I wanted to believe him so badly.
I waited five minutes until I could stand again and made my way back into my bedroom to my cell phone by the bed. It was silently lighting up.
An uneasy feeling crept into my stomach. Missed call. It was from a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. O’Kelley. Ye’re to do exactly as I say.”
My heart twisted. “Hannah? What’s going on?”
“Ye’re to do exactly as instructed, ye hear me?”
“Are you okay? Who told you to say that?”
A menacing laugh came from the background and chilled my blood.
“Hannah? Are you there?”
“Please, Mrs. O’Kelley, if ye wanna see Alana again, ye’re to come alone. Móraí’s chapel. She says ye’ll know where that is. Down the winding steps … and come alone.”
Móraí. Damn that woman! What was she up to?! My fingers clutched the phone tightly.
She was going to rue the day she messed with this Mama Bear.
THIRTYFOUR
I thrust the ornately carved wooden doors of the chapel wide open. The biblical scenes that had once sparkled in the sunlight and projected a multitude of colors onto the stone floor looked dark and foreboding.
“Móraí.” I growled, locking eyes with the grey-haired woman. Back as straight as a rod, she stood on the dais in front of an open trap door.
“This way, dear,” she said, stepping down.
I knew where that trapdoor led. I’d been taken down that long and winding flight of stone steps seventeen years before.
I wished for Cullen, but he’d raced from the house without his phone. I’d called Leslie on the way instead and asked her to find him to tell him what was happening.
“Where’s my daughter?”
Móraí pointed down at the stairs that were hidden beneath the trap door. As I crossed over the very place where my brother-in-law—my nemesis, Liam—had once plunged to his death, I remembered my vow: that I would never set foot in this evil chapel again. I’d almost broken that vow once when Sam had kidnapped Leslie, but thankfully we’d found her in Móraí’s house. I really hated this place.
“We both know I’m not going down there. Now call Alana out before I push your bony ass down that flight of steps.”
Móraí shook her head and took her hand from behind her back. A gun. How the hell had she gotten a gun?
“You won’t shoot me,” I whispered defiantly.
She clicked what I knew to be the safety off. “You killed my grandson.”
Clearly, I didn’t know what Móraí was capable of.
I breathed deeply as she guided me down the stairs into the cave-like room where I’d once been held captive. The room felt like it was closing in on me. Instinctively, I pulled back.
“Keep going,” Móraí said, shoving me down the last step.
I took another deep breath, and nodded.
“I’m claustrophobic, remember, and this room doesn’t bring back the best of memories.”
“We’re not staying here.” She pushed on the wall at the opposite end and it moved. Great, more passages. I thought to myself.
The tunnel opened up to a scarred wooden table.
Black mirrors hung on each of the five walls. A multitude of charms dangled from the ceiling—mostly silk bags hanging on braided cords—and symbols were drawn in a red, black, and ochre border at the top of the walls. Shallow shelves were adorned with stones. The room carried a powerful scent of sage, and flaming torches surrounded us.
“Sit down,” Móraí rasped. “Our hostess will be right out.”
I looked around the table at two more faces I recognized, Hannah Walsh and her mother, Shona.
“They kidnapped you too?” I whispered.
Shona looked down but Hannah looked proud as a peacock.
“They’re part of our coven.” A voice emerged from the darkness.
‘Our hostess’ was none other than Madame Brun, her eyes rimmed heavily with thick black liner and her lips as red as rubies.
My jaw dropped.
“Sandra, what’s going on here?”
She wore a black robe with a hood lined with red velvet. Whatever she was dressed for, it didn’t look like she was up to any good. It sure didn’t look like she planned to reunite me with Alana anytime soon.
“Please, call me by my true name, Alexandra.”
“Alexandra…what…where’s my daughter…? Alana?!” I screamed.
“Be quiet!” Sandra commanded, in a deep, liquid voice. “You’ll do as I say, or you’ll never see her again.”
My eyes darted for Móraí’s. She would never let anyone harm Alana…would she? Doubt crept in like an ugly little black spider.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want to go home.”
“Who is stopping you?”
“My name doesn’t sound familiar to you?” She paused while I racked my brain. “It doesn’t matter; you don’t need to remember—you only need to open the portal.”
Panic seared my insides. “No. I’m not going back. No way... Alana, where’s Alana,” I screamed. Please God, let her be all right. Tears streamed down my face.
“Be quiet! Your daughter is fine. Not that she deserves to be. She ruined my life without a care.”
“How could a girl ruin your life?”
“She wasn’t always a girl.”
I frowned, feeling more confused than ever.
“What do you want?”
“Móraí wants her grandson, Liam, back. She’s been teaching Alana to use the book; unfortunately, Alana is only a shadow of her former self. She won’t be strong enough to power the time portal for another couple of years and Móraí doesn’t have that kind of time.”
“They found a tumor in my brain. I must see Liam again before I go.”
I turned to Móraí, letting my hostility show. I was putting it all together now. Connecting the dots—she had been the one to steal the book. She’d been trying to make me crazy so Alana would live with her and she could use her powers to bring back Liam. I didn’t understand how Sandra Brun had come to be in contact with Móraí, but it didn’t really matter which one of them reached out to the other. They were both traitors and dead to me. I pushed my feelings aside.
“I…we can make things right,” Móraí added.
I turned away, unable to look at her any longer.
“What’s in it for you, Sandra? Why would opening the portal to save Liam benefit you?”
Then it hit me: she had said she wanted to go home. “You came from another time?”
Sandra clapped her hands together. “There you are. I knew you could do it. Yes, my home is in another time and place—a time you know quite well.”
“Monaco?” I whispered curling my hands into fists. “Did I wrong you on my trip into 1857? Were you in cahoots with Nico?”
“Your way off base, it was 15th century Romania and it was your daughter who wronged me but that no longer matters.”
“It does matter. If you want my help then I need to know,” I retorted.
“Suit yourself.” Sandra cleared her throat and began to pace. “It all started with a love spell I borrowed from my mother.” She pointed to Móraí. “She practiced witchcraft in secret back then.”
“Móraí was your mother?”
Sandra nodded. “I used the love spell on Vilhem Cuza and we were married. Unfortunately, there are consequences to magic and after fourteen years, I had only ten miscarriages to show for it. I begged my Great-Aunt—the High Priestess —to use her spell book to help me deliver a healthy child. She refused, stating magic was not to be toyed with, instead she sent Elena Maria Catargiu-Obrenović, claiming she was a great healer who would help me keep my baby.”
I recognized the name from my regression. “The woman hanged beside me, my mother,” I whispered.
“Yes, you do remember.” Sandra smiled. “I became pregnant once again, but instead of helping
me, that witch, Elena, used her magic to end my pregnancy and stole my husband’s attention in the process.”
“Funny, I don’t recall it happening that way.”
Sandra narrowed her eyes but otherwise ignored me. “I could see how Elena was seducing my husband so I made her a deal. I allowed her to sleep with my husband as long as she provided me with a son. She agreed with one caveat. I should have known then that it was all a trick. She demanded she keep the baby if it was a girl. The following month we figured out that we were both pregnant. I gave birth to a son, Costin. You know him as Cullen.”
My mind went to the night they’d had dinner at our house. Sandra had been so fascinated by Cullen. Thinking back, I realized she’d called him Costin a time or two and now I knew why. She’d even mentioned her son…what had she said…that he’d been stolen from her.
Sandra paused and I leaned against the wall. My feet were far from steady. “You’re seriously telling me that Cullen was your son.”
Sandra nodded, “And Alana was your mother and my enemy.”
“What?” My mind spun with the possibility.
“That’s right. Elena is Alana and—it gets more twisted—my husband Vilhem was none other than your Liam.”
I took a step back and leaned against the wall. This was more than I could bear. “Liam could not be my father…that makes no sense.”
“It does to me. Liam loved you more than anything and anyone in the world. He was obsessed with you and your mother and he ignored poor Costin.”
“Cullen?” I clarified.
She looked at me, crossly, “Yes, Cullen. He ignored him” Her jaw set tight, the muscles in her neck drew taut, as though she were really there, reliving the memory. She clenched her fists. “I grew more and more bitter with every passing year, and finally when my son turned sixteen, I set a plan in motion to get rid of the two of you once and for all. My mother was on her deathbed. The whole village was touched with illness and the Priest threatened a witch hunt, announcing loudly to anyone who would listen that the illness was the devils work. The town was in an uproar, they were starving and upset with my step-father—he ran things in the absence of the castle’s real owner. Anyway, it gave me an idea and so one night I helped my mother along…in secret of course.”
“Ye did what? Ye never said that.” Móraí protested.
Sandra turned to Móraí and frowned. “What does it matter? You were dying anyway. I put you out of your misery.”
Móraí went silent, moving to the doorway. She crossed her arms over her petite chest, leaned back against the wall, and glowered. My guess was she was more than a little surprised by how all this was going.
Good. It served her right.
Sandra turned back to me, avoiding Móraí’s contemptuous stare, but I thought I glimpsed a look of regret. “I demanded Elena heal my mother. She came with her herbs and potions and tried to save her. Of course, Mother was already dead and my step-father, the most powerful man in the town of Hunedoara was as enamored by me as he had been by my mother. So, I convinced him that Elena was a witch and that she’d cursed Mother to die. From there both you and Elena were imprisoned and eventually taken to the Gallows.”
That was the part I remembered.
“Cullen tried to save us, but you wouldn’t listen,” I choked out, reliving the awful noose around my neck.
“Yes. Vilhem tried as well. He died trying to save you, and although I changed my mind after that, and tried to protect you as well, the town was convinced you were a witch.” Sandra drooped like a deflated balloon, sinking down into one of the chairs, cradling her head in her hands. She let out a defeated moan.
I debated on running, but the likelihood of making it out of this maze of tunnels was not favorable and, truthfully, a part of me really wanted to hear her story. It rang as the truth to me.
“Elena’s neck snapped instantly, but your rope broke. The crowd turned on the executioner; in those days they took it as a sign of divine intervention. Cullen picked you up and we took you in and claimed you were my prisoner. Cullen was madly in love with you.”
“But we were half brother and sister.”
“Those things didn’t matter then.” She gave a bitter laugh. “And anyway, you weren’t…siblings. That is, Costin was the son of the local Priest, my step-father’s second in command—he was crazy and maniacal when it came to witches. I was careful to keep him in my corner. You hated us for what we’d done to your mother and you wouldn’t stop spewing your hate. I warned you that the Priest was watching, but you wouldn’t stop and when he saw that you were turning Costin against us, he sent men to drown you in the river.
That must have been what Cullen’s dream was about. Too bad he hadn’t dreamed about this.
“Cullen turned on me, vowing to follow you, even if it meant into death. That’s when I cursed us all. I stole away for my Great-Aunt’s cottage in the woods…”
After a moment she looked back up, as though surprised to see we were still there.
“Sit down,” she commanded as if finally realizing I might try to escape.
I took a seat on one of the wooden chairs.
“She was the high priestess, although no one aside from our immediate family knew that. I broke in while she was out and stole the book. I wish I knew then how things would have turned out. I was just so angry … even though Elena was already dead, I wanted her to suffer as I was suffering so I cursed us all to reincarnate endlessly and you to a horrible death in every life. I swear, if I’d known what would happen, I would never have written those stupid childish words. I was so outraged by Vilhem for loving you more than me and my son…so I cursed him with obsession. That’s why in every life you were murdered at his hands. You knew him as Nico, Uilliam, Velte and eventually Liam. He was a pawn used in my fury. I made sure Elena would never be able to save you,” she said, holding up her hands as if to pray for forgiveness. “I even made myself immortal so that I, too, would always be there to bask in your mother’s misery.”
“But if Elena was my daughter, she never had to watch, she didn’t suffer, she was never born.”
“Yes, I know that now. I didn’t think that one through. I didn’t want Vilhem and Elena together so I reversed you and your mother in your roles. I thought that would leave your mother helpless in time to save you and thus she would suffer having to live without you as I was forced to live without my loved ones…Please don’t look at me like that. I know how this all sounds…I was irate and delusional when I wrote it.”
I shook the thoughts away.
“I still don’t understand. You wrote a spell in the book and cursed us to reincarnate. What about the sapphire?”
“That was my Great-Aunt’s doing—or should I say undoing. She realized I stole the book and reclaimed it. The spell was written, so she could not undo it but she was able to write in caveats to change it. She sacrificed much of her own power to make it happen, but she felt liable because I was family and therefore her responsibility. She never forgave me. Elena was one of her closest friends. We fought at Dunlace and she died when Sive did.
“She removed the curse from your soul, placing it inside my sapphire—a gem I used in my own dark magic. So poetic, to steal and use my jewel against me, but it was handy for her, I guess. She altered the curse so you would only die if the sapphire came into contact with your skin.”
“What about the legend of Indra? The stone’s dark magic ready and able to corrupt humanity. You were the one who told me that the devil hid his dark magic inside the sapphire.”
“Lies. All lies.”
It dawned on me just how gullible I’d been. She’d played me every step of the way. “—But the spirits and the life cycle and the revolving door…”
“Buddhism. I borrowed and planted some philosophy along the way.”
“No way. There were too many people who would have to be in on this. My Gigi told me that bedtime story. The world knows the story of the sapphire. Rochus even told me himself tha
t he was one of the keepers, chosen to watch over it, to make sure it was never removed—to keep the world safe from its powers.”
“One giant lie created a long time ago for your own protection. I only borrowed it to use it against to you. My Great-Aunt watched over you until I got too close in 1551. You were named Sive then. In her final act before dying, she sent her son, Rochus, away with the sapphire and the book. She told him to spell the temple, making it practically impossible to find. That’s why you were unable to locate it when you went to India to return the stone. She sent it there for safe keeping because I couldn’t set foot inside; she cloaked the temple from me. Then to prevent the locals from accidentally finding and pillaging it, she had Rochus spread the rumor about the devil’s bedazzling sapphire that corrupted souls. It worked up until I paid a treasure hunter to find it. She knew once it was removed, I would be able to sense it and I would be able to manipulate Vilhem in whatever way I wanted in order to bring you and the cursed stone together. I am ashamed to admit that I told Nico the stone would give him unlimited power, but after that fate was of his own making. He was out of control. The darkness grew in Velte and Liam without my help. I even tried to stop it at times but couldn’t.”
I stopped short, suddenly recognizing Sandra. “You were Alastríona. You looked much younger back then, but how … Alastríona was Irish and you sound nothing like her.”
“Aye, I can if I choose, after hundreds of years; ye learn to blend. The real Alastríona died on her journey to work in the castle. Her jilted fiancé was only too happy to have me back when I returned. I don’t think his eyesight was all that good.”
“I thought you said you were immortal. Why do you age?”
My Great-Aunt couldn’t reverse my immortality, but she altered it, forcing me to age—albeit much slower than the rest of the world. Unfortunately, it’s like a snowball, picking up speed and the older I get, the faster I age. I find myself more and more frequently using that wretched spell to turn back the hands of time.”
“I recognized you in that past-life regression,” I said as pieces of the puzzle all clicked together.
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 83
