by M L Garza
Unlike last night, however, she could not be denied the temptation to touch it. She reached out with her uninjured hand to touch the buttery soft fabric. it would feel like nothing at all when she wore it, leaving her as free as any Spirit. It moved like liquid when she waved it back and forth, and the golden runes caught the light like little stars against a moonlit sky.
Her Aunt Mirriam could not have given her a greater power against the Leviathan had she hatched a dragon's egg and given her the hatchling herself. So long as she had this, she could take on any foe put before her, man or beast.
As she moved the fabric around, another strip of fabric caught her eye. It sat folded just beneath the robes, so small and dark that it first escaped her notice. It was a black velvet garment, wrapped in red silk. She shouldn't unwrap it, it was most likely another gift for her that her aunt was not yet ready to unveil, but she was far too curious to wait.
She had to know.
With the flick of a wrist, it was done, and the ribbon fell to the ground.
The velvet unfolded itself, bit by bit, until the full measure of the piece draped exposed in her arms. She'd imagined a cape or a gown or even an altar cloth that might help her on Samhainl. Yet it sat cold and heavy in her grasp and fell to the floor in a graceless heap.
A burial shroud.
"Don't you get it now?"
She turned around, eyes wide and fearful, as Bryan entered the room. "What is this?" she whispered. "Bryan, why is there a shroud here?"
Her rival looked at her, not with hate, but with pity. He locked the door, the one forbidden thing in this house, and approached her. "You know why."
The coven doesn't expect me to win. Is that it? They think I'll fail?
"No," she said. "That's not true. I'll succeed, they're going to help me! You're all going to help me! They're in a meeting right now talking about how--"
"How you're going to die just like your mother."
The blood in Rachel's veins ran cold to hear him say it like that. Like it was nothing more than some expected outcome, nothing more special than a witch casting her first illusion.
Bryan reached for her, but she retreated from him, eyeing his hand like a viper. He'd had it out for her, ever since they were children. How foolish she was to ever think they could be friends! And he dared to look hurt by her reaction? The damned nerve of him!
"I didn't want you to find out like this, Rachel, but I had no choice. By the time I found out, there was nothing I could do. I want to help you, I really do. And I won’t tell them that you know. It’s up to you to do what you want with this knowledge."
“You just want to replace me, don’t you? You want to lead the coven. I didn’t choose my position, Bryan!”
He took a breath and softened. "I don't want to replace you, that's never what this was about. I hate that we weren't closer growing up, but my mom wouldn't allow it."
"Why not?" she asked. "What's this all about then? What are you saying?"
The shroud lay between them like this horrible barrier. Like the veil between the living and the Summerlands was already weakening.
"It was never about you battling the Leviathan, Rachel," he said in a dark undertone, eyes flitting back to the door as though the whole of the coven might come bursting in at any moment. "They're not going to help you defeat it, they're going to make sure you play your part just like your mother did."
"What part?"
Don’t say it...
"A sacrifice."
The witch squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as though to banish the words, but they burned into her mind and soul. Sacrifice. Was it just the cruel joke of a cruel man? Or could it possibly be true?
No, it can't be true! The Ashwood coven is my family! This shroud is just a precaution if I fail and nothing more! We don’t do sacrifices!
“Rachel,” he whispered. “Run away. I don’t want to see you die. I can’t. I… I lo--”
“Shut up!”
She pushed past him and raced for the door. She was desperate to escape him and his words at the same time, desperate to escape the very notion of the claim that she was nothing more than a lamb headed for slaughter.
"The Leviathan will rest if they give you to him," Bryan called after her. "That's the whole point of this. That's why they gave Catharine to him too. There's no way to defeat him! You have to escape, Rachel!"
Rachel would hear no more. She raced back toward the sequestered dining room, ready to throw back the doors and demand an answer. Surely they would drag Bryan in there and correct every horrible thing he said. They would explain the shroud, explain how they would defeat the Leviathan together, explain everything!
But her hands froze on the handle and she listened instead.
“—afterwards. She has no children of her own.”
“I know. And Grey is such a nice man too.”
“We’ll have another twenty years to prepare. Perhaps adopt a child with the Gift. Someone suitable for the next ceremony.”
Rachel released the doors entirely and covered her mouth to hide the frightened gasps that threatened to escape her lips. They could not hear her. Not now. Not like this.
“Do you think she suspects?”
“No, not at all. She still thinks she has a chance, poor thing.”
“Mm, like her mother.”
She could hear no more of this. Before anyone else could speak, Rachel was gone, back out the front door and to her car. She no longer cared about such mundane things as showers or a change of clothes.
There was no need to prepare the spell or for a battle anymore. What was the point in any of it? It was all a charade, a mask to hide the true purpose of Samhain night.
Grey was right after all. The coven couldn’t be trusted.
“The Leviathan is not your only enemy.”
Chapter 9
It took her half the time to return to Grey's apartment as it did to leave it. It was a miracle she hit nothing on the way through the winding roads due to the speed of her car and the tears blinding her sight. Perhaps it would have been a mercy to run off the road instead of letting the Leviathan devour her as the coven planned. If her own family was willing to offer her up as an ignorant sacrifice, then who cared what happened at Samhain? Let the damn thing eat the world; it was no longer a world worth saving if such a thing could be allowed.
At last she reached the old set of apartment buildings just around the corner of the Jiffy Lube. The moment she parked, Rachel was out of the car and racing toward the last door on the left.
"Grey!" she cried, pounding on the door. "Grey, open up!"
No answer.
Rachel continued the pounding of her fists on the door, not caring if she disturbed the entire compound. "Grey, open this damn door!"
It only took a moment longer before the door swung open and the man in question came out, his 9mm drawn, and his eyes narrowed, ready for battle. When he recognized her, it took him a moment to come back to his senses. "Rachel?"
She flew into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. The betrayal of her family unbearable now that she finally had someone to share it with. "You were right!" she admitted. "You were right about everything!"
"What do you mean? What happened?" He gently led her inside and sat her down on his couch. When he tried to release himself from her hold, the woman only held on tighter, refusing to let him go while she wept her broken heart into his chest. This he allowed, holding her until her tears were finally dry and she sat hiccupping and whimpering against him like a child.
"You were right," she repeated, throat dry and hoarse when it was done. "You were right, Grey."
"Right about what, you crazy woman?" her old friend asked, stroking her hair with a large gentle hand. "Talk some sense, will you?"
"It was all an act. My whole life has been some big lie." She looked up at him with red-rimmed brown eyes. "Grey, the coven... the ritual in two days."
"What about it?"
"It's not just a spell, it's
a sacrifice. I'm a sacrifice!"
He frowned in dismay and shook his head. "No. Rachel, you're wrong. Forget what I said, they're your family. they would never-
"I heard them say it, Grey!"
His mouth opened, but then it shut again. At last he understood, and he did not question further.
"Ok then," he said at last. "What do we do about it?"
"We?" she blinked. What we?
"Of course we. What, did you think I was going to let you fight some monster by yourself?"
Even through her sorrow, Rachel's temper flared and the last of her tears dried. "Didn't you hear me? There isn't going to be any fighting! The thing is supposed to eat me!"
He snorted and shrugged, returning to the cocky cop she knew and once loved, perhaps could love again if she forgot to guard her heart. "And you're going to let it? Just like that? That doesn't sound like the Rachel I know."
"Well what do you propose then? If this thing is so powerful that not even a full coven can beat it without a human sacrifice, what hope does a human cop and one witch have?"
"Probably none," he admitted. "But it's better than rolling over and taking it, don't you think? It would at least show that coven of yours that you're not one to underestimate."
Not the mention the look on Madam Montgomery and Aunt Mirriam's faces when I confront them will be worth it alone...
Rachel sighed and drew up her feet so that she was properly curled against Grey on the couch. "Those missing pages," she said quietly. "They weren't destroyed in the attack. I know that now. They must actually detail the sacrifice aspect of the spell. That's why I've never seen it and they never wrote it down again. It all makes sense now."
"I'm sorry, Rachel. I really am."
She was too, though the boiling anger was growing stronger with every breath she took. It was a welcome distraction from the grief, and so she clung to it just as she clung to the recreation of her mother's robes earlier. It was all she had. That and Grey.
Between that and Grey, perhaps I have a chance after all.
"So, when you perform the ceremony, what happens?" he asked. "The thing just shows up?"
"Pretty much," she said. "If it went according to the original plan, I would join forces with the coven, and we would destroy the Leviathan and keep it from venturing into the world to devour the living."
"What's to stop you from doing just that?"
Was he truly that stupid? Hadn't he been listening to a word? This was why a witch and a mortal didn't have any business mixing their worlds together. Rachel stood and walked over to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of juice, delaying herself from having to formulate a response. Well what was she supposed to do if faced with the Leviathan? What did he expect her to do?
When he said nothing further, Rachel looked at Grey and smiled sadly. "If that was enough to defeat it, that's what they would have done instead of perform blood magic. Human sacrifices are forbidden except in the most dire of circumstances. The coven tells of the Leviathan coming for countless generations. Sometimes it's fought off, sometimes it kills the one who summons it. Now that I know the witch is a sacrifice, I don't know how much of the story is just that."
"But in theory, it could work, right?"
She waved her hand and sipped from the glass, looking out the window where normal people were leading normal lives. How she envied them. "In theory, sure."
"Then I think you should do it."
"Are you insane?" she snorted, watching a squirrel crawl along the ledge of his window.
"Do you have a choice?"
Do I?
Rachel didn't know. The Leviathan would come one way or another, but would it just choose another of the witches and go back home or would it continue on to devour the world as she first feared? And damn her, why did she still care if another witch or warlock lost their life?
"I don't think I ever had a choice," she sighed at last. "Not in anything."
Grey stood and joined her in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "You always have a choice. I'll make sure of it. I'll be there for whatever you pick too. You won't be there alone."
"That's what Aunt Mirriam said too," Rachel whispered.
"I mean it. I'll be there." Grey breathed deeply and kissed the top of her head. "Just get me into Fort Merlin and I'll back you up. Deal?"
For the first time since discovering her coven's duplicity, Rachel smiled. "Deal.”
Chapter 10
Bryan was the first person she sought out when she returned to the mansion. Honestly, she didn’t want to see anyone at all, but she knew better than to let on that she knew. They couldn’t know, not if she wanted to survive this. The most they could believe was that she had some pre-spell jitters, and that was all.
They might very well drug me or something to make sure I’m a good little sacrifice otherwise.
But life had to go on until Samhain, and she couldn’t spend all of it with Grey as much as she wanted. So that meant recruiting Bryan, much to his great annoyance. True to his word, he hadn’t said anything either about her discovery, letting them all believe everything was going according to plan.
“So what does that have to do with me?” Bryan complained when she dragged him from his temporary room on the second day.
Rachel took him by the wrist down toward the ceremonial halls, ignoring the strange looks from the other members of the coven as they went. It was rare the two of them were ever seen together, let alone willingly. “I need something to do and I’m not doing it by myself.”
Just inside the main hall were several boxes, each filled to the brim with decorations. Most of the rest of the house was in various stages of preparation for the holiday, but it was tradition to set up this room last of all and with the most sacred of objects. Beside these boxes were carved gourds and pumpkins, stalks of corn, and raven feathers gathered into bouquets with roses. Every Samhain the halls were decorated, but this year, the year of the Leviathan, it had to look special.
If I’m going to die, Rachel thought, I’m going to do it in a nice-looking room.
“You know warlocks aren’t supposed to be doing this,” Bryan grumbled as they set up the room to her specifications.
“There’s lots of things going on in this house that shouldn’t be,” Rachel quipped back. She took a bundle of roses and carried them over to the altar to begin the main centerpiece. “Now, are you going to help me or not?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” He held up a pumpkin in emphasis.
“I’m not talking about that, and you know it.” Rachel peeked back at the door to the hall to make sure it was still secure before lowering her voice. "How can we defeat the Leviathan, Bryan?"
"You can't," he said as if it were obvious. "I told you, you should have run."
"I'm not running from this, so you're going to have to do better than that. Grey is going to help, but I need you too. I can't do this alone."
Her coven-mate shook his head and set down the corn stalks he was tying together. "You haven't been listening. Whole covens haven't been able to do it. That's why they switched to blood sacrifices."
"So that's it? You're just going to stand back and let this happen?" Rachel narrowed her honey-brown eyes at him dangerously. "You need to do better than that."
“I can’t help you any more than I already have,” Bryan said. "I've already risked my life by warning you at all."
“What do you mean you can't help me?” she demanded, just barely remembering not to yell. “You’re not taking their side, are you?”
“Of course not. But there’s only so much I can do, Rachel. I can lend you some power on Samhain night, but nothing that will draw attention to me.”
An eyebrow lifted.
He raised his hands in defense. “You think I want the whole of the coven to come after me next? I don’t want to be the Leviathan’s next sacrifice!”
Nice to know Bryan Montgomery i
s as brave as his mother…
Though she had to give him some credit, at least he told her the truth before it was too late.
“Something is better than nothing,” she sighed, focusing her attention on the placement of jack o' lanterns next. “Thanks, Bryan.”
He nodded and offered a small smile before picking up another gourd. "Give that thing and my mother hell," he said to her. “Once they see you fighting back, maybe it will inspire them to fight back too.”
Fat chance of that, but worth a shot, I guess.
She nodded and kissed his cheek. “You better pony up when the time comes. I’ll need all the help I can get.”
The man’s cheeks darkened but he nodded quickly. “I’ll do it, I promise.”
They finished decorating the hall in companionable silence before parting ways as friends. There were festivities to get to, a celebration to be had, and a coven to fool.
On the day of the ceremony, they feasted and partied, just as they did every year on Samhain, and still nothing unusual would have tipped her off that anything was wrong if she hadn’t known. Aunt Mirriam fussed as she always did, asking if she knew the spell, if she was ready for what was to come. Gifts were exchanged, offerings were made to those who had passed on before, and decorations were lit that made the entire compound come alive. Those without the Gift, regular mortals, may just celebrate Halloween with candy and costumes, but this was their night.
Traitorous bastards the lot of them might be, but the Ashwood coven knew how to put on a damn good Samhain party.
She tried to enjoy it, she truly did, but how could she? They were still traitorous bastards and Rachel was still set to die at midnight the same way as her mother twenty years ago. So she eventually feigned illness and stayed in her room for the rest of the evening, staring at the white robes on the hanger, wondering if they would be stained red by dawn.
