Premonition of Peace (Her Immortal Monsters #3)

Chapter 11

eleven

NATHALIE

I stared at her for a long moment, waiting for an explanation or some kind of expansion as to what she was actually talking about.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I put my hands on my hips, glaring at her.

My sister barely seemed to hear me, her eyes turned back to Carissa, her hands shaking as they lay in her lap. Instead of answering, she muttered to herself, whispering quietly about how hard she tried, how everything was over now, how she would never find “her” again, and so much more. I huffed roughly and looked away, running my hands through my hair.

“ Katherine .” She didn’t answer. “Fuck, Kat, answer me.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, and she frowned. “I tried to save us, Nat. I really did. I tried so hard.”

She blinked back tears, and my mouth nearly dropped open. The last time I saw Kat cry was the day Prudence died.

“I don’t understand. You’re not explaining anything.”

“What is there to explain? Everything is over.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “Might as well pack it up and start our goodbyes.”

I was struggling, my anger rising until it was barely contained. With everything happening around me, with all of the people depending on me, I didn’t have fucking time for this. I felt like she was wasting what little moments I had, and it was driving me up the wall.

“For fuck’s sake! Enough with the cryptic words,” I demanded, my voice shaking. “I need answers, Katherine. Now .”

“Nat, it’s not that simple.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to back down. I was getting answers today if it killed me. Too many things counted on me being right. Too many people counted on me being successful, and I couldn’t afford to let any one of them down. I hadn’t failed before, and I wasn’t ready to start now. At least not with this.

“Katherine, I swear to the gods if you don’t start talking . . .” I stopped myself, taking a deep breath before I began throwing out haphazard threats. Slapping the shit out of her crossed my mind. Maybe it would knock some sense into her.

She sighed deeply and looked away. For a second I thought she wasn’t going to answer and that would have probably sent me over the edge. But she did answer, finally.

“How much do you actually know about our family history?” she asked in a somber tone.

“What are you even talking about?” I felt like this whole conversation had been nothing more than rambling nonsense, leaving me confused over her refusal to answer my questions in a way that made any sense at all. Why was she making this difficult?

“I am talking about the fact that there is so much more to the Le Fays than you could ever imagine.”

“Yeah, all of us are fucked up and we all have some serious family of origin issues. What else is there to know?”

She rolled her eyes, a bit of the normal Kat peeking through. “You think you knew everything when you ran off and left us all behind? There are more secrets than you could ever imagine.”

“Well, enlighten me. Our whole family’s dead now besides us, so what’s the leftover secrecy for?”

“Really nice, Nat.”

I shrugged but didn’t defend my words. Sure they sounded harsh, but it was the truth, and more importantly, I didn’t give a fuck. My whole family. Their beliefs. Their actions. Death didn’t change who they’d been in life, nor did it change the pain it caused me. At this point, all I wanted was answers so I could go back to ignoring my family name and their fucked-up legacies.

“Look, just answer me this, were you and the coven stupid enough to bring back Morgan Le Fay?”

“What are you?—”

“Yes or no?” I bit out, my eyes never leaving her. Again, I didn’t have time for the ambiguity. I glared at her with a hard expression.

“No.”

I felt myself deflate at her words as my hands dropped to my side and my shoulders hunched over.

“That changes everything,” Ann said from the loci, pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. “I will have to change all of the plans. Every calculation.”

“We can’t calculate shit until we know who the hell is in Sasha’s body,” Bad Nat seethed, leaning over the files Ann had spread out.

“Move,” Ann muttered, batting her away.

“You’re telling me The Morrigan has nothing to do with this?” I asked Kat, trying to ignore the input from the loci. I needed to focus, especially because if that was the case, it was hard to believe. Actually, believing it fucked up all of my assumptions. And that was why I had been hesitant to speak my thoughts aloud.

“I didn’t say that.” Kat weighed her words before adding, “Technically, no one can bring her back to life. She can’t die in the first place.”

“Huh?” I blinked, not understanding.

“The Morrigan,” she drew out her words like she was talking to a toddler, “can’t die.”

“Thanks for repeating yourself. That really cleared it up for me. Oh, wait ,” I said sarcastically, shooting her a dirty look. “How about you elaborate here? Witches aren’t immortal. Even her. We can all die.”

“Our bodies can die, but our souls can be immortal,” she said as she rose to her feet. Katherine cast one last look at Carissa. Her face was hard to read. Her expression wasn’t filled with sadness. More like a dejected acceptance. Kat took a deep breath. “This is a long story, and it involves the two of us, but I need a fucking drink for this.”

She walked away from me, heading for the kitchen. Giving a groan, I followed behind, trying not to stomp my feet like a petulant child, and failing miserably.

“God, Kat just speak plainly.” She ignored me and ruffled through cabinets and the pantry before she finally pulled out an old bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “ I don’t have time for the riddles.”

“Look, you’ll need this shot when we’re done here.” She poured out two fingers in each glass and slid one across the counter. It sloshed as it came to a halt at the end of the counter, close to me.

“I think I am good. Talk.”

“Your choice.” She shrugged and threw back the shot. Grimacing and shivering from the taste, she took a steadying breath.

“The Morrigan spent her entire mortal existence facing the reality of death,” she began, her voice solemn and echoing through the quiet room. “She came up with a solution, and it was us.”

She paused for effect, but I waited. I had asked enough times already and I was done playing games. So, I continued to eye her expectantly.

“Dolores was never our mother, Nathalie.”

Now I understood why she’d paused.

“The fuck? Not that I am sad about this, but how could she not be our mother? Who is?” Horror overtook me as I had another, disturbing thought. “Oh gods, is The Morrigan our real mom?”

“Gods! No,” she exclaimed, reeling back at the very thought. “No, our mother is just some no-name witch.”

“Bloodlines are everything in our family. Dad fathering children with someone they’d consider a random nobody doesn’t sound like something Dolores would be okay with.”

She snorted. “As if she had a choice. Our matrilineal line is through our birth mother, but our magic line isn’t. Morgan Le Fay needed the perfect vessel—a Le Fay vessel. So, one blood sacrifice later combining her magic with our father’s, and here we are.”

“Why?” I managed to ask. “What’s the purpose of this?”

“Like I said, our bodies can die, but our soul can be immortal. Her spirit can just keep getting passed on to the next Le Fay in line when one dies.” Kat gestured to Carissa. “Morgan Le Fay left Carissa and went into your friend Sasha. But that’s a temporary stop.”

“Was Carissa . . . made? Like us?” I asked, the shock and hesitation leaking into my voice.

Kat nodded. “Her too, amongst others.”

I inhaled, long and deep, trying to absorb what my sister was telling me. “How long has she been doing this?”

She poured another shot into her glass, tilting it back and swallowing before she spoke again. “It’s no secret she’s old as dirt. She’s been trying to find a way to become immortal, and she’s been doing that for centuries. She finds temporary solutions in the vessels she creates, but none of them can hold and match her magic.”

“So she, what? Takes the body and then . . .” As I paused, the pieces clicked together in my head, thinking about the string of dead in New Chicago that fit the bill. “She drains them of their magic, doesn’t she?”

Kat pressed her lips together and inclined her head. “That about sums it up. When they’re sucked dry, she moves on to the next vessel.”

“How many?”

“Vessels?” Kat asked, and I nodded. “Countless. And she’s killed them all.”

My mind was absolutely reeling. I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me.

“I’ll take that drink now,” I said hoarsely, reaching for the whiskey she’d poured.

“Thought you’d change your mind.”

I slammed it back in one gulp, feeling the burn splinter through my chest, grounding me in reality as more questions ran through my mind.

“Now that she’s done with Carissa . . . what now?”

“All spells—even blood sacrifices—have rules. Birth order is one of them. I’m next.”

“Kat, we have to get you somewhere safe. We have to?—”

“She won’t stop at me, Nat. It’s not me she truly wants.” Kat peered at me with heavy eyes as the realization dawned on me.

“The perfect vessel,” I said, horror-stricken. “My magic. Morgan needs my magic doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, Nat, you’re the end goal.” She looked at me with pity. “She needed a vessel with chaos magic. None of us knew it was you until after the ritual with Lucifer. No one knew you were chaos. That pushed her into action.”

I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of anger and fear. “And you couldn’t have told me this, I don’t know, forever ago? Before she landed on my doorstep in my friend’s body, maybe? Or, I don’t know, before Carissa died too?”

“Say something to do what? End my own life prematurely for revealing family secrets?”

“This family and their fucking secrets. They’re all dead, Kat! Who gives a shit! You could have told me about our lineage after the coven fell apart. You could have given us an actual fighting chance here,” I yelled, my hands fisting at my side.

“There is no fighting chance when it comes to Morgan Le Fay.” Kat looked down, her expression one of defeat. “The Morrigan is tied to each member of the Le Fay house. Those ties can’t be altered, especially not for us. We didn’t merely accept the tie. She helped create us.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?” I asked, my voice rising. “Just wait for her to take over our bodies? There has to be something we can do.”

“It’s a soul tie, Nat, similar to mate bonds. Nothing can undo it.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. My loci was already in a state of chaos, each one of my selves scrambling for a solution, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. I rubbed at my temples, feeling a throbbing ache settle behind my eyes. Just what I needed. I wouldn’t be able to see things clearly if it turned into a migraine.

Then, suddenly, something clicked.

See.

The Eye.

“There might be something that can,” I whispered, shifting my gaze as my thoughts raced.

“What did you think of?” Kat demanded, her brows furrowing.

I shook my head at her and kept walking for the front door. “No offense, but not only do I not trust you, there is no way I am going to give The Morrigan a chance to figure me out if she gets to you first.”

The words were harsh, but the situation called for blunt honesty.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Look, I have to go. Stay safe and out of the way,” I told her firmly.

“If The Morrigan wants me, she’ll find me,” Kat replied, her tone flat and resigned. There was no hint of self-pity, just a stark acceptance of the reality we faced.

“Then I will have to fix this quickly, won’t I?” I sighed as I stopped at the door, pulling it open. “Just . . . don’t do anything rash until then. I will handle this. I promise.”

She didn’t respond, only giving me a nod that conveyed a lack of faith in my vow. It stung, but I couldn’t blame her. We were in this mess partly because of our family’s secrets—secrets Kat had kept, thinking she was protecting us. I felt a mixture of frustration and sadness as my sister placed a hand on my shoulder, a silent farewell, before retreating back into the house.

As I turned to leave, a pang of sympathy struck me. Despite everything, she was still my twin, my psychic bondmate, and in this moment, she was just as trapped in this nightmare as I was. And she was next to die.