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Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long to see results. I felt a new, tenuous tether snake out from my aura to Rory’s lifeless body. And then it was lifeless no more. Her body shook as she suddenly gasped for air and her eyes snapped open. The whites of her eyes didn’t look as black as mine had been described, but something about them had definitely changed. They seemed murky, as if shadowed by some strange film. She blinked them in panic and started screaming.
I released my hold on Shadowed Radiance and pulled her into my arms, but that failed to stop her ear-piercing shrieks. “Calm yourself, Rory. We’re here. We love you. You’re a smart, strong, brave little girl. Remember that!”
Her body jerked slightly and she immediately did exactly what I said. Grew calm within my arms and remembered the words I uttered. No longer able to resist any direct order I gave.
“A—Aunt Ava? I want to go home. I want Sorsha!”
My breath exploded outward as her words hit home. Later, we could deal with the repercussions of my spell. For now, she was alive. And we were free to strike out against those who had committed countless atrocities against us. Strike down the twisted man who’d ordered a little girl murdered like it was nothing more than a task on his checklist.
Connor met my gaze when I looked at him. “Can you please get Rory to safety with Regina and my mother?”
He knew I only trusted the four of us implicitly, and also knew he wasn’t as fierce a warrior as Finn or even Shea. We needed them here. He nodded solemnly. “Of course, Blondie, but then I’m coming right back here.”
“I expect nothing else,” I replied, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before handing Rory into his waiting arms. Then all of us rose back to our feet.
Bridget asked one of the other Radiants to watch their backs so none of the enemy casters could ambush them as Connor darted out the front door. And then we all turned our attention to Alexander and our waiting enemies.
Dead people walking, as far as I was concerned.
Alexander had the audacity to smile with intense satisfaction blazing in his eyes. “Very well done, niece. You have surpassed all my expectations.”
“I neither need nor want your empty praise,Uncle.You may have forced me to perform that spell as you intended, but you won’t do it again. Time to join your father in death. It’s the only chance you’ll have to see him again.”
We gave the signal to strike to our allies, and battle broke out around the safe house. Shifters threw themselves against others of their kind. Spellbinders and Radiants began casting fast and furious spells. And Alexander smiled at me again before doing something I hadn’t anticipated. Cast a Radiant Seal and vanish into thin air.
Shea, Finn, and I let out angry roars at the same time. I summoned Radiant energy, careful not to touch its darker side, and searched the surroundings for Alexander. But he had fled like the coward he was.
“Fuck! He’s gone!” I told Shea and Finn, aching to do nothing but track his evil ass down. But he’d obviously ordered his forces to prevent us from doing that very thing, for they redoubled their efforts against us.
Even worse, they’d held at least twice their original number in reserve, and they poured into this area of the house to overwhelm us. Something they might actually succeed in doing since there were just so many of them. Bodies fell around the room, most of them our enemies but no few of them our own allies. A surge of relief when I saw a wounded but very much alive Marie fighting in wolf form faded when an unfamiliar bear shifter closed in with her. He was both twice her size and uninjured, and she had a difficult time defending herself.
Everywhere I looked around the room, similar fights were playing out. Our forces held their own at first, but began to lose ground when faced by fresh opponents and superior numbers. I had to think of something fast or we were doomed. Most if not all of those around me would die, and Alexander’s minions would undoubtedly capture me so he could force me to resurrect his father. My grandfather. Something I tried very hard not to dwell upon.
This was hard enough as it was.
There were simply too many for me to cast another sleep spell, especially given how much energy I’d expended resurrecting Rory. But then I remembered the images showing that other Shadowed spell my grandmother had cast. It had required much less energy but been nearly as impressive. And glancing around at the corpses around us, I knew it would turn the tide of this battle in our favor.
My mind raced as I considered the potential consequences. Grandmother had claimed using Shadowed Radiance could be addictive. Was that what convinced me this spell was our only hope? Or was it truly the best and quickest way to save us all? Ultimately, I decided it didn’t matter. If I didn’t do somethingnow, everyone around me might die, and I’d be forced to cast Shadowed Radiance anyway. Better to do it on my own terms and use it to save those I loved.
I reached out to my tethers with Finn and Shea and then to the rest of the Pack, this time drawing much less energy to bolster my own power. And then I summoned Shadowed Radiance again, planting my feet solidly upon the floor and plaiting writhing shadows into the form I’d seen in those drawings. Then I sent the spell zipping out around me, seeking out fallen corpses whether they belonged to friend or foe. And just as I both hoped and dreaded, those corpses began staggering to their feet.
Collective awe flooded the room as allies and opponents stopped to stare. Bloody and mangled bodies, both human and Shifter, shambled to their feet and advanced upon our more numerous enemies. At first, Alexander’s minions redoubled their efforts against the reanimated dead, but they were no match for enemies who felt neither fatigue nor pain and who fought with mindless focus and deadly skill. Once the first few of them quickly fell to their undead opponents, the rest soon turned tail and ran. Or at least those of them who managed to physically break away did. The rest simply died.
It wasn’t just the undead forces I’d temporarily animated who mercilessly struck down our enemies. Our Pack had witnessed too much treachery to show mercy. Especially whenever any of us glanced at the casket where my sister still lay, somehow miraculously undisturbed by the fierce fighting all around. It only reminded us of her and Maddox’s senseless assassinations, not to mention the brutal murder of their six-year-old daughter.
After that, it didn’t take long to defeat all our enemies. When the figurative smoke cleared, there were no survivors left to question. They’d all either managed to flee in that first mad rush or been methodically cut down.
Once I was sure we’d won the battle, I released my hold on Shadowed Radiance and the corpses fell immediately wherever they stood. There may be a way to cast that spell without needing to continue actively channeling magic, but those drawings of Grandmother reanimating Grandfather hadn’t shown it. And honestly, I was hoping to avoid casting more of these spells. The two I’d cast so far had left me an exhausted, wrung-out mess, and feeling slightly unclean.
Right now, all I wanted was a hot shower, a good meal, and to sleep for at least the next 12 hours. But only once I reassured myself that Rory and Sorsha were okay.
Finn and Shea claimed each of my hands once I released the magic, and they tugged me wordlessly toward the door. Bridget met my glance with a relieved expression that then grew worried. “Are you…well, niece? No ill effects from…from those spells?”
I let out a deep sigh and said, “Well enough for now, Aunt Bridget. Ask me that again in a day or two.”
She nodded before glancing over to Kayleigh with a troubled expression. “I hesitate to ask, but…you’re not tempted to cast that spell again, I hope? Knowing how much you loved your sister and that her daughters are now orphans?”
I assumed she was asking because Grandmother would want to know. Considering she had managed to avoid the temptation of creating her own undead armies—something that people who considered her such a harsh ruler without tapping into the darkest side of her magic never seemed to take into account—I now thought us lucky. Muriel Sheridan was by no means perfect, but Mother Moon…she could for damned sure have turned out so much worse.
