Black Moon (The Moonlight Trilogy) (24 page)

Amelia
’
s form flickered, nearly disappearing. “He has our G
ifts
—a strange result of the curse. When they killed Solace, I absorbed her powers. So when the spell failed, both her and my gifts were locked away inside me. When I died, when Simon freed me, the curse was broken; and all those powers then transferred to him.”

Willa
’
s stomach knotted, the word
curse
slithering in her veins. She pressed her eyes closed for a second to steady herself.
Simon
’
s powers are part of a curse!
She exhaled and tried to focus on what other information she needed. “You said you
’
re a Water witch. What about Solace?”

“A Mind. A very sensitive one.” Amelia flinched. “She was so scared.” Amelia
’
s body nearly faded away again. “I
’
m very tired. Isn
’
t it strange that I get tired?” The ghost took a step away, her face already turned to the trees. “Did you see the dirt?” she said randomly, lifting a hand to wave it over the mess. “It
’
s a bad sign.”

Willa felt a curl of panic. “What do you mean?”

Amelia leveled her eyes on Willa. “Be careful, Willa. The Dark is coming.” With that the ghost disappeared. Willa gasped in surprise and frustration. The clearing hummed oddly in Amelia
’
s absence, and her words birthed a trembling dread in Willa
’
s heart.

Chapter 29

New Moon

August 1948

C
hloe looked up at so many stars and wondered how the heavens could hold them all. In a rare moment of clear sky on the Oregon coast, the universe dazzled onlookers with a sparkling display. She breathed in the cool ocean air, thick with salt and moisture. The rhythm of the waves crashing onto the sand and rocks matched her breathing. She felt the magic stir inside her and smiled at its warmth. Beneath the thick blanket, her bare skin flushed with the heat of it; she wiggled one leg out to feel the refreshing air and temper the magic’s touch.

“What an incredible night,” she said with a contented sigh.

The young man lying next to her rolled onto his side to gaze down at her, adoring and attentive. “I couldn
’
t agree more.” He brushed back her light auburn hair—the color of sunrise, he liked to say—and lowered his lips to hers.

A new wave of heat, one she was only beginning to understand, pulsed down her body. It felt strange, but exhilarating to lie next to Louis like this, her clothes tossed aside in the sand, the memories of their bodies moving together so fresh in her mind.

Chloe smiled as he pulled his lips away; she put a hand on his chest. “I wish it would never end,” she whispered. “I wish I didn
’
t have to sneak back into my room and sleep alone tonight. I wish tomorrow wasn
’
t a normal, boring day. It doesn
’
t feel like that should be possible after tonight.”

Louis grinned, his small white teeth, straight and perfect. A breeze rolled off the ocean and ruffled the ends of his nut-brown hair. His hazel eyes, specked with green, brown, and gray, glistened as he stared at her. Chloe
’
s breath caught in her chest, and she wondered if it would always do that when he looked at her that way.

“Just think,” he said, trailing a finger down her cheek. “In a few weeks we
’
ll be off to college, and you won
’
t have to go home without me. We can spend as much time together as we want.”

Chloe laughed, thrilled at the idea of so much freedom. She couldn
’
t wait to move out and be on her own. She was tired of her mother watching her like a hawk, that constant glint of worry that her daughter might do something . . .
unnatural
. “I can
’
t wait. I
’
m so glad we decided to go to the same school. It
’
s going to be perfect.” She slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled his lips to hers.

After a moment, Louis pulled back, fixing his deep gaze on her. “I love you
, Chloe
. I think I
’
ve loved you since that first day of senior chem. I never thought I
’
d fall for a lab partner.” He smiled warmly.

She blinked, surprised. The words hit her heart, sparking off into a million tiny pieces of excitement. After a moment to soak in the feeling, she returned the sentiment with passion. “Oh, Louis. I love you. I have for so long.”

He laughed and kissed her again. Then he lay back down next to her, gathered her into his arms. “I should have said that a long time ago,” he whispered in her ear. “I love you,” he repeated.

Chloe smiled as she pressed her body closer to his. Every part of her felt light and delicious, like spun sugar. Nothing had ever tasted as sweet as those words. She wanted to lie there and savor it forever.

But after a few moments, a thought soured her sweetness. How could Louis love her if he didn
’
t even know who she really was? If he didn
’
t know what she could do? Chloe had spent her life hiding her gift. For the last three years, she
’
d faithfully studied the spell book she found in the bookstore but always in secret. All her experiments with magic were done in extreme
secrecy.

Right now, she could feel the weight and joy of all the water around her, the ocean calling out to the power inside her. She
’
d known she had to hide her magic from her mother, but was it right to hide it from the man who loved her? What if he asked her to marry him someday? She couldn
’
t hide her whole life, and certainly didn
’
t want to. Not from Louis. She
’
d already spent much too long doing that.

Chloe
’
s stomach knotted; her hands grew cold.

Do I tell him?

Louis hugged her tight and kissed her hair. “Hey, you okay?”

Chloe ran her finger over his chest. If he could sense such a subtle shift in her emotions, why shouldn
’
t she tell him? He loved her and knew her better than anyone else. It was time. “Yeah, I
’
m fine.
There
’
s just something I want to tell you.”

Louis closed his eyes, content with her touch. “Oh no, you got another fella on the side?” he joked. Chloe smiled weakly, but didn
’
t laugh. Louis opened his eyes. “Hey, what is it? Is it serious? Come on, you know you can talk to me about anything.”

She nodded, exhaling to ease the tension in her stomach.
How do I start?
“There
’
s something about me you should know. Something no one else knows.” Chloe craned her neck to try to see his face. She needed to see his face when she said this. With a hand still on his chest, she pushed up into a seated position, keeping the blanket wrapped around her. Louis followed her lead and sat up too.

Chloe tried to smile. “This is hard to say.”

He took her hand. “Just say it, baby.”

“You know how you like to tell me there is a glow inside me, a spark you
’
ve never seen in other girls?” He nodded, smiling. “Well, there
’
s a reason for that.” Chloe swallowed, not sure how to explain. “I suppose it might actually be easier to show you than to tell you.” Chloe studied his face for a moment, open and receptive, then turned her eyes away from him, lifting her free hand toward the ocean. Her palm flared hot as she called to the magic, and within seconds a huge globe of water lifted from the sea, floating toward them under her command. She guided it closer and then swept her hand in an arc to form the water into a dome over them, completely encasing them in a cool, salty bubble.

Finally, she looked back at Louis, her body full of anticipation; she had never shown anyone her ability before. But what she saw on his face was not the wonder and awe she had hoped for. All the color had drained from his skin, now white as the sand beneath them. His body shrank away from the water, eyeing it with malice. Something cold formed in Chloe
’
s gut. “I
’
ve been able to do things with water since I was a little girl,” she rushed to say, hoping further explanation would help ease the shock. She regretted not saying something to prepare him first. “Don
’
t be scared,” she added; and he flinched, finally looking at her. Everything in his face changed, foreign and wrong.

“What the hell are you? Some kind of . . .
witch
?” he spat at her.

Something in that word on his tongue sliced a hole in her heart. “Louis, I . . . it
’s just . . . You don’
t need to get angry.”

“Angry? I
’
m not angry. I
’
m
disgusted
.” He looked up at the water. “Get this away from me.
Now!
” The harsh cut of his words made her flinch and the water dropped all around them, soaking them both. Louis immediately leaped to his feet, brushing vigorously at the water on his skin as if it might infect him. He snatched his clothes off the sand.

“Louis, wait. I
’
m sorry! Please don
’
t go,” Chloe begged, still sitting in the sand, the blanket pulled tight around her body, her wet hair plastered to her face. Panic turned her stomach. “Please! Let me explain.”

Louis turned cold eyes on her. “Don
’
t ever talk to me again, you . . .” he looked around where the water dome had been and then hissed, “
freak!
” With that, he was gone.

Chloe blinked after him, the surface of her eyes hot, stinging. She pulled the blanket even tighter and higher up her neck, trying to rid herself of the creeping feeling of raw exposure, of a nakedness she
’
d never felt before. Her body grew cold. Tears streamed down her face.

Mom was right to make me hide it.

Sitting in the wet sand, the ocean pulsing behind her, Chloe felt something inside her crumble and begin to die, a painful death that would linger and grow worse when the word
witch
, spray painted in red, appeared on her house
’
s fence two days later; a pain that turned to acid when a group of guys from school, Louis in the lead, cornered her in an alley, threatened horrible things, pushed her around and then left her shaking and alone; a bitterness that would sour when she was forced to change colleges and disappear from everything she had known.

A terrible secret that would fester inside her her entire life, flaring red hot on the day she watched her own two-year-old daughter grow a tulip from the ground, clapping when the bloom burst to life.

Chapter 30

Blessing Moon

July—Present Day

T
he minutes didn
’
t drag—they sat down in the mud and threw rocks at him. Nothing could distract Simon while he waited for Willa and Rowan to get back from the cave. He
’
d tried talking to Charlotte and Elliot, but he couldn
’
t focus on the conversation. Reading was hopeless; TV a lost cause. Finally, he fled to the backyard.

Wynter and Rowan had used their gifts to turn the once wasteland into a lush haven; it looked nothing like it had the night they rescued Wynter. Where there had been dead grass, there was the softest, most vibrant green lawn. Where there
’
d been dead bushes and dusty earth, there were now overflowing flowerbeds, rose hedges, and a huge garden that produced fresh produce overnight.

And, of course, the gigantic willow lording over it all.

Simon walked under the weeping branches, which reached out to
brush
his arms in greeting. Images of the wedding moved pleasantly through his mind. Though impulsive, the decision had been right. He had never felt as stable, as at-home as he had last night. Though he had always considered Willa family, now it was official in every way, and that eased his lifetime ache more than anything else had.

If only all the contented emotions could take away the dull ache at the back of his head.

He passed the pumpkin patch and continued out into the open land behind the yard. The house had several acres around it, most left to their own devices, trees and field grasses growing wild. He stepped off the manicured lawn into the tall grass and kept going until he was lost in the privacy of the land.

Simon stopped, took a long, loud inhale and then pushed the air out. It did nothing to quell his frazzled nerves. His mind flopped back and forth between two questions, afraid to confront either one.
What if Amelia was the old woman? What if she wasn
’
t?

He didn
’
t want to wonder; he just wanted Willa to get back and tell him.

Taking out his phone, he checked the time and his text messages for the hundredth time. He slipped it back into his pocket and paced in a circle. He picked up a stick and hurled it out into the grass. He paced more.

Finally,
finally,
Simon’s phone buzzed. Willa texted,
We
’
re back. Where are you?

He quickly responded and then started to walk back to the house. Another message came.
Stay there. We will come to you.

Simon exhaled, lightheaded from the sudden racing thump of his heart. He sat down on the trunk of an old fallen
tree
. His right foot bounced, jittering, but he forced himself to stay seated.

Two long minutes later, Willa, Rowan, and Wynter appeared, the swish of the grass announcing their arrival. Willa hurried forward, almost running, and threw her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes as he pulled her tight against him, wincing slightly at the wave of emotions coming off her. “
So, it
’
s that bad?” he asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

Willa sat next to Simon, took his hand and looked up into his face. “It
’
s good and bad.”

Rowan magically pulled another log from its resting place several yards away, floating it to sit in front of Simon
’
s log. He and Wynter sat, facing Simon and Willa.

“Did you find Amelia?” Simon asked, impatient.

Willa nodded.
“Yes, and she answered all my questions. She was the woman who came to your mother.”

A whoosh of air left Simon
’
s lungs. “And did she somehow give me her gift? Was she a Mind or a Water?”

Willa frowned. “It
’
s more complicated than that.” Simon listened closely as Willa related the story about the cave and the curse and Solace, his heart beating faster with every twist of the story.

“Solace, too?” Simon asked, shaking his head and clasping his hands together. “Holy moon! So I have Solace
’
s Mind gift and Amelia
’s Water? But I don’
t manipulate water any more than a regular witch.”

Rowan stepped in. “Simon, I think you actually have
three
gifts. Your own, which I believe is Water—not Mind—and then Solace and Amelia
’
s. I think you were originally gifted with a powerful ability to heal, a talent reserved for Water witches. That
’
s why you could heal animals in utero. When your own gift merged with Amelia
’
s, it turned you into a True Healer, someone who can heal animal
and
human, any injury large or small. The healing pushed aside the normal water abilities, and Solace
’
s strong Mind gift further masked them.” Rowan stroked his beard and then added, “If we worked on it, I think we
’
d unearth yet another great talent with water.”

Simon flinched at the word
talent. More like another problem, another thing I don
’
t know how to control.
He exhaled, trying to keep his emotions in check.
Three gifts!
He turned to his logic. “Okay, so now that we know
what
I am, how does it help me control it? Witches are supposed to have one gift; how do I control three fighting for attention? Is there a way to fix it?”

“Lots and
lots
of training will aid in controlling it,” Wynter offered. “You
’
ll need to get to know, understand, and perfect all three, together and separately. It won
’
t be easy, but I think doable.” She frowned briefly. “As far as fixing it—
we don
’
t know of any way to do that.”

“You will need to be careful—all the time,” Rowan added.

Something in his tone hinted at more information. “Why? I mean, besides the obvious.”

“How do you think you controlled that witch with your voice at the cave? How you threw those others without any effort?”
Wynter asked.

Simon frowned at the question but answered. “I
’
ve always assumed it had something to do with my Mind powers. I used my Mind to control them. Is that right?”

Rowan shook his head. “
We don’
t know much about True Healers, but Wynter and I received a call from an old friend in Scotland just yesterday. He called to talk to us about that weird business with the monks, but we also got into
True
Healer lore.
” He shifted on the log and hesitated.

“What is it?” Simon asked, stomach cold with anticipation.

“You didn
’
t do what you did at the cave because of your Mind gift, you did it because you are a Healer,” Rowan said slowly. He met Simon
’
s eyes and held them. “True Healers have the power to heal, to change a body, but that means they also have the power to
control it.
”

Simon blinked several times. “As in
control the person?
Manipulate them? Take away free will?”

Rowan and Wynter nodded. Willa tightened her grip on his arm. He looked over at her, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She whispered, “Yes, that
’
s exactly what it means.”

“But . . . but,” he stammered, mind a blur of confusion. “You guys always said that the magic couldn
’
t affect free will, couldn
’
t force.”

“It appears there is one exception,” Wynter said delicately.

So, not only was he a three-gift-freak, but also capable of the most terrible thing he could think of. Simon continued to look at Willa, her understanding face a steadying force, but something inside him was spinning, teetering on an edge.

What do I do with this?!

Simon
’
s fear of his own powers suddenly changed to disgust. His mind flooded with pictures of his small, childhood self: at five, cowering under the boisterous yell of his father, forced to turn away from a dying cat and leave the poor animal unhealed; later, finding the cold, stiff body and crying as he buried it, terrified his father might discover him; at twelve, locked in his room for a whole day because his mother had heard from another mother that Simon had fallen during a pick-up soccer game and broken his arm, and the woman had seen the unnatural angle of his arm, and then watched as he straightened out the bone, held the arm for a moment, and then ran off to rejoin the game; at sixteen being locked out of the house on several occasions, mostly in the winter, because of an argument about his
horrible habits that he refused to give up;
kicked out at seventeen; forced to survive on his own.

Control.

Control.

Control.

Reality hit him hard enough to take his breath away. Amelia hadn
’
t given him a gift; she
’
d passed on a curse.
My powers are the result of a Dark curse gone wrong, and my healing powers have the ability to hurt, to force.
Simon pulled his arm from Willa and ran his hands back through his hair. The open field suddenly felt like a small box.

“Simon?” Willa asked, quietly, her voice tense.

He jerked, pulled his mind out of his memories, out of the truth.
My parents were right—I
’
m an evil freak.
His head suddenly throbbed, the dull headache surging to a roar in his ears. Another burst of unexpected, unexplained power ricocheted inside him and then exploded out of his body. The grass around the logs burst into a perfect circle of flames. Willa gasped, flinching away from the fire. Simon lifted a hand, rested it on her hot cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but he could
find
no words. The pain in his head made it hard to think clearly.

Instead of apologizing, he pulled his hand back and stood up. He walked away, the flames parting to let him pass. Then he ran, ran fast through the field,
despite Willa
’
s calls for him to stay. The late afternoon sun poured down mercilessly, the first day of summer that felt truly hot
.
Simon ran in the orange heat, oblivious to the temperature. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, why the urge to leave was so strong. He should turn around and go back to Willa, his wife whom he had promised to stay with always; but he suddenly felt trapped, all good feelings from last night turned putrid and rotting, his body achy, antsy.

Simon got into his Jeep, his stomach sick and his head too full. He peeled out of the driveway and took off down the street.

He
’
d struggled with control his whole life: fighting it, having it, not having it.
Needing it.
Now he had to face the odd juxtaposition that the same power that helped him keep people alive, that healed, could forcibly control people; and that was
out of control
. His healing powers were sacred to him, as much as his heart and soul. As strange as it had always been, it was still an essential part of him, a part he clung to—often desperately—because each time he healed someone else, his own pain lessened, disappeared for a few glorious moments. Each healing justified the pain he
’
d endured as a child. If it hadn
’
t meant so much to him, he would never have endured his parents all those years. He
’
d have given up.

Until now he had considered his gift a blessing, a calling.

Simon had always assumed the
incident
at the cave happened as a result of his Mind powers, that he had somehow reached into the witches
’
minds. That made a broken kind of sense to him.

But now, with Amelia
’
s revelation and the Healer lore . . .

My ability to heal . . .

How could that gift be two-faced?

It
’
s not right.

Before he realized it, Simon had driven out of town and up the canyon. He rolled down the windows and turned the music all the way up to try to drown out his own thoughts, but it didn
’
t help. After several miles, he pulled off to the side of the road and got out. He walked blindly, not following a path.

The crunch of foliage and the crisp mountain air helped cool his emotions, and soon he could think clearly.
So what are my options? What do I do?
Simon sat down on a log, elbows on knees, and looked thoughtfully out through the trees.

Option one: training: listen to Wynter and Rowan
’
s advice
, train his powers so as to use them effectively and minimize the risk of hurting anyone. But what if he hurt someone
while
training, like he had Willa? And what if learning to use his gift—
gifts
—more effectively actually made him more dangerous? He had no desire to perfect the ability to force others to do what he wanted.

Option two: suppress—smother his healing gift, push aside his most powerful ability, and never use it. But would it even be possible? He hadn
’
t done very well at controlling any of his magic lately. Ever since the cliff, everything had been heightened, intensified. He could feel the energy growing inside him, trying to get out, begging to be used. Could he actually manage to suppress part of his powers while trying to be a normal witch? Could he isolate one gift while pushing down the others? And what would he do if someone got hurt and needed help? What if it was Willa? Would he turn his back, not use his ability to heal?

Option three: walk away.

A shiver moved through him.
Walk away.
Leave the Covenant; leave witchcraft and never use magic again. Run away for real, somewhere far away, and not come back. Maybe the time had come to stop pretending. His powers had never brought anything but trouble and pain. Why should he persist? It sounded like the safest option, but it would also be the most painful.