Born of Shadows- Complete Series

by J. R. Erickson

  "Did Victor find the other Guerrilla Witches too?"

  "Yep."

  "And he found them the same way? A sense?"

  "Pretty much. Why don't you trust him, Oliver?"

  "It's not that I don't trust him," Oliver told her, telling a small lie. In truth, he didn't trust Victor. Ever since he took Abby into the Vepar's lair, he'd questioned Victor's intentions.

  "Don't bullshit me," Ezra said, sitting up and swinging her legs over the bed. She slid her shorts up and buttoned them, grabbing her crumpled sweatshirt from the floor. She slipped it on, braless, and turned to face him.

  Oliver sat up and sighed.

  "Okay sure, I don't trust him. I have questions about him, but that's not why I'm here with you. I want to be with you, Ezra. I've wanted to know you since the first time we met."

  "What if I were sitting here grilling you about Abby? How forthcoming would you be, Oliver? Or about Helena? Or Faustine?"

  "I have nothing to hide regarding any of them. And I'm not defensive about it either. I'm curious why you are?"

  Ezra put on her boots, zipping them quickly and angrily.

  "I need some air," she told him.

  After she left, he lay in bed for another few minutes, contemplating his next move. He could follow her, but Ezra did not seem like the type of woman who wanted a man to rescue her. He felt, instead, that he was getting closer to what lay at the heart of her defensiveness. He had to prove himself trustworthy. He couldn't run away when she started to flinch from him.

  ****

  Lydie unwrapped the twine and reclined on her bed. Garfield curled up next to her feet and tried to distract her with long kitty stretches and copious purring.

  "I promise, I'll give you a good long petting after I read these. Deal?"

  The cat surveyed her with curiosity and then indifference when she did not begin to pet him.

  She opened the first letter and realized they were love letters between the Lourdes, or Milda, and Alva, then known as Ira.

  She read the first one and set it aside, disappointed.

  It was unlikely she would stumble upon anything of value in a bunch of sappy love letters. Sure, they made for interesting reading, particularly because she knew the futures that had waited for those two troubled souls. In the letter, Milda spoke of her daughter, Delphia. She described how her hair looked like fresh honey and when she laughed the flowers bloomed brighter. Lydie had not known the Lourdes, but her story was a cautionary tale at Ula and evidence of how even a powerful witch and seer could be tricked by dark magic.

  Lydie read the letters quickly, skipping the mushy parts and making faces of disgust when she read Ira's poetry of devotion.

  "Two-faced liar," she whispered under her breath, startling Garfield who gave her a reproachful look before returning to his nap.

  As she opened the next one, a little sheet of paper fell from within the stack.

  She smoothed the paper on her lap.

  It was not a letter, but a series of names with dates next to each and the same notation: dead. Lydie read the names, recognizing several from the night that Victor had explained Abby's and his ancestry and their ultimate connections to Dafne. According to the note, every single female descendant was dead except for the Lourdes, Abby's mother, and Abby. The Lourdes had scrawled something on the bottom of the page. "I will be next and then Abby's mother and Abby with child last of all. Kanti must kill us all."

  Chapter 25

  "I'm so sorry," Elda told Nora, after she revealed Eugene's murder.

  Nora nodded.

  "I've had a long time to accept it. Not that acceptance is the right word. The sheer devastation has dulled. I can speak of it now. For years..." She shook her head. "That was only the beginning, of course. When we returned to Serpent House, our home was on fire."

  "Clyde?"

  "Yes, though we hadn't made the connection. We were all in grief and shock. My grandfather and some of the older witches went on the offense and they knew it was Clyde within a day or two, but I could barely get out of bed. My mother made arrangements for us to rent a house on the mainland. Some of the other witches stayed with relatives. By the time my grandfather realized who was at fault, Clyde and Meghan had fled."

  "Why did Meghan take Clyde? She must have been so angry with him?" Julian wondered out loud.

  "Back then, I felt the same way. I hated Meghan for shielding Clyde. I thought she was an abomination. Of course, we're given opportunities in this life to see the other side of the story. After I had children, I understood. A part of me still wanted to hate her, but you never love anyone so much as your children, and the truth is that no matter the monstrosities they commit, you continue to love them. You can't help it. It is greater than you. Do you have children, Elda?"

  "No," Elda said, shaking her head and trying not to reveal the sadness in her heart.

  Nora gave her a smile and a nod.

  "Meghan took him and ran. My coven hunted for them. My grandfather reached out to every witch he knew. He wanted justice for Eugene."

  "But that was not all?" Julian asked.

  "No, Clyde stole things from our coven. Ancient magical items of great value. We believe he staged the fire to cover his tracks, but our home had spells that protected it from a complete burning. He did damage, surely, but the house did not crumble."

  "What did he take?" Elda asked.

  Nora sighed. She leaned forward, with effort, and reached for the jade frog. She stroked it gently and the green shimmered beneath her touch.

  Ellen walked in a moment later.

  "Everything okay?" she asked. She walked to Nora and replaced her water glass with a fresh one and handed her a dish of peeled apples.

  "Ellen, my dear, could you bring me my scrapbook?"

  "Of course," Ellen told her, leaning down and planting a kiss on top of her head. "More coffee?" she asked Julian and Elda.

  "No, thank you," Elda told her.

  Ellen left but returned quickly with a large square album. She placed it in Nora's lap. After she left, Nora wheeled closer to Elda and Julian. She flipped through the pages and stopped on a large black and white photograph of a painting.

  "We had a painter in our coven. Louis, he came from Paris. A very talented witch. He painted many portraits of Serpent House, but most of them were destroyed in the fire. We managed to save this one. The original hangs upstairs. You can see it if you like, but this is a photo of that painting."

  Elda and Julian leaned over the picture. Nora did not have to point out the item she intended to show them. Julian spotted it immediately.

  "The amulet," he said, placing his finger on the necklace. It hung around a young woman's slender neck. She wore a dress, buttoned high, and the jeweled snake rested on the pale fabric over her chest.

  "You've seen it?"

  "Yes, unfortunately, we have."

  "My mother is wearing it in this portrait. My father hated it. It had come to us by accident. A ship wrecked a hundred miles from our island. One morning, my grandfather found a wooden box half buried on our beach. Inside, he found this amulet, a stash of precious gems and books from Egypt. He started to research the ouroboros. He discovered that men in Egypt believed these symbols granted their owner everlasting life. Within the alchemy of this snake, magic had already been bestowed. My mother found it mysterious and romantic, but my father believed it held dark spirits. My grandfather, ever the scientist, wanted to understand its magical properties. None of us had ever met a witch from Egypt and we were all curious. Eugene began to study the amulet with my grandfather. That is how Clyde learned of it."

  "And Clyde became obsessed?" Julian asked.

  Nora nodded.

  "Eugene confided in my grandfather that Clyde was stealing his notes on the ouroboros. He asked many questions of Eugene. He wanted to know about immortality. Could a man become immortal? Obviously, Eugene did not have answers, but he grew concerned about Clyde's mental health. He wondered if his brother was going in
sane."

  "What did your grandfather believe?"

  "Initially, he thought Eugene may have been right and Clyde merely suffered a weak mind, but later, after he met him, he felt differently. He told Eugene that Clyde was filled with hatred and lust. He encouraged Eugene to seal his vow with the Serpent House and cut ties with his brother. My grandfather knew that Clyde was dangerous."

  "And Meghan did not recognize the darkness in her child?"

  "Clyde manipulated her. He knew she suffered enormous guilt for the pain her non-magical child had endured. She could never do enough to make it right. She preferred Eugene and Clyde knew. She couldn't help it. She loved Clyde too and wanted desperately to prove as much. He made sure to give her plenty of opportunities. He still maintained a weak personality when Meghan was around. I saw it with my own eyes. In the presence of others, he was arrogant, boastful, cruel even, but for Meghan, he was petulant and slow. You see, Clyde had Meghan's power. She did things for him, gave him things. She needed to make up for the deficit, so she spoiled him with her magic."

  "And now she's trapped in purgatory for it," Julian murmured.

  "She's what? Do you mean to tell me that Meghan lives?" Nora asked, sitting straighter in her chair.

  "Yes, I did not see her with my own eyes, but she is imprisoned in a world that she created in Australia. She built it to confine Clyde, but somehow he escaped and trapped her instead."

  Nora scowled.

  "Sometimes, I still believe that it was all her fault. She was a powerful witch, an unnatural witch. Eugene told me stories, amazing stories. I cannot believe that she lives. You know what that means, though, don't you?"

  Julian shook his head.

  "That Clyde lives as well."

  ****.

  Lydie strode into the kitchen where Helena and Bridget stood over a wedding cake magazine.

  "I think the yellow flowers, surely. Abby and Sebastian have a love meant for the sunshine," Bridget enthused.

  "I was thinking an ashy pink color, Bridge. I mean let's be real here, their courtship has been a dance between dark and light. Don't we want to honor that?"

  "I found something," Lydie said, holding the paper up in triumph.

  "Or maybe this satiny pearl color? It's void of color, yes, but there will be so many other flowers..."

  "Hello? I said I found something important! Or have I become invisible now too?"

  Helena and Bridget both looked up, surprised.

  Helena dropped the magazine and hurried to Lydie.

  "Oh Lydie, I'm sorry. We've just been so caught up in the wedding plans that..."

  "That you forgot there was a curse that might destroy all of our lives at any moment? That we're the only ones that can stop it, but hey, let's worry about wedding cake instead," Lydie fumed and turned on her heel.

  The kitchen door slammed and she stalked down the hallway.

  "Lydie," Helena called, following her. "Honey, stop, please."

  Lydie stopped.

  She wanted to keep walking. But she simply could not blow off Helena. Helena was the most loving, gentle person she had ever known. Even in her moments of greatest frustration, she never blamed Helena.

  "I'm sorry," Helena whispered, touching her shoulder from behind. "I am so very sorry. Can we take a walk? Go to the floating garden? I want to hear what you've discovered and perhaps I could tell you more about Australia."

  Lydie nodded, feeling some of her anger dissipate at Helena's touch.

  They left the castle and walked to the floating garden. As always, it was in full bloom. The flowers, fragrant and dazzling, shifted toward them as they left the stone stairway.

  Lydie thrust the paper into Helena's hands and walked to the lemon tree that her mother had planted. The tree only stood a few feet high, but it burst with lemons. Lydie tugged one off and held it to her nose, inhaling the scent.

  She watched Helena as her eyes scanned the page, her brow furrowed. She chewed her lower lip, and Lydie could see as she read the names, her eyes darted again and again to the conclusion that the Lourdes had scrawled across the bottom. "She must kill us all."

  "I think it means that the only way to end the curse is to kill everyone in her family," Lydie announced. "Everyone that descended from her."

  "All of these names are women," Helena murmured, still going back and forth to dates and names. "If that's true, it would mean every single female descendant of Kanti and Clyde are dead except for Abby and her mother."

  "I know." Lydie's moment of self-satisfaction at finding the note had departed. Fear had replaced her pride and she suddenly wanted to be back in Florida where curses and Vepars and spirits of the dead did not exist. It was a paradoxical feeling for her. She had never been anything but a witch and didn't know another life. Could she ever truly leave it behind?

  "We need to show this to Faustine," Helena started.

  "Wait." Lydie said. "I need to know what happened in Australia."

  ****

  Oliver intercepted Ezra on her way back to the loft. She had changed into running clothes and wore gray pants, drenched with sweat, and a loose-fitting black-t-shirt cut wide and jagged around her collarbones. She nearly walked passed him, but stopped when he held up two cups of coffee.

  "Coffee?" He shook a paper bag. "And croissants."

  Wiping an arm across her sweaty face, she lifted one of the coffees from the cardboard container and took a scalding sip.

  "Mmmm, thanks."

  She didn't walk into the building, but instead ducked behind a trash can and emerged less than a minute later dry and fully clothed in jean shorts cut just above her knee and a long-sleeved t-shirt.

  "That's a trick I have yet to learn," he told her, surveying her outfit.

  "I'm on the go a lot, it's worthwhile for me to conjure clothes on the fly. I originally did it to help homeless people, but realized I could benefit as well."

  "You'll have to teach me."

  She nodded and took another sip of her coffee.

  "You're right, I'm defensive," she started. "And the truth is that I haven't been here for a while, relating to someone intimately, if you will." She laughed. "Listen to me, I sound like I've spent too much time with a shrink."

  "Have you?"

  She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  "In another life, sure. How do you think I became so well adjusted?"

  He laughed and handed her a croissant.

  "I live with Victor and the other Guerrilla witches, but I'm on my own, we all are. There's an understanding in our kind of community. We don't tell, judge, spread misinformation. I don't have dinner with Victor every night. Sometimes I don't see him for days. He may take off without telling anyone where he's going. I do it too, and it's important to me to feel safe with my friends. I need to trust them for this carefully constructed world we've created to work. You dig?"

  "Yeah, I do."

  He got it, but he didn't at the same time. He didn't live in that world. He trusted his coven completely. He had trusted Dafne even as she sewed the seeds of her own destruction.

  "But silence is a choice too, Ezra. You're a witch, a witch who's devoted her life to helping others. Would you allow Victor to undermine that because you don't want to rock the boat?"

  "I've been rocking the boat my entire life, Oliver," she snapped. "This isn't a matter of trying to play it safe. I'm doing my best here. But yes, sure, Victor has been different lately. He's been vacant, physically and mentally."

  "Have you asked him why?"

  Ezra shrugged.

  "No. I've asked Kendra and she thinks he's become a bit obsessed with the curse on Abby and Sebastian. She thinks he wants to save the day and find out how to break it."

  "But you don't think so?"

  Ezra sighed and shoved the rest of the croissant in her mouth as if it might save her from saying what was on her mind.

  "I've been around a lot of darkness in my life. It's a courtship, a dance and when the devil ensnares you, it's hard to b
reak away."

  ****

  "It's Victor," Oliver told Faustine.

  He stood on the curb watching car brake lights shining from the slick Chicago pavement. It wasn't raining so much as misting. Chicago's rush hour traffic made him long for northern Michigan. He had told Ezra that he needed to check in with Ula and ducked out of the loft to make the call. He and Faustine had pre-planned the contact so that Faustine could take a boat to the mainland where he had cell service.

  "Are you sure?" Faustine asked, sounding unsurprised.

  "Well, I haven't laid eyes on it, but yes. I saw a memory of Kendra's that revealed something that I believe was the amulet. And Ezra says he's been acting strangely."

  "Okay," Faustine said. "Don't confront him. I'm formulating a plan. Elda and Julian have flown to Montana to speak to a witch from Serpent House and they will return tonight."

  "The wedding is next week," Oliver reminded him.

  "Exactly, we'll have all of the witches here, Victor included."

  "You plan to confront him at Abby's wedding?"

  "Of course not," Faustine said, a note of irritation in his voice. "But it is an ideal opportunity after the wedding is over."

  "I see." Oliver heard a car honk and watched a woman stick her hand out her car window and flip her middle finger at a truck driver. "I'll be back tomorrow as well and I told Lydie we could stay with Abby and Sebastian for a couple of days."

  "Good, Lydie's found something concerning and we should discuss it."

  "What's that?" Oliver asked, glancing back toward the building. He didn't want Ezra to overhear his conversation.

  "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

  Chapter 26

  Abby opened the door to Lydie and Oliver, their arms filled with magazines.

  "Are we scrapbooking?" She laughed, inviting them in.

  "I wish," Oliver grumbled. "Helena and Bridget have marked about fifty million pages and we have to send her your feedback on flowers, decorations, and seating by tomorrow.