“There is no one there, and now look, she’s awake. What do we do now?” Mr. Lee whined at his mistress. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes. Perhaps he regretted doing this to Joanna after all.
Paden? Are you with me? How will I get free from these two?
As the seizure had lifted, I could no longer see the blue and white lights, the lights that had accompanied Paden earlier. But I could hear his voice in my ear. It was sad, sorrowful yet comforting. Remember what I told you. You know what the secret is, Jo. You know. Remember. It’s in your blood!
I focused on gaining some control over some part of my body, a finger, a toe, but nothing worked. No mental focus could break me out from this nightmare! But I’m not Jo! I’m Megan! Megan Pressfield, and I love you, Paden!
Paden’s advice didn’t help me at all. I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. Suddenly Mr. Lee was standing over me, the torch in his hand. I could smell the gasoline and the scorching wood. Would he burn me now? I didn’t plead with him, and I wouldn’t beg him. It would do me no good, after all.
“Can we get this over with? It must be done before morning; the servants will return soon. But not soon enough to help you, Joanna,” he said sadistically.
Stay calm, Joanna. You’re getting stronger every second. Don’t reveal anything.
I smothered a gasp of surprise. This wasn’t Paden’s voice now, nor was it my own. This was Joanna’s father. The tears fell again, but not because I was afraid to die. They fell because he was present and loved Joanna enough to return to her side at her hour of greatest need. And no matter what, whether she lived or died, he would always be with her. He’d been near her all the time. Deep grief struck me knowing that of the two of us, Joanna was loved far more than I was. I quieted as she responded to him. I still had no idea whether she knew I was here. Maybe this was all some horrible dream?
Yes, Father, but don’t leave me. Not now.
I clutched the metal object in my hand a little tighter. My legs were beginning to shake again but not from a seizure—this was fear. Pure fear.
I spoke to Joanna now as loudly as I could. That’s it! Think, Joanna. Of the two of them, Mr. Lee is the one you should worry about. He wrangles horses every day, so he’s strong. I screamed the message in my mind. Then I realized what was in my hand. I could see Vivian looking for it now—her little knife. I had it! I wasn’t quite sure how to use it, but just knowing that I had my fingers wrapped around it gave me hope. I had to stop Lee. I wasn’t sure I could escape Vivian, but she was thin and frail whereas Lee was the picture of health. He slid the torch in the sconce on the wall again and returned to my side. He waited on the right and scolded Vivian again for not completing her task.
“No more delays, Vivian. We had a deal. You get the blood, and I get my reward. Now get on with it.”
Vivian was peering into the dark and whispering her spells and incantations. Sadly, they must have had an effect on the dead who’d gathered to witness the atrocity, those who had come to help us, for I could no longer hear their voices. I didn’t think Joanna could either; she cried out to them in despair.
Vivian would return in a minute, and it would be too late. Lee leaned over me leering stupidly. I could see what his intentions were. I wanted to scream, not in fear but in anger. More quickly than I could have reckoned, I sat up from the stone altar and in one fell swoop shoved the blade into Lee’s neck. His dark eyes widened in surprise and his mouth opened but no words came out, nothing but a strange wet sound, and then he fell to the ground.
Vivian spun around to see me falling off the altar. I was on top of Lee, tugging at the knife. It didn’t want to come out, but I was desperate. So desperate! My hand was on the handle, but I wasn’t alone! Joanna was here. She was desperate to be free too!
Lee’s mouth continued to work, but I would not relent. I finally got the knife from his neck, and the blood began to savagely spurt all over me and all over the floor around him. In seconds, Lee went still, pale and still and dead.
Vivian walked over to me, but she did not light on me as I had supposed she would. She did not scream or cry or lament Lee’s death. She obviously did not care for him; he had been but a means to her end.
I rose to my feet, the knife in my hand, and faced her. Strangely enough, she smiled at me. She smiled as if she knew something I did not, and that surprised me. Yes, it was as if she’d seen this coming and welcomed it. And when she spoke, I was surprised again.
“So it’s come to this, has it? You’ve risen up to become the blood master, and yet you have no idea how to do any of it. You don’t know how to make the symbols or call upon your ancestors, not like I do. You can’t bind them or summon them. I am more of a Storm than you will ever be. I’ve drunk more Storm blood than can be contained in your body. It is not fair that you now have the knife. Give it to me. Give it to me, Joanna, and we can work together.”
“Stay back, Vivian Kemal! Stay away from me! I’m not Joanna! I am Megan Pressfield!” I stumbled over Lee’s dead body, but I did not fall. My sight was still blurry, my cuts were screaming painfully, and I was wobbly like a newborn colt. And she knew it. She smiled at me as if to say, Oh yes, I see you. I see how weak you are. You will die.
I waved the knife between us. She did not laugh at me or move to take it from me. She began to whisper her incantations, and then she giggled. “Stop it, Vivian! Stop your witchcraft, now!”
“Witchcraft? Was it witchcraft when your mother insisted on daily transfusions? Was it witchcraft when she regularly exchanged blood with me? I kept her alive, Joanna.” Did she not hear me? I told her I was Megan, not Joanna. Vivian continued to stalk closer to me. “She should have been my mother, not yours. Never yours. You were too ashamed of her. You hurt her with your disgust; she spoke of it often. You were too weak to be a Storm, so I made myself one. I took her blood and became what you could not become, a true Storm. The Storm blood is in my body because Zea gave it to me, freely. She did this because you hated her. In the end, you couldn’t even stand to look at her.”
“You lie, you evil witch! You lie!”
“Do I? You couldn’t stand to see your mother when she had her spells, and now, what bitter irony—you have the same malady. Do you think that it is a coincidence? That is no disease you have but a special ability, Joanna. With your Storm blood, you can know the future. We can see our own deaths. We can know things that others will never know. It is a power beyond your reckoning. That power was brought here to Morgan’s Rock, stone by stone; the rocks were soaked in the blood of other Storms. Others who had your ability; they called it a curse, this malady. But I see its true potential. I have spent my life studying it!”
“Yes, and look what it has done for you, Vivian! Let me through! Let me out of here!”
Suddenly Joanna rose up within me, and I realized that my fate—whatever it would be—was now in her hands. Vivian paced the other side of the altar now. I heard Joanna say, “You have always hated me. You were always jealous of everything I had, even Danny!”
She didn’t laugh, but her wicked smile disappeared. “The only thing I ever wanted was your blood. Ah, Danny. He was such a disappointment. I wish…but things were not to be. There is no one left but you and me, Joanna. Now the question is…” She licked her bloody finger and extended her hand to me. Did she think Joanna would give up the knife to her? She was sadly mistaken. Vivian could have this knife only when she pried it from Joanna’s cold, dead hands. Or mine!
I glanced down at Lee’s body, a pool of blood around his head like a wet, red halo.
“Give me the knife. I must have your blood to finish my transfusion. Just one more cut should be all it takes; that’s what my guides have told me. This is the way to do it. I must take all your blood, I’m afraid, so it will mean sure death for you. That’s unfortunate, but it is the nature of things.”
“What do you mean, Vivian?”
“I must be the only Storm left, and I will have your blood. All of it.”
With a roar of fury, she charged at me and knocked me down. Where was Joanna? It was me that Vivian wrestled with now. I held the tiny knife with both hands and to my horror saw that the blade had pierced her eye. Vivian screamed loudly, screamed until she could scream no more, but I did not help her. I ripped the knife out with all the force I could muster and stood over her panting and weeping. Then suddenly Joanna rose up again and I heard her say, “I am Joanna Storm, the only Storm at Morgan’s Rock.”
And when she said that, the torch blew out and the room went black. For a moment, I heard something. Laughter, soft and happy. It was the sound of laughter, her father’s laughter. Along with Joanna, I recalled the stories he told her about the Storm family, the bloody stones and the strange zigzag shape in which they’d been laid. Yes, he was laughing now. He appeared so handsome, his hair tousled as if the wind had been blowing it around. No mustache wax now. No suit, just his white shirt, brown vest and brown pants, which looked like what he might have worn on pyramid explorations. And somehow I knew that now he was doing what he loved. And all would be well with him forever, but Joanna’s mother? I saw her nowhere, and her father did not speak about her.
Joanna asked, “What do I do, Father? What do I do?”
Before he vanished he said, “Remember, Punchanella. Remember it all!”
And as his words settled in my mind and heart, that’s exactly what Joanna did. And so did I.
I remembered everything.
Epilogue
“Hey, Megan! Over here! Can you give us a prediction? What are you going to find in there?” This was Chris, or Chase or whatever his name was. He was always too familiar with me. Hmm…that felt far too familiar.
“Hey, Megan, please! Tell us the truth—you know something, don’t you?”
The questions kept coming, and I kept shrugging. Alex had his hand on my shoulder. I wanted to kiss him and badly, but that would have to wait. I realized I loved him, now that the spell over me was broken. I believed that somehow the love spell Vivian meant to cast over Dan also fell on me for some of the time I had been Joanna, but not anymore. I was free of her. I didn’t feel her. She didn’t summon me. I didn’t hear the Victrola play at odd hours, and the Great Room was no longer my favorite room of the house. I’d even moved my office down here to the bottom floor, next to my bedroom. I was getting so much more done now.
Alex, Micah, Loretta and I stood next to the wall, each of us with a sledgehammer in our hands. All the electrical wires had been removed, and we could safely take the wall down without worry. I guess in a way, it was kind of a publicity stunt. But it was also going to bring me closure in ways most of these photo hounds would never understand. This was for me. Alex looked down at me and kissed my forehead. I loved him a hundred percent. How could I not? He loved me, broken, silly, not-always-together me. I wasn’t Joanna Storm, and he wasn’t Paden Kincaid. Our love was real, and we were going to work at it to make it even better. Micah was a friend, but that was all he would ever be. A friend.
“On the count of three, let’s get started. Cameras ready?” the director called out to his small crew.
“One, two, three,” we chanted along with him and then began tearing at the wood. Immediately, it began to crumble and I saw that I’d been right. There had been a hidden room there, a large one with a long corridor that led to room after room. I knew then that I was looking at the Hall of Shadows. This was what Joanna’s father meant when he told her—told me—to remember.
There had been a Hall of Shadows in Egypt, beneath KV 119, that’s in the Valley of the Kings. The Storms had read the name Hall of Shadows in the cartouche over the door. It was a magic room, a room used for the preparation of the dead. These stones, the ones reported to come from some ancient Kent castle belonging to the Storm family, were actually sandstone blocks that had been stolen from the original Hall of Shadows. Clearly this was something Mr. Storm now regretted.
The symbols on the wall, these were the same, only changed slightly by Vivian to hide their true meaning, but I could read them perfectly now. The symbols painted on the wall were clear enough for me to know that they read: “Hall of Shadows.”
We tore down the wall, and the cameras and video recorders began exploring the darkness. I knew what they would find. Not Joanna’s body as some hoped, as even I’d believed for a time, but the bodies of Vivian Kemal and Mr. Lee.
And when the deed was done, Albert Robbins, a once-faithful servant of the late Mr. Storm, had helped Joanna erect this wall. Then Joanna left this place and never returned again, defeating the ancient magic that destroyed her family.
Surprisingly enough, she died an old woman in Egypt. I’d uncovered these details with Micah’s help, and now the mystery was solved. Joanna Storm had escaped the dark destiny that others wanted for her. In Egypt she was known far and wide for her seizures, which to the locals were a sign of special favor and divinity. Joanna never married again, but I knew she had been happy. I explored the dirty room and spoke to the camera, doing exactly what I should do, but it was all for show.
Yes, I knew Joanna Storm wasn’t here. She had escaped her horrible fate, survived a deep betrayal and learned a horrible truth about her own parents. But we’d found Mr. Lee and Vivian, and that would please the reporters. That would have to do.
I would tell all that I knew to my publishers, since they were excited about the find, but for now I wanted it all to end. I was ready for this event to be over. Alex must have seen it in my eyes.
“Time to take a break, boys. Let’s take thirty. Everyone out of here, please.” He smiled at me, and I held his hand.
As we watched them break and find food in the kitchen, he whispered to me, “You know, I can send them away if you like. I can see this is wearing on you, Meg.”
“I just want to go to my room and take a nap. Do I have to say anything else? Give any more interviews?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“But I’m not, Alex. I told you what we’d find, and we did. It is what it is.”
“The cycle is broken, Megan. No more blood magic for the Storm family. There are no more Storms.”
I smiled at him and kissed him. “You’re right, of course.”
Now wouldn’t be a good time to tell him that I was pregnant. It was an even worse time to tell him that he wasn’t the father. Paden Kincaid was the father and I had been Joanna Storm. I knew it as well as I knew my own name.
And when I’d woken up from my encounter in the secret room, I knew the truth immediately. I knew why the seizures were worse; I knew what Mr. Lee and Vivian didn’t know. That a mother will always find a way to protect her baby.
And that’s what I did.
And in a matter of months I would have a child, a daughter. Yes, I could feel that in my blood. A daughter.
Yes, I would have a daughter, and she would be a Storm. I wasn’t sure yet, but I thought I might call her Joanna.
Connect with M.L. Bullock on Facebook. To receive updates on her latest releases, visit her website at M.L. Bullock and subscribe to her mailing list. You can also contact her at [email protected].
About the Author
Author of the best-selling Seven Sisters series and the Desert Queen series, M.L. Bullock has been storytelling since she was a child. A student of archaeology, she loves weaving stories that feature her favorite historical characters—including Nefertiti. She currently lives on the Gulf Coast with her family but travels frequently to explore the southern states she loves so much.
Read more from M.L. Bullock
The Nike Chronicles
Blue Water
Blue Wake
Blue Tide
The Seven Sisters Series
Seven Sisters
Mo
onlight Falls on Seven Sisters
Shadows Stir at Seven Sisters
The Stars that Fell
The Stars We Walked Upon
The Sun Rises Over Seven Sisters
Christmas at Seven Sisters (bonus short stories)
Ghost on a Swing (series prequel)
The Idlewood Series
The Ghosts of Idlewood
Dreams of Idlewood
The Whispering Saint
The Haunted Child
Return to Seven Sisters
(A Seven Sisters Sequel Series)
The Roses of Mobile
All the Summer Roses
Blooms Torn Asunder
A Garden of Thorns
The Gulf Coast Paranormal Series
The Ghosts of Kali Oka Road
The Ghosts of the Crescent Theater
A Haunting on Bloodgood Row
The Legend of the Ghost Queen
A Haunting at Dixie House
The Ghost Lights of Forrest Field
The Ghost of Gabrielle Bonet
The Ghost of Harrington Farm
The Creature on Crenshaw Road
A Ghostly Ride in Gulfport
Gulf Coast Paranormal Extras
The October People
Shabby Hearts Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series
A Touch of Shabby
Shabbier by the Minute
Shabby by Night
Shabby All the Way
The Sugar Hill Series
Wife of the Left Hand
Fire on the Ramparts
Blood by Candlelight
The Starlight Ball
His Lovely Garden
Ghosts of Summerleigh Series
The Belles of Desire, Mississippi
The Ghost of Jeopardy Belle
The Lady in White
Morgan’s Rock Series
The Haunting of Joanna Storm
The Hall of Shadows
The Vampires of Rock and Roll Series
Elegant Black
The Hall of Shadows Page 10
