Which Witch is Which - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,130

said, his sword in hand. “Gwen from the coven called. The witches are on the move.”

“Finally,” Nick said. “Some action.” He jumped up and grabbed his bow and quiver full of arrows.

“Where are they headed?” Julian asked, reaching for his trench coat and slipping it on.

“West of town, in a place she referred to as the Siren's Cry. Apparently Port Townsend has Standing Stones.”

“Of course it does,” Bane murmured. This place seemed as full of magic as the old country. Maybe even more.

“Horses then?” Nick said with relish.

“Yes, gather the horses.” Julian shared Nick's smile. Julian hadn't adjusted well to motorized transportation and loved it when their spirit horses were called into service.

“We got a plan?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, stop them,” Dru said.

“Good plan.” Nick nodded. “I like it.”

“Remember we need to stay focused,” Julian said, looking at Bane.

“Humanity is at stake. We must do everything we can to stop the Apocalypse from happening. No matter what the cost.”

It wasn't like they hadn't done this before. They didn't need a freaking pep talk. “Would you shut the fuck up?”

“No need to be uncivilized, brother.”

It wasn't lost on Bane that Julian left his gloves behind. Yeah, yeah, whatever. “There is nothing civilized about who we are,” Bane growled.

“Enough bitching,” Nick said. “Let's do this thing.”

Their horses waited for them outside, prancing and nickering to run. War's steed was a rich, red chestnut with hooves that pounded the ground with excitement. While Conquest's, Magnus Rex, gleamed white in the moonlight and stood at the ready to be commanded. Archimedes, Julian's stallion, absorbed all the light around him, black as the deepest darkest place of hell, with a devilish attitude to match.

Death rode a pale horse.

Bane had never named him in all these years. Having seen so much death and sorrow, he hadn't wanted to get attached.

If he didn't care, there'd be no cause for grief.

The horse looked at Bane as though he understood. He welcomed him with a whinny that sounded much the same as his purr when in motorcycle form. Patiently he waited for Bane to mount.

Dru swung onto the back of his warhorse, brandishing his sword into the air. His horse arched up on his hind legs and led the charge.

“Such a fucking showoff,” Nick said, as he reared his horse and spun Magnus in a tight circle before galloping off after Dru with a battle cry of his own.

“Shall we, brother?” Julian regarded him with concern, holding back an impatient Archimedes.

“This ends now,” Bane said, giving the horse his head.

Tierra de Moray would no longer haunt him after tonight.

“You weren't kidding about the stones being haunted,” Moira whispered. “I feel like I got ghosts usin' me for toilet paper.”

“It's the mist,” Aerin breathed.

“No, it isn't,” Tierra said. “There's someone in there.” Goose bumps rose on her skin as awareness of something—someone—made herself known.

“She's right,” Claire said. “She's standing to the side of the tallest stone. Do you see her now?”

“Uh…I think so,” Aerin said. “Holy Jesus.”

“Uncle Sal told me never to talk to strangers,” Moira said. “'Specially ones that might be dead. We ain't goin' in there, are we?”

“Yes, we are.” Tierra stepped through the Standing Stones, her breath catching at the power that tingled and caressed her skin. It was almost painful, in an over sensory type of way, as the Stones allowed her entrance.

“Tierra!” Moira cautioned. “Well, shit. Here goes nothing.”

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Aerin muttered, following Moira into the circle.

“Me, either,” Claire said. “But what the hell? You only live once.”

“I don't want that once to end tonight,” Aerin said under her breath.

The four of them stood abreast of each other as an apparition glided over the glistening, mist-painted wildflowers. She was dressed in shimmering veils, her hair long and black flowing around her in shadowy waves. Her eyes were a startling sapphire blue.

“Hello, my lovely daughters.”

“Daughters?” Moira whispered.

“Listen to me, and heed my words.”

“Wait,” Aerin started.

Tierra grabbed her hand to silence her. “Shh, she isn't here. Now. She was when she left this message for us.” She didn't know how she knew this, but she did.

Mirelle de Moray continued like an echo from the past that had lain dormant until the four of them had crossed over the threshold into the Standing Stone's shielded circle.

“I believe that life is made of choices and not dictated by fate. You came from me and your father. Created by a great love. A love like that doesn't produce evil no matter what anyone else says or what

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