We crossed the stream, and I could see the lights from Pagan’s house ahead of us.
“Are you all right?” He stopped and turned toward me.
“I wish you’d stop asking me that.” My voice was still coming out in a rasp.
“The ritual can be terrifying.”
“Was it for you?” I asked.
“It was something I’ll never forget. A moment like that never leaves you.”
“And the person that did it to you, do you still see them?”
He nodded his head. “Often. He’s my mentor.”
“How can you forgive him for what he did?” I demanded.
I had hurt him with that question, I could tell. His eyes filled with a look of remorse when he answered. “By facing what happened and realizing it wasn’t personal. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. It was a necessary evil. I asked to be initiated into the black arts, and in order to do it I had to accept all that came along with that request.” He looked up at the stars. “There’s no good or evil to magic. Each person brings their own intents, wishes and dreams to it. Use it for the wrong purposes and it can become dangerous. It can get out of control--it can consume you in a way that you can’t stop.”
“And do you know this from personal experience?”
He looked at me again. “No. I’ve never headed down that path. I always wanted to use my gifts to help people.”
“Death magic to help people?” It was a crazy notion.
He nodded his head. “Yes, it can be used that way. And now that you’ve done the first ritual you’re going to be able to contact the dead. Killing you, bring you back from the dead was only part of the ritual to claim your power over death. You have to commune with the dead. The next ritual is possession.”
I was shocked. “What do you mean… what do you…” I swallowed, unable to get the words out.
“Don’t think of it now. We need to go back, and you need to rest. To get your strength back,” he said.
I took a deep breath and then another. Possession. I had no choice but to continue.
His expression turned grim. “This next ritual is a hard one. It won’t be pleasant or easy.”
I couldn’t keep the horror I was feeling from showing on my face. And dying was what? The easy part?
Chapter Six
Communicating with the Spirits
The clock on the night stand blared three am. Two and a half hours had passed since we made it back to Pagan’s house. Conversation had been minimal. I told him I was tired. It wasn’t true, honestly I didn’t know what to say to him and I was having a hard time meeting his gaze.
My body trembled every time he walked close by and not in the good way it had before. This was a fear that was now deep within me. A fear of a guy that hadn’t wanted to hurt me.
I kept trying to tell myself it was only part of the ritual. Neither one of us had a choice--we had to go through with it. I hoped if I repeated it enough times, over and over in my head, I would stop being afraid of the only ally I had.
Luke had offered to sleep next to me again. I had declined in a way that was not so gracious, and obviously hurt his feelings. I could see the pain I was inflicting by shying away from him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Coming so close to death, seeing the other side, had unnerved me in a way I couldn’t really put into words.
I had hoped by shutting myself away in Pagan’s bedroom I would be able to close my eyes and try to convince myself it had all been an unpleasant nightmare. But I lay there in the dark, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Every time I was on the verge of sleep I felt the sensation of his hands grasping my neck, tightening ever so slowly. Each time it happened I bolted upright in bed, my heart pounding and tears streaming down my face. Finally, I decided to give up trying to get to sleep. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and headed toward the kitchen. It would be daylight in a few hours. We would go to the market and get supplies and then spend the day resting before the next trial. The next trial. At the thought, my trembling hands tightened around the blanket.
Light from the fire cast shadows around the room. I could just make out the living room furniture, and I sidestepped my way around the couch and into the kitchen. I opened the nearest cupboard and pulled out a tall plastic glass. I moved to the sink, filled up the glass, and raised it to my mouth when a hand suddenly reached out of the darkness and grabbed my shoulder.
The glass dropped and bounced against the floor as I spun around. The overhead light flicked on. It was Luke standing beside me, and at the sight of him, I instinctively took a step back.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” I asked, my breath coming out in a rush.
Luke moved toward me. “Another nightmare?”
I took another step away from him. “No. I couldn’t sleep.”
One more step in my direction and he had me cornered against the counter. My heart pounded in my chest.
His hand reached out, and he gently brushed a tear from my cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
I tried not to shy away from him this time. I took a deep breath and met his gaze. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
He squeezed my arm. “You’re not okay.”
“I am. I wish you’d stop fussing over me.”
“You know I would never hurt you.” His voice was low, concerned filled his eyes.
“I know you wouldn’t,” I answered, trying to keep the fear from my voice.
“But you’re afraid of me?” Anger now filled those dark eyes.
“I don’t want to be,” I whispered.
He turned and started to walk away, but then he spun on his heels and reached for me. He pulled me hard toward him. His lips crushed down on mine. This kiss wasn’t gentle like before--this kiss was demanding.
My lips answered his. My arms came up and encircled his neck. The kiss deepened. His tongue was like velvet against mine. Shivers of, not fear, but desire ran across my skin. It felt so good to be in his arms. His hands came to rest at my back and he pulled me closer.
We kissed again and again. His mouth broke away from mine, and his lips trailed down my neck. His right hand came up and glided down my throat, gently following his lips. Strong fingers brushed against raw bruises on the surface of my skin.
He’d tried to kill me. He strangled me. The words screamed across my brain.
Luke was unaware of the panic that began to fill me. He brought his lips back onto mine and kissed me again, but instead of kissing him back I pushed hard against him. He stopped and took a step back. But he was still close. I reached out and shoved his body back further.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, my breath coming out in a harsh gasp.
Luke’s eyes filled, first with confusion, and then with realization. I expected him to get angry, but instead he suddenly looked helpless. We faced each other for several long minutes and then he gave me a ghost of a smile, shrugging his shoulders before turning and walking away.
I was left alone in the kitchen. I suddenly felt extremely cold, but I realized my body still burned everywhere his skin and lips had touched mine.
* * * *
I made my way back into the bedroom, tears streaming down my face. Tumbling back into bed, I wrapped the comforter tightly around my body and lay there sobbing, my body shaking as both fear and anger raged inside me. I had never cried so hard. When I thought I couldn’t shed another tear, my body and mind shut down, and I was able to drift off to sleep. But it was a restless sleep. I tossed and turned. Nightmares, horrific images of my family and Darla suffering kept jarring me awake.
A pounding at my door forced me upright. Light streamed through the windows. The clock on the bedside table now blared one pm. I had slept ten hours, but I didn’t feel refreshed. I felt exhausted both physically and mentally.
The door slowly opened and Luke stood in the doorway, a plate piled high with eggs and bacon in his hand.
“Hi,” he said, stepping into the room, his expression guarded.
“Hi,
” I answered back.
“You can sleep more if you like. I just wanted to check on you.” He lifted the plate in his hand. “I thought you might be hungry since you didn’t eat last night.”
“I am.”
Instead of handing me the plate Luke walked over and put it on the dresser. He walked back toward the open door and stopped just inside the doorway. “I went to the market earlier. I didn’t want to wake you. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really, but I’m okay.”
He nodded his head and stood there.
I felt self conscious as I got out of bed and retrieved the plate. I sat on the edge of the bed and took a bite of bacon. “It’s good, thanks.”
I could tell by his expression there was something he wanted to tell me, but he just stood in the doorway, silent, watching me. Waiting for me to do what? Probably scream at him to get out and slam the door behind him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt me, I reminded myself again.
I forced a smile onto my face. “So what’s the plan for the day?”
“When I was at the market there was talk…” he hesitated.
“Talk about what?”
“A girl was killed a few days ago in a lake not far from here. We could go check it out.”
“But I thought we were on a mission to save your sister? Shouldn’t our focus be on the rituals?” at the last word, my hand unconsciously reached up to touch the bruises on my neck.
Luke’s eyes followed the movement. At the sight of the bruises, he flinched and looked away. “Yes, but the other night, when those men attacked us, there were spirits there in the room.”
I nodded my head. “The ones you called? The banshees? I saw them.”
He took a step forward. “No, not the spirits doing my bidding. There were others. Spirits full of unrest calling out to me. They were tied to the men. The spirits were calling for vengeance. They whispered of murder, of being bound and then drowned.”
“Bound and then drowned? You mean like the people the Redeemers have killed?” I was truly shocked by what he was saying. “You think those men had something to do with the death of those people? How could anyone mage born have anything to do with the Redeemers?”
His expression turned grim as he answered, “I don’t know what’s going on, but we can’t do the next ritual until the witching hour, and the lake is only a short drive from here.”
“You want to go investigate? And what, hope to see the spirit of the girl drowned?” I asked, afraid to hear his answer.
He nodded his head. “If she was murdered and is wandering the ether sea in a state of unrest there’s a good chance she’ll come to me.”
“And if she does?” the idea of calling on spirits still made my skin crawl.
“Maybe, we can get some answers.”
I didn’t want to go, but what was my other option? Sit around all day feeling scared and freaked out as I waited for the clock to tick away until midnight? There was another nightmare ritual heading my way and the last thing I wanted to do was sit around and dwell on it.
I raised a piece of bacon and tried to give him a smile. “I’ll finish eating and get ready.”
But the minute he walked out and closed the door my appetite vanished. I put down the plate and got up and started pacing across the room.
Now that I had seen the other side, did that mean I could communicate with the dead? I tried to imagine driving up to the lake and seeing the dead girl’s ghost pop up. I shuddered at the thought. Dealing with the spirits was no big deal to Luke, but the only spirits I had ever seen were the banshees Luke had summoned. Luke had said the next trial was possession. The whole point of me dying and coming back was so that I could communicate with the other side. But I didn’t know if I was ready to face the spirit world.
I stopped pacing and looked out the window. The thing I feared the most was seeing my family. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. What if my family came back to me and they looked like the faces of Luke’s banshees? I tried to shake the image of my mother’s eyes filled with suffering and pain.
I clenched my fists and forced myself to think of the men that had killed her. Those men needed to pay for destroying my world and killing my family. Revenge. It was what I wanted most in the world and if it was going to happen I needed to stay strong. I opened my eyes and straightened my shoulders. I had died and come back--I could talk to spirits. I could do this. I turned and headed toward the closet. I needed to get dressed and prepare myself for what came next. And as I started to pull out the clothes I was going to wear, I whispered to the empty room, “The undead, the unsettled, ready or not here I come.”
* * * *
The lake was bigger than I’d imagined. I could see wood cabins hidden amongst the trees. The lake itself was crystal blue and small waves floating across its surface sparkled in the sunlight.
It was a beautiful fall day. The trees around us were all shades of red and orange. They’d started shedding their leaves, and I shuffled my feet through the colorful foliage on the ground as I followed Luke toward the water.
“The spirit is here. Can you feel it?” Luke asked. He was now standing a few feet from the water’s edge.
There was something out there. I could definitely feel it. The hair on my arms was standing up, and a chill ran down my neck. “Yes,” I answered, taking an unconscious step closer to him.
He turned and grabbed my arm. “Try not to concentrate on her.”
“I thought you wanted me to commune with the dead.” Wasn’t I supposed to talk to spirits? Hadn’t it been the reason I had to go through that first horrendous ritual of his?
“You will, but not like this. Not yet. You aren’t ready.” He started to move toward me, but seemed to change his mind and instead he let go of my arm. “You don’t know how to handle spirits yet. Until you’re ready, it’s too dangerous. A spirit can take you over.” He took a step closer to the water. “Try to fill your mind with other things.”
Like what. And at the thought I felt a sudden chill run down my arm and a strong breeze whistle past my cheek.
Luke spun around. “Colina, listen to me. You have to focus on something else!”
At his words, I could feel pieces of my hair lifting in the breeze. But not all my hair--only a piece here and there. I looked over at the nearest tree which stood only a few feet away. It wasn’t swaying in the wind--its leaves and limbs were still. Whatever was happening to me, it wasn’t something natural. It was the spirit.
“A childhood song,” Luke said. “Start to think of a song you sang as a kid.”
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the words to songs I learned in summer camp when I was a young. I tried to focus on the words and ignore the breeze now blowing across my arm.
Luke suddenly looked up into the sky. “I hear you. Come closer. I can help you.”
I hummed to myself as I watched him. His gaze became fixed to his left, and his head tilted as though he was listening intently to something.
I heard him mutter, “What’s your name?”
And for a moment I could have sworn I heard another voice on the wind. A girl’s voice just off in the distance.
But as I tried to focus in on it, Luke suddenly turned to me and frowned. “The song, keep filling your mind with the song.”
I nodded my head and took a few steps away from him. I turned my back on him and studied the country side. I loved how the trees had changed color--deep red, orange, and yellow. Fall was my favorite time of year. If things were different. If my family was still alive. I turned my thoughts from my family and forced the words of the song back into my head. But my mind began to wander again, and my thoughts this time turned to Luke. What if I had met him under different circumstances? Would I have been afraid of him? Would I have been scared and repulsed by him just because he was a death dealer?
A hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder. Startled I spun around.
“Sorry, I said your name a few times, but you seemed lost in your thoug
hts.”
“The spirit?” I asked.
His expression turned grim. “She came to me. She was murdered by a group of men. Men who possessed magic.”
I gasped in shock. “It’s not possible. The Redeemers don’t allow mage born into their cult.”
“They don’t.”
“Men of magic does that mean…” I took a deep breath, my voice was now shaking as I forced the words out, “Was she…was she a sacrifice used to power a spell? A sacrifice like my father?”
He shook his head. “She wasn’t killed on a full moon or a dark moon.”
I gasped again and grabbed his arm. “But Darla. That means Darla…”
“Darla, is still alive. I would know if she was…” His words faltered off.
My fingers dug into his skin. “The spirit, can she help us find Darla?”
Luke’s eyes suddenly had an odd, faraway look. “The girl, her name was Sarah. They wanted something from her--something she couldn’t or wouldn’t give them. And when she refused them, they killed her.”
“What did they want?” I whispered.
His attention focused back on me. “I don’t know. The spirits they don’t always talk in straight lines. When they’re murdered, the very essence of them forced suddenly from their bodies, there’s a lot of confusion.”
As I listened to him the image of my brother James popped into my mind. No knife or bullet had touched James’s body. Instead, they had done something far worse. Something I hadn’t been able to tell Luke about. Not yet.
Luke continued, “When you communicate with the spirits it can be somewhat cryptic. The things they tell you. They often talk around things, or in a way that’s hard to immediately understand.” Luke looked around as if trying to find the right words. “Think of it as pieces of a puzzle you have to put together to see the whole picture.”
“This girl, Sarah, she gave you some pieces to the puzzle?”
Awakening Page 9
