Blood Moon Page 24

  “Are you ready?” Simon’s deep voice whispered into her ear, sending pleasant chills down her body. She turned. He looked stunning in his black attire, the long frock coat accenting his broad shoulders.

  “Ready,” she said with a smile and took his arm. The difference was subtle, but to her it was impossible to miss. Something had changed inside him, something rooted in what had happened at the cave. It was hard to decide on the nature of the change. His powers were more potent than ever as he’d demonstrated in training every night, but he wouldn’t talk about it. She’d tried to bring it up so many times, but he’d smoothly change the subject. Willa didn’t understand why, but something about this was untouchable, forbidden.

  No one else talked about what he’d done at the cave either. It had been swept under the rug, ignored like a mistake, but certainly not forgotten. She saw the way Rowan and Wynter watched him with narrowed eyes and the exchange of whispers.

  It’d only been a week, though. Perhaps time would mend the awkwardness.

  The other witches gathered around as Rowan stood at the table. He cleared his throat and the group quieted.

  “First, we present Willa and Simon with their Gift Necklaces.” He smiled at them and gestured for them to step forward. This was a surprise; no one had mentioned anything to Willa about necklaces. Wynter joined Rowan and held out two small black boxes, handing one to Willa and one to Simon.

  “These are your Gift necklaces,” Rowan explained. “This is a new tradition Wynter and I chose to begin with our Covenant. Each necklace is infused with magic and tied to the Covenant Binding. We’ll use them in our Covenant rituals. They also act as a form of protection to us.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a long silver chain from which dangled a triangular symbol. Willa recognized it from Ruby’s book as the Earth symbol. “We’ve given them to each person who has joined our covens. You are the last two to receive them.”

  Wynter gestured to the boxes. “Open them,” she whispered excitedly.

  Together they lifted off the tops. Inside, on a swath of black silk, lay Willa’s necklace. The platinum chain was long, thin. From it hung a quarter-sized pendant shaped in the Dreams symbol, an upside-down triangle with two interlocking circles inside. She touched the pendant and gasped at how warm the metal was to the touch, heated by magic. Her hand tingling, she lifted the necklace from the box and lowered it over her head. It fell to the center of her breast bone. Immediately, a rush of magical energy moved through her from head to toe. Her pulse quickened and a smile spread on her lips.

  Simon was also wearing his necklace now, the chain slightly thicker, more masculine, but the Mind symbol, a triangle with a dot just under the apex. He fingered the symbol and then looked up at her, his eyes dark with thoughts. She took his hand.

  Wynter gestured for them to join her in the circle of witches now formed around the flickering candlestick. Rowan rested his hand on Ruby’s open book and sighed contentedly.

  “It’s been a long, hard road, but here we are.” He reached out and took Wynter’s hand. Happy tears balanced on the edges of her eyes. “Our patience and sacrifices are about to pay off.

  “Tonight our gifts come together in a way we have never experienced. Within our circle of twelve, the magic will have endless power, and the Powers of the Earth, the origin of all magic, will have a faithful group of stewards.” His gaze moved affectionately around the circle. “Let’s begin by joining the symbols.”

  Wynter leaned close to Willa and Simon. “This is where we separate into covens—female and male—and then join our necklaces together. Willa, come with me. Simon, Rowan will show you what to do.”

  Willa looked up at Simon, touched his arm and then moved away with Wynter. Charlotte grinned as Willa approached and pulled her into the spot next to her. When Char and Wynter and the other three women took off their necklaces, Willa followed.

  “Now hold it out like this,” Char whispered and gripped her pendant between her finger and thumb, lifting it to the center of their small circle. Willa did the same, meeting her coven-mates in the middle. “Now let go.” Char grinned excitedly.

  Willa let go and her necklace, along with the others, hovered in the air, chain hanging down from the suspended pendant. Amazed, she watched as the pendants came together, fused into a circle of six parts and spun to life. She moved with the other women back into one large circle. The two hovering, spinning circles of Gift symbols, one for the female coven and one for the male, moved to hang above the candle’s flame.

  “Join hands,” Rowan called.

  Willa took Simon’s hand in her right and Char’s in her left. Charlotte smiled and lifted her eyebrows.

  “Here we go,” Willa whispered. A twist of nervous anticipation turned Willa’s stomach, her heart beat madly in her chest. Here we go!

  Simon squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.

  Rowan inhaled deeply and then read from Ruby’s grimoire, his voice solemn and thick with his accent:

  “Silver light of the sacred Blood Moon

  We call to your strength, our magical cocoon.

  Grant us the power to carry the Light,

  To protect the magic with all our might.

  All the gifts we join this day,

  The Powers of the Earth, the one true way.

  A Covenant of Light, now forged for good,

  We bind forever, our true path understood.”

  All heads turned upward. The blood moon glimmered in the dark sky, sending a stream of pearly light down from the heavens. It snaked and undulated, moving through the air down to the Covenant. When it reached the willow it splintered, falling over the tree’s canopy like a firework’s sparks, raining down in brilliant bands of moonlight.

  The light continued to move, seeking out the witches. Awestruck, Willa watched a band of light spiral around her, starting at the crown of her head and moving downward. The temperate thread felt like the brush of wings on her skin, kissing, caressing, and then seeping in to rest in the space behind her heart—her soul. When it reached its home, a pleasant burst of energy shot through her body.

  Willa gripped Simon and Charlotte’s hands tighter. A tangible, palatable vigor moved through her. It felt glorious, like every part of her was more awake, more alive, brighter. Power filled her, strength so shocking in its potency that she drew in a sharp breath. Magic hummed along every nerve and the earth called out to her. For a moment, she felt connected to every tree, every blade of grass, every flower, every animal nearby, but also to the moon, the stars, and the sun in the firmament. She inhaled the crystalline connection of all things and knew that she was forever changed.

  In a burst of magic, she felt the heartbeat of everyone in the circle, felt hers match theirs.

  “We are now bound to each other, body, soul and magic. We are a Covenant,” Rowan announced, his voice rising triumphantly. He snapped his fingers and the black candle flame extinguished. Then the necklaces broke apart and floated through the air to their rightful owners. Willa pulled her own necklace from the air and dropped it over her head, the symbol hot against her chest.

  A huge cheer rose from the group. Charlotte pulled Willa into a hug. “We did it! We did it! That was amazing!” She yelled.

  Willa laughed, sharing in the feeling of triumph. She turned to Simon. “We did it.”

  He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “We did it.” He kissed her hair. Over his shoulder, she caught the shimmering form of a ghost.

  “It’s Ruby!” Simon turned, but didn’t see what Willa saw. “I’ll be right back.”

  Willa ran over to Ruby, standing in the field of weeds behind the willow. “Ruby! You’re here. When I didn’t see you earlier I worried something had happened.”

  Ruby smiled. “Something did happen. After you left, I crossed over into the Otherworld, finally able to rest and be with my family and ancestors. The spirits of the dead are not supposed to stay here.”

  “Then how are you here?”

  Ruby lo
oked up at the sky. “The power of the blood moon thins the barrier between the worlds. I was able to come back to see the Binding. Thank you for helping make this happen, Willa. You’ve made the right choice.”

  A knot of emotion formed in Willa’s throat at the words. “Thank you, Ruby. It was an incredible experience and I hope we do your legacy justice.”

  Ruby smiled, her face flickering out of focus. “I have no doubt.”

  “I saw Amelia, Ruby. She’s a ghost at the cave.”

  Ruby frowned and sighed. “I know. My poor Amelia. I was able to help arrange her meeting with you, but she didn’t cross over after as I had hoped. The Otherworld has its own schedule.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled again and then looked away. “I must go now, Willa. Goodbye.”

  Ruby was gone before Willa could say her goodbye. Instead of immediately returning to the group, she stood alone for a moment, looking back at the happy sight of her friends, of her coven-mates. Her body still pulsed with the energy of the Binding, her heart hummed happily. She turned her head to the bright moon and felt a caress of warmth on her face. Smiling, she closed her eyes.

  I’m a witch.

  Epilogue

  New Moon

  The Near Future

  Amelia left the cave and hurried through the forest, as she’d done every night for the last several weeks. The cabin was dark and quiet, a sleeping beast tucked under the trees. She put herself just outside the second-story balcony doors. No matter how many times she saw it, she couldn’t stop the grimace at the hideous scene beyond the glass. A flash of memory crossed her mind, something she tried so hard not to remember—herself, old, twisted, and deformed. Waiting and wanting to die. She shook the memory away, refusing to compare herself to or have any compassion for the man in the bed.

  Movement in the dark room caught Amelia’s attention. The blond woman moved around the bed, adjusting tubes and wires, trying desperately not to look at the creature in the bed. Amelia didn’t blame her. It was painful to look at the deformed features, hairless head, and melted skin that festered and oozed. White bandages spotted with red blood and yellow pus covered almost all of the body; and so many tubes and instruments protruded from the form that Amelia was reminded of nightmarish sea creatures.

  The creature in the bed stirred slightly, a gurgle of sound came from his throat. Amelia had seen the firestorm in the cave, heard his inhuman screams, and was amazed that the witch had survived. She watched the woman bend over and turn her ear to the lipless mouth. He was trying to speak. Amelia moved closer and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Without hesitating she slipped in, trying hard to ignore the sting of Darkness still so strong despite the witch’s injuries.

  The woman leaned closer as more gurgling noises came from what was left of the man’s throat. Amelia moved next to the woman, so close she could see the small lines around her eyes. The man struggled to push the words from his fire-ravaged body. At first there were only a few soft clicks and grunts, but then the words took form on his tongue, moving into the room like noxious vapor.

  “Get . . . me . . . Bartholomew’s . . . book.”

  Acknowledgements

  Sometimes, even for a writer, there are no better words to express gratitude than to say THANK YOU. The following people deserve thanks in abundance, rewards in heaven, and lots of homemade brownies.

  First, my little family. My husband, Matt, who is everything I ever dreamed of, and more. I couldn’t do this without you. My three babies who keep life interesting, chaotic, and wonderful. You are the best kids in the world. Thank you for helping me discover and accomplish my dreams. I love you forever.

  To my parents. There are never enough words to thank my incredibly supportive and amazing parents. Thank you for believing, for babysitting, and for pretty much everything! I love you so much.

  My five siblings: Carol, Kenneth, John, Paul, and Maren. You are my best friends and the most fabulous people I know. Thank you for always being there and for always understanding. To Austin, Teri Mae, and Maddie: I’m so glad that each of you have joined the craziness and fit right in. I love you all!

  To Matt’s family: Jill, Brett, Marci, Ryan, Jana, Scott, James, Erin, Mary, and McLean. Thanks for being the best second family anyone could ask for and for all the incredible support. Love you much.

  Fran and Jenn, of Literary Counsel, my rock star literary agents. Thank you, Fran, for believing in me from the first, and Jenn, for being a champion of my work. You are both so wonderful!

  To the talented people at Jolly Fish Press, especially Christopher Loke and Kirk Cunningham. Your tireless efforts and enthusiasm are deeply appreciated. Thank you for making my book so beautiful and for believing in my work. I’m so lucky to be swimming in the fish tank.

  A special thanks to the designers at Pixology Design and my editor Chris for creating the most perfect and most beautiful book cover an author could ever dream of.

  To my beta readers: Marci, Maren, Jill, Matt, Kenneth, John, and Teri Mae. I apologize for subjecting you to such awful writing, but thank you so much for the input and advice.

  To my fellow author, Jennifer Griffith, I owe you so much thanks and truck loads of cold cereal. Without your expert advice, Blood Moon would not have found its full potential.

  A shout-out to my book club ladies who share my love of good books, and once a year indulge my love of a good Halloween witch party. You were all there when this story began and I love you.

  Thank you to all those who have read my blog, followed my social networks, read my KSL columns, and watched my Studio 5 segments. I truly appreciate your support.

  Finally, a huge and resounding thank you to YOU, the reader. Stories mean nothing unless they are shared and loved by others. Thanks for being a part of this story.

  Author photo © 2013 by Christopher Loke

  Teri Harman has believed in all things wondrous and haunting since her childhood days of sitting in the highest tree branches reading Roald Dahl and running in the rain imagining stories of danger and romance. Currently, her bookshelf is overflowing, her laundry unfolded, and her three small children running mad while she pens bewitching novels. Utah is her home, but she often imagines living in the wild landscapes of the Pacific Northwest.

  Come share in the magic and chaos at

  www.TeriHarman.com.