Possession (Shifters Forever More Book 3) Read online

  Sidonie’s voice sounded hollow and holy, both at the same time. “Nephraline, daughter of Ammit, you are called forth to cease the intrusion on this body. Vacate. You have a new vessel awaiting your arrival.”

  “Do not stay in the circle, Sidonie. Follow your own advice,” Leandra cautioned.

  “I’ll get out before Nephraline starts to look for a new vesse—” Sidonie leaped through the hedge, landing next to Leandra.

  The silver woman stepped closer to Lana. “I am calling you, your willing sacrifice, your next vessel, your forever vessel. Join me for an eternity. Take me. Be me.”

  Seconds later, a spasm ran through Lana’s body. Starting from her toes, it ran up her body to the very top of her head. A buzz of a million pins pricked at her skin as sensation began to return to her paralyzed body. She threw her head back and opened her mouth to scream. Except she didn’t scream. A sound did not come out.

  An essence came from her mouth. Like smoke, or steam, maybe, but thicker. Much, much thicker. Rising toward the beam-crossed ceiling.

  “Sidonie, the hedge isn’t high enough. She’ll escape. We’re in danger!” Leandra shouted.

  “Out,” Sidonie yelled. “Get out now. Jump in the water. Before she takes one of us!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Foolish witches.

  In his bear form, Slate ran as fast as he could through marsh and swamp to get to Lana.

  Foolish, foolish witches.

  Hell, they were all foolish—shifters and witches alike—if they thought they could keep him from being with Lana. Even she was crazy if she thought that just because she asked him to leave and he’d agreed, he wouldn’t do anything to stay with her.

  And that was exactly what he was doing.

  While everyone else—Bear Canyon Valley and Arceneaux Point citizens, both—were enjoying tea and crumpets, scones, or whatever the hell else Lézare’s household staff had prepared, Slate had slipped away and out the back, where he’d shifted to his bear and used his innate shifter abilities to make for Lana as fast as he could. There’d be no stopping him.

  He was close. He could tell, could feel his mate’s presence. Well, actually, his bear could feel it, but they were one and the same as far as he and his bear were concerned. Slate wasn’t one of those shifters who had a contentious relationship with their animal—except for those rare times when they disagreed. But then again, even the closest of people—and animals—disagreed on occasion.

  He plunged through the brackish marshy terrain, encountering nutria, turtles, otters, egrets, wild pigs. He skirted the alligators—who had the time for wrestling with one of those anyway—though his bear was curious to see if he could take an alligator. Slate wouldn’t promise the bear they’d ever return to satisfy that curiosity. He felt no need to prove he was the apex predator in the Atchafalaya Basin or any other bayou area anywhere. Give him mountains any day. Screw this messy, stinky, swampy mess. Lézare could keep it.

  Naturally, Slate wasn’t about to voice this opinion to his host. It was very evident Lézare loved this part of the country and its wetlands. Its reeds, willows, and alders, not to mention cypress trees with their reddish bark and bent branches. There might be a beauty to it, but not in Slate’s eyes.

  How much farther? He considered asking his bear if he could sense how near Lana was. Instead, he rose on his hind legs to take a look.

  There it was. The cabin!

  Slate dropped to all fours once more and started the run with the last few reserves of energy his bear had remaining. He reached the ramp and hadn’t yet shifted into his human form—but was ready to—just as the cabin’s door flew open and Leandra flung herself out, over the railing, and landed in the water.

  “Hold your breath for as long as you can,” Sidonie shouted as she followed Leandra out the door. She grabbed the porch’s handrailed and started to catapult over it when she locked eyes with Slate’s bear.

  She froze. Looked back at the cabin then at Slate’s bear. “Don’t shift yet, shifter. Stay like that, else—”

  Something must have happened behind her because, before she finished the sentence, she was over the rail and plummeting toward the swamp.

  What the fuck?

  Slate’s bear growled.

  “I don’t know either, brother. Not a clue what the hell that’s supposed to be about. Maybe don’t shift yet. Just in case. See if you can make it over the ramp without collapsing it. She’s got to be in there.”

  The bear rumbled agreement and set one massive paw on the timber plank. The wood creaked. The bear paused. Inside the bear, Slate grimaced. “Got to keep going,” he urged his bear forward.

  The bear set another. Then another. Painstaking and slowly, the bear moved, making progress in crossing the long ramp. Before long, they’d traveled a good few paces and were more than halfway.

  And then the crack came. A loud snapping sound. Like thunder on a stormy night, except this was not a stormy night, nor was it thunder. It was a beautiful, hot summer day, and it was a ramp that had no business making that sound.

  The crack was followed by a sound of crashing. The next thing Slate knew, he—his bear—was chest deep in nasty, green-and-brown tinged swamp water.

  Just fucking great.

  His bear rumbled. The sound low, cautious, as though hesitant to alert Lana—who was surely inside the cabin—to his presence. She’d asked him to stay away, after all.

  “Appreciate that,” he told his bear, though he wondered how anyone could not hear the crash he’d made.

  It took all of his self-control not to shift into his human form and swim to the porch. But he couldn’t. Sidonie’s command ran through his mind. “Don’t shift yet, shifter. Stay like that,” she’d said. And he had no clue why. Even worse—or better?—he had no clue why he trusted her enough to abide by her hastily made command.

  He began an awkward and slow swim/walk toward the porch, the water becoming deeper with every step. Finally, reaching the porch, he wrapped one massive paw around the post beneath the handrail and pulled. Grunting, his bear pulled and pulled.

  All to no avail. He couldn’t get traction. There was nowhere to put his hind paws so he could get onto the porch. His bear roared in his mind, careful not to alarm Lana. Lana, who was still in there, contending with Nephraline. And Nephraline might be loose. Images of a red-eyed, snake-haired demoness attacking a defenseless Lana roiled through his mind.

  He struggled harder to pull himself up the porch.

  Suddenly, with no warning creak or crunch, the entire porch collapsed in on itself, with the exception of the area before the front door. Timbers and posts crashed around his bear’s head, leaving lacerations and blood behind.

  His bear groaned from beneath the wooden carnage, pushing at the splintered wood and planks with his claws, thrashing to get out from under the wreckage.

  Fuck this. He was shifting. And shift he did, with the customary creaks and crunches, reallocation of sinew, the contraction of muscles, the narrowing of bones. He suffered through the shift in silence, while wading the swamp water, eager for the transformation to be complete.

  The second he was fully shifted into a man, he climbed out of the water and onto that little patch of porch he hadn’t destroyed.

  No sooner had he gained his footing on the flimsy bit of area than the cabin door opened, and a black-robe-clad Lana stumbled out. Her mouth was open, and for a split second, nothing came out. Then she began to wail, a sound so terrible as to make him want to cover his ears. Instead, he reached for her, taking her in his arms.

  “You’re fine. I’m here, Lana.”

  Her screeching persisted, drowning out his words. Her face was pale, her eyes haggard, tortured, and unfocused. Her hands shook as she wrapped them in his shirt front and tugged.

  “What’s wrong? I’ve got you. You’re okay,” he tried reassuring her, but there seemed to be no way to get through to her.

  “Hey.” Sidonie had surfaced. Still in the water, she’d s
wum to the edge of the porch. “Help me up. I need to go up there to finish this.”

  He could barely make out her words through Lana’s shrieking. “Finish it? Finish what?”

  “Stopper…Nephraline…” Those were the only words he could make out. The next ones he heard. “Get us up there.”

  Leandra joined Sidonie in the swamp, both tangled in their long black robes.

  “Damned robes.” He read Leandra’s lips because he couldn’t hear her over Lana either.

  The two women struggled out of the restricting, clinging fabric. Sidonie put a hand out to Slate. He reached across Lana and pulled the witch to the porch. Next, he reached for Leandra. He had no clue why they’d changed into robes, but he completely understood why they wanted to get out of the hampering material.

  Sidonie ran inside, taking the distance in two quick strides with long, defined, muscular legs. She picked up the silver flask he’d seen earlier and shoved a silver-and-frosted-glass stopper into its mouth. She twisted and pushed, making sure it was on securely.

  Lana became hysterical while Sidonie was holding the flask. “That thing was a woman. She turned back to a thing.” Lana repeated the saying over and over.

  He had no idea what thing she was referring to. He tried to calm her but to no avail. She grew more and more hysterical, even after Sidonie put the flask in the silver-lined bag.

  He tried to calm her down. Over and over, he stroked her hair back, rubbed her temples. All to no avail. Nothing would sedate her.

  Sidonie stepped out of the cabin. “Somnum. Iam enim domnivi.” She put her hand over Lana’s eyes.

  Lana collapsed. Sidonie and Slate caught her together. He stared at the witch, stunned. Sidonie’s face was impassive as she released her hold on Lana and let him hold her alone. “She will awaken shortly. Do not fret. And she will be panic-free. She’s had quite the experience.”

  “What are you?”

  “I am a witch.”

  “You’re more than a witch. You knew I was a skilljack.”

  She gave a shrug. Her eyes were old. So very old. “I’m also a diviner. Though I am not familiar with that term for your kind. You are a sgil mèirleach.”

  “So, if you know that name…” He studied the woman before him. “You are a druid?”

  “I am many things. I have studied in many places. Studying a way of life does not mean I am a part of that life.”

  He glanced at Leandra. “But she’s your cousin. How does this work?”

  Sidonie laughed softly. “We say this. Because it is…easier.”

  He looked between the two women.

  “You’ll keep that confidence, Slate Youngblood,” Leandra cautioned him. “For what has been done for you and your mate, this is the least you can do. Sidonie does not seek acclaim or notoriety in our world. She prefers to stay on the down low.” She turned, and walked away, her posture that of a queen, though, she had swamp water dripping from her now tangled and wild braid and locks. The greenish-brown water trailed the small of her back. Yes, a queen, even though she was clad in panties and a bra.

  Sidonie said nothing more, following Leandra into the cabin and closing the door.

  Slate held the slumbering—comatose?—Lana for what felt like five minutes. He, dripping with the brackish, nasty water, and she, clad in the same black robe Leandra and Sidonie had shed.

  Was that it? Was it over? What was next? Should he sit here on the porch until Lézare returned with the limo? Should he jump down and carry her to shore? Then what? Stay on the banks?

  A splash caught his attention. He glanced in the direction of the noise. A large alligator—had to be at least twelve feet long—whipped its tail in the water, opening its jaws wide.

  In Slate’s mind, his bear roared a challenge.

  “Isn’t happening, bear,” he cautioned. “We’re not jumping into the water so you can get into a pissing contest with an alligator. That would mean leaving Lana here on the porch alone.”

  The bear grumbled, but Slate was steadfast. Alligators weren’t the only dangers in this swamp. He’d passed many a venomous snake on his bear’s trek here.

  Indeed. He would not leave his unconscious mate to fend for herself while he let his bear cavort with an alligator.

  In the cabin, the sounds of movement, furniture shifting, clothing rustling met his ears. Should he take her inside? They closed their door for a reason, he told himself. It wasn’t an open invitation to go in.

  So he’d wait.

  And wait.

  He studied Lana. Her face was peaceful. Tired, drained, pale, but peaceful. He wondered how it would be for her now that Nephraline was gone. Would she be different? Would she feel different?

  She moaned softly, frowning, scrunching her eyes.

  She jerked, as if she were sleep-falling.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lana opened her eyes. A feeling of lightness made her feel like she was suspended mid-air. A sense of…a lightness of being.

  A dark gaze focused on her face. Worry lines etched in his.

  “Hi.”

  “Wh-what are you doing here? How’d—” She glanced around.

  They were at the cabin but—

  She jumped up and found herself flailing and reaching for purchase as the unsteady flooring she’d jumped onto began to give out.

  Slate snatched her, pulling her close.

  “Why are you soaked? What happened to the porch? The ramp? Why am I out here? What about—”

  “My bear kind of messed up the porch.” He looked sheepish. “But it was the only…well, I didn’t know what else to do. I was trying to get up here.”

  “Leandra and Sidonie? What of them?” She stared at the robes on the porch. Two black robes that matched the one she still wore.

  He indicated the door with his thumb. “Doing witchy shit, I’d guess.”

  Just then the door opened. Leandra and Sidonie stepped out. They were in their street clothes. Leandra raised a cell phone. “I called Lézare. He’s bringing the Hummer to get us. And a dinghy to ferry us out of here.” She pointed at Slate. “You owe me a porch.” She held out Lana’s clothing.

  “And a ramp,” he added. “I’m sorry.”

  “Good timing,” Sidonie said. “It’s a good thing you didn’t listen to those that told you not to stay.”

  “What happened?” Lana took the clothing and slipped out of his arms and toward the door to change inside the cabin. “Keep talking.” She waved them onward, slid inside, and partially closed the door so she could hear them while she changed.

  “I couldn’t say for sure,” Leandra’s soft drawl said.

  “She’s a powerful being,” Sidonie’s clipped—accented but with one Lana couldn’t identify—added.

  “Did it work?” Lana had to ask. She thought it did, based on how she felt, but she was new to this being-possessed-by-a-demoness thing. She struggled into her jeans. Her flesh was still damp from a soaking wet Slate holding her. God knew, jeans did not like sliding over wet skin.

  “It did,” Sidonie assured her. “She came out. For a brief second, she seemed to see outside the hedge—hence the reason we jumped out and went underwater—but she clearly did what she was supposed to.”

  Lana pulled the top on then stepped onto the porch. She took a spot next to Slate, who immediately kissed her and put his arm around her. “I’m so glad you don’t listen very well,” she whispered against his cheek.

  He dropped his hand to her hip and pulled her tight against his body. “It’s a bad habit. One I can’t seem to change.” He turned his attention to Sidonie. “So, what happens next with Nephraline? What will you do with that flask?”

  Sidonie shouldered the bag. “I’ll take to be destroyed.”

  “Why can’t you destroy it here?” Lana had a vested interest in seeing this through.

  “There’s a ritual. A specific location where she can be weakened and permanently destroyed. Where the ley lines specific to her creation exist.”


  “And that location is…?” she pushed.

  “The Nile, just west of Giza. There’s a temple there. Well, remnants of a temple.”

  Lana peered up at Slate. Was he thinking the same thing she was?

  “Sidonie can take care of this.” It seemed Leandra was on the same wavelength. She had an idea where Lana had been going and was cutting her off at the pass.

  Slate squeezed her waist. “We’re good with that, right?”

  She got the message he didn’t want to go to Egypt to see to it. Guess she couldn’t blame him. “Yeah, we are.” She sent a silent prayer up that nothing happened before this could be done. “I do have a question. What happens if she somehow escapes? Will she come looking for me? Will she grab the nearest person then come looking for me? I suppose what I’m asking is, what kind of danger am I in?” She took a breath after that long rant.

  Sidonie gave up a smile. Not much of one, and a bit on the tightlipped side. “You can trust me. I’m good at what I do.”

  “It’s actually quite lucky for you she was still around.”

  “And lucky for Ciara, too, I suppose,” Lana added. “Did you not sense Nephraline when she was in me when we were at the witch’s circle?”

  Leandra did a doubletake, as did Sidonie, who then said, “You weren’t a part of the witch’s circle.”

  “True,” Lana confessed, but I did watch from behind a bush, not far away. I’m just wondering if you sensed me—I mean her—while I was there.”

  “Maybe your skills camouflaged her,” Leandra suggested.

  “There was a lot of power surrounding that circle,” Sidonie added. “It would’ve given her a perfect place to blend in.”

  “Just make sure you incinerate her completely.” Lana put an end to the topic just as a Hummer drove up. Customized, the vehicle was longer and set higher than most Hummers on the road.

  Lézare and Griz stepped out of the vehicle. Lézare stared at the porch from the bank. He raised his arms up halfway to his chest in question.