Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(81)



“Yeah. Creepy.”

“Well, you want to talk creepy? We’ve got a shit-ton of them back there. Hanging all over the hell. Off the track we use, but Joe started back that way, and we saw footprints, so we went to check it out. All these symbols, like—what it is?” He drew in the air with his finger.

“Pentagrams.” Lana’s chest tightened.

“Yeah, those, and these weird-ass little dolls, too. Made out of twigs and brush string and shit, and torn-up rags. I know some of it’s from my Grateful Dead T-shirt. Blair Witch, baby, and it ain’t good.”

“I need to see.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s bad, Lana. Bad like that black circle. You can feel it. And there’s blood on the snow. It looked fresh. A lot of blood, and, you know, ah, entrails. Joe? He peed himself. Nearly did myself.”

“What black circle?” Kim demanded.

“We’ll explain later. I need you to show me. If someone’s coming this close to the house, using dark magicks, I have to see it, counteract it.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” After scrubbing his hands over his face, Eddie dropped them. “Let’s just wait for Max, okay?”

“Eddie, I need to see it. Then I can explain the symbolism to Max, and we can put together what’s needed to counteract it.”

“Okay, okay, but we’re not going past where Joe peed himself and I almost did. Here comes Shaun.”

Shaun rushed back, face red now with the effort, breath heav ing. “I told them.” Leaning over, he braced his hands on his knees. “They’re coming. Ten or fifteen minutes, but they’re coming.”

“Good. Now take me back, and in ten or fifteen minutes Max and I will figure out what we have to do.”

“Back?” Still bent over, Shaun lifted his head. His face went pale beneath the red. “In there? I’m not going back in there. No way any of us should go back in there. Max—”

“Isn’t here,” Lana pointed out.

“Would you rather wait here by yourself?” Kim asked, taking a step forward.

“Hell no.” He fell in behind Kim, head swiveling side to side. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Neither is leaving up black magick symbols,” Lana shot back. “Last month we found a ritual site—dark, dangerous. And again too close to the house. We purified it. And that’s what we’ll do with whatever this is.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Kim accused.

“No, and maybe that was a mistake.” When Eddie stopped, she looked at the trampled snow to the left. “Angling closer to the house.”

“Yeah. It’s rough going—a lot of brush, downed branches, rocks. It’s why we stick to the trail.”

“If we wait for Max—”

Kim rounded on Shaun. “Lana’s as much a witch as he is.”

To settle it, Lana moved forward on the broken snow. She’d gone no more than two yards before she stopped. She felt it pulsing, pumping, oozing. Darker and more potent than the circle, she realized as her skin went clammy.

That had been an offering. This, she feared, a realization.

She pressed a hand to her belly, to her child, and swore she felt a pulse in there as well. The light beating.

Trusting it, she continued on.

Blood, death. Sex. She smelled it all, mixed and smeared together.

Then she saw. Inverted pentagrams dangling from branches. Thirteen by thirteen by thirteen. Blood splashed red over the white snow, and the gore was piled on a makeshift altar of stones where something had been gutted.

The dolls: six human dolls and one four-legged.

With the black beating against her, the white pulsing inside her, the absolute silence of air gone bitter-thick and still, she knew.

And grieved.

To test, power to power, she lifted a hand, pressed her light to the dark, felt the shock as it all but licked greedily at her palm.

“We need to go back,” she said with absolute calm. “There are things I need.” Max was one of them.

“Good idea!” Shaun took a step back, but froze at the sound of thrashing.

“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, that’s a bear.” Kim took a stumbling step back.

“Something’s wrong with it,” Eddie stated. He unstrapped the rifle from his back as Joe stopped quivering and growled low.

The bear twitched and convulsed as it plodded forward. Its eyes gleaming a sick yellow as it snapped at the air.

“You’re not supposed to run.” With a shaking hand, Shaun gripped Kim’s arm. “Don’t run, or he might chase you. And he’s faster. Maybe just back up slow, give him room, but stick together so we look bigger. It’s a black bear, and they’re not aggressive, but this one…”

“It’s not right.” Eddie breathed slow. “Is anyone else packing?”

“I am.” Kim fumbled to get the gun from her hip.

“Shaun’s right about not running. Let’s try the backing up. Nice and easy,” Eddie added. The bear reared onto its hind legs, roaring.

“Shit. Shit. That didn’t work.”

“It’s infected. You have to kill it. Shoot it,” Lana ordered, throwing out sharp power.

The first shot struck its chest. It screamed, dropped to all fours, and charged.

Nora Roberts's Books