Listen

Warnings

Triggers: Please note this book is meant for adult audiences. It contains sexual content, kidnapping, attempted murder, graphic violence, brief accounts of torture.

Spoilers: This is the fourth novel in a larger series universe, following one overarching timeline. I’ve done my best to include appropriate backstory when necessary, but it is advised to follow the reading order as indicated below.

The Earthen Witch Chronicles

by Sarah Doughty

Just Breathe

Focus

Home

Listen

Safe

Stronger Than Blood

Enduring The Flames

Zoe*

Dream Spell**

*a prequel novella

**a standalone novella

For May Timani, for being a cherished friend since the beginning.

I wish your life to be fulfilled with joy.

And plenty of cats to call your own.

The earth has music for those who listen.

– William Shakespeare

The quieter you become, the more you can hear.

– Ram Dass

Listen once in a while. It's amazing what you can hear.

– Russell Baker

I just needed to

stop and listen

to what was happening

from within and let it

be my guide

– Aisling Green

Chapter 1

I took a deep breath, choking back the whimper from the sudden, intense pain in my jaw as I tasted blood on my tongue.

Despite how it looked, I didn't like violence. I never did.

Maybe that was because of my circumstances growing up. Maybe it just wasn't in me. Either way, it was the last thing I wanted to do.

My first instinct was always to calm the situation, to diffuse it before escalation. Not everyone shared the same sentiment. And I learned to adapt to my environment. But that didn't mean I needed to like it.

As much as I wanted to say otherwise, we were at war. The supernatural world was in a constant battle against opposition. The enemy was never the same. It could be humans one day, and then others — those like us, the supernatural beings — the next. Or it could be something different.

The war itself boiled down to the right to live. Some believed that we didn't have that right. That we — others — should die. Some were after power and would kill anything that stood in their way. Or, some preferred to kill and take power.

My entire life, and since I turned twenty-one, I saw how much hatred and greed for power ran through people. I lost count of the number of times attempts were taken to kill me. And yet, there I was, deep in the underbelly of a centuries-old vampire's opulent home, sparring with another vampire.

All in an effort to protect myself against my real enemies.

And it went against everything I stood for to willingly inflict damage on another living thing — undead included. Even while sparring, I couldn't hold back. Because my enemies wouldn't offer the same courtesy.

Come on, Greenie, Tobias grinned with his fangs in full view as he hopped back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for me to make the next move.

God, but I took the bait anyway.

Stop calling me that, I gritted, but smirked, despite myself.

Chuckling, he said, Oh, come on. You're not going to be Aisling Green much longer. So I need to use this time to my advantage while I come up with a new name.

His fist shot out at a blinding speed, but I was faster and blocked it with my forearm before he could connect with my eye. It still hurt like a bitch. And I hissed as pain reverberated through my arm.

I was so tired of the war. As a victim of childhood abuse, countless attempts to steal my magic by more than one person, and poisoned in the name of revenge upon someone else, I was a popular target.

But that list didn't end there.

I was knocked out, kidnapped, tortured, drugged with something no one knew existed. One that shouldn't affect others. My dreams were hijacked and my body was controlled by a demon while I slept. Sure, I might have killed him and saved the world, but that didn't stop anyone else from coming after me.

Others were powerful. But they weren't the only ones that were more than human.

Less than three months before, I was a typical college graduate. I didn't know supernaturals existed outside of fiction.

So much had changed since. Yet I didn't regret a second of it. Despite all the bad, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Why?

Before I turned twenty-one, my only family was my grandmother and my best friend. After my grandmother told me what I was, she died. She never explained anything to me about supernaturals beyond our witch heritage and how a faint glow surrounding people meant they were other or that certain things touched by magic would glow too. I didn't know it at the time, but those were auras.

Not long after, I met Zoe Kavanaugh, someone I only knew was other because of the black glow that surrounded her. She was beautiful, nice, and intriguing with that Australian accent. There were also things that weren't right about her. I didn't understand that black meant she was a dark witch. Dangerous.

By the time I realized the threat, it was too late.

I would have died if it wasn't for Connor Jennings, a light witch. The man that came to my rescue and saved my life. In addition to saving me, the color of his aura was different than Zoe's, and I felt something, deep down, that told me I could trust him.

He agreed to help because I was clueless. I thought I was a witch like my grandmother said. But we quickly realized that wasn't the case.

I was Earthen.

Earthen witches were once royalty in the supernatural community. Because they were the most powerful of all others. Powerful enough to protect their world against humans and anyone that would disrupt the peace.

They were killed in the seventeenth century and the community collapsed into chaos. Others made deals with humans to save themselves from annihilation, or they left a trail of dead in an effort to reign supreme.

Earthens were thought to be extinct, but I was living proof that wasn't true — they were just dormant.

Connor and I were in love within days and met people that we began to trust. We found allies in unlikely places. One of which was an old master vampire and his nest — a safe, group home for his people and trusted allies. And it was in that vampire's basement that we trained for battle.

The world was still unstable for others, but we were determined to set it right.

I was determined.

No one deserved to live like that, away from their families and their own kind out of fear of discovery and death.

For a while, I was the only one that could give that to them.

But Connor wasn't just my fiancé. He was my supernatural equivalent of a soulmate — my mate. And he was supposed to be an Earthen, but as fate would have it, he became a witch before he could transition.

When we bound together — an intense supernatural marriage that permanently connected two souls together — in preparation to fight the demon set on destroying the world, it triggered him to turn.

He was mine and he was Earthen.

Yet he was still trying to learn how to utilize his new powers. Despite learning more every day, he was still limited, and I could see the frustration on his face as he watched me from the edge of the mat with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

I knew why he was upset.

There were two ways Connor and I could spar the way we could without worrying about how long it would take for our injuries to heal. First, an Earthen could use magic to speed up the healing process to a matter of seconds. Or Liam, the master vampire we trusted, was the only vampire we knew that could offer his blood's healing effects to an Earthen with the same swiftness. It was a result of a spell cast by one of the old Earthens before they were killed. Without that spell, vampire blood was poisonous, even deadly to someone like me.

But there was one small problem. I could heal my mate or anyone else, but not myself. And to my knowledge, a spell like that didn’t exist.

Where the hell is Liam? I asked for the third time. I haven't seen him since Sunday.

It was Wednesday.

Without Liam, Connor was my only option to heal from sparring. Which meant accessing his magic. And since he was still trying to accomplish that, I could guess what he was thinking with his sulking posture and that angry green and sad, dark blue aura shimmering around him.

Not only were auras useful in determining if someone was other, but the color also reflected the current emotion of the creature it surrounded or the type of magic used on an object — light or dark. Humans didn't see them. And they didn't emit them.

But not everyone without an aura was pure human. There were other creatures. Despite being considered other, the undead — vampires and ghouls — were aura free, since they weren't technically alive, but they could see them. A select few supernaturals outside of the undead didn't have them, either. We didn't know why.

With my growing list of injuries sustained on that mat with Tobias, and without Liam waiting to heal me with his special, spelled blood, it meant that unless Connor could access his new magic to heal me, I would have to heal on my own. And he didn't like that at all.

Tobias stopped bouncing on his feet and stood at his full six-foot-three height. His grin faded as his fangs receded. With his hair sticking out in random places, and goatee fading in with the rest of the stubble on his face, along with the same matching black tank top and loose-fitting pants most of the men wore during training, he was almost unrecognizable.

Unfortunately for me, I wasn't provided the same outfit. With my athletic, yet curvy five-and-a-half foot frame, I wore matching black volleyball shorts that were too short for my taste — which I planned to replace with yoga pants at my first opportunity — and a tank top with a built-in sport bra. My long, curly brunette hair was unruly even in the loose bun at the back of my head, and my peaches-and-cream complexion probably looked red and splotchy from all the fighting.

The vampire standing in front of me was Liam's third-in-command — and one of the people I trusted with my life. He was also the vampire in charge, since Jon, Liam's second, was gone as well. I don't know, Aisling, the vampire sighed and glanced at my mate. It's time to stop training for today since Connor can't heal you.

No. I want to keep going, I said with a quick punch to the vampire's jaw.

Chapter 2

Tobias's head snapped to the side with the force of my fist colliding with his jaw and he turned his head back toward me in a slow motion. He glared at me and his brilliant blue eyes flashed against the harsh overhead lights. Just like a cat's eyes, which was one of the few indicators that he was undead.

Though Liam's power, age, and immense supernatural knowledge that went beyond a vault of lore earned him the status of a master vampire, the leader of his vast network of nests, everyone knew who was in charge, despite his chain of command.

Me.

It was part of the package of being the first Earthen in centuries. I outranked all of them.

I didn't necessarily enjoy it, but when it was needed, it came to my advantage.

Training was essential for survival. It helped prepare us and saved our lives more than once. I wasn't going to stop just because I couldn't heal a few bruises or cuts.

They might not agree, but when I pulled rank, they listened.

As Tobias's jaw clenched, his eyes searching mine, I felt Connor approach me from behind.

That was one of the perks of being fated to be together. Of being mates. From the first day Connor came to town, we felt each other like magnets. And that pull would never fade.

The closer he was, the stronger the sensation. If he was gone and I wanted to find him, I could follow his pull until I reached him. We didn't share that connection with anyone else.

Aisling, Connor said, low. Tobias looked away and I turned around to face my fiancé. I know how important training is, but you could get hurt fighting and you know it.

Green swirled in his aura, which meant he was angry. But I didn't think his anger was directed at me. If I knew him as well as I thought, he was angrier with himself that he couldn't heal me. On the other hand, the green could also indicate his indecision. He knew the necessity of sparring. The necessity for survival.

I watched him for a moment, taking him in. Deep brown eyes searched mine, sending shivers down my spine. His long, straight brown hair curtained around his face and covered the back of his neck.

He stood there, half a foot taller than me at six feet and my eyes dropped, glided over the stubble on his jaw, and settled on his rounded lower lip. I licked mine reflexively. Pink bled into the edges of his aura, indicating his desire, but he crossed his strong arms in front of his chest again.

The muscles beneath his velvet skin were visible since he was wearing the same fitted black tank top and loose pants most of the men used for training.

God, but he was mouthwatering.

There was nothing about him I didn't like.

Everything about him called to me in a way nothing ever could.

And he was mine.

I grinned devilishly at him and the corners of his mouth lifted in response. But then I let my grin fade. Shouldn't we prepare for all situations?

We've been in this situation before. When we were tortured in Germany. You spent two days in pain while we waited for Liam.

I know, but here, the worst that could happen is some bruises and scrapes. The Kramer Scholars did much worse than that.

The Kramer Scholars were the first and most devout group of supernatural hunters known as the Malleus Dei Maleficarum — the Hammer of God Against Witches. They were headquartered in Germany, where Heinrich Kramer started his crusade against supernaturals in the mid-fifteenth century.

Due to his extensive knowledge of witches, he was recruited by the Catholic Church. He was tasked with writing a book to help them fight against witches, which the Church considered to be demons. But his recommended method of the inquisition wasn't something they expected. And it forced the Church to denounce him.

Kramer anticipated the Church's action and wrote a second book of the same title, Malleus Maleficarum. It was filled with information about how to discover and destroy more than just witches. It covered all others. And there were plenty of humans that still followed him, with that book at hand as their bible in groups all over the world.

While the other groups of the MDM evolved with time, the KS did not. They still tortured and killed without question. They didn't bother to verify if someone was other before they struck. Though we were at a stalemate with the MDM — Kramer Scholars included — the war with them wasn't over.

I know that, I went on. But I didn't fight while I was injured. Technically that was true. It was the demon that played my body like a puppet, despite my injuries from torture, forcing me to fight and kill six Scholars in a Berlin alley. Based on the pain I felt from that alone, I could barely walk, let alone fight. And it's not as though I don't already know how to deal with this kind of pain.

Connor's jaw clenched as he regarded me, remembering what I told him about my childhood.

I sighed. How about this? You and I fight together against one of them, and if I'm hurt, we'll see how well I can fight through the pain. Test my limits. If I'm hurt enough, we'll stop. Deal?

Only if someone agrees to fight us, he said and his eyes flickered over my head to Tobias.

I turned to look at the vampire in question.

He grinned at me and raised his hands in surrender. Oh no, I'm not doing that. Connor looks like he's about to murder me with his eyes.

I snorted and looked back at my mate. Oh, so we're going to play it like that are we?

Two can play at this game, mister.

Connor grinned back at me and his aura shifted to light blue with his humor, but he didn't respond.

Alright then, I said louder, despite knowing everyone could already hear us — with the exception of the nest's willing humans that either watched or trained throughout the large room. "So who has the balls to step up and fight us, huh? Are you going to bow out like a coward?" I bit my cheek to keep from laughing as my lips twitched. Though I was still looking into Connor's eyes, the last comment was directed at the vampire that refused to continue fighting.

Hey now, that hurts me, Tobias said from the bench to my right, and I caught him clutching his chest with a pale hand as if he was wounded, but he made no move to return to his place on the mat.

Connor's lips twitched in response as his eyebrow lifted in triumph.

I'll do it, Jorge's baritone southern drawl sounded from the knife-throwing section of the training room.

The space was massive, about three stories tall and lit by fluorescents. There were sparring sections, weight training, weapons training, and even a moving obstacle course in the middle of the room that only someone with the speed and agility of the undead could conquer.

As Jorge approached, Connor turned to glare at him and the ghoul's deep brown eyes flashed as he grinned back in response.

He was the same height as Connor, but the similarities in physique ended there. Most of the undead in Liam's nest were highly trained and skilled warriors while they were alive. Jorge was no different.

While he was all muscle that rippled with every move he made, he was graceful. Transitioning from vampire to ghoul didn't change him. Except his required nourishment shifted from blood to fresh meat. And his fangs were gone.

Connor was strong and could carry my weight with ease, but his muscles weren't obvious like they were on Jorge. They were there, beneath his velvet skin, and he was sexier than anything I ever saw before.

The ghoul stepped onto the mat, scrubbing his hand over his bearded jaw. Ready to play?

Connor took a quick, heated glance at me that traveled down my body in a shiver. A glance that promised retribution later as he turned to Jorge and moved into position, pink still playing at the edges of his aura.

Heat erupted across my body and my mouth went dry as I forced myself to look away from him and face our opponent.

Jorge nodded toward me and said, Aisling, just like he did the first time we met. As if we were saying hello while out for the morning paper.

I moved into position and the ghoul was a blur of motion, his dark head speeding to the right toward Connor and landing a punch to his stomach before moving toward me.

Ducking just as fast, I heard a whoosh of air as the ghoul's fist sailed above me, right where my face was an instant before. I spun, kicking my leg out, and knocked the feet out from beneath him.

He was on his feet in a flash, but Connor was already there and landed a punch to his jaw, followed by an immediate knee to the side.

Jorge grunted but didn't slow down. Then his fist connected with my mate's side in response, forcing Connor to step back.

Just as I was about to lunge forward with a feigned attack to his face to land a blow to his midsection instead, a wave of nausea washed over me.

And then I realized I wasn't seeing out of my eyes any longer.

Chapter 3

I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but nothing changed. There were shapes, but they were so clouded I couldn't make out what they were.

It was like looking through fog.

But just as quickly as the sight started, I blinked and I was back. There was just enough time to see Jorge's fist collide with my face.

And then everything went black.

I didn't know how long I was out, but I could hear Connor's muffled voice as if it were traveling through a tunnel filled with water.

By the time I came around again, I felt a tingle on my cheeks and realized Connor was attempting to heal me with his magic. I opened my eyes to see him as he struggled with his eyes closed tight.

He let out his breath and opened his eyes. His lips thinned as an angry green filled his aura and a grim resignation resonated in his features. His attempt to heal me failed. Again.

Traditional witches used moon magic, which required the use of spells. Chanting and often a few ingredients or elements were needed to make spells work. But as Earthens, we used the magic of the earth and the moon.

All we needed was will — that deep desire to see something happen — which was fueled by emotion.

And god, but did we have a lot of it.

We required heightened emotions to allow our power to work.

The same principle applied when using electricity to power a light bulb. If there wasn’t enough electricity, it either wouldn’t work, or the light would be dim.

I knew Connor's emotions were as powerful as mine, and he felt the will to heal me. But despite it, his magic wasn't working. Just another question with no answer.

While Liam wasn't around to ask, we tried to look it up in the vault — both a physical and digital collection of lore on others — maintained by my best friend in Liam’s second-floor library. Even with everything we learned up to that point, the information on Earthens was limited.

My face hurt like hell. But I would survive.

I lifted my hands and touched Connor's cheeks. The stubble tickled against my skin and it felt just as good as it always did. It's okay. I'll be fine. A faint smile spread on my lips before I let go of him and tried to sit up.

His hands moved to my shoulders to help as another wave of nausea washed over me and I closed my eyes in an attempt to catch my equilibrium.

Are you alright? my fiancé asked with concern in his voice.

Yeah, I breathed. Just a little dizzy. I finished in a stronger voice.

Can you stand?

I think so.

He helped me to my feet, but the green in his aura didn't fade. Dark blue started to mix in at the edges and I pulled him into my arms before I was steady.

Supporting my weight with ease, he hugged me back in a fierce embrace, dipping his head to the curve of my shoulder to inhale my scent.

Connor smelled of wood smoke, a scent I always loved, and I breathed him in, filling my nose with him. I relaxed in the next instant. Though he didn't say anything, I knew what he was thinking.

If we were in a real fight, I could have died, and he wouldn't have been able to help me.

It's okay. I'm fine.

He sighed, You don't understand, Aisling.

Yes, I do. I know what this means, and I know it's scary, but I'm okay. And we will figure it out. I meant to stop there, but I kept babbling. I'm sorry I pushed it, Connor. I shouldn't have. It was dangerous and reckless. I didn't consider how something else might distract me.

Ever since we met, Connor tried to break my habit of apologizing for things that weren't my fault. Growing up with it enforced as a method of control during abuse made it hardwired into my system. I did it without thinking.

But that time, it was warranted.

He pulled back and looked at me. What distracted you?

"Sight," I replied, letting my hands slide down his shoulders to rest on his chest.

That was one of the many traits an Earthen could possess — the ability to see through the eyes of something else. Either other or human, it didn't matter. I could do it at will, but it sometimes happened on its own.

I replayed what I saw in my mind, but couldn't figure out who it was I was seeing through. I didn't know what I saw.

One second I was here, and the next, it was like looking through fog. It was so fast I barely processed it. I came back just as Jorge hit me.

Sorry about that, the ghoul in question said from behind Connor. "If I knew you were seeing I would have stopped."

It's alright, no one knew, Connor said for me. But the muscles in his jaw were still clenching over what happened. We never considered how sight might distract me or make me vulnerable in a fight.

Because it never happened before.

Despite the limited Earthen lore, we knew that Earthens shared their power. At any given time throughout history, there were, at most, twelve across the globe. That meant that there were quite a few of them over time before they were killed.

One of the perks of being an Earthen meant that the soul of each one that ever lived before was inside me, at least in part. Sometimes they spoke for me, which was unnerving at first. Or whispered to me in my head. Offering little bits of advice when we were otherwise clueless on what to do. And I trusted them. It was in our nature to protect lives, never to take one unless necessary.

The problem was that they didn't always talk. And in that moment, I wished they would.

Ever since Germany and the torture, I knew that relying on Liam as the only vampire with the ability to heal me wasn't realistic. It took two days for him to reach us before. If he was killed, Connor was my last hope.

I didn't know how to spell a vampire's blood. And those whispering voices weren't talking.

Tobias, I said.

The vampire stepped forward. Aisling.

Would it be alright if I try to spell you? Liam isn't here and I think we need to try. I just don't know if it'll work.

Are you sure? Judging by the look on his face, he was both surprised by my request and humbled by it.

Asking Tobias to take on that ability meant that my mate and I needed to trust him with our lives. I knew Tobias would die to keep us safe.

Did Connor?

I glanced at my fiancé with the unspoken question. Without hesitation, he nodded and I looked back at the vampire's blue eyes as they flashed against the fluorescent light flooding the room. Yes, I replied.

Then yes, I'd be honored.

I stepped away from Connor and moved to Tobias. I reached up and touched his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks and the cool flesh beneath.

Without knowing what I was doing, I improvised.

As I closed my eyes and pushed magic into his skin, I willed my magic to change his blood so we could accept it and its healing effects.

When I finished, I opened my eyes. I'll need to taste it to see if it worked.

But— Connor began, but I cut him off.

Don't worry. I'll spit it out if it doesn’t work. I can taste the difference.

That much was true. Though all blood tasted coppery, Liam's was almost sweet. The first time I took his blood to ward off the effects of a spell, my body tried to purge it on instinct. But since then, I would try to catch any remaining drops that didn't make it in my mouth without realizing it.

Which was quite embarrassing.

But when a longtime friend of Liam forced his blood into my system, it held the same coppery taste, but the underlying flavor was bitter.

And when I swallowed it to keep from suffocating, I was in so much pain that I begged the universe for death.

It should have killed me. If I shared my power with eleven other Earthens, it would have.

Tobias pierced the pad of his thumb on a fang and held it out for me. I watched the blood well up like a dome and then closed my mouth over it, catching the blood with my tongue.

The cool liquid exploded in my mouth like I was zapped with a car battery. But beneath the metallic taste, it was bitter. Wrong.

I pulled back in a flash and spit the dangerous blood onto the mat, but the taste lingered. I'm sorry, I muttered and ran out of the training room toward the suite I shared with Connor as fast as I could, trying not to swallow.

Desperation didn't begin to cover the urgency I felt to clean my mouth.

Chapter 4

Not bothering to close the door behind me, I felt Connor following as I headed straight for the bathroom.

The atmosphere of our suite tended to scream desire and set us both on edge with it. The walls were a deep crimson, the floors were gleaming, gold-inlaid mahogany, and the bed was a double king-size with crimson silk sheets and a black furry blanket while the frame was a massive four-poster with intricate carvings