending the night. And yes, Ms. Chandler, my mother will be calling at midnight, so I hope you’re awake.”

“Cheeky girl,” Nessa murmured. She looked at Mei-Lin. “You have your phone?”

A few minutes later, Nessa shut the door behind them. Alone in the house, she rested her head back against the door and sighed. Alone . . . and it was too quiet.

When silence came, the voice was louder.

The voice . . . Morgan’s voice. Yes, she had Morgan’s body, and she also had Morgan’s . . . ghost, for lack of a better word.

“
This is just too cute for words, you old hag. Look at you, playing house
.”

It was a taunting, angry jibe, but Nessa pretended to ignore it. Once she had noise, once she had something to occupy her hands, the voice of the dead woman would fade.

For a time.

How much longer, she wondered. How much longer would Morgan linger?

Even now, months, years later, the girl haunted her.

Morgan. Damn her. She’d ruined everything she touched. She brought death and destruction, blood and chaos. Even in death, she’d managed to ruin things. If the woman’s body had just
died
, then Nessa could have died as well.

“
Is this the reason you stole my body, so you could play Holly Homemaker
?”

Nessa shoved away from the door and reached out. With the slightest flex of her magic, she turned on some music.
Loud
. But Morgan wasn’t going to go quiet
that
easily.

“
This is a fucking waste. Why did you take my body if this is all you’re going to do? Shit, can’t you even go out, find a guy, get drunk, get fucked? Something—anything—would be better than watching you play mama witch to that little idiot
.”

Nessa smirked. “Not while I’ve got a dead witch whining in the back of my head.”

“
I don’t see why not. It’s my body
.”

“Actually, no, it’s not. If it was
your
body, you’d be able to take it back. But you can’t.” She knew what the girl was about—Morgan wanted to make Nessa feel guilty, wanted to exploit any and every little weakness.

“It damn well
is
my body,”
Morgan snarled, her mental voice an angry, ugly growl. “Your
body died. That old bag of bones is gone. Hypocritical bitch. How in the hell can you condemn me for taking blood when you took my damn body?”

Narrowing her eyes, Nessa turned to the mirror and stared at her reflection. She saw her face—the face that had once belonged to Morgan. “You didn’t just take
blood
, child. You took
lives
. You ended
lives
. When I came upon you, you stank of death. How many have you killed? Can you even remember?”

“We could write your death off that way if you like.” Malicious cow—she knew just what words to use, when to use them. Guilt tried to settle inside Nessa but she cast it off. “And here’s another way of the world. You can call it karma. I prefer ‘you shall reap what you sow.’ You killed. Blindly, indiscriminately, and you enjoyed it. You would have sucked my body dry of magic, sucked me dry of life, and then moved on to your next victim and your next. But you couldn’t beat me. I didn’t
take
your body. Trust me, precious, I didn’t
want
your body. I didn’t want this
life
. I didn’t take it—it was pushed on me. You don’t like it and I understand that. I don’t like it, either. But we’re both stuck with it.”

“No.” Nessa shook her head. “You won’t. You’re just a ghost, Morgan, clinging to life. You need to let go and move on. It’s not like there’s much of anything keeping you here now, is there?”

“
There’s plenty keeping me here. My body, for one.”

Nessa stared at her reflection, knowing the ghost in the back of her mind would see the insolent smile on her face. That was where Morgan existed now—that was the
only
place Morgan existed—within Nessa’s mind.

“It’s not
your
body. You went and got greedy, precious. Tried to take things that didn’t belong to you. This is rather karmic, don’t you think? You took power, you took blood . . . and your body was taken from you. It’s mine now.”

Nessa sighed. “No, I didn’t steal it.”

After all,
stealing
another’s body would imply that Nessa wanted to live. She’d wanted anything but. She’d gone into that battle with her eyes wide open,
knowing
that after more than five hundred years, she could finally rest. She would die, and on the other side, she’d find Elias. Finally.