Shadows in Ravenwood (Daughters of the Circle)

  FIVE

  MORGAN

  Morgan fought her way to the surface, up and out of a deep sleep, trying to make out, in the dim room, a form at the foot of their bed. Something—or rather—someone—stood there….

  Someone made—of shadow.

  She froze, trying to force herself to move. Fear intensified her paralysis, like writhing in the mud. She struggled to shove herself forward, yet it took every ounce of strength even to manage to shift her position.

  Though Morgan felt the evil the shadow cast—she couldn’t budge.

  She strangled on the scream trapped in her throat, fighting to wake Alex, but her body wouldn’t obey. The room dragged, caught in slow motion. Her limbs heavy, like lead. She clawed, struggling for each ounce she gained, battling to focus on what stood there. When she succeeded—she screamed.

  Alex came off the bed like a gunshot went off beside him. He stared at her, his gaze following hers—to where a silhouette stood at the end of their bed.

  No one budged.

  Morgan blinked, then blinked again, like doing so would make it go away.

  A large male with black wings appeared at the door and shot toward the dark figure, which seemed made only of smoke. In the blink of an eye, the wisp of his essence disappeared.

  Morgan propelled backward, trying to push herself through the headboard in her fright. Alex jumped onto the bed, placing himself between her and the winged male.

  The creature turned, looking at the two of them for a long moment. First giving Alex an odd look, then gazing long and hard at Morgan.

  Morgan gawked at him. Had he just saved them?

  “What was that thing?” she screamed. She didn’t know what else to say, more-or-less what to think.

  Almost in proud defiance, the male and his large, black wings spun around and shot out of the window, swallowed by the gray skies. He’d shifted so fast, she failed to take in the transition that had to have taken place for him to fit out that window….

  Morgan stared at the empty spot, where he’d just been, lifting a shaking hand to point at the window, then turning her head to stare at Alex, her heart beating so fast she couldn’t speak for several long seconds. Stupefied, she shook her head. “Did he just shape-shift?” she finally yelled, stabbing her finger toward the window as she spoke. “He had to have shape-shifted.” She babbled, but she couldn’t help it. Terror made her limbs heavy.

  Still staring at the window, Morgan saw Alex swallow. He nodded.

  “What was that thing?” she said again, this time in a choked whisper.

  “That walking darkness—was Dante…. But that thing…,” he pointed at the window again, “that thing’s as real as you and me.”

  Morgan’s attention snagged. “Wh-at? What do you mean—Dante?” she stammered out. “That was a shadow.”

  Alex jammed his hands down over his hips, his jaw ticking in anger. “I read about that warlock in your Book of Shadows,” he explained.

  That didn’t sound good. “A what? What’s a Book of Shadows? Never mind,” she said in the same breath. “A who? A Warlock?” she squeaked out. Now, that didn’t sound good at all….

  Alex nodded. “Yeah, but that’s not his human form,” he said, climbing onto and coming across the bed to put his arms around her.

  Delayed shock set in and Morgan trembled. “I’m not staying here,” she announced.

  Alex smiled and tipped her chin so her eyes could meet his gaze. “Aren’t you tired of running away from your fears?” He kissed her gently. “Wouldn’t it feel much better to face him?”

  Morgan thought about that, then to her dismay found herself shrugging. Maybe. Maybe it would be better to fight back—even if he did kill them. They couldn’t run forever. “What was that thing that went after him?” she finally asked. “Did he just try to protect us?”

  Alex nodded, stroking her hair. “I don’t know who or what he is, but I intend to find out—and to thank him.”

  Morgan nodded. She stared into his dark gaze, realizing he was right. He’d gone after that shadow-thing for them. She could, at least, face her fear—and do the same. He also had another point—she was tired of running—and tired of fear being her constant companion. Still trembling, she nodded, settling against his shoulder as he settled back onto the pillows, taking her with him.

  “I’m tired of being scared,” she croaked out past her dry throat. “I’m going to face this damn thing for once—head on.”

  “Good,” Alex said. “Then, you might want to start by facing that shadow head on too—since I’m not so sure, he came here just to scare you.”

  Morgan’s brows shot up, and she craned her head to see him. “I wonder what gave you that impression?” she said, her voice laden with venom. “The fact he visited our bed—in the middle of the night?”

  Alex grinned at her sarcasm. “We saw that winged one before,” Alex said.

  She pulled away from him so that she could see his eyes. “What? When?”

  He swallowed. “The night you disappeared.” He hesitated. “Your sister was terrified but curious about him too,” he said.

  Her gaze narrowed on his. “How do you know?” she said.

  “I—feel things from people,” he answered.

  “Really?” she said. “So, do I—but I got nothing from him.”

  Alex nodded. “I remember that. We shared that in common as children. But you couldn’t feel him—because you were too afraid to sense him.” He snuggled her closer to him. “I felt pain from him.”

  She craned her head again so she could see his face more clearly. “Pain?” Her body went stiff with outrage. “Why on earth would he be in pain?”

  Alex looked down at her, but he shrugged.

  Morgan fought for the breath sucked from her lungs. With some effort, she sat up, staring down at Alex. “I’ll admit—he seemed to try and protect us—or maybe he just has his own agenda, for chasing after that—shadow. But I still don’t understand how you could think that—from that….” she said, gesturing at where he’d disappeared, whispering furiously as the old nightmares and the old familiar terror swept through her, making her limbs heavy with dread.

  Alex sat up and stroked her shoulders and arms. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this over these past ten years.” He took her hands in his. “He seemed somehow—horrified—by how we reacted to him.”

  Bending forward, Morgan tried to take another deep breath, but all breath seemed knocked from her lungs. She fought for her next lung-full of air, thinking back on how that thing had altered their lives that afternoon so many years before. “You think?” she choked out. She sucked in another painful breath, her shoulders sagging. “Well, whatever it is and whatever it came for—it changed our lives.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he saved our lives. Either way, he seemed bewildered by our fear of him.” Alex leaned back again, taking her with him again and relaxing deep into the pillows. “He looks like a beast, so no wonder we freaked out the way we did. We were kids. But still, he seemed horrified by what he’d done—the same way he seemed tonight.”

  Morgan might have felt bad for him—if she didn’t still feel so scared. She wanted to believe he’d come to help. She did. She’d just been too afraid for far too long, even when she didn’t remember what lay behind her fear. She didn’t know how to stop now. She craned her head again, glancing up at Alex. “How do you suppose a warlock might become that dark thing—you called Dante?”

  She saw Alex’s jaw tick. “Well, now, I’ve had a long time to think about that, too. I found the old Book of Shadows in our family trunk and….” He shrugged. “I didn’t know about Dante—I just knew about the dark wispy, shadowy thing we all saw that afternoon as kids…. He snuggled her close to him, shrugging again. “Like I said, I didn’t know about Dante until I read the Book of Shadow….”

  “Wait? That’s right. You said that earlier.” She frowned at him. “What is a Book of Shadows?”

  He leaned up, bringing her with h
im, all but picking her up to lay them both where they could stretch out on the bed. Then, he lay down next to her and covered them both up, gently taking her into his arms as he told her about the Book of Shadows. In fact, he was so careful about that she couldn’t think of a way to argue with him since he’d stirred something in her—again.

  He pulled her head to his chest as they talked well into the morning. It took a while, but she did eventually fall back to sleep.