The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  “Exactly.” Kat stood, blocking her exit. “Why? To keep you down. To prevent you from reaching. She and Mother were tight.”

  The truth lies in the past.

  Not the truth “lay” in the past. The truth lies in the past.

  So who was lying? Nan? Kat?

  Kat dabbed at her brow with the end of the scarf and Lilith zeroed in on the action. “Are you sick?” It was far too warm in here for a coat and scarf. “Why are you wearing that?”

  Kat tried to brush past her and Lilith grabbed her arm.

  She hissed, her whole body tensing.

  What in the world? Lilith pulled up the sleeve to Kat's coat, revealing swollen bruises beneath. She pulled down the scarf to find more of the same. “Who did this?”

  Kat shot her a sidelong glance that spoke volumes.

  Good gods, all this time she'd thought Kat the luckiest of them all because her mother still lived. She thought Kat lucky, so she chalked the woman's skittishness up to shyness. She'd ignored Rowena's high-handedness, thinking her simply over-protective. “Can't you . . .?” She motioned to the bruises.

  “Heal myself?” Kat shook her head, her face flushing with color. “We all have limits.”

  “Gods, Kat. What the hell is going on?” She started unbuttoning the coat. “You need this off before you melt.”

  Kat lifted her chin, allowing Lilith to unwind the scarf. “She's demanding we capture daemons to sacrifice on Samhain.” She gasped as Lilith pulled off her coat. “I stood up to Mother, that's all.”

  She set the coat and scarf aside and stared at Kat. More was going on than what she’d admitted so far. Something must have happened to instigate their rebellion. “Why?”

  Kat's eyes filled with tears. “I get lonely.” Her cheeks colored and she looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard. “I mean, we all do, right? The others, they have their daughters, at least.”

  Loneliness Lilith understood. “I know. Me, too.”

  “So, I asked the goddess to help me find my mate.” Kat swiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

  Lilith sucked in a deep breath. “You didn't.”

  She nodded.

  “Rowena found out?”

  “No.” A burst of ill-humor burst from her. “Gods, no. It's just when she started in with all this crap about capturing daemons for sacrifices . . . .”

  Lilith closed her eyes. “Who's your mate?”

  “He doesn't want me to say his name out loud.”

  “Dear gods.” Her mate must be daemon.

  “I’ve only met him on the astral a few times. But now I know he’s out there. Now I’m worried. I mean, what if the coven does start hunting daemons and he’s sacrificed?”

  Lilith took her hand.

  “I remembered what you did when we were kids, you know. And your mate, he showed up. And I thought, what if my mate is out there? What if I didn't have to be so lonely and . . . .” She shrugged helplessly.

  And now she needed a champion. Someone who would stand with her. “Okay.” She pulled Kat into her arms and gave her a gentle hung. “Okay, I'm on your side. I'll help with over-throwing Rowena, but that's all I can promise right now. What about the rest of the coven?”

  “We need thirteen to overthrow Mother.”

  “So if we count you, you just need me?”

  “No, we need Trina, too.” She sighed. “It's complicated. Sit down.” They both resumed their seats. “When a coven accepts a high priestess, each witch gives her a token of her power to make her stronger. Therefore, each of the witches in our coven must take back that which they gave.”

  “And you gave nothing, because Rowena is still alive. You don't officially become a part of the coven until she dies.”

  “Correct.”

  Lilith shook her head. “But technically none of us gave Rowena anything, our mother's did.”

  “They are your family's powers. You can reclaim them.”

  That sounded far too easy. “Why am I sensing there's more to this?”

  “The purpose of each witch giving the high priestess a token of her power is so that there can't be a small part of the coven who disagrees with the rest and overthrows her. You all have to agree to this. You all need to confront her and take back your powers. Together.”

  Together. And what if one witch decided to have second thoughts? It sounded like suicide. If they didn't succeed, Rowena would kill them. The thought startled her. Would Rowena kill them? Maybe. Though years had passed since she'd seen the high priestess, she remembered her as a fierce, passionate woman and seeing what she’d done to her own daughter… “Rowena will fight.”

  Kat slumped back on the couch, wincing. “You have no idea.”

  “And what about the Legacy Necklace? What's that?”

  “The legend says that the high priestess of the coven who died during the Clearances recorded the events in a memory stone. Rowena has the Legacy Necklace, but it doesn't work for any of us. That leaves you and Trina. One of you will be able to unlock the visions inside. One of you will be our next high priestess.”

  That would be a positive thing for Trina. She'd always been one of those people who seemed most at home when she felt useful and needed. And a week ago, even she would have welcomed such a thing. To be not only welcomed back by her mother's coven but promoted to their high priestess. It would've been an honor. Now, it sounded like a curse. If the coven chose her, she couldn't be with James, not with the hostilities between the coven and the Vampiric Council. Lilith lifted her hand to massage her temples. Did she want to be with James? It would mean giving up any rights to be with the coven. If Trina became their high priestess it might cool their friendship. No, Trina wouldn't allow that; she'd remained her friend through everything.

  “A high priestess can abdicate, correct?”

  “Yes.” Kat looked away. “If she finds her coven unacceptable.”

  “Wait a minute. If you know that either Trina or I could unlock this stone, what makes you think Rowena hasn’t figured it out?”

  “She knows.” Kat bit her lip. “That’s why she’s having second thoughts, I’m sure. She knows she needs you to unlock the stone, but I don’t see her giving up her position gracefully. Mother will expect that you and Trina are ignorant of all this and I’m sure she’ll have a plan of her own to keep her position.”

  “Great.” Lilith slumped back in her seat.

  Kat nodded toward her Grimoire. “What do you need the Grimoire for?”

  “I have a ghost. Well, actually more of a skin-walker. One that I need to talk to while keeping myself safe.”

  “I can make a potion for you. You’ll just need to sprinkle it around the room you’re in and the spirit won’t be able to cross.” Kat's brows drew together. “Are you all right? You don't have ghost sickness do you?”

  Lilith tipped her head to the side. “What's that?”

  “When a spirit feeds off the living, the victim can experience memory loss, exhaustion, depression.”

  “No, not me.” But James experienced similar symptoms. “What's the cure?”

  Kat stood and opened a book. “From what I remember, most of the cures are worse than the cause. Let's see, in cases of possession all cures require destroying the ghost by having it enter a body and then killing the host. Well, unless you can exorcise the spirit and trap it, but that doesn't destroy the spirit.”

  “But what about ghost-sickness. That's not the same as possession, is it?”

  “No, no. Sorry, I'm just trying to file through the cluttered mess of information in my head. Ghost-sickness is different. It's caused by residue left over after feeding. Most of the cures are nasty. They require the infected to drink potions to make them expel the poison.”

  James couldn't drink or eat. That wouldn't work. “But you said almost all. There's another cure?”

  Kat tapped her finger against her chin. “Yeah, I'm fairly certain I remember something about a black hen drawing out the poison like a magnet.”

  Cha
pter 20

  Lilith tromped down the street, her backpack slung over her shoulder with her mom's heavy Grimoire weighing it down and a box of chicken under her arm. Well, a live hen, to be specific. Turned out one of the easiest cures for ghost sickness involved rubbing said creature on the patient.

  That should prove interesting.

  Her phone rang and Lilith dug it out of her purse, swiping her thumb across the screen to answer. “Trina, you are never going to believe—”

  “You're in trouble.”

  Trina's tone, more than her words, made Lilith freeze. Trina's senses were frighteningly accurate. “Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  She scanned the deserted street. To her right, thick shrubs clung to the side of the steep foothills. To her left, a ten-foot drop led to the Tolt River and, of course, there were trees everywhere casting shadows from the streetlights. “Can you see how?” Was she looking for a rock slide, a runaway car, a mountain lion . . .?

  “No. It's gonna be bad, though. I think . . . .”

  “What?”

  “Doesn't feel natural. There's so much darkness. Maybe a daemon.”

  Oh, gods. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to decide if she should run for home or flee back toward the neighborhood she’d just passed.

  “You said your Magic returned.”

  “Yeah.” She didn't have any practical usage under her belt, but she had Magic. She started for home at a quick clip. “What do I do?” Something moved in the forest. The rustle and snap of dead leaves made her jump. “What do I do, Trina?”

  “Make a sword.”

  As kids they'd often play-acted daemon hunting and she’d use her Magic to make weapons for all the girls in the coven.

  “Remember? You used to—”

  “I don't think a toy sword made out of cottonwood is going to help—”

  A new voice interrupted their conversation. “I think you're right.”

  Lilith stopped at the sound of the unfamiliar male voice, her heart stuttering in her chest. She turned. “Oh, gods, am I in trouble.”

  He must've been seven feet tall and thick as the baobab trees she'd seen in Africa. A scar ran down the side of his face, a deep groove that held his mouth in a perpetual sneer.

  “What's going on?” Trina sounded frantic. “Talk to me.”

  “I gotta . . . I gotta go.” Her gaze shot to the side of the road where another silver-eyed male emerged from the bushes. Shit!

  “Mm. Pretty little thing, ain't she?” Though shorter and smaller than the other, something about the way he swaggered onto the street made her suspect he might be the more dangerous of the two. He oozed confidence and she had no intention of underestimating him.

  “Leave the phone on. Gods, Lil, I wish I was there.”

  “I know.” She slipped her thumb toward the photo button on the side of her phone, praying the flash was on. Her gaze stayed on the men. “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  Lilith pressed the photo button. The flash lit up the two males in a brilliant burst of white light. They reared back, cursing. She ran, stuffing her phone in her purse, Trina still shouting at her. The backpack slammed against her spine with every step. The chicken clucked from being jostled around. Too much noise. They'd be on her in seconds.

  Magic. Use your damned Magic.

  Footsteps pounded the asphalt behind her.

  Lilith reached to her side, imagining gripping the air and jerking it behind her like a massive sheet. Leaves and branches burst from the side of the road as if a gust of wind blasted out of the woods. The sound of her pursuer’s feet altered as they stumbled amid the onslaught. She repeated her action as she darted to the side of the road closest to the Tolt River, this time focusing on the water rushing along next to the road. When the water sloshed over the asphalt, the sound of pounding feet stopped with a shout of outrage. Only one set of footsteps pounded the ground behind her now.

  Her lungs burned. She wasn't used to running, and the stitch growing in her side became unbearable. Her strides slowed for no other reason than she couldn't maintain her speed, but she refused to stop. The overgrown drive leading to Haven House came into view.

  And then disappeared.

  Lilith stumbled to a halt.

  The darkened street, the foothills, the river—they'd all disappeared. Now she stood in a sun-drenched desert. Her feet sank into the sand under her feet.

  What did they do?

  Frantically, her gaze darted around the sandy dunes and sun-drenched sky, looking for a seam in the illusion, a portal, something. The heat from the sun felt real enough. Oh, gods, had he transported her? Could daemons do that? Gasping for breath, she set her belongings down and dragged off her jacket.

  Trina. Lilith dove for her purse, picking out the phone. Trina?

  “Is it over? Are you okay?”

  “I'm in a desert.”

  “What?”

  “The sun is hot, there's sand everywhere. I'm in a desert.”

  “No. No, they can't do that. They can't. It's an illusion.”

  “I don't think so. I can't see anything to suggest it isn't real.” Thirty yards out, the sand shifted. Started to slowly spin. “Wait. There's something under the sand.”

  “He's trapped you in an illusion, Lilith. It has to be. He's gonna wear you down before he comes at you and you need to be ready.”

  Sneak attack. Right.

  “Conjure the swords. You were trained to use them. It's your best shot.”

  Lilith dropped the phone back into her purse and closed her eyes.

  The ground trembled. Whatever her attacker had planned was big.

  She focused on the minerals around her, the metals in the rock. Not in the Sahara, or whatever desert he'd created an illusion of, but in Washington, in the mineral rich earth near the Tolt River. She held her arms out, fingers outstretched, and called the weapons into being.

  Nothing happened at first. The tug of Magic pulled at her aura as the spell tried to take shape. The ground beneath her feet trembled from the daemon's talent, but the small bits of rock jumping up through the sand did so for her.

  She lifted her gaze just as a mass of sand erupted before her. She ducked, shielding her eyes with one hand. Dust filled every breath, making each more difficult and leaving a gritty taste in her mouth. She coughed as the dust began to settle, and looked up.

  Oh, dear gods. Big had been an underestimation.

  What the heck was that thing?

  Some sort of devil, she supposed. Black wings sprang out from a curved, muscular back. Long, thick horns jutted from its face, and the body reminded her of churning lava—a thick, black outer armor floating in chunks over the bright-orange, liquid fire underneath.

  Her weapons materialized. She gripped the hilts of the swords, both blades as long as her arm, curved and wickedly sharp, and a bolt of satisfaction ran through her. She could do this.

  She assumed the stance her fighting instructor had taught her. Legs spread for balance, one arm behind her head for striking, the other arm braced low in front of her for blocking. Remembering her training helped her to calm and center her mind as she studied the impossible beast before her. No such creature existed.

  She was indeed stuck within an illusion.

  Just her alone with this thing.

  Those two daemons waited out there in the real world, preparing to watch her fight for her life.

  And when they grew bored, and decided to kill her, she might never see them coming.

  Chapter 21

  He'd kill her as soon as he found her.

  When Lilith said she planned to visit a friend, he expected her to take her car. He expected her to be home long before him. The door slammed behind him and he strode down the drive, hesitating only briefly before deciding he didn't need his bike. She walked; she couldn't have gone far.

  How the hell did he protect a woman who didn't realize she needed protection? They needed to sit down and talk about this, but
how much could he say?

  At what point would the Watchers decide he'd said too much and issue a kill order on him for breaking the Discovery Laws? When he’d left earlier that evening, he’d half expected to be called out by another Guardian, but it had just been another assassination job. Which meant he hadn’t broken any laws. Yet.

  Maybe he needed to quit worrying. She couldn't possibly be human. Not with all the knowledge she had about daemon-kind.

  As he neared the end of the drive, he slowed, cocking his head to the side. That sounded like steel hitting rock.

  And male laughter.

  He broke into a run, keeping to the narrow dirt path to avoid the fall leaves crowding around him. The noise increased, the slick clash and slide of a blade against something hard, bringing to mind a sharpening stone. He slowed his pace as he reached the main road, remaining hidden to assess the situation.

  “He'll be pissed as hell if you let her die,” a male said.

  “I ain't gonna let it go that far. Just want to wear her down a bit,” another answered. “Make her easier to handle.”

  James shifted his position and two daemon males came into view, their eyes glowing with liquid silver as they watched something off to the side.

  “We should get more than what he said.” The larger of the two folded his arms over his beefy chest. “He didn't warn us about what she could do.”

  “Mm.” The smaller of the two thrust his chin out. “That chick can move, eh?”

  James leaned farther to the side so he could see the object of their interest. Lilith stood in the middle of the road brandishing two swords, her movements almost balletic as she fought some unseen assailant. He'd almost think she was putting on an exhibition, except her blades kept clashing with something he couldn't see.

  “Look at her arms.” The short one pointed.

  Her veins stood out black against the pale skin of her hands, the spidery lines climbing slowly up her arms.

  “She's overreaching. You better stop the illusion before she burns herself out.”