Face the Fire (18 page)

She believed it absolutely. Just as she understood
the value of that faith, and that sense of self. Doubts, questions, fears would only diminish power when she needed it most.

The vision had come unbidden, and with some physical distress. She wouldn’t take such a thing lightly.

She prepared carefully. It was not a time for rash
behavior or showmanship, though she often appreciated the flash and the flare.

It seemed now that much of what had happened that day had been meant to prepare her. Her purging of temper that morning, the fasting, and yes, the sex. Ridding the body of frustration and celebrating one of its more joyful purposes would only aid her in what was to come.

The herbs and oils for her ritual bath were chosen with deliberation. Rose for psychic power and divination. Carnation for protection. Iris for wisdom that she might understand what was shown to her.

By the light of candles inscribed for her quest, she immersed herself, washing body and hair, cleansing her mind.

Using creams she’d made herself, she coated her skin before slipping into a long, loose robe of white. She selected her charms and pendant carefully. Dendritic agate for protection in travel, amethyst to sharpen her third eye. She hung malachite from her ears, for vision questing.

She gathered her tools, her divination wand with moonstone at the tip. Incense and candles, bowls and sea salt. Knowing that she might need it, she selected a tonic for restorative energy.

Then she went into her garden, to gather peace and wait for her sisters.

They came together and found her sitting on a stone bench beside a bed of nodding columbine.

“I need your help,” she said. “I’ll tell you on the way to the clearing.”

They were barely into the forest, the light
dimming with dusk, when Ripley stopped. “You shouldn’t be
the one to do this. A flight leaves you too open, too vulnerable.”

“Which is why I need my circle,” Mia countered.

“I should do it.” Nell touched Mia’s arm. “Evan’s most directly connected to me.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t do it,” Ripley argued. “The connection’s too close. I’ve already done this once, so I should do it again.”

“You flew without preparation, without protection, and you were harmed.” Reminding herself that there was patience in reason, Mia continued to walk. “The vision came to me, unbidden. This is for me to do, and I’m fully prepared. You don’t have enough control as yet,” she said to Ripley. “And you, little sister, not enough experience. Even disregarding both those facts, this is for me. We all know it, so let’s not waste any more time.”

“I don’t like it,” Ripley said. “Especially after what happened to Sam last night.”

“Unlike some men, I don’t have to prove my heroism. My body stays within the circle.”

She set her bag down in the clearing and began to cast the circle.

Nell lit the candles. She was calm because calm was needed. “Tell me what to do if something goes wrong.”

“Nothing will,” Mia assured her.

“If.”

“If, then. You pull me back.” She looked up and saw the glow in the trees as the moon began its rise. “We’ll begin.”

She disrobed, standing in the arms of the young night in nothing but crystals. Holding out her hands for her sisters’, she began the chant that would free her consciousness from the shell of her body. And let her fly.

“Open window, open door. I seek to see, I seek to soar. Over sea and into sky, my spirit lifts, my senses fly. It is within my gift of power to command this airy hour and to
ask that what I see bring no harm to them or me. As I will, so mote it be.”

There was a slow and lovely sense of weightlessness, of lifting out of the shell that held the spirit bound to the earth. She floated free of it, a bird rising on the wing. And, for a moment only, allowed herself to embrace the glory of it.

Such a gift was golden, but she knew the ribbons that tethered her to the earth could be carelessly snapped. Even for the thrill of flight, she wouldn’t trade her reality.

She beamed over the sea where the starlight was reflected like bits of sparkling glass scattered on black velvet. From deep within its depths came whale song, and the music carried her to the far shore.

The buzz of traffic, conversations within houses, the scent of trees and of dinners cooking all swirled below her as life drove forward.

She heard the outraged cry of a newborn pushed into life. And the last sigh of the dying. The quick, soft brush as souls passed on their way. She kept the light of them around her, and sought the dark.

He had such hate in him. The breadth of it was infinite, and layered, and not, she realized as she drew closer, all his own. What was in Evan Remington was a rancid mix, one that offended the senses. But she could see as she watched the orderlies, the guards, the doctors move through the facility where Remington was imprisoned, that none of them caught the underlying stench.

She let the thoughts, the voices of the others bleed away, and focused on Remington and what used him.

He was in his room for the night, a cell far removed from the plush surroundings he’d once commanded. She saw he had changed considerably from the night in the woods when Nell had defeated him.

His hair was thinner, his face rounder, with the jowls
beginning to sag beneath deep, sharp lines of dissipation. No longer handsome, no longer smooth, his face had begun to mirror what he’d hidden inside him for so many years.

He wore loose orange coveralls and paced his cell like a soldier on sentry duty.

“They can’t keep me here. They can’t keep me here. I have work. I’m going to miss my plane. Where is that bitch?” He spun away from his cell door, and his pale eyes searched the small space. His mouth folded down as if in mild annoyance. “She’s late again. I’ll have to punish her. She leaves me no choice.”

Someone from outside shouted at him to shut the fuck up, but he continued to pace, continued to rant.

“Can’t she see I have business? I have responsibilities? She’s not going to get away with it. Who the hell does she think she is! Whores, every one of them whores.”

Suddenly, like a puppet on a string, his head jerked up, and his eyes were madness slicked thin over hate. Madness began to glow red.

“Don’t you know I see you, whore-bitch? I’ll kill you before it’s done.”

The blast of power slammed into her, a fist in the belly. She felt herself waver, then bore down. “You’re pathetic. You use a madman to horde your power. I need only myself.”

“Your death will be slow and painful. I’ll keep you alive long enough so that you see it all destroyed.”

“We’ve already beaten you twice.” She sensed the next whip of energy and deflected it. But it took all of her strength, and she felt her link shudder as Remington’s head changed into that of a snapping wolf. “And the third time’s the charm,” she finished; and pulled herself back.

She poured back into her body, staggered, and might have fallen if Nell and Ripley hadn’t supported her.

“Are you hurt?” At the urgency in Nell’s voice Mia struggled to settle again. “Mia?”

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“You were gone too damn long,” Ripley told her.

“Just long enough.”

“So you say.” Still gripping Mia’s hand, Ripley jerked her head. “We’ve got company.”

As the visions cleared out of her mind, Mia saw Sam standing just outside the circle. He wore black, the long coat swirling in the night air.

“Finish it, and close the circle.” His voice was brisk, businesslike. “Before you collapse.”

“I know what to do.” She reached for the tonic Nell was already pouring into a cup. Because she was not yet steady, she took the cup with both hands. And she drank until she no longer felt as if her body was a mist ready to be swept away by the wind.

“Close the circle,” Sam demanded. “Or I come in, regardless.”

Ignoring him now, she offered thanks for a safe flight and, with her sisters, closed the circle.

“It continues to use Remington.” She slipped into her robe and belted it, though her skin felt as thin, as fragile, as the silk. “More like a vessel than a source, but still some of both. It fills him up with hatred of women, of female power, then uses the mix to feed its own energy. It’s potent, but not without vulnerability.”

She reached down for her bag, and when she straightened, swayed.

“That’s enough.” In one motion, Sam swept her into his arms. “She needs to sleep this off. I know what to do for her.”

“He’s right.” Ripley put a hand on Nell’s shoulder as Sam carried Mia out of the clearing. “He knows what she needs.”

Mia’s head spun, infuriating her. “I just need to get my balance. I can’t get it unless I’m on my feet.”

“There was a time you weren’t so twitchy about needing help.”

“I wouldn’t be twitchy if I needed help. And I don’t need you to—” She bit off the words. “I’m sorry, and you’re right.”

“Boy, you must be shaky.”

She let her head rest on his shoulder. “I’m queazy.”

“I know, baby. We’ll fix it. How’s the headache?”

“It’s not bad. Really. I’d have come back sturdier, but I had to come back fast. Damn it, Sam, this dizziness is . . .” Gray began to swim at the edges of her vision. “It’s not passing off. I’m going under.”

“That’s all right. Go ahead.”

For once she did exactly as he suggested and didn’t argue. When she went limp in his arms, he continued to carry her toward the house. He would curse her later, he told himself, when she could fight back. For now, he took her inside and up to her bed.

Knowing she had to sleep long and deep didn’t make it any easier for Sam to see her, so pale, so still in the shadowy light of her bedroom. He knew what could be done, and tending to her at least helped keep his mind on the practical.

He knew what protective oils and creams she’d used. He could smell them on her skin. After he laid her in bed, he gathered the proper incense and candles to bolster what she’d already used.

She always had been an organized soul, he thought as he checked the shelves and cupboards in her tower room for the supplies he needed.

Even here she had flowers—clay pots of violets—and books. He scanned the books, selected one on healing spells and charms in case he needed to refresh his memory.

In her kitchen he found the herbs he needed, and though it had been some time since he’d practiced any kitchen magic, he steeped a pot of rue tea to aid her in spiritual cleansing.

She was deeply asleep when he returned. He lighted the candles and incense, then sitting beside her, slid his mind into hers.

“Mia, you need to drink, then you can rest.”

He trailed his fingers over her cheeks, then brushed his mouth over her mouth. Her eyes opened, but the gray was blurred. She was limp as water as he lifted her head and put the cup to her lips.

“Now you drink and heal in sleep. Dreams will take you far and deep. Through the night and into the light.”

He brushed the hair from her face as he eased her down again. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I’m alone here.”

“You’re not.” He lifted her hand to his lips as her eyes closed again. “I’ll wait for you.”

She let go of him, and slid into dreams.

She saw herself, a child, sitting in the rose garden her parents had neglected. Butterflies fluttered in the palms of her upturned hands as if her fingers were petals.

She and Ripley, so young and eager, lighting the Beltane fire in the clearing.

Sprawled on the floor in front of the fire while Lulu sat in a chair, knitting.

Walking on the beach with Sam on a hot, close summer night. And the beat, beat, beat of her heart as he drew her up, drew her in. The world standing still, holding its breath in that magical instant before their first kiss.

The feel of tears, the hot flood of them as they’d gushed out of her shattered heart. He’d walked away so carelessly, left her broken and grieving as she stood by a pretty pool of early spring violets.

I’m not coming back.

With that one statement, he’d broken her to pieces.

Dreams floated in and out, and she with them. She saw herself standing in her summer garden, teaching Nell how to stir the air. She felt the joy of clasping hands, at last, with both of her sisters in a circle of unity and power.

She saw the soft colors and sweetness of Nell’s wedding, the bright promise of Ripley’s. She watched as they began yet another circle without her, as was meant to be.

And she was alone.

“Fate moves us, and then we choose.”

She stood on the cliffs now, with the one who was called Fire. Mia turned, looked into the face so like her own.

“I regret no choice I’ve made,” Mia said.

“Nor did I. Nor can I now.”

“To die for love is a poor choice.”

The one called Fire lifted her brows, and there was an innate arrogance in the gesture. In the night wind, her hair streamed like flames. “Yet it was mine. If I had chosen differently, daughter, perhaps you would not be here now. Would not be what you are. So I have no regrets. Will you say the same at the end of your time?”

“I cherish my gift and bring no harm. I live my life, and live it well.”