Page 105 of A Bond in Flames

The last barrier between me and my daughter. The door swung open and I walked into the room.

She lay there, so small, her eyes closed, her little cheeks pink, her hair spread out on the pillow. I’d chosen Death, and the curse was broken, but I had no idea how to wake her up.

Goddess, my heart ached looking at her. Her father was a god, and I really didn’t know what made up the other half of Marigold. I’d been a star made mortal—but if this was what the fates had planned, then the female I was now was what she needed, and I was where I was supposed to be. I had to go with my gut. I was a witch, and that meant using magic, the blood of my coven, and my gifts from the mother.

It was all I had, and I prayed it was all I’d need.

Dropping my pack on the ground, I slid my spelling knife from my pocket and pricked the tip of my finger. There was blood still on her forehead, Death’s, and I let instinct guide me, pressing mine to it. “Wake up, Marigold,” I whispered. Power slid down my arm, but it was wrong, not strong enough. I needed something, something more. Panic filled me, my heart pounding faster. What the hell was I supposed to do? Death was counting on me; Marigold was counting on me.

I tried it again, but again nothing.

I sucked in a breath.

Magic.

I felt magic around me—not mine, but magic I recognized. So familiar it was as if I were home with my family, but no, it wasn’t mine—it was Marigold’s.

She was a witch, and somehow, her ancient bloodline was connected to mine.

I shook as I held Marigold’s tiny hand. “Wake up, baby girl.”

She didn’t move.

Something caught the corner of my eye. My pack. Something had slipped out made of worn brown leather. The hat that Else had given me. Picking it up, I moved it around, studying it. My hands tingled. It was vibrating, a low hum of power running through it like it did when I was in Aunt Daisy’s kitchen. Lifting it higher, I placed it on my head.

It was hard to describe, but there was this… this knowing as soon as I put it on. The hat was guiding me, so I closed my eyes and followed. The world seemed to expand, open up. The magic pulsing through it transcended space, reaching out. I felt home, I felt Roxburgh, and I felt my sister and cousins, my aunt.

I needed them. I needed their help.

I reached out.

* * *

Rose

My hairbrush slipped from my fingers, clattering to the counter. A vision filled my mind, fuzzy but growing clearer—no, it was more than that.

“Rose?”

Ronan walked in behind me, and I felt him move in close, his front to my back, his arms sliding around my waist when he realized what was happening, supporting me as I let whatever this was reach me.

The picture finally cleared.

Zinnia.

My legs went weak, and if it weren’t for Ronan, I would have hit the floor.Oh, thank you, goddess.She’d been gone for a year, no word, no idea if she was okay—if she was even alive.

Zinny was in a room, a small child beside her. I gasped in a breath, because in that moment, I knew the things my cousin did, I knew everything, and I gasped from the enormity of it. The child was hers, and she needed us to help wake her up.

Zinnia was reaching for me, for us. She needed us.

I gasped out another breath, the vision dissipating until I was back in my bathroom with my mate. “I need to gather everyone at the cemetery.”

Twenty minutes later, I stood in a circle in the middle of the cemetery with Mom, Jazzy, Mags, Iris, and Willow. We clasped hands, power flowing through us, building, twisting.

I closed my eyes and invited Zinnia back in.

“I can feel her,” I called over the wind now whipping around us. “On the count of three, send her everything you’ve got.”

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