Chapter Nine
The end of the shower stall, where Maeve waited, was open to the entire bathroom. It wasn’t a big space but it could definitely hold two people, even if one was the size of a small mountain.
As she watched Braden get undressed, and all those muscles appeared, her body started to heat up. She hadn’t understood until this moment just how much she’d needed this time with Braden, the physicality of sex, the pleasure, but mostly the closeness with another person.
When he finally got rid of his clothes, he still hobbled a little. She stepped aside for him. “Get under the spray.”
As he backed up, and dipped his head beneath the spout, she bent down and saw he’d really jammed up his big toe on his right foot. He’d been hurrying to get to her. The least he deserved was a little healing, something she could do even without a special potion in hand. It was one of the best gifts of her witchy life.
She grabbed a nearby towel, dropped it to the shower floor, then eased down on her knees. She placed her hand just above his toe, formed a picture in her head of healing waves flowing from her hand and just like that, the space between warmed up.
“Damn, that feels good.”
“I wish I’d been able to do this for you in the Graveyard but your condition was way past my abilities.”
After a minute, when he wiggled his toes then arched his foot, she knew he was good to go.
She had the oddest thought about this moment, something akin to worship. He was an extraordinary man with more muscles than she’d ever seen in her life, so she stayed where she was.
Using both hands, she caressed the back of his knees then slowly slid her palms in the direction of his feet. Her fingers rippled over all kinds of muscles along his calves and the sides of his legs, tapering to his ankles.
The whole time she massaged, he said nothing. His body and mind seemed quiet, yet intent on what she was doing.
She worked his thighs in the same way. He flexed for her and she looked up at him. His green eyes were lit with pleasure and amusement. “I like what you’re doing.” His voice had dropped an octave.
“I like doing it. You’re amazing.” With the heel of her palm, she pushed along the inside of his thigh. He kept flexing for her and each time he did, she rubbed the full-length of the muscle, up and down.
He was aroused as well. She wasn’t surprised. The shower smelled of Madagascar and his increasing wolf musk. The latter was richer now, a strong, marking scent and she loved it.
Her own sex tingled with need, but she wanted to take her time. Each second felt precious. In a world like Five Bridges, it was.
Slowly, she moved toward his arousal, her jaw working as though ready. Her tongue made an appearance. He groaned.
His hand slid to the nape of her neck and stroked. He didn’t try to push her, but she didn’t require the encouragement.
Her tongue touched his cock first, a gentle stroke from below as she swept up to the tip. She opened her mouth and took him in.
She felt him tremble as she began to suck. She used her tongue as well, swirling and licking. She pulled back, moved forward then set a rhythm.
He breathed heavily, his cock now a solid missile.
After what was a very short time, he stopped her. “Hold up there.”
She released him and rose to her feet. She slung her arms around his neck and kissed him. She angled her leg so she could feel his arousal against her sex.
His arms became a vise as he held her tight. He drove his tongue into her mouth and kissed her hard. She was so close. They’d barely done anything and she was ready to fly.
When he drew back, his nostrils flared. He shut the water off. She knew the question he was asking without saying a word.
“Yes, Braden. Mark me. I’m ready.”
He collapsed on her as he kissed her again. He turned her swiftly and pressed her up against the shower wall. He kissed her throat, fondled her breasts, squeezed her bottom. She’d missed this so much.
“Braden.”
He drew back. His eyes were rimmed with gold and his jaw quivered. His cheeks had elongated and tufts of fur appeared near his ears. To the part of her that was experiencing her own form of wolfness, the sight was sexy as hell.
What did you want to say to me?
She’d gotten lost in looking at him. “I have a place near my spellroom. I sometimes sleep there. It’s cave-like. I want you to mark me there.”
He stepped from the shower and drew a towel off the nearby rack. He handed her the towel then grabbed another one for himself.
He didn’t talk. She wasn’t sure he could. His features had remained in a slightly wolf position. He kept huffing air from his lungs.
She dried off but had her eyes glued to his face, then his shoulders, his abs. She loved looking at him. It wasn’t just that he was gorgeous. The wolf in him was at the fore, and he exuded a kind of energy that was almost a glow.
Something inside her began to hum in tandem with his wolfness. He’d told her she was alpha-mate material. Now she felt it, a hum within her own body that loved the fur along his cheeks, and the elongated look of his bones, that his lips kept drawing back so she could see his wolf fangs.
She wrapped herself in her towel. When he did the same, she caught his hand and led him though her house toward the spiral staircase that led to her spellroom. She didn’t let go and she didn’t levitate. She needed to feel his palm against hers and the stone beneath her feet.
Once in the spellroom, she meant to turn to the right, to take him into her sanctuary. Instead, her worktable called to her.
Suddenly, Sheba was there meowing at her. She settled herself in the center of the table and faced the wall of glass canisters as she’d done before, tail twitching.
“What are you doing?”
She wasn’t exactly sure, but she did know one thing. “This is something for your wolf. Don’t worry. Sheba approves.”
Braden drew close on the left side of the table and petted the cat. Once more, Sheba purred at the wolf’s touch.
She approached the glass containers and let the spell talk to her. She drew mint from the shelves, no surprise there. She went down the rows one by one and kept pulling them to the counter.
There were nine in all.
She quickly worked through the compound. Her witchy senses knew what she was doing, though she couldn’t say she understood the purpose of the potion or what exactly the result might be. All she knew was that this was for Braden.
She felt his tension and glanced at him. Then she understood. “Don’t worry. I’m not adding emerald flame.”
She spooned or tweezed the required quantities into her mortar. When she had the right combination, she ground the elements together into a fine powder. She added water but this time, she heated the brew just until warm.
She poured it into a small red ceramic dish-like cup and tried to hand it to Braden. He even held out his hands, the willing man that he was.
Instead, she felt the familiar resistance and understood. For some reason, though she was certain the result was meant for him, she was supposed to drink the potion herself.
She always trusted her witchiness. Unlike just about everything else in Five Bridges, she never went wrong when she stuck with her instincts. She brought the dish to her lips.
“Hey. I thought it was for me. I don’t get it.”
“I thought it was, too, but I’m supposed to drink it. Though, I’m sure this is intended for your benefit, so we’ll have to see what happens.”
He eased back and she drank the potion.
She barely tasted it, but by the time it reached her stomach, images began to flow through her mind. She wasn’t exactly seeing a future event as she was receiving instruction on what she was supposed to do.
She took his hand once more. Near the writing table was a small, arched wooden door. She never took anyone inside with her, not after the workman had finished. She’d made all the adjustments and improvements herself.
The room was dark to begin with since there were no lamps in the space. But when she closed the door behind them, it was pitch black and dead quiet. “Stay put, or can you see in the dark like this?”
“Well, I’m good, but not that good. I need a speck of light. What is this place?”
“I meditate in here.” And other things which she might tell him about if the moment presented itself.
She felt her way to the inset stone shelf to the right of the door and lit the lone candle.
Everything she’d experienced in Five Bridges converged in her mind in this moment. Right now, especially with a new potion moving through her blood, she felt the mystical nature of their world.
Braden looked around. “You’ve got a garden down here.”
Vines hung from the walls. Shrubs and flowering plants lined the space on all sides except the door wall. A broad bed of furs, where she often collapsed after her night’s work, took up the center of the room.
Earlier, when she’d brought the faux furs to use on the stone floor in front of the fireplace, she’d taken them from here. She’d never quite understood why she’d created this space in the first place. She had recessed gro-lights that ran on a timer during the day and every vine and shrub was planted in the earth. She mulched, she watered, she tended.
She’d called this place her sanctuary and loved the oxygen rich air. But the walls were still stone and way under the earth.
The same blankets formed a thin mat between the numerous furs and what was a stone floor. Otherwise, the space was as close to nature as if it was outside.
“You created a burrow.”
“You mean a wolf burrow? I guess I did.” The reality of it stunned her, but her newly developed wolf senses now confirmed the truth. Very mystical.
She turned toward him and let the towel fall to the floor. “Braden, did I know you were coming? Did I create this for you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Honestly, I think I must have.”
~ ~ ~
Braden had lived a decade in Five Bridges, but in all that time he’d never seen anything as extraordinary as what Maeve had created. He’d been in a number of burrows before. He and his wife had created and shared one. Most were deep in the earth but fitted out like a home.
What Maeve had created went to his wild nature. To say he loved it, would place too small a meaning on what this meant to him. The word ‘home’ kept circling through his mind.
He’d lost so much when Laura died, his partner of over twenty years. They’d wanted a family, but had never conceived, then they’d landed here as alter wolves.
Odd to think her death had led him to Maeve, to her huge heart, her willingness to save those abandoned in the Graveyard, even to risk her life to save Kiara and the other captives. She was an Alpha female, a woman he could mate with.
He was in love with her and tonight he would mark her.
Yet, to come here, and to see that somewhere in her consciousness she’d felt compelled to create a burrow of unequaled beauty, moved him beyond words. For a moment, he wondered if his wife, well beyond the grave, had been at work to fashion this space as well. Even she had reached out to him encouraging him to give Maeve a chance.
He dropped his towel as well and approached her. He took her hands in his. “Maeve, there’s something I want to say to you that I never thought I’d say to another woman again. I’m in love with you. I want you to know that.
“But I don’t think it started with your rescuing me from the Graveyard, either. I think it began when I first met you. Then with every meeting after, I started looking forward to being with you.
“I know there’s a lot standing between you and me having a future. I know you’re still grieving for Frank and that our world causes you a constant source of distress. But I’m here and I’m offering you a partnership in Five Bridges. The truth is, I never expected to love again, not after Laura died.”
She stood staring at him, unblinking. But her light blue eyes were soft with tears. “I’m scared, Braden. I’m scared that if I love you, I’ll lose you like I lost Frank and you lost your wife. I don’t know if I have the courage to do this. I’m drawn to you. I ache for you, but I’m scared.”
She’d spoken the essential nature of her misgivings. She didn’t want to grieve again. He didn’t either.
He released her hands and pulled her into his arms. He held her tight. Nothing had felt so good in a long time. He kissed the top of her head over and over. He didn’t say anything. These were her struggles just as he had his own. At least now she knew how he felt.
Finally, she drew back, but not so far that he couldn’t keep his arms around her. “I know I’m ready to accept your wolf mark. That much I can do. It’s a big step for me. In some ways, I’m letting go of my human life by doing this.
“But it doesn’t change that this world still scares me badly most of the time. It’s shocking to me what evil alter folk will do to humans or other alters of their own kind. Veyda seems more typical than not.”
He squeezed her arms gently. “There’s a flip side, Maeve. There’s you and people like you. Most of the Border Patrol Officers I serve with are good men as well and put their lives on the line every night. The majority of the wolf-packs make a decent contribution to Savage. And I’ll bet you’ve found many witches who would never think of joining a dark coven.”
“I have. But the powerful in Five Bridges seem to dominate the majority of what happens here. How do any of us counter that? How can we truly make a dent?”
“Like you do. You’ve done amazing things at the Landing. Look at the people you’ve saved. You’ll be part of a ripple effect that will one day turn the tide for all of us in Five Bridges. You’ll see.”
“You really believe that.”
“I do and here’s why. As violent as you think Five Bridges is today, it was twice as bad ten years go. Your finding me in the Graveyard wasn’t my first brush with death, it was my hundredth. I don’t know why I’m still alive, although I’d like to think it’s because one day I’d meet you. Then maybe, just maybe, we could build something powerful together, a bigger way forward to help change our world.”
She shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Braden. You give me hope but I’m so afraid to hope.”
“It takes courage. And that’s something you’ve got by the bucket-load even though you don’t think you do.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He was surprised, but he wasn’t so stupid he didn’t know what to do.
He kissed her back and began a slow massage of her shoulders. He gradually moved lower until he was caressing her bottom and pressing her against his growing arousal.
I want to do this. Her voice in his head sounded rich and needy. Her lemon-lavender scent rose and flooded his brain with all kinds of wolf-endorphins. The potion she’d taken had enhanced her scent as well.
He felt his cheeks elongate, and fur rise on his face and the backs of his hands. While still holding her firm against him, he lifted his right hand and drew back just enough to stroke her face with his fur.
She gasped and turned into his hand to bury her nose. Your wolf scent, Braden. It’s getting to me. Her body rolled against his.
He picked her up and carried her to the thick pile of furs. She’d been here often. He could smell her scent everywhere.
He laid her out on the makeshift bed and settled himself on top of her. He ran his fingers through her curls. “You spend time here, don’t you?”
“I have a terrible confession.”
“What’s that?”
“I’d always come here after you and I would meet at my candle shop. I couldn’t help myself. I used to think it was because you were so handsome or that I needed the distraction. Now I know it was always so much more than that.”
He ground his hips against her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I am. I imagined being with you while I touched myself. I was always so aroused by the time you left my store.”
He thought for a moment. “And I always thought what I was smelling was the candles, but it was you, wasn’t it? I’ll confess as well. I would return to my hotel room and get in the shower. I took my time with my fist. Did you take your time?”
“I did. But now we’re here. Together.” She caressed his face and drove her nails against his fur. His lips pulled back. She touched his fangs. “But I have to say, this is so much better. Your heavy body pressing against mine.” She grabbed his arms. “And all this muscle. Braden, you need to bite me and bite me hard.”
Those words brought a growl from his throat. Her eyes flared. He pushed at the side of her face until she rolled her head. He opened his jaw wide and took as much of her vulnerable throat in his mouth as he could.
She whimpered and wrapped her legs around him. Braden, I need you inside me.
He used his hand to guide his cock. She tilted her hips which helped him find her opening. Given the sounds she was making, he wasn’t surprised he slid right in and it was heaven.
He knew he belonged here and he belonged to her. She had a distance to go yet, but he was all in. She was what he needed, what would ease forever the loss of his wife. Maeve was his alpha-mate and he’d wait for her as long as he needed to. He’d also do everything he could to warm up her affection for him.
Still holding her throat tight, he began to thrust into her. He set a strong rhythm. They were both close and once he initiated the marking process, it wouldn’t take long.
Then suddenly, he began to see images in his head, an arousing image that trailed from her mind to his.
It’s the potion, Braden. This is for you. I understand it now.
The images were of Maeve, but in wolf-form, with a reddish-brown coat. She was racing through the pine forest of Savage. He was chasing her, also on all fours.
He didn’t know how she was doing it, but he could feel the rough ground beneath his paws. He could smell her wolf scent combined with the ever-erotic lavender and lemon. His cock grew hard, like flint. His balls tingled.
But he needed to bring the female wolf down, hard. She needed to know he was her master.
She ran faster. He put on more speed. He thrust into Maeve at the same time, his hips like a steam engine. He heard her moaning heavily.
In the images within his mind, he closed the distance. Maeve’s reddish tail was only inches away. With a quick boost, he launched through the air at her and landed on her back.
Maeve moaned heavily. I can feel you Braden. I can feel you on top of me. Your teeth are in the back of my neck. You’re entering me. Oh, God. Braden.
He heard her shout her pleasure and as he entered her like a wolf, he began to pulse. Ecstasy tore through his cock, he released her throat and rose up roaring. The images still played of him releasing into Maeve in wolf-form. He loved her fur, her scent, everything.
Time swirled through his head. He was in her burrow, he was in the forest. He was in a new world of their making.
His body started to ease down.
Then the wolf leaped away from him and the chase was on. Again. He got hard once more.
For you, Braden.
He ran after her. Only this time, she half-levitated as she flew through the forest.
On the bed of furs, he pumped his hips into her and again latched onto her throat. He increased his girth as he’d done before.
Yes. Her voice whispered through his mind. More. Faster.
He increased the speed of his hips as he flew through the air. He was ready. He launched at her, caught her midair and brought her once more to earth. He again bit the back of her neck to control her.
This time, in both real-time and in the image, he released his marking scent. It swelled over him.
Braden, that scent. You’ll make me come.
Those were all the words he needed. He slammed into her, and moved wolf-fast, faster than a human male. He felt her body writhe against him and heard her cries once more.
As the orgasm rushed through his cock, he held on and fixed the mark with his teeth, his scent and his semen.
What happened next stunned him. His inner eye could see within her body. He watched his sperm move through her, as pleasure mounted pleasure. Up through her uterus, like lightning. The journey led to an egg. No, two eggs and his sperm pierced them both.
Life began.
A boy and a girl.
A third orgasm tore through him. He released her throat, overwhelmed and overcome. He roared, only this time it was with the knowledge he’d created life with Maeve, unexpected, stunned beyond reason.
She screamed her pleasure one last time and as the sensations dimmed, he looked at her. She met his gaze.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Braden. Did you see that? Was it real? Will I carry your children?”
“Yes.” He knew it as well as he knew his name and her scent and how beautiful she was as he remained connected to her. He almost asked her to bond with him then and there. But he knew something still wasn’t right with her. So, he held back.
He kissed her instead and kept on kissing her. Then he kissed her neck and afterward blew some raspberries until she was giggling and begging him to stop.
“Thank you for this, for the lovemaking, for the potion-based images that were hot-as-hell, for taking me into your burrow. I love it here. I hope we come back to this room, or cave, or whatever it is, again and again.”
She leaned up and kissed him. “Me, too.” She opened her mouth then closed it. “I have no words.”
He felt it as well, that what had happened here, the beginnings of life, had them both overcome.
~ ~ ~
An hour later, Maeve sat in a chair beside Kiara’s bed. She held the witch’s hand. Her color was good but she looked worn to the bone. Weeks of torture had taken a toll.
The only visible poison-burn was the one on her neck. The tissue had mostly healed leaving behind a patch of silver streaks that would remain with her the rest of her life. She’d seen these scars on a couple of her human rescues, more of Veyda’s handiwork. She knew there would be horrendous scarring on Kiara’s abdomen, where most of the painful torture had taken place.
Maeve hadn’t seen the damage herself, but Alfonso had given her the details.
“You seem different.” Kiara’s voice was hoarse.
“I do?” She looked away from Kiara as images of being with Braden rolled swiftly through her mind. It all seemed so surreal. Braden had marked her. But was it really possible she was pregnant? With twins?
Yet, every witch sense she possessed told her it was true.
She was alone with Kiara and maybe for that reason didn’t mind telling her at least some of what was going on. “I’ve been with Braden. We’ve gotten very close.” She chuckled nervously. “Maybe too close.”
Kiara’s lips curved. “I’m so glad. Braden is such a good man. My heart broke for him when Laura died. And now it seems so strange that you’ve hooked up with him. I mean, Laura died the same night you killed those witches. Maybe for that reason, fate brought you together.”
Maeve knew she was to some extent sharing Braden’s wolfness. But at these words, she felt his wolf, or maybe it was her wolf now, come to the fore. Her nostrils flared and her mind sharpened. She could feel some of the fog dissipate around her memories of what happened that night when she’d gone berserk.
She felt oddly outside of herself as she spoke these words. “You’re right. Laura died the same night.”
“What do you mean? Are you remembering what happened?”
“Maybe.” She glanced down at her hands. They were clasped in her lap, the knuckles white. She forced herself to relax.
Kiara rolled onto her side facing Maeve. She reached over and grabbed Maeve’s joined hands. “You can do this. The timing feels right to me. As your friend and as your mentor, you can bring your faulty memory forward.
“You need to see what really happened that night. You’ll never full embrace your future with Braden until you’ve faced and accepted what happened in Veyda’s killing room.”
“Kiara, I know something horrible happened that night, something worse than even taking the lives of those witches.”
“I know. But remembering will set you free to forge a better life here in Five Bridges, a life that might be able to include one of the finest men I’ve ever known.”
These words had an effect. Into the depths of her spirit, she wanted a life with Braden more than anything. She’d been alone since Frank died and living out a nightly, horror-filled existence as she brought people back from the dead.
She’d accepted the role she’d chosen. She valued what she did. But she’d also lived alone in her underground rooms.
Then Braden had come along.
Now, she didn’t want to go back to being alone in her burrow. She carried his children and she wanted to be with him. It seemed to her that the only thing standing in her way was this ever-present fog that covered the central killing platform in Veyda’s now-destroyed building.
As thoughts of Braden took hold of her mind, she forced the fog to roll back.
She was inside Veyda’s killing room once more. She could smell the deaths of the witches. Her killing power had torn through each of their bodies.
But why had she done it? There had to have been a catalyst.
She wanted to see it all.
This time, she moved backward into her memories, before the witches had died. She focused on Veyda.
Once she did, the killing room came into better focus. The platform had lost most of its fog now. She could see the woman’s tortured body, but not her face. A remnant of fog still clung to her features. Maeve kept her newly acquired wolfness in a dominant position over her witch senses. It helped a lot.
She urged the memories to come forward.
She could hear Veyda’s voice in her head, prompting her to do something. But what?
Like a train whistle far away, she heard it, a shrill agonized scream.
The terrified and painful cries of the tortured woman had started peeling her drugged stupor away.
That’s when she’d come to a full awareness of what was happening in the killing room. The drugs Veyda had given her had prevented her from seeing the full horror of what the witch expected of her. These memories, she’d blocked completely.
Until this moment.
The two witches stood on the opposite side of the killing platform. Maeve’s back was to the bank of one-way mirrors.
The witches were painting the poison on the woman’s skin. The poor woman screamed over and over. She writhed, trying to shift away from their tools, but she was strapped down along her arms and legs. Blood and dissolved tissue boiled from the wounds. Maeve couldn’t understand why she was still alive.
Veyda’s voice had entered her mind, the sound serpent-like. My specialty poison. It only affects the skin and muscle, but takes a long time to penetrate the organs. Isn’t it beautiful?
Maeve’s heart had pounded in her chest. The woman screamed and screamed. Her whole body shook. When it looked like she would pass out, the witches backed away to let her recover. The choir of witches, positioned in the risers to the right of Maeve, began to chant.
The woman begged for mercy. She begged to be killed.
The last bit of fog rolled away from the woman’s face. She turned her head and looked directly at Maeve. She begged her to take her life. “Please. Kill me.”
In that moment, as Maeve finally saw the woman’s face, she felt as though her sanity was balanced on the head of a pin. She didn’t know if she would ever recover from what she now knew to be the truth.
She’d killed Laura.
She’d killed Braden’s wife.
She wept.
She hadn’t known she was the one who had ended Laura’s life until this moment.
“Please. Please. The pain.”
Though Maeve stood several feet away she could smell the poison and understood its caustic base. She had a strong sense of just how much suffering the woman had endured and would still endure at the hands of these witches.
Laura kept calling to her. “Help me. Please, help me. Take my life. Please. Do as Veyda has instructed you. Please, Maeve. Please.”
Laura had known her name. Maybe Veyda had invoked it.
Maeve could now recall how her feet had moved in the woman’s direction on their own. She climbed the three carpeted stairs of the killing platform so that she was right next to Laura.
She saw into one of the long burns on her leg. She could see bone. Tears flowed down her face. What was happening here was vile beyond words.
Laura grabbed her wrist. “For the love of God, set me free from this pain.” Her breaths were high and shallow.
Veyda’s voice was once more in her mind. Yes, you should kill her. If you don’t, I’ll put her on the pyre while she’s still alive. The flames will burn slow and steady and it will be your fault that she suffers.
As if to prove her intention, several men arrived wearing black masks and capes ready to remove Laura.
Maeve felt the grip on her wrist lessen.
Veyda again. I can make this last until dawn, then take her to the pyre.
One of the witches, her eyes dark with evil, brought her a long, sharp blade, curved in at the sides. Rubies glittered on the handle.
Maeve had searched her witchness. Was there something, anything she could do to save Laura? But she’d only been a witch for two short weeks. She had no skills, no understanding of her abilities.
Nothing.
“Please.” The voice was hoarse and weak.
Maeve remembered taking the blade and climbing the final step so that she stood directly over Laura’s body.
“Yes. Straight through my heart. I’m ready, Maeve. You can do this.”
But Maeve couldn’t.
Then one of the witches drew near and in a quick, cat-like strike spread a tiny portion of the caustic poison on Maeve’s arm.
Maeve screamed.
Veyda explained her reason for the poison. It won’t last long and there won’t be a permanent scar. I just wanted you to have a taste of Laura’s pain.
Maeve called on the angels in heaven to give her the strength to end the woman’s suffering. “I’ll do it.”
One of the witches carried an antidote and spread it over Maeve’s wound. The pain fled.
Maeve recalled the rest of it now, what it felt like to lift the blade high overhead, to stare at the place in Laura’s chest she intended to hit, then to strike with the full force of her strength.
The sharp point had penetrated the bone and in a split-second, Laura’s life was ended.
She’s grabbed Maeve’s wrist once more as the last of her life-force left her body.
Maeve met her gaze. Laura smiled and mouthed, ‘Thank you’. The light in her eyes dimmed then vanished. Her hand fell away.
It was over.
Silence held the evil space for a long moment, then the witch-choir began a celebratory chant.
But that was the moment Maeve became a true witch. Rage flooded her mind and her body at what had been done to Laura and to herself. Yes, she’d ended Laura’s suffering but she’d also taken her life. Now that she remembered it, she would have to live with what she’d done the rest of her days.
A fury had possessed her and a desire to destroy this room and the women who had given themselves to the darkest part of the human spirit. These witches didn’t deserve to live. They’d abducted an innocent woman and tortured her.
With her killing power at full bore, she’d swept her arm in an arc over the two nearby witches. Each had screamed.
Maeve had then turned on the choir and done the same. Women fled in all directions.
She went berserk and burned the drapes on the walls, just as she had done when she’d rescued Kiara.
She tried hard to locate Veyda, the one responsible for this coven and for Laura’s death.
She couldn’t see her, so she went around and blasted the entire room, piece by piece with her killing power.
When her energy began to fail, a new voice entered her mind. You must leave, or Veyda will return and kill you.
It took her a moment to recognize who it was. Laura?
Yes. It’s me. I’m going to get you out of here.
But you’re dead?
I’m a ghost now. Let’s go. You need to leave the back way, the way the witches departed. Take the hallway to the right.
So, Laura had led her out of Veyda’s compound.
Once outside, Maeve had no idea where she was. I don’t know where to go and Veyda will find me if I return to my house.
I know a place. You’ll stay with Kiara. She’s a good woman and will teach you what you need to know.
Maeve came back to the present fully. She sat back in her chair and wiped her cheeks. Once more, tears had appeared without her realizing it.
“Are you okay?”
She glanced at Kiara, but barely saw her. “Remember the night I showed up on your doorstep?” Maeve rubbed her left wrist where the poisoned paste had touched her a year-and-a-half ago. As promised, she didn’t even have a scar.
“Of course, I do.”
“I didn’t remember until just now how I’d gotten there. Did I talk about what happened? Have you known all this time?”
Kiara nodded slowly.
“Oh, God. What have I done?”
Kiara sighed heavily. “It’s been a huge burden, but I was convinced you could only know in your own time, when you were ready to understand and accept the truth.”
Maeve kept shaking her head back and forth. What she’d done was too horrible to process. She’d killed the wife of the man she’d fallen in love with.
She felt numb and wished she could scream and cry it all out. But somehow it seemed like the perfect end to the whole thing. She’d arrived in Five Bridges with apparently more inherent ability than any other alter witch in a long time. Veyda had wanted her in her dark coven, she’d wanted to train her in the ways of sacrificial torture and death.
Maeve had refused. An abduction had followed. She had little memory of how much time had passed from the abduction to Laura’s murder. Maeve had been drugged and only brought out of the stupor when Laura was being tortured.
She rose to her feet. “I have to go.” What more was there to be said.
Besides, she had a poison to create.
As she turned to leave, Kiara caught her hand. “Maeve, you did the right thing. At the point you killed Laura, she couldn’t have been brought back. She’d already reached the tipping point. The poison had penetrated the bones and entered her blood stream. But it would still have taken hours of agony for her body to perish. Laura valued what you did. That’s why she came back to get you out of there.”
“Thank you for that.”
She gently pulled her hand from Kiara’s grasp.
“Maeve.” Kiara called after her. But her feet were already in motion.
She had to tell Braden the truth.
He had to know.
But before she told him, there was one more thing that needed to happen.
She went straight to her spellroom and got to work.