Blood Moon Read online

  The silver-eyed man brought his lips to her ear. “So sorry, Amelia, but she is the key to our little spell. Her blood will bind your possession.” His hand shot forward to grip Solace’s head, his fingers a claw around her crown. She squirmed, her cropped blond hair shifting and tangling across her eyes. Thick rain-drop tears drowned her face, and her whimpers climbed into a high-pitched scream.

  Amelia’s arms were passed to another witch, his grip painfully strong. The bearded man then brought his other hand to her head, exactly how Solace was treated. The cold of his fingers seeped into her scalp, chilling her whole body. The man whispered under his breath, mumbling words Amelia couldn’t hear. She bucked and pushed against the hands that held her and thrashed her head, but it was useless.

  As the Dark man whispered his spell, Amelia felt her body grow colder and colder. She stopped thrashing and looked into Solace’s weepy eyes, holding her gaze.

  “Amelia?” Solace whispered.

  “I’m so sorry, Solace,” was all Amelia could whisper back. A quiet resolve fogged over Solace’s face which made Amelia’s heart die a hundred deaths.

  Amelia cried out as a flash of electric pain shot through her body to complete the spell. Solace screamed, too, even louder and more agonizing. Breathless and freezing, Amelia watched in horror as the man holding Solace brought his arm around, hooking it forward, a knife flashing in his grip. He drew the knife over Solace’s pale, exposed throat. Solace’s eyes flashed in total horror as crimson blood spilled out onto her favorite purple dress, and Amelia’s nightgown and bare feet.

  The scream that ripped from Amelia’s body reverberated off the cave walls and startled the trees in the forest outside.

  Solace’s body crumpled to the ground. Nothing could stop it now.

  The magic churned and swelled above Amelia, a thick, dark cloud, a hurricane thirsty for a path of destruction. She shrank away, pulling her body down against the stone altar. The eleven shadowy figures, their faces lost in the fog of the spell, loomed over her frail body, like vultures sniffing out a meal.

  Nothing could free her.

  The possession spell would soon be completed and she’d be a part of their covens, a puppet forced to fill whatever role the nefarious Luminary desired. He would possess her mind, body, and magic.

  She would rather die.

  Please let me die. Please let me not survive this spell.

  Amelia’s wrists and ankles were raw and slick with blood under the thick metal chains that had been screwed into the stone floor of the cave. Spell after spell, whispered under her breath, failed to break the shackles, and her strength was nearly gone from tugging and pulling at them. Her wounds throbbed with every breath and flared with pain at the slightest movement.

  The black cloud above her continued to roil and crackle with building energy. Amelia tried to pull her attention from it, to coax her mind into another place, another time. A mist of desperate tears clouded her vision, but she locked her eyes on one small patch of her white nightgown that was still clean, still untouched by the events of the night. A small white circle, white as snow.

  A memory came, sudden and shocking in its beauty. The cave, the darkness, and the pain all fell away.

  The winter solstice, many years ago.

  Snow fell outside the windows of her childhood home, wrapping the world in white, spreading cozy silence through the streets of Twelve Acres. Her mother woke her just before dawn, as was their custom on winter solstice. With her tiny five-year-old hand held tightly in her mother’s, and sleep a happy memory on her heavy eyes, Amelia followed her mother into the living room.

  Grandma Ruby, crouched at the hearth, was building a fire, the scrape and shuffle of the wood breaking the morning silence. Her mother left her with Ruby and went to the kitchen. Amelia stood next to her grandma and watched as she snapped her fingers to bring the flames to life, the deep yellow light reaching out to bathe the room in heat. The wood crackled sleepily and the snow whispered on the windowsill.

  Amelia studied the strong, beautiful profile of her grandmother—her auburn hair woven with silver, her green eyes as bright as ever. Her child heart swelled with love and admiration for Ruby—grandma, friend, witch, and mentor.

  The scent of cinnamon and chocolate floated in from the kitchen, a special breakfast prepared for after their ritual.

  Ruby moved to the armchair near the fireplace and beckoned Amelia to sit in her lap. “Why do we build the fire, my love?”

  Amelia climbed into Ruby’s soft lap and said dutifully, “To welcome the sun’s returning light and to celebrate the longer days ahead.”

  Ruby smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes warming with the growing firelight. “That’s right. And why do we wake just before dawn?”

  “To ring the bells and watch the sunrise.” Eager to please and prove her knowledge, she added, “The bells call to the earth, asking for protection and good magic.”

  Ruby kissed her cheek and hugged her close. “So smart, my little witch.”

  Mother came back into the room, a black box in her hands, followed by Grandpa Charles and Amelia’s dad. Amelia scrambled down and ran over to pull her own special bell from the box. It was small, silver, and hung from a black, silk ribbon. It also had her name engraved on it in swirly letters. This special bell was saved only for winter solstice. Amelia had never heard anything produce as pure a sound as her winter bell. Her tiny fingers tingled to hold it.

  Mother handed her the bell with a smile. “The solstice is a time to remember that death is not an end, but a rebirth. The future is nothing to fear. The sun always comes up in the morning no matter how dark the night.”

  Dawn’s first joyful sunbeam burst into the room. Amelia ran to the window and lifted her bell. The snow paused in its descent, bowing reverently to the sunrise. Together, the family rang their bells.

  The tinkling sound of the bells echoed in Amelia’s head as reality pulled her back, a stinging slap to the face. The pain rushed back, assaulting every nerve, and she cried out in agony. This was her endless night and there would be no rising sun, no redemption, no salvation. And death—this awful kind of death—was not something good, not something that would bring rebirth.

  It would only bring more pain.

  Lasting, lingering long after her neurons stopped firing.

  Endless pain.

  One ghostly figure stepped toward her—the Luminary, his tall, thin, lethal body more intimidating than before. The stench of evil, of Dark, oozed from his skin and turned her stomach. He lifted his hand and a whimper escaped her lips despite her best efforts to remain strong. Dangling in the air, dripping down from his fingers, was a long silver chain and pendant. A crude piece, soldered by an unskilled hand, but plain in its purpose. The pendant was formed into the shape of a fat diamond with two stick legs—the symbol for possession. Amelia shook her head, tried to move away, fiery pain erupting as her body protested the movement.

  The witch dropped the silver chain over her head and pulled it into place around her neck. Where the pendant touched her bare chest, the skin froze and died in an instant. Terror moved through her in thick waves and she knew her mind and body could not take much more.

  Her chest ached as the necrosis from the necklace spread outward. She shivered and sweated all at once. Ruby’s face flashed before her eyes. “I’m sorry, Grandma,” she cried. “So sorry!”

  The Luminary stepped back into the circle and raised his hands to the swirling spell cloud. She knew this was the moment; she’d seen it in the water years ago. But what she didn’t know was the outcome. She would either be fully possessed or die.

  Please let me die. Sun and moon, I beg you. Let me die!

  The hurricane of magic was given a path.

  A terrible scream ripped from her body, so shrill and awful that her own ears didn’t recognize the sound.

  Then, there was only blackness.

  Chapter 20

  Waxing Crescent

  Present Day, Octobe
r

  It was nearly five in the afternoon before Simon pulled up in front of the gate to the ranch. The black gate had straight, narrow posts, and at the top, where the two halves met, the iron had been formed into a picture of a roaring fire. The gate was attached to a tall, gray stone wall that extended out in both directions, marking the boundaries of the property.

  He looked around for a keypad or lock. “So, how do we get in?” He looked at Wynter and Rowan in the rearview mirror. Rowan smiled and lifted his hand. With a wave of his fingers the gate opened. Simon raised his eyebrows and looked over at Willa, who was blinking at the gate. Simon drove through.

  The narrow dirt drive was lined with huge maple trees, their leaves a brilliant ruby for fall. He had never seen such vibrant foliage; he leaned over the steering wheel for a better look. Soon the house came into view beyond the red trees.

  Positioned on a slight rise in the ground, the impressive lodge-style log home boasted large windows and a steeply pitched roof supported by cedar character posts. The lower half of the façade was decorated with pristine stonework. Above, round handcrafted logs glowed yellow in the afternoon light, the white chinking visible between them. Behind the home, the Teton Mountains rose, jagged, angular, touched by the pink of the sun that was beginning to set.

  Simon parked his Jeep and they all hurried out of the car, their bodies stiff and humming from the road. Willa moved to him and took his hand. “Look at his place,” she whispered. He nodded, staring at the impressive, luxury home.

  The front door opened and a woman came bounding out, whooping in excitement. She was middle-aged, probably Wynter and Rowan’s age, with lovely curves and pleasant features. She wore a pink pearly-snap shirt and a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans tucked into turquoise cowboy boots. Her long blond hair trailed out behind her as she ran to Wynter, nearly knocking her over as she threw her arms around her friend.

  “Holy mother moon! I never thought I’d see ya again.” She pulled back, looking at Wynter from head to toe, tears running down her cheeks. “Poor thing! You are so skinny and . . .” she gasped and reached for Wynter’s scarred arm. “Oh, honey!” She threw her arms back around Wynter’s neck.

  Finally, Wynter was able to pull away and give introductions. “Simon and Willa, this is Darby. She’s our female Fire.”

  Darby turned her bright hazel eyes on the couple. She gasped and put her hands to her mouth. “Sun and moon, aren’t you two the cutest things ever!” Then she rushed forward and Simon winced as she pulled them both into a crushing hug. Willa laughed. Darby drew back. “I can’t thank y’all enough for bringing our Wynter back and now you’re joining our little covens and helping us form the Covenant.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “I just can’t believe how things have worked out.”

  Simon opened his mouth to protest. The Covenant? They hadn’t agreed to that yet and he didn’t think they could. He’d been planning to bring it up on the drive, but he and Willa hadn’t had a chance to talk about it alone, to discuss and decide. He’d only agreed to come to Jackson to keep Willa safe. He didn’t think that was implied consent. They’d only just found out they were witches. How could they join a coven and be part of something as huge as a Covenant? Things were already getting too out of control for his comfort; he wasn’t about to join up with a group of witches who were battling other witches, one of whom had broken into Willa’s mind.

  Before he had a chance to say anything, Darby grabbed one of his hands and one of Willa’s. “Come on ya poor things. In the house. Come meet everyone, have some supper and then I bet ya’d like a nice hot shower and some sleep, right?” She didn’t wait for a response and proceeded to drag them behind her into the house.

  The inside of the house was even more grand and impressive than the outside, all exposed wood, stone work and fine leather furniture. Conversation and laughter floated in the air, growing louder as they moved through the house. Darby pulled them into the massive kitchen where several more people were gathered around a long wooden table. All noise ceased the moment Simon and Willa entered the room.

  Simon frowned at the large antler chandelier above the table, swallowed and felt his cheeks grow hot. All eyes turned on them; he could see the expectations written on every face and feel the emotions in the air. He glanced over at Willa. She looked as apprehensive as he did.

  Darby charged immediately into introductions. “Look y’all! I want you to meet our new babies.” She swept them into her arms and pulled them closer to the table. “This little lovely is Willa, our new Dreamer, and this handsome young stud is Simon, our Mind. Aren’t they adorable?”

  A swarm of people advanced on him and Willa, offering hellos, nice-to-meet-yous, and glad-you’re-heres. Simon wanted to push away from them and run. But he gritted his teeth against the onslaught of their greetings and their emotions, more uncomfortable with each passing moment at the thought that they’d already assumed he and Willa had agreed to join them.

  Finally, Darby shooed them all back to the table. “Okay, kids, now let me give you the tour of all these crazies.” She pointed to two younger people. “Those two there are Charlotte and Elliot. They are your gift counterparts. Charlotte is a Mind and Elliot a Dreamer. You’ll want to be best-friends with them ‘cause they can help you the most with your gifts.”

  Willa lifted a hesitant hand and waved. Charlotte was petite with the look of a porcelain doll—white skin, red lips, and dark blond hair tied back in one long braid. She wore a red sweater and jeans. Elliot was also short, but broad and muscular, like a wrestler. His black hair was cut close to his head, and his skin and eyes were the color of milk chocolate. He wore a white polo shirt and faded jeans. Simon guessed they were both about his and Willa’s age. Elliot’s arm was around Charlotte’s shoulders, so he also assumed they were a couple.

  Darby moved on. “That big cowboy right there is my husband, Cal, and our other Fire.” She pointed to a large man, even taller than Simon, with a weathered, tanned face and big, light brown eyes. He nodded and smiled. “Those two over there,” Darby pointed to an elderly woman with dusty gray hair and another middle-aged man wearing geeky, horn-rimmed glasses, “are Hazel and Toby, our Airs.” Simon nodded stiffly.

  Next, Darby’s finger moved to an Asian girl, mid-twenties, with spiky black-blue hair and tattoo-sleeved arms, and another cowboy, early thirties, dressed in a carefully ironed denim shirt and sporting a large black Stetson. He tipped his hat as Darby said, “And finally these are our Waters. Rain—yes, that’s her real name; her parents went for the obvious there—and Corbin.” Rain rolled her eyes, but smiled.

  Exhaling, Darby turned back to Simon and Willa. “And, of course, our Earths, Wynter and Rowan round out the two covens.” She pointed to them as they came into the room and sat at the table. “So, have a seat and we’ll start dinner.”

  Simon didn’t move and neither did Willa. He wasn’t about to sit down with all these people and pretend everything was fine and that they were a part of the covens. He looked over at Willa and she moved around Darby, taking his arm.

  “Actually, Darby, I really don’t feel good. You know, after what happened . . .” Willa touched her head.

  Darby brought her hands to her chest, “Oh, yes, you poor thing. Wynter told me all about it when she called. Here, I’ll take you to your room and send up some food in a bit. Will that be okay?”

  Willa nodded. “Thank you,” she said weakly. Simon looked down at her, confused; he hadn’t sensed any pain from her. She flicked her eyes up to him and gave him a just-go-with-it look. So, he put his arm around her and supported her while they followed Darby to one of the many guest rooms.

  Darby fussed for a minute before finally leaving Willa and Simon alone. Willa exhaled and threw herself on the big four-poster bed dressed in a patchwork quilt. Darby had lit a fire in the large stone fireplace with a snap of her fingers and pulled the cream-colored curtains over the large windows.

  Willa lay on her back, looking up at the wooden beams, hands
on her stomach. Simon sat down next to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, but I couldn’t stay down there and I could tell you didn’t want to either.” She smiled when Simon sighed in relief.

  “Good! What’s going on? We never agreed to join the Covenant.”

  Willa shook her head, sharing Simon’s frustration. “I know. I’m as surprised as you are. Did Wynter and Rowan tell them we agreed, or is everyone just assuming since we’re here?”

  He scoffed. “Wish I knew.”

  She sat up and crossed her legs, sitting beside him. She rested her chin on his shoulder. “What do we do?” Simon was so careful about all his decisions. She knew he had already made a list of concerns and possible actions in his head. She was too confused to know which way to go. Part of her wanted to join, to be with other people like her, other witches. Her instincts were pushing her in that direction, but she had no idea what the reality of joining the covens would be. Her experiences since meeting Wynter hadn’t exactly been encouraging.

  “Well, first, we need to talk to Wynter and Rowan and tell them we have not agreed to join,” Simon said. “I think we need to train with them, learn about witchcraft and magic for a while before we can even come close to making that decision. Don’t you think?”

  Willa nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  There was a knock on the door. Simon got up and answered it, pulling the door wide open when he found Wynter and Rowan there with a tray of food. Wynter came over to the bed and sat by Willa while Rowan set the tray down on a table by the window. Wynter put her hand on Willa’s knee. “I’m so sorry about that. Darby jumped to conclusions. She’s a bit . . . enthusiastic about things, as I’m sure you gathered.” She smiled. “We know you haven’t agreed yet and we’d never assume to speak for you.”

  Willa exhaled in relief. “That is good to hear. We got a little nervous down there. It’s not that we necessarily don’t want to join. It’s just that . . . well . . .”