Legacy & Spellbound (57 page)

Eli pulled his athame from his belt. “Actually, Father, you will.”

Michael turned to look at him, surprise on his face. At that moment, Eli plunged the athame up under Michael's breastbone and into his heart. From the corner of his eye he saw James do the same to Sir William.

Michael tumbled to the ground, a look of astonishment on his face. Blood began to spill from his lips. They moved as though he was trying to speak.

Eli knelt beside him. “Why so surprised, Dad? You were the one who taught me to kill. You also taught me one other thing: ‘Do unto others before they do unto
you.'” He bent and kissed his father's brow before twisting the dagger and pulling it out.

In a moment, the light faded from Michael Deveraux's eyes and he was gone. A wave of power washed over Eli. It had belonged to his father, and now it belonged to him—not as his heir, but as his killer.

Eli stood shakily as a roaring sound began to fill the room. He looked up and saw James kneeling over the body of Sir William. The corpse shook and convulsed; Sir William's eyes bulging and then popping from their sockets. His chest expanded, contracted, then blasted outward. His skin slithered and steamed; and then, a hideous-looking demon clawed its way out of Sir William's chest, howling. Its form was black and leathery, and as it got free, its many-jointed, skeletal limbs began to unfold like collapsed metal rods. With a series of cracks and scraping noises, it unfolded itself until its furled, lizardlike head brushed the ceiling of the great chamber.

Its eyes were snakelike, yellowing and glowing, with a pinprick of darkness in the center. Its tongue was black and forked, and it flicked it once, twice, at James, who repelled the attack with fireballs, one of which lodged itself just beneath one of the monster's eyes, where it continued to burn, apparently unnoticed by the creature.

It roared, and then it flung back its head. Sir William's human laughter cannonaded out of it, making the walls shake. Then it hopped forward on massive, taloned feet, raced across the room in three steps, and disappeared into the far wall.

The skull throne cracked from top to bottom with the sounds of thousands of dying animals pouring from it and everyone stopped to stare.

Eli fingered his athame for a moment before hurling it at James. At the same moment, James threw his weapon. Eli fell, the dagger lodged in his shoulder. He turned his head slowly and saw James lying on the ground as well, his body draped over that of his father's ruined corpse.

Eli turned away.
Bastard
. Then, slowly, everything went dark.

Pandemonium broke out. Warlocks raced toward the fallen bodies of their leaders as Holly stood, mouth agape. She turned and glanced at Nicole. The other girl was white as a ghost, and her hand was pressed to her stomach. Then she began to totter, and Holly watched in horror as her cousin's knees buckled and she began to fall as though in slow motion.

Philippe threw himself forward, hitting the
ground beneath Nicole and reaching up to wrap his arms around her, cushioning her fall with his body. “She's going into labor,” he shouted.

Holly turned and stared toward the remnants of the skull throne. Those they had come to fight were dead, the Supreme Coven was in a shambles.
Time to go, to get out while we can,
she thought,
before they turn their attention to us.

Too late,
she realized almost instantly as several nearby warlocks launched a sudden volley of fireballs their way. She lifted her hands to spin a barrier, but before she could, a rushing wind filled the room, extinguishing the fireballs.

“Everyone out!” Alex boomed in a voice that rolled and echoed like thunder. He stood, the center of the windstorm, his eyes flashing like lightning.

Holly didn't have to hear the scream that issued from Nicole to agree that it was a good idea. Philippe and Armand picked up Nicole and, carrying her, set out at a run led by Richard.

Pablo, Tommy, and Amanda followed close on their heels. Jer stood, stock-still, a look of shock on his face as he stared toward the throne. Holly touched his shoulder.
What must he be feeling about his father's death? Joy, sorrow, both? Only he knows,
she thought. “Let's go,” she urged.

He let her lead him out of the room and into the passage. She could hear Alex as he brought up the rear behind them.

Getting out would prove harder than getting in, she soon realized. Demons crawled out of the walls. A strange sucking sound exploded around her, though, and the demons suddenly were trapped, pinned to the walls as though by some invisible force. She could feel a slight movement of air.

Wind,
she realized,
Alex is keeping them at bay, somehow.

As they raced through the seemingly endless tunnels, her thoughts flew ahead to where Nicole was. She could feel her pain; it rippled in waves off her, and her screams bounced off walls and ceiling and floors.
Nicole is strong, but none of us knows what to expect.

Then, suddenly, they were at the exit and they all burst up onto the street outside and into the fresh air. Alex slammed the door behind him, muttering a spell to bar the way.

Holly stood, gasping in the clean, crisp air and listening to the labored breathing of the others. The stench of death and decay still hung about her clothes and being, and she worried that all the showers in the world would not change that.

A cloud moved in the sky, and directly above them
the full moon burst into sight, shining down upon them.
Wind Moon and most of us are still here, praise the Goddess.

Back in the safe house, Holly felt as if an age had passed since they had left. Nicole lay in a bedroom upstairs, in the final stages of labor. Armand was tending her and had chased all the rest but Richard out with a worried look on her face.

I can't believe that it is over,
Holly thought.
Michael Deveraux is finally dead. I am free of him—we all are. It is done. I feel strangely robbed that he did not die by my hand, but relieved as well.

“It is not over,” Alex announced, standing and facing the group. “Michael Deveraux and the Supreme Coven were just the barest tip of the iceberg. There are thousands of covens, on this world and others, and not all of them worship as we do. For every Michael Deveraux who falls, there are a dozen who stand ready to take his place.”

And Sir William escaped,
Holly thought.

“Indeed he did,” Alex said, gazing at her. Then he said to the others, “I belong to the Temple of the Air. My coven and I have spent years fighting those who use the dark magic.”

“You mean, tonight, this was not new to you?” Amanda asked.

“Hardly,” he said, his face inscrutable. “I and others of the House of Cahors have fought many battles in the name of good and light.”

“Other Cahors?” Holly asked, astonished. “But we—”

He nodded. “We four here are not the only descendants of House Cahors. There are many, many more, and we are all fighting to bring the covens together, to lead Coventry into a new era of peace.”

“You didn't tell Luna any of this,” Amanda accused him. “You let her think you were ignorant of your heritage.”

“Yes, I did,” he said. “The Mother Coven is weak. I have no use for them.”

“I have a lot of experience with people who want ‘to lead Coventry,' none of it good,” Jer flung at him.

“Your experience all comes from the dark side of magic,” Alex retorted, and it was clear that no love had been gained between the two of them. “Join us and help bring light. You can atone for your family's evil.”

“I don't think so,” Jer said. “Not that way.”

“The Supreme Coven and the Mother Coven are both just two covens in a much larger world. The time for age-old battles is past. Covens need not fight each other. Houses need not fight each other,” Alex said
pointedly. “Not even yours and mine,” he added, looking straight at Jer.

“I'm tired of fighting,” Holly said quietly. “But I can't allow others like Michael Deveraux to roam free, killing all those in their path.”

“You would be welcome in our coven, Holly,” Alex said, pinning her with his gaze. “You have lost so much in this battle, and you have become so hard. You don't need to stay that way, though. We can help you. We can restore your faith.”

Suddenly there were tears streaming down Holly's face. She
was
hard inside; her heart was a piece of flint. And yet … tears. They were magical, a miracle. “Is such a thing even possible?” she found herself asking.

Alex came and sat beside her. He picked up her hand and stared into her eyes, and she felt his heat, and his strength. His power.

“It
is
possible, Holly. We can help you, and you in turn can help us. You could be my High Priestess, and I will be your Long Arm of the Law. Together, we could lead with strength and mercy. Imagine what we could accomplish
together.
”

And as he said that, she knew what he meant by the last word.
Together.
She broke his gaze and turned to Jer.

He locked gazes with her and for a moment, one
single instant, she saw … something. And then it was gone—extinguished or hidden, she couldn't say which.

Jer shook his head bitterly.

And Holly's heart hardened again.

Alex was still holding her hand. Warmth suffused her skin, and where the heat traveled, feeling returned to her. Alex was offering her something that Jer couldn't—or, more accurately, wouldn't.

Alex released his hand and stood. Holly could feel the weight of Amanda's stare on her, but she wasn't quite yet ready to meet her cousin's eyes.

When Amanda spoke, though, it was directed at the group at large. “We've done our bit for Coventry; we've fought our battle. Tommy and I need time to rest, to just be together. And I'll be honest, I don't know if we'll ever be ready to go back to fighting again.”

Holly risked a glance at her. Amanda sat, arm entwined with Tommy, who was nodding agreement.
They are so close, so in love. What would it be like to have the kind of bond that they do?
She glanced again at Jer.
If I wait for him, I may never know.

“I understand,” Alex said. “Nicole should also stay behind. She has a baby to raise—a very special baby, unless I miss my guess.”

Holly cocked her head to the side, wondering what
he meant by that. He didn't elaborate, and she knew that now was not the time to press him.

Philippe cleared his throat. “The survivors of the Spanish Coven wish to join yours.”

“But your heart is torn,” Alex answered.

Philippe nodded. “I wish to fight with you as well, but I must be with Nicole.”

“Then you have a choice to make, for you cannot do both,” Alex said.

“I'm going out,” Jer announced abruptly, grabbing a coat and heading for the door.

Holly watched him go with an aching in her heart.

Everyone was silent for a moment. Holly heard her heart beating; it was a sound so foreign that she wondered if it had actually stopped for a while... ever since she had sacrificed Nicole's first familiar, Bast …

“So, Holly of the Cahors, what will you do?” Alex asked her.

She looked at him and felt a blush mounting her cheeks. She loved Jer, but he was damaged. He had worshiped the darkness for so long that his soul was more deeply scarred than his body.

Then again, so is mine.

She looked at Alex. His straightforwardness was refreshing, and he was offering her a chance for healing,
a relationship with one who worshiped as she did and a place in the battle against evil.

His face shone with an unnatural beauty, and she knew that it would be easy to say “yes” and go with him. She was tired of fighting losing battles, and it felt good to know she could be on the winning side. She glanced at Pablo and Armand. She trusted them both, and they were going with Alex.
I won't have to be alone.
She looked in Alex's eyes and realized she would never be alone again.

He extended his hand to her.

Anne-Louise Montrachet had been gone a long time, her body still, but her spirit seeking the answers to so many questions. Whisper, the cat, walked slowly around her, careful not to tread a paw on her. The woman should be coming back soon, with answers to old questions and more new questions than she would be able to count.

At last Whisper walked gingerly up onto Anne-Louise's chest. Slowly, the cat sat down, an Egyptian Goddess waiting for her tribute.

Then, with a gasp, Anne-Louise awoke, eyes flying open, body twitching. Blood began to appear oozing from wounds that seemed to spring up in the witch's flesh as if by magic.

Anne-Louise looked wildly around for a moment before bringing her eyes to bear on Whisper. “You?” she asked.

The cat dipped its head in acknowledgment.

“We must get to the others, warn them,” Anne-Louise gasped. “We need to tell them
that's not Alex Carruthers