Sabina moved further into the kitchen, turned a chair backward and straddled it, throwing the bottom of her cloak behind her so it wouldn’t be in the way.
Silas looked from one sister to the next. Neither of them was giving anything away. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he interrupted their stare off. “One of you want to clue me in?”
“It’s simple really. I want Seraphina back.”
“Gran is gone, Sabina. She can’t come back.”
“Oh, that’s where you're wrong. I’ve already ensured she will return.” Her eyes moved from Gwen’s face down to her stomach.
“No.” Silas finally caught on.
Sabina stood. Righted the chair and pushed it under the table. “We should get this over with. I have a killer costume for tonight. Don’t want to miss all the free candy, and terrorizing children.”
She moved toward Gwen and Silas, but before they could use their gifts to stop her, Sabina had them under her control, using powers she hid from everyone her entire life. He wondered for a moment if her grandmother even knew about them. Sabina was clearly a death watcher. She was a void. That’s how she was able to get through the defenses.
“Why?” Silas heard Gwen cry out.
“Because I can. I used the belly blessing to ensure our grandmother’s resurrection. Your child will be Seraphina. She will be marvelous, and you’re never going to know her.”
“You can’t kill your sister, Sabina.”
“Of course, not. However, I can keep her far away from this child.”
Several of the men outside began to move into the small house. They grabbed hold of Silas and pulled him to the living room. He tried to use his powers against them, but it was no use. They were empty shells. Golems created by dark magic. Silas pulled against the men. He managed to free an arm, but found himself pinned down by even more hands. He tried to attack Sabina, but she put up a shield between the two rooms. His gifts were not as strong as Gwen’s. He wondered why she didn’t fight her sister.
“Gwen, honey. Don’t let her do this,” he cried from the other room. Gwen’s back was to him, her words muffled as Sabina made her stand at her will.
Four of the men grabbed Gwen by her arms and sides. Gwen screamed in pain. A contraction.
“Gwen.” He pulled against the hands holding him down and got a foot in his abdomen for his trouble. He coughed blood from his mouth. With his hands pinned to his sides, it was left free to run-down his chin.
“Don’t you know a birth on All Hallows Eve is precious? Your child is going to be the strongest witch ever to walk the Earth, and I don’t even hear a thank you.” Sabina’s eyes started to glow red.
“I will never thank you,” Gwen said as she fought through the contractions. From the look on her face, they were increasing in strength. Silas tapped into her. Her wall was down so he could feel her. He reached out with his mind.
Why are you not fighting her?
I can’t. The pain. It’s…too much. It’s like it’s blocking my power.
You need to focus.
I’m trying. Silas, I’m scared.
He watched her as her stomach tensed and the contraction hit. She didn’t have her wall down because she wanted him to be able to hear her. She had it down because her gifts had left her.
“What’s the matter, Si? Did nobody tell you that our gifts leave us during childbirth? A child must be born with their own gifts. Not the mother’s.” Sabina looked back to her sister and tapped her in the shin with her boot. “Not the all-powerful high priestess, now are you? Come on, sis, it can’t be all that bad.”
Sabina crouched down on her heels and looked into her sister’s face. Gwen’s eyes were scrunched tightly shut. She was grimacing in pain. Her arms hugging her stomach as she lay flat on the kitchen floor.
“Something’s wrong.” Silas saw the sweat forming on her brow. He moved against the hands that held him again, but couldn’t budge.
“What is it? Gwen?” Without another word, Gwen passed out. “You bitch. If anything happens to them, I’ll slit your throat,” he screamed across the room.
Sabina didn’t acknowledge her brother-in-law. She moved to the counter and pulled several knives from the block on the counter. She moved to her sister with the smallest of the collection and touched it with the tips of her fingers. It turned beat red. Silas’ eyes went wide, as he realized what she was about to do.
“Don’t do it. You’ll kill them both.”
Sabina lifted the black and white striped shirt Gwen wore. Placed the tip of the paring knife to the lowest area of her stomach and looked at Silas as she dragged the knife against her sister’s skin. Blood beaded to the surface of the incision then began to dribble down and across her abdomen. Some of it landed on her black stretch pants and soaked into the waist band. The rest fell to the floor in a puddle. Sabina repeated the movement again and again with just the tip of the blade. When she dropped it to the floor, Silas watched in horror as the girl used both of her hands to pull apart Gwen’s skin. He could hear the tissue being ripped apart and grimaced. Then she thrust her hands into Gwen's stomach and when she pulled them back out, he could see she was holding two skinny legs in her hands.
Silas struggled against his captors again. “Let me be with her. Please, just let me hold her.” Tears, hot and wet flowed down his face, clouding his vision.
Sabina gave a slight nod in his direction and the hands that held him down lifted him to his feet. He was dragged to Gwen’s side and plopped down on the floor next to his wife’s unresponsive body.
He gagged as Sabina reached her arms, up to her elbows into her sister’s stomach. When the chest and then a shoulder came loose, Silas let a sigh escape. He’d been holding his breath. Then the second shoulder and finally a head. Sabina moved a long thin snake thing from around his daughter’s throat and freed her body from being tangled in it. The umbilical cord. He thought for a minute.
Silas felt his hand go free and he grabbed Gwen, pulling her to his lap and wiped the blood from his face. “Why isn’t she crying?”
Sabina snapped a finger at one of her creations. He produced a pair of scissors from the block Sabina had found the knife in. She cut the cord, severing the connection between mother and child. Then produced a pink blanket from inside her cloak. The blanket she’d gotten for the baby, with the bunny rabbit on it, and wrapped the baby inside. She rubbed the newborn’s chest and a loud sharp wail erupted amongst the quiet in the house.
Silas held Gwen, petting her hair, keeping it from her face. His clothes became soaked with blood while he sat there. His wife’s blood. She was cold. Her body still not moving. Sabina held the baby close to her and got up from the floor.
“What about Gwen? You can’t leave her like this, she’ll die. They both will.”
“She has her powers back. When she wakes, she can heal herself. I don’t plan on being here so she can attack me. No, I think I’ll go now. Wouldn’t want to upset the baby.” She sauntered out and called back, “Your powers should be enough to start her off.”
“I swear to the Gaia, we will find you. We will get our daughter back.”
“Good luck with that. For what I have in mind, you won’t be going anywhere, let alone to find me. Enjoy your forever, together. See you in about eighteen years. Then I can finally finish off my sister. The fun thing about that? Her own daughter will be the one to help me do it.”
“What? What do you mean? Wait. Bring back my baby.” The choice between staying with Gwen and going after his child was a hard one. He looked at Gwen. She seemed lifeless. Her abdomen still open where Sabina cut the baby from her. Blood covered the floor. So much blood. He tried to get up and slipped in it. Silas moved to Gwen’s face. He kissed her open mouth, her eyes, and then both of her cheeks. “Please, wake up. I need you. You can’t die. I can’t lose you. Gwen!” He moved his hand to her midsection and began to heal her, but it wouldn’t be enough. His tears ran hot. His vision clouded, then he was sitting at the table in
front of a plate of pancakes.
Gwen slid the crib box over to Silas. He put his fork down and looked at it, then his plate. “But I have pancakes,” he said to her as she pointed to the box.
“Nope, your daughter comes first. Then breakfast.” She moved back to the stove.
“Wait. What’s happening?” He looked around the kitchen.
“What is happening, is your putting that crib together today mister. So, get to it.” She moved back to the stove, flipped a pancake and turned to watch him.
“No. That’s not it. Something else is going on.” He moved the box and leaned it against the table. He moved to Gwen and slide his arms around her. He nudged her hair from her neck and kissed her, then his eyes moved to the window.
“This can’t be happening.”
“What?”
“I…” He spun around looking at the floor. He saw red. “Blood.”
“What? Are you okay?” Gwen put the spatula down and turned the flame off on the stove. She stood in front of him and grabbed the sides of his face in her hands. “Look at me. What’s going on?”
“We’ve done this. You were dying. She took the baby.” He put his hands on her stomach. His daughter kicked at her mother’s insides.
“Oh, did you feel that?”
“I did. She’s trying to tell me something.”
“How, I bound her powers. She can’t use them till her eighteenth birthday.”
“No, Gwen. I’m telling you. Something is off.” He moved to the window. No black figures loomed, no evil sister.
“Your sister was here. You went into labor. The baby was stuck. She cut her from you. Left you on the floor to bleed to death.” He wiped his face with his hand.
“Silas, you're scaring me.”
“I’m scared!” When Gwen jumped Silas caught himself. She put his hands down and sat back in his chair. “I’m sorry.” He covered his face with his hands. Resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what is happening.”
“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Chapter XXXIV
When Ophelia left the house, she decided she needed a little bit of a break from the happy couple. She went to a small coffee house in the town of Dublin, ordered an espresso and sat at a quiet table outside. She looked at the display windows, they were decorated with pumpkins and witches. The kind with black pointy hats and green faces, that rode on brooms. She sneered at the displays and looked out to the street. Small children in the hands of their mothers walked from store to store in an array of costumes. She could hear the way the plastic swished when they walked by and their muffled voices trying to talk to their parent through the plastic mask with three holes; two for seeing and one for breathing.
A little boy in a superman outfit jumped next to her, his mother apologized and grabbed his hand. The child went off with her yelling “Trick-or-treat, smell my feet.” Ophelia couldn’t help grin and a laugh. That was something her and her friends hadn’t been able to do in some time. One month.
It had been one month since everyone had left the three of them to that house. She wasn’t complaining, but she felt like a third wheel half the time. They told her if she wanted to leave that she could, but she refused. She would stay until the baby was born, but then she would move to town, with Hex and Finis. She could deliver their groceries and visit them just as much as the boys. She had the foresight to know if anyone was following her. Her gifts, though few were extensive. If she concentrated hard enough she could tell if anyone were trying to tail her. If that ever happened she could just veer off course.
Ophelia ran her hand over her sleek bob and placed the two coins in her hand on the table before getting up and making her way to the market across the street. A few doors down was the baby store she frequented as well. She would get what she needed and drive back. Having a little alone time was probably good for the expecting parents as well. With the due date come and gone, she couldn’t help to think about how little of that they were surely going to get in the future.
The town was quiet for early afternoon. Besides a few more colorful characters, Ophelia got the sense that something dark was hanging over them. As she stepped off the curb into the street she changed direction. She found where she parked the car. She jumped in and started the ignition, hardly pausing before she lurched it into drive and took off. Making the little Honda squeal as she went.
The drive to the house was too quiet and too long. Of course, they had to be far away from everything. The distance just from the road was enough to drive her insane. Three miles felt like thirty. By the time she’d gotten to the house and flew from the car she was almost in tears. A vision hit her as she touched the doorknob to open it. Blood flashed before her eyes. A lightning of sorts and a wicked laugh rang in her ears.
When she stepped into the house, all was gone. Like she’d stepped through an invisible veil. “Gwen? Silas?” She ran through the living room then took the stairs two at a time which was no easy feat for her height. On the last two steps, she missed and fell hard to the stair, hitting her head. She laid there for what felt like only a moment. Closing her eyes to the pain at her brow. She rubbed a hand against it and it felt warm and sticky.
“Silas?” She felt sleepy, and succumbed to it, only to wake a fraction of a minute later as Silas laid a hand against her head. “Silas? Where were you guys?”
“We’re here, but not the way we were when you left.”
“What does that even mean?” She tried to sit up, but couldn’t. She lifted her head and saw the scene before her. Gwen was on the floor of the kitchen, her abdomen bleeding profusely, a large puddle of blood had already formed under her. Her eyes were shut, and she didn’t look like she was breathing. Ophelia cried out and tried to sit again.
“It’s no use. You can’t help and you don’t have to. She’ll be fine in a moment. Until it starts all over again.”
Ophelia looked from Gwen to Silas and back again. “What…how?”
“Sabina. She was here. She took the baby and left her sister like that. Shouldn’t be long now. We need your help Ophe. I don’t know what this is, but in a moment Gwen and I will be at the very moment we were in when you left the house this morning. Then I’m going to be made to watch that happen all over again. It’s already happened four times. I don’t think I can cry anymore. My heart is pounding.” He pushed at his temples.
“I don’t understand.” She tried to move again. “Why can’t I get up?” She laid her head back against the step.
“Because you’re not with us. Wake up, Ophelia.”
Ophelia shot up from the steps. Her hand went to the blood on her head and the pain made her wince. She looked over at the floor in the kitchen where Gwen had been laying. “Was that a vision?”
She scurried down from the stairs and headed into the kitchen. Pulling a small cast-iron pot from one of the open-faced cabinets she placed it on the stove. Then began pulling herbs and ingredients from another. Pulling the tops from the containers she started throwing everything together in the pot, lit the stove and stirred. Three drops of oil mixed with yarrow, mug-wart, and jasmine, with a pinch on anise. The mixture began to form a dense fog over the top. She pulled a ladle from a holder on the counter and a large bowl from the strainer. Moving the pancake batter to the sink she scooped up the potion from the pot and placed it in the bowl.
Ophelia took the bowl to the coffee table. Placed around it three large pillar candles and a smudge of lavender and basil. After lighting the smudge, she placed it on a thick glass plate in the middle of the table and lit the candles. She then sat in between the sofa and the table Indian style so her knees kissed the bottom of the table.
“I ask for the peace of mind to hone my divination. To allow the occupants of this home to appear before me. Gaia, I ask of you what I may never have before, that you would show me a way to save one of your own.” She picked up the bowl and drank the contents. Though it had been cooling for a while, it seeped steam up into her no
strils as she downed the concoction. Once it was gone she placed her hands on her knees, palms up and closed her eyes to welcome the vision.
The air shifted, the light outside dimmed. A haze settled over the room. Ophelia looked around at the space. The candles were gone, as was the smudge stick. An indication that she’d entered into the vision. She stood, tested her bearings before heading out into the kitchen. She saw it then. The blood splattered the floor. Gwen lay unresponsive, her stomach beginning to heal, but not enough to stop the bleeding. Silas held her head in his lap, smoothing her hair away from her face. He was rocking side to side, but didn’t look at her. He stared out the kitchen window, humming to himself or to his wife. She couldn't tell.
Ophelia tested the vision by laying a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the touch and turned around, keeping Gwen secure in his lap as he did.
“Not yet. Wait five more minutes. Then she can talk to you.”
“Silas?”
“Just wait!” Tears streaked his face, but his sobs were silent. He bent his face over her with his eyes closed and kissed Gwen’s forehead, then resumed looking out the window. “Five more minutes,” he said once more.
Ophelia knelt down next to Gwen. She touched the tips of her fingers to the girl’s wrist. It wasn’t very strong, but a pulse throbbed. Gwen was alive. Just unconscious. Her shirt was pushed up under her breasts. Her pants moved down to the top of her pelvis, in an effort to expose her abdomen. Ophelia moved Gwen’s shirt down to cover the wound. It was still stitching closed.
“Is she healing herself?”
Silas didn’t respond. He just kept humming, tears still falling from his eyes. The sun started to move down towards the horizon. Silas turned to look at Ophelia. “It’s almost at an end. I know she won’t stay this way, but I can’t help the tears. My heart breaks every time.”
“Every time, what?”
“Every time, time resets.”
Ophelia gave him a confused look, but then the air shifted. She turned around to look at the sun which was just about to set, but started to lift back up into the sky. The blood soaking the floor absorbed into the tile. Gwen’s shirt became a cleaner version of its self. Her stomach stitched closed and once the wound was gone, it filled once again with the life that was taken from her, like a balloon inflating. Silas’ clothes were free of blood as well. The speckles on his shirt, as well as the blood from his pants and hands, also gone. His tears dried up. Then as if someone had hit a rewind button, they both began to move backward in time, until they were back where it all started.
Turning the Stone (The Blood Rites Trilogy Book 2) Page 20
