Page 70 of Resurrecting the Witch
“Guillermo.” Cliona stared at her friend. “I adore you. You aren’t just an asset to HOMES because of your empath abilities. You’re needed because of how much you care about this community. You truly want the best for everyone else, often at the sacrifice of your own well-being. You are the fifth member of my coven so you can have others to lean on like I’ve learned to lean on you the past five years.”
Guillermo, wearing a bright purple frame for his square glasses and a black shirt, took the last point of the star.
“Dom, Arch, Lavinia, and Bert—I invite you to stand between each of the points on the star, as well. Anya’s giving me a look to hurry things along, but I promise that each of you mean the world to me, so let’s go.”
My mate turned to me last and held out her hand. I grabbed it and escorted her to the only remaining spot outside of the circle between Guillermo and Lennox. I leaned forward and kissed her hand before making to step back when she halted me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She peered up at me through her thick lashes, smiling a grin that promised mischief.
“To stand with the others?” I questioned, pointing toward the rest of the Hemlocks and Kady.
“Nope, you’ll stay here. Did you really think you would be excluded from my coven, Patrick?” She smirked at me, knowing that is exactly what I thought.
I blinked, my eyes threatening to water, and gripped her hand tighter. “You would have me? Truly?” I whispered to her, knowing the others could probably hear regardless.
“You’re not allowed to leave me, Patrick,” Cliona whispered back in my ear before kissing my cheek.
“Can we please get this show on the road? Some of us haven’t eaten since breakfast and don’t like watching their surrogate granddaughter suck face with fae brutes,” Dr. Borisyuk announced to the room.
“Oh, have a heart, you old hag!” Lennox said and then snapped her lips shut, offering Dr. Borisyuk an apologetic look. “I mean, you know, just let them suck face if they want to suck face. Just because we’re not getting any doesn’t mean we have to be bitter about it.”
Dr. Borisyuk scoffed, then grabbed Bert’s hand. “Speak for yourself, girl.”
Cliona’s jaw dropped, and Bert’s pointy cheekbones turned scarlet against his gray skin.
“I’m hungry, too, Anya. Let’s go!” Gioia yelled from where she and the others stood outside the circle.
“Good goddess, let’s just get it done with then, shall we?” Cliona muttered and stood in the center of the circle. The sun officially set, the waning moon rising, so it was just in view above the courtyard walls. “Under this blessed Samhain moon…”
Cliona spoke for about ten minutes straight, some of it in English and some of it in Irish Gaelic. There were some oils, herbs, and other things she rubbed on each of our faces and hands. Then she made us take the final oath.
“Do you, as an official member of the Ó Cuinn coven, swear on all that you have been, are, and will be to protect this island from any who seek it harm?”
“I do,” everyone echoed.
“Do you also swear on all that you have been, are, and will be to use this magick only in service to this island, its residents, and to other members of our family when in need?”
“I do,” everyone echoed again.
“Let our blood pass through one another in this circle as a symbol of our connection to one another for as long as we live.”
Cliona came by with a small needle, poking each of our palms until they pooled a tiny drop of blood, then squeezed our hands to the partner on either side. After we were all linked, Cliona stood in the center of the pentacle and repeated some ancient Irish Gaelic in a beautiful melody. Stretching her arms out wide, she called her aunt and uncles’ names one by one, followed by each of her grandparents, ending with Bryg, the family matriarch.
Dr. Borisyuk gasped, and we all gaped at the sight of Cliona with her eyes closed, stretched out, facing the night sky as four misty figures surrounded her in their own protective circle. The four Ó Cuinn elders smiled at their granddaughter. Fearghas looked up from the circle and met my eyes, giving me a quick wink and his signature smirk before blinking out of existence with the others.
Pure white light shot from Cliona’s body into the shape of a pentacle before sliding into each of us that held hands around the circle. I felt the power, same as I always had with her, the refreshing, almost electrically charged essence of her, except this time it didn’t drift back into her or leave, it stayed inside me, and I felt it flowing to and from the others.
We were connected in a way I hadn’t felt before.
And above all, looking at my mate shining bright and her body easing at the relief from the pressure of this magick leaving her, allowing us to share her burdens, I felt one thing more than anything else since waking up in my grave.
I felt alive.
Epilogue
When the December full moon hit, I found myself in the familiar forest I’d used as my hunting ground since my arrival to Haven Pass. It was far enough away from the town square that I wouldn’t risk hunting for any townsfolk but close enough that I could still use Arch’s cabin as an outpost to come down from the brain craze.
I wasn’t like any zombie in the films Cliona had shown me in the last month. I didn’t meander slowly like I had no clue about what to do or run with the speed of unnatural adrenaline. I simply craved brains. And when I craved brains, there wasn’t an off switch until I did whatever I could to find one. It felt more like I was an addict looking for a fix, something I couldn’t deny if I wanted to—and if for some reason I decided to get sober, I wouldn’t be able to.
