Craft

Prologue

Jett Blackstone-

I couldn't understand it. After staring at him for hours, it was easy to see he was still cagey and restless. It boggled my mind to watch him fight the constant struggle against a basic desire instead of just giving in and taking what he really wanted—what he needed. Blood. What kind of demon nut job was Vance Mangum anyway? Why did he even want to fight the power that thrummed through his veins? I certainly wouldn't.

My mind drifted to my parents, now literally lost to me in another time. Sifting through my magical memories, I could easily envision the many times I’d begged them to turn me into a demon warlock. The very thing Vance hated and despised about himself, I craved. I wanted that boost of adrenaline as the very essence of my magic flowed through me stronger than ever before.

It wasn't because I wasn't powerful. I had plenty of skills that suited me just fine. But Vance? Even from this distance, I could feel the heat of his magic. He was different from before. I hadn't sensed anything odd about him while we were in Salem, but now we were in ancient Ireland. Vance's wife, Portia, had been possessed by a ghost and kidnapped, and he was hungry—hungry like some ferocious, wild beast who hadn’t fed in days. Power radiated off him so strongly that I didn’t know how I could’ve missed it before.

Glancing around, my gaze paused on where Kenna was sitting on the opposite side of the creek from Vance. I didn’t need to read minds to know that she was terrified, her expression gave that away as she also watched her restless father. She was smart to keep him always in her sight. Right now, he was the enemy.

Vance had made it clear, to Seth and me, that we were to do everything in our power to keep him away from Kenna should he become aggressive—even if it meant killing him. There was one problem with his plan, though. I wasn't sure that even with our combined powers, we'd be able to stop him.

Movement across the stream caught my eye. Immediately, my attention reverted to the predator pacing back and forth on the bank. Unease filled me as I watched. Someone needed to convince him to eat soon, or he was going to flip out and most likely kill us all.

I might be a cocky bastard most of the time, but I wasn’t stupid, either.

Vance Mangum was lethal.

1

Kenna Mangum-

Red eyes stared at me from beneath the tree, and I could feel the hunter watching my every move. It had been more than twenty-four hours since he'd fed. Twenty-four hours since we'd been lost in this new time. Twenty-four hours since my mom was possessed and made a time jump that pulled everyone in our circle of protection with her. Twenty-four hours, and we still had no answers for what had happened to us. But regardless of the time, I knew we had a bigger problem right now.

My dad needed to feed. The hunter in him was stalking us. He kept his distance as he tried to protect us from the bloodlust rising inside him—bloodlust that wanted to feed on our pure, untainted magical blood. We were like sitting ducks, just waiting for the predator we could all see to pounce. I knew the situation was desperate. He couldn't hold out safely for much longer.

Carefully, I probed his mind, testing the mental connection between us, but the walls were firmly in place, even though I could feel his hot stare practically burning into me.

Dad? I questioned, hoping he would open the uncommon mental link we shared. Please. Let me help you. You can’t go on like this.

Frustrated emotions projected from him toward me.

Any luck? Kyle asked, coming to my side and casting a glance at my father, before bending to take a drink from the full running stream. We'd set up a camp of sorts, using magic to provide ourselves with some minor needs. I'd started a fire, and Seth had managed to manifest a tent from somewhere, which was really just a glorified description for a large piece of homespun cloth. It made for a very crude tent compared to what we were used to. We literally had no idea where to go from here. Still, none of that was going to matter if we couldn't convince my dad to feed on one of us before the bloodlust made him lose his mind completely.

I turned my attention back to Kyle. Nothing. I can feel his hunger, though. He gets more ravenous by the hour. I don’t know how he expects to fight it without feeding. I’m afraid if he goes too long, he’ll become even more dangerous. He could attack. I sensed the hunter growing stronger in him.

He’s been drinking synthetic blood for years. I know he’s afraid the real stuff will bring out the horrible bloodlust in him again, Kyle said, wiping his hands dry on his pants. He doesn’t want to go back to that.

I know. But if he doesn’t drink at all, he will become a raving monster. I’m willing to feed him. I know he would never hurt me.

Kyle shook his head. He’d never do it. He’d rather die first.

I snorted. It wouldn’t do him any good. He’d just come back to life and continue whatever killing spree he started.

Hmm. There is that. Kyle appeared to ponder things, glancing over to where Seth and Jett were busy with their magic.

Once Kyle had taken over watching me like I was a baby, the two had started trying to make our hideout a little more secure. They were busy growing vines and setting wards around the perimeter in the hopes that it would keep attention away from us for the time being. We were pretty deep into the woods, without any close neighbors, but that didn't mean someone couldn't stumble upon us.

I knew Jett had ulterior motives for the suggestion, though. He was trying to make a place where he could defend me, should it be needed. I wasn’t the helpless, defenseless, little girl everyone obviously thought I was. I knew this killer. He had trained me—had taught me all his tricks—precisely for this reason. He knew I had to survive him.

Jett had dropped the glamour he previously used to make us appear as natives of Ireland. Now we just looked like a group of ordinary people, horribly out of place and time—which was exactly what we were. Grandma and Hex were busy preparing some food; a poor unfortunate rabbit was roasting on a stick. Seth had grown us some plants with mature vegetables on them. So, we weren't going to starve. Still, there was a feeling of desperate hopelessness settling over the camp. We all knew things were about as bad as they could get, and we had no idea where to look or turn for help.

Kyle shook his head. I think we've let Vance sulk long enough. It's obvious another solution isn't going to present itself. I'm pretty certain we aren't going to find any kind of scientific lab or ingredients for me to develop a new serum out here in the middle of nowhere. I can't use magic for those things because they haven't been invented yet. We're just going to have to do this the regular way.

Before I could reply, Kyle stood and waded across the creek, slowly making his way toward my dad, approaching cautiously, as if to help keep him calm.

Vance? he spoke, a question in his voice.

Keep your distance, Kyle. I mean it. My father’s harsh tone carried through the woods. I’m not feeling very responsible right now.

Kyle didn’t slow, continuing to move forward. I know you aren’t. I know you’re worried about Portia and hurting Kenna. So let me help you ease those fears. Extending his wrist, he used his powers to slice the skin open. Immediately, his warm, magical laden blood began welling from the wound. Drink.

My dad stared hungrily at him, hesitantly licking his lips before glancing over at me.

Do it, Dad, I said mentally. Let us help you. There's no other choice right now, and we need you strong and your mind clear to find mom. Please, drink.

Wavering only a moment, the red of his eyes flared even brighter, and I knew then his decision had been made. Grabbing Kyle's offered wrist, he lowered his mouth, his face slipping into the demon characteristics I'd rarely been allowed to see throughout my lifetime. Despite how his features became distorted, his brow furrowing as threads of black and gray shot out across his veins, it never stopped fascinating me. I knew enough, from gleaning bits and pieces of his life when his guard was down, to see that he really suffered from this affliction, yet at the same time, it was hard to deny the power the demon part of him held. I continued watching as his teeth lengthened, fangs appearing, and he bit hard into Kyle's wrist. Kyle didn't make a sound, standing stoically still, but closed his eyes as my dad drew heavily.

Kyle grimaced. Still, he didn't try to pull away, allowing my dad to continue to, making my nerves ratchet up with every single second that passed. If my dad didn't stop soon, he would take too much, leaving Kyle weak and depleted—if not dead.

Waiting longer than I felt was prudent, I couldn’t stop my warning. That’s enough, Dad! I said louder, but he was already lost in the experience. Dad! I shouted into his head, right at the same time a burst of power came from another direction, slamming into Kyle and him. Blasted apart, my dad was flung against the trunk of a tree, and Kyle was catapulted into the water.

As I moved forward, a firm hand gripped my shoulder, and I found Seth restraining me, giving a slight shake of his head. Behind him, Jett was staring at the scene across the creek, his hand still outstretched, marking him as the person who’d thrown the magic.

Before I could protest, Hex quickly used his jinn powers to pop over and retrieved Kyle, evaporating with him and reappearing next to the fire. Grandma joined them, setting about giving Kyle some water, as well as some of the herbs Seth had grown, at her request, for precisely this reason.

A quick look at my dad showed he’d risen to his feet. Despite the blood he’d consumed, his face was still etched with horror and worry. With a determined scowl, he glanced around at each of us before disappearing in a pop, using the jinn powers he’d assimilated from my mom.

Should you follow him? I asked Hex, knowing he was the only other person with the same magic, besides my mom, who could do so.

My step-great-grandpa suddenly looked older than I’d ever noticed. He had more wrinkles on his face, and was he hunching over a bit? To my surprise, Hex shook his head. Give him some time alone, child, he said, his Haitian accent coming through. Let him come back to grips with what he really is. He needs to work this out for himself.

He’s going to need more blood. Magical blood. Every day, I reminded.

We’ll do the best we can to feed him by rotating amongst ourselves, Grandma Milly spoke. It’s the only choice we have.

Except for Kenna. Seth stepped forward. He can’t drink from Kenna.

Why not? I asked indignantly. He’s my dad. I want to help him.

He can’t, Jett said, surprising me. He’s already spoken to me about it and asked Seth and me to keep you away from him.

What? Why? Indignation rose inside. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I help him?

Your blood smells too much like your mom’s. He’s afraid he will kill you if he gets a taste of it. He told us the magic in her blood called to him like no other.

I don’t care. I want to help my dad.

Well, I do care, Jett replied firmly. And I plan on keeping my word to him. He will not be drinking from you.

Sighing in frustration, I walked away. This was all so stupid, not to mention that I felt entirely to blame. If I had quit worrying about how my dad would take things and told him there was a ghost in our house and that strange things were happening, he could've helped, or maybe even stopped it.

Now we were all stuck in some ancient era of Ireland. None of us knew how to survive here, and even though we had magic, we were still bound to the laws of this time. We couldn't conjure up anything that didn't exist yet because it would put the world out of order. We needed to do our best to find my mom and rescue her without upsetting the natural timeline of history.

Frankly, it made my head hurt just thinking about it.

Dinner was a sullen affair. Basically, all of us sat around the fire, eating as we stared into the flames—except for Kyle. He rested on a pallet of conjured furs, sleeping, his skin pale as his body tried to regenerate the blood he'd lost. I hoped it wouldn't take him too long to recover.

Once the food was gone, everyone silently moved about, tidying things in our camp, before turning into bed. My thoughts frequently drifted to my dad, and I tried to send him mental apologies. I was pretty sure he was too far away to hear me since I couldn't sense his presence.

The moon was high in the sky, a bright dot of light against the fabric material of the tent. We were all lying on pallets of fur, and while it was reasonably comfortable, I was unable to sleep.

So many things were racing through my mind. I hadn't had time to become accustomed to the feel of Jett's and Seth's powers combined with mine, something that promised to be a whole basket of tangled worms unto itself. How had I managed to screw everything up so badly? Frustration rolled through me, and I wondered if everyone was upset with my failure to disclose the fact that Dee Dee had been haunting our house. Seriously though, how was I supposed to know something like this could happen? I didn't even know it was in the realm of possibilities.

A comforting feeling suddenly came over me, and a soft sigh of relief escaped when I realized I sensed my dad again. He was back. He wasn’t in the camp, but lurking around the perimeter and wards that had been created. He wasn't hunting us, though. He was guarding us.

Quietly, I tossed my furs off and stood, easing my way out from in between where Seth and Jett both slept soundly on either side of me. Slipping out of the tent, I glanced at the bright moon before moving in the direction of my father.

Stop right there, Kenna. I mean it. Remember how I trained you. His voice filtered harshly into my head.

I stopped, as he asked me to, but irritation filled my being. You're my dad. You've protected me all these years. I'm not afraid of you, and I want to help, I replied in the same fashion.

Kenna, I love you. You can help me best by keeping your distance right now. Please. His tone held a hint of desperation, and his pulse rate picked up. My presence was difficult for him. I could feel his internal struggle.

If I promise to go back to bed, will you at least talk with me? I’m scared, Dad.

There was a beat of silence before he replied. Yes.

Turning, I kept my word, making my way into the tent and crawling back between the cozy warm furs. Did you find any traces of mom?

He sighed heavily, and I knew his answer before he said it. No. There's no sign of her. With her jinn powers, she could be anywhere. For all I know, she may not even be here—in this time, I mean.

What are we going to do? How are we going to find her? How will we get home?

I don't know, Kenna. I really don't know. There's no way for us to research something like this because the magic hasn't been written about. Even if there was something about jinn time travel, I highly doubt there would be anything here in Ireland. It is more of a Middle Eastern tradition.

Is there anywhere we can look? Any place records might have been kept? I felt as desperate as he did.

Kenna, I don't think you understand. This time we are in, if we have calculated correctly, is well before any written records and history were kept. What we know of this era is basically educated guesses based on tools and dwellings that have been unearthed over the years by archeologists. Ironically, the one person who could tell us the most about this time period is my not-so-dearly departed father.

From what you’ve told me about him, I’m pretty sure he still wouldn’t be much help to us.

Something akin to a snort escaped my dad. No, he’d devour those who weren’t useful to him, or suck their magic out. Then he would do his best to take over this world.

I’m glad you destroyed him. It was an awful thing to say about my own grandfather. Yet, the stories my dad had told of Damien Cummings painted him as a monster. He was the kind of demon warlock beast my dad was desperate not to be, even though it meant fighting all his natural instincts.

Me, too.

Silence floated between us as we each got lost in our own thoughts. I had almost dozed off when he spoke again, causing me to jump.

Kenna? What's going on between you and these two boys? We didn't get a chance to have our discussion.

I bit my lip for a moment, knowing this topic would upset him. We had a fight—or an argument, at least. I threatened to leave them both, but Jett had other plans. He had a spell ready, a spell that has bound our three powers together.

All three of you? Doesn’t he know that it will last for life? That all of you will be miserable without each other if you were to separate? Why the hell would he do something like that? I could feel him growing angrier by the second.

Dad. We have more important things to worry about right now. Nothing can be done about the binding, so we’ll have to learn to live with it. For the time being, I think it is most important to focus on keeping you healthy and finding Mom. Then we need to figure out a way to get Dee Dee out of her and hopefully discover a way home.

That successfully diverted my dad’s thoughts away from me and back to my mom. I can’t live without her, Kenna. I just can’t. She’s my world.

I know. I miss her so much. We won’t stop until we find her. You have my word. I’ll never leave your side until we’ve rescued her. My words sounded hollow even to me. I was making promises I had no idea how to keep. I love you, I added, as his grief and pain over the loss of Mom flooded my senses. For a moment, I experienced the intensity of his powerful emotions for her.

Get some sleep, he said gruffly, knowing he was revealing more to me than he wanted. Immediately the mental walls between us were restored, and I was effectively locked out of his head. I knew he wouldn't lower them again.

Still, his pain radiated and echoed through me, crushing my heart with unbearable agony. Not only did my dad feel like he was dying physically, he felt like he was dying inside, too.

I will not rest until I make this right again, I silently vowed. I was angry that my selfishness and wanting to have a normal life had brought this turn of events upon us. Because of me, my family was suffering. I had to fix this.

It was a long time before sleep finally claimed me.

2

Kenna-

Kenna! Wake the others! I sense another fresh blooded witch approaching, my dad's voice rang into my head. My eyes popped open, taking in the fact that it was a bit lighter, suggesting sunrise was near. Blinking rapidly, it took several seconds for the meaning of his urgent words to sink in. Tossing my furs back, I reached over and shook Jett.

Jett! I called out in a harsh whisper before turning and doing the same thing to Seth. Seth!

What’s the matter? Grandma Milly asked, propping up on one of her elbows as Hex did the same beside her.

Dad says he senses a witch approaching. I glanced at Jett, who was yawning. He needs a glamour to disguise himself, and he doesn't speak Gaelic.

Jett immediately rose from his pallet. Where is he?

Outside the perimeter Seth created. He came back last night and has been standing guard over us.

Jett snorted. Why? So he can just kill us later, himself?

Enough,