Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Kainda
M y girls had found a stellar place to meet up for the final attack strategies. And by stellar I meant hella awful. An old metal shed probably used to work on cars before getting abandoned. It rusted apart at the seams. The windows coated in a thick layer of dust, almost as if painted on. Other windows were broken out, leaving jagged pieces sticking up or obscured by spiderweb cracks. It smelled of slightly damp soil, musty air, and rusting metal.
Empty except for a large wooden work table against one wall and two metal stools. Old rotting ropes hung from the rafters next to oxidized chains. A large metal tool box too new to have been original set atop the table. My guess, Hida left it here. I carefully checked it over from the outside before opening it. Inside I found a brief note in Hida’s neat handwriting. At least the crotchety old woman had left us some provisions for a few days.
I dumped my bags on the table and pulled out the supplies I needed to make this place as tight as Fort Knox— well, as close as I could magically make it in a tin can. Taking a can of spray paint, I drew a pentacle on the inside of the garage door as it faced north. I drew the symbol for each element at its points as I invoked them to guard our space. Casting a traditional circle and holding it open for however long would take, required too much energy. And that’s not to mention having to cut doorways into the circle for people to come and go.
Elijah sat on one of the stools watching me as he tried to calm himself. Once I had our asses covered, then I could go to him and hold him close. What the—? Where in Tartarus had that thought come from? Absolutely not, no holding of any sort would take place. Focus, Kainda .
I scrubbed the windows as much as I could, so we would have a mostly clear line of sight. Salt lines poured underneath the windows, and I dug a small trench at the threshold of each door and made my salt lines, so they couldn’t be broken when friendlies crossed to and fro. With the building protected, I could move onto protecting us.
Taking a candle from my magic supplies bag and my boline I carved a pentacle on the bottom of the candle so that as the wax melted the symbol wouldn’t break. I traced the pentacle with a drop of geranium oil on my finger. The smell of the oil perfumed the air, but it didn’t really help with the musty smell.
“Candle protect this place with the might of the holy flame of the Fire element. All who enter must know the wise word for safe passage. Flames to all who dare enter without the wise word. May the Mother Goddess bless me with Her divine protection.” I whispered the words over the wick as I traced protection sigils all over the candle with more of the oil.
I lit the wick with the sacred lighter— a semi-nice looking Bic lighter I purified and bless then kept in an energy proof box— before it floated up to levitate above the door. As if the smells in here coupled with the geranium oil weren’t enough now I had to smudge us and the room. If we had negative energy clinging to us or if some lingered here from past owners or squatters it needed to be banished least it attracts the demon.
By the time I finished with all the magic work, Elijah had gotten himself under control and rolled out his sleeping bag on his bedroll. He’d position it in the furthest corner of the room, facing the door. I carried mine over and got set up next to him. If he didn’t like it, well, tough shit. Sleep would allude me if I thought he was terrified out of his mind across the room. But he didn’t protest, just laid back, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Silence reigned, but I had no clue what to say without it feeling like useless chit-chat. He didn’t need useless chit-chat.
It felt like hours passed before I felt the shift in the air. Rolling my head to the side, I found Elijah had finally fallen asleep. Relief washed over me, he needed the rest. I sighed and wiggled to get comfortable, so I could catch a couple of hours of shut-eye. We were in the home stretch here, and I needed to be in tip-top shape. I allowed myself to slip into a meditative trance and let my mind slowly find my happy place.
Before long a yawn was cracking my jaw and my eyes were heavy despite already being closed. Relaxing deeper into my bedroll, I let the trance fade away and my body to shut down for sleep. Exhaustion claimed me and the sound of crickets the last thing I remembered until I got violently ripped from sleep.
A weight on my chest, crushing me into the hard floor, made it hard to breathe. Fuck! My eyes snapped open and nothing came into focus for a moment. The sleep cleared and Elijah knelt over me. His hands shook as he used his left forearm across my chest to hold me down. That wasn’t the big problem, though. Nope, his right hand, wrapped around my throat.
He didn’t apply any pressure there, so he hadn’t cut off my airway, yet. His eyes were open, but a nightmare clearly still had him in its grasp. Sweat had soaked his hair and shirt, making the scent of his fear overpowering. Tears leaked from his eyes, rolling down his anguished face to drop from his jaw onto me. My heart broke for him.
He screamed, and the sound physically hurt me to hear it. Then he started shaking and begging for his life. Seeing him like this despite my current precarious position, I died a little inside for him. No one deserved this. But I couldn’t comfort him yet. Startling someone in the middle of a PTSD night terror could escalate the situation and someone would get hurt. Yeah, I’d learned my lesson that day in the car, even if that hadn’t been a nightmare.
Now I needed to get out from under him and subdue him. If he hurt me even on accident, fear of what he could do to himself came over me. Not a single doubt in my mind that, that would truly break him. Especially after his reaction to the bruises, now faded from my arms. My thoughts raced as I ignored his words to quickly come up with a plan of action, only to trash it in the next thought as too risky. Finally, I settled on one and sent a prayer to the goddess, it’d work.
I took a slow deep breath as best I could given the circumstances and counted down from five. When I reached one, I used the element of surprise and my strength to throw him off me. If he’d been fully awake, I wouldn’t have so easily dislodged him. He crashed backward onto his bedroll, jarring him awake.
I scrambled over to him and wrapped him in my arms. His heart still raced, and he looked at me with wide, wild eyes. The tears stopped as he held me right back just as hard. After a minute, I eased us down and pulled the sleeping bag around us. “Sleep, E, you’re safe with me.”
He didn’t say anything for several minutes and his breathing evened out. I hoped he’d fallen back asleep, but he whispered, “I’m sorry. Again.”
That demon bitch was as good as dead when I finally got a hold of her. The longer I spent with Elijah and saw the damage she was still doing to him, the more the rage inside built. It was no longer just about my father, but also the man finally sleeping in my arms. I sent up a prayer to the gods to help me before finally falling back asleep myself.
The next morning, things were a little awkward. I still couldn’t get any information from our connection, though it still linked us. After eating some junk for breakfast, we went to get the rest of the gear from the car. But when I opened the door, all the gear had been stacked to the side. Cougar paw prints and bare feet prints solved the mystery of how it came to be here. I just hoped that mangy cat hadn’t busted out any of my windows when she broke into my car.
“So now what?” E asked, helping me carry everything inside.
Good freaking question. I’d planned for this to take up most of our day, and now we had hours to pass stuck inside together. My mind conjured one way to pass the time, but that would not happen. Especially after how complicated things had gotten over the last two days. I decided to check in with the team and the responses were nearly identical to the day prior.
He started going through all the gear and organizing it. At least he’d figured out a way to entertain himself that didn’t involve me or being naked. Now, I just needed to find something to occupy myself. It needed to be something that would keep my mind from circling back around to sex every time I looked at him. Hmm, something mindless, repetitive, and physical.
Digging through my bag, I found a marker and gathered some of my knives. Moving to the far side of the building, I conjured a large styrofoam block. Using the marker, I drew a target on one side of the block. Satisfied with it, I moved back several paces and tucked the marker in one of my pockets. Elijah looked over as I squared off and threw the first knife.
It hit its mark, embedding itself in the target with a very pleasing thawk! Palming another knife, I got into a different angle before letting it fly from my hand. It also hit the target, but it had gone wide and missed the spot I’d aimed for. Damn. Another blade found its way into my hand and I tried again from this angle. Perfection.
“Remind me not to piss you off.” His voice sounded too close. “You’re lethal with a blade.”
I couldn’t stop the smile at the compliment. “Somehow I doubt you’ll need a reminder. And thank you.”
“Who taught you how to do that?” He moved one of the metal stools over and sat watching me.
Another knife cut through the air as I answered him. “Hida did. She has an affinity for knives. Her blades are truly impressive. Although she favors one that looks older than she is.”
“Tell me about your team. I realized I’m going to meet them soon and all I really know is their names.” He waited patiently while I threw another knife.
Going to retrieve them from the target, I answered him. “Evin is just a little older than me, and a full witch. She came to live with the group when her mother abandoned her in their camp during a mission.”
“Woah, how old was she?”
I tamped down the anger I felt towards her mother on her behalf. “Three years olds. She was born into a coven of battle witches. Her mom’s the high priestess and obsessed with power. Evin didn’t come into her magic until she was around five, most witch children exhibit some magical ability starting around age two. Anyway, her mom didn’t want to appear weak by having a magically impaired kid, so she got rid of her.”
“So your dad and the other hunters took her in and raised her to be a hunter too?” He idly spun the bracelet around his wrist, still watching me.
This time I let my magic take physical form taking on the shape and power of fire, it wrapped around the blade as I flung it with both hands, putting all my frustration into the move. “Yes and no. Hida pretty much raised her and taught her how to use her magic when it finally showed up. But there’s something broken with Evin, and she needed to channel the rage or self-destruct. Dad and Hida talked about it, then Evin got to use her battle witch magic for something other than burning everything else around her to the ground.”
“Can you explain what makes battle witches different from your kind of witch?” He looked a little nervous when he asked.
Poor guy. “All witches are witches, but every witch has different powers, abilities, and tendencies toward a specific kind of magic. Ages ago covens used to not group together by talents, but something happened, no one’s sure what, and then covens formed based on similar abilities and philosophy. Battle witches have natural talent learning defensive and offensive protection magic, they’re also excellent conjurers which they use to pull weapons without having to pack around their weight. Each battle witch also forms a link to one of the four elements, and their magic takes on that physical form. In Evin’s case, she can throw streams of fire or create walls of flames.”
“Got it, don’t piss her off either.” His relaxed attitude and the nonchalant words knocked a laugh from me, which made him smile. “So she’s a battle witch, what kind of witch does that make you?”
Sneaky. “My mom’s coven is one that formed around philosophy instead of talent. So genetics haven’t drilled down as much on my magical abilities. I don’t think I could put myself neatly into any one category. Well, I guess non-specialized witch could be its own category.”
“There’s one other person on your team, right?” He watched me cross the space and pull each blade from the target, sliding them back into their designated pockets.
Moving back to the invisible throw line, I kept my back to the target before palming a knife. “Delmira, she’s human. My dad dated her for a few years. She helped raise me, but she always tried to stay in the fun aunt category more than surrogate mom. His death hit her really hard.”
Whirling around, I flung the blade without looking at the target, allowing my magic to direct the blade to its mark. Smack! It landed spot on. I really didn’t want to keep talking about myself and my personal life. He didn’t seem to get the message, though, but that had more to do with me not being clear than anything else.
“How many hunters died in the battle against Uttu?” His whole body shook just saying her name.
I let another two blades fly like the previous one before I could answer him. Their deaths still felt too fresh, and they’d been family. The memory of their memorial service flashed in my mind. Hanging their photos and plaques on the wall in the cellar, sitting around the bonfire with beer and whiskey as we told stories about them, and all the tears we’d shed together. I missed them all, every day. We all knew every time we went out on a mission that it could be the last thing we ever did.
“My father and the former medic— Bruce— both of them were completely human. Stephen, he had a witch somewhere in his family, he didn’t have magic, but he could see and speak to ghosts. Darryl, a werewolf, we found him newly cursed while on a mission. He came back with us to HQ to figure out his new life and decided to stay. Marshal, a dryad, he made the best vegan and vegetarian food, I’ve ever had. And, Eddie, a basilisk shifter, the nicest guy you’d ever meet with a wicked sense of humor. Now can we change the subject please? I don’t care what, just no more of this, it hurts.”
Tears swam in my vision, but I refused to let them fall. My heart felt like the scab from their murders had ripped off and the wound had started to bleed again. At the same time, it was nice to recall their faces in my mind’s eye. I hadn’t given myself time to grieve their loss, before I’d forced it into a box, and went after their killer with a single-minded focus.
“Can you tell me how to unblock our connection?” He said as the last knife flew from my hand, shocking me, it sent the blade wide without my magic to guide it, and it landed in the far wall. The sheet metal clanged loudly in the new silence between us.
Oh, that would be a colossal mistake. He jumped off the stool and walked toward me. I felt like a cornered animal. Should I run, should I bite back, or should I just give into the trap I’d found myself in? I wanted to do the first two options, but I didn’t. Option three, damn it!
“Yes, but only because it could come in handy during the fight with Uttu.” I planned to keep living in denial as long as humanly possible.
His smirk at getting his way made me want to give him that pay back from the day before. This might actually be the perfect moment for it. I mentally rubbed my hands together in glee. Not sure what my face looked like, but from the look he gave me, it might’ve appeared deranged.
He stopped in front of me, “I don’t want to know what gave you that look, I’m positive it isn’t good for me. So, what do we do?”
“We need to sit down and get comfortable. You need to fall back into a meditative trance.” I took his hand and lead us to the corner where our sleeping bags waited.
He sat down facing me and got into a position. His legs crossed, his hands rested on his knees palms up, and his eyes closed. I watched him as his breathing evened out and got deeper, his muscles became loose in relaxation. His head hung slightly, the slightly too long hair getting into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I also got into a comfortable position and slowly took his hands so as not to spook him. His thumb brushed against my skin almost like a reflex, an unconscious gesture.
“Look in your mind, see your memories. All the good, bad, sad, and excited. Think of it like a vault and each item inside is a different memory. Don’t look at the dark items, those are moments of fear and trauma. Instead, gravitate toward the brightest, warmest items. Those are the moments in your life filled with the most happiness, and greatest pleasure. Some items will have dust on them, the more dust, the older or more hazy the memory is to you. Look for the thing that has the least dust or no dust at all. Pick it up, feel the vibrations coming from it. Run your eyes over the item, inspecting every facet of it. As you do this, the memory connected to the item will come to you. If the item you hold isn’t the last memory you have of feeling our connection put it down.”
I let my voice trail off to give him some time to search. This close, I could smell the mint from the gum he’d chewed on all morning. The sound of his breathing turned rhythmic, and in the growing quiet of the room I could faintly make out the sounds of our heartbeats. I let my eyes wander over him, taking in everything. Those butterflies woke up in my gut, I wanted to brush the hair from his face, let the stubble on his jaw scratch my palms, and feel the warmth of his body heat. My heart picked up pace and heat gathered in my cheeks. If he opened his eyes now, he’d see an unmistakable blush staining my pale face.
Shaking it all off, I started directing him again. “Have you found it? Tell me, what does the object containing that memory look like?”
After a few long minutes, he spoke. “It's a box for a puzzle. Should I open it and look inside?”
“Yes, open it and put it together. Let your mind create a space for you to do that. A large table or a clear space on the floor with plenty of room. Carefully remove each piece and examine it.”
The symbolism of his memory of our connection being a puzzle didn’t surprise me. His curiosity shined clearly through his personality and actions. Always asking questions and his eagerness to learn. I should find it so endearing, but it didn’t seem to matter. He’d slowly become my own puzzle to solve. How fitting that our connection had taken this form in his mind.
I let my eyes drift closed and tried to picture what he saw. Slowly, a room came into focus. The small space had warmth and a homey feeling. Later afternoon sun came through the glass wall on one side, washing the whole room in a honeyed glow.
An old-fashioned wood burning stove had a fire crackling behind the grate giving off a soothing warmth. A thick braided rug covered a large section of the stone floors, the other three walls had knotty pine paneling. Wooden picture frames hung from visible nails and wires, displaying pictures I couldn’t quite make out even as I moved closer to inspect them. Reaching up, my fingers touched the cool glass. Still, the photos never became visible.
Turning away in frustration, I looked at the rest of the room. On the wall opposite the glass wall, a porch swing had been mounted to the heavy wood beam ceiling. The cream-colored paint distressed and looking well-used as it swayed on unfelt air currents. Pumpkin colored cushions produced a siren’s calling invitation to have a seat and relax. In the corners behind it, terra-cotta pots rested on the floor housed unruly ferns.
Crossing the room, I accepted the offered invitation and took a seat on the swing. The tips of my toes just skimmed the floor, allowing me to push myself off. This side of the room had fallen into shadow and away from the fire, the stone felt chilly beneath my bare feet. I hadn’t noticed earlier, as I’d walked, the temperature or the texture. Now, though, I felt the worn, smoothness of the dark stones.
His voice still hadn’t reached out to me from beyond my own mental wanderings, so I let the vision continue. More of this room materialized in my mind. Linen curtains framed the glass wall that now had a door in the center. It’s golden door handle gleamed in the light, and a jute welcome mat covered the stone just in front of it. A tall, woven basket appeared to the right of the door, the handle of an umbrella coming from the mouth.
How strange that my mind had called up this space. I’d never visited any place like this, and my taste in interior design not even close to this. But it held a comforting feeling here than anything I’d ever felt before. More tactile sensations came at me the longer I stayed here. Nothing here felt like an illusion, and I had no desire to leave this space.
The chains on the swing creaked as I rocked myself. A ticking clock and the snap-pop of the fire created a beautiful melody. On the wall with the wood burning stove, a clock had materialized above two wooden shelves held up with wrought iron brackets with a fancy scroll work in the angle. On the shelves, as I looked at them, candles came into existence, their wicks already alight with flame. Books soon followed, capped at the end with a carved wooden book end.
Then scents joined the visual, sound, and tactile experience. A rich vanilla from the candles, a faint smokiness from the fire, and a mouth watering, spicy food smell. Turning my head, I followed that last scent to the wall where all the picture frames were hung. Now a doorway had appeared with three brick steps leading up to the foot of the door. A dim glow came from beyond. Nothing called me to explore beyond this room, though.
Scanning the room again, I noticed more new changes that hadn’t been there moments before. A chocolate colored leather couch with a golden floor lamp sat across from the stove. Across the back rested a patterned, knitted blanket in the colors of autumn leaves. In front of the couch, a low slung coffee table appeared. The top, a sheet of heavy glass held aloft by a tree stump free of bark and polished to a high, glossy shine.
An end table on the opposite end from the lamp came into the focus as if a heavy fog had lifted. A cork coaster rested on its surface with a hand thrown ceramic mug sitting on it. Steam curled from the top, and with it the heady aroma of fresh coffee. The second the scent registered in my mind, a new warmth took up residence in my palms. Lifting my hand, I felt the weight before seeing a matching mug in my own hand.
I’d meditated and done dozens and dozens of visualizations before as a witch, but none of them compared to this. Sounds in visualizations wasn’t unheard of, but the rest of this, completely new territory. Out of curiosity, I raised the mug and took a sip of the coffee. My eyes rolled back in my head, the scene going black for a moment before I opened them again. The room greeted me as if I’d never left it. My tongue still tingled from the heat of the delicious liquid. At least this vivid, visualization had managed to conjured my coffee order exactly to my liking. Maybe this wasn’t a visualization so much as a hallucination.
“Hey there.” Elijah’s voice called from the couch. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here, but I’m not mad about it.”
My jaw seemed to unhinge, and my eyes stung from the surprise. What the fuck? He sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. The clothes he’d been wearing when we’d started this exercise no longer covered his frame. His face now clean-shaven, a new pair of glasses perched on his nose, and his hair looked more like it had in the pictures I’d seen of him before the demon attack. He smiled at me for another moment before turning back to the coffee table.
Holy shit! Scattered across the surface of the table were pieces of a puzzle nearly complete. I got up and moved closer, setting my coffee next to the other mug. Looking down at the picture on the box, I saw a mirror image of the room we now resided in. The only difference, we weren’t in the puzzle. It unnerved me and now I thought back to how the room had slowly come together into a fully furnished space before my eyes. My breath caught at the realization, the room had come together as he’d put the puzzle together.
Looking back at him, he put in the last piece on the table. The puzzle was still missing a piece. I looked around for it to see if it’d fallen to the floor, but no luck. Checking the box also proved fruitless. His hand reached out and gently touched my shoulder. Turning, I saw his gorgeous smile and his attention focused solely on me.
“There’s a piece missing.” Apparently, the vision me liked to state the obvious. Did my voice always sound like that?
He lifted my hand, my fingers curled into a tight fist, greeted me. “You’ve got the last piece.”
Opening my palm, I saw the missing piece resting there. A chill raced up my spine and my heart started to race. Spooky came to mind and suddenly a little fear crept in. This room and all the things that sparked my senses shouldn’t exist in a visualization. Just like they didn’t exist in dreams, they shouldn’t here either. But that hadn’t stopped it. Had my magic done this?
Reaching out my hand, shaking like a leaf in a storm, I clicked the last piece in place. All the cracks and the edge began to glow more of that golden sunlight. Then, just as quickly as it appear, it disappeared and the puzzle no longer looked like the picture on the box. Instead of this room, I saw us as if from above sitting together in my car. It looked like a snapshot of the exact moment I felt that connection server between us.
He stood up, crowding into my space, taking my hands in his. “I wasn’t the only one blocking our connection, Kai. Seems like you were also shutting me out.”
“I didn’t do it consciously.” My hand clapped over my mouth in disbelief I’d said that out loud.
Leaning forward, his forehead touched mine, he whispered. “I know. But now, can you stop hiding from me?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I did the only thing that came to mind, to get a change of subject. Rising on my tiptoes and kissed him. Like always, the world fell away and he became the center of my universe, the only thing my body tuned into. Then, as if someone opened the dam, his thoughts and emotions came at me from every direction. The intensity took my breath away and I gasped into the kiss. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me even closer.
When my eyes opened this time, the visualized room was gone and we were back where we’d started. But instead of sitting across from each other, I found myself in his lap, my arms looped around his neck. He looked up at me with a shit eating grin as one hand came up, brushing my hair back. His index finger tapped my temple and I knew he could hear my every thought. Slowly I felt his thoughts and feelings again. Opening my eyes had broken the connection for a moment when the visualization ended.
Grabbing his wrist, I snagged the spelled bracelet and slipped it off. “This is what broke the connection. Your fear of the demon and your connection with me are all wrapped up in one another. Until we go up against her in battle, let’s not wear this.”
“What will happen to the spell if I’m not wearing the bracelet?” He took it from my hand and rolled it between his fingers.
I shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. That spell wasn’t something I got from a book or was taught. Free form magic is different, and when you mess with elements of a spell, it's hard to say for sure what will happen. I can make an educated guess based on my experiences.”
“Go on.” He didn’t take his eyes off my face as he waited for me to answer him.
Looking at his chest, I picked at invisible lint on his shirt. “You might have some nightmares or feel a little more on edge than normal. As long as you have the key on your person, the worst of the fear should stay locked in your mental box. But at night when you sleep, the mental shields aren’t as strong and some of the fear might leak through.”
“I managed the nightmares for a long time before I met you, I think I can manage them for a few more days.” His smile looked feeble and uncertainty crept into his eyes.