Black Moon by Rebecca A. Rogers

Author:Rebecca A. Rogers [Rogers, Rebecca A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Teen & Young Adult, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy, Paranormal & Urban
Amazon: B006ZFSOMA
Published: 2012-01-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“It’s not going to work,” Jana argues, concerned by the idea of Daci and me sharing the same body, but she’s not seeing the bigger picture, which might save us all.

“You don’t know that for sure,” I counter. “Besides, what choice do we have? It’s either this or we’re back at square one. Your powers aren’t as strong as the Conway’s, so my safety will continue to be an issue.”

Mom and Dad glance at each other, as do Randy and Beth, and Jana’s parents. They know I’m right about this.

“I hate to admit it, babe, but Candra has a point,” Blake tells Jana, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “We don’t stand a chance against Ancients and the Conway’s unless we have some big guns on our side.”

“And I hate to break it to ya,” I add, “but this isn’t anyone’s decision except mine. I choose this, with or without you all.”

They waver on joining me, until Dad says he’s in. Mom, too, followed by Randy and Beth. Then Blake. Jana’s parents. And, finally, Jana.

I bob my head once. “Okay, let’s do this.”

We come to the conclusion the basement is best suited for this type of activity, in case the ritual goes askew. My lovely birthday chair sits in the corner, and the windows and ceiling fixtures have been repaired since that night.

“Looks like you guys cleaned up nicely,” I tease.

Blake blows a raspberry. “Pain in the ass is more like it. I have nightmares about stepping on glass.”

“Over here,” says Beth, pointing to an area beyond where I sat during my birthday, in a secluded crook of the basement. “This should do.”

“All right. How does this work?” I ask.

They gather in a circle around me, holding hands. I feel like I was born a witch rather than a werewolf. Keep dreaming, Candra. Being a spell-caster is probably ten times easier than being a giant furbag.

“We need you to remain perfectly still,” says Beth. “And one more thing: we don’t know the effect this will have. You may be Candra in five minutes, you may be her, or you may be both.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” I mumble, limiting my emotions, which are on the brink of insanity at the moment. My future rests in the hands of my loved ones. This isn’t a simple fix; this is madness.

Beth nods to the others. Eyes shut, they begin chanting; a low hum of orchestrated voices, which rapidly ascend into flailing tongues and eerie cadences. I can’t decipher the words, or their meanings. What I do understand is the effect they establish on my physical being; sharp cuts of magic inhibit my aptitude to think rationally, my insides warp in ways they shouldn’t, and there’s a darkness that slowly fogs my mind, plaguing me.

I fight her—Daciana—with every last atom of my soul.

And she fights back.

Strange to believe a miniature war is taking place inside me. Either I win or lose, but for certain: there’s no turning back now. She has a tight grip within, but my motivation to survive is even stronger than her love for Ulric.

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