“What she’s become?” Heath echoed.
Dad nodded. “We need to know if she’s a Reaper or a Dark One.”
I stared at my friends’ eyes, all of them as widened and confused as my own felt.
“What do you mean?” Riley asked.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” dad insisted.
We recounted all that had gone down in the graveyard, and the handfasting before.
“And she did all that willingly? She wasn’t coerced at all?” Dad asked, urgently.
“The binding was Sierra’s choice.” Heath nodded, firmly. “We performed the ritual exactly as prescribed. She bonded her soul to ours willingly.”
“You’re certain?”
I glanced away, as memories of my visit to her trailer crept into my mind. Doubt tried to convict me as I remembered how I’d woven subtle spells into Sierra’s mind, ensuring she would accept the bond rather than resist it. How I’d nudged her own desires, eliminating any doubts or fears she harbored. I had manipulated the situation, even if the end result was mutually desired.
“No, she was herself,” I finally said, not entirely meeting my father’s gaze. “The bond was what she wanted. What we all wanted.” I spoke firmly to convince him as well as myself.
He studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. But I could tell a shadow of doubt lingered in his mind. His brow furrowed. “And she showed no signs of possession? No strange behavior?”
“Only after the ground opened, like we mentioned,” Riley said.
Dad glanced at the mirror again, frustration etched on his face as the image remained clouded. We all tried every spell we could think of that might work. My father joined in as best he could, but the effort clearly taxed his already weakened state.
The most we could see were shadowy images, which dad said were consistent with the underworld – news that nearly knocked us all down, until he assured us that he believed she was still alive.
He slumped backward onto the sofa, breathing heavily, his scarred, thin hand palm-up toward me.
“Please, take me to your mother,” he said softly. “Victoria may be able to help us, despite...” His voice trailed off, but I understood. Despite her strong ties with the Dark Ones. Despite her melancholy, despite her drinking.
I steeled myself as I helped him stand. Returning home would not be easy for either of us. But we had to try.
We arrived at my parents’ home, a large and imposing mansion nestled in Lake Forest. The gates swung open as we approached, and my heart rate increased with each passing second.
As soon as we entered the house, we were greeted by the familiar scent of alcohol and sadness. My mother was a powerful witch, but she was also deeply troubled. Her grief over dad’s death had consumed her, driving her to drown herself in drink.
I led him to the living room where mom was currently passed out on the couch, an empty bottle of wine clutched in her hand. The Unconsecrated within her immediately awakened when we entered the room, recognizing that Gerald was here, and his dark spirit was gone. And for the first time, my mother’s spirit saw that her son was also possessed. Never before had my Dark One revealed itself to hers, and the part of me that lived beyond those spirits recognized this was not a good sign.
Mom let out a bloodcurdling scream and lunged towards me and my father. We quickly stepped back as she flailed wildly before dad managed to interrupt her with a spell.
“Mom,” I said gently, trying to calm her down. “Please listen to us.”
But she would not be consoled. She fought against dad’s magic with a ferocity that surprised us all. And even more to my surprise, my own Dark One grew stronger within, urging me to kill them both.
At the same time, I could sense the darkness emanating from my mother, threatening to overtake all of us if we weren’t careful. And dad wasn’t immune – whatever spell he had used on himself earlier was no match for her powerful force.
I was almost relieved when the lingering alcohol in my mother’s system caused her to lose her balance and she stumbled backwards, hitting her head on the brick fireplace. She let out a groan before slumping to the ground, unconscious, blood flowing from her forehead.
I quickly rushed over to check on her, thankful to find she was still breathing, and that the Unconsecrated within her had gone quiet. But my relief was short-lived as my own Dark One took control once again.
Anger built as my father hovered over me, and I flinched when he reached out his hand. Surprising me with his strength, he gripped my shoulder, and I slumped as calming energy washed over me. With great effort, I pushed back against the darkness and regained control.
I blinked, stunned and frightened. Never before had I been so successful at pushing against the spirit possessing me. Was it because I’d hardly ever tried, or was it something else? Had he grown that powerful, or had I become that weak?
And was I happy or sad about that?
“We have to get her to the bedroom,” Dad said, snapping me out of my trance.
Together, we picked up my mother’s limp body and carried her upstairs. She stirred slightly as we laid her on the bed, and I ached with pity for the woman who had once been such a strong and powerful witch.
“I’m sorry, son,” my father said, looking at her with tears in his eyes. “I never wanted anything but the best for both of you.”
I couldn’t speak – the emotions were overwhelming: anger, resentment, relief ... love.
“You should be,” I finally managed to say before turning away from him.
A twinge of guilt panged as I caught a glimpse of the hurt of his face in the bedroom mirror. Then his expression turned grim as he raised his hand towards me. Before I could react, a spell hit me square in the back.
“I’m sorry” was the last thing I heard him say.
CHAPTER 4
SIERRA
Soft whispers drifted through my dreams, lulling me into a sense of serenity even as part of my brain noticed light growing beyond my closed eyelids. I pulled the quilt around my head, away from the growing brightness that threatened to force me awake.
