Page 61 of Unbearable Attraction
But as she stood there in the center of Main Street, surrounded by the spirits of the grateful dead and connected to every person who'd chosen to fight for their home, Leenah realized Edmund had made a fundamental miscalculation.
He still thought in terms of individual power against individual power. He couldn't comprehend the strength that came from genuine connection.
"You're right about one thing," she called back, her necromantic abilities shifting into patterns her grandmother's journals had never described. "I do have to choose. But not between Luka and Hollow Oak."
She reached out through the ward network, drawing on every protective intention that had ever been woven into this place. Twyla's matchmaking magic, warm with the desire to see people find happiness. Maeve's fierce loyalty, sharp-edged but utterly reliable. Miriam's gentle wisdom, deep as mountain roots. Even the visiting supernatural guests, strangers who'd been welcomed and now fought to defend their hosts.
"I choose love over fear," she continued, her voice growing stronger as power flowed through her. "Connection over isolation. Community over conquest."
The magic that erupted from their combined working wasn't the dark necromancy Edmund expected. It was something entirely different. Light that came from shared joy, strength that came from mutual trust, protection that came from people who'd chosen to care about each other's wellbeing.
Edmund's attack on her bond with Luka rebounded like a stone thrown at the sun. The corrupted magic he'd tried to use as a weapon was transformed by contact with their connection, becoming something that strengthened rather than severed.
"Impossible," Edmund snarled over the winds, his composure finally cracking as she caught a glimpse of him through the swirling magical chaos. His perfectly styled hair was disheveled, his expensive suit torn, and his cold eyes blazed with fury and disbelief. "You're just a hedge necromancer with delusions of grandeur. You can't have this much power."
"You're right," Leenah replied, feeling Luka's love flowing through their bond alongside the community's trust and the spirits' blessing. "I don't have this much power. We do."
The spirits around her began to glow brighter, their forms becoming more solid as the positive energy of Hollow Oak's defense amplified their presence. Aiyana stepped forward, her ancient eyes fixed on Edmund with centuries of accumulated wisdom.
But Edmund wasn't finished. As his magical assault faltered against their combined defenses, his expression shifted from rage to calculating desperation.
"Wait," he called out, his voice carrying across the supernatural winds with sudden urgency. "You're making a mistake, Leenah. You have no idea what you're capable of."
"I know exactly what I'm capable of," she replied, not lowering her defenses but curious despite herself.
"No, you don't." Edmund gestured wildly, his dark magic still crackling around him but no longer focused on attack. "Your family kept you small, made you think necromancy was something to be ashamed of. But I've seen what you can do. The ritual with the spirits, the way you shattered my compulsion spell, this defensive working that shouldn't be possible."
"What's your point?" Luka growled, moving closer to Leenah's side.
"My point is that she's wasting herself on this backwater sanctuary." Edmund's voice grew more persuasive, taking on the tone of someone offering a precious gift. "Leenah, I could teach you things your grandmother never dreamed of. Necromantic techniques that could make you the most powerful practitioner in North America. Maybe the world."
Through the ward network, Leenah felt the community's tension. Not fear of Edmund's offer, but concern for her. They trusted her to make the right choice, but they also understood the temptation he was presenting.
"The Blackthorne family has archives dating back centuries," Edmund continued, his eyes locked on hers with hypnoticintensity. "Spells that could let you speak with any spirit that ever lived. Rituals that could grant you influence over death itself. Power that could reshape the supernatural world according to your will."
"At what cost?" she asked quietly.
"No cost. Partnership. Think of what we could accomplish together. Your raw talent, my family's resources and knowledge. We could bring order to the chaos of supernatural communities, establish proper hierarchies, ensure that magic is wielded by those capable of handling such responsibility."
The offer hung in the air between them, loaded with possibilities that part of her had dreamed about during lonely nights studying her grandmother's limited journals. Unlimited knowledge, unprecedented power, the chance to become everything her family had been too frightened to let her be.
"This is your last chance," Edmund pressed, sensing her momentary hesitation. "Join me willingly, and I'll share everything. The Blackthorne legacy, political connections that span continents, magical techniques that could make you immortal. Refuse, and you'll spend the rest of your life wondering what you could have achieved."
"You mistake love for weakness, just as your ancestor did," Aiyana said, her ancient voice cutting through Edmund's persuasive words like a blade. "But love is what built these protections. Love is what maintains them. And love is what will ensure they endure long after your hatred is forgotten."
Leenah looked around at the faces surrounding her. Luka, steady and trusting despite the magnitude of what Edmund was offering. Twyla, fierce with protective loyalty. Maeve, ready to fight anyone who threatened their home. The spirits of the grateful dead, waiting to see if she would choose wisdom over ambition.
And she realized that Edmund still didn't understand.
"You think I want power over death," she said slowly. "But I've never wanted to control death. I want to help the dead find peace, help the living heal from loss, help communities like this one stay connected to the wisdom of those who came before."
"That's small thinking," Edmund spat, his persuasive mask slipping back into contempt. "Waste your gifts on parlor tricks and cemetery tours if you want. But don't pretend you're fulfilling your potential."
"My potential isn't about how much power I can accumulate," Leenah replied with growing certainty. "It's about how much good I can do with the gifts I have. And I can do more good here, with these people, than I ever could pursuing your vision of magical dominance."
Edmund's response was a wordless scream of rage as he poured everything he had into one final assault. Dark magic crashed against their barriers like a tsunami, seeking to overwhelm through sheer force what he couldn't defeat through cunning or temptation.
But Hollow Oak's defenses held.
