Summon (Rae Wilder)

  Rae Wilder #4

  SUMMON

  PENELOPE FLETCHER

  Copyright © 2013 Penelope Fletcher

  All rights reserved by the Author

  Kindle Edition

  Artwork © Renu Sharma | TheDarkRayne.com

  All characters and events in this novel are fictitious and resemblance to real persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. No part of this novel may be reproduced, stored or transmitted without the prior permission in writing from the author.

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  DEDICATION

  Stephenson,

  I love you. Unconditionally.

  Fletcher

  CHAPTER ONE

  Breandan

  It was begun.

  Light flickered across my sweat-slicked flesh. Heat from the pyre shrouded my stiff limbs, and the cloying smoke rushed thick and ashy down my throat.

  Heavy drumbeats shook the ground. Subtle vibrations shimmied through the soles of my booted feet and up my calves. I convinced myself the tremble weakening my knees was due to the drums rather than fear, the erratic rhythm of my pulse excitement rather than panic.

  The booming drumbeat deepened. The dark called the dark.

  Orange sparks swirled into the twilight. Conjured gnarled shapes in the air. The haunting sigils iced the soul before scattering into chaos by chilled winds.

  Shadowed creatures ringed the fire. Each paid tribute.

  Attention closed to the accusing glares targeting my back, my jaw clenched.

  I refuse to give up.

  My gaze roamed those gathered searching for weakness. Any threat sensed to the ritual’s success would be ruthlessly ended. I boldly met the gazes of the demons and glimpsed fear but no condemnation. Good. Shame would not stop me.

  Nothing will prevent me bringing her back. I’ll die trying.

  Surviving prisoners from Cael’s Coven bargained for their lives by offering magical strength as tithe to the resurrection. The tainted energy of witchcraft hummed in air. It crackled as it flowed from their forms in multi-coloured streaks.

  As dangerous as it was to use them, wrathful and deceitful in nature as they were, it meant a greater chance Lochlann, Ana, and those I did care for would leave the ritual with residual power.

  We had no idea what shape we’d be in after the resurrection was complete. This was the reason Lochlann ordered Conall to remove his presence from the Wyld Heart. He was strong in magics and fiercely protective of Rae. One of us had to remain at full strength to protect the others, and with Rae directly concerned, Conall accepted bowing out.

  Movement at the edge of the trees caught my interest.

  I relaxed under the watchful emerald eyes, twinkling like stars in the darkness.

  Alec was Rae’s friend, and I trusted him. As promised, his Pride protected the Wyld Heart. Guardians who were oath-sworn to keep the sacred circle pure until it was over.

  A flash of fiery hair next to the shifter revealed Maeve disobeyed the warning to stay away. My sister clung to the Alpha shifter, a complication that needed solving, and soon.

  The raptor Clan nested high on the boughs of the ClanTrees. Heads cocking they remained unruffled by my scrutiny. Their overlarge eyes shifted in short jerks, intensely focused on the movement surrounding me.

  Weaving edgily through the gloomy woods, the wolf Pack too refused to take part in the ritual.

  These breeds of shifter wanted no part in what they considered a perverse misuse of power. Instead, they agreed to watch over the remnants of the fairy Tribe remaining at the Wyld, insulted when asked to swear an oath. My brother Lochlann, the fairy High Lord had nothing but the word of their Alphas that they would stay when he weakened.

  Gita and Kalcifer were merely present as silent witnesses. They stood outside the circle in human form to withhold the strength of their kind from the spell.

  I bore them no ill will.

  Another pledged the animalistic power intrinsic in the two natured.

  Amelia paced the fire’s edge.

  Yellow eyes sharp, her black-tipped tail flicked in agitation. She stopped, and her tufted ears swivelled. An ochre paw rose from the ground and froze.

  A caterwaul rose above the din.

  I scanned the circle’s periphery. Cael escaped justice. He remained a deadly threat to all I treasured, and I worried this communication between the shifters meant trouble.

  Amelia’s paw dropped, and she relaxed. Wailing a reply she flashed sharp ivory teeth. Her feline face tensed, wary, but she resumed her measured pacing.

  Baako plodded closer to the pyre. His hulking body appeared a moving hillock in the darkness. Chuffing, the bear’s snout wrinkled, and his heavy breaths stirred the dirt. His black eyes never left the fire. Like many that withstood the ritual, he was drawn to Rae and stoutly refused to leave until she returned.

  I readily admit jealousy rose at first notice of his attentions. I prepared to challenge him as I had the vampire, but Baako’s fixed interest on Wasp made it clear his attraction to Rae was familial.

  He’s not a threat to me.

  The power of the circle increased.

  Casting a distracted glance across the pyre, I stalked closer to the pit, and looked through it to where the magics swirled in a vortex.

  Sat serenely in the centre was a solitary figure. The white witch cast her black spell.

  Unseeing pupils were milky white. Her rosebud lips moved ceaselessly, muttering an incantation that had claw-tipped chills raking my spine.

  Ana broke her monotonous chanting to gasp. She rocked on the spot. Keened. Drew deep on her ancestral powers. Half witch and half fairy, she cast the magics of both, her body the vessel that merged these powers of old.

  The grimoire – a book of witchcraft – lay open at her knees. Its aged pages gleamed, lustrous and seductive. Ana’s pallid hands rubbed them, fingers stilling as they ran over the inked calligraphy. They cramped, curling until her nails were thorn-like points digging into the flesh of her palms. Shuddering through the discomfort she continued reciting the spell. Her chanting rose in pitch and tempo. Voice harsh and desperate.

  Choking on the words, she grabbed her throat in a panic. Eyes popping wide, her head snapped back, and her body heaved. She froze at an odd angle. Her reedy sob sliced through the clamour.

  A remembered warning flashed in my mind as I rocked onto my toes. Hands fisting at my sides, I forced my gaze away and blocked her wail of pain. Ana told me this would happen. I cannot touch her until it’s done. Calling on the darker forces hurt. It threatened to leave nothing behind, a test to frighten the weak.

  Ana vowed to withstand the pain if I swore nothing would stop the reincarnation being fulfilled.

  As promised, I’d pay the price.

  No matter how steep.

  I wouldn’t be the weak link. Rae’s kin wouldn’t suffer alone, not when a mere look of faith from me might gift Ana the strength to carry on.

  Braced for horror, I turned to the pyre. Blanched. Other gods, the display is sickening. My stomach twisted in knots. Nurturing instincts reared in fury at Ana’s pain, and I bit my tongue until blood wet my lips to keep from reaching for her.

  Ana went limp, hitting the dirt on her knees. The test was passed. Tears of triumph rolled down her flushed cheeks as she dragged herself onto her feet.

  Determination thinned her mouth as she chanted again.

  Curls of magics twisted around her legs. It speared her flesh in swells of inky smoke then seeped from her skin as wispy coils. The magics sheathed her in darkness until her glowing silhouette was the sole indication she
hadn’t been consumed whole.

  The smoke fanned through the circle, a blustery explosion leaving her luminous in the middle.

  Papa Obe strode into the glowing light cast by the fire and stood at her back.

  I hated his attendance, but Ana needed his power and guidance.

  After all, bringing something back from the dead was what the Vodoun did best.

  Obe smirked at my ire. He stretched a large hand over Ana’s head.

  Humans Rae matured with at the Sect Temple flanked him.

  Roland, a burly male with brown skin and stark hazel eyes focused on his undertaking. His hair was plaited to his skull with filigreed beads decorating the ends. His brow lowered in concentration as he chanted. This human deserved to be here. My appreciation of what he’d risked for Rae rescuing her from the Temple and the wretched hands of the Clerics torturing her lent him my protection for as long as he wanted it.

  Rattled and sweaty, Lex a beautiful yet vapid human darted fearful looks at the Houngan. Why did Rae love her? She’d grieved fiercely when Devlin sacrificed the girl’s life for the Tribe. Slapped the hand of death itself and brought the human back. I hadn’t discovered what traits the girl possessed to inspire such devotion. Was my perspective too limited? Rae had an unparalleled ability to love. The girl cannot be so insipid if she fears the High Priest of her kind.

  The Vodoun closed their eyes. Stomped their feet with the drums.

  Obe shook his staff at the sky. He heckled and demanded the forces guiding him to take heed.

  Ana shuddered violently. Her eyes clouded to solid white. Sightless pearls. “Payment.”

  Obe’s eyes glowed like hot coals. A heartless smile curved his thick lips. “Payment,” he cried.

  The witches funnelling their power into Ana convulsed. Their eyes wheeled to the Vodoun Priest, wide and staring. “Payment.” They screeched in chorus, hands reaching, fingers curling. “Payment in blood.”

  Ana shrieked, an agitated sound that echoed and silenced the rest.

  Intricately carved from blackened steel an athame of smoke appeared in her palm.

  Ana thrust her hand into the fire. She wrenched the blade down separating an invisible veil then jerked it up severing a cord.

  She stared blankly as the flames peeled her flesh and her skin blistered. She coolly turned her gaze to me.

  Countenance grim, she nodded.

  My turn.

  Numbness spread throughout my body. I trembled. Doubt crept with silent feet and turned me to stone. My strength became engaged in keeping my legs from folding.

  “Brother.” Lochlann’s body shook with the effort of calling out. “Beware.”

  Sweat beaded his brow as he sent his formidable power into the magical current. Despite his disapproval of what I’d done, Lochlann was there for me. He wouldn’t let me fail when there was a breath left in his body. It was his nature to lead when others faltered.

  Hovering at Lochlann’s side, Daphne’s expression went from anxious to alarmed. The vampire’s eyes roved, nervous and unsure of what kindled Lochlann’s portent of danger.

  Finding nothing amiss, her gaze returned to my brother, and she calmed.

  The freckles covering her fair skin faded in the low light. Her braids were tied into a messy knot at the back of her head, a style Rae often wore.

  The two shared much on the journey back from the Northern City. She helped ease Rae when the tension between us in the aftermath of Tomas’ death became too much. They bonded over their joint suspicion of Gunarr, and the protection of the grimoire. Rae had stood up for Daphne at the Meet, and the vampire appreciated it. She stayed to fulfil the oath to her dead Sire, even though Rae’s death negated the pledge.

  For a heartbeat, Lochlann held my gaze. His chin lifted.

  I grabbed the comfort my Elder’s support gave. If I didn’t make the sacrifice Rae couldn’t return. I’d have to find a way to join her in the Otherworld, a thing not possible until my death.

  My brother, a lord I admired since childhood demanded strength of me. How could I fail him? How can I think of backing out of this and failing Rae?

  I was a godling, my lifespan indefinite. Without my chosen female at my side that was not acceptable.

  I shoved my hand into the flames.

  The hairs on my arms disintegrated, and delirious with victory I clasped the athame hilt.

  Pain tore through my hand and raced up my forearm. How did the witch endure this? Bellowing my agony, I pulled my fist from the burning orange mass. Gagged. My melted flesh prickled as it healed.

  Sparks twirled into the night sky, the embers fed as Ana’s blackened fingers crumbled to ash. She staggered, and knelt to catch a breath. She clutched her damaged hand to her chest, and hunched until she bent-over-double. As she uncurled her eyebrows pleated in confusion. Gaze dropping, the vacant expression left her face. A ghastly look of realization dawned, and her rounded eyes stared at the mangled stump. Her mouth moved, but no words came.

  Before she sucked in enough air to scream, her agonized grimace eased and her gaze unfocused. “I feel her,” she whispered. “She’s coming.”

  My heart soared. Excitement warred with hope to replace the fear infecting my thoughts until that precious moment.

  Ana rose from her knees cradling her wrist. “Now pay what you promised.” She limped forward. “Breandan, please. They demand it. Payment. You must pay what was promised.” Her fingers dug into the skin of her scorched wrist. Her eyes lifted heavenward. “Gods, the screaming.”

  Dropping to my knees before the flames, I swayed drunkenly. Panted for air. The athame shook in my rigid grip, and the hilt pressing into my palm burned.

  A predator baiting crippled prey, Obe leapt over the pyre warbling his conquest. He landed stooped not a foot clear of the flaming pit. He prowled closer. Bony fingers raked the earth and scooped loose dirt into his palm.

  Circling, wary of my every twitch, his eyes gleamed.

  Obe’s arms bent at the elbow then unfolded jerkily. In parody of a blessing, he shook his bone staff over my hunched shoulders and muttered guttural words. He spat on the ground and splayed his fingers. Cheeks puffing, he blew the fistful of dirt into a gritty cloud above the crown of my head.

  The flames roared in retaliation. Climbed fifteen feet into the air.

  My nostrils flared at the pungent smell of burning herbs and oils.

  Papa Obe turned his face to the sky with his arms outstretched in supplication. Answering winds blew hair across his sunken face. He bayed twisted prayers with such force the shifter-tooth necklace strung around his neck jangled. The Priest stomped his dusty feet, and beat his bared chest in powerful thumps that left bruises.

  Fiery heat blasted through the circle, unnaturally powerful.

  My focus sharpened on the Houngan. He was too involved. This was not what Ana suggested would happen.

  Obe stilled. “Payment,” he barked. He thrust his staff at me. His eyes blazed like pits of hell, and his mouth yawned wide as he moaned.

  Tearing my eyes from him, I fought to keep my head lifted instead of bowed in surrender to the magics ferociously overwhelming the circle.

  It was hard to breathe as I stared at the pyre. Mesmerized. The base of the flames deepened to crystal-clear blue. Disbelieving of the sin I embraced, I flinched as excited voices whispered in my mind. They crooned and sighed. Called to darkness inside me I’d never acknowledged.

  In a trance, I flipped the athame and set the blade tip over my heart.

  It beat wildly.

  “Can’t,” Gita spat. Glassy and dazed, I looked over my shoulder to find her face twisted in disgust. She recoiled from my gaze. “I can’t watch this.”

  As she stalked away, her body Changed from human to eagle.

  The raptors screeched a greeting as their leader took to the sky and joined them. The furious beating of their giant wings sounded like thunder as they departed.

  Amber eyes glinted with impatience in the dark. The watching wo
lves were disturbed by the raptor’s departure and howled in anticipation of leaving.

  Chin jutting, Kalcifer growled. “Calm yourselves.” He spun to his Pack, his Alpha power subduing them. “We stay until the end.”

  Refusing to be discouraged, my fingers tightened their grip.

  Moments of pain for eternity with the one I loved. Forever cursed by death to bring forth life.

  It’s worth it. Pain is fleeting.

  Arms lifted high, I roared as the blade descended. I choked on my own blood as I carved. It burned. The poisoned tip marked my chest and solidified the offering.

  Relief stole through me, and I chuckled darkly.

  Yes, it begins.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Breandan

  “Wait.” Ana stumbled as if shoved. Pale with terror her arms flailed battling unseen foes. “Something’s wrong. Something else breaks free.” Her eyes snapped into focus. She spun to the Vodoun and pointed damningly. “You. I know one of you summons them.”

  Lex’s stomping faltered. She held up her hands. “Don’t look at me.”

  Roland speared Ana with a hateful look. “We’re not to blame.” As his mentor kept chanting instead of supporting the claim, Roland’s eyes bugged as he reared back. “Papa?”

  Discarding pretences Obe pushed Ana from the dais where the currents of energy formed a crux.

  Spitting curses, Roland grabbed Lex’s hand to pull her back. Incredulous, shaking his head, he stared imploringly at the Houngan. “They will kill us. Eat our souls.”

  “The time has come,” Obe rasped. “They shall walk among us.”

  “They’ll walk inside us. Fool. The whispers ruined you. We walk the path of darkness but only to balance the light.” Roland’s voice broke, anguished. “You’ve fallen to darkness.”

  Obe levelled a red-eyed glare at the young Vodoun. “You will welcome them, Bokor. Welcome them or die.”

  “Destroy him,” Roland warned, his eyes fixed forbiddingly on Papa Obe. “Destroy him before it’s too late.”