whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick (27 page)

Are you asking if he will survive?

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

That will depend on him.

“Can’t you tell? Can’t you see?”

The animal spirits still haven’t decided which animal to pair him with and he has not yet chosen.

“So he could become a butterfly.”

The cat spirit raised his head.
It is possible, but I doubt it. Your hunter is a fighter. An animal his equal will bond with him.

“His equal?” In magick, the greater the power, the bigger the risk.

You understand well.

Her heartrate slowed measurably, making it easier to breathe. “Okay. Fine. Great. This is wonderful. Why are you here?”

We needed to know.

“What?”

You. We need to know you.

Oh, great. They’d read her mind when she’d just gotten off the phone with the one person she hated and loved, and hated for loving the most. Her friends were fighting a demon inside a church she couldn’t enter. And they chose now to “get to know her?” Excellent.

These thoughts, the ones you currently think, are very human.

Paige glanced at the cat, then away toward where she knew the church had to be. “Don’t know if you noticed this, but I
am
human.”

We had.

Clearing her throat, Paige gestured with her hand. “Well, what’s your verdict?”

In your society, when someone does wrong to you, you are not allowed to recompense.

Frustrating, but, yes. “We have a law.”

A law your heart does not believe in.

Paige raised her face to a sky she could not see. She had once.

Then, Rachel happened. She wanted the freedom to make her mother pay for what she’d done.

Yes,
the animal spirit said.

That wasn’t something she should be admitting. Out loud. To someone else.

Not to humans. They lack the understanding.

“To understand what?”

That life isn’t good or evil, but that most things must be dealt with in either case.

And my mother?
Paige asked in her head, not wanting to voice the words.

Will have to be dealt with one day. In a manner in which she has earned.

Through death?
Paige demanded, upset that someone might think that was appropriate, that killing another person was the right approach.

The cat spirit smiled.
Do you really think that is the best way to deal with her? Can you not think more creatively than that?

Paige ducked her head. No. Having Rachel die would be the best thing for her. What Rachel needed was a karma spell, if one existed.

You are a witch, are you not?
the bear spirit asked.

“I am.”

Then make one.

Calm, real calm, settled through Paige as if the right answer had added the perfect pitch to a song. Her mouth fell open. She took in a deep breath to thank the spirit for her advice.

The smoky fog slipped between her lips.

Startled fear shot through her.

The cat’s face did not deteriorate, but the fog bank dispersed.

Inside Paige’s mouth.

The spirit filled her, reaching deep into her fingers, flexing her toes. It ran along her muscles.

Paige fought. She would not be possessed again.
She
would have complete control over her body at all times.

Yes,
a low tolling bell-like voice said inside her mind.

She stilled, her eyes locked onto the cat spirit’s.

Energy seeped into her bones. From her skull, down her arms, her fingers, up her toes, her legs, her hips, her spine, her ribs.

We accept you.

Fire seared her chest. Burning her from the inside out. She couldn’t move, couldn’t roll to put the fire out.

Her vision pulsed.

Human.

Witch.

Shifter.

Witch.

Shifter.

Human.

The trees flowed with green, radiant energy.

They stood like towering sentinels of normal bark and leaves.

They blended together; bark solid, leaves glowing.

Back to flowing green.

The sky pulsed with throbbing energy. The air molecules danced before her eyes.

The scabbed spell on her chest itched and burned.

She fought to gain control of one hand, her power hand, and tugged at her shirt to see the wound.

Scabbed, ugly, and puckered.

The edges blazed with steel blue light.

Both versions melded together.

The scab fell away.

The steel blue light cooled.

The pink skin whitened.

A mercurial silver flowed over the steel blue blazing light, folding together, weaving, sewing, mending, fixing.

The light flared once.

Paige fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Then, the fire was out.

She panted, the moisture from the ground permeating her clothes.

The cat and the remaining fog fled from the meadow, revealing the church again.

Using her witch vision, she looked at her chest again. The scar was hard to see. A bare, thin, white trail that was hard to distinguish. She peered deeper into herself, past her red aura, into the heart of her soul.

She couldn’t see the door. A silver sheen rippled through the red of her soul where the door used to be.

It still called to her, though. The tug remained.

But she controlled it.

Paige swallowed, feeling the space inside her own skin.
Animal spirit?

Yes,
it answered in a voice that was not male nor female. It came out as more of a growl.

But with it came a sense of completeness.

Do you accept my help?
the animal spirit asked.

Do you accept me?
Paige asked in return.

Yes.

Paige’s hands shook. She’d been looking for a solution. Could she be so lucky? Could this really be it?

But Aaron’s vision had said she’d be a danger.

And there was the treaty. Did it cover this?

Probably not.

Another gunshot rang out inside the church.

She really didn’t have time to debate.
Then, yes.

The animal spirit wove with hers, as if creating a tapestry on an ancient loom. Paige’s soul flared red, then purple, then blue, pink, green, and yellow, then back to red. A flurry of emotions surged through her; anger, wisdom, serenity, fear, stress, curiosity, then back to rage.

She blazed a white-hot blue. She was on fire, but she could feel nothing. Not the cool air around her. Not the moisture in the earth beneath her.

Not the demon in the church.

When the blinding white light faded, the mark that had been cast into her bone, that line of a hole that bridged her body to the demon plane was filled…with something grey that pulsed in time to the beat of Paige’s heart.

We are one now
, the animal spirit said in a quiet male voice.

Paige felt comforted as if someone had brushed their hand along her head and held her close.

She lay on the ground, spent.

But the demon inside the church did not pull on her.

Her lips rose and then they split into a wide smile. A laugh escaped her. Her arms, flung wide, she fell to the ground.

She was fixed.

Her belly rolled with laughter as the knowledge flew through her.

She was whole again.

P
aige scrambled to her feet and ran toward the church. Her animal spirit added power to her legs, filling her muscles with energy, propelling her forward faster. She took the stairs two at a time. She leapt up the top three steps, and yanked the double doors open.

Sven had wanted a spirit animal for power. She now understood why.

Dexx knelt in the middle of the aisle, yelling his exorcism over the swell of wind.

Jack lay on the floor beside the pulpit. His hand twitched. His leg jerked.

Karl was pinned to the far wall, her eyes wide.

Tony yelled something from the dais. He unscrewed the lid from the bottle of holy water and threw it at the man standing beside the pulpit.

His arms were wide. The wind whipped his shirt and jacket. His back arched. He threw his head back.

The holy water hissed and rose in swirls of steam from his bared flesh. The boiled skin glistened pink, then healed completely.

The animal spirit fed her soul, fed her rage, fed her sense of duty, her feeling of being fed up with the entire situation. Sick of being caged. Tired of remaining hidden.

She stepped over Dexx’s protections.

“Hey!” he shouted.

“Your exorcism,” she yelled back.

The wind howled. She didn’t know if he heard her or not, but his words continued.

The demon straightened, his eyes shining black. The wind died down, dropping its hold on his clothing. “Summoner.”

What did she want to do with him?

Send him back.

With a message.

The animal spirit inside her agreed with a growl.

Paige slipped inside her demon gift as if she was slipping into her favorite pair of old, worn shoes. A familiar sense of purpose reintroduced itself. The old power. The old abilities. Like a fighter getting back into the ring.

She extended her witch hands infused with her summoning gift. Inky blackness flew around her elastic-like arms as though a plague of locusts overtook her.

Her animal spirit’s energy danced along her skin, raising the hairs along the back of her arms. It seared the black with the chilliest of greys.

Paige reached into the man’s body and grabbed the demon’s soul.

The demon stilled, his mouth open. “But you’re—” He stopped himself.

“Fixed,” Paige finished for him and yanked.

The demon soul recoiled from her touch as she drew him closer.

He hid his twisted and scarred demon face, holding up his hands as if to shield his eyes from a blinding light. His clawed feet dug into the wood panels of the church floor, leaving long welts and wood shavings.

Amazing. Her gift had
never
worked like this before. “I want you to send a message for me.”

For us.

Yes. Paige advanced on the demon.

He prostrated himself against the floor of the church, the floorboards sizzling where his skin touched it. He raised his free hand. “Anything,” he said in a multi-layered voice.

She leaned down and growled in his ear. “Find Lucifer and let him know the war is coming. Sven Seven Tails has launched it.” She straightened. “And I’m answering the call.”

“Yes. Any—”

She pulled him toward her, shoving him into her body, through the doorway she now controlled.

He screamed.

She slammed the door shut behind him.

Something heavy thumped to the ground behind her.

Releasing the power of her gift, she staggered forward.
Did we really just do that?

Yes.
The animal spirit released a laughing growl.
We did.

“Jack!” Dexx shouted.

Paige spun. Where was the sheriff? She looked toward the wall where Karl had been pinned, but didn’t see her anywhere. “Sheriff Karl?”

“I’m here.” Karl pulled herself to her feet slowly as if her body ached. “I’m here.”

“Are you all right?”

The sheriff nodded, her dark hair falling out of her bun in wild wisps. “Pride’s bruised.”

Jack rose to his feet, a dark shadowy wraith rising around him.

“Whoa, shit!” Karl exclaimed. She reached for her gun, but her holster was empty.

Paige’s heart thumped, but something stilled her reaction to pummel that thing with everything she had.

That
thing
was Jack.

He reached down and grabbed Rory’s soul. It looked exactly like him, down to the rumpled green shirt he’d worn at the police station.

His animal spirit separated from him, holding onto the buffalo shape as they parted. As soon as they were fully parted, it became a cloud of mist and dissipated.

Interesting.

Rory’s body remained lifeless on the floor.

Jack raised his face to the ceiling.

A light shone from the roof, trailing down on him like a transportation beam from an alien spaceship.

Rory’s soul blinked at Jack, his lips moving.

From where Paige stood, she couldn’t see Jack say anything in return.

After a long moment, Rory turned to the light.

Jack released his hold on the young man’s hand.

The beam of light and Rory’s soul evaporated.

Jack slumped to the floor, his hands braced on either side of Rory’s still body.

Paige couldn’t believe what she’d just seen.

Special Agent Jack Scott was a frelling reaper!

Dexx skidded to a stop at the step leading up to the dais. “Hey, man, you okay?”

The darkness that had surrounded Jack dispersed back into his body. He nodded slightly, then nodded again with more vigor. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Paige swallowed. A reaper. A demon summoning witch. A shape shifting demon hunter. And a vampire.