‘It makes sense,’ he frowned. ‘But if that is the case, it would be almost impossible to find him.’
‘Maybe not,’ Olivia shook her head. ‘Let’s start with something we do know for certain.’
‘And that is?’
‘He’s a demon,’ she replied. ‘So what we need to ask is, where do demons come from? If he’s as old as we think, it will hopefully narrow down the search field.’
‘That’s not a bad idea actually,’ Theo conceded then looked up at the sudden knock at the door.
Olivia lifted her feet, allowing him to slide out from under her, and he disappeared from the room. Listening curiously, she heard the door open and muffled voices in the hall. Swinging her legs over the side of the couch, she looked up as Theo entered the room, followed by Roni.
‘Hi,’ Roni wandered into the room, hitching her purse on her shoulder and clutching an elegant envelope.
‘Hey Roni,’ Olivia smiled, ‘how are things going down at the museum?’
‘Busy,’ she smiled in return. ‘Did I mention to you the other day about the reception we’re supposed to be hosting this weekend?’
‘I seem to recall you mentioning something like that,’ she nodded.
Roni seated herself comfortably on a nearby chair.
‘Would you like something to drink Roni?’ Theo asked.
‘Actually I’d love a glass of wine,’ she sighed. ‘After the day I’ve had, I’m exhausted.’
Theo nodded with a smile and left the room.
‘So what’s this reception in aid of?’
‘The Massachusetts State Historical and Preservation Society are having their annual fundraiser and auction and it’s our turn to host it. I’m very excited actually, this will be the first time it’s ever been hosted in Mercy. Usually we lose out to Boston, Philadelphia or Salem.’
‘Roni,’ Olivia beamed at her, ‘I’m so proud of you. You know it’s because of all the amazing things you’ve done with the museum, don’t you?’
‘No,’ Roni flushed, ‘it was Renata mostly. I just finished up what she started.’
‘Stop being modest,’ Olivia told her bluntly. ‘Renata may have had the idea for the expansion, but it’s you who’s put the Museum on the map. It’s you who’s built up its reputation.’
‘You sound like Jake,’ Roni laughed.
‘Well for once then, he’s right,’ Olivia chuckled back, ‘but don’t tell him I said that.’
‘I won’t,’ she replied in amusement, ‘his ego’s had enough stoking lately.’
‘Oh?’ Olivia asked.
‘Well it’s not official yet,’ she answered, ‘but Mac’s promoting him.’
‘That’s fantastic news,’ Olivia smiled at the pride in her friend’s voice.
‘We think so,’ she nodded, ‘anyway, this is for you.’
She handed her the envelope and as Olivia turned the heavyweight paper over in her hands she read the elegant calligraphy inscribed on the front. It was addressed to Mr & Mrs Beckett-West.
She smiled to herself; it always gave her a little jolt of happiness to see her new name. Suddenly something inside her relaxed, as she remembered the moment she’d told Theo she was taking his name. Unlike all the other women in her family who’d religiously kept their maiden names to keep the family name alive, as no boy had ever been born into the West line.
She’d told Theo she didn’t want to make the same mistakes her family had, that it was going to be different this time around. She needed that reminder. Yes, she felt the darkness, the same as the rest of the West women, but if Hester had managed to resist it, then damn it, so could she. She had a life of her own, she would soon have children of her own, she wasn’t going to wallow in ‘what if’s’ anymore.
‘It’s an invitation for you and Theo,’ Roni told her, interrupting her small epiphany.
‘An invitation to what?’ Theo wandered back into the room and handed Roni a delicate glass of crisp white wine.
‘To the fundraiser reception at the Museum this weekend,’ Olivia told him as she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the card inside. ‘What do you think? Want to dust off your Tux?’
‘Do you want to go?’ he asked her.
‘I don’t think I have anything that will fit me,’ she frowned, glancing down at her belly.
Dr Wilson had been right. She’d started to notice her belly rounding not long after her first appointment and since then it had been growing almost daily. In fact, if it kept up, she was going to be enormous by the time she was ready to give birth.
‘Louisa will probably have something you can borrow,’ Roni told her. ‘She looks like she’s about to pop any day now, but if you don’t want to borrow something we can always go shopping tomorrow. I’ll help you pick something out.’
‘I guess,’ Olivia replied thoughtfully.
‘We should go,’ Theo glanced down at Olivia as he sat down on the arm of the couch next to her. ‘It’ll do you good to get out and away from the journals for a while.’
‘Umm, I have to confess,’ Roni flushed sheepishly, ‘I do have a little bit of an ulterior motive for hand delivering your invitation.’
‘Oh?’ Olivia replied curiously.
‘I was wondering if I could convince you to give a little speech. Not only are you a local and a direct descendant of one of the founders of the town, but you are a respected historian and author in your own right.’
‘Uh-huh…’ Olivia’s eyes narrowed slightly.
‘Also,’ Roni rushed on, ‘the Governor of Massachusetts, Simon Flores will be there. So will Corinne Coleman, the head of the Massachusetts Historical Society.’
‘You want to leave a lasting impression,’ Olivia’s mouth curved.
‘I want to put Mercy on the map. I want to establish us alongside Boston and Salem as a serious contender, not just for future funding, but as a choice venue to host historical conferences and events. So I’m pulling out all the stops and breaking out the big guns.’
‘I’m not sure I could be described as a big gun,’ Olivia laughed, ‘but I’m more than happy to give a speech for you.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Roni breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I really appreciate it.’
‘You might not be saying that tomorrow when I’m dragging you everywhere to look for a dress,’ Olivia warned. ‘My hormones are starting to kick in.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Roni chuckled, ‘I’m used to Louisa. I have a pretty thick skin now.’
‘You’re going to need it,’ Olivia laughed.
The sun hung low in the sky, not quite dusk but that quiet place in between, when the sky dimmed and the air was filled with the last hazy scents of the dying days of summer. The water of the lake was glassy and still, with no breeze in the warm humid air. The crickets chirped in the tall grass of the shore and somewhere in the trees behind came the soft chipping sound of a broad billed Hummingbird, dancing in the air, its colorful coat of metallic green reflecting the muted light.
Nathaniel’s eyes locked on the Stick style house, which was bathed in light and shadow. His white eyes were unblinking and his lips drawn into a tight line. His black hair shone almost blue as he turned and glanced at the shield set in place around the boundaries of the land.
He could feel the low pulse of power, like a heartbeat, encasing the house and the land surrounding it. The air hummed with energy, like a live wire. He could almost taste the metallic tang of it. He took a slow and measured step forward, but before he could even touch the outer edge of the wards, he was pushed back so abruptly his heels gouged out chunks of the springy turf beneath his feet.
His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth made an audible grinding sound, his eyes flashed angrily and he stepped up to the wards once again. This time he was shoved back so forcefully he almost stumbled. Catching himself just in time, he straightened up and stared hatefully at the house on the other side of the shield, as distant and inaccessibl
e as the moon.
So it seemed the youngest West packed quite a punch when it came to her protective wards. He could feel her magic running through the invisible wall of power like a network of blood vessels. She’d infused the wards with fire, ancient magic it was. He felt the low pulse of her Witch fire and for a second his skin tingled with the faint echo of how it had felt the night they stood in his house in Salem, the first night she’d conjured Witch fire.
He would not be able to pass the wards, not alone. They were too strong, it would take too long to find a way around them. No, he would have to wait until she gave up hiding and left her sanctuary.
Suddenly his back stiffened, his shoulders tense and wary. He could sense something else, something older and more powerful, and it carried with it the stench of the Underworld. He unconsciously stepped back further into the woods, using the trees as cover. Adopting a more defensive posture his eyes darted about, searching warily. His teeth peeled back in a silent snarl as two giant cats padded into view, invisible to the human field of perception.
They bore a striking similarity to the wild panthers of the mortal world but the similarity ended there. These creatures stood nearly as tall as horses, one with a sleek glossy coat of a blue black hue, its eyes a deep dark jade and the other creature its complete opposite, with a coat of pure white and eyes as pale as ice. He knew of these creature, they were ancient and vicious, and…Nathaniel thought furiously, completely loyal to Hades.
Damn him. If he had his beasts guarding the girl there would be no way to get close enough to her. With a snarl of frustration he abruptly turned away, swirling into a sudden rush of green demon smoke, disappearing from the woods and reappearing in the parking lot of the Black Cat motel. Ignoring the squat two storey building he looked up at the giant sign in the shape of a black cat, its reflective eyes glowing in the dim light. At first he’d thought hiding out there was amusing, but looking up at the sign taunting him and now knowing that Hades’ pets were guarding the one Witch he was desperate to get his hands on, it infuriated him.
Stepping into the small room he had procured for himself, he stepped over the corpse of the former resident and locked the door behind him. He paced the room agitatedly, his jaw grinding with a cringing sound. He needed to calm down, to think. He wanted nothing more than to tear the whole town to pieces brick by filthy, diseased brick. He’d been thwarted again. Even with the heady power of a human soul pulsing through his veins he still needed to be cautious.
His mind was once again drawn back to Salem, and Olivia West. She’d been the answer all along and he’d had her in his hands. It still galled him that she’d escaped his grasp. The slippery little bitch had bound him in Witch fire, which had caused him some pain but not enough to hold him. He would have been able to break free and go after her, if it hadn’t been for that little whore, Tituba.
He now knew exactly who she really was, and what. The human slave, that wasn’t human at all. It was a testament to her power, he thought, that she’d been able to hide that fact from him for so long. But then again he hadn’t really been interested in her, he’d simply been amusing himself with her, which was why he’d not bothered to look any closer.
A mistake he’d paid dearly for. That fucking whore had bound him in a churning sphere of sea water, which had held firm with magic. It had taken him nearly sixty years to break free, but when he’d finally crawled out of his watery prison under the cover of a moonless night, decades had passed and Salem was completely different to the one he’d left behind.
After which, he’d learned of a great fire which had ravaged most of the town and killed over half of the residents. Anyone who’d known the cleric Nathaniel was gone, his house burned to the ground and any allies he’d had were long since dead.
Salem had forgotten him. Which had been just as well, he was finished with the filthy pig hovel. He was done amusing himself with the humans and their petty perversions.
He wanted blood and not just any blood; West blood.
He’d been in a rage. He’d torn the countryside apart looking for Hester and her sister and when he finally found them he’d gone blazing after them in a blinding fury. He paid for that lapse in judgment.
Three hundred years he’d spent in the devil’s trap that Hester had tricked him into. Then when he’d finally broken free, it was to be imprisoned by Isabel West, a second rate witch with almost no magical ability.
He’d been so arrogant. Even tied up in that rotting pig suit he’d still believed he’d held the upper hand, that he had control of her. She’d proved him wrong. He should have learned after all the centuries he’d spent hunting the West bloodline never to underestimate the West Women, yet he had done so, time and time again. Malicious, manipulative tricksters, all of them. He could almost admire them, if he didn’t despise them so much.
His brother had always been the complete opposite of him. Seth had been the cool, calm voice of reason, whereas Nathaniel had always been rash and hot-headed. His temper had led him into trouble time and time again, and where had it got him? Trapped, first in a ball of water, then a devil’s trap and then in a decomposing body of mismatched human flesh.
Not this time.
He was so close. The book stirred, he could feel it. For the first time in two millennia he could feel it waking. He wanted it, needed it. He was so close to freeing his brother, he couldn’t afford another mistake. No, this time he need to bide his time, he needed patience and… he needed allies.
Raising his hand, the sparse furniture in the room was suddenly pushed outwards to pile up against the walls revealing the wooden floor. A huge blackened pentagram appeared, as if burned into the bare floor. Scrawled across, in and around the pentagram itself, were strange spidery looking sigils. He grabbed a rough sack which sat on the bed and began to pull out strange looking items. Bundles of dried herbs, a bag of foul smelling soil which seemed to carry with it the unpleasant stench of decomposition. He pulled several thick stumpy black candles inscribed with more sigils, followed by what appeared to be a feline skull and a cruel curved birdlike claw.
He took his time arranging the items around the pentagram, muttering in a strange guttural language as he went. Once he’d arranged everything to his satisfaction he lit the black candles which were spaced at intervals between the points of the star shape. They gave off a strange, oily,gray smoke which soon filled the air with an unpleasant smog, punctuated only by the sooty orange glow of the candle flames.
He began to chant again, an ancient complex language which rose and fell in cadence. The ground began to throb and bubble as if the wood itself had become liquid. It stretched and heaved and suddenly the strange fluid floor split like a membrane. The room was engulfed in a thick, heavy, choking smog, which held a distinctly unpleasant stench.
Nathaniel seemed completely unfazed. He stood calmly as the smoke began to clear and when it did a woman stood in the center of the pentagram. Her lush and curvy body was wrapped in a killer red satin dress, her skin was pale as ivory, her lips blood red, and her hair spilled down her back in thick crimson coils.
‘Sabine,’ Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed, ‘I didn’t summon you. Where is Zachary?’
‘My lord,’ Sabine stepped away from the burned star on tall elegant heels, her dark eyes glittering dangerously, ‘we don’t know where Zachary is.’
‘Explain.’
‘He was lost at the skirmish at Epsilon,’ she told him coolly. Although she addressed him respectfully as ‘my lord’, there was no hint of deference in her tone, and there was a flash of barely concealed anger in her eyes. ‘When you disappeared with the…witch,’ she spat the word as if it were distasteful.
‘What do you mean, lost?’
‘Hades has him,’ she replied tightly. ‘We have not been able to ascertain his whereabouts and as we had not heard from you, the others did not want to risk crossing over from Hell into Hades’ domain...the cowards.’
‘I see,’ his eyes
narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Who has been in charge since Zachary’s capture?’
‘Aaron likes to think he is,’ she scoffed in contempt, ‘but the truth is he’s just the one who shouts the loudest, there is no clear leadership. In your absence Zachary was the only one holding them in order. The uprising is faltering; Hades is regaining control.’
Nathaniel hissed.
‘You are now in charge.’
‘My lord,’ she purred with sudden capitulation, her mouth curving smugly, ‘and what if the others won’t accept my authority?’
‘Deal with them as you please,’ Nathaniel replied smoothly, raising a brow slowly. ‘I know you’ve learned a trick or two from Zachary after all the time you spent together in Prague.’
‘Your wish, my lord,’ she smiled in satisfaction.
‘And the first thing I want you to do is find Zachary. I don’t care if you have to go into Hades’ domain; I don’t care if Hell declares war on Hades. I want him found, do I make myself clear?’
‘Crystal,’ her eyes glittered with excitement.
‘Once you have his location report back to me immediately.’
‘How will we get him out?’ she asked curiously. ‘If Hades isn’t finished with him, it won’t be easy.’
‘You just leave that to me,’ Nathaniel replied darkly, ‘I think it’s time to call in a favor.’
6.
‘YOU SPOKE WITH YOUR MOTHER?’
Olivia sighed as she heard the door slam loudly.
‘Hello dad,’ she answered, not looking up from her iPad.
‘Don’t hello dad me, Olivia,’ Charles ground out from between clenched jaws. ‘You not only saw your mother, but you sat and had a conversation with her?’
Olivia placed her iPad down calmly on the table and picked up her cup, taking a sip of her tea. Her gaze raked over her father’s furious express and tense stance and across to the pale haired man standing behind him, with an apologetic look on his face.
The Guardians Complete Series 1 Box Set: Contains Mercy, The Ferryman, Crossroads, Witchfinder, Infernum Page 162
