Witching Tree (Alice Gray Book 1)

62

           
Two figures materialized as the silver leaves rejoiced at my epiphany.

One small, one large; both fierce.

Emily and Thomas gazed over the mass of human and gargoyle bodies, oblivious to the pandemonium.

Eyes widening with surprise as they held mine, I knew what they saw.

Silver.

As the coven's power flowed through me and back out into the atmosphere, bringing everything that it touched under the shelter of my magic, they knew and I knew that the prophecy had been right.

The energy was mine.

"Alice," Emily breathed out, lowering her one handed flail. "What have you done?"

"What?" I stuttered, my confusion stalling the flow of power from the coven.

Her eyes narrowed, leery and mistrustful, "These people, what have you done to them?"

"Me...I...Nothing!"

My voice came out small and doubtful. The accusation scattered the remnants of the mania as I tried to quell my guilt. It wasn't me. I'd been trying to help them.

Hadn't I?

My head rang with excess energy, my insides heavy and ripe with power.

People rolled around on the floor. Pain and suffering met my eyes in every direction.

That wasn't all. There were still gargoyles. Victims that hadn't made it out from the walls, their faces frozen in stone. But their eyes. They were alive.

I'd forgotten them in the heady flow of energy. Their welfare had meant nothing to me when the silver power called.

I was just like him.

Jonathan, my father.

Caught in the judgmental glares of Emily and Thomas, I couldn't account for myself.

Frozen, I watched as the gargoyles began to creep out of the corners of the room, hissing and lashing out at the broken men and women that littered the floor.

The silver leaves crashed on swaying bows, no longer including me in their symphony of madness.

Emily swung back her flail ready to obliterate the stone bodies that rushed towards us, their speed increasing with every second that I stood impotent in the face of my own failings.

Thomas readied himself with a Katana sword. Probably less effective against stone gargoyles than Emily's flail, but that's not what these creatures were.

They were people not monsters, and I was responsible.

"Stop. Don't attack. It's not their fault, I can save them," I shouted, rushing towards them, desperate to prevent a massacre.

Emily slowed the swing of her flail and Thomas paused, the sword raised above his head.

"Stop," I wheezed again, as I reached them.

Bent over, hands on my knees, I tried to catch my breath. I gestured to the path that I'd taken. Creatures mid-way through the painful transformation were strewn in my wake.

"Look, they're turning back. They are not the enemy."

You are, a voice echoed in my head.

Emily looked me up and down. Satisfied that I wasn't under a compulsion, she shrugged, and then dropped her flail and backed up, giving me room to make contact with the gargoyles all around her.

Thomas stood, a burning look of anger directed at me as I made my way through the small area of gargoyles that separated us.

A persistent little critter launched itself through the air. I dodged to the side.

Thomas caught it by the foot without breaking eye contact. It struggled and strained, to no avail. Thomas's firm grasp didn't waver.

Neither did the hot beams of anger scorching my face.

"Put the little guy down," I said quietly, brushing my hand against the gargoyle.

It began to transform drawing his eyes away from me long enough to bring him back to the room.

He dropped the creature without a second glance, and turned back to me. I winced as the half human - half gargoyle hit the floor with a thud and rolled into a tight ball.

"No need for that," I said sharply.

I knew what he was thinking. Sneaking out without him was treachery against our partnership, against our fate. He thought that I'd chosen the silver power over him, and after what they'd just seen I couldn't blame him.

But he was wrong.

I'd left him because he couldn't unravel me from his memory of the original Alice Gray. I refused to get caught up in his seduction until it was me that he really desired.

Until then, I was on my own.

"Don't look at me like that Thomas," I started, unable stand seeing my weakness reflected back at me through his eyes a moment longer, "I'll learn how to control...,"

My face was pressed into his shirt before I could finish my sentence.

"The... Power," I ground out through lips that were mashed into his rock hard pecs.

After what must have been the tightest hug of my life, Thomas held me at arms length while he checked me over for any sign of injury.

When he was satisfied that I was unhurt, save for a few superficial cuts and bruises, he pulled me to him and held me again. The tension in his hard body relaxed as he got used to my proximity. My silver life-force flickered and buzzed, waking up, feeding off our connection.

The moment was over too soon. Thomas's muscles tensed, alerting me to some new danger approaching.

I tried to pull away, but his arms formed a steel ring around me. I strained my head away from his chest to see what the new threat was.

All I could see was a large naked guy. My one-time gargoyle friend and protector.

"It's ok, he's with me."

It was only when the words were out that I realised it was the wrong thing to say. I felt the heat of his anger before I saw his eyes flash crimson.

Crap.