by S. J. West
“Where do you want to do this, Gerald?” Gage asks, doing his best to ease his friend toward a sense of comfort so he feels confident enough to attempt the spell.
“I need to lock up down here first and put the closed sign out,” Gerald says. “If you could take the others upstairs to my living room, I would be grateful, Gage.”
While Gerald closes shop, Gage escorts us upstairs to Gerald’s living quarters. I’ve often heard of people living above the shops that they operate, but this is the first time I’ve ever actually seen such a quaint notion put into practice.
Gerald’s home is more light and airy than I thought it would be. For some reason, I assumed a person who practiced dark magic would want to live in a place that was dark as well. Although Gerald is a reformed wielder of dark magic. Perhaps being somewhere with a lot of light helps him stay in the light, as it were.
Gerald’s loft is full of natural sunlight from various skylights in the ceiling and plentiful windows in the outer walls. In fact, the only section that has walls separating it from the rest of the space is the bathroom. Everything else is out in the open. The décor is decidedly shabby chic with mismatched furniture that somehow goes well together as an eclectic whole.
Viktor makes himself right at home by jumping onto the red velvet couch that’s been warmed by the sun from the skylight directly above it. Moments later, Gerald joins us in his loft looking as nervous as he feels. If I wasn’t an empath, I might worry that he was jumpy for nefarious reasons, but I know his anxiousness stems from a lack of self-esteem and fear that he will fail us.
“There’s nothing for you to be worried about, Gerald,” I tell him in a comforting voice. “We know you’ll do your best, and that’s really all we can ask from you.”
Gerald attempts to smile at me, but his anxiety causes it to look more like a grimace, which wasn’t his intention.
“I see I’m still a master when it comes to hiding my feelings from others,” he tries to joke.
I smile benevolently at him and say, “There’s nothing wrong with showing how you feel. I just want you to know that no one here has any desire to judge you. Our opinion of you won’t be founded on whether or not this works today. We’re just grateful that you’re willing to try.”
“I’ll do my best for you,” he promises me in earnest before looking at Julian. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Julian replies with a simple nod of his head.
“I assume Gage told you about the woman in Destin,” I say. When Gerald nods, I continue, “She told us that she had to bring Julian and Petru to the brink of death in order to talk to the spirits inside them. We’ve since learned that what she said may not be the case at all.”
“What do you mean?” Gage asks, since what we learned from Evie is new to him.
Julian and I go on to fully explain Evie’s role in the attempts against my life and that the spirit inside Julian was in complete control during that visit.
“So,” I say, “we don’t know if the woman was telling us the truth or if it was some elaborate charade on her part.”
“It’s hard for me to say for sure,” Gerald replies, mulling over the information I’ve just given him. “It could be one or the other, or it could be both. My guess is that she did bring them both to the brink of death to contact the spirits initially. That would be the easiest way to do it.”
“Why do you think she was draining the blood out of their bodies when we found them?” I ask. “Is there a dark magic spell that requires a large quantity of vampire blood?”
“I’ve never heard of such a spell. More than likely she planned to sell it on the black market,” he replies. “Every once in a while, someone will claim to have a vial of pure vampire blood. We all know it can sustain human life.” Gerald looks over at Helen as an example of this truth. “But as far as I know, no one but vampires have been able to figure out how to use it properly. I assume there’s more to the process than just drinking their blood.”
“Yes, there’s more to it than that,” Julian replies but doesn’t elaborate on what else is involved.
“And since we mortals don’t know the complete secret,” Gerald says, “none of us have been able to replicate the effect. But considering the fact that this woman had two vampires in her clutches, everyone would have known the blood was authentic and would have paid whatever price she placed on it.”
The irony that so many humans yearn for near immortality while Julian is doing everything in his power to become mortal again isn’t lost on me.
“So how do you intend to contact the spirit I possess and get the information we need from her?” Julian asks Gerald.
“I want to try something that doesn’t require me to use dark magic during this first attempt. I would rather keep things on the light side, if at all possible. We should save dark magic as a last resort. Gage told me that the spirit has been the most active when you’re asleep. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Then I need for you to go to sleep.”
Julian looks around at the others in the room. “I’m not sure I can relax enough to do that if everyone is in here watching me.”
“Then we’ll leave,” Helen announces, seeing this as a simple enough remedy to the problem. She walks over to the couch and swiftly lifts Viktor off of it, much to his dismay and vocal displeasure. “We’ll be waiting downstairs in the shop. I’m sure we can find something to keep us occupied.”
I turn to leave also, but Julian grabs one of my wrists before I can take one step away from him.
“You,” he says pointedly, “I need.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Petru asks, looking worried. “The main reason Nathaniel and I moved all of our belongings to your house was so you and I could watch each other while we slept.”
“Don’t worry,” Gerald tells Petru. “I’ll cast an immobilization spell on Julian while he’s sleeping. He won’t be able to physically harm us.”
Petru looks less than convinced. “If I hear anything suspicious,” he tells us, “I’ll be right up.”
After the others leave, I walk with Julian over to the red velvet couch that Viktor had been laying on.
“I see why the cat chose this spot,” Julian says, as he rests his head on a matching throw pillow and sighs contentedly in the sun while closing his eyes. “It’s soft and warm.”
I kneel down beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help you go to sleep?”
Julian opens his eyes and looks at me. “No. To be honest, I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept since you woke me up that morning in the living room back home.”
“Julian,” I say, aghast, “that’s been days!”
“Thus,” he replies, closing his eyes, “why I’m tired. I’ll be asleep soon. Gerald, you should cast your spell on me now.”
Gerald walks over to Julian, claps his hands together over his body and spreads them apart slowly as he says, “Immobiles.”
“As soon as he falls asleep, I’ll force the spirit to speak with us,” Gerald tells me as he walks over to a small round dining room table near the kitchen area. He picks up something made of red and yellow yarn from its surface and walks back over with it in his hands. Once he returns, he places the object on top of Julian’s chest.
“What is that?” I ask Gerald as I study the two pieces of wood tied together in a cross pattern with yellow yarn woven around it in the center and red yarn woven in the same fashion to compose the outer edges.
“It’s a spirit trap,” he tells me. “The theory is that once a spirit is summoned, it will feel compelled to follow the thread in the trap from one end to the other. Since the thread used is unbroken, the spirit should become trapped inside it.”
“Do you think that thing will actually work?” I ask, having some serious misgivings about its effectiveness. To me, it simply looks like a child’s toy. “We are mostly interested in knowing what we can do to bring the girl’s soul peace so she’ll leave Julian’s body voluntarily. I’m not s
ure trying to trap her is such a good idea.”
“Odds are it won’t actually trap her,” Gerald replies, “but my hope is that it will at least draw her out long enough to speak with her. I don’t suppose you happen to know what her name is. That would help me focus on her spirit.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m sorry. She never told us that. It’s one of the things we’re hoping to learn today. We have a theory that if we can find a way to appease her soul, possibly by doing something good for her remaining living relatives, that she’ll forgive Julian for the part she believes he played in her death.”
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try that,” Gerald replies. “Spirits are finicky creatures. Each one of them is different. There’s no one rule on how to help them cross over into the afterlife.”
I consider asking Gerald about my mother’s spirit and how to help her move on from being a vengeful shade, but I decide to wait and see what happens with Julian first.
We stand by and watch for the telltale signs that Julian has fallen asleep. When his breathing becomes more even and deep, Gerald closes his eyes, holds his hands palm down over Julian’s body, and begins to quietly chant something in a language I don’t understand. He does this for what seems like thirty minutes. I don’t notice anything happen, but I don’t want to ask questions and disrupt whatever spell he’s weaving between himself and the spirit inside Julian. Gradually, I notice what looks like a tendril of purple light undulate its way up from the center of Julian’s chest to the spirit trap. At first, it slowly makes its way along the threads of the yarn. To my surprise and worry, the purple light quickly travels through every strand before leaping in a graceful arc and attaching itself to the middle of Gerald’s chest. Julian and Gerald are now tethered to one another by what I have to assume is the spirit of the girl.
Gerald suddenly stops chanting. When his eyes open, they look like they’re on fire with a purple flame.
“What do you want, Sarah?” the voice of the young girl’s spirit asks through Gerald’s mouth. “Why are you forcing me to speak through this stranger?”
“I want you to leave Julian’s body,” I tell her. “What can we do to appease your need for revenge and finally give your soul enough peace to move on?”
The spirit doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then, it begins to cackle with glee.
“Oh, Sarah, you are amusing, but I’m afraid leaving Julian simply isn’t an option right now. I’m having too much fun torturing him. Having you come into his life is the best thing to ever happen to me. Why in the world would I leave when I have the means by which to cause him so much pain?”
“You know how much he’s suffered over the years,” I point out angrily. “Don’t you think he’s paid enough for what you’re accusing him of?”
“Not nearly enough!” she screams hysterically. “And you need to stop bringing strangers into our little game, Sarah. I don’t like cheaters. Did you really believe this meat suit would be able to trap me inside that child’s toy? I’m more powerful than any of you realize! No one warlock or puny spirit trap can contain me. And now, because of your impudence and stupidity, one of you will have to be punished.”
Suddenly, Gerald’s body is consumed by purple flames. His voice is finally returned to him, only so he can scream his agony to the world.
“No!” I scream, reaching out for Gerald on instinct but being too far away to actually touch him.
Thankfully, his torment only lasts a few seconds before his body crumbles to the floor in a pile of black ash. In the same instant, the purple tendril draws itself back into Julian’s body like a toy’s pull string. Julian instantly opens his eyes and looks over at what’s left of poor Gerald.
Petru comes rushing through the door, and I can hear multiple footsteps following close behind him on the stairs.
“What happened?” Petru asks, staring at the pile of ash that was once Gerald before looking up at me for an answer.
Gage, Helen, Viktor (still in cat form), and Nadia come running through the door. I briefly explain to them all what just transpired. Everyone, including Julian, remains silent when I’m finished.
“Now what do we do?” Helen asks, sounding distraught and looking at me as if I should have all the answers.
“It’s obvious to me that we’ll need someone more magically powerful than Gerald was,” Gage says, unable to take his eyes off of his friend’s ashes. “I think we’re going to have to ask Fiona or Ryker for help. They’re the most formidable wielders of magic in the world. They might know what to do next.”
“They won’t do it just because we ask,” Julian is quick to point out. “I know their type too well. The cost for their help might be higher than what we’re willing to pay.”
“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” I say.
“But if we tell them why we need their help,” Petru adds, “they’ll have to be told that the spirits are what make us vampires. Mira isn’t going to like that. She was fine with us experimenting on the down low, but once we make it public, we could be opening up a Pandora’s box of problems.”
“I could care less what Mira likes or doesn’t like,” I say. “She may control the creatures here in New Orleans, but she doesn’t control you or Julian.”
“But as you just pointed out,” Julian says to me, “she controls the creatures here. She may forbid the witches and warlocks from helping us at all, which may make this a moot argument anyway.”
I feel my heart sink down to my stomach because I know Julian is right. Mira loves being a vampire. She’ll never willingly give her underlings power over her. If Fiona and Ryker do indeed find a way to rid Julian of his spirit, they’ll be armed with a weapon that they can use against her. She would then lose her control over them and the city. Mira’s vanity would never allow for that to happen.
“There is another option,” I say, drawing everyone’s attention to me, “we could ask the alfar for help.” I look over at Gage. “You did say that alfar magic is more powerful, right? Do you think they would be able to find a way to sever the tie between the girl’s spirit and Julian’s soul?”
“I wish I could answer your question, but I just don’t know enough about their magic to make an educated guess,” Gage says truthfully. “You would really need to discuss things with one of their mages, unless Nadia knows.”
“As far as I know,” Nadia says, “our mages leave the dead alone. I have no idea if they can help you or not in this matter.”
“Whether they can help or not, I would rather leave the alfar out of this,” Julian states, standing from the couch. “You have a responsibility to keep them protected, Sarah. Having them sacrifice their lives for you is one thing, but possibly causing their deaths to help me out is not acceptable. How do you think they’ll feel if one of the first things their future ruler does is sacrifice their mages to help her sentinel? I think we should keep this problem on Earth for now and not involve the alfar at all.”
“I understand your argument, but I don’t think we should shut the door completely on asking the alfar for help in this situation, Julian,” I argue. “Yes. You are my sentinel and the man I intend to marry one day. That’s exactly why I’ll do whatever needs to be done to help you live your life the way you want to live it!”
“At the expense of alfar lives?” he questions hotly. “That isn’t a solution I will endorse. Not now. Not ever, Sarah. Please, promise me you won’t involve them in any of this.”
“I can’t promise you that,” I say stubbornly, unwilling to lie just to placate him. “We can try it your way, but if we can’t find a solution here on Earth, I’ll do whatever I have to in order to help you.”
Julian’s expression turns as dark as a thunder cloud, and I know he’s mad at me. It can’t be helped. I won’t tell him what he wants to hear just to keep him from being angry with me. Lying would be a disservice to not only him, but me as well.
“What are we going to do about Gerald’s remains?” Nadia asks, looking at the pile of
ashes as Viktor walks around it, eyeing it suspiciously.
“I’ll deal with it,” Gage tells us. “I’ll tell everyone that I came to see Gerald and found him like this. He didn’t have any family, or friends for that matter, besides me. No one will ask too many questions about how he died. They’ll all assume he fell off the dark magic wagon and performed a spell that was too much for him to handle, which isn’t too far from the truth.”
I didn’t know Gerald very well, and sadly enough, his death doesn’t affect me as much as I wish it did. That in itself is sad. You should have at least one person shed a tear for you when you leave this world, yet, according to Gage, the odds are against anyone doing that for poor Gerald.
“We should probably leave then,” Nadia tells me. “I don’t think any of us should be within the vicinity when Gage reports the death.”
As we all depart Gerald’s candy store, I glance at the counter and see a tray of chocolate truffles. Helen will never get the recipe from Gerald now. The thought makes me sad for some reason. What did Gerald leave behind for the world to remember him by? Will he end up joining the legion of forgotten souls who never left their mark on the world, or will he only be remembered by those who knew him as a warlock who delved too deeply into dark magic and never truly crawled out from under its pull? The thought brings tears to my eyes. We may have denied Gerald the one thing he was striving to do with his life: to regain the respect of those who looked down on him here in New Orleans.
As we all make our way down the sidewalk toward the parking garage, I feel Julian take hold of my hand with his and gently pull on it to purposely slow my pace. Once a little distance has been placed between us and the others, Julian simply says, “I’m sorry.”
I stop walking, which makes Julian stop walking as well to face me.
“What do you have to be sorry about?” I ask.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess. If Petru and I hadn’t searched so hard for a way to be human again, your life would have never been placed in danger. I’ve given you false hope that we can have a normal life one day. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m old enough to know better.”
