The Unhallowed (Book Five in the Witch Hunter Saga)

  But the deeper she went, the riskier it became. With great power came darkness, no matter how good one claimed to be. She’d used her dark power once before, back when Arturius had held her against her will and used his witches to try to corrupt her, and it had taken a bolt of Aya’s Celestine power to bring her back. With time, the power had returned—the energy the hybrid used only wilting the leaves, not killing the root…and the plant had begun to grow anew.

  If Gabby lost herself to it now, she knew there was no coming back. Was she willing to risk it so Nye and Isobel had a chance to love one another? It was pointless even contemplating it because she already knew the answer.

  She closed her grimoire and slid it underneath the seat in front of her for safekeeping, preparing herself for the storm to come.

  Perhaps it was past time to find out how deep her power really ran.

  Nye stared up at the night sky, the orange light from the torches surrounding the stone circle glowing in his peripheral vision. He lay on the Blood Stone, fixed in place by magic and bound to his fate.

  He sensed movement all around as the Unhallowed worked their ritual. They muttered under their breaths—probably some indecipherable witch talk that spoke to the dark places Gabby had told him about. Forbidden spirit magic that was an insult to everything she was.

  Whatever the Unhallowed had in store for his soul, it wasn’t anything good, and they weren’t letting him in on the punch line. Eternal damnation sounded horrific, but who was alive to tell anyone what it was really like? Was there such a thing, or was the whole notion just dreamed up by men and women who were afraid of the unknown? Fear was a powerful motivator, one he’d used only the day before. Vampires dealt in the stuff like humans thirsted for money.

  He tensed as Eleanor climbed atop his body, straddling his waist like a lover. Her cold fingers curled around the hem of his shirt and ripped, buttons popping as she exposed his chest.

  “Kinky,” he muttered, not wanting to make this easy for her. “You’ve been dreaming about getting in my pants again for four hundred years, haven’t you? Are you sure you want your wraith-ey friends to watch? Or are you into exhibitionism now?”

  Eleanor laughed, splaying her hands on his stomach. He thought his skin was cold but hers felt like the chill of death itself and a universe apart from the ice he carried in his veins.

  “Since you’re sitting right on my sweet spot,” he went on, “you’re probably thinking I’ve got performance issues, but too bad for you because I’m not into soul-sucking wraiths.”

  “It’s too late, Nye,” she replied, stroking her fingers across the rise and dip of his abs. “Your words are meaningless.”

  “I feel sorry for you,” he drawled, taking one last stab. “You’ll never find love, Eleanor. You’re not capable of feeling it for anything but yourself and the evil you’ve created. If you think that’s true love, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Her expression tightened. “You think because I lifted the curse on your precious human she’s safe forever? Are you really that naive?”

  “If you even try to harm her again, you won’t get far,” he snarled. “Gabby and Tristan—”

  “Tristan?” Eleanor asked with a laugh. “He was the easiest of all to manipulate. How do you think Isobel got out of the house?”

  Nye’s eyes widened.

  “That’s right, love,” she purred. “I compelled him to kill your witch, and right now…he’s with your precious Isobel. Imagine what I could make him do to her.”

  Sabine… Tristan had killed Sabine! The night he was attacked by Eleanor, she hadn’t tried to siphon him at all…she’d put a compulsion on him to get inside the mansion and hit them all where it hurt. It explained why the knight had been missing for two days. Shit!

  “You’ll never get away with it,” he said. “They won’t allow it.”

  Leaning over him, Eleanor curled her arms around his neck like a lover, her lips pressing against his ear. He tried to push against her, to dislodge her poisonous hands, but he was paralyzed. Bitch!

  She nipped at his ear before whispering, “How does it feel to know your sacrifice was for nothing?”

  Nye thrashed—or at least, he did on the inside—and spat at her, “I hope you burn in hell.”

  “Come, sisters,” she declared, returning to a seated position on his lap.

  The wraiths moved out of the shadows and approached the Blood Stone. They leaned over him, all six witches looking down on him with disdain from the human faces they’d taken on, the cloud of thunder and lightning that were their true forms having all but disappeared.

  “The circle is complete,” Eleanor said to the others. “Now it is time to begin.”

  Nye never believed it when people told stories of their lives flashing before their eyes when certain death was upon them. He had a great deal of life to fast-forward through and not enough time to relive it all considering his predicament, but try as he might to forget, some memories surfaced.

  Oddly enough, the first thing he saw was the little girl he’d tried to help in the bottom reaches of the Tower of London. The little girl who’d killed a whole slew of humans in her desperate need for blood, and the same who saw his kindness as something to be preserved. He’d been compelled and turned into a beast by a child. A child who didn’t understand what she had become, so she had given in to the monster.

  He’d been lost at the time, forced into a semblance of retirement because of the scar that split his face. His life had been about blending into shadows, obtaining information and striking, being one of many, silent and deadly… He was marked and no longer fit for duty because of it. Those feelings had crossed with him into his next life…until he met Eleanor. The rest was a history that could not be unwritten.

  What a miserable story with a miserable end.

  But of all the memories in his mind, he finished with Isobel and her unfaltering fearlessness in Oxford all those months ago. The kiss they shared at the mansion haunted him still, even with its unfortunate end. Everything about her was reminiscent of flame… He imagined her in all her glory and held her image close. She was in even more danger, and he was the only one who knew it.

  Isobel.

  Eleanor smiled, her lips curling in triumph as she raised a dagger high into the star-studded sky.

  When the point of the blade pierced his flesh and began dragging, cutting him open in an elaborate design, he never gave her the satisfaction of hearing him suffer.

  He never would.

  Chapter 19

  “We’re here.”

  Gabby glanced up at the sound of Alex’s voice. Tristan had brought the car to a halt behind another car parked on the dark track. Nye.

  “Let’s do this,” Gabby said. “We approach together.”

  “I suggest using stealth,” Tristan advised, opening his door. “We are goin’ in at a disadvantage.”

  “Agreed,” Gabby chimed in.

  They assembled outside the car, and Alex took his sister’s hand. “Stick with me, Izzy. I just got you back from the Unhallowed’s curse, and I’m not going to let them take you again.”

  “Neither am I,” she replied. “Not if I can help it.”

  Turning her attention onto the field beside the track, Gabby saw the glow at the top of the rise. That had to be it. It was the only smudge against the night, the only other light coming from the moon that hung low in the sky, its last quarter holding on with silver fingers.

  Flame illuminated the stone circle as they crossed the field, the long fingers of bluestone stretching into the sky. Even at the distance they were, Gabby could feel the rush of energy in the air. Whatever the Unhallowed were doing to Nye, they were still in the midst of their revenge. It wasn’t too late.

  She raised her hand, alerting the others as the emanations grew. “Six,” she whispered just loud enough for the two vampires to hear. She sensed the presence of each wraith, all of them focused on a single point in the center of their circle.

&nb
sp; Ancient monuments like these usually had a central point, a flat stone used as an altar, and that was where Nye had to be. The central point directly over the ley lines would anchor the Unhallowed’s power, and whatever they were doing to him would be more potent there.

  Finally, they reached the outer circle of stones. Gabby saw the six witches—or wraiths, somehow in human form—but she was drawn to the body that lay on the Blood Stone within their circle.

  Nye.

  Blood coated his chest, and from this distance, she couldn’t see what they’d carved there, but it was nasty. His gaze was fixed on the sky, his body paralyzed. She felt Isobel stiffen beside her at the sight of the vampire, and Alex tugged her back.

  If they didn’t do anything, Nye was done for. They’d drain his energy until he was nothing but a husk. What was stopping them from resurrecting his corpse to come back and take Isobel? Nothing. They’d lured Nye here, but who said they’d keep their word once they’d gotten what they wanted? Gabby didn’t trust those witches as far as she could throw them.

  It was way past time to kick some Unhallowed ass.

  Gabby strode forward into the stone circle and raised her hand, muttering a spell under her breath. The Unhallowed were caught unawares, too wrapped up in their ritual to feel her presence, and they fell to the ground like stones as her power collided with them.

  It was the chance Alex and Tristan needed to run forward, grab Nye, and drag him from the stone. The spell holding him in place was broken, allowing them to pull him to safety. He moaned loudly, beginning to writhe against the grasp of his friends as whatever ritual had been weaved over him was severed.

  The wraiths clambered to their feet as Gabby stood her ground, Eleanor at the front of the pack, her eyes wild with anger.

  “You,” she snarled, her eyes glowing with a white fire Gabby had never seen before. “You’ll pay for this Gabrielle Cohen. I don’t care who you are to them, you will join Nye in hell.”

  Them? Somehow, Gabby didn’t think she meant the three vampires and one human who were now behind her, but there was no time to contemplate or ask empty questions. Eleanor was pissed, and the collective group of wraiths were forming a link to fire back...and it was going to be an epic battle of wills.

  They’d snatched Nye, but they still had the getting away part to pull off.

  “You may have tricked Nye into giving himself up to you, but I won’t let you have him without a fight,” Gabby declared, facing off with the six wraiths. “You know who I am, but the world hasn’t seen what I can do yet.”

  “Am I meant to fear you?” Eleanor asked, raising her hands. “Because your words are empty. Have you tapped into a ley line before, Gabrielle? It’s so invigorating.”

  Eleanor’s hand shot out, and Gabby reacted instantly. Reaching inside herself, she grasped the thread that bound the darkness inside her and pulled. Hard.

  As the ground began to shudder beneath her feet, the wraiths glanced at one another, and Eleanor’s hand dropped before she could strike. The earth splintered and rose into the air, creating a perfect circle around the ancient site. It hovered there for a moment before slowly beginning to turn.

  “What…” Eleanor said, glancing around wildly.

  “The earth is fighting back,” Gabby said, flicking her wrist. “It doesn’t like it when an evil bitch like you steals its power.”

  The debris began to rotate faster and faster until a whirlwind surrounded the entire stone circle.

  “Gabby, you better know what you’re doing,” she heard Alex shout from behind her.

  Truthfully, she wasn’t sure where this was going at all. The dark power inside of her had risen up and taken control, and she was going with the flow.

  The Unhallowed stood before her and joined hands, linking their power together and pooling it within Eleanor.

  “Let’s see how strong you really are, Gabrielle,” she declared, letting her arrogance shine. “One witch against six wraiths. I wonder who’s going to win.”

  Gabby pushed down the urge to roll her eyes and focused her will on the wraiths. Disappear, begone, and go back to the hole you crawled out from!

  They fought a silent battle as the earth tried to pull itself away from the ley line, but something was stopping it from breaking free. The tornado heaved around them, angry and wild, powering the dark coil of energy inside her. Willing it toward her targets, they forced her back and she them in turn.

  She fought with everything she had, but together, she feared they were too much for her. Even calling on the darkness hadn’t done much to slow the Unhallowed’s advance.

  It was a battle of wills within the confines of the stone circle, the tornado whipping around and around, kicking up debris and sending it flying.

  Gabby was aware her friends were behind her, trapped within the boundary and unable to escape.

  From someplace faraway, she was aware Nye had begun to move, dragging himself across the circle toward the Unhallowed.

  “What are you doin’?” Tristan exclaimed, trying to pull him back, but he was met with a kick to the face.

  “Get off me!” Nye cried.

  “Nye!” Isobel pleaded, but he didn’t listen, not even to her.

  Gabby couldn’t move to stop him since she was locked in the battle against the wraiths. If she slipped for even one moment, they were done.

  Nye collapsed beside the Blood Stone and fumbled in the dirt, raising the ire of the Unhallowed and Eleanor, but there was nothing they could do. Gabby had them trapped for the time being, or at least until one of them faltered. What was Nye up to?

  He clutched a dagger in his hands, blood dripping from the open wound in his chest. Eleanor pushed against Gabby’s power with everything she had, but the darkness the witch had conjured held her in check.

  As Nye raised the dagger, Isobel called out.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled, her voice carrying off into the wind.

  “I’ll come back,” he replied, his eyes glassy. “This isn’t the end…”

  “Isobel, stay back!” Alex exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his sister.

  “No!” she screeched. “Let me go!”

  Gabby didn’t have the energy to weigh in on another fight. The Unhallowed hadn’t slowed, but she could feel their power waning.

  Nye raised the dagger and thrust the blade into his chest. The steel slammed into his heart, and Isobel screamed, thrashing against Alex’s grip.

  Nye’s eyes glazed over, and he gasped as the life left his body, his fingers slipping from the hilt…then he fell to the ground.

  The exact moment his heart stopped beating, Gabby felt the Unhallowed falter. Finally, she understood why they had lured Nye here. Their revenge wasn’t a swift or painful death. They were using his immortality and ability to heal for a darker purpose. He was a thing to them… A slave, sacrifice…and would be for eternity. That was the Unhallowed’s revenge.

  Nye was the tether, and by ending his life, he’d severed their connection to the deeper power of the earth. The harder they fought against Gabby without it, the faster their reserve power would deplete. They would have to run or face an eternity of nothing if they failed in subduing her.

  No prizes for guessing which option they took.

  The force surrounding Gabby dissolved, the wind pulling it away until it was no more. The Unhallowed began shedding their human forms, even Eleanor, and one by one, they flung themselves into the twister that surrounded the stone circle. She felt them disappear, their energy popping and fizzing into nothing as they fled.

  Utterly spent, Gabby dropped her arms and fell to her knees in the dirt, tears streaming from her eyes. It wasn’t the end of them, but for now, their power source was fried. They’d run off with their tails between their legs, and it would be some time before they gathered enough energy to reform themselves.

  “Gabby,” Tristan said, kneeling beside her.

  She held up her hand, holding the knight at bay. “Give me a minute…” r />
  Delving inside herself, she pushed the dark coil of power back into its box, and to her surprise, it went willingly. She didn’t know what it meant, but for now, she was still herself, and she was glad. The power hadn’t corrupted her, but she was drained to the point she wanted to curl up in bed for a week. She was so sleeping in tomorrow.

  Isobel knelt beside Nye’s prone body, her hands stroking his face and hair as tears fell from her eyes.

  “Will he come back?” she was asking Alex. “Is he dead?”

  Her brother shook his head. “He’ll wake in a few hours.” He wiped at the rune carved into the vampire’s chest. “He’s already starting to heal. See?”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I couldn’t handle it if he…”

  Gabby reached out for Tristan’s hand, and the knight helped her to her feet. “Get Nye back to the mansion,” she said, wincing as her muscles started to ache. “I need to have a look around.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, holding her tightly. “You’re—”

  “I’ll be fine,” she interrupted. “I’ve still got plenty of juice. Besides, there might be something here that can help us. The Unhallowed aren’t gone for good…just for now. We need more… Tonight was just dumb luck.” Really, it was the stupidest luck they’d ever had, and they’d done a lot of stupid things in the last year. She didn’t have enough fingers to count them on—there were that many.

  Tristan didn’t seem convinced. “Someone should stay with you. Just in case.”

  She nodded as the adrenaline in her body began to wear off and her nerve endings started to vibrate. “Perhaps.”

  “Are you okay, Gabby?” Isobel asked, finally glancing up from her panicked vigil over Nye.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Go. Take him home. I’ll be there soon.”

  It was an odd sight to see Alex carrying Nye’s body in his arms. Having known Alex since she’d first moved to Ashburton when she was a teenager, it was almost comical. He’d been a weedy weakling back then but had grown into a handsome, muscled gardener. Now he was something else, of course.