A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray

Chapter 20

Willow

My mind racedas I headed toward home. None of this made sense. Someone had hexed my sister and me. There were malevolent spirits loose—on a killing spree—and those spirits had something to do with the task the mother had set me. And now Clayton’s mom had been brutally attacked and murdered, her injuries identical to the ones inflicted on Mags.

What the fuck was going on? It wasn’t just us being targeted now, but the Whitlocks as well? I didn’t see the connection.

Sally’s face flashed through my mind, and I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I needed answers, something, anything. I didn’t know who was behind the attack on Mags, or Olive’s murder. I also didn’t know who was responsible for letting the spirits loose. The list of shit I didn’t know was fucking ridiculous, but what I did know was both involved using the darkest, most twisted kind of magic there was.

And I was willing to do anything for even the smallest clue at this point.

The closest I’d come was that dream while I was at Warrick’s den. If I could just see who was behind that cloak. If I could go back to that dream state and instead of giving into the fear, tear away that cloak, I’d see who was behind trying to hurt us, I was positive.

So when I reached the next crossroads, instead of heading for home, I turned toward Shadow Falls. Warrick turned as well, following me. I was sure he was fuming and wanted to tell me to go home, but you couldn’t use a phone while riding a motorcycle, lucky for me.

I needed him with me for this, anyway, someone to watch over me while I was under.

Thirty minutes later, I pulled the Morris off to the side of the road and parked. Warrick rolled in behind me a second later and was kicking down the stand of his bike when I climbed out of my truck. By the look on his face, he was still brooding.

Awesome.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” he said, striding toward me.

I planted my hands on my hips. “You’re not going to like this, but I’m going to need you to suck it up and trust me, okay?”

“You know I fucking trust you, but if I’m not going to like it, that means you’re about to do something that could get you hurt. I’m not cool with that.”

I smiled up at him and was sure it looked as strained as it felt. “That’s why you’re here, alpha. To protect me.”

His eyes narrowed, not buying it.

I slung my satchel over my head and started toward the trail. “I’ll explain while we walk.”

“Where are we going?” he asked as we hit the rocky path.

“A place called Shadow Falls.” I glanced up at him. “There’s a reason this place is free of demons and other creatures that might try to attack us, and why the land looks so barren…can you feel it?” Very little grew here, and when it did, it didn’t last long. There were ancient trees that had managed it, but just as many that didn’t and were gray, spindly, dry shells.

His wide shoulders bunched, the muscles in his arms flexing as he tilted his head back and scented the air. When he looked down at me, his eyes had changed color. They were red. “What the fuck is that?”

A shiver slithered through me, because the deeper we went and the closer we got to the falls, the more I felt it. “The falls have been used as a burial ground for centuries. It’s where witches who have gone bad go, the ones who turned to dark magic. They’re placed there when they die. Their families, their covens, don’t want them in their cemeteries because they’d sour the soul and taint the magic. So their families bring them here.”

His hand came down on my shoulder, stopping me. “I don’t fucking like this. Why are you here?”

“Because whoever is behind all of this is using magic that is forbidden. The night I stayed with you, that bad dream…it wasn’t just a dream, it was a vision, I’m sure of it. I need to go back there, to that place in my mind. It’s called shadow seeking, and I can only do it here at the falls.”

His brows lowered, and he planted his hands on his hips. “How dangerous is this?”

I bit my lip.

“Willow.”

“As dangerous as you can get.” There was no point lying. He needed to know, because it would be him stopping things if the worst-case scenario was about to happen. “If I’m under too long, I might never wake up again. The shadows can claim you, confuse you.”

He cursed viciously, his fingers flexing against my shoulder. “And you’re sure you can get answers doing this?”

“Yes, but timing is everything.” I winced. “Only there’s no way for you to know what’s happening while I’m under, and the things that are happening to me there can affect my body here. So basically, if I appear to be under serious distress, it’s probably best to wake me, otherwise, you need to let it play out, but no longer than around thirty minutes. The longer I’m there, the harder it will become for me to distinguish the vision I’m in from the real world. Witches have been known to stay in their visions, not realizing that’s what they are, until they eventually die of old age. Others stay too long and can’t get back or are killed by whatever sent them shadow seeking in the first place.”

“That’s too big a risk,” he bit out.

“That’s why you’re here. You won’t let me get lost there, right? Which means there’s nothing to worry about.” I started to walk again, and he cursed some more.

I almost expected him to physically stop me from going through with this, to pick me up and carry me back. He didn’t. Warrick did trust me, and he respected me. No matter how much he hated what I was about to do, he believed in my abilities, and that meant something.

The sound of the falls reached us long before we saw them, growing louder as we walked.

Finally, we rounded the path and there they were. Furious white foam exploded high from a rocky outcropping, a torrent of fury forced down into the blue water below before snaking away through the barren land poisoned by dark magic.

I pushed forward when everything in me wanted to turn around and run the other way. The evil surrounding this place was so thick it was stifling. Warrick had to feel it, too, but he said nothing and kept following me.

The water came down with such velocity that it was hard to see the gap behind the falls themselves. But there was a cave hidden behind all that water, and I walked along the rocky path, a narrow lip in the rock that led to the cave. It was cold and loud, the water a moving wall between us and where we’d just come from. It felt like a different world in here.

I turned slowly as Warrick closed the space between us.

“Christ,” he said, taking in the stone walls.

The witches who were brought here were wrapped and placed on ledges dug out of the wall itself like ancient bunk beds. Their dark magic pulsed around us, drenching the small space. I didn’t know how deep it went, the darkness seemed to swallow the cave, hiding its secrets. I didn’t want to uncover them. I had no need to.

I could do what I needed to right here.

“Now what?” Warrick asked.

He was so close to me his body brushed against mine as if he were afraid to put distance between us, like he thought I was about to be snatched away.

I lifted off my satchel and moved to a small, raised dais, placing my knife on the white stone. “A blood spell, and I need to lie here while I do it.” There was no missing the blood already staining the stone. Blood from the witches laid to rest here and witches who had come to this place like me—some for good, some for not so good, purposes. I didn’t let myself think about that either.

I stripped quickly and set my clothes by my bag on the floor and climbed up. The stone was rough and cold, hard against my bare skin. Warrick watched me do this, jaw tight, eyes flickering like there were flames dancing there.

“Why the fuck are you naked again?”

There was no hiding how much he didn’t like this. “Because that way you’ll see any injuries that I get in the dream state. Only wake me if it looks serious.” Visions of the dream I’d had flashed through my mind, my sisters, all of them dead. How real it’d felt. “I might scream and thrash. Ignore it. Ignore any bruises that might appear on my skin as well. Broken bones, blood, that’s the only reason to wake me.”

He bit out several words in that coarse language I’d heard him use when he was talking to Maddox. I assumed it was more cursing.

“How do I wake you?”

“Lift me off the dais and I’ll be dragged back. Ready?” I asked.

His jaw tightened. “No.”

“It’s going to be fine. Just don’t let me stay under longer than thirty minutes.”

He didn’t answer with words, just dipped his chin, his expression carved in stone. My blade was gripped in my hand, and I made a long but fairly shallow cut along my forearm and watched as the blood bubbled to the surface then slid down to pool on the stone. The dais warmed under me almost instantly. I handed the knife to Warrick and closed my eyes.

“Crones of Shadow Falls, I offer you this gift of mortal blood from coven Thornheart. In return I ask that you take me into the shadows of my mind and help me seek the ones who would harm me and mine.”

I repeated the words over and over. The stone beneath me grew hotter, and the dais began to vibrate beneath as if the ancient rock hummed. A rumbling sound reverberated through the space, and shadows gathered at the edges of my mind, closing in more and more until I was surrounded by the kind of darkness I never knew existed. So black and cold and dense, there was no way of knowing up from down.

I was suspended in nothingness, in horror, in fear. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out, then the crone’s hands, so many hands covered my mouth, my eyes, tugged at my hair, pulled on my arms, my legs.

They were going to kill me, they were going to—

Something cool brushed my feet.

The hands released me, vanished.

I blinked several times. Home. I was home again, laying in the grass. I got to my feet. The cemetery. Mom was with Art, weeding the herb garden. Else, Mags, and Rose sat in the long grass, Roe’s cheeks pink, smiling, laughing at something Iris said. Bram sat on a headstone, in bird form, Nia lying beside them. I smiled, warmth filling me, and went to join them.

A small yipping sound had me turning.

A large, orange fox stood just beyond the edge of the cemetery. My fox, my Renny. “Ren!” I waved, overjoyed to see him. I couldn’t remember why, but I’d missed him. He’d been somewhere far away from me.

He didn’t move, and there was a strange shadow beside him that grew darker. I didn’t like it. I wanted Ren away from it.

I waved him forward and headed toward him, but the closer I got, the more different he looked. His soft fur was matted with something, something rusty colored. His gold eyes were black, hollow.

“Ren?”

He shifted forms, and I stumbled to a stop. His body was scarred with cuts and burns and smeared with blood. My gaze darted up to his face. His lips were peeled back, hatred radiating from him. His eyes changed back to gold, the whites bloodshot.

“You did this. This is your fault,” he said, his voice moving over me like broken glass.

I winced at the hatred directed at me, the loathing I heard in his words. He hated me. Why did he hate me? Why? It was there in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t reach it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reach it.

The shadow curled around him, and he lifted a knife, pressing it to his own throat.

“Ren! No!” I ran for him.

He jerked his hand, slashing through his skin, blood rushing from the long slice. I screamed and ran toward him. He dropped the blade and clutched his throat with one hand and reached for me with the other. I ran faster, but I couldn’t reach him, he kept getting farther and farther away.

Finally, he fell to the ground, still, lifeless. I dropped to my knees and screamed as pain like nothing I’d ever felt lashed through me.

Someone called my name, and I lifted my head. Three figures dressed in black hooded cloaks stood before me. Each held a bloody knife in one hand, then as one, they lifted the other hand, each dangling one of my sisters’ severed heads. That’s when I realized I was still screaming, my throat raw, the taste of blood in my mouth.

I scrambled back, running for Mom and Else, Art. The hooded figures weren’t behind me anymore, they stood instead before the rest of my family. They raised their knives and slashed without a moment’s hesitation, killing them too. “No!”

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“One by one,” three voices said together, echoing through my mind.

Warrick was suddenly there, and he ran toward them with a roar. They jumped on him, hacking at him with their knives, tearing him apart. No…oh god, no.

Then they were right there in front of me, bloody knives in hand. I tried to run, but my limbs were suddenly weighted down. I couldn’t move.

Why was I even trying? I stopped. I didn’t scream, not anymore.

They could do what they wanted to me. I had no reason left to fight.

I had nothing left.

No one.

The strange shadow floated closer, slowly solidifying as it did.

A face took shape…

That face. A face that still haunted my dreams.

Huge shadow wings unfolded behind him.

“Hello, witch,” the monster said. “We have some unfinished business, do we not?”

“Azel,” I whispered.

* * *

Warrick

I gripped the edge of the dais, teeth gritted as my dove writhed. She’d stopped screaming, but the tears she’d been crying still dampened her cheeks.

I couldn’t fucking watch her like this. A feeling inside me I’d never felt before expanded in my chest, knocking the fucking wind from my lungs. I didn’t know what it was, only that it made me want to snatch Willow up and run with her, far away, and never let anyone hurt or scare her ever again.

A shadow appeared on her shoulder then bloomed into a dark bruise. I growled, the vicious sound bouncing off the walls around me. Fuck this. I wasn’t going to stand here and watch while someone hurt her, wherever the fuck she was.

I searched her body frantically for more signs of damage—

A drop of blood appeared at the side of her throat, then trailed down. Suddenly it was an inch long, and I snatched her up, shaking the fuck out of her. “Willow,” I roared. “Dove, wake up.”

The slice in her skin had stopped, not going any farther, thank fuck.

I held her to me tight, too tight, but I couldn’t help it. She blinked, but she didn’t see me, her gaze lost, fuck, even the green of her eyes was dimmer. She was still lost in the shadows of her mind. In whatever Hell she’d just been in. Her body shook, and the tears were renewed, falling silently down her face.

“Dove,” I choked out and pressed my forehead to hers. “Fight it. Fucking fight it, Willow.” She stared blindly up at me, still lost somewhere I couldn’t go. The feeling in my chest grew wider, bigger. I didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. The pain was nothing like I’d experienced before. “Willow?”

She didn’t respond. What the fuck should I do?

My gaze flew over her, searching the blank expression on her face, calling her name, shaking her, trying to wake her. Still nothing.

It was probably fucking stupid, but one thing kept entering my mind. My dove liked when I kissed her, it made her happy. It was all I had, all I could do, so I kissed her softly, lingering there. “Come back to me, precious one,” I said against her lips, then repeated it in my own language.

I’d never called anyone that in my life—I’d never even thought the words until her—but that’s what she was, she was my dove, my precious mate, and I refused to let her go.

She jolted in my arms and gasped.

Her gaze cleared and flew around the room, then came back to me, and before I could open my mouth to speak, her arms were around my neck, and she was holding on tight, sobbing against my chest.

I held her, trying to get my shit together.

“You’re back. You’re back, dove. I’ve got you.”

She lifted her head. “There were three of them…and…oh goddess, they killed my family. They’re going to kill them, Warrick, all of them.”

Fuck. “Did you see who it was?”

She shook her head. “They wore cloaks. I couldn’t see their faces. It was…it was so real, I forgot everything else.” She gripped my shirt. “They killed my family, they killed you, they killed all of you, everyone I love, and I was so broken that I-I gave up. I sat there when they came for me, and I just gave up.” Her eyes filled with terror. “He was there, Warrick…Azel. He was there.”

Jesus.I cupped the back of her head and pressed my nose to the top of her head, breathing her in. I’d almost lost her. I’d almost fucking lost her again.

I wanted her the fuck out of here, now. So snatching up her bag, I carried her out of the cavern. She was naked still and it was cold, but I had to get her out of this fucking cave first, away from the evil here, the beings who could have taken her away from me.

I strode out into the darkening forest, and only when that feeling of dread dimmed did I stop, lower her to her feet, and help her dress. I got her underwear and jeans on but paused before I pulled her top over her head. The sight of that cut on her neck, the one on her forearm, had my fucking hackles lifting.

I wanted them gone. I needed them gone. Lifting her arm, I dragged my tongue along her forearm, ignoring her little cry of surprise. I looked at her as I did it again, making sure I wasn’t hurting her. She watched me wide-eyed but didn’t try to pull away.

“Okay?” I asked as I watched, not about to stop until the healing started.

“You don’t need to do that,” she said.

I glanced up at her again. “Don’t fucking like seeing you bleed, dove. If I can take away your pain, I’m sure as fuck going to do it.” She stilled as I slid my hand up between her shoulder blades and cupped the back of her head, then gently angled it to the side, asking without words if I could do the same to her throat.

She gave me a little nod.

I hooked my other arm around her waist as I leaned in, dragging in a lungful of her scent mixed with her blood, and I swiped my tongue over that slice to the side of her throat, just below her jawline. The combination had the animal in me roaring for revenge, for death. I wanted to tear apart whoever had hurt her, and the fact I couldn’t, that I didn’t know who it was, was fucking with my head.

I licked her again, and she shivered. “Okay?” I repeated against her damp skin.

“Yes.”

I couldn’t stop myself from licking her one last time, from wrapping my lips around the short slice and sucking gently. She made a soft little moan, her fingers digging into my shoulders, and I forced myself to lift my head. And when I was sure the healing had begun there as well, I finished dressing her.

She protested when I scooped her back up, and I ignored it, carrying her out of the fucking woods.

When we reached her truck, I put her down and strode to my bike to get her my jacket. Her door closed, and I turned.

“I need to get home,” she said and fired the thing to life.

“Wait.”

But she was already pulling out onto the road.

Fuck.

Swinging a leg over my bike, I started it and roared after her. There she went, running from me again.

I told her I’d never stop chasing her.

I didn’t think she’d believed me, but she would.