“But it’s speaking to me,” he said. “I want it. I need it.”
“No, you don’t, Winston. You want me and only me. Let go of it.” She pried his fingers off the piece.
An image flashed before his eyes: A face. Soft, warm, and lovely. Gold, flowing hair, eyes like the sea. A name danced on the tip of his tongue. “Evie.”
Jocelyn’s eyes grew wide with horror.
He backed away from her as another image came to mind. The same lovely face with a smile, warm and glowing, lit by flickering candles. “Nineteen,” he whispered.
A new, vibrant vision jumped to the surface of his mind, replacing all else. A dagger, solid and strong, tight within his grip, promising what he truly wanted, needed. The woman who stood before him, now holding the very dagger of his dreams. The key to having it all.
He smiled.
“That’s right, my love. Almost done.” She swept a hand over the altar’s surface. “Right here.”
Calvin climbed onto the cold, solid structure, knelt in position as more visions played out in his head. “I’m ready.”
The dagger rested on her open palm. He gazed at the gold blade, the thick, ivory handle, and then at the object looming just beyond: the pendant. He closed his eyes while a new vision sped to the forefront. A lovely woman, rich olive skin with dark, flowing hair. She stood before him, explaining the pendant, smiling when she called him her valeroso caballero. His eyes shot open, and the woman before him–the once beautiful Jocelyn–had changed.
Chapter Forty-six
Evie cursed the frigid temperature of the water as she waded into the depths of it, unable to wait any longer. Calvin had been sucked back through, but surely he would have found the amulet by now, come back to her. Something had gone wrong.
Her body shivered as she sank fully beneath the surface, into the black depths below. Once she hit the bottom, Evie remembered how long the journey had taken, recalled the way she’d nearly lost her breath. Using the ground to press off, she kicked her way to the surface for one last breath of air, then swam back to the base, determined to get past the fear that gripped her in the cold and unknown darkness.
Evie glided her hands along the edge where the cave wall met the earth below. Resisting the urge to release any air, she searched the floor for the porthole. Solid rock and grainy sand slid beneath her palms until she felt it–a large gap, impossibly colder, inviting her to enter with its massive pull.
Pointing her arms before her, she dove into the suctioning tunnel headfirst. Like strong hands gripping her body, the water–or the force behind it–pushed her forward, pulled her higher. She welcomed the fast, unyielding movement, knowing she’d break through the surface quickly, glad her breath hadn’t escaped her completely.
When the motion finally thrust her through the crest of water at the fall’s base, Evie squinted, eyes aching from the afternoon sun reflecting off the pool at her feet. She stepped over the pebbles, searching for any sign of him. “Calvin?” she yelled between panting breaths. “Calvin!” The impulse to call his cell was lost as Evie realized she no longer had her cell phone, not that they’d have reception up there anyway. “Damn it.” How would she find him?
The rocks along the mountain wall seemed to move, and Evie jumped as she realized it wasn’t simply the rocks. It was Parker; he was in the water, hunched over and gasping for breath.
“What happened?” She ran to his side. “What happened, Parker? Where’s Calvin? Did you see him?” A sick knot twisted in her stomach as the words rushed from her lips.
Bracing himself against the mountain wall, Parker came to a stand and gave his head a quick shake, splattering cold drops from his hair. “I saw him. He went with Jocelyn.” His eyes widened as he looked at her. “You’re alive,” he said. “I thought you were dead.”
“Calvin went with Jocelyn? You saw it?”
Parker nodded, and her heart plunged to the ground. Her worst fear had come true. Her body grew heavy suddenly, became hard to support. She placed a hand on the rocks behind her as the world turned clouded and grey.
“I think I can get him,” Parker said.
She sucked in a shallow breath and set her gaze on him. “How?”
“I’ve been there. To the place she took him,” he said. “I think I can go back. You’re wearing the pendant so–” He stopped short. “Why aren’t you wearing the pendant?”
“It fell off somehow. Calvin came out here to find it, but then he didn’t come back and–”
“It has to be here,” Parker said, eyeing the surrounding area. “It has to be, because this is where it led me. I had Jocelyn, I beat her even, I actually did it, but then Calvin was out here and...” He stopped, looked her over. “Look, you stay here, find the pendant. It’s close. As soon as you get it, get back into The Lockdown.”
“I don’t want to be down there alone. What if you guys don’t ever come back?”
He trudged through the water. “We will. Get the pendant down there so it will lead us back.”
“But how will you bring Calvin, too? If he’s not wearing the necklace?”
Parker had been walking away from her, but he stopped in his tracks. With his back to her, he answered, “I’ll figure it out. Just find it and get down there. We’ll take care of the rest.” And then he was gone.
***
The dagger. Why had he wanted it? Calvin couldn’t remember. He could only think of the way Jocelyn had deceived him. The once porcelain skin of a china doll was now pasty looking and thin, showing every vein. Bulging lines of green wrapped around her arms, climbed up her neck, and crept over her cheeks and forehead. Her gown had transformed into ratty rags of thread-like mesh, and her black hair stood wild and gnarled, a mess of greasy twine.
Fear flittered across her dark, shiny eyes. “Take the dagger, my love,” she cooed. “Take it.” She pressed the ivory handle into his palm. The solid feel of the dagger, the hefty weight of it, was hypnotic. He remembered wanting it. Needing it.
“Thank you,” he breathed, grateful to have it within his grasp. Thankful to be kneeling on the altar where he could finish the job. Yet something lingered in the back of his mind, squelching his excitement. What was it? He looked back at her, saw the pendant again, and focused on it as a flood of details poured through his mind. A gripping ache spread throughout his body: the curse, Evie, The Loft, Fiona. Fighting off the mind power for the battle ahead.
The battle–this was it.
His breaths came rapid as the truth of it sank in. How many times had he come to this acknowledgement? He eyed the dagger in his hand, focusing on the truths in his mind. Evie was alive. They’d made it that far. Parker! He’d thrown him into the rocks.
The ache in his body moved, gathered into a concentrated force that pounded in his head as his thoughts became his own; replacing the twisted promptings of the grotesque woman at his side.
“What are you waiting for, Winston?”
Winston? She thought he was Winston. He looked back at the creature, hiding a cringe at the horrid sight. What would she do when she realized he’d broken through her spell? And how would he get her into The Lockdown?
“Winston,” Jocelyn demanded. She brought her body closer to him, swept a rancid hand across his cheek. “It’s time, my love. It’s time.” Her ragged voice softened. “Your life for me you freely give.” She curled his fingers around the smooth ivory base of the dagger.
Calvin’s chest tightened as he realized she was starting the chant, the ritual that would bind them together, permanently, if he followed her command.
“In darkness now is where you live.” She grabbed his other hand and wrapped his dampened palm around the fist holding the dagger. His hands shook.
“This dagger you’ll push through your heart.” She tilted his chin toward the sky, wrapped her bony hands over his, and lifted the blade high over his chest. She stepped away from him then, but her eager eyes held his. “Then you and I shall never part,” she cried dramatically.
“Do it now,” she ordered in a fevered tone.
Trickles of sweat trailed along the sides of his face, down the back of his neck.
“Do it,” Jocelyn demanded again, louder this time. “We won’t be together if you don’t, Winston.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, followed the trail of veins in her face. Yet beyond the flood of tears, he saw something in the dark pool of her eyes. He saw her anguish reflected there and had pity for her. For the sorry creature she was.
He took his gaze off her, conscious of how quickly, how fiercely he’d been sucked in before. He couldn’t let it happen again. Desperate to act before he lost control, he eyed the strange night sky above him, sensing it wasn’t real. She had to have brought him into her world.
“Show me that you love me,” she screamed.
Suddenly Calvin saw a bright flash, a strange neon image. In it, was a lifeless body…his own. It was just a mind blink, gone as quickly as it came. Again he tried to concentrate, but was disrupted by another mind flash, a new ugly image of him using the blade on himself. This time, along with the image, Calvin felt an unwelcome longing–the fleeting desire to make the images real. He fought it with visions of Evie. Her triumphant smile at the batting cages, the warmth of her in his arms.
Jocelyn with the dagger came to mind next. Tastes of her bitter sorrow.
He replaced them with memories of Evie on Christmas night. The whispering of his love for her. The way she repeated it. I love you, too.
Flashes of his suicide came then. The dagger, firm within his grasp. His desire to thrust it through his heart, end the sorrow.
Her sorrow.
Not his.
Each one of Jocelyn’s thoughts was thick with restless desire, lust, and unquenchable need.
All thoughts of Evie offered love–patient and pure.
He envisioned the life they might have if he conquered, their future, children and all.
He would conquer. He had to get back to Evie.
He glared at Jocelyn as he fought her invasion, tuned into the growing sound of his own mind, putting her attempts to shame. It was all about Evie. His love for her. Keeping her safe. Keeping her near.
Jocelyn began to pace angrily. “My love,” she moaned. “After all I’ve done for you, Winston. After all I have given.” Her rage showed itself in strange ways. The veins beneath her thin sheet of skin turned from green to dark purple, almost black. He could still hear faint sounds of her coaxing voice, working desperately to persuade him.
The world around them started to change, the dark sky transforming into a shallow roof of soil. Calvin looked up to see the darkened dirt just inches from his head. Roots and twigs wove in winding patterns above him and along the sides as well. They were surrounded by dirt, buried and trapped within a cave of earthy soil.
The crazed creature before him continued to rant, stomping now, cursing. Causing the earth to shake as specks of dirt fell into his eyes. He blinked, shaking his head and noticed more dirt and small pebbles tumble loose, fall like rain.
Jocelyn paid no attention. Back and forth she paced, angrily stomping each white, bony foot deeper into the ground. “What will you make me do, Winston? What will you make me do?”
Calvin cringed from the screeching sound of her cry. He couldn’t resist the urge to cover his ears and recoil. More pieces of earth peppered his back as she continued to tantrum, groan, and cry.
The ground shifted beneath them, and a deep crack broke across the earthy roof above. He’d be buried alive. He searched around him, desperate to find a way out. There had to be a way out.
“Hey, Jocelyn!” The deep voice was familiar. Parker’s voice. Calvin turned to see his brother standing behind him. “Latch onto the pendant, Cal,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll take you both.”
Calvin barely had time to think about what his brother meant. Latch onto the pendant? Parker was going to try to teleport him out, as well. That had to be it. The soil roof rumbled above him. Calvin thrust himself off the altar, dove straight for Jocelyn. He wrapped his hand around the pendant as they collided with the ground.
Heavy mounds of soil crashed in as the roof and walls collapsed. Calvin pressed his lids closed, groaning beneath the load, and prayed that Parker’s plan would work.
Chapter Forty-seven
Evie rubbed her thumb over the pendant as she waited, grateful she’d been able to get back into the cave on her own. She eyed the freshly carved room before her–Jocelyn’s chamber–consumed by thoughts of endless waiting, the idea that she may never hear from Calvin again. Or Parker. What if they never showed? How would she move on? There was no way she could. And Jack. What would she say to their father, Jack?
It felt like hours had passed since she found the pendant, and her vivid imagination had nearly gotten the best of her. She couldn’t fathom lasting another hour. There was no way. She fell to her knees, glaring at the empty hole once more, willing Calvin to come.
Her gaze shifted to the massive scrapes on her wrists. They reminded her of their long journey. Of everything they’d been through up to that point. It couldn’t have all been for nothing.
A stifled moan sounded from the empty cavern as a burst of commotion kicked up the dirt. Evie jolted back. There, rolling across the ground before her, was a jumbled cluster of bodies. She did a quick count. One, two, three.
Pure elation brought his name to her lips, “Calvin!” She uttered his name once more as she rushed toward the heap of dirt-covered limbs, but hedged once she caught sight of Jocelyn amongst them.
Calvin and Parker climbed to their feet, looking disoriented and beat. Jocelyn lay on the ground, looking determined and angry. In less than a blink, she jumped to her feet and charged toward Evie with a wild snarl.
“She lives,” Jocelyn screamed, darting through the air. “She lives!”
Evie’s heart leapt to her throat, stifling a scream as she backed away from Jocelyn’s boney, reaching fingers.
Calvin dove across the room and tackled Jocelyn to the dirt with a grunt. “She lives, alright.” He grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her back. “And you’re not going to touch her.”
Parker rushed to his side, gripped one of Jocelyn’s forearms while Calvin grabbed the other. Together, they dragged the screaming witch back to the center of the room as Jocelyn thrashed and kicked, scowling at Evie through the shadows. A smeared layer of dirt coated her mean, vicious-looking face. Her round head held a bulbous nose, a miniature chin, and deep, black eyes that pierced Evie with dread and fear.
“You betrayed me, Winston,” she hissed, turning on Calvin with her teeth bared. She stretched until her sharp, yellowed teeth hovered over his knuckles.
Evie gasped. “Calvin, watch out.”
As Calvin yanked his hand back, Jocelyn pulled her arm free from his grasp and reached for his neck. Four overgrown fingernails dug deep, red gouges from his throat to his chest. He grabbed her arm once more, forced it behind her as they reached the center of the room, or tomb, as Calvin would have it.
The stringy, white substance pulled away from the wall, moving toward Jocelyn while she flailed and screamed. The living web coated her form as Parker and Calvin backed out of the space.
For a moment, Evie thought her eyes were deceiving her, because they walked right through the webbed cage as if it didn’t exist at all. The silvery mass of stretching thread recognized only Jocelyn. It molded to her, clung to her, knew her. It would eternally keep her, spirit and all.
Calvin wrapped a strong, protective arm around Evie as he and Parker stood by her side. Jocelyn moaned and thrashed, but already, the stringy creation had enveloped her. Every inch of her skin, each strand of her hair–smothered. She fought beneath it with full, reaching movements. Extended hands and out-stretched fingers, snuggly covered in the white thread.
As the strands built up like a caterpillar’s cocoon, her movements changed. Inste
ad of reaching toward them, Jocelyn sprawled her arms out to her sides, as if trying to fill the entire cell with her presence. The action, along with the strained, almost flapping movement of her arms, created what looked like wings. The white surface appearing feather-like somehow. Suddenly her neck grew taller, prouder as something strange appeared. Evie leaned forward slightly, shaking her head, wondering if she was seeing correctly, or if she’d only imagined it. What looked like a small, delicate beak had formed in the center of her face, which was now lost somewhere behind the mysterious form.
Finally, as the creation silenced the sound of her cries, Jocelyn’s weakened movements stopped altogether, the powerful bands thwarting even the slightest budge.
Just as Evie saw beauty in the bird-like statue, the webbed coating began to change from soft, wispy white, to slick, reflective black. It was as if a gallon of ebony paint had been poured over the figure. It started at the top of her head, and spread in a smooth, fluid motion until the dark coating covered her face, neck, and shoulders. The once stringy material transforming into a shiny black substance that seemed to harden like a shell before their eyes. Smooth and thorough, the ghostly effect oozed down the length of her body, covering her wing-like arms. And then her legs. All the way down to her feet.
She looked like a black bird now–a raven with broken wings–never to fly again. A crackling sound, like the angry crash of thunder, echoed down the length of the hall, bouncing off the cave walls, the great force causing the lanterns to flicker.
The silence that followed was so entirely thorough, that Evie didn’t dare breathe, for fear she might undo the impossible feat she’d just witnessed.
She blinked twice before noticing something hidden in the image before her. There, reflected in the shiny body of the mass, stood three figures, huddled closely together, each watching in awe. The sight confirmed what she already knew: it was over.
Gripped with emotion, Evie wrapped her arms around Calvin, letting herself fall into his comforting embrace. Heavy loads of pent-up pressure, every dose of built-up fear seeped from her body in that final, heightened breath. Muscles weak, mind beat, tears gushed down her cheeks. Her body shook as she sobbed, moved by joy and relief.
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