Page 47 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

FORTY-SEVEN

The Song of the Dead

I stood and rushed to him. “Are you okay?”

Bracken’s expression was grim but determined. “I will be, especially now that I know this is dead.” A black ooze radiated out from where the demon blade had been plunged in.

“Dead? Was it living?” I asked.

“I believe so,” he said. He yanked out the blade, waved a hand to clean it, and then sheathed it and put it back in his pocket. “It was filled with the twisted souls of our own who had sold themselves for more power.”

“Arwyn!” Declan roared.

“We’re here and we’re okay.” I met Bracken’s weary gaze. “Are we okay?”

He let out a breath and nodded slowly. “I believe my sister is dead, though.”

I flinched. “What? Why?”

He gestured around us. “Do you sense her?”

I listened intently. Declan and Robert were coming down the stairs and…that was it. There were no other thoughts in this building.

“I’d feel it, though. I’m sure I would. I was one of the three.” How could she die and me not feel it?

Declan burst in and picked me up, crushing me to him. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”

“I’m still underwater,” I reminded him.

Laughing, he gave me a quick kiss. “I’m well aware. But you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t okay there.”

“Ah, good point.” I patted his chest, a request to put me down. Robert looked like he’d been chewed on. I caught his eye. “How about you? Are you okay?”

He blew out a long breath and finally gave a nod. “I’m alive. I may never sleep again, but I’m still breathing. I heard Elizabeth cry in my head while we were dealing with the spider. I need to go make sure my family is okay.”

I nodded. “Please, go. Check on them. Bracken and I have something we need to do here.”

Robert nodded and then headed back up the stairs. Declan stayed with us, like I knew he would.

“Bracken thinks Gran is dead. I don’t sense anyone else in the house with us.” I held up a finger. “ But , Cal was thinking about a hidden chamber over here.” I gestured to the side wall. I went back to the doorway, looked out into the short hall, and threw a ball of light at the ceiling. The walls were definitely off.

“This rock, dirt—whatever it is—is too thick to just be a wall. Gran may have been hidden in a compartment here. That might be why I can’t feel her.” I waved Bracken over. “We’ll do this together.”

Limping, he made his way slowly across the room. “Together, then.” He took my hand and then we put our free hands against the rough earthen wall. Our magic combined and brought down the false front.

There, cuts all over her body, was the frail form of Gran. The force of the loss hit me like a truck. My brain froze. My lungs seized. I dropped, trying to catch my breath as my real self raced through the water. When I hit the ocean surface, I heard Mom wail. She’d felt the loss of our third as strongly as I had.

Dad was in the water looking up at her, sharks circling the sailboat. I had a moment to put two and two together. The land between the house and the water was torn up, like a huge rototiller had been used. Sharks were circling the boat. That asshole Cal had sent more hellhounds at Mom, Elizabeth, and the kids.

Robert stood at the water’s edge, eyes wide, watching the distinctive dorsal fins cutting through the water around his family.

In the next moment, a strong arm scooped me up. Dad, holding both Mom and me, put us down in that foul room of death and terror. Shadow-me disappeared. Mom shrugged out of her coat and covered her mother with it.

She looked back at me, tears streaming down her face. “Arwyn?”

I went to her. We clasped hands and sang the song of the dead for Gran, asking the Goddess to take Mary into her loving embrace. Gran wasn’t perfect. No one was, but she’d worked and sacrificed her whole life to look after the Corey coven.

A phrase came to me: Whoever destroys a single soul destroys the whole world . The evil we do echoes on into eternity. All those wicches I’d seen in that vision, they’d twisted the soul of our family, heedless of those the echoes would touch, would hurt.

Gran was a hard woman because strength was needed to survive. She’d kept this family thriving when other wicche families had splintered and lost their power.

In addition to my prayers for Gran moving on, for her peaceful rest, I prayed for Mom, who now inherited the mantle. She was now the head of the Corey clan. She’d been preparing for it her whole life, but it was different when you had to do it on your own.

As our song came to an end, Mom hugged me to her. I pulled Bracken into the hug. He’d lost his sister today. Estranged or not, he’d lost another member of his family.

Mom wiped her face and turned to Dad. “Mac, can you take her for me? To her home? We need to care for her now.”

Nodding, he disappeared with Gran.

Mom squeezed my hand. “You’ll stand with me, won’t you?”

“I will,” I said.

She nodded, clearing her throat and straightening her shoulders. “All right then. We’ll need a third. Perhaps Elizabeth…”

I shook my head. “She’s happy in her quiet life with her wonderful family. Besides, we need a maiden. Mother and—sorry—crone are covered.”

“What do you—” she looked sharply between Declan and me.

“It’s still very early,” I told her. “Dad says she’s healthy and though she’s not technically a she yet, he believes she will be.”

“You told your father before me?” She was a jumble of emotions right now, but hurt seemed to be leading the way.

“No. He told me.”

Her eyes got wide and then she huffed out a laugh. “I’d forgotten. I found out about you from him too.” She looked between Declan and me. “So, you ignored my advice and tied yourself to this…wolf.”

“Mom,” I warned.

She waved away my concern. “Fine. What do I know? At least you’ll make beautiful babies. How could you not? Look at you two.” She air kissed my cheek. “This is good. Thank you for telling me. Death was answered with life. Okay. A maiden, then.”

We looked at each other and both said, “Faith.”

Mom glanced at Calliope lying in the corner, her eyes open and unseeing, the athame sticking out of her chest, and shook her head in disgust. “Let’s get out of here.”

Bracken pointed at the grimoire. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving this here.”

I thought a moment. “Anyone have a phone on them that works?”

Mom pulled hers out of a pocket.

“It’s a good thing I memorized his number.” I dialed and hit speaker.

“Do you know what time it is?” A very growly and annoyed voice filled the room.

“Pleasant as always. I found that book we were talking about before. I’d really appreciate it if you could dispose of it properly.”

“Give me a minute. I’ve got those damn meringue cookies Sam loves in the oven. I’ll be there in…three minutes.” Click.

I stared at the phone. “Why the hell is he complaining about the time if he’s up baking? Jeez.” I handed it back to Mom.

“Did you just call a demon on my phone?”

“Yeah, but he’s only half a demon and he’s baking one of my recipes.” I flicked my fingers, causing the grimoire to float. “Let’s go upstairs. The stench down here is going to make me hurl.”

“Arwyn, really,” Mom chastised. “That’s no way for the second in this family to talk.”

When we got to the main floor, Mom closed and sealed the door with a flick of her fingers, cutting off the smell. When she went to the front door and reached for the knob, Bracken, Declan, and I all yelled, “No!”

She jumped.

“Sorry, Mom. The doorknobs are cursed to kill.” I looked at Bracken, unsure. “Do curses disappear when the sorcerer and demon are gone?”

Dave popped in beside me. “No,” he answered. “That’s how people get hit by ancient curses. Use your head.” He checked our hands. “So, where’s the—” And then he saw it hovering behind me. “Good call not touching it.” He shook his head. “I don’t miss that smell. Fucking sorcerers are savages.”

Mom said, “But aren’t you—” At his glare, she stopped talking.

He studied the grimoire, touching the black ooze. “Looks like someone has an ancient artifact they’re not supposed to have.” He stared at Bracken, someone he’d never met before. “So you know, that item glows to my kind. You need something stronger than a leather sheath to hide it. Also, there are many who wouldn’t think twice about killing an entire town to get a hold of that.”

“How do we hide it?” I asked.

He blew out a breath. “There’s nothing in this realm that’ll hide it. I’m not sure how long you’ve had it, old man, but you’re living on borrowed time.”

Bracken finally responded. “I have the proper box for it. I don’t use it if I need to carry it on a day like today.”

Dave shook his head on a chuckle. “Good on you then. Someday I’d like to hear the story of how you procured that, but not today. The one who’s in charge of keeping track of those is very high up and he’s been pissed for centuries that one of them disappeared from under his nose.”

Bracken’s gaze turned speculative. “I’d be more than happy to tell you how I ended up with this item, if you’d be so kind as to let me interview you about Hell.”

Dave’s eyes slid to me.

“Dave, this is my Great-Uncle Bracken. He’s a researcher of both human and supernatural history and I trust him with my life. Bracken, this is Dave, half-demon, half-Corey wicche, and cook at The Slaughtered Lamb.”

“Dave? As in Daeva?” Bracken looked at me. “Do you know his real name?”

“No, she doesn’t, old man, and she doesn’t need to.” Dave suddenly took more of an interest in Bracken than the grimoire in his hands. He turned to me, “Do you know he’s not full wicche?”

I glanced at Bracken and realized that everyone but Dave and me were frozen. “What did you do?”

“Just having a private conversation,” he said. “I’m not saying don’t trust him. I’m just saying he’s not how he presents himself. I’m calling him old man because that’s a glamour he’s wearing, and I want him to know that I know.”

“I meant what I said before,” I told him. “I trust him.”

Dave shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Given my parentage, that’d be pretty hypocritical of me. I just want you to be aware.”

“He did say that he didn’t believe his father was his father. He thought that was why he’d been spurned by his family.”

Dave nodded. “He’s probably right about that. Lots of secrets in this family. They may believe his father is another wicche, but I think fae.”

I stared at Bracken. “Really? He’s wicche and fae too?” He felt like even more of an uncle to me now.

“Did you already know that?” Dave asked to the right of me.

Bracken blinked. “I’ve wondered.”

Dave smirked. “Were you listening to the whole conversation?”

Bracken ignored the question and turned to me. “Does this change things between us?”

My eyes filled with tears as I quickly shook my head. I went to him and held his gloved hand. “We said we were alike. Now we’re even more so.”

He looked down, smiling. When he lifted his head, he was young and so handsome. He blinked and went back to my old great-uncle. “This guise is more comfortable for me now. It’s what I’m used to seeing in the mirror. Someday, when it’s time for Bracken to die, I’ll reappear as a long-lost cousin.”

I squeezed his hand. “Perfect. Just don’t go away for real.”

“Okay,” Dave said. “Move back to where you were standing so I can get rid of this thing. It feels like maggots are crawling over my hand.”

I went back, Dave lifted the spell, and he walked to the far side of the room, stepping over a huge spider leg. “Here we go.” Fire burst from his hand and the grimoire went up like an explosive. Dave’s clothes were blackened, but he was fine. When there was nothing but ash left, he brushed off his hands and looked around.

“I’d recommend torching the whole place and cleansing the soil. You can never sell this property, and you have to keep it hidden. If this place passes into the wrong hands, you’ll end up with a serial killer who keeps his victims in the basement.” Hands on his hips, he scowled around him. “You all get out. I’ll burn it down and see what I can do about pulling the curse out of the ground.” He seemed to be talking to himself now. “I can see if my father wants to help. He enjoys ridding the human realm of our interference.” He glanced over at us. “Why are you still here? I just said I was burning it down.”

“We’re going.” I grabbed Mom and we all headed to the patio doors as flames began to race up the walls.