Magick Rising (54 page)

do some preparation for the ritual and make some soaps and lotions to fill

an order for a client down in Woodland Park.”

So that’s what all those dried herbs and flowers were for. He’d

wondered how she made a living, isolated as she was up here. And if she was

going to help him, he had to live up to his part of the bargain and help her.

“Before you do that, can you show me what needs fixing? I’ll see what you

need then get supplies in town.”

She showed him around, pointing out the sagging porch, the broken

window, the deadfall in the landscape, and other needed repairs. He also

suspected she’d need a ramp eventually, widened doorways, maybe grab

bars near the tub and toilet, if she chose to remain here after she required a

wheelchair.

Her courage in the face of her illness humbled him, made him want to

do as much to make her life easier as possible, regardless of whether she was

able to help him or not. He just hoped he’d be able to do enough before his

own disease became terminal.

BETH WORKED ON her soaps and bath oils the rest of the day. Though

she normally found peace in the simple tasks, today she felt a little uneasy

each time she thought about what Duncan represented and the ritual she

planned. But, to his credit, Duncan stayed out of her way. He picked up

some supplies in Woodland Park then set to work repairing the porch.

Though he tried hard to be unobtrusive, she was still constantly aware

of him, of his presence filling up her home, her sanctuary. The ritual would

be a good thing, she tried to assure herself. The sooner she could help him,

the sooner she could send him on his way. Especially since she didn’t care

for the way she was reacting to him.

She found herself sneaking peeks at him all day long. She tried to tell

herself she was looking for signs of wolfishness, but that excuse wouldn’t

wash. Not when her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders and strong

forearms. Not when her fingers longed to touch the softness of his flannel

shirt, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath the material. And definitely not

when her treacherous thoughts wondered what it would be like to be held in

those strong arms, kissed by that hard mouth.

And when he thought she didn’t notice, he watched her, too. His dark,

enigmatic gaze ought to have frightened her, sent her scurrying for cover.

Instead, she felt drawn to him.

Over dinner, Beth caught herself daydreaming about what it would be

like to make love to him and chastised herself. The man was either insane or

a werewolf. In either case, he wasn’t a good prospect for a lover. Her

undeniable attraction was just the result of being without intimacy for a long

time and the allure of taming a bad boy. The temptation of forbidden fruit,

that was all.

She concentrated on finishing her dinner, then he helped her clean the

dishes. Wiping her hands on the dishcloth, she said, “I need to cleanse

myself and the room to prepare for the ritual. Maybe you can—”

“I’d like to stay,” he said, interrupting her. Her eyes widened at his

boldness, and he added quickly, “To watch the ritual, I mean. Not to

watch . . . Just the ritual. That’s what I’d like to see.”

Oh. She felt foolish, not to mention reluctant. Beth was a solitary

practitioner, by choice. She didn’t like others watching her private

ceremonies. But she had to admit he had a good reason for being there, and

it might not be a bad idea to have such a strong personality present when

Lupa appeared.

If
Lupa appeared. “All right,” Beth agreed reluctantly. “But you’ll have

to do exactly as I say.”

“Of course.”

Beth took a bath first, purifying herself and clearing her thoughts to

ready herself for the coming ordeal. She had performed many rituals for

healing and other simple requests, but they were usually to the kinder,

gentler gods and goddesses. She’d never dared to make a request of one so

primeval, and she wasn’t certain how it would go.

But still, she managed to achieve some serenity. Stepping from the

bathtub, she freed her hair from its braid then slipped a midnight blue caftan

over her bare skin. Eschewing undergarments and other clothing, she felt

free of earthly constraints and ready to receive the goddess.

As Duncan showered, she prepared the room. Once it was ready,

Duncan appeared, clad in jeans and a T-shirt. Not exactly proper attire, but

it would have to do.

As he hesitated in the doorway, she said, “Please, come in.”

He did so, staring around curiously at the unadorned room, his gaze

coming to rest on the altar at the center. It was a simple table covered with a

dark cloth. Upon it lay refreshments and her magickal tools—glowing

candles, a small cauldron, a chalice, her wand, a knife, a bowl, and a small

dagger, her athame.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, his gaze lingering on the knife

and dagger.

“First, I’ll cast a circle, then I’ll call on Lupa and ask for her help. You

don’t need to do anything but stay still. Once I’ve cast the circle, don’t leave

until I tell you it’s all right, or you’ll have one heck of a headache. Do you

understand?”

“It sounds simple enough.” He glanced at her, his eyes full of doubt.

“Do you think this will work?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “The gods and goddesses come

at their whim, not ours. But I can say it is likely tonight. The new moon is an

excellent time for ending old ways and beginning new ones.”

“No, I mean . . . do you think She will know of a cure?”

“I have no idea. We won’t know until we ask. Are you ready?”

He nodded, and she positioned him in a chair near the altar, more to

keep him in place than to make him comfortable. Closing her eyes, she

grounded and centered herself. Once that was complete, she opened her

eyes and picked up the athame and traced a protective circle in the air about

them. Then, calmly, she called the quarters and elements.

For this calling, she needed power. Quietly, she sang the names of the

goddesses, over and over again, feeling the magick grow within her. When it

was at its peak, she cried, “Lupa, Goddess of Wolves, ancient and wise,

please aid this man in his quest.”

As an offering to this goddess, Beth knew the only acceptable coin

would be her own blood. Drawing the knife from the altar, she pricked her

finger and let the red fluid drip into the bowl.

She almost hoped her plea would go unanswered, but she soon felt a

presence. Strong, feral, terrifying . . .
Lupa
. It could be no other.

A husky feminine voice growled into her mind.
Do you wish to help this

man?

“I do,” Beth said, proud that her voice didn’t waver.

She felt the presence prowl around her, measuring her.
Such an unworthy

vessel,
Lupa dismissed her contemptuously.
But you are wise to come to Me. The

man is mine.

Beth’s heart beat faster. “I have freely given an offering. Will You help

him?”

Yes,
Lupa growled.
But for this, you must surrender yourself to Me.

Without asking for permission or waiting for Beth’s response, the

Goddess of Wolves flowed into Beth as if pouring Herself into an empty

chalice. Lupa’s power and strength filled Beth’s entire being, making her

gasp in surprise. Suddenly, she felt healthy, vitally alive, and incredibly

sexual. But though she and Lupa were as one, there was no question who

was in charge here.

Lupa looked at the man before them through Beth’s eyes, and her lips

curved in a predatory smile. He was a very worthy specimen. She circled

him, trailing her hands across his shoulders, letting Her gaze caress his fine

form.

Duncan’s eyes widened. “Beth?”

“No,” Beth heard herself say in Lupa’s husky growl. “It is your

Goddess.” She halted, facing him with a challenge as she laid Her hands on

his shoulders and caressed them. “What would you have of me?”

Duncan regarded her uneasily, and Beth felt Lupa’s satisfaction at his

discomfort. All was as it should be. She was the ultimate alpha bitch, and he

was a mere male.

“I want to be free of this curse,” Duncan said. Though she could scent

his nervousness, no trace of it showed upon his face or in his voice.

“What curse?” Lupa asked as Her hands explored his broad chest. “I

sense none.”

Tersely, Duncan said, “The lycanthropy.”

She laughed softly and caressed his face. “No, man-wolf. That is not a

curse, it is a blessing. You are mine now, and I shall not let you go. You are

too great a prize.”

Anger flashed in his eyes and hardened his jaw. “You won’t have me

willingly.”

She straddled his waist, settling intimately against him as She twined

Her arms about his neck. “Shall I not?” She breathed into his ear. Then

licked it slowly, seductively.

Sexual heat flared between them, hot and fast. But, through Lupa, Beth

could feel Duncan fight it. He grabbed Her hands and held them away from

his face. “No.”

Anger stirred within Beth-Lupa as She jerked her hands free of his hold.

“Then I shall give you a bit of advice, man-wolf. And a boon . . . if you are

strong and wise enough to take it.”

He held on to her waist now, neither pushing Her away or pulling Her

closer. “What?” he asked, apprehension clear in his voice.

She grasped his face in both hands, locking gazes with him. “Heed Me

well. You must become the alpha you were meant to be by the third night of

the next full moon. You must surrender yourself to Me.” She chuckled low.

“Completely.” And with a slow, sensuous movement, She licked him from

chin to eyebrow.

He thrust her away. “Forget it,” he declared, wiping his face with the

back of his hand. “I won’t do that.”

“Is that so?” Lupa said in a low, dangerous tone. “If you don’t, you will

die.”

Abruptly, She was gone, and Beth collapsed to the floor like a deflated

balloon. Feeling shaky, weak, and only half-alive now that Lupa had

withdrawn her vitality, Beth tried to regain her composure.

Though Lupa’s strength had made her feel healthy and invincible for a

precious few moments, it was a false vigor, one that could never be Beth’s

permanently. And though the lure of repeating the experience was very

strong, she knew she had to resist the temptation. Otherwise, the thrill of

feeling strong and healthy would be like a drug that would steal away her

soul.

“Beth?” he asked uncertainly. “Is that you?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t manage any more than that. But as he helped her to

her feet, she said, “Just . . . give me a minute.”

The crackers and cider she had set aside helped to restore her

composure, though she still felt some lingering embarrassment about how

Lupa had used her body so suggestively. She offered Duncan the chalice

with a shaky hand, saying, “Blessed be.” If anyone needed a blessing, he did.

ANGUISH FILLED Duncan. He should have known better than to hope.

“So,” Beth said. “You have your answer.”

“Yes. There is no cure, and I’m going to die.” Far from being the

healing he’d hoped for, he’d received a death sentence instead.

Beth regarded him in surprise. “Is that all you heard?”

“What, besides the come-on?”

Though Beth blushed, he knew she hadn’t been the one in control of

her body. The being who had oozed around him like a bitch in heat was

someone else—some
thing
else—entirely. He’d seen so many odd things in

his search for a cure that he thought he was open-minded enough to accept

anything. But Lupa’s possession of Beth’s body still left him uneasy. “I’m

sorry,” he said. “I know that wasn’t you.” In fact, that presence was eerily

familiar—he’d experienced it in his dreams.

Beth shook her head, looking embarrassed. “No, I mean She said more

than that. She said it’s possible you won’t die, if you become fully alpha.”

Just like in his dreams. “Only by surrendering to her, becoming a wolf

forever.” And that was unacceptable.

“You’d rather die?”

He gave her a cold look, trying to erase the all too seductive concern

from her expression. “I die a little each time I change from a man into a

monster,” he said in harsh tones, trying to make her understand. “Do you

have any idea what it’s like to wake up in the morning with no knowledge of

what you’ve done the night before? Knowing only that it’s bestial and

savage?”

She looked shocked. “You mean, you don’t know what you’ve done as

a wolf?”

“No.” He didn’t want to know. Bluntly, he added, “All I know is that

during the first few months as a werewolf, I woke with blood on my face

and hands.” He speared her with a savage glare. “I have no way of knowing

if it was the blood of a rabbit . . . or a man.” And he had refused to listen to