The doorbell rang. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Rowan went to get it. And when she came back, she had her best friend Shauna at her side. Shauna looked old, for a teenager. Dark circles under her eyes and a washed-out look to her face. Poor kid. This hadn't been easy on her.
"Shauna wants to hang out here tonight, okay, Dad?"
"Sure. How are you. Shauna?" He kept his voice soft.
"I'm gonna be all right, Mr. Hawthorne. I just wish it would stop hurting."
He reached out a hand to stroke the girl's hair. "It eases up in time. After awhile, you'll be able to remember the good times and even smile a little. I promise."
She looked up at him. "I guess if you can say that, then I have to believe it."
"It doesn't feel like it right now though," he said. "I know."
"Dad, why don't you go now? I won't be home alone, and Shauna and I will be fine."
He looked from one of them to the other. "You sure?''
"Yeah. We'll eat some junk food and talk it out."
He bit his lower lip. During the course of the investigation of her boyfriend, Shauna had been checked out, and there hadn't been any indication that she'd been involved in or even aware of Bryan's questionable activities. Hell, they never really found proof that he'd done anything more than be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And Jonathon really did want to check on Bella.
And it was only a few blocks away.
"Okay." he said at last. "Okay, but don't go anywhere. And call if you need me. All right?"
"Sure," Rowan said.
"Thanks, Mr. Hawthorne," Shauna said in her hoarse-from-crying voice.
Jonathon left the girls and drove over to Mirabella's house. When he got there, though, he wished he'd come sooner.
A crowd had gathered outside. Angry locals and reporters. He couldn't have walked through them to the front door if he'd wanted to. But he didn't see Bella's car in the driveway anyway. She usually walked everywhere she went, if it was local. Probably, though, walking wasn't the safest prospect for her right at the moment.
His throat went a little dry.
He drove on past and tried to think where she might go, when she had every reason to doubt her welcome at any place in this town. Including his own.
Only one answer came to mind.
So he drove there. To that little shop that had been vandalized the night before. He'd heard about it at work.
And her car was there. But the place was dark as a dungeon.
Frowning Jonathon parked across the street, got out, and went over to the shop's front door. The town was dead tonight. Everyone was either shouting obscenities outside Bella's house or at the school gym for the town meeting that had been called to address the problem of Witchcraft in Ezra Township. He'd heard a rumor they'd located an old law on the books which made teaching Witchcraft to a minor a criminal act, with no maximum sentence. It had to have been left over from the seventeenth century when the town was first founded. Now some wanted to resurrect it, enforce it, and prosecute those who'd broken it.
He crossed the sidewalk and stared up at the old Victorian house. The front wall still smelled of new paint, and the window had been replaced. No lettering on it yet, though.
A soft sound drifted up from below, and something bunted his leg. He glanced down to see a black cat rubbing against him.
"Hey, you wouldn't be the missing Circe, would you?" He bent down. There was a tag dangling from the cat's collar, and he bet it had a name on it. He would like to be able to return one missing pet to its owner intact.
But when he reached for the cat, she dodged him, and trotted around the house. Frowning, he went after her. She didn't go far. In fact, after a few yards, she turned to look back and waited for him to catch up.
When he did, she didn't run off again. Just stood still and let him scoop her up. He glanced at the tag...then turned his head slowly.
The haunting sound of voices, chanting in an overlapping, ever changing cadence, caught his attention. He looked at the windows, where the sound seemed to come from, and saw the flickering dance of candlelight casting shadows. Shapes of women, moving.
And there was a door...and oddly, it was open.
He held the cat close, and silently, drawn in spite of himself, he went through the door into a back room of the house.
Chapter Eight
Rowan and Shauna sat in Rowan's bedroom, nibbling ice cream out of the carton. They reclined side by side on the bed, and the stereo played Seether.
For an hour, Shauna had been pouring her heart out about Bryan. How much she'd loved him. How much she was going to miss him. And crying.
She'd been crying a lot.
Rowan just listened and didn't worry about saying the right thing, because as Bella had told her, there really was no right thing. And she thought Bella was right.
Talking it out did seem to be easing Shauna's mind a little bit. It made Rowan feel she was helping her, in some small way.
And then, out of the blue. Shauna said. "I just wish he'd never got involved with that whole mess. I mean, it wasn't worth it. It just screwed up his head."
Rowan tried not to look as alarmed as she felt. "What whole mess, Shauna?"
Shauna sniffled, wiped her eyes. "Nothing. I mean...I don't want his name being dragged through the mud, Rowan. He's gone now, you know? It would be too hard on his mom."
''I wouldn't want his mom to suffer any more than she already has. Or you either. Come on. I'm your best friend. If you don't get it out, it's just gonna keep eating at you until you do, you know."
Shauna blinked her red-rimmed eyes. "It has been helping, talking to you. How'd you get so smart anyway?"
"Mirabella-Miss Saint A, I mean. She told me you were going to need friends who'd just let you spill it all out."
Shauna lowered her head. "I guess Miss Saint A's going through some garbage of her own right now, huh?"
''They suspended her from her job at school. It's all over the papers that she's some kind of cat-murdering devil-worshiper."
"That's so lame." Shauna said. "They're so stupid. She's the best teacher we ever had."
"I know."
"She wouldn't hurt a freaking fly, you know?"
"I know."
Drawing a breath. Shauna lifted her chin. "Rowan, Miss Saint A didn't have anything to do with those animals they've been finding all cut up."
"I know."
"Yeah, but...I mean. I really know it."
Rowan frowned. "How?"
"Because...it was Bryan, and a couple of other guys. Swear you won't tell!"
Rowan heard what she said, but it took an extra beat to sink in. It was that far beyond belief. When she could finally spit out words, she blurted, "Why the hell would he do something like that?"
"Because he was paid to."
Rowan frowned hard, and tipped her head sideways. "You mean it didn't have anything to do with any...occult stuff at all?"
"No, of course not. Bryan's only religion was football and that stupid old junk car he wanted to re-build. He was getting paid a lot, Rowan. I mean, it was nothing for him to have three or four hundred bucks on him all at once. When he started throwing all that cash around, I thought...I don't know, I thought he was dealing drugs or something. So he told me the truth. Someone was paying him a ton of money to kidnap cats and rabbits and stuff, and cut them up and leave them where they would be found. The guy gave him instructions too. How he had to make symbols in blood and stuff. It was disgusting."
"Jeez, Shauna! What were you thinking? Why didn't you say something?"
She looked shocked at Rowan's anger. "Hey, don't act like I'm the one who was killing animals!"
Rowan just looked at her.
Shauna lowered her head. "Bryan hated it. I mean, he felt awful about it. And he said he never tortured anything, like the papers say. He always killed them first, before any of the—other stuff. And he promised me he'd stop. Then the cops saw him that last night in the cemete
ry. And he got scared. He told the guy he was working for that he wanted no more to do with it. He wanted out, you know?"
"Yeah?" By now, Rowan was facing her on the bed, gripping her hands hard, eager to hear more. "And then what happened?"
"Nothing. The guy said fine, no problem. Bryan seemed so relieved. I thought he was gonna be okay, you know?" Shauna lowered her head as tears welled up again. "I guess he just couldn't deal with the guilt of killing those innocent animals, though."
"Right. Bryan killed himself over some cats and bunnies."
Shauna burst into noisy tears, and Rowan hugged her and rubbed her shoulders while she cried. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, but don't you see how ridiculous it is? Shauna, you have to tell me something." She pushed Shauna back a bit, so she could look her in the eye. "Who was the guy paying Bryan and the others to do this stuff?"
Shauna shrugged. "Bryan didn't tell me."
"Well, we have to find out."
"Row! You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"
Rowan gaped. "Hello? Shauna, are you telling me you still don't get it? Think, will you? Bryan is questioned by the cops. Then he tells this jerk he wants out, and twenty-four hours later, Bryan is dead. Doesn't that make you wonder, even a little bit, Shauna? Doesn't it?"
Shauna frowned. Then slowly her brows rose, her eyes widened, and her face went even whiter. "Oh my God...do you think...?"
"I don't know. But I think we'd better find out. Don't you?"
"I said all along Bryan would never kill himself! God, Rowan, what are we gonna do?"
"We have to find out who the guy was. Maybe the other kids involved would talk. Did Bryan say-?"
"No. No, he wouldn't tell me any details." She licked her lips, eyed Rowan. "Maybe there's something in Bryan's room. I mean, he kept journals-and I think this guy e-mailed him too. We could check his computer." Then she lowered her head. "But the cops have probably already done all that."
'"No. No, it was ruled a suicide and blamed on Witchcraft. They didn't dig too much farther once all that was decided. Will his mom let us in his room?" Rowan asked. She seriously doubted it.
"She's not home. My mom took her out. She...she wanted a new suit for Bryan to wear for...for the funeral. She just couldn't bear to do it alone. That's why I came over. I couldn't make myself go with them, but I didn't want to be alone either."
She started to cry again.
Rowan gripped her shoulders. "I know. It's awful, I know. But come on now, pull it together, Shauna. Get a grip. For Bryan."
Sniffling, Shauna nodded, got hold of herself.
"Can we get in, Shauna? Can we get into Bryan's house, his room?"
"Yeah," she whispered. "He always left his window-unlatched, in case I wanted to come by to say goodnight."
Rowan nodded, even though that sentence had her tearing up almost as much as Shauna was. "All right," she said. "Okay then. Listen, I can do this myself if you're not up for it."
Shauna dashed the back of her hand across her eyes, and got to her feet. "I'm in. If someone killed Bryan, I damn well want to know who."
They grabbed jackets, flashlights, and they headed out into the night. But when they got to Bryan's house, someone else was already there.
# # #
Jonathon walked silently into the large room, the cat nestled in his arms. A group of women stood in a circle, holding hands, and they didn't even notice him there. They were faces he knew. Granny Kate. Dr. Plummer. One of the secretaries from the DA's office, for crying out loud.
Mirabella was in the center of the circle. And he'd never seen her look like she did then. Her dress was simple, white, draping, tied with a braided cord of three colors. Her hair hung loosely down her back. She wore several necklaces, all of them laden with gemstones. Amber and jet. Moonstone and citrine. Others he couldn't have named. She stood with eyes closed, head tipped slightly back, arms up and out to the sides. The candlelight painted her face. And in spite of himself, he thought she looked more beautiful than any woman he'd ever set eyes on.
The other women chanted, their song falling into so many layers of harmony he couldn't separate one from another. It was beautiful. They sang the names of ancient Goddesses, and he thought he heard the sea, but there was no source for that. The smoke of incense filled the air. And there was something else. Something different about the space in the room where he stood, and the space within that circle of female bodies. That circle was different somehow, denser or...or something.
But then he couldn't focus on that, either, because the chanting stopped all at once, and Mirabella turned to her left and spoke, but her voice was different, deeper, richer, almost ethereal.
"Ashley Rowan Hawthorne, I stir thy spirit! Come ye forth, from beyond the Western gate! Bring thy message now! For the sake of thy daughter, come!"
And the others began to chant again, only this time it was his dead wife's name they sang. Over and over again, they said it.
Tears boiled from Jonathon's eyes, rolling down his face. He opened his mouth to shout at them, to forbid this nonsense. But before he could utter a sound, he saw something. A swirl of particles, dust motes or atoms, gathered like a misty whirlwind right in front of Mirabella. And when they solidified, she was standing there. Ashley. She was filmy, and thin, but there.
Jonathon whispered her name in a harsh voice and lunged forward. But he hit some invisible barrier when he would have forced himself between the women in the circle. Some shield that wasn't solid, but pressed him back all the same.
Mirabella's eyes were still closed. But she drew her hands in, turned her palms out, and as Jonathon stared in wide-eyed wonder. Ashley pressed her misty hands flat to Bella's.
"What do you want me to do?" Bella asked.
"Love her." It was a long drawn out whisper, like the sound of a breeze in treetops.
"I do love her."'
"Save her." Ashley whispered, long and slowly.
"How?"
Ashley's arms slid around Bella. It looked as intimate as an embrace between sisters. But he could see...or sense...her lips moving near Bella's ear. And then there was a wind, so strong it sent the door banging against the wall behind him. The candles went out in a whoosh. The cat leapt out of his arms.
He couldn't see Ashley or Bella any more, and frantically, he searched for the light switch, and found it.
With a flick of his hand, the room was flooded with light. Bella was sitting on the floor, shaking her head as if stunned. Gwenyth, the blond who owned the shop, stooped as the cat ran to her, and she scooped the animal up with a shout of joy.
Bella got to her feet, saw him, and started forward, looking dazed.
"Cut a door!" someone yelled, and the woman in front of Bella traced an arch in the air.
Bella moved through it, and straight to Jonathon.
"What the hell just happened here?" he asked, and his voice was strained to the point where he could barely form audible words.
"We have to go. We have to go to Rowan."
He barely heard her. He was still staring at the spot where he'd seen Ashley. "Was that...how could she...Ashley's dead.... "
"There's no such thing as dead."
"But...but...."
She slapped him. Her palm was hot, he noticed, and it didn't sting much. Just enough to make him focus on her.
"Rowan is in trouble. We have to go. Now." She spoke with authority and power he'd sensed in her, but never seen before. And he found himself believing every word.
He nodded, still too stunned to speak. Mirabella took his hand firmly in hers and pulled him along toward the door. Over her shoulder she called, "Take up the circle. Call the police and send them to Bryan Marcomb's house. And hurry."
And the next thing Jonathon knew he was being tugged out the door, around the house to the driveway where her car was parked. She opened the passenger door and shoved him into the scat. Then she went to her side and got behind the wheel. A second later, they were speeding through town.
Chapter Nine
Rowan was standing outside Bryan's house, pushing up his bedroom window with Shauna tight to her side when she saw something moving inside the room.
She went stiff and still.
"What?" Shauna whispered.
Rowan backed up, pulling Shauna with her. "Someone's in there."
"Did they see you?"
"I don't know. I don't—" The window was yanked open, and a dark form filled it "—Think so," Rowan finished.
The two girls turned to run, but Rowan could hear the footfalls behind them. And in less than a second, a big hand hit her hard, right between the shoulder blades, and sent her face-first into the ground.
She rolled over onto her back, crab walking backwards from the man looming over her.
"Mr. Hayes," she panted. "What are you...why are you—?"
Shauna screamed for all she was worth, and Rowan looked toward her, only to see Mrs. Hayes, their own high school principal grabbing hold of her.
The man reached for Rowan, and she flung up a hand like a stop sign. She didn't know what made her do it, but every part of her was focused on one thing. Pushing him away from her. And though she never touched him, he went backward, staggering, then falling. She scrambled to her feet, turned to run, and hit a solid chest.
# # #
Jonathon saw his daughter send the attacker stumbling backward. And sure, he might have tripped, or just lost his balance. But he didn't think so.
He and Mirabella had sped straight here, heard Shauna's scream, and ran like the wind into the backyard just in time to see Hayes fall on his ass. Then Rowan was on her feet, turning to run. And then she was in her father's arms.
She jerked back, doubling up a fist and raising it. Then she blinked at him and hurled herself against him all over again. "Daddy!"
Beside him, Mirabclla was holding a shaken Shauna, calming her. Sirens wailed, not that the police were overly called for. A coven of Witches had thundered into the yard only a minute behind him and Bella, their robes dancing in the night wind, their hair smelling of sandalwood. Several of them were hauling Mr. Hayes to his feet, while a handful of others were busily subduing Mrs. Hayes, who had released Shauna and tried to run for it.
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