Flamebound A Lone Star Witch No(79)

Though I have six aunts—my mother is also the seventh daughter—Tsura has always been my favorite. When I was young, she was my playmate and, now that I’m older, she is often the only one, besides Donovan, who stands with me against my mother. Not that I can’t stand up to her alone—I have, many times. But some days it’s nice to know there’s someone else in your corner. Of course, the flip side of that is she uses her position for evil, as well—meaning she comes down on my mother’s side almost as often as she comes down on mine.

My mom reaches for her sister with a shattered cry, and Tsura all but leaps the last few yards to envelop my mother in what I know is a jasmine-and-vanilla-scented hug. “It’s okay, Alia,” she murmurs softly. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Tsura holds my mother for long seconds, swaying with her in an instinctive need to comfort. But her eyes are already on my father, one hand outstretched to him as she pours healing power into him.

I know the second it hits him, because Rachael draws back like she’s been burned. And in a way, she has been. I’ve been the recipient of Tsura’s power more than once, and while I’ve been thankful for it every time, never has it been a particularly pleasant experience. There’s just too much of it; it’s just too overwhelming and all-encompassing to be mistaken for anything but the invasion it is. Whereas Rachael’s gift is gentle, soothing, Tsura’s is like an eighteen-wheeler plowing through every defense you’ve got.

But in this moment, I’m glad for that. Because if anyone can help my father—if anyone can ferret out what’s causing this—it’s my aunt.

Tsura gives my mother another minute or so, and then gently pulls away and walks to my father’s bedside. She runs a hand over my shoulder in silent greeting, does the same to Rachael. And then all her focus, all her magic, becomes centered on my father.

“Leave us,” she tells Rachael and me. Then, “Alia, go stand on his other side. Hold his hand but do nothing else until I tell you.”

Reluctantly, Rachael and I slip out. I close the door behind us, then turn to find my sister slumped against the wall. Now that she’s out of the darkened room, and away from Mom and Dad, I see how drained she really is. In fact, she’s so gray and drawn-looking that I’m not sure she’ll make it to her room in the adjacent wing under her own power.

“You have to stop doing this to yourself,” I scold even as I wrap an arm around her waist and gently begin propelling her down the hall. “You’re going to kill yourself one day.”

My words fall on deaf ears, just as I knew they would. Rachael is a healer—it’s in her blood, in her magic, in every breath she draws and every action she performs. Over and over again she’s sacrificed herself for the good of the coven and she’ll continue to do so until the day we scatter her ashes in the wind.

“I’m fine,” she says, even as she limps along like a woman fifty years her senior.

“Yeah. I can tell.” I strengthen my hold around her waist, take more of her weight.

“He’s sick, Xan, really sick.”

“I know.”

“I couldn’t find the source.” She sags against me, rests her head on my shoulder as we make slow but steady progress. “It’s a curse, it has to be. But who could get through his defenses so easily? And Jared’s? And Mom’s? And then have magic so strong that I can’t even find what was done let alone try to neutralize it. It doesn’t make sense.”

My blood runs cold at her words, though I do my best not to let Rachael see how much she’s disturbed me. Because, besides Declan and my mother and a few other witches and wizards—none of whom would have any reason to harm my father—the only people with the kind of power to do something like this all belong to one group.

The Arcadian Council of Witches, Wizards and Warlocks.

It looks like Declan was right.





Twenty-four





Fury and fear rip through me as the idea sinks in. I think of all my conversations with Declan, my determination not to harm any members of the Council until we find out the truth. I could have let him end them all, but I didn’t. And this is how they repay me? By trying to kill my father?

Why did it never occur to me before that something like this might happen? I’ve been so worried about Declan—about what he’ll do and what the Council will do to him—that I never thought to worry about my family. To warn them. I didn’t want them to worry, didn’t want to deal with Jared and the rest of my father’s security force camped out on my doorstep while he and my mother went after the ACW.