Halfway Drowned (Halfway Witchy Book 4) Page 20

  “Dawn. Not a second later, or everyone there will die.” I pointed to the darkness beyond my door.

  They ran, for their lives and for everyone in Halfway.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Catching Rays

  I stared at the ransom letter with a hatred that made my blood boil. It was the same hand from the previous warning, of that I was certain. I read it, then read it again to let the feeling burn inward, the shock giving me clarity of purpose that the vampirism had taken away, minute by minute.

  It was a list, and it demanded three things that would change my life forever.

  At dawn, you will bring me that which I need to survive, or Wulfric will not.

  Your first spell. Something of Wulfric. And your most magical core. Dawn, at the sands of the shore, or he dies with his lungs filled by the very lake you swore to protect. Do not tarry.

  I touched my charm bracelet out of habit, lifting the simple silver ring that I still carried with me as a reminder of my journey into witchcraft. It was a spell of motion, neither violent nor calm, but used to prove that I could move the natural world around me in harmony. A beginner’s spell that had brought me inordinate joy, it was elemental magic that any beginner witch could do. The charm was nearly black with oxidation, a hint of silver winking through with conspiratorial light.

  Very well. The beast could have it, and as to the second demand, I knew exactly what to use. I went upstairs and opened the dovetail wooded box Wulfric made with his own hands, the lid lifting silently to reveal an array of keepsakes he considered valuable. Inside, there were acorns, a bird skull, delicate and pale, and a few coins from places that had been old before McEwan women had ever sworn to protect Halfway. There was a tiny carved fox, its tail bristled with interest, the mouth curved in a laugh. It was a box filled with the whimsy and interest of the only man I would ever love, and I felt like a voyeur as I scanned the items, looking for the one thing I needed.

  It was in the corner, wrapped in a small piece of paper. In Wulfric’s neat hand, the packet read Hallerna. His sister’s ring. I took it without hesitation, knowing that he would do the same for me regardless of the importance. There were no relics anymore, only tools.

  As to the third thing, I would need a little help, and there was only one place I could find it. I nearly fell down the stairs in my haste to get outside, looking up into the moon with a look of entreaty on my face. It was her or nothing. Only sister moon could do what I needed, and only her light could give me a chance at undoing the terrible mistake that brought me here to this moment of pain and uncertainty.

  In bare feet, I stepped onto the lawn, feeling the grass compress under my feet. I began to slow my breath, my pulse, and everything that created noise. I needed silence for a prayer of such importance that I didn’t even trust myself to cast the spell.

  For the thousandth time in my life, my voice flared to life in my head as I began the incantation that would set me free or burn me to ashes. Details. Consideration. Meaning. With the scale in my hand, I began to unravel within, letting whatever was left of my spirit streak skyward into the silver light of Luna, her magnificence reaching to me across the yawning chasm of the void. I felt myself growing thin, then thinner, finally spiraling outward in thought and prayer to reach her light and ask, in terms so humble I felt the need to kneel, if she would grant me the power to make nothing from something.

  I waited. I was answered.

  In my hand, the scale curled, then grew, and then recast itself from a flat disk into something long, thin, and wicked. Inside, the moonlight stalked itself in hidden currents, the silvery light circling around to create a maelstrom of delicate light that illuminated the clear dagger from within. It was nearly weightless in my palm, resting with the touch of a whisper.

  It was also fragile, meaning I had one shot to pierce the chest of a monster who stood poised to rip my world apart. With my eyes upward, I muttered effusive thanks, sweeping a hand across the sky to spread my meaning far and wide. I never took without giving, and I wasn’t about to start.

  I was going to give the dagger of light to a creature I’d never seen, waiting for me at the edge of dark water that might be Wulfric’s tomb.

  For the last time before dawn, and possibly my life, I ran.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Fifth Degree Burn

  Thank the stars, Tammy had the beach cleared before I got there. Eerie details caught my eye as I centered myself and began a slow walk to where she waited. Cups of coffee steamed in the darkness, left behind in a hurry by the officers pulling night duty near the wreck.

  “They were a little hesitant to leave, but I convinced them after a little chat.” She grinned at me, her lipstick and nails gleaming in the moonlight.

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked her, marveling at how she appeared to be date-ready less than an hour before dawn.

  “Of course. But time of day is no excuse for looking bad. What if a boatload of hot Vikings showed up?” I noticed she wore her holstered .45, as well as sensible heels. She really had her act together, and despite my current predicament, I was a little bit jealous.

  “Did you wave the gun around to clear the beach?” I asked. I wasn’t against the idea, but it could create problems for everyone later on.

  “Didn’t have to, kid. I pointed to the water, told them what was coming, and explained that a pair of high-powered witches was coming to fight whatever came out of that lake. They agreed to hang back. I suspect most of them have a strong sense of self-preservation underneath the badges. Smart,” she concluded, scanning the dark water with her singular focus. When Tammy was dialed in on something she wanted, like a man, there was little that could derail her attention.

  “Speaking of smart, what about Eli?” I hadn’t seen him anywhere.

  “Safely ensconced a Gran’s. She suggested that he stay put.” Tammy’s eyes crinkled with humor at the idea of Eli being charmed for his own good. He was too curious to miss whatever was happening, but he was also woefully unprepared for magical combat. I nodded my approval, but didn’t look around for Gran. I knew she was close.

  “I heard about the letter. Ransom, right?” Tammy’s finger tapped her gun in an angry staccato. I knew she was furious, but trying to remain cool for my benefit. I wasn’t sure it mattered anymore.

  “Three things that I can give. Speaking of those, it’s time. You’ll want to step back for this, Tam. Oh--and a favor?” I looked down at the sand, gray in the moonlight.

  “Anything.”

  I turned to stare at her for a long moment, knowing that she might balk at my request. “If my spell doesn’t work, put a bullet in my head.”

  Silence stretched between us as she digested my wish. I could see her eyes grow wet, then she gave a small shake of her head, unwilling to do what must be done. “You’re sure?”

  “That’s not all. No matter what Gran says, burn my body. To ashes, then scatter them under the birch at the western corner of my yard. I’ve always loved that place.” I heard my voice grow soft with the recollection of better days. “Promise me?”

  “I--okay. I hate it, but I will. For you, Carlie.” Tammy kissed me on the forehead and vanished into the night with quick steps. I heard a sob, but it might have been the wind.

  “Touching,” said a voice in the dark. “I’ve heard better speeches in romantic comedies, but that will do.”

  She emerged from the lake in poisonous glory, slick and long with hands made for killing. I’d been expecting her, but nothing could have prepared me for her terrible beauty. Her scales were small and supple, her body long. Dark hair hung on her shoulders, wet from the lake and gleaming under the moon. She was nine feet of serpent, rising above the sand on a tail that flipped with disdain in the shallow water at lake’s edge. I thought she was blue, but that might have been a trick of the light. So many edges, and points--her teeth, her claws.
Eyes burning with the cold of deep water, and proud breasts high above ribs that flexed with each laboring breath.

  Then she began to change. Her tail drew short, forming shapely legs, and she walked from the water like an empress taking her throne.

  “I can’t do this all the time, but long enough to learn everything about you, Carlie. I’ve always been among your kind, blending in when needed. Lovely party for the child, by the way. It was exceedingly easy to leave a bottle of sleepwine for your burly lover. I’d still be in the deeps, but a recent setback made it necessary to accelerate my permanent changes.” She spoke as if we were confidants, drawing up ten feet away to loom over me in the dark.

  “Wulfric.” One word. One thought. My only demand.

  “Yes, him. After the gifts.” She held out a hand. It was long and dangerous looking.

  “Gifts are given freely. This is theft,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my dress for the first item. I had four pockets, three items, and one chance that was fading; even as my body warred with itself over a hunger so powerful my head swam.

  “Details,” she said. I dropped my charm in her hand, activating it quietly as I did. Behind her the water began to swirl lightly, circling as if in a giant tub. The whirlpool was slow but steady, reaching out some fifty feet into the bay.

  The charm hit her palm with a tiny plink. “The first step of a young witch. It’s good to know you were so dedicated, even at a young age.”

  “Don’t comment on my magic, siren.” My eyes began to narrow, but not from anger. My body was reshaping itself by the second.

  “Siren? Very astute, Carlie. I prefer the name Dafneh. It honors my particular abilities,” she said, smiling. Her teeth were bright.

  “Wulfric,” I said. “I don’t care what your skills are. I want him. Now. We have a contract, and I won’t deviate.” Even to me, I sounded dangerous. Dafneh was not impressed. She took another step toward me, and the scent of mossy water was almost overpowering.

  “The second gift, then.” Her hand extended again, slowly. I rubbed Hallerna’s ring one last time, dropping it in the siren’s palm. I felt something twist inside me, and it wasn’t shame. “Very good. This is as we agreed. I’d recognize it even without your stench.” Her smile was coy, almost flirtatious. I fought to keep a snarl in my throat, but only succeeded in growling like a cornered beast. In a sense, I was. “Tsk. Surely we can socialize as this progresses? Can’t you, ahh, wing it, as the young people say?”

  “The only thing I wing is my eyeliner, bitch. I want Wulfric. Now.” The dagger flashed into my hand without a thought, pointed directly at her heart.

  She drew back with a hiss, all composure gone with the appearance of a magical weapon. The dagger pulled light inward, beginning to glow deep within its crystalline core. It began to sear my hand with heat, and I winced out of habit. In truth, it didn’t hurt. Yet.

  “You break contract with such stupidity, little witch. Wulfric will be freed, but not before I fill his lungs with water!” She waved at the prow of the ship, which began to turn over with a hideous groan. In the distance, I could see the ship coming apart into large sections, then break further into individual planks. It was all clear to me just then, as I watched the goddess of the undertow work her destructive magic.

  Her power was purely elemental. That was why she needed me, to give her a life of endless sunrises, free of her need to hide in the chill depths of a lake, forgotten and alone with her collection of bones. What I had was nothing short of the spark of life, but it was fading as the sun began to purple the horizon. My chances for saving Wulfric were fading, too.

  “One last time, and then I use the dagger,” I told her. My conviction was total, just as her mockery was complete.

  Her laugh was the perfect cruelty of unfettered evil, and it hit me like a physical blow. “My own scales cannot harm me, little witch, no matter what clever casting you’ve done. Here, let me show you where to put it,” she said, teeth flashing in the growing light. In a blur, her hand flickered forth to plunge a talon into the spot over my heart, its withdrawal shooting a black spray of blood into the space between us. My nose rebelled at the scent, a mélange of copper and death that was no longer fully human.

  Dafneh looked at the slow, sludgy trickle from my wound, and knew. A jumble of calculations passed over her features as she drew the ugly conclusion that I was more dead than alive.”I don’t need your kind of gift, Carlie.” She hissed at me and began to recede into the water, but not before lifting Wulfric’s body from the depths with a muttered word. He hung limply above the surface, dripping and still. My breath caught at the sight of his body, and something snapped within me to let all the fear and rage pour into my mind for an instant of clarity that was beyond painful.

  It was the truth, and it cut more deeply than Dafneh’s nail ever could.

  “I have him,” Gran said, stepping out onto the water some distance away. Her voice rang out strong and true, and with a bolt of incandescent power, she seized Wulfric from the siren with a grunt of effort, dragging him toward her in a slow, methodical wake of magical energy. Distracted and off balance, Dafneh was no match for Gran, and she knew it. She chose her battle in the moment, letting Wulfric go from the spell of holding that had kept him quiescent in the hold of the Skraelingsdottir.

  He was safe. Alive, maybe, but safe from the siren, and that left one thing for me to do.

  She spat at my feet, then regained her composure with an effort. “No matter. I’ll dispose of the hag after you cook in the sun, little witch.” She laughed again, a ghastly noise of triumph and lust.

  “Not if you do first.” I knew what to do, and it made all of the hurt seem like a drop in the ocean. I thought of my last night with Wulfric, curled on his chest and awash in the kind of love they write songs about. I thought of Gran, mom and dad, Gus, Tammy, the diner--all of it flashing by in a cascade of shadow and memory that made my legs buckle with the enormity of what was coming. I knew, and had always known, since the moment I cast the spell on the scale from a monster who led men to their deaths in the cold darkness.

  With tears in my eyes, I reversed the dagger and plunged it into my heart.

  My howl of agony ripped across the water as I left my body, separating into elements so fine that I resembled a cloud of fireflies. Arms, legs, torso, and finally my mind shattered to form, dance, and reform into a maelstrom of everything I am, and all that the McEwan women could ever be. My spells chased each other in points of light, veering wildly among the smoke of my thoughts and the vapor of all the tears I’ve ever cried. All the laughter. And all the pain.

  Every kiss, heartbreak, and memory were all exposed to the onrush of dawn, finally coming together in a frenzied shell around the one dark mote that corroded my soul like a disease. Together, the lights began to nudge and push and harangue the darkness, moving it ever further from the collection of what I was and what I could be again, if only my purity of will could extinguish the worst mistake I’d ever made, and one I would gladly make again, despite the hideous cost.

  Inch by inch, the vampire’s touch lost purchase on my will, moving out over the water until it hovered, a luminous point of death that fought to stay out of the lake with a sorcerous tenacity. Beneath it, Dafneh stood, arms raised and urging the sun to rise faster in a futile gesture born of arrogance and hate. She had nowhere to go, and she could not abandon me in the event that my magical essence could still be stolen. Her greed made her stay still. My purity made her vulnerable.

  With a massive rush of flickering lights, the blackened curse of the vampire plunged down into Dafneh’s mouth, vanishing in a blaze of sickening darkness. Inside her evil body, the blood curse bloomed like a rotten vine, twirling through her innards to rest around her heart as if it had always been there. She shuddered, then arched her spiny back to rear up in a pose of raw agony. I exhaled in sickened relief, a symphony of pain wracking my body eve
n as I fought to remain on my feet.

  Dafneh began to turn lightly as the current from my first spell moved her, its gentle pressure indistinguishable from any stream or river. All of Gran’s teaching came to fruition in that moment, all of the planning, the discipline--everything it meant to be a good witch with a clean heart.

  I’d known the unseen beast would be too powerful for one of my spells, but two attacks would be fatal. That knowledge shaped my will as I’d cast the spell on her scale, planning ahead for contingencies that would lead to victory or death. In the sum of my witchcraft lay the seeds of my freedom, if only I could look back into my own past to find them.

  So I did.

  The very things that had kept Wulfric prisoner for a thousand years--running water and sunshine--were going to set me free.

  The sun rose over the Adirondacks, its first rays of light skimming the lake in glorious brilliance. Inside Dafneh, the vampirism took hold, assaulted by running water from my spell and the incipient blaze of a summer’s dawn. She began to shriek, even as her scales warped under the sun, steam cracking her skin in agonizing chasms along her serpentine body. I took no joy in her demise, only thinking of the countless men she’d led to their deaths under the churning waters of the world. With a series of dull thumps, her ribs began to break as the vampire’s curse pulled her inward to a crumbling conclusion, her pieces falling into the water with hissing finality.

  Waves spread from her dying place, filled with fleeting colors of magical light as Dafneh’s soul began the long journey to a cold place where she would answer for a lifetime of evil.

  “Carlie?” Gran asked. I was looking up at her, unsure how I’d come to rest on the sandy beach.

  “I’m whole?” I coughed, rolled over, and felt a searing pain in my chest. Blood welled up, and it was gloriously warm on my skin. It was the blood of a woman. It was mine.