Chapter 31
JOSIE
When I push to my feet, I’ve been transported again, this time to a vast and breathtaking landscape of rolling hills, vibrant meadows, and towering forests that stretch as far as the eye can see.
“Well, we’re not in Louisiana anymore.”
There’s no response, and I’m suddenly missing Phi’s presence. It would have been comforting to have my familiar here with me—the Toto to my Dorothy—because I have a hunch I’m not on the Earthly plane anymore.
Nothing like this exists on Earth.
The sky above is a swirling mix of pastel colors, an ever-changing canvas that reminds me of the Northern Lights. Even the grass here is different. It’s almost the same, but more velvety.
Everything here feels more saturated. More real, yet alien at the same time.
As I gaze upwards, every element around me pulses with an intensity that is almost tangible. I’m still soaking in the surreal beauty of the landscape when a gentle rustling sound draws my attention.
From the midst of a nearby grove, a figure emerges. It’s Mother Gaia, the very essence of the earth and nature itself.
She moves towards me, her form fluid and graceful, garbed in flowing robes that seem woven from the green of leaves, the brown of earth, and the clear blue of the sky.
Her hair cascades in waves of deep forest greens intertwined with autumnal colors, and her eyes reflect the depth of the oceans.
My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, I am utterly speechless. This is the goddess I have always felt but never seen, the divine force I have spoken to my entire life.
I drop to my knees and lower my gaze. “Mother Gaia, you honor me.”
“Aww, sweet Josephine,” she replies, her voice resonant and warm. “You have honored me so often, it is a pleasure to return the favor.”
I glance up to meet her gaze. “I—I don’t know what to say. I never thought?—”
“There is no need for words when your heart speaks so clearly.” Gaia touches my shoulder with a hand that feels like cool soil on a hot day. Her touch is grounding, infusing me with a calm strength.
Tears brim in my eyes as I absorb the reality of this encounter. Here, in this ethereal landscape, I meet the deity of my deepest devotions.
Mother Gaia embodies everything I’ve ever revered about the natural world, and her being here, now, reassures me that my path is blessed, my practices meaningful.
Her presence is awe-inspiring and transcends time and space. My mind is blank. What do I say now that I’m here?
“Come, young one. Let us walk.” She takes my hand and together we walk across the lush carpet of green. Small animals hop and scurry about and I wonder if they know how blessed they are to live in the landscape of the goddess mother.
“You and I and those around us are not so different. We are connected by the threads of magic that weave through this world so thoroughly that we are basically one and the same.”
I blink. “One and the same?”
“In a sense, yes.”
I don’t know how to process that.
“I have looked forward to meeting you, Josephine.”
“Me?”
“Of course.”
I don’t understand. “But why? I’m just an ordinary witch.”
Gaia’s laughter is like a gentle melody, filling the surrounding space. “You underestimate yourself, child. There is no such thing as ‘ordinary’ in the tapestry of existence—on this plane or any other. Each soul carries a unique spark, each with their own purpose.”
“Then, a single strand woven into a tapestry could be no more important than any other.”
She chuckles again. “A wise and generous view, though some threads could be cotton or wool, some silk, and still others metallic or tungsten. Each offers varying degrees of strength or beauty or, in some cases, both.”
We walk for a bit longer while I consider that before I remember I have a limited amount of time here. How long did Zana say again? I should have paid more attention.
I still have so many questions I need answered.
“Why did you create the unity bonds with the wolves and the vampires?”
“I did no such thing. It was the intention of the witches at the ritual that forged the bonds.”
I frown at her words. “How can that be? They didn’t want to lock themselves into servitude and abuse.”
“No. I am certain that is true.”
“So how could it have been them?”
We take a meandering path into the shade of the forest. Delicate vines curl around ancient trees, their leaves shimmering with a soft luminescence.
“What is the most determining factor of a spell’s success?”
“Intention.”
“And what was their intention when the witches gathered for the Unity Ritual?”
“To end the war.”
“And did the war end?”
I never thought of it that way. “Yes. I suppose it did. Though I don’t think they intended for the spell to bind us to others.”
“With expectation and intention comes ambiguity. Other than ‘end the war’, how did they guide the results of the ritual? To gather the coven and combine an incredible amount of power, a spell must be exact.”
Of course it does.
“So the binding wasn’t your intention at all?”
“I do not govern the results of spells, child, I simply allow those deserving of my aid the power to fulfill their workings.”
We arrive at a patch of moss so soft, I can’t fight the urge for a barefoot wandering. “So, if you never intended us to be bound, can the spell be reversed?”
“Let me ask you a different question. During the original ritual, the coven gathered, everyone united in one mind, yes?”
I collect a strand of stray hair, tickling my face. “Yes, that’s my understanding.”
“And to undo a spell you need equal or greater power, intention, and skill, correct?”
“Yes.”
“So, in your estimation, will the entire coven come together with the unified determination to sever the tie of the bonds? Would each witch—with their whole heart and mind—be willing to give up their ties to their unity mates? Would you?”
If asked this question a month ago, I would’ve said yes, but now… “I’m falling for Finn and Rune, and I care about Sebastian’s well-being. I believe our bond is the key to helping him and, in turn, the vampires of the French Quarter.”
I think about Emilie Broussard and her mating with Remi Guidry, the Gentilly Pack Alpha. They have taken the bond and made it something beautiful and celebrated.
In fact, there are half a dozen packs other than the Algiers Pack that treat their witches with love and respect. Those women won’t want to destroy their bonds.
“No. I don’t see that happening.”
“Nor do I. Sometimes what is done cannot and should not be undone.”
We walk a little further and I sigh. “I don’t like the part my mother and grandmother played in hurting my sister witches and even Sebastian—both unintentionally and not—but it seems correcting those wrongs while moving forward is the only course. It can’t be undone.”
“And I have great faith that you will do just that, Josephine. The Dumont witches have always held my respect. I expect you will prove yourself to be a witch of worth and a valuable leader to the community.”
I blush, barely able to believe Mother Gaia could even speak those words. “Does that mean you’ve chosen me as the next high priestess?”
She brushes my cheek and smiles. “I have never chosen a witch to be high priestess. That decision has always been yours to make, as it was to introduce the role of a leader in the first place.”
“But—”
“I do not sway things one way or the other. Your life is yours to lead. Your decisions are yours to make, as are the outcomes of those choices—good or bad. I simply allow those who are worthy to access the power of my realm.”
“What about me being the high priestess? Do you believe I could do a good job?”
“I do.”
I’m not so sure. “Do you know about my necromancer powers? I was taught no witch of worth would ever affect the dead and yet…”
“Being a necromancer has no more bearing on your morality than being a witch, or a vampire, or werewolf. It is simply a facet of who you are.”
Grand-Mère would not agree, but I’m beginning to think that being isolated with only one witch’s views has left me with a very closed-off view of my world. “I always tried to live up to the expectations of my grandmother and the woman she taught me my mother was. Lately I’ve found out…”
“That they weren’t perfect? Child, no one is.” She stops walking and turns to hold both my hands in hers. “Forgive them for their flaws—perceived or real—and know that going forward you need only meet your own expectations.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“And that will always be good enough for me. Blessed be, Josephine Dumont.”
“Blessed be, Mother Gaia.”
Our time together has come to its end, but as the ethereal plane shimmers and fades, I’m reminded of all the other questions I needed to ask her. If the bonds can’t be broken, how do I handle Egan misusing my Moon Witch sisters? And how do I lift the curse off Sebastian and help him?
I glance down at my hands, but it’s all slipping away. Mother Gaia…the vision…all of it.
I blink awake and Zana is sitting before me, holding my hands just as Gaia had been only a moment ago. “Welcome back, Josie.”
I get to my feet and help Zana off the dirt floor. The woman gives me a wide smile. “Congratulations, Josephine. That was incredible. It’s been a long time since the power of a Dumont has guided our way. I’m pleased to announce you as the new High Priestess of the New Orleans Sun Witches.”
I step back and the reality of that collides with the realization that Beatris is sitting with Francine in the corner, crying, and Summer is already gone.
That can’t be good.
“I’m honored. Thank you. But there is an emergency I must attend to.”
“Something more important than assuming your place as our leader?”
“More urgent, yes. Summer wanted me to withdraw and kidnapped Finn. She threatened to kill him if I didn’t bow out. I’m sorry. I have to find her and stop her.”
And with that, I leave the sacred chamber, hoping I’m not too late to save my mate.
SEBASTIAN
Call me a vindictive bastard, but finally being able to go after Lilian Beauchamp is the most satisfying thing I’ve experienced in twenty-five years. And knowing that me keeping her busy is giving Rune and the girls a chance to free Finn makes it taste even sweeter.
She knows what’s coming and raises her hands, chanting incantations that make the air crackle. I can taste the power she wields, and it fuels my darkest urges.
“You cannot win, Sebastian,” she hisses, as a surge of lunar energy blasts towards me.
I dodge, feeling the rush of the force pass by, leaving a trail of icy cold in its wake. Laughing, I close the distance between us, my movements swift, predatory. “But I love the challenge, dear Lilian!”
I release my hold on my human form, allowing my fingernails to grow into razor-sharp claws.
She counters with a swirl of her hands, a barrier of shimmering light forming around her.
I strike, my claws slicing through the magical protection with a satisfying hiss. Sparks fly, casting ghostly shadows on the walls. The sound of clashing energies fills the room, a symphony to my unhinged mind.
Lilian stumbles back, her barrier flickering. I can see the fear in her eyes, the realization she might not walk away from this.
My smile widens. “What’s wrong, Elder? Gotten rusty hiding away in the woods?”
Her expression hardens. “You are a blight, Sebastian. A monster!” With a dramatic sweep of her arms, she summons the power of the moon once more, and the air thickens with a palpable force.
But I am too fast, too driven by the darkness within. I lunge, feinting left, then slashing right, aiming at her heart.
Lilian parries, barely deflecting my attack. I don’t cause any damage to her, but the force of my hit knocks us both through the wall in a crash of wooden slats and dust.
Our battle is a blur of violence, a dance of death within the confines of the crumbling home. I revel in the destruction, in the primal contest of our wills.
Lilian fights with the desperation of one who knows what lurks in the shadows, but I fight with the freedom of one who embraces it.
I glance back and see Elara and Nadine working feverishly to free Finn from his golden prison. They need more time.
With a wild cry, I launch forward and grasp Lilian around the neck. I try to close my grip, but the spell she’s chanting is preventing me from crushing her windpipe.
“If you have no breath, you cannot cast. All I need to do is shut you up for a few seconds and you’ll be done.”
The room’s air thickens with desperation and dark delight. She claws at my hands, her nails scraping uselessly against my skin. Her wide eyes meet mine, and I wonder if she’ll plea for mercy.
It won’t matter if she does.
Mercy is a foreign concept to my unhinged nature.
“We’ve got company,” Rune says, racing out of the next bedroom. “Phi says Summer is pulling up outside the house.”
“Then go kill the bitch.”
“On it.”
Lilian’s power vibrates beneath my fingers, a testament to her strength as a Moon Witch elder. Still, there’s a thrill in feeling her power wane under my unrelenting pressure.
“Fight all you want, Lilian,” I hiss into her ear, my voice low. “Your end will be by my hands, witch, and it will be glorious.”
The air shimmers a moment before a shockwave of raw energy blasts the two of us apart. I’m thrown backward and slammed against the wall and she’s thrown out the open door and over the railing.
Dazed but energized, I chase my prey. She is proving to be a worthy opponent, and I don’t want the fun to end. I find the old girl dazed and struggling to get to get up, twelve feet below.
I wipe at the dust and old plaster thick in my mouth and shake off the disorientation. My vampire resilience is better than hers.
Lilian, gasping for breath, stands, her figure slightly stooped after the fall. She’s a tough old bird, I’ll give her that.
I push off from the bottom step and we circle each other like predators.
Rune and Summer are going head-to-head in the front room and the house seems to groan beneath the weight of conflict, its ancient timbers creaking and the air swirling with the power of witches against vamps.
I dart forward, a blur of motion aimed directly at Lilian as she raises her hands, chanting quickly. I’m ready for her this time. I feint to the left and then attack from the right, bypassing her defenses.
My hands find her neck once more, my fingers pressing into her flesh with lethal intent. Lilian grabs my wrists, her own strength surprising, her magical aura flaring up to protect her.
We are locked in a deadly embrace, each pushing against the other’s will, a battle of physical and mental might. As our struggle intensifies, Lilian’s eyes suddenly flicker with a sinister gleam.
Her focus shifts, her chant morphing into something darker, more visceral. I feel a cold shiver trail down my spine as her words slip into the crevices of my mind, pulling at the fragile threads of my sanity.
“Sebastian,” she whispers, her voice echoing in the hollows of my thoughts. “What’s this, lurking in the shadows of your soul? A curse?”
I try to tighten my grip, to maintain control, but her magic, subtle and insidious, invades. Shadows swarm at the edge of my vision, shapes and whispers from my past converging into a chorus of chaos.
“One of my sisters left her mark here,” Lilian says, amusement in her tone. “Let me help you with that.”
The images Celine tortured me with over decades of long-forgotten fears, betrayals, and the darker urges I’ve harbored, flicker before me, each one more disturbing than the last.
“That’s right, Sebastian. The darkness is here to greet you. Let it show you what you truly are.” Her voice is a serpent in my ear, weaving madness and doubt into my consciousness.
I stagger back, releasing her neck as I clutch at my head, trying to silence the cacophony inside.
The room spins, the once solid forms of Rune and Summer melting into the walls. Lilian stands before me, her eyes piercing through the chaos of my mind, unhinging all the safeties I’ve put in place.
“Stop,” I gasp out, my voice ragged.
But Lilian does not stop. Her hands are raised, her power enveloping me, driving me deeper into the maelstrom of my unraveling sanity.
I am losing myself, piece by piece, to the darkness. In a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control, I reach for the anger and ruthlessness that have always anchored me.
They slip through my fingers like sand, overshadowed by the relentless assault on my psyche.
“Embrace your true nature, Sebastian,” she calls out, her voice both a taunt and a verdict. “Acknowledge the monster you’ve hidden, even from yourself.”
I collapse to my knees, the fight draining out of me as madness wraps its cold arms around my consciousness.
“Sebastian. Fight her!” Rune’s anger stirs something in me, but I’m too lost to recognize what it is.
The fear that I had never allowed myself to acknowledge now claws its way through my defenses, overwhelming me with its intensity.
I hear laughter, but I’m not sure if it’s mine or emanating from the phantoms that crowd around me. My own mind turns against me, each thought splintering into fragments of paranoia and terror.
“Bas! Fight, dammit!”
The last thing I see is Manon standing before me, her arms open wide. I go to her, and the darkness envelops me. I’m drifting in weightless, black nothingness.
It’s comforting, and for the first time in decades, I let myself go.