Page 32 of The Rowan
“Of course it did, big baby. I needed to put you down hard and fast. I wasn’t going to last long against a fucking claymore,” I snarl, teasing him to help lighten the mood.
A sheepish grin covers his face. “I can’t help if my sword is big and long and needs two hands to hold it.”
Pushing back, I fall on the bed, groaning. “Stop. You’re terrible.” His eyes travel down my body, desire flaring in his eyes. I pull the sheet up around me, and he smiles. I grasp his hand. “Thank you for telling me about Moira. It means a lot to me that you would share this part of your history.” Startled, a thought occurs to me. “Did you say MacAllister?”
“Yes, Moira MacAllister. Why?” he questions.
“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got a hunch, but I need to do a little research,” I tell him, my mind racing to integrate this latest information with my witch knowledge. “Do you know if there were any other MacAllister witches, besides her immediate family?”
“I believe so, but it was a long time ago. And I’ve never met another since,” he replies. “Thank you for listening, lass. You’re welcome to stay, but I think you mentioned last night you had a meeting today?”
“Shit, what time is it?” I glance at the clock and notice it’s about noon. “Yep, got to go. We’ll talk later.” I slide out of bed, wrap the sheet around me, and grab my clothes from the floor. I bend down and give him a kiss on the cheek. With a wink, I open the door. “Thanks for last night.”
I close the door, turn around, and bump into Theron. His eyes take in my rumpled hair and my lack of clothes, and I’m sure he heard my comment to Valerian. I want to slide to the floor in embarrassment. I’ve only been living here a few days, and I’ve already spent the night with one of them. I open my mouth to explain, but without a twitch of an eyebrow, he walks past me. Probably for the best. I’m late anyway.
20
ARDEN
Callyx is standing outside of The Abbey texting when I walk up. I give him a quick hug and open a portal to Santiago’s. We step through, and within seconds, we’re in front of a sprawling Spanish-style villa, the white adobe walls and terracotta roof a nod to their heritage in a sleek, luxurious package. Santiago is waiting at the gate.
“Arden, welcome. While I didn’t expect you to come alone, I also didn’t expect you to bring a demon. Unfortunately, I can’t allow your companion into my house,” he states firmly.
Exasperated, I sigh. “Hello, Santiago. I’m not here to wage war. Callyx is here for my protection. It was him or Astor, and I thought you might feel Callyx was the better choice. Or was I wrong? I can go back and get Astor?”
Santiago relents. “Fine, but we’ll stay outside. I’m not having him in my house.”
I nod in agreement. “Works for me. Thank you.”
Once inside the gate, Santiago leads us to an area in the grass beside the pool. “Before we start, I’d like to know why you think you have an affinity for my bloodline?”
“I’ve never transfigured, if that’s what you’re asking. Nor healed someone. But if my test is negative for both those bloodlines, I want to be sure it’s because I don’t have an affinity, not because I don’t understand how to use the powers,” I explain.
“It’s unlikely you have an affinity with my bloodline, unless you know something I don’t?” Santiago raises an eyebrow in question.
“Why?” I ask, evasive in my reply.
“My family purposely limited our integration with the rest of the families. In the beginning, it was because the power was too volatile. The slightest emotion could trigger a transformation. Imagine having an argument with a friend and accidentally turning into a wolf.” He pauses before continuing, “As time went on, though, we realized the light was angling to take over the entire coven. We made a family pact to avoid any relations with the other bloodlines. And there have been many, many requests. Even now, Caro would like nothing more than for her daughter to marry me and bear a child with all six bloodlines.”
I should be shocked, but I’m not. Caro wears her ambitions like diamonds, proudly around her neck. “Well, this might be a waste of time, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to try it anyway,” I respond.
With a decisive nod, he begins his explanation. “Unlike most witch powers, the ability to transform comes first from the head. You must carefully imagine, in the most minute detail, the creature you want to become. If you accidentally forget to add a body part, it will be missing when you transform. Take your time and build a picture. Once you identify all the details, we’ll continue.”
Tilting my head to the side, I consider all my options. Probably best to choose something less predatory and potentially easier to control. When a unicorn pops into my mind, I realize it’s perfect. When I have all the details in my mind, I give him a nod.
“Now, this is the hard part. To transform, you must infuse the image with spirit, not power. Spirit gives the animal life, making it more than an illusion or a glamour. It shares a piece of your soul.” Santiago lets out a long exhale. “Reach into your soul and pull a small thread from it. Wrap the thread around the image in your head, then will the animal to accept your spirit and merge with you.”
Closing my eyes, so I don’t see Callyx’s worried face, I envision my soul, the place where my power and spirit reside. With a tug, a piece of thread comes loose. Taking it in my hand, I picture it wrapping around the unicorn, but nothing happens. Changing tactics, I stroke the unicorn’s neck and mane with the thread and push my desire to become one with every pass of my hand. Light bursts from the unicorn in a wave, swallowing me whole. The light, filled with intense heat, transforms me into the unicorn, one molecule at a time, until I stand there in front of them.
Shock and fear wage war on Santiago’s face, while Callyx is smug. Of course, he’s been around me all my life and knows I see limits as flimsy barriers.
I neigh, stomp with excitement, then nudge Callyx. With a laugh, he snaps a picture on his phone.
Santiago recovers quickly. “To transform back, think about the process in reverse. See yourself, using the same extreme attention to detail. Spool the thread back into your soul.”
Picturing myself with precise detail is more difficult than I expect. I can barely remember my clothes or how I fixed my hair today.
“Don’t worry about unnecessary details like clothes or makeup. Any clothes will work. I typically use the same image of myself each time to make it easier. For now, concentrate on the details of your body, the most important parts,” Santiago suggests.
