Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series) (26 page)

I pretended I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and decided to give the poor man a break. Flashing me a strange look I couldn’t quite decipher, he sat up straight and composed himself. “Sorry, I will be fine.”

“Do you expect the killer to attack us here at the house once he realizes what you’ve done?” Morrison continued, disregarding Nathan’s odd behavior.

“No, I think he will wait,” he said assuredly. “He will most likely feel too weakened and vulnerable.”

“So why the bodyguard?”

He’d had long enough to compose himself. With as much clarity as I could evoke, I conjured the sensations of the most powerful orgasm I’d ever experienced. Ruthlessly, I slammed it into Nathan.

“I thought it better not to risk—
Ahhhh
—oh—my…”

His words were cut short as he tried, unsuccessfully, to muffle the blissful exclamations. His body shuddered and he groaned in pleasured agony. With labored breath, he clutched desperately at the table.

I nearly burst out laughing.
Cool
, I thought. I hadn’t been sure I could actually give the man an orgasm just by thinking it, but kudos to me. This gift had some intriguing possibilities.

Hiding what was happening was no longer an option. Morrison looked away and disguised his laugh with a cough. Aidan left his unfinished food and made an excuse to leave.

After a few minutes, Nathan finally quieted down and looked up, his face scalded with heat. Morrison excused himself and left us alone. I leaned back in my chair with my arms crossed over my chest, a smug grin plastered to my face.

“You know they are aware of what just happened,” he bit out with chagrin.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve matured beyond the infantile emotion of embarrassment, isn’t it.” I said with arrogant satisfaction.

“You little minx!” He broke into a grin, admiration filling his voice. “I apologize for earlier, and I promise I will
never
again belittle your emotions.”

He walked over and lifted me into his arms. “You have an especially unique way of proving a point.”

I chuckled, shaking my head.

“In case you have not noticed, I can be obstinate at times. You may need to prove your point again later when we are alone.” He waggled his brows, suggestively.

I laughed. “I would apologize to you, but I’d have a very hard time being sincere. I really enjoyed that!”

“Laugh it up. How does the saying go? Payback is a bitch.’” he taunted while claiming my mouth in a searing kiss. It was a pleasant distraction from the danger looming ahead.

“We should rest a bit before midnight.” He laced his fingers in mine and guided me upstairs to rest.

***

Gone was the playful mood from earlier, it was all business now as midnight was only minutes away. Morrison wanted to observe the spell, but I insisted he remain outside the door. I forgot that Nathan and I would have to be nude while casting the spell. Nathan wasn’t bothered at the prospect of Morrison see him in all his glory, but I drew the line at my partner seeing me naked, no matter how much I liked him. Morrison argued, thinking it was unfair because Aidan was allowed in the room. He even went so far as to offer to take his clothes off so he could stay—that didn’t help his case.

Closing the circle was much more potent this time, now that my powers had been unbound. There was an instant charge of power that nearly took my breath away.

Nathan asked that I chant the words of the spell with him. Apparently, we had to do it eight separate times to bind the powers of each individual slain witch. Lying on the altar was eight miniature dolls; each contained the herbs Nathan had procured, and the soil that had been collected from the graves.

“Are you ready to begin?” he asked

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He’d gone over the spell and specifics of the ritual many times, so I knew exactly what to do when he nodded his head. At the signal we both began the chanting rhyme in sync.

Goddess your guidance we seek this hour,

That we may bind Morganna’s power.

I summon the power of the Garner witches,      

That evil has taken with dark bewitches.

I call for the power to contain it within,             

This vessel we bind, to keep it from sin.

We recited the final lines, slowly, as Nathan took a black ribbon and little by little wound it around the puppet.

In the name of justice by the law of three,             

That no harm will be done, so mote it be.  

With the doll fully swathed in black ribbon and the spell completed, I held my hand above the puppet. Nathan took the silver athame and sliced a line over my palm. Giving time first for the blood to pool in my hand, I tilted it over the doll and let the crimson fluid drip generously to saturate the vessel.

After a few heartbeats, I felt an almost imperceptible stirring of energy in the air. The force increased, gradually. The stimulating charge became so dense a furious snapping and popping of light and power filled the circle. Slowly, it disappeared, infusing and filling the doll until it literally droned with power. Nathan put the doll aside and grabbed the next.

Holy crap, only one binding done and already I could sleep for a week. Nathan was right, this was draining, and we still had to repeat the spell seven times over. Fuck. I wasn’t sure I would make it.

When all was said and done, it took until three o’clock in the morning to complete all eight bindings. When it was finished, we closed the circle and re-donned our clothes. Nathan locked the dolls in a hidden safe in the attic. “Aversion spells and wards are implemented to protect the safe from evil,” he explained.

I was grateful for that, though I was way too tired to voice it.

Once I knew the dolls were secure and the spells were cast, I almost collapsed on the floor. I’d never felt so utterly spent in all of my life. We steadied each other until Morrison and Aidan helped us to our bed. Nathan and I fell into a deep sleep until about eight o’clock the next evening. When I woke, I still felt lethargic, my eyes gritty and sore with fatigue.

“How long will I feel so weak?” I asked, groggily.

He stroked the back of his hand gingerly against my cheek. “Do not worry, our strength will return by tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to whine. I’m just not used to feeling so vulnerable, it’s disconcerting.”

“Maybe this will make you feel better. The way you feel now—the killer is feeling the same but much, much worse. We have drained only a fragment of our power, and we will rebound, but he has lost the power of eight strong witches—forever. Some of that power has been pulsing through his veins for almost thirty years. He will be feeling extremely vulnerable, and desperate.”

“Funny, that does make me feel better.” I smiled at him, but it faded quickly as a dismal thought crossed my mind. “I’m just worried about what happens when you make a power hungry serial killer desperate.” I said bleakly.

He breathed out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “Yes, the thought has crossed my mind as well. We will have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Nathan was right, no point in looking for trouble—trouble seemed to have a way of finding me. I decided not to worry and just be complacent with the comforting feel of his arms wrapped around me. If I had my way, the rest of the world would just disappear and I would lie forever in Nathan’s arms. Unfortunately, that’s not how life works, sooner or later reality was going to catch up to us.

Chapter 18

Things had been quiet for most of the week, and I felt the seeds of hope starting to bloom. Maybe the killer had given up. After all, if he couldn’t keep the power he was stealing there would be no point in coming after my family again. I was beginning to feel optimistic. Maybe we would never catch him, but if the rest of my family could be safe, I could live with that outcome. Unfortunately on Thursday that week, reality intruded on my idyllic fantasies of a peaceful existence.

“Agent Morrison, Agent Reece, they need you at this address.” SAIC Hunter handed Morrison a slip of paper with a cryptic, “we have a situation.”

“What sort of situation?” I questioned him, guardedly.

“I don’t have any details, only that Denver PD requested your presence at a crime scene.” He explained. “Oh and when you get back, we’ve finally received the video and newspaper articles you requested from New Mexico. I put them in your office Agent Morrison.” He turned and left the office.

My gut clenched with a terrible sense of foreboding. Why would they request us at a crime scene unless it was connected to our case? Shit. I’d been hoping our spell had thwarted the killer. I really thought we wouldn’t hear from him again.

We arrived at the address on the slip of paper. It was a charming, cottage bungalow on a quiet, peaceful street. Neighbors gathered in morbid curiosity around the perimeter that had been cordoned off. I’m sure this particular suburban community never thought that the kind of violence they see on the evening news would ever reach their little paradise.

Police officers littered the street, along with the medical examiner’s truck, photographers, and crime scene units. I no longer had any doubts about this being a murder. Homicides always seemed like a three ring circus to me, it was sad really, at a time when there should be some semblance of privacy out of respect for the victims.

Morrison and I were escorted quickly to the officer in charge, “I’m Agent Reece and this is Agent Morrison, are you Officer Henry?” I asked politely. Walking onto a crime scene with a police presence had to be handled delicately, police were often territorial. I never understood the animosity, we weren’t there to step on toes we were there to add extra resources.

“Yes, I’m glad you’re here we have something we were hoping you could explain.” He seemed grateful for our presence as he shook our hands. I would’ve been able to sense it if I wasn’t locked down. I had myself protected to avoid any unwanted emotions from barging in before I was ready. 

Psychic abilities aside, I knew it was going to be gruesome. A few officers leaned against the house for support, their faces ashen. One was even curled over the bushes vomiting, that was never a good sign. The trepidation that had tormented me since Agent Hunter appeared in our office suddenly segued into full out dread.  I could no longer entirely block the barrage of emotions exuding from the people at the scene. Feeling the overwhelming revulsion in the air, my stomach began to churn from what I was picking up from them. And I hadn’t even stepped inside, yet. Entering the house was surreal. I felt strangely like a character in a horror flick, about to walk into something guaranteed to give me nightmares. Nervous beyond anything I’d experienced before, I knew it was going to be bad, doubly so because it was my first homicide since the return of my powers. My senses were so much more acute than before, and I wasn’t sure I could shield myself from the victim.

My anxiety ratcheted up a few degrees when I felt the familiar hum of evil. It was our killer, all right. Though, the evil signature felt weaker—almost diluted somehow, but the general vibe was the same. He’d been in this house.

I leaned over and whispered to Morrison, “It’s our guy.”

Alarmed, his eyes widened and he looked at me. “How do you know?”

“I can feel him.” I answered. “He leaves behind a very distinct energy. I
know
he was here.”

Stepping inside the house, the first thing that struck me was the hideous stench. So overpowering, my hands instinctively flew up to cover my face as I fought down the bile rising in my throat. I tried to ignore the coppery, rusty smell of blood that assaulted my senses but it was difficult. I knew right-off that this scene wasn’t going to be like the others. For one thing, there was blood everywhere.

Standing in the living room, no corpse in sight, the room was covered in blood. Sun glistened in through the windows, glinting and sparkling off the crimson fluid, the cheery sunny day outside in such contrast to the horror inside. How was it possible that the sun could still shine down when such atrocities surrounded us? I thought waywardly as we continued through to the bedroom.

Vigilantly, I walked into the bedroom, careful to avoid contaminating any evidence. When I finally laid eyes on the barbaric massacre before me, it took a few minutes for my brain to catch up to the images.  The first thing my mind eventually recognized was the lifeless face of a young woman, eyes eerie with the glaze of death. Her pale blue irises were open, but still chillingly beautiful. I stared at her, wondering if this poor girl was another cousin, another piece of family I’d never have the chance to know.

I let my gaze travel over her mangled body. Her chest was ripped open, ribs literally crushed into pieces and lying inside the empty cavity. Cuts, bruises, and burns marred every inch of her creamy pale skin. Desperately I clung to my shields to block what she experienced, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus, especially considering my own emotions were going crazy.

A slaughter, fuelled by rage and vastly unlike the other murders, this carnage was so different than the methodical and precise ritual he’d maintained with his prior victims. The other scenes were neat and he’d always maintained control. Never before had I sensed any rage. This was quite the opposite. Even though I was blocking him with every ounce of my ability, the anger was still able to seep through. He was incensed…furious.

Morrison turned, slightly, his back to the body. I heard him suck in a steadying breath before he suddenly gasped and shouted, “oh my god!”

Turning in his direction, I caught sight of what had startled him. The second I did my stomach revolted and I began to heave. There on the wall, written in blood, was a message addressed directly to me. SPECIAL AGENT REECE YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF MINE.

My knees turned to Jell-O as I tried desperately to hold it together and catch my breath. I couldn’t let myself break down.
Stay calm. Be professional.
“Keep it together Reece,” I whispered like a mantra.