Chapter 47

We screeched to a stop outside my house. Mum came out with her grimoire, a plastic container, a bag of blood and a handful of cotton swabs; Father Brennan followed carrying his own book. They climbed in the truck and Connor drove, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Mum gasped at the extent of his injuries and shoved the bag of blood at him. His fangs shot down to pierce it and he drained it dry in a minute, then we were off to Kamluck. Hopefully the box would be finished by the time we arrived.

That ten-mile drive felt like a thousand miles even though Connor was going as fast as he could on the winding road. We shot into the warehouse car park and he was out, racing towards the door.

The fire gem was sitting on the seat in its metal box, and my head was pounding from fighting it off. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten about Mum's affinity for fire as well.

Panic laced through me as I saw the faraway look in her eyes. She absent mindedly put the pot of potion on the floor and reached into the back of the truck for the gem. ‘No! Mum! You have to fight it,' I yelled. She hesitated and looked at me but then she turned back to the box. She was too far gone.

‘Fuck!' I pushed her away from the truck, reached inside and grabbed another set of cuffs from the black bag I'd thrown in there. When I turned around, she was smiling at me but her hands were covered with fire. ‘Mum, it's me, Elizabeth! You have to stop. Lower your flames.'

‘We will not stop. This world is ours.' Her voice was echoing like Elsa Wintersteen's had done when she was under the control of the gems. I blinked and my stomach sank. Whatever the problems between us, I didn't want to hurt her and I didn't want to take her power like I had taken Wrangell's. If I did that, I'd take everything from her including her position as High Priestix, and I couldn't risk that. I needed to put the magic-cancelling cuffs on her and hopefully they would clear her mind enough so she could apply the potion and ward the box.

‘Mum, stop! I don't want to hurt you,' I pleaded one more time.

‘You cannot hurt us, together we are unstoppable,' the gem said through mum's mouth. The stupid thing was arrogant, that was for sure.

As I took a step towards her, she launched a fireball at my face. I let it hit me, let the magic sink in and add to my own like I'd seen Baranof do. She kept launching and I kept absorbing until I was close enough to her.

I thought of all I could do and decided only one thing might work. I lifted my hand and slapped her—hard. Her head snapped back and she gasped in outrage. Her now fire-free hand rose and touched her cheek. I had built up a lot of hurt and resentment towards her and, if I'm honest, slapping her was a tiny bit satisfying.

She blinked and her eyes cleared. Her hand fell away from her face – which bore a bright red handprint. I cringed: that was probably going to swell. I'd controlled my strength, but it had still been a mighty slap.

She looked around. ‘Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Eli– Bunny,' she said.

‘I'll try and keep it contained,' Father Brennan said. He had his book open and he started to chant in Latin.

Connor chose that moment to come running towards us with a wooden box in his hands. ‘Mum, you have to fight the stone,' I pleaded. ‘I know it's hard – it's calling to me, too. Use the potion. The sooner we get that bloody thing in the box, the sooner we can both relax.'

She nodded and picked up the potion container. Connor put the box on the bonnet of his truck and Mum started painting the runes and chanting the words. She stopped and started a number of times, panting, clearly trying to fight the gem as she worked. It was the longest three minutes of my existence but finally she stepped back. ‘Hurry, Bunny. I don't know how much longer I can resist it.'

‘Me neither,' I admitted. I wanted to put my hands over my ears and sing loudly like a child, but that wouldn't help when the voices were in my head. But Father Brennan's chanting was doing something because it seemed easier to resist and my head wasn't splitting with the effort.

As I pulled the iron box out of the truck and set it on the ground, I heard an engine straining up the road. I glanced over my shoulder: it was Liv's sedan. Shit. ‘Hurry!' Connor yelled.

My hands were shaking. I flipped open the lid and almost keeled over at the gem's strength. It was screaming in triumph at me, and I could feel it trying to pull my power forward as it had done once before. I had to lock it down or it would destroy the wooden box.

Sweat was pouring down my back and into my eyes. I grasped the velvet lining to avoid touching the gem then I lifted it and laid it inside the wooden box.

Liv's door slammed shut. She started screaming words in a language I didn't know – some kind of spell – and the decaying stench of her magic filled the air. Hot winds swirled around me, so hot that they took my breath away. I felt something tugging at my middle and I knew that she was trying to control me. ‘Lift the gem out of the box,' she commanded.

‘Bunny! No!' Connor shouted, barrelling towards me.

‘Stop!' she ordered him and he froze where he was, his eyes furious as her necromantic magic held him still. ‘Lift the gem out of the box!' she yelled at me.

The tug came again, but it was easy to push aside and she seemed confused that I wasn't complying with her orders. But I was a hybrid vampire, neither undead nor truly alive, and she couldn't control me. I slammed the box lid shut.

Liv let out a guttural scream and fell to the floor.

Silence reigned. The gem was quiet and the pressure in my head was gone.

I looked around to see what Liv's first spell had done. Thankfully, she'd missed us; maybe that had been Good Liv's influence. Connor, Mum and I were fine, but the new truck was disintegrating before our eyes. The ear-splitting sound of breaking metal had us all covering our ears as it twisted in on itself and fell, flake by flake, into nothing but rusty dust. Her spell must have been concentrated death and decay.

Liv's face was twisted in horror as she sat on the ground, shaking her head. She reached up to touch her face. ‘Bunny?' she said faintly.

‘Yeah, I'm here.'

‘I tried to fight it,' she mumbled. ‘I tried so hard.' She looked at me bleakly. ‘That's why I insisted that Gunnar put another barrier plan in place. I was scared I'd somehow sabotage the magic users' plan. I'm sorry.' She shuddered.

‘You should apologise to Connor. That's his second truck destroyed in a couple of weeks.'

She struggled upright. I'd never noticed how small she was; her forceful presence made her seem seven feet tall. But Liv was from an ancient time and she was petite, only a couple of inches over five feet tall. Her usually perfect hair was wild and unkempt. She clutched her head. ‘What did I do? I know I cursed someone.'

‘What do you remember?'

‘Bits and pieces. Who did I curse?'

‘A couple of people,' I admitted evasively.

‘Did anyone die?' She looked concerned; maybe she did have a conscience somewhere.

I shook my head. ‘No, we stopped you in time.'

‘What did you do? How did you stop me?'

I pointed to the two boxes sitting next to the heap of rust. ‘We put the gems in new boxes that blocked their control. I don't know how long they'll hold, but we're good for now.'

She nodded. ‘I thought about doing something similar but I think I was already under the influence before I could act on it.' She stared at me suddenly. ‘I cursed you. A note, on your door.' She frowned, ‘They wanted to kill you but I managed to make it a weakening curse instead.' She shook her head as if trying to clear it. Her hands shot to her mouth. ‘Fuck! I cursed the black market mug,' she blurted, eyes wide in panic.

‘Stan and Sigrid are okay,' I relented enough to say.

Liv's eyes slid closed. ‘No thanks to me, I visited them in hospital and removed the stasis spell from Stan. I – they – deliberately let him loose to cause havoc. The gems were going to do the same to Sigrid but she'd already been uncursed and there were too many doctors and nurses around.'

‘How did you manage to curse just those two? Anyone could have touched the mug.'

She shook her head. ‘No,' she admitted. ‘I broke into Gunnar's house when it was empty. The dog went nuts, so I cursed him to sleep for an hour or two whilst I placed the curse on the mug. The nightmare curse was targeted at Stan and Sigrid specifically. I used their blood to make it.'

‘And how did you get their blood?' I asked, trying to keep my voice level, remembering poor Loki's exhausted behaviour before dinner.

She opened her mouth and then slammed it shut abruptly. ‘I think I've incriminated myself enough, haven't I?' She looked suddenly weary, and I felt a pang of sympathy for her. She'd been through hell. Yes, she'd done bad things, but were they really her fault if she'd been acting under possession?

‘Let me check you over, my child,' Father Brennan said to her.

She huffed at him. ‘We both know I'm no child, Brennan.'

He smiled at her and chanted softly in Latin. ‘She's clear,' he said finally. ‘I sense nothing foreign in her.'

‘Lucky me,' she groused.‘Come on. We'll drop Father Brennan back at the church, then we need to collect the other three elemental witches and get this shit over and done with for good. I need you to call your banshee friend.'

I stared at her. Did I really trust her? What if she was trying to trap Aoife, the way Elsa Wintersteen had wanted to? Was Liv really back to herself – and if she was, did that make her trustworthy?

Connor's hand warmed my back. ‘We'll watch and see,' he murmured; as always, we were on the same wavelength.

I nodded. We picked up the two boxes and packed into Liv's car like sardines. Either we were going to fix the town or we were going to orchestrate everyone's doom.