The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (16 page)

The last Shanka demon was sucked through the opening.

Her mum looked at her, one final time, and beamed with joy, even as tears fell down her cheeks. “I'm
so
proud of you, Elena.”
 

And then her body was jerked backwards through the eye of the portal, it closed down on itself, and both portal and witch were gone.

Elena turned away, beside herself, and sobbed into Karl's chest.

Everyone grouped together in shock, not knowing what to do or say next … until Pueblo's strained voice broke through the silence. “Where's Amy?”

All eyes fell to the spot where her and Etienne had been. Her blood stained the ground. Neither of them were anywhere to be seen.

“He's got her,” said Pueblo. “He's taken her … somewhere protected. I can't sense her.”
 

Mary placed a hand on his shoulder. “We'll find her … but we all need to rest.”

He nodded, his face grim. “You all rest. I'm going to start searching now.” And he dematerialised.

“Mary, can we all use your flat to regroup?” asked Karl.
 

She nodded, and the four of them, too tired to travel by any other means, and looking like the cast from a B-horror movie set, walked eastwards towards the now rising sun, and towards the gates that would lead them out of Hyde Park.

Epilogue

The rest of the week went by very slowly. Despite them all having so much to come to terms with, they were also mourning the two souls that they'd lost.

Pueblo had made it his personal mission to search for Amy – he spent every waking hour looking for a clue as to her whereabouts. Unfortunately, every clue he found led to a dead end.

They couldn't all stay at Mary's house, so Karl and Elena had moved into Karl's parents' house, which had been empty for little over a month since the last tenants moved out.

Mary had all but forced Elena to take the week off work, to which she had no choice because her skin was still cracked and her eyes were still bright green. But Elena had another problem. She was now fully awakened to her succubus Shanka half … and it was hungry. So Karl had phoned John, his second in command at the shop, and arranged to have the week off as well. They both spent most of their days naked, Elena needing satiating at least every four hours.

Needless to say, she was reluctant to even go near Karl again after what she had done to him, but her demon's needs couldn't be ignored, and won out each time. Besides, he was an angel now – something which blew her away, but at the same time seemed to make perfect sense.  His angel half could handle her succubus half, for which her very hungry, newling succubus half was grateful. Every time they made love, he glowed gold light – he didn't mean to, it just happened. “Love,” Gwain had said, as a way of explanation, and that was all he'd said.

Karl's light kept her shadow back, and her succubus from losing control. It also gave her super-powerful orgasms – something else for which her succubus half was grateful. In fact, Elena was pretty damn sure her succubus was as much in love with Karl's angel, as their two human halves were.

Now lying, curled up in his arms on the living room floor, she took one of those rare moments, where she allowed all thoughts to fly out of her head, so she could solely concentrate on how wonderful it felt to be with him. The moments never lasted long – merely seconds – because guilt always crept in to rule her heart.

“Karl?”
 

“Mmmm?”
 

“I need to get her back.”
 

She felt his arms stiffen around her.

“I know you won't want me to go, but I can't leave her there; I just can't.”
 

“I know, darling … I know. I'll go with you. We'll see if Gwain can, too.”
 

She nodded her thanks.

“It should have been me.”
 

“Sshhh...”
 

“I don't understand how you can all forgive me, after everything that I've done, everything I put you through...”
 

“Well, I'm not sure Pueblo
has
forgiven you … but you'll always have my forgiveness,” he said softly.
 

She squeezed his hand in silent thanks. “I wonder where Amy is … what Etienne's doing to her.”

“I know.”
 

“My father was a demon; my grandfather's crazy … no wonder I lost it. I think I'm totally fucked up sometimes.”
 

“Look at your skin, Elena.”
 

She looked down.

“See? The cracks are disappearing, and your colour's coming back.”
 

It was true. They had noticed that the more contact she had with Karl's glowing self, the less demon she became.

“Just a few more days, I reckon, before you look like your old self. You're not fucked up – you've just had a lot to take in all at once. What you learned about yourself – how it all happened – it would send anyone around the bend.”
 

“What about you? You're an
angel.
”
 

He laughed. “Outrageous, isn't it?”

“Actually, I think it makes perfect sense. I've always teased you about being saintly.”
 

“And I teased you about becoming a wanton harlot – guess we were both right.”
 

“Hey!” She elbowed him in the stomach, which earned her a small groan, then she turned to face him.
 

“What happens to the witching pen now?”
 

“I'm not sure. Gwain's told me next to nothing – just that the angels created it, which is why I've been able to hold it, and that it was going to help save you. I don't remember seeing him use it, and as far as I know, he still has it – he can keep it as far as I'm concerned.”
 

She nodded. She didn't much care if she never saw it again, but something told her that wouldn't be the case.

She cuddled up closer to him. “So … what d'you wanna do now?” she asked, coyly.

Amusement crossed his features. “Don't tell me you're ready to go again?”

“Of course I am.”
 

“Well, I'm spent.”
 

“Liar – you're glowing already.”
 

“Damn glow … hey, wanna see something cool?”
 

“Always.”
 

He rolled her on her back, and lay on top of her. “I learned how to do it today … Ready?”

She nodded.

Wings erupted from his back.

She squealed in delight! “Oh, my … they're beautiful!”

She meant it. They were enormous, the feathers mostly white, but they shimmered a light blue whenever the light caught them.

He stretched them full, and she gasped. They reached from one end of the living room to another.

There was a crash as he knocked something over.

“Oh,” he grimaced. “That better not have been the Byzantine vase.”
 

Elena was in awe, still staring.

“You like?”
 

“Oh yes.”
 

“I can't wait to learn how to fly – I can't wait to take you flying,” he smiled.
 

“In the meantime...” She shifted beneath him, rubbing her body against his.
 

He leaned down and kissed her, pulling his wings back in.

“No,” she whispered. “Leave them out … please.”
 

“Kinky.”
 

She laughed. “You've seen all of my demon – I want to see all of your angel.”

He rubbed her nose with his.

Her mind flashed back to Saturday night, when he'd done the same thing, both of them lying on the couch of their now ruined flat. Had that only been six days ago?

Guilt rode her once again, as she suddenly thought of that poor man who had lived in the basement flat. Another death she was responsible for … she'd only spoken to him a couple of times...

Then she found herself wrapped up in Karl's glow, it washing away any dark feeling harbouring within her.

“All of me belongs to you Elena – it always has.”
 

Her eyes welled up and he kissed her again.

Elena looked up at his wings, thought of that butterfly once more, and smiled.

~*~

She stood in the middle of the desert, shivering. It was so cold – she couldn't believe how cold it was, and she wondered why it was, because the sun was beating down on her. She should have been sweating and blistering, not trying to fight off hypothermia.

Instinctively, she looked for what she knew would keep her warm. Where was it? Where was it when she needed it? And then she caught sight of the huge, black cat, its coat wondrous, and glossy like silk; its eyes yellow and strong.

“Hey,” she called out, softly, extending her hand. If she could just touch it, if she could just hold it, she'd be warm, and she'd be safe … and she wouldn't be alone anymore.
 

“Here, kitty.”
 

The panther's tongue lolled out, as if it was pleased to see her, its amber eyes glinting in the sunlight.

It was so close now...

And then the snow leopard attacked. She screamed at the panther to get away, but she was too late, and the leopard landed on its back, claws and teeth ripping. Blood matted both their coats, and she sat frozen to the spot. She'd always be cold now – if the panther died, she'd always be cold.

The leopard turned towards her, leaving the panther writhing on the sand in pain. She wanted to reach it, hold it, but her shivering was uncontrollable and prevented any steady movement. The leopard stood over her now, emitting no warmth, and looking hungry.

Maybe it's going to eat me,
she thought.
 

Instead it sniffed at her neck, rolled its tongue out and licked her face. She would have thought it was an act of care if she hadn't felt so cold; nevertheless, she was surprised. She reached out as slowly as she could. Maybe she could trust it … maybe—

It slashed her arm with its claw, and she screamed, staring in horror at the bleeding gash on her wrist.

Then the leopard jumped on her with its huge paws, pushing her backwards onto the sand. It towered over her, baring its teeth...

Oh, my God … it
is
going to eat me...
 

She awoke from the same nightmare for the third night in a row, her sheets damp and twisted around her waist, a scream lodged in her throat, tears matting her hair to her face.

She struggled for breath, taking a while to realise she wasn't stranded out in some desert, but here, in this room – this room she didn't know. She had no recollection of anything, no memory of who she was, what she did – she hadn't even remembered what she looked like until she'd seen herself in the mirror, for what may as well have been the first time, just three days ago. She winced slightly, as pain made itself known to her, and realised she was clutching at her wounded wrist. It had bled a little again, a bit of red seeping through the bandages. She had been told, she tried to commit suicide. She wished she could remember.

She scrambled off the bed and looked in the mirror again, hoping desperately to jog some kind of memory, anything familiar, anything at all...

There was nothing.

The odd thing was, in the dream, she always seemed to know who she was – she could never get at her name, but she knew who she was within herself. She had a life and a purpose, and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it had to do with the black panther. Somehow, that cat existed in real life, and she had to find it.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she croaked out.
 

A head of dark brown hair appeared between the door and frame.

“Are you all right? I heard movement.”
 

“Paul … I'm fine, thank you.”
 

He came in anyway … which irritated her a little.

“Are you sure? You're still healing...”
 

“It was just a bad dream.”
 

“The same one as before?”
 

She sighed, wishing she'd never told him about the nightmare the first time she'd had it. But he was all she knew now. Her first memory of this new life, which may as well be her first memory ever, was Paul. The man who had found her three days ago, and saved her from killing herself.

“I … I'm sorry, Paul, I just don't really want to talk about it.”
 

“Of course, Elizabeth, I understand.”
 

Elizabeth. Really?

The name sounded so foreign to her. He'd told her that was her name. Paul was, apparently, her husband. But the name sounded wrong, it felt wrong that she was married, and the ring weighing down her finger also felt wrong.

To Paul's credit, he'd given her her own room and left her to her own devices. Thank God. She wasn't ready to get personal with someone she couldn't remember.

“Thanks for checking, though,” she smiled.