The wolf seemed to hesitate, black eyes watching us carefully. I didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe. Maybe this could work. Maybe Connor could somehow reach out to the shred of his brother still buried deep within the creature. After all, we’d taken Marie’s assertion at face value when she said the only way to stop Damon now was by killing him. For all I knew, she had her own agenda at work, her own reasons for wanting the primus out of the way.
I could feel the world shift, feel the planet poised in that perfect tipping place between dark and light, neither one nor the other taking precedence. The power throbbed within me, but waited as well, as if it was holding its breath along with the rest of us.
Then Damon sprang. I saw the shock and horror on Connor’s features even as I gathered up the strength I needed to drive the creature back, the power glowing within me like the white-hot center of a star. And as I did so, I felt the wrongness pulsing from the wolf, sensed how anything that might once have been Damon Wilcox had been warped and twisted to serve its need for chaos and death.
How can you save someone when there’s nothing left to save?
As I flung the power outward again, it seemed as if the very earth itself lent its strength to my attack, that sense of balance asserting itself to destroy this thing that had perverted every law of nature. The light arcing out from me was no longer golden, but pure, searing white, the kind of light that will sterilize everything it touches.
The wolf let out an unearthly shriek and dropped to the floor. From the unnatural angle at which it lay, I could tell that its neck had been snapped. It whined, and as Connor and I both watched in shock, the shape of the wolf lying on the tile seemed to melt away, leaving the body of a man behind.
“Oh, God,” Connor groaned, and went to him at once, dropping on his knees so he knelt by his brother’s head. “Damon, can you hear me?”
No movement at first, but then the long black eyelashes fluttered against his pale cheeks. Only enough for him to open his eyes a fraction, to focus on his brother. “Connor…sorry.”
“Don’t try to talk.” Wincing, Connor reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Stay still. I’m going to call 911.”
“Don’t…bother.” Damon’s eyes shut. Without opening them, he murmured, “This is why I wanted you, Angela. So…strong….”
A shudder went through him, and he seemed to go even more limp, if that were possible. Not sure whether I should approach or should stay out of the way, I hesitated, watching as Connor sucked in a breath.
“No…please, no.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and realized Jessica’s ghost had moved toward us, looking almost expectant, as if she’d been waiting here for the moment when Damon would meet her in death. There was even a faint smile on her lips.
Damon somehow managed to reach out and touch Connor’s hand. “It’s yours now. Take care of the clan.”
And as Connor began to shake his head, words of denial rising to his lips, Damon’s eyelids opened one last time. An expression of pure joy passed over his features, and he gasped, “Felicia!”
Then he truly went still, and Connor bent over him, shoulders shaking, a horrible wracking movement, as if he couldn’t allow any tears to fall but at the same time couldn’t contain the agony of grief surging through him.
And I looked up to see Jessica shake her head, tears glittering on her cheeks. Then she melted into nothing.
* * *
After that — well, I’d like to say that I’d forgotten large parts of it, but no, Marie came in only a few minutes later. Apparently she’d driven out after us and parked some distance away, waiting to see what would happen. When she spotted me helping an obviously distraught Connor into the borrowed Porsche, she took that as the signal to come in and start the mopping-up operations.
True, she was very efficient, and thank the Goddess for that. She told me to take Connor home, and that they’d manage everything. Numb, I did as I was told, some irrational part of me worrying that I was going to crash Lucas’s car on the way back into town, and wouldn’t that just be the cherry on the cake of everyone’s day.
Crazy what your mind dwells on when it doesn’t want to focus on the really important things.
But we arrived intact. Well, physically anyway. I helped Connor up the stairs after parking the Porsche on the street. Somehow or another we’d have to get the car back to Lucas, but that was sort of low on my list of priorities at the moment.
Connor slumped onto the couch, not looking at me, or at anything in particular. Not that I could really blame him for being shell-shocked; he’d just lost his brother and become the new primus of the Wilcox clan in the space of a heartbeat.