Chapter 28
The sun set with an almost violent display of color. Finn burst free of the base, fueled with rage at being trapped by the magic. It was years since he had railed against the restraint of it, but the need to be free of it, finally and completely, burned inside him now.
Time seemed to pass with agonizing slowness while he waited for Genevieve to return. He dressed, then got water from the refrigerator and gulped it down. He took to the sky, though it wasn’t completely dark, circling the area, searching for her car. He spotted it moving toward the house followed by two other vehicles, a red pickup truck and a silver van.
When her car pulled into the driveway, he tossed the empty bottle into the rubbish bin and waited for her to park the car in the garage.
She appeared a few minutes later through the front door, and walked directly to him to press close, her arms around his waist.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“The police have taken Mai to the safe house. It was emotional for us. I’m very worried about her. He’s come after her once, I’m concerned he might do so again.”
“The men with her will protect her, lass. And because he’s tried before, they’ll be on alert.”
“Yes. Of course.” She pressed closer, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“Ye said ye wouldna go off alone, lass.”
“Mai was worried about Sylvia being at the apartment. And since Sylvia got them out of that hospital room alive, Mai naturally wants Sylvia with her.”
Finn shook his head. Genevieve’s independence would be the death of him. “Yer eagerness to help those ye care about is admirable, but ye must have a care for yourself, too.”
She looked up. “I’m being careful. I was surrounded by police the whole time we were at the station.” She leaned back. “The ladies will be here in an hour or so to start. How are you feeling?”
“Eager to get this behind me.”
She did her best to project confidence, but tension worked beneath her expression. “Do you want to eat?”
“Nay, lass. I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I.” She raised a hand to tuck his long hair behind his ear. “Your ears are almost human, Finn. The curse is weakening. You could wait and see how far it retreats on its own. You have time.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I spend most of my waking hours in a stone prison, lass.” Waiting to be with ye. “I dinna intend to wait any longer.”
She nodded, though her fear for him was apparent in the way she held him. “I love the flower bed you created. It’s beautiful, and fragrant, and I love seeing the bees and butterflies.”
“I can bring you meat for your table, fish from the stream nearby, berries from the forest, even mushrooms should ye want them, but I canna work to provide anythin’ for ye. I canna be a man, Genevieve. I canna walk with ye in daylight. Be a true part of yer life. I canna have a life beyond what I already have. I want to live as a man. Work as a man.”
Be a lover to ye. How he longed to say those words.
She turned her face against his chest, and her tears dampened his skin. She pulled away and turned her back to him.
“If I thought you were risking your life because of me, I’d call Juliet and Miranda and tell them not to come. But I know it’s more than that.” She brushed at the tears and wiped her hands on her jeans. “I want you to be free. I really want that for you.”
“I know ye do, lass.” He laid a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “I want that kiss. Once all this is done.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes still wet, but offered him a tremulous smile. “There’s a saying that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your handsome prince. Maybe kissing a gargoyle will count as two frogs—maybe more.”
Finn laughed. “I must finish gathering firewood for the bonfire.”
“I’ll fix some iced tea and food for when this is behind us. We may both be hungry by then.”
“Aye, lass.”
After she went into the house, Finn stalked around the studio and entered the forest behind the house to scavenge for firewood.
What if this spell didn’t work?
He would continue to be just as he was…or it could make things worse.
He could be trapped inside the gargoyle forever. He already made arrangements to solve the issue if that was the case. Henry and several of his wolves promised to destroy the statue.
He stacked several fair-sized limbs in his arms and carried them back to the edge of the woods, dumping them in the garden wagon Genevieve used for the heavy bags of mulch he just laid for her. His thoughts continued as he foraged and loaded more wood.
He could be trapped as the live gargoyle. In that case, he would contact the bear shifter Tate and ask him to kill him. It would be better for someone who had no attachment to him to do it.
It wasn’t impossible he could be left just as he was now, which was equally unacceptable. He couldn’t face eternity living as the monster. At least when he was fighting the German planes, he felt he had a reason for being. But what purpose could he serve as he was, here or any other place?
He was shot at because he was a part of the unknown and unusual, flying overhead. If his presence became common knowledge, they would put him in a cage. Or decide he was a danger and hunt him down. How many times would they try to kill him if the magic wouldn’t allow him to die? That would be a hell unto itself.
He could drown himself. Once in the water, the weight of his wings would drag him beneath the surface. All he’d have to do would be breathe in and let himself go. If he could do it. The instinct to live was strong. And it hadn’t worked the last time. He found himself back on his block the next evening.
He hauled the wagon around the side of the house and pulled it out into the middle of the field, where he had already cleared a circle for the fire, dumping the wood and jogging back with the wagon behind him.
His thoughts returned to his internal debate.
Was he a coward for wanting to end this?
He had been so long without a human touch. Until Genevieve. He’d need to have a stone-cold heart to resist her. The way she smiled at him. The way she tucked his hair behind his ears. The way she looked at him. He didn’t want to leave her in pain because of his passing, but she couldn’t cling to a monster if there was no hope. If he lived, it would be more difficult for her.
Unless he kept looking for a way to break the curse. Because her computer didn’t like his magic, he’d asked Genevieve to research magic shops and witches. New Orleans had many, as did some areas of California and New York. Some were probably charlatans, but there had to be others who were truly powerful. If he could find one who understood black magic and would be willing to free him from this…
He couldn’t expect Genevieve to wait for him. It might take years. Time meant little to him, but she was human, and deserved a family, and a man to love her. A son or daughter to pass her skills on to, as her grandfather passed them on to her. Though it would kill him seeing her with another man. Just as it had seeing her with Simon.
If Juliet and Miranda could free him from his base, he would be able to travel about the country alone and search for someone to help him.
Having worked up a sweat, he wiped a grimy hand over his face and dried it on his sweatpants. If the witch’s spell worked, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. He just needed to hang on and see what happened.
After he took the last load of wood out to the field and put the wagon back in storage, it was time to clean up and dress for the evening.
He’d just put on a clean pair of sweatpants when the first cars pulled up, and Genevieve went out to greet the witches. The women were quieter, solemn and focused, but for all their deportment, an air of excitement simmered beneath the surface. With every one of them dressed in colorful ceremonial robes, they reminded him of a royal gathering.
The fabric of Juliet and Miranda’s robes shimmered with color. Like two iridescent dragonflies, they swooped down on him with another woman in tow who was less flamboyantly dressed in a simple black robe.
Juliet said, “Finn, this is Aubrey McClellan, one of our oldest and dearest friends. She’s been a practicing witch since she was twelve, and she’s agreed to lend her support tonight.”
He could feel the witch’s power from a foot away. It was warm and soothing. “I am grateful for your help, Aubrey McClellan.”
She studied him for a long moment. Her green eyes kind. “May I touch you?”
Finn extended his hand and she took it, her grip stronger than he expected.
After a short, thoughtful moment she released him. “I’m sorry for your trials, Finn. When is it you hurt your foot and your eye?”
“My foot some days ago, my eye last night.”
“Juliet said you normally heal once you return to stone. What has changed?”
Genevieve stepped forward. “It’s my fault, Aubrey.” She explained about having worked on his toenail and the repercussions.
“I’d like to try to heal you before we start the spell,” Juliet said.
Finn nodded and she placed her hand over his eye.
Finn watched her face while she murmured a spell beneath her breath. The shadow of a bruise showed on her face for a second, and she flinched, but then it disappeared. The pain and soreness he continued to experience from Tate’s head butt eased, then dissipated.
He remembered Juliet saying that for every use of her magic there was a price. She had paid the price to heal him. She knelt at his feet and started to do the same to his foot.
He raised his hand. “Wait. I dinna wish to cause ye any pain, and the foot wound is worse. Mayhap ye should save yer power for bigger issues.”
Genevieve’s scent came from close by. He turned to find her behind him. She slipped a hand in the crook of his arm, her features pale but composed. “I’ll take the price for his healing, Juliet.”
“No, lass.”
“It was my actions that caused it. I should pay for it. You need to be at your strongest for this to work, Finn.”
“She has a point, Finn,” Aubrey said. “We’ll try to do as little harm as possible, but the magic that surrounds you is thick and black as tar. It’s going to cause you some discomfort when it comes off.”
It had come close to killing him going on. His heart began to race, and dread lay like a brick in his belly. “I had a wee mind it might smart some when it’s banished. But I appreciate the warning.”
“Please forgive us for any pain we cause you.”
Her apology didn’t make him feel any better about the upcoming experience.
“It winna be ye or the others here I hold responsible, but the man who cursed me to begin with. I give ye m’word.”
The three witches nodded.
Juliet gripped Genevieve’s hand while she murmured the spell. Genevieve bit her bottom lip as the pain from his foot was transferred to her. When his nail was once again whole and the foot had no pain, he turned to check on Genevieve.
“I’m okay,” she said, with a weak smile.
The three witches returned to the fold. Another car arrived, and five more witches joined them. The required thirteen had expanded to fourteen. Finn wondered if it would make a difference.
“Ladies, let us begin,” Miranda called, and started across the field to the clearing Finn had created with its large stack of wood. The other witches followed.
The closer they got to the clearing, the deeper Genevieve’s fingers dug into Finn’s arm.
“Ye winna consider staying at the house while we do this?”
She raised a brow at him. “No.”
He nodded. He wished she would. His breathing sped up, and he felt a little nauseous. “’Twill be fine, Gen.”
“I know.” For the first time, she didn’t sound like she believed it.
The steady call of crickets and other insects had stopped while the group trekked through the field.
By the light of the women’s flashlights, Miranda and the others stood like spokes on a wheel along the perimeter of the circle. Within the circle, Juliet and Aubrey stood on either side of a small potting table. Bowls, candles, water, and several other items were arranged on it.
Juliet stepped forward, her stance regal as she spoke. “Our intent here tonight is to free Finlay MacLeod from the black magic that has transformed him from man to gargoyle. If it be the will of the Goddess and God, we will succeed. We will call the corners to protect us all from any backlash. Each witch here has provided an object for the ritual, as have Finn and Genevieve. Finn, if you will light the bonfire.”
He eased away from Genevieve and went to light the wood. A little of the wondrous lighter fluid she kept in the shed made setting the dry wood alight much easier. The heat from the blaze radiated out to him, and he stepped back.
The women extinguished their flashlights and stood in the firelight. Juliet lit sage, and, walking clockwise, moved around the circle, cleansing it while Aubrey followed her with a broom, literally sweeping out any negative energy.
Finn had researched part of the ritual they were going to perform so he would understand a little of what would happen.
Juliet beckoned to him. “Finn, I invite you into the circle.”
He entered the circle, and Juliet waved the sage smoke around him, and from head to toe.
“Genevieve, because Finn is a creature of the air, and you have guardianship over him, I would like to invite you to stand in the east quadrant of the circle.” She gestured to her right. Genevieve entered the circle and stood between two of the witches, while Juliet cleansed her by walking around her with the sage stick.
Then Julia walked to the center of the circle and placed the smudge in a brass bowl.
Next Juliet chose a wand from the objects on the table and once again moved clockwise around the circle, coming to a stop beside Genevieve. She pointed the wand toward the sky. “Oh, ye Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East, I call upon you to witness this rite, to guard this circle and keep us safe. May the element of air rise and ripple, blow the dark magic away from Finn and this place. Let it return across the ocean to the place from whence it came.”
Aubrey handed her a stick of incense, and Juliet lit it with a wave of her hand and inserted it in a holder at the eastern corner.
She returned to the table, traded the wand for a dagger, and walked the circle again. At the south corner, she pointed the dagger. “Oh, ye Guardians of the Watchtowers of the South, I call upon you to witness this rite, to guard this circle, and keep us safe. Help us light that which is dark, let it shine bright with love and peace, and banish the anger and hate that bound this magic.” Aubrey handed her a red candle, and Juliet lit it with a wave of her hand and placed it at the south corner.
The third time she walked the circle, she raised a small, carved statue, “Oh, ye Guardians of the Watchtowers of the West, I call upon you to witness this rite. To guard this circle and keep us safe. The dark magic drinks from Finn MacLeod’s spirit. We ask for the powers of water to wash away the darkness that clings and transforms him. Fill and refresh him instead.” She knelt and placed the cup at the western corner.
She took up a stone and walked the circle one more time, this time stopping at the northern corner. “Oh, ye Guardians of the Watchtowers of the North, I call upon you to witness this rite. To guard this circle and keep us safe. From the earth this stone came, but no earth has kissed the stone Finn transforms into each day. Oh, mighty Earth, swallow the magic that encases him, and return it to the realm from which it was summoned.” She placed the statue on the ground at the northern corner.
When she rose, she looked to the rest of the group. “Bind yourselves together, sisters.”
The witches stretched their arms out and grasped hands.
She called Finn forth and rolled a long pallet out on the ground for him to lie on. He had been so caught up in the ritual, the sense of dread lying like a block of stone in his stomach had dissolved, but now it returned tenfold. Because of his wings, he had to lie on his side. She placed a small pillow under his head, and knelt beside him, holding the dagger she used earlier and a foot-long clay doll. “I need a lock of your hair and a drop or two of your blood, Finn. May I take it?”
“Aye.” She cut a lock of his hair with the dagger and affixed it to the doll’s head, then pierced the small form’s chest with the tip of the knife. When he offered his hand, she pricked his finger and let the blood drip into the hole she made in the clay, sealing it inside the figure.
She set the doll on a cloth the size of a hand towel next to him.
“Powers from the east, south, west, and north,
“We have come to call you forth.
“Drag this darkness from Finlay Macleod and into the light,
“Bolster us in our fight.
“Move this curse from him to lay
“Within this figure, this doll of clay.
“Let this evil power reside
“Where it may forever abide.
“Tear it loose and bind it firm,
“Where it will never again cause harm.
“By the power of these fourteen and thee,
“As we wish it, so mote it be.”
The witches chanted, over and over, “Movere ac tenebras.”
Finn knew what the words meant. Move the darkness.
The wind began to whip around the circle, bending the tall grass flat. The fire, fed by it, rose like a tower, writhing and dancing over the raw wood. The power built inside the circle, the pressure of it first pushing down upon him, then burrowing beneath his skin like a thousand ants. Finn gritted his teeth against the pain. He attempted to breathe through the worst of it, until a stabbing agony struck his back. His wings seemed to be folding into his body. The bones crushed as they stabbed into him, and a scream exploded from his belly.
* * *
Genevieve clapped her hands over her ears, unable to listen to Finn’s screams. Tears flowed down her cheeks in streams. The urge to scream along with him built and built, until she stumbled forward and fell to her knees beside him. His body twisted and contorted as his wings started to disappear into his back. The length of his jaw receded, and he clutched his face, tears bathing it as he twisted and writhed upon the pallet.
She moved to touch him, but a bluish glow emanated around him, pulsing with heat and power, and stinging her when she got too close. The gargoyle’s pain-filled grimace was now a man’s. Finn’s features had reverted to human, and the points on his ears were gone, but something continued to bubble beneath the surface of his skin like hot liquid.
How could he live through this? How could he not pass out from the torture? She prayed they’d stop their chanting. When they didn’t, she gripped her hair at the scalp with both hands and squealed in pain along with him. For she felt a part of his pain, sharp and piercing, and she rubbed her arms hard. When his eyes rolled up and he went limp, it was a relief.
Her attention turned to the clay form beside him. It had taken on the gargoyle form, wings and all. For the first time, she believed this might work.
The chanting stopped. Silence as profound as a prayer stretched. A hollow emptiness surrounded them like a vacuum. Her ears felt full. She swallowed to try and make them pop.
The doll-sized clay form started to change. The wings shrank by an inch, then two.
“Noooooo.” Genevieve grabbed the doll and held onto the wings to keep them from retreating back into the clay. “Noooooo.” She tugged at the clay and shaped it expertly. The tiny face began to shift, and she worked quickly to stop it as well, but though she tried, her hands couldn’t work fast enough.
As Finn’s wings erupted again, he awoke with a hair-raising scream. She threw the figure down with a sob broke and crawled to him, holding as he writhed in agony. It seemed to go on forever, and when it finally ended, his wings stretched back as they had before. He lay spent, breathing in harsh gasps while she wiped his tears away with the hem of her T-shirt, though her face bore the same evidence of his suffering.
“I love you, Finn. It doesn’t matter what you are. I love you.”
His shoulders heaved, and he wiped his face with the back of his hand before pulling away and staggering to his feet. “Ye must stop, Genevieve. There is no hope. I am an abomination.” He staggered out of the circle and continued toward the trees.
Miranda dropped to her knees beside Genevieve to gather her close, and she buried her face against Miranda’s shoulder while sobs racked her, because he was right. For one glorious moment they had hope, and now it was gone.