Legacy & Spellbound by Nancy Holder Read Free Book Online Page B

whispered,
“Desino!”
Her vision blurred again as gray splotches danced before her eyes.
I’m losing it … Goddess, I demand protection!
    The monster froze in mid-fall. With a twitch of her finger, Holly threw it to one side, where it collapsed in a heap on the ground. Behind it stood the tall, dark-haired man in her vision. She didn’t know if her magic or his had killed the demon.
    â€œLook out,” Holly rasped as another demon rose up behind him.
    He wheeled around and moved his hands in clockwise motions; the demon staggered backward, then came at him again. It stuck its hand into its armor and brought out a wicked-looking short sword, glowing and crackling with magic.
    Holly launched a fireball at the sword, and theweapon burst into flame. Startled, the demon dropped it. Then it slashed at the space between it and the man, and Holly raised her hand to help him again.
    But this time, more of the smaller demons pounced on her, pushing her onto her back. They began to bite… .
    â€œNon, I will not die this day!”
a voice shouted inside Holly’s head. It was Isabeau. Latin words mixed with French poured through Holly’s mind as her witchly ancestress conjured. The demons held her down, slashing at her with their teeth, gnawing on her… .
    â€œNon!”
Isabeau protested.
“Live, girl!”
    From somewhere deep within herself, Holly traveled to a place free of panic and pain. Everything around her was black and icy, but she herself was a light. It was as if her consciousness had been somehow crystallized, as if it were some kind of glowing entity. It flickered; then, as if ghostly lips had blown gently on it, it grew brighter.
    â€œSpeak words of magic. I will teach you. Ecoutes …”
Isabeau urged her.
    Holly listened carefully, but the words slipped away before she could make them out. They were like luminescent bubbles, each one bobbing away, then popping as she mentally reached out to grasp it. At first she was frustrated, and tried harder. Time passed; shegrew languorous, realizing there was a kind of cold comfort in the black ice surrounding her. It was peaceful there, and there was no fear… .
    â€œNon! You will not die!”
Isabeau railed at her.
    But I
am
dying,
Holly thought.
And it’s all right. It’s better than all this running, and being afraid… .
    A man was running toward her, his arms outstretched. He wore a robe of green ivy and red holly. On his right arm rested a magnificent falcon, hooded and belled. In his left hand he held a warrior’s sword.
    Her heartbeat echoed his footfalls, which were slowed, each foot lifting up, then moving gradually downward; it was as if he were floating in the unending landscape.
“It is my Jean. Thus he has come,”
Isabeau said to her,
“through vast echoes of time, over long stretches of time apart, moons and years and centuries… .”
    He was coming for her now, to claim her. Surrounded by darkness, coming out of darkness, to bring her into darkness.
    To rend my spirit, and send my soul to Hell …
    Jean … non, ah, Jean … have mercy on me… .
    Holly sensed Isabeau’s confusion, her longing, and her fear. Jean de Deveraux was Isabeau de Cahors’s only love, sprung from her only hate. She had sworn a vow to kill him, and had not; for that, she must walk the earth. Rather, she had died, and he had never forgivenher for either of her treacheries—the massacre of his entire family, or for dying herself… .
    On he came, in the strange, floating gait; he was tall and dark-haired; his eyes were set deep, and his brows were fierce. There was such a look of ferocity on his face that Holly had no idea how to read it. Anger? Joy?
    Through the muffled thunder of her heartbeats he came closer. By the glow of her own light his features became more visible, and her lips parted in surprise. This was no stranger; this was Jer Deveraux.
    Jer! I’m