Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Zinnia

It was quiet, way too freaking quiet.

"How are you getting in there?" Pascal asked.

There were several yards between us and the temple. So far, we hadn't seen any demons scouting the place, but they had to be there. I slid the vial from my pack. "Death's blood."

"Are you sure it'll work?"

"No, but Death said it would. It's our only hope right now." I still wasn't sure if this male could be trusted, though every instinct I had said he could be. I tucked the blood safely back in my pocket and slid out my small knife. I made a slice in my palm and then whispered a magic-boosting spell.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pascal asked, sounding horrified.

My power instantly shot higher. "I'm a witch. My coven uses blood to spell and for a power boost. If we get attacked, I'm going to need my magic at full strength."

His head jerked back. "You're a witch?"

"Yes, why?" I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He shook his head, but a small smile teased his lips. "No reason."

I didn't have time for whatever that was. "You ready?"

He nodded. "If the demons come, leave them to me. Your priority is to get the door open. They can't follow us in, so you get the door open, and we're safe."

Pascal had a nice face. The guy was handsome, charming, and Somnus had mentioned him by name at our dinner. He'd said he'd trust him with his life, with Marigold's life. "If you are who you say you are, Somnus will be pretty pissed if I let you get hacked into tiny pieces by a bunch of demons."

He chuckled. "You think they'll get the chance? You've seen what I can do."

This was true; the male was skilled.

I turned back to the temple. Marigold was just inside. I almost had her in my arms. I just had to get through that door, and I'd have had my baby back. I'd have my daughter.

Lightning flashed in the distance, cracking through the sky right over Nox's tower.

"They're fighting," Pascal said. "Last time they fought like this, it felt as if the world were ending."

The first time Nox killed me, they'd battled. I hadn't asked Death how. "Death's powers are weakened here."

Pascal shrugged. "They don't seem weakened anymore."

He'd better be okay. "We need to make a move."

He nodded, jaw tightening with determination. "Just get to Marigold, and leave the rest to me."

"If you betray me, if you turn on me—"

"I won't."

"If you do, if my daughter gets hurt because of you, I will hex you. I'll make you wish you were dead," I said, meaning every word of it, the words coming from my gut, an oath wrapped in power.

He dipped his chin. "And I'd deserve it." He slipped one of his blades from his chest holder, sliced his palm with a wince, and grabbed mine. "I will never betray you, Zinnia, or anyone you love." Our blood mingled, binding his words in a blood oath.

Okay, I was definitely starting to like this guy. "Glad we're on the same page."

He grinned. "Me too. I sure as hell wouldn't want to be your enemy."

"Wise." Death's cloak was like a stormy sky gathering around me. It sensed the temple as well.

I dug one of Mags's potions from my pack and handed it to him. "Wait until the demons are close, then throw it. The glass needs to smash, but get the hell out of the way fast."

His brow lifted as he slid it in his pocket. "What does it do?"

"Melts faces off."

His eyes widened, and then he grinned again. "Excellent."

Taking the vial of Death's blood from my pocket, I poured some on my palm, and the shadows slid along my arm, around my hand. I turned to Pascal. He stood beside me, a wicked curved knife in each hand, twirling them slowly as he scanned the area around us. "Ready?"

He flashed another grin. "Let's do it."

"In three, we run."

He dipped his chin.

I held up three fingers. Three. Two. One.

We both exploded out of the trees and made a run for the temple door. The demons hiding, guarding the place, hadn't been expecting us. They'd obviously bought Death's lie. We made it to the door, and I copied the symbol Death had done when we first came here, drawing it in his blood while Pascal guarded my back.

Demons swarmed us, closing in.

The shadows gathered thicker around my hand, and the door rumbled; then slowly, shuddering, it finally swung open. "Come on!" I called to Pascal.

"I'm right behind you," he said, fending off the demons, using those knives, moving with a kind of grace, a dance, like nothing I'd ever seen before.

I ran in, my heart slamming against the back of my ribs. Every muscle in my body trembled, adrenaline pounding through me as I slowed and walked weak-kneed down the hall toward my daughter. She'd been in stasis so long, so very long. There was no way she could know who I was. When she went to sleep, I was someone else. My heart knew her, though, and my memories were so vivid. Her birth, the weight of her in my arms, the way she smelled, the sound of her voice—it was all there, so real, as if it were this body, this life, that had experienced all of it.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed my hand, still stained with Death's blood, to the door in front of me and whispered the words he'd given me to gain access.

The last barrier between me and my daughter. The door swung open and I walked into the room.

She lay there, so small, her eyes closed, her little cheeks pink, her hair spread out on the pillow. I'd chosen Death, and the curse was broken, but I had no idea how to wake her up.

Goddess, my heart ached looking at her. Her father was a god, and I really didn't know what made up the other half of Marigold. I'd been a star made mortal—but if this was what the fates had planned, then the female I was now was what she needed, and I was where I was supposed to be. I had to go with my gut. I was a witch, and that meant using magic, the blood of my coven, and my gifts from the mother.

It was all I had, and I prayed it was all I'd need.

Dropping my pack on the ground, I slid my spelling knife from my pocket and pricked the tip of my finger. There was blood still on her forehead, Death's, and I let instinct guide me, pressing mine to it. "Wake up, Marigold," I whispered. Power slid down my arm, but it was wrong, not strong enough. I needed something, something more. Panic filled me, my heart pounding faster. What the hell was I supposed to do? Death was counting on me; Marigold was counting on me.

I tried it again, but again nothing.

I sucked in a breath.

Magic.

I felt magic around me—not mine, but magic I recognized. So familiar it was as if I were home with my family, but no, it wasn't mine—it was Marigold's.

She was a witch, and somehow, her ancient bloodline was connected to mine.

I shook as I held Marigold's tiny hand. "Wake up, baby girl."

She didn't move.

Something caught the corner of my eye. My pack. Something had slipped out made of worn brown leather. The hat that Else had given me. Picking it up, I moved it around, studying it. My hands tingled. It was vibrating, a low hum of power running through it like it did when I was in Aunt Daisy's kitchen. Lifting it higher, I placed it on my head.

It was hard to describe, but there was this… this knowing as soon as I put it on. The hat was guiding me, so I closed my eyes and followed. The world seemed to expand, open up. The magic pulsing through it transcended space, reaching out. I felt home, I felt Roxburgh, and I felt my sister and cousins, my aunt.

I needed them. I needed their help.

I reached out.

* * *

Rose

My hairbrush slipped from my fingers, clattering to the counter. A vision filled my mind, fuzzy but growing clearer—no, it was more than that.

"Rose?"

Ronan walked in behind me, and I felt him move in close, his front to my back, his arms sliding around my waist when he realized what was happening, supporting me as I let whatever this was reach me.

The picture finally cleared.

Zinnia.

My legs went weak, and if it weren't for Ronan, I would have hit the floor. Oh, thank you, goddess. She'd been gone for a year, no word, no idea if she was okay—if she was even alive.

Zinny was in a room, a small child beside her. I gasped in a breath, because in that moment, I knew the things my cousin did, I knew everything, and I gasped from the enormity of it. The child was hers, and she needed us to help wake her up.

Zinnia was reaching for me, for us. She needed us.

I gasped out another breath, the vision dissipating until I was back in my bathroom with my mate. "I need to gather everyone at the cemetery."

Twenty minutes later, I stood in a circle in the middle of the cemetery with Mom, Jazzy, Mags, Iris, and Willow. We clasped hands, power flowing through us, building, twisting.

I closed my eyes and invited Zinnia back in.

"I can feel her," I called over the wind now whipping around us. "On the count of three, send her everything you've got."

"We got you, Zinny," Jazzy said, tears sliding down her face, her eyes bright with joy, with relief that her big sister was alive. "Let's give her all the power she needs."

"One, two… three." Power surged through me, and I cried out, holding on, holding it inside me. I wouldn't let go until the right moment.

I closed my eyes, and a vision of Zinnia standing over the child filled my mind once more. Her red hair flew around her face. "Now," she yelled, calling out to us.

"Now," I called back and released it, sending every bit of magic we had through the connection between us.

* * *

Zinnia

I pressed my finger to the blood on Marigold's forehead, mixing my blood with Death's as power surged through me and into my daughter's tiny body. She jolted, her mouth opening on a small cry.

I yanked my hand away, and the connection between Rose and me fell away. Oh goddess.

"Marigold?" I brushed her hair back from her face. She had to be okay. "Wake up for Mommy."

Her eyelids quivered.

"Marigold?"

She blinked once, twice—then stared up at me with wide blue eyes.

My heart felt as if it exploded in my chest, and my hand shook as I brushed her hair back again. "Hello, baby," I whispered.

She sat up, and her hair, long and soft and as black as night, fell around her shoulders.

We stared at each other, those wide blue eyes identical to Death's searching mine.

Then finally, she reached up, her hand touching my jaw, still blinking as if she was trying to clear her vision, and then she tilted her head to the side like Death often did and smiled. "Mommy."

She felt it. Oh goddess, she felt the connection between us the same way I did. A tear streaked down my cheek as I scooped her up and held her to me.

She wrapped her little arms around me tight. "I've been waiting for you," she said in her sweet little voice.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I took so long, baby." I stood, carrying her from the room as Pascal burst through the doors, covered in blood and ash. He was scratched and bruised, but thankfully, nothing life-threatening.

"Pascal!" Marigold cried, her eyes lighting up.

He dipped into a bow and grinned at her. "Lady Marigold, princess of Limbo, queen of all witches, as always, I am at your service."

She giggled.

"We spent a lot of time together in the Dream Realm, didn't we, Mari, with Uncle Somnus."

She nodded, then rested her head on my shoulder.

"Queen of witches?" I'd definitely felt her magic. I'd been right; the other half of Marigold's DNA was witch, and somehow, her bloodline was connected to my coven.

"You know your soul was once a star, yes?" Pascal said.

It seemed impossible, but it was true. "Yes."

"Well, you had sisters, and when you were pulled from the sky, they fell with you, but they were scattered to different realms. You and your sisters were the very first witches. No, they didn't practice magic like you do, but the magic was there."

"How do you know this?"

"I've been around a very long time, Zinnia, in the Night Realm and a part of Nox's court." His mouth twisted, hatred filling his eyes. "She truly is an evil bit—" His gaze slid to Marigold.

"But that doesn't explain how my and Mari's bloodlines are connected now."

"One of your sisters fell to earth, and your family descends from her. That's why it worked this time, why the fates chose you to break the curse and wake Marigold…" He smiled gently. "It was always going to be you. It had to be you."

My heart pounded in my chest. I'd been a witch in my first life as well. That's why my dying vow wasn't in vain—it was wrapped in magic.

"Love the hat, by the way," Pascal said, looking me over.

"So do I, you have no idea how much," I said and pressed my nose to Marigold's head, breathing her in.

"Can we go home now?" she said sleepily.

Pascal read my instant concern. "She'll be sleepy for a little while, until she gets used to being awake."

I tilted my head to the doors and raised a brow in question.

Pascal nodded. "I made good use of your potion."

I tucked Mari in close. "Yeah, baby, we can go home now."

The forest was quiet when we left. We had to hide a few times from demon scouts, but we made it back to the beach without too much trouble. When we reached the dinghy, three demons were waiting for us. Pascal's hands were a blur as he took them out easily with his knives.

Now we just had to wait for Death.

But the lightning and thunder hadn't slowed; it intensified, and I was getting seriously worried.

Death was a part of me now, and his rage was bigger than I'd ever felt it, and the more time that passed, the more lost to it he became. He was buried so deep in his hatred, in his need to hurt Nox for all she'd done to him and his brother and to me and Marigold, he couldn't get back out.

I knew if I didn't do something, he'd lose all sense of time and place; he'd be trapped in that rage and struggle to find a way back out.

I had to do something, and I had to do it now.

"You need to go with Uncle Pascal, okay, Marigold? Mommy will be back soon."

Pascal turned to me, alarm on his face. "What are you doing?"

I looked up at the sky as lightning forked through it, and a moment later, a boom rumbled so loud, the ground shook. "I need to go and get him."

"It's too dangerous," he said, shaking his head.

"I don't have a choice." I handed my daughter to Pascal, and he took her, holding her in a way that let me know he'd done it before in her dreams. "Take her to the ship and wait there. If I'm not back by morning, go without us."

Pascal jerked back. "What? No."

"The only thing that matters is keeping Marigold safe. If we're not back by morning, get her to the castle, to Somnus."

"Zinnia—"

"Promise me," I said.

"Hang on a minute—"

" Promise me ."

His jaw tightened. "I promise."

"Thank you. Now get in the boat." I kissed Marigold's soft cheek. "I'll see you soon."

"No," she whimpered. "No, Mommy."

"It's going to be okay." I opened the cage strapped to my waist, and Hemy scurried out. "This is Hemlock, my familiar. He's going to be sad without me. Can you look after him for me until I come back?"

Her eyes lit up as she gently stroked his back, nodding.

"Good girl. He likes lots of cuddles and treats. Do you think you can do that?"

She nodded again as I handed him to her. I kissed his furry little head. "Look after her," I said to him.

He squeaked that he would, a fierce look on his sweet face.

I gave Marigold one more kiss, then started back the way we'd come.

The kind of power Death and Nox had wasn't something I understood, but that went both ways. They didn't understand magic. We worked on different frequencies; we drew our powers from different places, in different ways. That was my advantage, my only advantage. Still, I needed more than magic; I needed the power of a goddess.

This time, when I called for the mother, I did it with the magic of my family behind it, amplifying it. This time, I had the hat. The mother was volatile, and she hated being disturbed. But our coven had worshipped her faithfully for generations. We gave and we gave, and it was time she gave back.

Breathing deep, I let my soul call out her name, her true name.

Terra.