The Amber Lee Boxed Set

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The Amber Lee Boxed Set Page 55

by Katerina Martinez


  “What?” Aaron said.

  I continued to kiss him, hands now slipping under his shirt and into his chest—over the rigid surface of his abdomen. “Did you pass your father’s tests?”

  “I did,” he said, “My father is proud of me.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because I have a test for you too.”

  “Oh?” Aaron arched his neck and I ran my tongue along his jugular.

  “Mhm. I want you to make me scream tonight. Think you can do that?”

  I was losing myself. With every touch, every breath, every taste, I was falling more and more under a strange, lust-inducing spell. He wasn’t even doing anything! My body was going crazy just by my touching him. My skin electrified, my heart thumping so hard I could feel it in my toes.

  “I think I can do that,” he said.

  I hopped off the couch and ran to the bedroom before he could get up, but I wasn’t waiting long. Aaron followed me in, slipping his shirt over his muscular body and tossing it on the ground before sliding onto the bed and arching over me. I couldn’t believe how big he had gotten, but I wasn’t about to question it.

  No need to spoil a good thing with talk.

  Chapter Nine

  Aaron didn’t hear me get up the next morning. I had prepared my bags the night before, so all I had to do was slip out of bed, get changed, tie my hair up and head on outside—a feat I managed in ten minutes flat. Then, after collecting the duffel bag and my backpack and setting them on the floor by the front door to the house, I approached Aaron’s sleeping body and sat down next to him on the bed.

  “Aaron,” I said, kissing him lightly on the forehead.

  His eyes sprang open, awake. I saw his pupils expand and shrink as he rid himself of lethargy in an instant. “Hey,” he said, “What time is it? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m heading out.”

  “Work?”

  I shook my head. “No, witchy stuff. I don’t want you to worry, though, so that’s why I’m telling you.”

  “I always worry.”

  “I know you do.” I kissed him again, caressed his jaw, and smiled. “You sleep in. I’ll be back soon.”

  Aaron snatched my neck before I could leave and pulled me down to his lips. We kissed, and warm tingles shot through me. I wanted to stay, but I had a job to do and someone was counting on me. She may have been a stranger, but she needed my help.

  By 07:00 I had picked Frank and Damien up from their houses and was driving them up into the woods. The drive gave us all a chance to wake up and prepare ourselves mentally for what lay ahead. None of us knew what we were getting into.

  Except, of course, Frank.

  “Cenotes,” Frank said.

  I glanced at Frank’s image in the rear view. Damien cocked his head.

  “What-notes?” I asked.

  “That’s what the Aztecs called portals into the Underworld. According to what I’ve read, they were little pools of black water said to connect the realm of the living to the realm of the dead.”

  “Link? How?”

  “That depends. If the pool was big enough for you to get into, supposedly you could enter the Underworld itself. I’m thinking the witches of the time used the pools to siphon the power of the realm instead of actually going into it.”

  “Some people did, though,” said Damien. “What about the story of Orpheus?”

  “Maybe it was true, in whole or in part.” Frank said. “I have a feeling we could learn a lot about the underworld just by studying what the different cultures of the world have said about it.”

  “You aren’t saying that all of it is true, are you?” I asked.

  “Not all of it,” Frank said, “But even a broken clock is right twice a day. There’s gotta be plenty of truth in here for us to dig up.”

  “If we’re interested in the Underworld. Which we aren’t,” I said.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m going to devour every morsel I can find like I was blindfolded at a sausage eating contest.”

  “Graphic. I thought you said you couldn’t trust necromancers?”

  “You can’t. They’re shifty. They’ve had to do all sorts of messed up things to get their powers.”

  “Can you give me an example?” Damien asked.

  “I can’t,” Frank said, grinning at his own reflection in the rearview. “But we’re about to meet someone who knows firsthand. Maybe we should ask her?”

  We pulled up to a dirt path that led us deeper into the woods, and when I started to recognize the landscape I stopped the car and we stepped out. The air was cold and damp in the woods. Grey clouds had descended and a thin layer of mist was creeping a foot or so above the ground. I found the gloomy weather to be a little odd given the sunny streak we had had. But I didn’t think much of it.

  “I hate the woods,” said Frank. “I keep stepping on jagged rocks. The woods were better when they were covered in snow. At least that was smooth.”

  “Schh,” I said, “There it is.”

  Vertical streaks of the decrepit old cottage poked through the mess of trees in the distance. Black smoke was puffing out of the chimney, and from here the house seemed smaller and more run down. Maybe it was the angle, or the gloom—or the mist.

  “That’s where she lives?” Damien asked. “That cottage doesn’t look like its seen use in years.”

  “Decades, I think,” I said. “C’mon.”

  I approached, and with each step I took my heart began to skip in my chest. The reality of the situation was starting to dawn on me, and for a moment I had forgotten about the dead birds and Collette’s shadow. It was like I was finding out about everything all over again, relearning the fate this poor woman was facing.

  “Collette?” I said, once I was at the door. “Are you in there?”

  “Yes,” she said from the other side of the door, “Come in, please.”

  I turned to Frank and Damien, nodded, and stepped through the croaky old door. The first thing that struck me was just how clean the interior was. The broken old tables and chairs had been moved aside to make room for a large ritual circle made with… salt? Five black candles had been placed at each point of the five point star, around the circle—outside of it—and each was already lit. The second thing that struck me was the cold. I could see my breath in front of my face, leaving my mouth in steamy clouds.

  And then there was the fireplace.

  I caught Collette, wrapped in a black knitted cardigan, kneeling before the hearth and throwing a log into the fire. But the fire wasn’t warm and yellow; it was cold and blue. Pale. Instead of giving off heat, it stole heat. A leech. There was the source of the cold.

  Frank and Damien felt the cold too, but they didn’t mention it.

  “Collette?” I said, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, thank you. Excuse the fire, I know it is cold, but it is necessary. And please don’t break the ring of salt.”

  I checked my footing and stepped away from the salt, just in case. “Here,” I said, dropping the duffel bag on the side of the room “I brought you some stuff I thought you might need. This is Damien and Frank—my brothers in magick.”

  Collette stood, glided over with her long black dress, and shook each of their hands. “Enchante,” she said.

  “Likewise,” said Frank. Damien remained silent.

  “I trust Amber has spoken highly of me?”

  “She did, and I have questions.”

  “Of course?”

  “So, you’re a necromancer.”

  “Oui.”

  “How is it you got your powers?”

  Collette smiled. “I see you have heard ze stories?”

  “I may have.”

  “I can assure you that no one had to die for me to gain the power of the Underworld. I am a witch, just like you, only I was forced to spend several days in the Underworld alone. I needed to use the magick within the dead realm in order to get out.” Collette looked at me. “I b
elieve zis is the reason why my shadow escaped. I was never meant to be a necromancer.”

  “Well… that sucks,” said Frank.

  “Here,” I said. I brought a bottle of water and a bag of grapes to Collette. Red grapes. “I thought you’d be hungry. And there’s more where that came from, too.”

  “Merci,” she said, “You did not have to do that for me, but it iz nice to be able to eat real food again. As soon as ze ritual is complete, I will eat.”

  I nodded. “Please, you would have done the same. Now… this ritual.”

  “Yes,” she said, standing again, “I have prepared a ritual that will tease my shadow out of the Underworld long enough for me to capture it, but I am too weak to summon the shadow alone. Its power is too great. This is why I need you and your coven to ‘elp me.”

  “Alright,” I said, sitting down with my legs crossed at the edge of the ring of salt. “Let’s pull that sucker out and catch it. I feel like a ghost buster.”

  “This should be interesting,” said Frank, who also sat down.

  Damien sat too, but he still hadn’t said a word. I caught him staring at Collette at times, eyes tracing the shape of her neck and jaw. I frowned. Why wasn’t he speaking? Was he taken by her? I guess I couldn’t blame him. Collette was an absolute beauty. And I shouldn’t be jealous, but what about Natalie? Weren’t they still together?

  “I will begin the incantation,” said Collette. “Amber, you will follow me, then Damien, then Frank. We will repeat the phrase three times, then three times again, and a Cenote will open.”

  “A Cenote will open… here?” I asked, pointing at the ring of salt. The circle was easily as big as a hot tub, but there wasn’t any water beneath it—only cracked stone and dirt.

  Still, Collette nodded, sure of herself, and we began.

  Collette recited her incantation in the language of the True Witch; an old language completely different to any other language on the planet, but also familiar to every last one of them.

  We spoke in rhyme, the four of us, and as we reached the third repetition of the incantation, I noticed the ambient light streaking through the damaged and broken windows starting to dim. It was as if a thick cloud had sailed over the sun and blocked its light.

  We spoke the verse a fourth time and I noted the stone in the ring of salt starting to darken. My heart started to race again as the temperature around me plummeted. My eyes darted about the room as shadows became more prominent and seemed to dance against the pale blue light coming off the fireplace.

  Then a bubble of water broke through the stone in the ground, and another, and another. Soon, black water was spilling out into the stone around it, slipping through every nook crevice spreading outward from the center. It was as if we had been drilling and struck a patch of oil! But when the water reached the ring of salt it stopped, and that’s when a circle started to form.

  With every word we spoke, Collette’s pale skin became more vibrant. More alive. The purple bags beneath her eyes disappeared and her cheeks grew red and warm. Was she gaining strength from the Cenote forming on the ground at our feet? It didn’t make sense! Everything I had known about the Underworld so far suggested that it stole life rather than gave it. And here she was, looking healthier by the second.

  Before I knew it we had stopped speaking, and before us was a silent, undisturbed pool of inky black water. I leaned toward it to catch my reflection in it, but Collette pulled me back. “No,” she said, “You must be careful. The water is deceiving and hungry. It will try to take you in.”

  “That doesn’t sound like fun,” said Frank.

  “Quiet. I must draw the shadow out.”

  I watched, silent as the grave, for any signs of movement on the surface of the little black pool but there was none. In fact, the water was much like a slate of obsidian; it was shiny and never moved, but it also didn’t reflect; and that was creepy as all hell.

  Collette extended her hand over the black circle and with one swift movement drew a blade from behind her back with which to cut her palm. Blood trickled from the wound into the pool and I watched the ripples form, mesmerized by the movement.

  “It comes,” said Collette, “It comes.”

  Almost in unison, Damien, Frank and I stared into the deep, black puddle, anxious about what was about to happen next. My head started to feel like a lead weight, the pool like a magnet. I fought hard to stop myself from straying too close, but I wanted to know if the pool truly was incapable of reflecting light—like a true black hole. And what would happen if I were to touch it?

  No. I couldn’t touch it. I shook the thought from my head as one would an old rug to rid it of dust and brought my mind back to center. Focus, Amber, I thought. And I did. My body, still tensed, was alert now instead of just nervous. But the nerves hadn’t left. Not completely.

  What exactly was coming? What was I going to see crawling out of that still pool of black water? A shadow, manifested into solid form? Would it look like a man or a woman? Or would it resemble some kind of dead beast? Maybe it would look more like the aspect of the grim reaper I saw in my dream; that cloaked, bony figure depicted throughout history as the specter of death. I held onto the amulet tightly. So much so that I could feel my heart beating against the silver locket. I was ready. My body was buzzing, pulsing with energy and adrenaline, and a healthy dose of fear.

  My heart began to race as I focused my gaze on the pond. Everyone was silent as a morgue, waiting for something we all secretly thought was never going to come. Time seemed to stretch on and on, the moment we were in suddenly seeming as infinite as all of time itself. This must be what it’s like to be inside a black hole, I thought randomly. But then… movement. A tiny ripple in the pond, as if a droplet of water had fallen in.

  Then, from out of the black, two hands reached out and groped for Collette. I screamed, horrified and paralyzed, as they wrapped around the startled Necromancer’s neck… and pulled her under.

  Chapter Ten

  “Get her out!” I screamed.

  The thing that came out of the pool of black water reeked of old clothes and stale bread. Its hands were made of shadow and almost featureless save for the distinct shape of five fingers. And the sound that came out of that hole, sound that seemed to come from it, was like cats wailing and howling into the night sky.

  Frank and Damien reached for Collette’s arms and pulled. She was submerged all the way to her shoulders, and she was struggling with the thing that had come for her. The black water bubbled and splashed as Collette fought to break free, but even with Damien and Frank’s help, it was impossible.

  I stood upright. “Stand back,” I said. The Power came to me in one sharp jolt, and with a gesture of my hands I yanked Collette out of the water so hard her back hit the ceiling. But something—someone—was attached to her! The thing turned its neck to look at me and I saw its face, sunken, ash gray and angry. But the angry expression didn’t get me almost as much as the fact that it was an exact physical clone of Collette down to the black knitted cardigan!

  “What the fuck is that!” said Damien.

  “Let her go!” I screamed, but the creature ignored me. And as Collette’s thrashing and flailing started to slow, I knew she was losing the fight.

  I imagined myself pushing Collette harder against the ceiling with invisible hands while also grabbing the entity in whatever way I could and pulling them apart. It was working! But the entity was strong, and its grip was tight. I didn’t know what it was trying to do to her, but it shrieked when my magick overpowered it and forced it to relinquish its hold on Collette.

  To the pool it went, splashing down into the black water and disappearing from sight. The water rippled for a moment, but immediately stilled once more. Careful, I lowered Collette from the ceiling and into Damien’s waiting arms. Her skin was pale again and she seemed to have lost consciousness. But the gate persisted beyond her concentration; still and silent, but open.

  “What… the fuck,” said Frank
, panting.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “How is she?” Frank asked Damien.

  “Hurt,” he said, “Her breathing is shallow. Is there a bed around here we can lay her down on?”

  “In there,” I said, pointing at a door to a different room. It was ajar, and beyond it I could see the makings of a bed. “Frank, kill that fire, will you?”

  Damien and I took Collette into the side room while Frank tossed dirt into the hearth and stood watch by the cenote. It wasn’t moving, but then neither was Collette—and that was more worrying.

  “Do you think she’s—”

  “Dead? No, I don’t think so,” I said. “But I also don’t think she’ll be waking up anytime soon. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You seemed strange out there. I hadn’t heard a peep from you.”

  “Yeah…” Damien trailed off, his eyes never leaving Collette’s unconscious face.

  “So?”

  Damien turned his head to look at me. “I saw… I don’t know.”

  “What is it?”

  “I thought, when I saw Collette the first time, I thought maybe someone was standing behind her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You do know, you just don’t want to tell me. Damien, this isn’t the time for secrets and hesitation. Tell me.”

  Damien pressed his lips together. “I don’t know what I saw, Amber.”

  Collette awoke with a gasp, hacking violently and grasping her chest. I thought she was having a seizure!

  “Roll her on her side!” I said, and Damien acted without sparing a second thought.

  Collette coughed in a terrible, heaving fit, though she was on her side and my fear that she would choke to death were gone. But then a strange, odorless black liquid began to ooze out of her mouth along with her coughs. Blood followed. The floor was covered in the mixture of blood and black, now, but the coughing seemed to halt and Collette’s natural breathing returned.

  As did her consciousness.

  “Collette,” I said, at her side, “Can you hear me?”

 

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