Light's Shadow (Copper Falls Book 3) Read online

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “They knew Esme, too.”

  “Makes sense. We already knew that Migisi and Esme knew each other. And you said that Esme knew Luc, too.”

  Sophie nodded. “Anyway. I was about to send the coven away. I feel guilty having them sitting out there. But the Light witch of the three sisters, Patti, showed up and told me to keep them. That, even if I still technically claimed them, the pull to be what they are would eventually be too great, and they’d start causing destruction, because it’s what they are.” She bit her lip. “The thing is, I think that’s bullshit.”

  “Which part?”

  “This whole idea that all Shadow does is destroy, that if you’re a Shadow witch, you’ll never contribute a damn thing to society other than pain and destruction. I mean… that desire to hurt, to destroy? It’s there. God, it’s there, Calder, and sometimes it’s strong. But it doesn’t rule me, and I think I can do some good with it.”

  “I believe you. But you lived most of your life as a Light witch. Do you think that’s why you feel that way?”

  “I’m sure it has a lot to do with it. But it also shows that with some thought and the desire to be different, a Shadow witch doesn’t have to just be death and destruction. But if they go to someone else, if they’re left on their own…”

  “They’ll fall back into that,” Calder finished for her, and Sophie nodded.

  “So I have them keeping watch. I have a few watching Esme. And I have the rest watching the Falls pack for any sign that they’re going to move against you. I need to know.”

  Calder nodded slowly. “That’s not a bad idea. I just don’t want them to get hurt if the pack realizes they’re there.”

  “I think they’ll be okay.” Sophie sighed. “I need to talk to Esme.”

  Calder shot her a look. “About what?”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little odd that just a couple hours after we piss her off at the bar, Jack’s dead and it looks an awful lot like you did it?” She paused. “There was no way that was just a random bear attack.”

  Calder’s stomach twisted. “We should leave it alone.”

  “No. I’m tired of sitting back, hoping everything’s going to be okay. We’re getting to the bottom of this. We’re clearing your name with the pack. We’re making sure the person who really caused Jack's death is punished—”

  “If she did it, it’s not like she’s just going to confess to you,” he pointed out.

  “Esme is a lot of things. Humble is not one of them. If she did it, if she caused us that much pain, I don’t think she’d be able to resist gloating about it.”

  Calder shook his head. “She’s dangerous. I don’t want you near her.”

  “I don’t want to be near her either. But if she did this, she’s going to pay. The deaths of too many people are on the head of whoever set this all into motion. I’m still blaming myself for getting Jack involved at all. He’d still be alive if I hadn’t gone to him for help.” Calder started to interrupt, and she shook her head. “But that’s my guilt to deal with. The person who killed him and put all the crap that came after into motion is still out there. And whoever it was, whether it was Esme or not, they need to pay.”

  Calder studied Sophie. “You don’t totally believe it was Esme, though.”

  Sophie gave him a small smile. “She makes sense. She’s horrible enough to do it. There's a chance that she’s behind it all.”

  “But you think it was the warlock,” he said quietly.

  Sophie blew out a breath. “At first, I didn’t. My mind leapt to Esme, and it’s entirely possible that she did it. But the more I think about it, this feels like Marshall. Manipulating, playing the angles from the shadows. That’s how he does things, and then he sweeps in when everything’s a mess and delivers the killing blow.”

  “But he’s powerless,” Calder reminded her.

  She shook her head. “Not powerless. I think that if I had gotten it all, he would have been dead. He was able to escape from a pretty well-guarded jail cell. He still has some power. I don’t know how much. Maybe enough to do whatever it was he did to kill Jack.” She glanced at Calder. “But Esme might be working with him. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Migisi’s journals?” he asked, and she nodded. “She doesn’t name her, but she refers to ‘that red-headed bitch’ and how she’s seen her sneaking around with Marshall. It has to be Esme.”

  “I think that’s a bit of a stretch.”

  “They hated each other. How many red-headed bitches could Migisi have known?”

  Ice crept down Calder’s spine. He didn’t want Sophie anywhere near any of these assholes. But he could tell from the set of her jaw, the hardness in her gaze that she wasn’t letting this go.

  “I’m going with you, then,” he said.

  He thought she might argue. He readied himself for the upcoming argument. He hated arguing with her, but there was no way in hell he was letting her walk into that viper’s nest alone.

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. If you’re determined to be by my side through all this, I'm not going to fight you on it. This affects both of us, and I can’t do it all on my own. Esme scares the shit out of me.”

  “I would not have guessed it from that night at the bar,” Calder said, and Sophie laughed.

  “I’m scared of her. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with her trying to get into your pants.”

  “Kitten, she didn’t have a chance in hell of getting anywhere near my pants.”

  Sophie smiled, and his whole body felt warm. “I know. And I hope you know that no one has had a chance of getting into my pants, either. Not since the day you knocked on my front door to tell me that Merlin had gotten into your yard.”

  He laughed, and then he leaned toward her and gently claimed her lips. She was so soft, so warm, so giving, and with just a few gentle kisses, he was on the verge of stripping her bare and worshipping every inch of her body. Instead, he made himself pull back, and she looked up at him, his own hunger reflected back at him.

  “We should go talk to Esme,” he said, hearing the faint growl in his own voice.

  “It feels wrong to want this now, with everything going on, doesn’t it?” Sophie whispered, and he nodded. “Someday, everything won’t be such a mess.”

  “Someday,” he agreed. Then he took a breath, forcing himself to calm down and focus. “Did you want to go talk to Esme now?”

  She nodded, and he stood up and held out his hand, pulling her up off the bed.

  He hated that she’d be anywhere near Esme again. But knowing that Sophie wanted him there at her side meant something. Despite all of the bullshit in the past few months, they weren’t too far gone. They would fight their way back from it and come out stronger. Because the one place he knew he wanted to be, always, was at her side.

  Chapter Eight

  It was easy to tell when they were getting closer to Esme’s house, even if Sophie didn’t already know the way. As they drove down the dirt road that led to Esme’s property, the trees at the sides the road grew more twisted; stunted, almost painful-looking in their deformity. No hawks circled overhead, and there wasn’t another living thing to be seen. No cars bothered to drive this road, their drivers surely beset by a sense of dread as they drew near the home of the witch in the woods.

  Even Sophie felt it. A glance at Calder showed that he felt it, too. His hands gripped the truck’s steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and his jaw was set in a way that told Sophie he was quite likely gritting his teeth. She reached over and set her hand on his thigh.

  “It’s okay,” she murmured.

  “This doesn’t feel like you,” he said. “I expected it to feel similar to you, but she doesn’t.”

  Sophie tilted her head. “Really?”

  He nodded. “I noticed it at the bar the other night. There’s a little bit of a similarity there, but her power feels like fingernails on a chalkboard. Yours i
s just kind of… I don’t know how to describe it. But it’s not nearly as enraging as hers is.”

  “Maybe that’s just because you like me,” she teased.

  He glanced over at her. “I definitely like you. But that’s not it. Maybe it’s her age or something. I don’t know.”

  Sophie thought that over. “That could be. Or maybe personality affects the way the power feels. She’s a pretty angry person, so maybe that’s why her power feels like that.”

  “That makes sense,” Calder said. She was relieved to see that he looked a little more relaxed. Getting him talking, trying to figure out a problem, was always a sure way to distract him. Well, she knew of an even surer way to do that, but it wasn’t the time.

  Soon.

  “You’re going to have to run as your bear when we’re done here, huh?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I feel like I’m about ready to burst out of my skin and we haven’t even gotten to her house yet.”

  “I wonder what it was like for Luc. He apparently knew two pretty powerful Shadow witches.”

  “And he had the curse,” Calder added. “That would have been a goddamn nightmare. And then add in the fact that he had a history with Migisi and who knows if they managed to find their way back to each other, right?”

  “I feel sorry for him. I mean, I don’t think Migisi meant for any of this crap to happen,” Sophie added.

  “I don’t, either,” Calder said, and she smiled. This was such a far cry from the man whose family had spent the past few generations hunting down Shadow witches of her line, that to hear him say that warmed her.

  “But I feel most sorry for Luc. All he did was fall in love with a Light witch.”

  “Well. We know it went bad eventually. And we don’t know how much of an asshole he actually was. Who knows? He might have had it coming.”

  “I don’t think anyone has that kind of curse coming to them,” Sophie said. “But it’s true. We don’t know the whole story.”

  “Maybe we’ll find out,” Calder said. “This is it, right?”

  Sophie nodded, and he turned, pulling into the long driveway that led up to Esme’s giant Victorian house. She glanced around. She didn’t see any of her Shadow coven, but she could feel them nearby. She hoped this was because of her connection to them, and not because it was that easy to pick up their power. Otherwise, Esme knew they were around, too.

  Sophie and Calder got out of the truck and walked around the front of it and toward the big wraparound front porch. Calder took her hand and walked a bit in front of her, and Sophie knew he was protecting her again, preparing to shield her from any attack that might come. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and he squeezed hers back.

  They were still a few feet away from the porch when the front door opened and Esme stalked out onto the porch. She was wearing skin-tight jeans and a black v-neck sweater that showed more than a little cleavage. Sophie barely held herself back from rolling her eyes.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Esme snarled.

  “Let’s not, okay?” Sophie said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “That’s your problem, not mine.”

  “I never took you for the type who’d try to frame an innocent man,” Sophie said, watching Esme.

  Esme’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  And Sophie’s stomach twisted. In all honesty, she’d hoped it was Esme. It would have meant that Marshall was still in hiding, licking his wounds.

  “Someone murdered the alpha of the Falls pack the other night and made it look like Calder did it. He was forced to face pack justice,” Sophie said.

  Esme’s gaze had barely strayed from Calder the entire time. Her face had gone white. “But you’re alive.”

  “I am. But I killed too many friends to be okay with how it all played out.”

  “I didn’t do it,” Esme said, still looking at Calder.

  The look on Esme’s face, that combination of loss, of longing, was heartbreaking.

  Apparently, Calder saw it, too. “I’m not Luc, Esme,” he said quietly.

  Esme shook her head a little. “God. I know.” She looked at Sophie. “I had nothing to do with that. This is the first I’m hearing about it. How did the alpha die?”

  “It looked like a bear attack,” Sophie said.

  “Of course,” Esme said quietly, looking at Calder again. “And everyone knows that Sophie fucked Jack and that you found out about it.”

  “Except that she didn’t, really, but yeah. It was easy for them to connect the dots and decide it had to be me.”

  “He knows?” Esme shot at Sophie.

  “Jack told him. The curse is gone.”

  Esme studied Calder again. “Good.” Then she blew out a breath. “It really wasn’t me. I’d never put him in danger.”

  “I know,” Sophie said. And she did. Despite how much she disliked the Shadow witch, despite how much Esme clearly hated her, she believed her. She’d never endanger Calder, because he looked like Luc, because, maybe like the other witches, she maybe thought he was Luc reborn. It was clear to Sophie that Esme didn’t believe in or care about much, but she cared about Luc, and, now, Calder. It made her feel sick. She didn’t like having her standing there looking at Calder that way, with that need in her eyes. But there were bigger things happening now, and she’d just have to deal with it.

  “It wasn’t me,” Esme repeated. “And you didn’t actually kill him,” she said to Calder, and he nodded. “Which leaves us with one explanation.”

  “Marshall,” Sophie said quietly.

  Esme sighed. “That fucker. Come in. I’ll try not to kill you.”

  Seated in Esme’s bare white kitchen made Sophie feel like there were centipedes crawling up and down her spine. Something about the stark emptiness, the coldness. It felt more like a morgue than a kitchen, and she was somewhat relieved to find, when Esme had directed her toward the refrigerator, that there was nothing there but case after case of soda.

  “Don’t give me that look, witchling. You have your vices, I have mine. Plus, they all taste good mixed with vodka.”

  Sophie had grabbed a soda for herself and one for Calder, while Esme had thunked a bottle of vodka down onto the table and poured herself a large glass of it.

  “Um,” Sophie said.

  “Relax. It takes a few bottles before I even feel a buzz. I’ve been alive too damn long,” Esme muttered. Sophie and Calder exchanged a glance.

  “So you think this was Marshall, too. I was hoping he was still licking his wounds from before,” Sophie said.

  Esme shook her head. “You should know better than that. How many setbacks did Marshall have with you? How many times did you outsmart him, manage to keep him away? Hell, you ran away from him and he had to hunt you down again. He doesn’t just give up.”

  Sophie sighed. That was true. She’d wanted to believe she’d caused him enough pain, weakened him enough that he’d given up for a while.

  “He’s weaker now,” she pointed out. “I thought he’d lie low for a while.”

  “A week or two, yes. He’d spend some time trying to figure things out, make a plan. As much as he’s able, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” Calder asked. Esme looked at him for a moment and then seemed to force herself to look away.

  “He’s not strategic. He’s all passion and rage. And power. He doesn’t plan ahead, really. He reacts. Tries things. He’s tireless in that, though, because he’s an obsessive piece of shit, and eventually it gets him what he wants. So he doesn’t waste time planning. He expects that once he starts working, he’ll get what he wants eventually.” She paused. “I don’t think he expected you to be as difficult as you have been. Those before you… he dealt with them fairly easily.”

  “Did you help him do that?” Calder asked, asking the question Sophie couldn’t make herself ask. If Esme had helped kill Sophie’s mother, she was dead.

  “No. After Migisi and Luc died or disappeared or whatever
the fuck happened to them, he pretty much pretended I didn’t exist.”

  “What was your bargain with Marshall?” Sophie asked quietly. Esme’s eyes widened, and she stared at Sophie as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “How the hell did you know about that?” she whispered.

  “Migisi's journals. She suspected. She saw the two of you together, but she couldn’t figure out how you were involved.”

  “God, that bitch hated me,” Esme muttered.

  “Maybe rightfully so,” Sophie said.

  “What else did she write about me?” Esme asked.

  Sophie blew out a breath and shrugged. “That you were Luc’s wife’s sister. That you clearly wanted Luc. That you hated Migisi. And that she saw you a couple of times, talking to Marshall, in places you ordinarily wouldn’t have been.”

  Esme was looking down at her glass, which was empty now.

  “Did you have anything to do with the curses?” Sophie pressed.

  Esme laughed and rolled her eyes. “If I was going to curse someone, it would have been Migisi. Not him.”

  Him. Luc. Sophie watched as Esme peeked at Calder again.

  “So what was it, Esme?” Calder asked gently. Sophie knew what he was doing. She just didn’t like it.

  Esme looked up at him again, her normally-cold gaze soft. “Migisi spent years on the run after she and Luc split up. After the curse,” she said, and Calder nodded, encouraging her. “And then, they were both back here, where it all started. Luc married my sister. My father arranged it. Luc did very well for himself and no one knew about the curse.” She filled her glass with more from the bottle of vodka and took a large gulp. “My sister was an idiot. She didn’t want him. She didn’t want to leave home at all. But the moment Luc walked into our drawing room to meet with our father, I wanted him. So when Louisa begged me to come with her to her new home, I didn’t even think of turning her down.”

  “You planned to seduce your sister’s husband?” Sophie asked, and Esme laughed.

  “Of course. She was too stupid to see what she had. But then, a while after they were married, we saw what he truly was. The curse. The madness. By then, she was pregnant, but she wanted to run. To go home. Bitch that I was, I told her he would chase her down. So she stayed.”