Between Light and Dark (37 page)

"You mean you had to wait for me to be alone."

"Indeed."

"How are you going to cover this up? How are you going
to hide your involvement?" She motioned to the knife.
"Don't you think my turning up dead with knife wounds is
going to be questioned? Once the police realize you had a
million-dollar estate to gain from my death, you'll be a prime
suspect."

She had to keep him talking until one of the others returned. Surely they couldn't have strayed far.

Abrams laughed again. His laugh was horrible. She
scowled and felt some of her fear turn to anger. The man was
clearly demented.

"I'm not going to kill you, dear. I'll wait for them to do it."

Laurell arched one eyebrow. "Them who?"

"Whoever it is you fear so much you constructed that
amazing invisible force field about the property. When no
one was watching, I went outside and cut a door in the
same manner in which I noticed that Wayne fellow do it."

Anyone can cut a door from inside the circle. It's the casting
that requires magic. Wayne's voice echoed in Laurell's mind
from months before. Shit.

Abrams tilted his head to the side and continued. "So, it
will be murder, but I will have had nothing to do with it. I
will simply be the one who had the misfortune of coming
to check on the property at the wrong time."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she pushed harder at
Abram's chest. "Do you know what you've done? I have to
warn the others."

"I can't allow it, my dear. I intend to make you easy to
find for those who will do the deed. What was it your cowboy friend called them? Umbrae?"

Laurell bit her lips so hard she tasted blood. Something
wet gushed from between her legs and puddled at her feet. She looked down. The white nightgown was soaked. Her
water had broken. Abrams glanced down as well.

"What is that?" he asked.

"My baby is coming," she bit out, rage now filling her
and mingling with her fear. This was not how she wanted
her child to be born. She gulped back a sob, thinking Axiom wasn't going to be there to witness the birth. And now
she had to deal with this? With some crazy madman she
used to think of as a family friend holding her at knifepoint
until the Umbrae appeared? What then? Would Abrams
keep her immobile while the Umbrae snuffed the life from
her and left the child to die in her womb?

Sorrow, anger, fear, rage, helplessness, and despair rushed
through her veins, and she was suddenly conscious of the
moisture running over her thighs, legs, and feet. She remembered a line she'd read from the Book of Shadows: A
surface attempt to touch the water element will not work. You
have to accept your pain, release it, and realize it serves a purpose in your life. Tears streamed down her face as all of the
reasons she had to feel sadness settled in her heart, pulsing
and aching in time with the rapid cardiac beat.

She felt them then, the ghosts of her ancestors, all those
who'd walked through these halls, who were buried in the
family graveyard. They whispered over her, casting a chill.
She couldn't see them, but she could hear the echoes of their
lives, feel them surging through her blood-their blood. I can
do this. I'm a Graves. I'm a powerful witch.

"You will not hurt me or this child," she ground out, her
voice deep and ominous to her own ears.

She willed the pain into the water, into the amniotic fluid
at her feet. The puddle grew; the liquid lifted and gained
form, rising up over Abrams's ankles, legs, and hips.

He glanced down, and his eyes grew large with confusion. "What the-?"

Laurell moaned with effort and aimed all of her energy
into the water. The liquid formed a swirling wall that soon
encapsulated Abrams up to the waist. The water spouted
into the shape of a claw, wound over Abrams's knife-wielding
hand, and wrenched the weapon from his grasp. The knife
flew across the room and made a clattering noise as it hit
the wood floor.

"What are you doing?" he cried, struggling to move.

She ignored his question. Rage roared through her now.
She imagined the stream of liquid covering Abrams to the
chin, and the water obeyed. A moment later, the water
pulled away from her and started to swirl like a tornado,
with Abrams at the apex. It released him in an abrupt jerking motion and tossed him across the room with such force
that he landed with a sickening thud. His eyes rolled back,
eyelids fluttering shut. Free of its prisoner, the water immediately dissipated.

Shaking, Laurell ventured to the spot where Abrams lay.
Kneeling, she touched a hand to his neck and found a
pulse. He was unconscious, but alive.

Another spasm racked her body as she rode another contraction, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out as the
pain cleared. They were definitely coming closer together
now. She needed Hillary.

She rose and hurried to the front door. She was just
about to yank it open, when it was flung inward by Hillary,
who was in obvious distress. "Call Fiona and tell her to get
the rest of the coven here. No need for them to stay away.
The Umbrae have found us."

Axiom bounded through the front door of Graves Manor,
heart racing, nerves on edge. Wayne swept in behind him
and shut and locked the door. Not that a door would keep
the Umbrae out. Wayne had sensed Umbrae activity near the property and the two had gone in search of the source.
They had located an opening in the protection circle and
closed it. However, they had been too late. Two Umbrae attacked. Axiom had fended one of them off.

Wayne had been struggling with the other when Hillary,
apparently concerned about their delayed absence, had appeared to lend assistance. The two witches had impressed
Axiom with their ability to utilize elemental magic to dispel the Umbra. Wayne had sensed more coming, though,
and that they were already inside the protection circle,
searching for Laurell.

The sight of Laurell, dripping wet and holding her belly,
pale with obvious pain, made Axiom think for a brief, terrifying moment that he had been too late. That the Umbrae had already attacked her.

Hillary quickly told him what had happened. "The
coven is on its way." She dropped the cell phone she held
into her jacket pocket. "Abrams apparently cut the hole in
the protection circle. He wants Laurell dead so he can take
over this mansion. And I just timed Laurell's contractions.
Her water has broken. She's in active labor."

"Go. Make her comfortable in the other room so the
child can be delivered. I will do a re-visioning on this man
to see if I can determine what he knows of the Umbrae."

Hillary rushed Laurell off to the library. Axiom squatted
beside Abrams. He grabbed the man's shoulder, and closed
his eyes. Visions flickered and raced. Abrams and the grandmother, Helen, discussing a will. Abrams leaving Graves
Manor and returning on the day Axiom and Laurell first
met. Abrams's preoccupation with killing Laurell. His repeated trips to Graves Manor hoping to find Laurell there.
It was the man's memories of the day when Laurell and Axiom first met, though, that made Axiom pause and rewind.

He sensed a deep metaphysical connection that had been formed on that day between Mr. Abrams and some negative force. After that day, Abrams was alone, but not alone.
The Umbrae had left Abrams for months after that first day
at Graves Manor, but the bond had remained, unbeknownst
to the human.

Axiom released the man's shoulder and glanced up at
Wayne, who watched the process keenly.

"What did ya get?" Wayne asked.

"The Umbrae must have traced the yearning that first day
to Graves Manor, but upon reaching the place, Laurell and I
had already departed. Mr. Abrams, however, was here. The
Umbrae tapped into him much as they did the bird."

"And they've been hanging out with him since?"

"No. But they have kept track of him. And I assume
once they realized Laurell was no longer at Fiona's camp,
they revisited Mr. Abrams to see if he had knowledge of
her whereabouts. He did not, of course, but as soon as he
appeared at the mansion and saw Laurell here, the Umbrae
were aware of her being here as well."

"Then he cut the door to let 'em in," Wayne said, shaking his head. "Could you tell if he knew about other Umbrae reinforcements coming?"

"If there are, he was not aware of it."

Wayne glanced back down at the man lying on the floor.
"What do we do with him?"

"I will erase his memory of anything having to do with
the mission. Then we will send him home."

"Like you did to those folks at the gas station way back
when?" Wayne asked. Axiom nodded.

"He's okay then?"

Axiom nodded again and turned back to Abrams. Energy surged from his hands to the man's head. Moments
later, he stood, satisfied that the process was successful.

Just then the unmistakable pop of gunshots rang through the air. Axiom moved to one of the windows and lifted the
curtain. Three men and a woman stood outside dressed all
in black, wielding guns. One of the four inspected his
weapon with a look of confusion while the others pressed
their hands and bodies on the invisible force field, trying to
push their way in, but not progressing very far.

"What is it?" Wayne asked, leaning over Axiom's shoulder.

"Finders. I believe one of them may have attempted to
fire at the protection shield."

Wayne chuckled. "That wouldn't do 'em any good."

"No," Axiom agreed.

A sharp moan came from the library. Laurell. Fierce protectiveness raged through Axiom. He started toward the library, momentarily forgetting his earlier concerns about his
shadow side. Laurell needed him.

A familiar, unwelcome odor permeated the air as he
moved through the library doors to where Laurell lay on
the mattresses, Hillary kneeling between her legs. Sulfur.
The Umbrae. He spun on his heel just in time to witness
the inky blackness emerge from thin air. Red eyes stared
him down with wicked glee.

Laurell smelled the Umbra before she saw it. She yanked
herself back from the edge of her pain to see Axiom hovering in the doorway of the library, arms in front of him as he
struggled with the vile creature. Sparks of silver light emanated from Axiom as he pushed at the thing.

He groaned and grunted in effort, then more flashes of
metallic energy jolted the creature, filling it until it shrieked
and disappeared. Axiom gulped in air, broad chest heaving,
and sank onto the couch. Just as he did so, another crack appeared in the air, and another Umbra, as black as a starless
night, pulled itself into the room, snarling, its claws reaching
for Axiom. This was followed by another, and then another,
until Axiom was forced to ward off three Umbrae at once.

Wayne bounded into the room and started chanting.
Something about fire. He lifted his hands and sparked crimson flame at one of the Umbrae. It squealed in pain and
turned its focus from Axiom to Wayne.

Laurell groaned and bore down hard. She had to get the
baby born. The baby could neutralize the Umbrae. Pain
ripped through her, stealing her breath, as another contraction hit.

A fourth Umbra appeared and soon three of the nasty
things were circling Axiom's body, rubbing themselves
against him, pulsating, digging claws into his face. One of
them ripped his claw down Axiom's cheek, leaving a bloody trail. Axiom continued to surge energy at the
demons, and one of them became engulfed in a silver flame
of god-force energy and dissipated.

Wayne continued throwing energetic flames at the Umbra whose attention he'd been successful in gaining. The
creature hissed and undulated its transparent body, trying
to grab on to Wayne and finally succeeding, although its
body was alight with fire. It sunk claws into Wayne's back,
and he shrugged out his jacket and tossed it to the floor
along with the Umbra.

The Umbra attacked again, but this time, Axiom somehow managed to direct a spark of silver light at the thing
and that, mingled with the fire energy from Wayne, seemed
to be too much for the creature. It shuddered and disappeared.

Wayne stood on shaky legs and hurried to Axiom's side.

"No, go to Laurell," Axiom commanded, his voice
strained.

Pain racked Laurell's body, directing her attention back
to herself and the child on its way. Hillary's jaw tensed, and
her gaze was serious as she peered between Laurell's legs.

"What is it? Is my baby okay?" Laurell gasped out, chest
tightening with concern.

Hillary glanced over her shoulder to where Axiom had
just destroyed one Umbra and still fought the other. Axiom
fell to the floor, clearly drained from the fight. "The baby's
fine. You're crowning already. He's almost here."

Come on, honey. Hurry. Be born.

"Push," Hillary commanded, for what seemed the hundredth time since they'd come into the library.

Laurell bore down and groaned as she rode another wave
of agonizing pain.