crannies of my mind and heart, sifted through my nerves and soothed my flesh. I closed my eyes. I repeated my calling. "I seek wisdom and strength in battle, and purity of heart and mind and soul."
The serenity that flowed through me seemed to move through my skin, bleeding into hers. She took a slow breath.
Her fangs clicked back in her mouth, her body trembling, her eyes bled back to human.
She set me on my feet and stepped away. Blood pounded into my head. The world reeled around me and I caught myself on the edge of the porch, fingers digging into the underlip. Somehow we were on the ground beside the chapel, the dead vamp's legs near my hand. I carefully moved away as if he might stand up suddenly and attack.
"Show me the site where this rogue rose on my land." It was said in the command tones the very old ones use. Duress. Coercion. Vamp magic. It rippled over me like dry sand scattered in a smooth arc, burning and sharp. Iwanted to go into the woods. Wantedto go back to the burial site marked with white shells. I turned and faced the woods, my booted feet on the crisp grass.
Beast touched the compulsion with a paw and batted its control away. I could almostsee it unravel from me, like the fringes of a shawl pulled free from the weave.Crap . Sabina was strong. I took a breath, keeping it slow and steady. I didn't want her to know I was unbound from her power, not if I could help it. I still had too much to learn.
I smoothed my hands over my thighs and kept myself from drawing a weapon. She was so fast I'd not get it halfway out before I was dead. I swallowed and it hurt, reminding me of her strength. "Sure. This way." Legs shaky, palms sweating, I led the way back into the woods. I didn't hear her footsteps follow, but the starched cloth of her habit made little chuffing sounds, cloth-on-cloth. The skin on my throat rose into fresh prickles at the thought of her behind me.
Still in command mode, she said, "Tell me what you know of the cross of the curse.
And how you know it."
The compulsion rippled over me, black motes of power, tinged with purple, ringing my chest, making it hard to breathe.Cross of the curse? The one she used to chase off the liver-eater . . . ? Yeah. But lying wasn't my strong suit and lying so close to compulsion was probably impossible; I'd have to lie with the truth. Was that any less a lie?
Something else to worry about later. After the children were safe.
"A little bird told me that you used a cross to chase off the creature who was attacking you. She said that it's a . . . powerful weapon."
She was suddenly at my side, visible in my peripheral vision. "Who is this little bird,"
Sabina purred, "who speaks of the Blood Cross?"
I took a chance. "An owl."
There was silence between us until we neared the ring of white shells. I would have known we were close even without the direction sense and the sense of smell that was stronger and finer than any human's, known by the glowing of the crosses nailed to the trees. They reacted to Sabina's presence from forty feet away, glowing brighter until Sabina had to stop, shielding her eyes from the brilliance.
Her voice breathy with pain, she said, "I smell the sire; most certainly Rousseau." Her eyes covered, she backed away several steps. "This place reeks of the past, of evil once battled and conquered. It stinks of witch magic, burned and strong. I smell the blood of sacrifice. Of witch blood that was spilled here. The blood of our sin.
"I have failed," she moaned, "and now our sin has multiplied." Her voice rose to a wail.
"Our sin has multiplied."
She presented me with her back, bent and hunched in pain. When her wail and its echo had dissipated, a silence settled on the woods. Sharp and acute, as if the forest itself listened for more. Long moments later she whispered, "I will give you answers at the chapel. Return there." In a heartbeat, with a rustling through the trees and a frail movement of wind, Sabina was gone. The crosses brightened for an instant and dimmed.
I now knew without doubt what was happening in the circles. A Rousseau was killing witch children, their blood and fear