As the black cloud got nearer to Michelle, she had to cringe away from a noxious penetrating odor. It reminded her of sulfur, of burning hair and flesh. She had a flashing thought that it came directly from the depths of the earth. It made her sneeze and her eyes water.
Michelle stopped and kept her gaze averted. She couldn’t look in Omar’s eyes, not even for a second. He had the power to fascinate, or hypnotize with his stare. But a quick sideways glance showed that his eyes were not bright yellow any longer. They had turned blood-red.
There was a short shrill scream behind her. Nohea must have seen Omar’s sinister red eyes.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the smoky fog was creeping ever nearer. To her horror, under the black/grey fog on the floor, came spectral hands. They appeared skeleton-like; the fingers long and a grimy bone white. They looked like lethal claws creeping toward her from under the fog, with long, sharp, curved fingernails.
It wasn’t her imagination, seeing those clutching hands. The fingernail/claws actually made noise, clicking against the stone basement floor, scrabbling toward her.
Gotta stay out of those clutching claws, Michelle thought, backing up a few steps. Omar was pulling out all the stops, so she would have to do so as well.
She unsheathed the wicked black knife from her belt. It made a wonderful metal swiping ring-sound as it came out of the sheath.
It was surprising how empowered she felt holding a weapon. She pointed the curved tip of the blade at the ghostly hands that were now moving with sudden, spider-like speed, toward her. They collapsed and vanished.
“So you want to play with knives?” Omar said. He made it sound like this was an amusing game.
“Not really,” Michelle said. It was tricky, holding both the diamond and the knife, keeping them ready to counter attack anything Omar might throw at her.
“I won’t do anything to you,” Michelle said. “If you let the girls go back to Leilanie.”
He gave out a booming laugh. “Did I just hear a threat from a pathetic witch without real power? You couldn’t harm me. Haven’t you learned by now I always get what I want? Those girls are mine.”
There it was, Michelle thought. Omar thought of beautiful live human children as possessions. In his mind they were chattel, to do with as he pleased.
“Don’t you have enough slaves already?” Michelle said. “All those pretty little witchy women in your covens?”
“They come to me of their own volition,” Omar said. “They aren’t slaves.”
“Your contention that they have free will is a crock. The women you enslaved weren’t given a choice, you hypnotized them. And now you’re tearing Shelly and Ivory from their mother. They don’t want to be with you. The girls want to go home to Leilanie.”
“Too bad. I’m their father,” Omar said. “Leilanie isn’t even related to them.”
Michelle glanced behind her to make sure the girls wouldn’t hear what she said next. They were a safe distance, so she added softly, “Well, I’m their mother. And I say they need to go back to Leilanie. Leilanie gave birth to them. She’s raised them. If you’d been a normal father who loved them, they might want to stay.”
“An overrated emotion, love,” Omar said contemptuously. “You want to fight me for them. Then it’s down to knives again. Just remember, you asked for it.”
His arm came out of the fog. In his hand he brandished a knife. But it wasn’t just any knife; it was so long it could be deemed a sword. He swung it around over his head, like he was experimenting with it, and actually cackled a laugh.
Using that thing, Omar could lop off her head.
With Omar’s arm length, and the length of the sword, Michelle knew she didn’t have a chance fighting him. But her knife, tiny in comparison, was weaponized with a destructive spell.
Michelle couldn’t let him get any nearer. Omar’s blade appeared wickedly sharp. But maybe she could activate the spell before he attacked. It worked on the creepy hands, even before she said the magical words. Now she murmured the tricky spell she had memorized.
“Wingardium Leviosa, Avada Kedavra, Seclumsempra.”
As she said the words to bring out the destructive spell, Omar lunged at her like a fencer. The sword/knife was aimed directly at her abdomen, at her baby. She leaped backward and the knife missed by inches.
Michelle was furious. He was trying to hurt the child cradled safely within her body.
But she had noticed something she might be able to use. As Omar lunged forward to strike with the sword, he came out of that black cloud for just a few moments. The fog didn’t move to cover him swiftly enough to envelope his body again immediately. There were a few seconds when he was naked of the foggy protection.
Michelle had to pretend to be afraid. She gave a piercing shriek and turned around to run, trying to lure him into moving fast, leaving the slower moving fog behind.
It worked. He came after her with lightning speed.
She whipped around and held up the diamond, murmuring the magic words again,“Wingardium Leviosa, Avada Kedavra, Seclumsempra.”
Michelle thrust the knife toward Omar, hoping it was now armed. because he was slicing his own knife at her, again and again. She felt a slashing sting. He’d hit her left upper arm. She could feel the wet warmth trickling down to her wrist, onto her hand, making it hard to keep a good hold on the now slippery knife. It hurt like hell and she almost dropped the knife.
Omar stopped abruptly, arm still poised up for another swipe of his sword, as though he was paralyzed. The gray/black foggy stuff started melting away from his body.
Michelle stopped too, suddenly exhausted from adrenaline overload. The knife had evidently worked its magic.
She heard little voices on either side of her. Her daughters were standing with her, one on each side.
“We need to drain him,” Ivory said. “Take the magic out.”
“The Suck and Pull trick,” Shelly said.
“No,” Omar thundered. Evidently the paralysis didn’t affect his vocal cords. “You’ll get too much power. It will kill you.”
Was that the truth, Michelle wondered, afraid for the children.
Before she could say anything her daughters held out both arms toward Omar, little fingers splayed out, and started chanting “Suck, Suck—Pull, Pull,” over and over again.
Watching the effect on Omar, Michelle was reminded of the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz, when she shrieked as Dorothy splashed water on her, “I’m melting, I’m melting…”
Omar wasn’t melting, but he was losing some kind of vital energy, his head bowing down, sword arm slowly sinking. He looked subtly diminished as the red light leached out of his eyes and they were dark again.
The fog that had covered his body was gone.
Michelle had always known Omar was older than he appeared. She didn’t know if that was part of his magic, but now he seemed to shrink, losing muscle tone, his posture bending forward, hunching like an old man. His face was wrinkling before her eyes.
Michelle realized, to her profound relief, that if this magical draining spell the girls were using on Omar was permanent, she wouldn’t have to kill him.
He couldn’t do his destructive works if his energy, vitality, and stamina were gone. Omar would no longer be able to lure women into his covens because of his extraordinary handsome face and superb muscular body.
Omar’s voice croaked, like that of an old person, when he said, “Girls. You are my daughters. Stop now or you will die.”
Michelle felt the girls reach up and grab hold of her hands. They still had one hand stretched out toward Omar, and continued to chant.
The moment her daughters grabbed hold of her hands, Michelle felt a powerful jolt. She could almost imagine each strand of her hair standing straight up on end like she’d been electrocuted. The energy was astonishing.
She suspected the girls intuitively knew what to do to drain off some of the energy they were absorbing from Omar, by giving it to her. And if
she felt this extraordinary power she thought the girls must be glowing with it.
Nohea must have lost control of Lucifer because she felt the cat land on her shoulder with one of his powerful leaps. She turned her head and looked at the little guy. He was receiving the power surge from Omar as well. His hair was standing on end.
Chapter 36
Blood was still gushing from Michelle’s arm. She felt light headed, either from the power flooding into her, or from a copious loss of blood. It was spilling on the floor. She put her hand over the deep cut, but it just kept dripping.
“Enough, girls,” Michelle said finally, as she watched Omar diminish in energy and vitality, turning into an old decrepit man before her eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll gain too much power.”
“He’s drained,” Ivory stated with surprising authority for such a tiny girl.
Shelly nodded. “Totally.”
Michelle wondered how they knew Omar’s power was gone. It was almost scary, contemplating what the girls would be able to do when they grew up. She believed that with Leilanie’s guidance they would learn to be fine women, using their psychic abilities for good, worthy causes, not evil.
Omar was still standing a few feet from her, but he seemed wobbly, like he was having trouble keeping his balance. The sword had vanished, as had the smoky cloud that had surrounded him.
Behind Omar, Michelle saw vague movement. She squinted and Rod appeared from the blackness of the tunnel at the back of the basement. Michelle felt tears spring into her eyes she was so relieved. Behind him came Heather, Mike, and Vincent.
Rod must have immediately recognized that Michelle was in trouble. He pulled his shirt off as he ran to her. When he reached Michelle he quickly used his shirt, tying it around her arm, creating a tourniquet.
“Keep your arm up,” Rod said, “above your heart to prevent more blood loss.”
Then he hugged her. Michelle looked into his eyes and saw them widen in surprise. Evidently he was getting a power surge from the contact. The astonishment on his face made her laugh.
Heather, Mike, and Vincent hurried over to Michelle and formed a protective circle around her and the children, separating them from Omar.
“Girls,” Michelle said urgently. “Touch everyone. Drain off some of the psychic power.”
She didn’t have to explain more. Ivory and Shelly went to Heather first. They each grabbed hold of one of her hands.
“Wow,” Heather said. “Head rush! It’s so cool.”
Ivory and Shelly repeated the hand holding with Mike and Vincent, and they also received the power blast.
“How long will it last?” Vincent asked. “I suddenly feel like a spring chicken, not old and creaky anymore.
Michelle laughed again, “I have no idea. You all received supernatural power leached from Omar to the girls and me.”
“Astonishing,” Mike said.
Omar, meanwhile, had managed to stand a little straighter. He ignored them all and started a shaky and unsteady walk toward where Samson was lying on the floor near the stairs leading up into his mansion.
Everyone moved way back, out of his way. No one wanted to get near him, still a little frightened, even though Omar appeared weakened and astonishingly decrepit and feeble.
Michelle almost felt sorry for him, for a split moment; a nanosecond. He was trying so hard to keep up his aura of total control and dignity as he went slowly past them, not even deigning to glance at any of them, but his body betrayed him. He was weak and couldn’t pull it off. His knees wobbled with each step. His breath was labored and he started wheezing.
She sternly steeled herself against any compassion for Omar, with a kaleidoscope of memories of his destructive acts over the years.
She glanced at Heather. Omar had thrown a lightning bolt that almost killed her. He had caused her to fall on volcanic rocks during a modeling job and she had landed in the hospital. Then one of his witches tried to strangle Heather while she was in the hospital. There was also an incident that Heather couldn’t remember. She had swallowed an almost lethal dose of sleeping pills. Michelle knew Omar had been behind that incident as well. Omar had tried to kill her best friend on numerous occasions, to weaken her.
Michelle glanced over at the professor, Vincent. Omar had dropped him into the sea from his helicopter far from land. He’d done it on purpose, knowing Vincent couldn’t swim a stroke, expecting him to drown.
She looked at Rod. He was still injured because Omar ordered Samson to kill him. The love of her life had almost died just a few days ago.
As for Michelle herself, she remembered the ghastly night when Omar changed her life forever, before she even knew he existed. Omar ordered Samson to sneak into the hotel room in Las Vegas where she was staying for a few nights, and rape her. She was so badly hurt she was in the hospital for weeks and lost the ability to have children.
And then there were the children. Bright, beautiful, and psychic. They would grow up knowing their own father had kidnapped them and tried to take them from the only mother they had ever known. If that wasn’t traumatic enough, they now, even at their young age, realized he was an evil man. They would live with that knowledge forever, understanding that a part of their DNA and genetics came from a psychopathic monster.
These were the personal things Michelle thought of as she watched Omar move unsteadily toward the stairs. But there were countless people he had harmed in his lifetime. The women in his covens who were compelled to be virtual slaves to his wishes. The thousands of people who were addicted to harmful drugs he put into the ‘witchy’ concoctions that he sold for exorbitant amounts of money, not for their benefit, but to add to his own immense wealth.
They all watched as Omar finally reached Samson. He nudged Samson with his foot. When Samson didn’t awaken, Omar gave him several sharp kicks in the ribs.
Samson curled up in pain for a moment and then looked up at Omar. His eyes widened as he got up slowly, staring at the diminished and weak man whom he had idolized. Then Samson took Omar’s arm and helped him up the stairs into the mansion. They heard the door bang shut and the lock click.
“Let’s get out of here!” Rod said.
They all nodded agreement and turned to go back through the basement to the tunnel.
Nohea, who had been standing back watching, came over to them. “Can I come with you?”
“Of course,” Michelle said, as they moved quickly through the awful slimy and smelly underground basement. “You really helped us.”
“Will anyone try to stop us from getting away with the children, do you think?” Heather asked as they began the trek through the dark, creepy passageway through the mountain.
“Omar’s too weak,” Michelle said, her voice echoing eerily in the rocky tunnel space. “Samson, though, is a possibility. We’ll just have to watch out for him. The witches don’t have any real power.”
“I tried to get hold of Guy, so he could meet us at the top of the stairs,” Mike said. “But there’s no cell power underground. And anyway, his cell died. He was trying to charge it using the battery in the Jeep.”
When they got to the stairs going up the cliff to the road, Rod picked up Shelly. The steps were too far apart for her little legs. Mike carried Ivory up the stairs. Everyone else followed single file.
It was a dark night but they were all glad to be outside. The salty ocean breeze was refreshing after the dank, bitter, underground odors. The stars were bright above and the moon was shining on the water below, lighting the way up.
“We’re going to have to go past Omar’s place to get to the Jeep,” Rod said when they all made it up the zigzagging stairway and climbed up to the road.
They stood there looking at Omar’s fortress. It was lit up like a Christmas tree across the street.
Vincent was grumbling. The surge of psychic power he had received from the girls had left him. His legs were aching. Mike agreed, stating that the power must have dissipated while they went through the subterranean tunnel
.
“It was nice, while it lasted,” Heather said a little sadly.
Michelle didn’t feel any loss of power. Maybe she had a psychic repository or something that stored the energy. She felt like she could do jumping back-flips, no problem, and she wondered if the girls had kept some power as well, since they were magically inclined already.
They skirted around Omar’s place as far away as they could, when the front door suddenly opened. In the lighted doorway, Samson was highlighted. He was holding a gun.
He ran down the driveway, waving it at them, making loud noises inarticulately. He stopped and aimed. The gun blasted in their direction, an excruciatingly loud explosion.
They all crouched down, covering their heads. “Hide,” Rod shouted, leading the way into the brush at the side of the road.
At almost the same time, they saw oncoming headlights in the distance, moving down the road toward them.
Samson saw the car coming too, and he stopped abruptly. He looked around, then turned and hurried back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
“Don’t move,” Mike cautioned. “If that’s the police, we’re stealing Omar’s children.”
Mike was right, Michelle thought. Omar was legally the children’s father. Leilanie was on the birth certificate as their mother. The police saw parental abductions pretty regularly. They weren’t that uncommon. But in this case they would only conclude the children were being abducted by strangers. An extremely serious crime.
Even though she was Shelly and Ivory’s biological mother, Michelle had no legal right to take them.
The people in the house could tell the police that they kidnapped the children from their father.
From their hiding places in the bushes they watched as the large vehicle passed them and turned into Omar’s driveway. They all noted it had Kauai Police Department embossed on the side panels, and bright lights on top of the all-terrain SUV.
There was a long uncomfortable wait squatting in the deep foliage for the police to get out of their car and walk up the drive. Finally, after knocking several times, the door opened and they went inside.
Magical Legacy Page 24
