Blackheath Resurrection (The Blackheath Witches Book 2)

by Gabriella Lepore

“Oh, we’re going back in,” Ainsley said firmly, rising to his feet and brushing his flaxen curls from his eyes. “This hasn’t told us anything yet. Other than that Dad was a jerk, but that’s old news.”

  “And that they hung out with Jefferson Fallows way back when,” Evan muttered. “That’s something we didn’t know before.”

  “What do you say, Pip?” Joel asked, crouching to the ground. “Can you try one more time?”

  The toddler looked up at Joel brightly. “Witch five,” he said. “Gether peak.”

  Joel pursed his lips. “Then let’s do this. We’ve got to keep following the trail. We didn’t take on this spell to watch our parents play teen movie.” He stood and reached for Evan’s and Kaden’s hands. “Let’s go.”

  And they began again.

  EVANGELINE STOOD AT the bungalow’s front window and gazed out onto the dusky downtown street. Car headlamps occasionally illuminated the darkened road as they sped past, but other than that, the street was quiet.

  She rocked the tiny baby in her arms, only a few months old and more precious and wonderful than anything she could have imagined. She kissed his head as he slept soundly and tucked the soft blue shawl closer. Behind her in the living room, another child rolled a truck along the threadbare carpet, his blonde hair catching the glint of lamplight.

  “Evan,” she whispered fondly to the one-year-old. “And Joel,” she murmured to the sleeping baby in her arms. “My good boys.”

  Again she kissed the top of Joel’s head. Weary, she stepped back from the window and carefully lowered herself onto the sofa, trying not to disturb the baby in her arms.

  Evangeline’s gaze wandered to the most recent family photo that sat framed on the mantelpiece. She and Maximus smiled joyfully from the still frame, with Evan beside her on the hospital bed and newborn Joel in her arms. It felt like barely an hour had passed since that day, and yet equally it felt as though there had been no life before it.

  Family, she thought, lost in the photograph.

  There they were, her beginning and her end. She needed no more and no less than what she had right at that very moment. It was her parents, her relatives, her friends who were missing out. They had become estranged when she’d begun her life with Maximus. But they didn’t know him; they didn’t see how much he loved her. They judged him because he was different. Why couldn’t they see that Maximus wouldn’t ruin her life? That he would only make it better?

  She heard keys twist in the lock and the front door opened, letting in a burst of cold November air.

  “Eve!” Maximus called into the hallway.

  “In here, love,” she replied in a hushed voice so as not to wake the baby.

  Maximus stepped into their humble living room. He smiled at Evan and then planted a kiss on Evangeline’s lips.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, stroking a lock of her fair hair from her eyes.

  “Tired,” she answered with a strained breath. “But happy.”

  Maximus sat down beside her, placing his hand on her knee. “They say it’s normal to feel tired in the early stages of the spell. I’ve heard that some humans actually fall into a coma when witches first mark them.”

  Evangeline’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn’t mentioned that before.

  “Don’t worry,” Maximus said quickly. “I knew you’d be stronger than that.”

  She gave an unsteady laugh. “Well, who has time to fall into a coma with two children to care for, anyway?” she teased shakily.

  He gave her knee a gentle squeeze. “After we perform the ritual tonight, you’ll feel so much better. You’ll feel like you’ve been given new life. That’s the magic of Erridox.”

  Erridox.

  Being a human whose inner circle consisted of witches, she’d heard the term thrown around many times before. It was a word that came up often, and lately it had been a concept that had been on her mind almost constantly.

  Her gaze darted between Evan and the baby in her arms. “And you’re sure that nothing will go wrong?”

  “No,” Maximus promised. “I won’t let it.”

  She looked into his violet eyes—the same eyes she saw in her two children. Otherworldly eyes. Perfect eyes. In fact, to her, all three of her boys were perfect: Maximus, Evan, and Joel. And Maximus wanted her to be perfect, too, so that they could be a real family—a family of witches.

  Evangeline looked between one-year-old Evan and baby Joel. “I feel like they’re part of something that I can’t possibly understand,” Evangeline murmured, bowing her head. She thought about the way Evan seemed to be filled with some sort of immense knowing, and how baby Joel seemed to commune with nature even at only three months. “Something you can understand, but I can’t. It makes me feel . . . alone, somehow.”

  “Well, you will understand it,” Maximus told her. “Very soon, babe. You will.”

  “I want to do it now,” she said, raising her chin high. “I’m ready.”

  “Now?” Maximus’s eyes lit up. “But I thought we were going to wait until tonight.”

  “It is tonight,” Evangeline giggled, nodding towards the dusky street beyond the window. “I don’t want to waste another second. I want to become a witch. I want you to turn me.”

  Maximus leaned in and kissed her. “I love you, Eve,” he said fervently. “And I love our boys and the life we’ve created. And now you can have everything I have. All the power of the craft at your fingertips.” He gave a boyish grin.

  “All I want is to be the same as my boys,” she said wistfully. “The three loves of my life. I don’t care about the power.”

  “Well, you know it can’t be avoided,” Maximus reminded her. “I have so many old relatives that it’s only a matter of time before they start falling off and you’ll be absorbing their powers, too.”

  Of course she already knew this. As a hybrid human-turned-witch, if she wanted powers they would have to be absorbed from witches in their death.

  “All I want is the power to make you happy,” she murmured, looking down into baby Joel’s sleeping face. “All of you.”

  “I know.” Maximus smiled and stroked her hair. “And so it will be.”

  Maximus lifted Evan from the floor and carried him out into the adjoining hallway, towards the boys’ bedroom. Evangeline rose to her feet and followed with Joel. Maximus placed Evan in his bed, and she carefully placed Joel in his cot. The baby murmured, but still didn’t wake.

  “Goodnight, Joel,” she whispered. She crossed the room to Evan and kissed him delicately on the forehead. “Goodnight, Evan.”

  Evan gurgled happily in response.

  Maximus squeezed her hand before leaving the room. She knew he would be preparing for the Erridox ritual, and a flutter of excitement rose in her stomach. She drew in a nervous breath.

  Finally, she thought. This was what she’d wanted for so long.

  There was just one thing left to do. She slipped out into the hallway and walked up to the land line that sat on the table by the front door. She picked up the receiver and dialled a number she hadn’t called in a long while.

  It rang three times before a familiar voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Tia,” Evangeline spoke the name with affection.

  “Eve? Is that you?”

  “Yes, T, it’s me.” Evangeline felt a smile tug at her lips. She leaned against the wall and gazed out the window. “I’ve been meaning to call you. It’s been so long . . .”

  “Yeah,” Tia agreed. “Too long. How’s the baby?”

  “Two babies now,” Evangeline said, still smiling.

  “Two?” Tia exclaimed into the phone line. “Whoa, Eve. You’ve been busy!”

  There was a pause while the unspoken words lingered between them.

  “I’m happy, Tia,” Evangeline said finally. “I know you think I made a mistake, but I’m happy.”

  The line was quiet for a long moment.

  Tia finally broke the silence. “Good,” she said. �
�That’s all that matters.”

  “And he’s not a bad guy. He’s a wonderful man.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Tia’s voice sounded strained. She cleared her throat. “You probably heard that Jefferson and I cut ties.”

  “Yeah. Max said you wanted to go back to school . . .”

  “What I wanted was to get away from that whole scene,” Tia said meaningfully.

  Evangeline sighed. “Well, that’s your choice to make.”

  There was another heavy pause across the phone line. “Listen, Eve, I don’t want to fight anymore. I want you to be happy, that’s all. And I’m pleased to hear from you, really I am. Just be careful.”

  “I will,” said Evangeline. “Oh, Tia, I’ve missed you—” Her sentence was cut short by a shriek on the other end of the line. She pressed her ear closer to the receiver. “Tia?”

  Tia erupted into giggles, but her laughter wasn’t directed to Evangeline.

  “Sorry, Eve,” she said after a moment, as though only just realising that she was still on the call. “I’ve got to go. My sorority’s hosting a party tonight.”

  Evangeline felt heavy all of a sudden. “Okay.”

  “You should come see me some time. I mean, if you can get a sitter for the baby.”

  “Babies,” Evangeline corrected.

  There was another squeal. “Okay! Bye, Eve!”

  And the line went dead.

  Evangeline hung up the phone and gazed wistfully out the window. Tia’s life had moved on, and so had hers. And now it was time to keep moving forward, because there was no going back. There were no do-overs in life, she always said. And even if there were, she wouldn’t take them.

  She walked into the bedroom she shared with Maximus and was greeted by the warm glow of candlelight cast by a dozen or so candles spread out on the floor all around the bed. Maximus smiled at her, and without a word gestured for her to lie down. She did as he instructed, sinking down into the mattress. Then, closing her eyes, she listened as Maximus began the Erridox ritual. As he murmured words in unfamiliar tongues, she began to feel light, weightless. Nothing mattered anymore. She was above the world now, existing only in Maximus’s voice.

  At first it felt incredible, like nothing she had ever experienced. Ethereal, euphoric, limitless . . .

  And then the pain began to set in—deep sharp twists of agony building in the pit of her stomach and creeping down her limbs. Maximus wasn’t chanting anymore, she realised. No, he was screaming, calling out to her, shouting her name with panic in his voice.

  She tried to open her eyes, but she was paralysed. It was as though the enraptured witchcraft had turned to poison in her blood and was slithering through her whole body like snakes beneath her skin.

  “Eve!” Maximus yelled. His hands began pounding on her chest, and then he was desperately clutching her body to his. “Eve, don’t leave me!”

  But it was too late. Evangeline let out a final breath, thinking only of Evan and Joel as the life slipped from her.

  And just like that, she was gone.

  MAGGIE’S HEART RATE began to quicken as she watched the brothers tremble, their hands clasped and their eyes glazed. In the mansion’s candlelit turret, the window panes rattled even more loudly now as the wind raged outside.

  All of a sudden, the wavering flames sizzled away into smoke, plunging them into darkness. All five boys fell backwards, as though an explosion had propelled them off their feet. This time it wasn’t just one brother who had fallen out of the spell, though. It was all of them.

  Maggie grabbed hold of Pippin as he stumbled backwards. She steadied him before scrambling to Joel, who lay unmoving on the floor.

  “Joel!” she cried, pressing down on his shoulders. “Joel, wake up!”

  He opened his eyes and blinked blearily back at her, mumbling words that she could not decipher. Around them, Ainsley, Kaden, and Evan began to regain consciousness, too.

  With shaking hands, Maggie relit one of the candles.

  “Are you guys okay?” she asked, her voice faltering.

  Evan staggered to a wastepaper basket and vomited. Ainsley stared into space, and Kaden dropped his head into his hands.

  It was a long time before anyone dared to break the silence.

  “She died,” Ainsley said at last.

  Maggie turned back to Joel as he slowly heaved himself upright. She searched his eyes for answers.

  “Our mother,” Joel murmured.

  Maggie sucked in her breath. “At the carnival that night?”

  “No.” Joel shook his head. “No, before that. Seventeen years ago.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “My dad did the Erridox ritual on her, and she died.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened.

  “He thought she could handle it,” Kaden mumbled, his head bowed. “She seemed so strong. Just like Isla . . .”

  Maggie winced at the memory. It was only a few months earlier that Kaden’s Erridox mark had left Isla in a coma. Who knows what would have happened if he’d actually gone ahead with the spell.

  “I don’t understand,” she stuttered. “If your mother died seventeen years ago, how did she . . . ?” she trailed off, her eyes drawn across the room to where Evan was hunched over the bin.

  Joel took notice of Evan now, too. “Evan?” he managed, his voice ragged. “Are you okay?”

  After a bated pause, Evan rose to full height and returned to the group. He sat down beside Joel without a word, shoulder to shoulder, mirror images and yet exact opposites at the same time.

  “Who fell out this time?” Ainsley asked distantly.

  Maggie looked down at the floor. “All of you.”

  “Oh.” It was Evan who spoke now, his voice reverberating off the turret roof. “The spell threw us out because there was no more to see.”

  Kaden’s eyes darkened. “No more to see?” he challenged fiercely. “Are you insane? Of course there’s more to see. She’s alive.”

  “She died,” Evan stated with a grimace. “You saw it.”

  Kaden sprung to his feet and was across the room in seconds, his eyes blazing. “But she’s not dead,” he yelled, squaring up to Evan. “I’m here, aren’t I? Her life didn’t begin and end with you.”

  The muscles in Evan’s jaw clenched.

  “Stop.” Joel staggered to his feet and angled himself between Evan and Kaden. “Don’t fight. Not now.”

  As Evan and Kaden reluctantly stepped back from each other, Maggie lifted Pippin in her arms and held him close.

  “Whatever that spell showed you, I don’t think you should see any more,” she said hoarsely.

  Kaden laughed bitterly and turned his back on her. “You’re all the same.”

  “You didn’t see what it did to you,” Maggie snapped, her eyes following Kaden’s back as he stalked to the window. “All of you, you were . . . I don’t know . . . possessed or something.”

  “That’s not where it ends,” Kaden said, his voice choked. He pressed his forehead to a window pane. “It’s not.”

  “The spell didn’t lead us to her,” Evan murmured. “It didn’t work. There’s no more for us to see.”

  “It didn’t end there,” Ainsley said significantly, slowly coming out of his daze.

  Evan raised his hand. “Ainsley, no. No more.”

  “Why not?” Ainsley’s voice was steady. “I want to see how I ended up here. If she’s dead, then who the hell is my mother? Who the hell am I?”

  “Exactly,” Kaden muttered.

  “Zactly,” Pippin echoed.

  Evan opened his mouth to speak, but Ainsley cut him off. “It’s okay for you guys, maybe,” he said, gesturing between Evan and Joel. “You got to see how much she loved you. You got to feel it. You heard her thoughts, felt what she felt. But what about us? Me, and Pippin, and”—he thumbed towards Kaden—“that guy? Did she love us like she loved you?”

  Evan’s expression softened. “Of course she did—”

  “Well, I want to feel it,” said Ainsley,
pressing his hands to his chest.

  Evan and Joel swapped a glance.

  “I want to see more,” Ainsley whispered.

  “And what about how she came back to life?” Kaden added. “Because she did, you know. She not a ghost or a figment of our imaginations, she’s real. Maybe this will explain how she’s able to astral project. This whole thing was meant to find her, right?” He directed his question at Joel, but it came out more like a challenge. “Well, we haven’t found her yet.”

  Maggie shivered as she watched the exchange with bated breath.

  “Please,” said Ainsley, his voice strained.

  Joel inhaled deeply. “Okay,” he said at last. “I’m in.”

  “Joel . . .” Evan began helplessly.

  Joel gave him a long look—a look that said more than words. Finally, resignedly, Evan bowed his head. The rest of the candles were lit again, and the circled formed as before.

  Maggie cast one last look to Joel before placing Pippin back down on the floor in his spot. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for the best as it began again.

  “Together we call,

  Together we summon,

  Bound by blood,

  Bound by coven,

  Witches five, together speak,

  The path of Evangeline is what we seek.”

  MAXIMUS TOMLINS STAGGERED blindly from the bedroom, his vision speckled from the Erridox ritual and clouded with tears. He staggered into the hallway and picked up the cordless phone from the table by the door. His hands were trembling so much that it took him three tries to key in the number. It began to ring.

  “Pick up,” he choked as he paced into the boys’ room. “Please, pick up.”

  “Hello?” came an elderly lady’s voice at last.

  “Aunt Pearl,” Maximus rasped, shattering into sobs at the sound of her voice.

  “Maximus, boy, what is it?” There was fear in her tone now, a catch in her throat. “What’s happened?”

  “Evangeline,” he said, his voice fractured. “I’ve killed her.”

  “Oh, dear god, child,” Pearl gasped. “No!”

  Maximus let out a strangled sound. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his breaths escaped in painful rasps.