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Morgan peered around the edge of the rock. Her mouth formed a silent wail of horror. Skye was now part of the strange group, her arms outstretched, her head thrown back like a puppet. Beside her Hunter mimicked her helpless pose, his body jolting and jerking as if struck by invisible blows. Each jolt and movement of his body was echoed by Skye’s, like they were sharing the nightmare on a time-lag.
Liam trembled as though channelling electricity. And every part of Thea’s chemise-clad body was tight, straining with effort. Morgan could see her shaking with it. Or was she shaking with laughter?
Beyond them the distant beach was strewn with bodies and statue-like people. Were they all drowned, washed up in the tide? But as she watched, another fell, then another. What was happening? If it was a nightmare, they were all living it.
Morgan’s stomach heaved, and she swallowed to keep from retching. She had to do something to stop this. What could she do to help Skye? She cast about for some kind of nudge from the universe. Almost without thinking she picked up a small seaweed-laden rock near her feet, stepped boldly from the sheltering wall of rock and flung the heavy stone straight at Thea’s head. Elation spiked at the obvious hit it would make, then she gasped and flinched, ducking back out of sight as the rock impacted an invisible barrier at least a foot from Thea’s skull, falling uselessly to the ground without drawing even a twitch of notice from any of the group.
Unfamiliar panic built like a dam under Morgan’s ribs and she pressed her hand over her mouth to silence the ugly sob that ripped out of her. Then she jumped, blurting a smothered cry as something touched the back of her head. She made herself turn, and drew a sharp inward breath. At her feet in the sinking tide, Jarrod stared up at her, his body washed about by the dense seaweed that grew on the lower ledge.
In one hand he clutched shells, probably more of what he had thrown to get her attention. His other gripped the edge of the rock ledge. She couldn’t move, her brain sluggish to process this new threat. She pressed herself back hard against the rock wall. Jarrod’s intense blue eyes held hers. He raised a finger to his lips in the universal signal for ‘silence’. Fresh adrenaline surged through her, halting her streaming tears. She had nowhere to run. What should she do?
Perhaps he understood, because he shook his head vehemently, and held his hands up to show no harm. His frown was fierce. Holding her gaze, he raised his eyebrows and pointed to the ledge beside her. She understood. He’d had the chance to hurt her before, but had tried to help. He was clearly not part of what was happening behind her. Perhaps she could trust him. Warily, she nodded permission. In seconds he stood dripping beside her, and tilted his head in silent request for her to follow him further away from where the rock wall ended.
Close to overwhelmed, Morgan followed her former seducer. Former captor. He’d used all his Nemaro persuasion, but in truth, if she was honest it hadn’t taken much. He was wearing the same surfer shorts he’d worn when he’d ‘invited’ her to join him that day she’d abandoned her life for him. She stopped, feeling nearly hysterical; Jarrod in front of her, and Thea behind her. She was literally caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Or rather, between two devils, one of them blue-eyed, and the deep grey sea that was home to them both.
She felt Hunter’s ring on her finger, touched it with her thumb. Jarrod’s gift to her to keep her safe. He hadn’t compelled her to do what he wanted. He’d let her choose. Whatever he wanted right now, maybe it wasn’t to harm her. He looked back, his eyes blazing with clear fury and hope rose in her. This wasn’t about her. Maybe right now they wanted the same thing: an end to Thea.
She began to follow him again, and they rounded the curving side of the rock, safe should anyone on the ocean-facing side look along the ledge. Jarrod stopped and turned to face her. His wet curls hung almost straight, the colour of dark straw, sending trails of water streaming down his sculpture-like torso. His eyes searched her face hungrily, and for a brief instant her thoughts were shaken loose from utter fear and danger. For a second, she was back in a moment when these eyes, this boy, had looked at her a little like this and asked her to join him.
His gaze hardened. “I see four in the incantation circle. I know three.” He stopped, his jaw clenching with obvious hatred for those three.
She blinked back to present. “Is this what you warned me was coming?” her voice was croaky. “Did you do this?”
“I did...some of it. But not that. She has taken control from me and does far worse.”
“Worse than what? What were you planning to do to the village?”
Without answering, he looked away as if mastering himself, then looked at her again. “Tell me what is happening there with your friend. Why have she and Hunter joined Thea?”
“It’s not by choice. Not in Skye’s case anyway.” Tears burned Morgan’s eyes again at the memory of her best friend’s slight body drawn out like a crucified doll. She sniffed and blew out a shuddery breath. “I don’t think in Hunter’s case either. But I don’t know.”
Jarrod nodded. “Who is the third that aids her with this incantation?”
Morgan swallowed, refocusing. “It’s a guy called Liam Noble, from the village.”
Jarrod frowned. “What could she want with a human? Who is this boy?”
“A local. His family have been in Bannimor forever. They’re supposed to be descended from the people who used to rule this area, like royalty or something, hundreds of years ago. No one remembers who they were. They own The Towers and half of the village besides,” Morgan pointed across the water to the standing shape of the apartment building that dominated the village. Her hand shook as she took in the broken line of people, some standing unmoving, others lying prone on the wet sand. She looked quickly away.
Jarrod stared across at the high rise. “Interesting.”
“Why?”
“This landscape has changed out of all recognition, but I have long thought that that tower could stand on the site where once stood a castle. Inhabited by those we had sworn to serve.”
“What happened? Is it...did the curse happen?”
“Hunter told you of the curse?”
“No. Someone who used to live in the village had tried to learn about...you. He’d worked out that maybe there was a curse involved. And that if there was, maybe the curse could be broken.”
Jarrod’s eyebrows rose derisively. “That would be a neat trick.” He looked over at the high rise once more. “But if there was a descendant... But even so, that hardly explains...” His eyes widened, and he moved suddenly towards Morgan. She flinched, cringing away as he passed close by her, his wet skin brushing her. At her defensive movement, he paused and met her eyes. To her amazement she read hurt in his.
He looked away, continuing past her and peered cautiously around the edge of the rock wall. When he straightened, he leaned back against the rock wall, almost in a posture of defeat. Morgan carefully followed him across the slippery ledge and raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry.
“Davian,” he murmured.
“Hunter called him that,” she whispered.
He nodded back along the ledge and followed her in retreat until they were safely hidden again by the curve. “He’s the spitting image of Thea’s cousin. Davian liked to keep his options open. It is obvious he strayed and played within the lord’s walls as well as our own. Thea has somehow discovered one of his line who carries enough magic to use in her attack.”
“Magic? Liam?” Morgan frowned, bemused. “But what is her attack? I don’t understand any of this.” She despised the wobble in her voice, especially when Jarrod cast a hard glance at her. Don’t show weakness she silently warned herself.
“It is too much to explain the past. Thea seeks revenge on me. She means to hurt our clan. Maybe to end it. But I think her reach is greater than that,” he looked at the fallen bodies on the distant beach. “I think she is repeating history. What once was done unwittingly, she does deliberately.” He met Morgan’s confused gaze. “She is stealing the lives, the very souls out of the living.”
“The stolen lives...” Morgan breathed. “She’s taking more? From who? From those people lying down? They’re ...dead?”
Jarrod held her gaze for a long moment, then turned and pointed at the village. Did he know that his pointing finger was levelled at Bliss? Ice rushed through Morgan and her legs wouldn’t hold her. She slumped back against the rock wall. “No. Mum...”
“She may yet be safe, if we can stop them in time.”
Hope strengthened Morgan, and she straightened, “So stop them already! What are you waiting for!”
“Shhh,” Jarrod warned, and she froze. They both listened for a moment, but there was no sound above the water washing at their feet, the wind rushing past their ears. He resumed softly, “I found the same as you did with your rock, I cannot impact the circle. And she has bested me in power, combined as hers is with these others.”
“So then...what?”
“We need only break the circle. Just one of the four removing themselves from it will end the force that threatens your mother’s life.”
“Oh, is that all?” she said fiercely.
The corner of Jarrod’s mouth twitched, but he frowned it away at once. “From what I just observed, of the three who aid her the human boy alone seems to be in control of his thoughts.”
Morgan felt disgusted. What was Liam thinking? How did he get mixed up in all of this?
“If I can understand a little more about him,” Jarrod said, “what drives his family, why he is here, I might see a weakness, something he might abandon Thea’s goals for, choosing his own instead. What do you know of him?”
Morgan flushed, and noting it, Jarrod’s frown deepened. She cleared her throat. “There’s really not much to tell. It’s just him and his dad. His parents separated. His dad only cares about acquisitions.” Jarrod nodded as if that didn’t surprise him in the least. “And Liam only cares about...”
Her mind touched on the brief relationship she’d had with Liam. She’d thought it meant something to both of them. But Liam’s heart had never been hers. It had always belonged to... “...his girlfriend. His old girlfriend. Her name was Gina. I didn’t really know her. She drowned. She went missing in the Bay a couple of years ago.”
Morgan went still as the old fact registered in a new light. Her eyes narrowed and she focused on Jarrod with undisguised accusation. His face stiffened and he averted his gaze a little. Nausea churned in Morgan’s stomach. Perhaps sensing her reaction, Jarrod looked further away, avoiding her gaze.
“She’s an obsession for him,” Morgan continued. “He didn’t want to believe she was dead. He’s been obsessed with the stories about Bannimor. Turns out they were kind of true. So maybe she didn’t drown. And maybe she did...eventually. I think he would do anything to get her back. Or avenge her. So if you were involved in her disappearance, this is your fault,” she said quietly. “You did do this.”
He swallowed, still not meeting her gaze. After a short silence, he said “If she was the bait Thea used to lock him into her plans, then maybe she is our key to releasing him from them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gina is not dead.”
