CHAPTER 58
“I need you to locate Ethel. I know you can do it.”
Amara’s eyes widened a fraction, and Caster regretted the harshness of his demand, but she didn’t flinch away from the challenge he presented or the state of his clothing.
He didn’t need to look at himself to know he looked a fright, but there was no time for anything.
When Mark woke up, and he would, Caster wanted him to live in safety, and there was only one person threatening that.
He opened his mouth to reiterate the urgency of his demand, but Amara nodded, a significant portion of her power pulsing between them. She’d been in his father’s back garden, collecting some of the herbs his mother insisted on growing.
She stood, straightened. “I’ve been tracking her since she fled from here. I can send you to her…”
Caster was already nodding, Dean, Cy and Damien flanking him, ready to end the nightmare their life had become.
“But I must warn you that she may not be alone.” She looked at all of them and then shook her head. “You don’t care, do you?” She didn’t wait for a reply he wasn’t in a mood to give. “You are all protected?”
Caster nodded.
“Good. Riley’s power is diminished at the moment, so I will need to come with you…”
“That’s not necessary,” Dean said. “She is just one witch. We can handle her.”
Amara sighed. “No. You can’t. She has a potent protection spell, and I suspect she may not be alone.” She brushed her hands over her dress. “I will need to strip her of that protection. It is the only way you can kill her.”
“What do you mean?” The call of battle still waged in his mind, but his considerable experience had taught Caster never to walk into a battlefield he couldn’t control.
“Riley’s immortality spell granted all witches eternal life. It will protect her from you. But I can strip away that protection.”
Caster nodded his gratitude. He’d forgotten about that immortality spell, his lust for blood overriding common sense. Like almost everyone he knew, Amara’s desire to see an end to Ethel’s evil seemed personal, but he didn’t need to ask. Riley trusted her, and that was enough for him.
Her power surrounded them, its signature different from what he was used to.
She also seemed powerful enough to affect the same brand of teleportation Pierce exercised.
One second they were surrounded by the calm protection his father’s house provided, the next they were standing in the midst of a cluster of trees that didn’t seem natural, staring at a small wooden cabin.
“Ahh, she kept it.” Pierce’s many voices materialized from the left, and Caster only just held his ground. “Sorry…” He smiled. “You didn’t think you would keep me from this, did you?”
Caster shrugged; he cared little for Pierce’s thirst for vengeance. His goal was singular: make sure Ethel never threatens Mark again.
The door of the cabin swung open to reveal Ethel on its threshold. The white dress she had on when she launched her latest attack on them still bore the marks of that attack, stained with the blood of the witches she’d brought with her, torn apart by Riley’s immense power.
She took a breath that was more of a defeated sigh just as her allies, the allies Amara had warned against, materialized around them. Water Witches chanting in unison. The power their spell unleashed crawled over Caster’s sensitive skin, but didn’t last long.
Pierce morphed into his demon form so fast, a stiff wind peaked in his wake.
Caster turned towards the direction of the yellow smoke he’d become and couldn’t help the gasp as it tore through the witches with minimal effort, choking their chant.
A chorus of their screams filled the air before each one exploded into a puff of smoke, swallowed by Pierce’s demon form.
The nearly tangible combined magic the witches had possessed vanished from the air.
Pierce returned to his camouflaged form in the space of a breath, but the demonic quality of his many voices remained. “Now, where were we?”
Caster buried the terror of that display behind the satisfaction of watching all color drain from Ethel’s face. He glanced at Amara, the murderous stare she directed Ethel’s way unsurprising, and he waited a beat for her to acknowledge him. It was time for a bit of torture.
The words of the spell Amara used were a tiny whisper, but their effect was enormous.
It started as the creaking sound of wood breaking, the cabin that Ethel held on to like a shield crumbling around her into a pile of ash, but somehow she remained unharmed, staring daggers at them from her vantage point.
Amara increased the volume of her chant, her spell’s intensity rising, and eerie silence followed.
A piercing scream tore through that silence, and Ethel doubled over.
Riley had told him that stripping a protection spell felt more like being skinned alive, but even his description as horrific as it had been seemed insufficient.
Amara’s ruthless deployment of her magic seemed to tear Ethel apart from the inside, but Caster could still see her defiance. She straightened with the last of Amara’s chant, her pale face awash with tears and perspiration, her hands on her head, gripping fistfuls of her hair.
She took a breath and gathered her paltry Power of the Water, and for a split second Caster was overcome by how small she seemed to be.
The white dress clung to her form, resignation in her face, her breath shallow gasps.
He extended his claws, the vision of her futile struggle against his considerable strength flashing in his mind as he took a step toward her.
She gasped, stepped back, and her power surged.
He fortified himself for her attack, knowing it would be nothing but a nuisance he could brush aside.
Cy and Damien flanked him, Dean behind him, each one ready to take over should her power subdue him.
But the attack he braced for didn’t come.
Her power surged again, but she didn’t direct it towards them.
“No!” Pierce’s shout fought for his attention, but Caster refused to tear it from the witch.
She smiled, her latest gasp of air a sob as she turned her power on herself.
The scent of burning flesh reached his senses as her latest spell took effect.
Her skin seemed to bubble from the inside, her scream once again tearing at his eardrums.
He willed his body forward, unwilling to let her escape this time.
But her face, once a mask of beauty, drooped to the side, the disfigurement stopping his advance.
Her skin contorted, her hair falling in clumps at her feet as the monstrosity that had once been her face continued to scream her agony.
He refused to tear his eyes away, even as the scene in front of him took on a horrific quality.
Her face melted into itself, until her disappearing mouth swallowed the last of her screams.
Silence ensued. He was aware of the others next to him, Pierce’s frantic movement, but he was still gripped by the melting mess that had once been Ethel.
He didn’t dare tear his eyes from her, not until all that was left was the white dress in a heap, foul-smelling smoke rising from it.
He turned to an agitated Pierce, unsure he even had the words to question what he’d seen.
“Is she dead?” Dean asked
Pierce nodded, but his non-verbal reply was unconvincing.
“It would have been better to burn her body, but yes. She is dead,” Amara said, and they all turned to her. She nodded toward the still smoldering dress. “Burning her body ensures she can’t return.”
“There is a chance she could come back?” Cy asked.
Pierce stopped his frantic pacing. “Not if I can help it.” Then he was gone, his considerable power retreating with him.
Caster leveled Amara with his best stare. “Answer the question.” What he sought was reassurance of Mark’s safety.
“There is always the chance the dead can return. But it will take more power than she has access to.”
“Mark is safe.”
“Yes.” She seemed sure, but Caster still resolved to have Riley reinforce the protection spell he had on Mark.
Guarantees in their world were scarce, but in Amara’s reassurance, he found the courage to return to Mark’s side, beg him to come back to him.
The possibility of Ethel’s return meant a lifetime of looking over their shoulder, but he would be ready.
He would do whatever it took to keep Mark safe.