Legacy & Spellbound

by Nancy Holder

  “And why is that?”

  She smiled, a little wicked smile that felt like daggers of ice being showered at him. “Because while you were inside buying soda, I rigged your car to explode.”

  He froze, his hand still on the handle. With his mind he began to probe the car, looking for something, anything. It was his eyes that saw it, though. There, lying on the passenger side seat, was a tiny black box with wires running out of it. It could be a fake, he thought.

  “Are you willing to risk it?” she asked. “Not only your life, and my life, but also the life of the poor slob behind the counter, and theirs,” she said with a nod. He turned to watch as a family poured out of a station wagon that had just parked at a nearby pump. They were all wearing matching Mickey Mouse shirts, and it was clear from their exhausted yet happy faces where they had just come from.

  A bead of sweat trickled down the middle of his back as he instinctually turned his face away so that the children wouldn’t see his scars. Strange, he thought, as he stared again at the woman. I didn’t care at all what she thought of them, even before she attacked me.

  “If I go with you, you’ll defuse the car so that no one will be injured after we leave?”

  She hesitated for a moment before nodding.

  “All right,” he agreed.

  “Take your hand off the handle, gently,” she instructed.

  He did as he was told and then stepped back away from the car.

  “Good boy,” she crooned. “Now, get in the van.”

  He gave her a wide berth as he did so. As soon as he closed the door, she headed for his car. The mirrors in the van were angled to let him see what she was doing, and before she could adjust them she had appeared at the van’s driver-side door. She opened it and hopped in.

  “Finished?” he asked, surprised.

  “Sure,” she answered as she started the engine and put the van into gear. As they merged back onto Interstate 5, she added, “There was no bomb.”

  He put his head back against the headrest and sighed. She was clearly not to be trusted. “So, do you have a name or shall I just call you Deceiver?”

  “How about Temptress instead?” she asked in a coy voice. “My name is Eve.”

  It was going to be a long trip.

  June Cathers: Santa Paula, California, March 12, 1928 11:57 P.M.

  Four-year-old June Cathers lay awake, too excited to sleep. In the morning it would be her birthday and she would be five. In the bed next to June, her twin brothers, Timmy and Tommy, were sound asleep. She held her breath so she could listen to them breathing for a moment. They were younger than she was, and when they had been born her daddy had told her that she had to look out for them.

  She let out her breath with a whoosh . There was going to be a party tomorrow, with cake. Her grandmother was going to be there, and both her grandfathers. She only had the one grandmother. Her daddy’s mommy had died when he was younger than June. It always made her sad for her daddy when she thought about it.

  She rolled onto her side, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as she did so. She had forgotten to shut the closet door when she went to bed; she had been too excited, thinking about her birthday. The closet frightened her; there were things that moved in at night. Once, she had opened her eyes and seen shadows in her closet, shadows that stared at her.

  She had screamed and screamed, and when her mommy came she had told her she was just imagining things. She hadn’t been, though, she knew it. There were monsters in the world. She saw them sometimes and she knew they wanted to hurt her and her brothers.

  The grandfather clock began to chime midnight. She jumped and then forced herself to breathe deeply, calming herself down. She slowly began to drift off to sleep. From somewhere far off she heard something … a deep, low sound. She pulled the blankets over her head, but the sound grew louder, increasing to a dull roar. She clamped her hands over her ears, but it just got louder. At last it was deafening, and she sat up. She turned and looked at the closet just as a wall of water came rushing out of it.

  She screamed just as the water washed over her. Suddenly, a light appeared, shining brighter than anything she had ever seen. A woman stood in it, with long, flowing hair. She picked June up and held her close. The water passed around them, but did not touch them. June coughed out the water she had already swallowed as she clung to the dark-haired lady. “What’s happening?” June wailed.

  “The St. Francis Dam broke,” the lady answered, holding her closer.

  The house collapsed around them, and they remained untouched. The water washed away the debris, and they stayed where they were. At last the deluge passed, and the shining lady set her down on her feet. The mud sucked at her legs, and her night-dress was wet and dirty.

  “Be safe, ma petite June of the Cahors,” the lady said, and then she disappeared.

  June Cathers looked around at the destruction of her home and her town. Her family, her parents, and her little brothers were gone, they were dead. She was five years old, and it was her birthday.

  NINE

  BAST

  Something now in the wind

  Reveals to us all our sin

  We meet this darkness with more hate

  This alone a Deveraux’s fate

  Cahors watch and Cahors pray

  Wish away the light of day

  For in the night alone we sing

  Dancing in a silver ring

  Tri-Coven: Santa Cruz

  “Goddess, how I miss Nicole,” Philippe prayed, as he lay in his narrow bed. “Let me find her well and safe.”

  He rolled onto his side, preparing for another sleepless night. He couldn’t rest since Nicole had been taken—again by James and Eli!

  He found Pablo staring at him. “What is it, hijo?”

  “We will find her,” Pablo whispered.

  “Thanks, Pablo,” Philippe answered. “I only pray that it is sooner rather than later.”

  Pablo nodded at that. The other surviving member of their coven, Armand, snored quietly from his cot. Philippe raised a head to look at him.

  Leadership is a difficult burden. I do not know how José Luís bore it so long, he thought.

  “He was able to bear it so long because you were there to encourage him,” Pablo answered, reading his thoughts.

  Philippe reached out and touched Pablo’s shoulder briefly. Thank you, he thought.

  “You’re welcome,” Pablo answered.

  “Any luck in finding any of the others?”

  “Sí,” Pablo admitted. “Holly is with Michael Deveraux.”

  “Where?”

  “A place called New Mexico.”

  “And Kari and Jer?”

  “Kari is there, too, and Jer is traveling there to kill his father.”

  “Goddess grant him success,” Philippe half-said, half-prayed. “And Nicole?” he asked after a moment, afraid to hear the answer.

  Pablo shook his head, clearly frustrated. “Nothing, still.”

  “Is it possible they took her back to Avalon?”

  “I do not know, but I would guess there or London.”

  “Thank you for trying.”

  “I will not give up hope, as you must not.”

  Philippe sighed. There were days that was easier said than done. With thoughts of his missing covenates allayed for the moment, his mind turned to the other concern that had been weighing on him. “Have you sensed anything from Alex?”

  “No, he is very closed. It is hard to feel anything from him—and he is always watching, like he knows I am watching him.”

  “That makes me nervous,” Philippe confessed.

  “The High Priestess, too,” Pablo told him.

  Interesting. Maybe she and I should talk, he thought. “That would be good,” Pablo said. “I have worked on it so that he will not be able to read us three,” he said. “I will work on the others, as well.”

  “Thank you, again.”

  After lying awake for another hour trying to meditate,
Philippe drifted off into a fitful sleep. He was awakened in what seemed like minutes but was really hours, by Pablo’s excited exclamation.

  “I found her!”

  Philippe sat up, instantly alert. “Where is she?” he demanded, knowing exactly who Pablo was talking about.

  “She is on the island of Avalon. She contacted me briefly. She was trying to reach you, but couldn’t quite,” Pablo said, suddenly sounding embarrassed.

  “It is all right, Pablo,” Philippe said gently. The younger man was clearly embarrassed at having intercepted a signal meant for him from his beloved.

  “She said that she is fine and that Eli is helping her escape.”

  Philippe sighed deeply. “Goddess be praised that she is safe. I do not like that Eli is with her, but if he is to become a friend to us, I will welcome him gladly.”

  “Shall I wake the others?”

  Philippe glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “They should be up in another hour. Let them sleep. We will all need what sleep we can get. You should try to rest more too.”

  Pablo nodded and lay back down slowly. He closed his eyes, and after a moment his breathing began to even out. Philippe sat for a moment until he was sure Pablo was asleep, and then he rose and went downstairs. He found Sasha making breakfast.

  “Pablo has found Nicole,” he offered by way of greeting. “She is alive and safe on Avalon. Eli is helping her to escape.”

  A look of relief passed across her face, and she lit up like the sun. A cloud soon obscured the radiance, though, as she asked, “And what of Jer?”

  Philippe nodded. “He is on his way to confront his father.”

  She sagged against the counter, a stricken look crossing her face. “I knew in my heart that that was where he was going,” she admitted.

  “It doesn’t make it any less hard to hear it,” he said sympathetically.

  “True,” she said, forcing a smile. She visibly shook herself. “It is good to hear that Eli is helping Nicole. I wonder what has brought my son to that?”

  Philippe shrugged. “Maybe he has realized that he has been serving the master when he should have looked to the mistress.”

  Sasha smiled. “More likely it has something to do with Nicole.”

  “Yes, she can be quite persuasive when she wants to be. If he ever did love her, I am sure she can turn him to her will,” Philippe said, hating to admit even to himself that the words stung.

  The others began to straggle in slowly until everyone was present. They all looked tired, but everyone took renewed courage from the news about Nicole. Her sister, Amanda, was especially relieved.

  Last to arrive was Alex, and he, in contrast, looked fresh and rested. Philippe envied him that. Members of the Mother Coven, some of them having already been up for hours, seemed to be avoiding the kitchen. Even Luna was absent, and she had spent much time with them in the last couple of days.

  Philippe looked around at the few of them who were left. Sasha and Richard stood together. They were the parents whose children played some of the key roles in the battle that was being fought. He knew that they had taken great solace in each other’s presence of late. Barbara Davis-Chin sat at a table, sipping tea and staring around at the others. He knew Armand and Pablo were standing slightly behind him and had been engaged in earnest conversation in Spanish about everything Pablo had told him in the middle of the night. In a corner, also having their own private conversation, were Tommy and Amanda. He had his arm around her, and Philippe didn’t need Pablo’s psychic abilities to see that Amanda was both excited and upset with the news about her sister. Alex Carruthers made ten in the group.

  At last everyone had heard the news about all their missing comrades. Alex cleared his throat, and they all turned their attention to him.

  “I have spoken with Luna, and she has graciously offered us the use of the Mother Coven’s private jet and whatever they can spare in the way of equipment and people.

  “We need to rescue Nicole, and we need to take the fight to the enemy. The leader of this coven is gone, and we have to face the fact that she might not ever return. If she does, we shall welcome her back with open arms. Until that day, though, this coven needs a leader. I am the leader of my coven back home, and I propose to lead this coven into battle. To that end I pledge to you my life, my allegiance, my skill, and my knowledge.”

  There were murmurs, but no one said anything. Of all those present, Philippe was the only one who had led a coven. He had never liked leading—he was always more comfortable as the lieutenant—still, it was his place to speak for the other two coven leaders who were not present.

  Can we trust him? he asked Pablo silently.

  I do not know, but I do know that we need him, could really use his help, the boy answered in his mind.

  Which he’s not likely to give us if we oppose him in this?

  I cannot tell.

  Philippe nodded slowly. I guess we will have to take a chance. If he can help us rescue Nicole, we must . Out loud, he said, “I would consent to your taking leadership temporarily while our other two coven leaders are absent.”

  “Is it agreed, then?” Alex asked.

  “It is agreed,” Amanda answered, her bright eyes on Philippe.

  “Good. We should do the proper rituals and then we all need to rest up. Tomorrow we fly to England. Half of us will go to Avalon to rescue Nicole, and the other half will attack the Supreme Coven.”

  As the others gasped, Philippe thought, By the Goddess, what did you just do?

  That night, Philippe could again not find rest. He relived the events of the day, from the decision he had made in the kitchen, to the ceremony installing Alex as leader of the coven. All of them were to have spent the rest of the day resting and meditating, but Philippe had not been able to do either.

  Alex had retired before the rest. The others were just too worn out and too shell-shocked to rest. He glanced at Pablo. The boy was dreaming, and for a while Philippe watched him. Joy and pain passed in rapid succession across his youthful face, and Philippe wondered what his dreams were and if they were true visions of the future or fanciful flights of the mind.

  He flipped back onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He had never felt as out of sorts as he had since Nicole had been taken. She is a part of me as I am a part of her. It is as though a chunk of my soul has been taken as well, he thought. I don’t think I’ll ever know rest again unless she is at my side.

  From Nicole, his mind drifted to her newly discovered cousin. I wonder what she would say about everything that has happened? He smiled. The what-would-Nicole-say game was quickly becoming one of his favorite distractions.

  He heard gentle snoring from Armand, and more snores from the room beyond. Alex, are you asleep? If so what are you dreaming? If not, what are you doing?

  June Cathers: Santa Paula, California, March 12, 1928 11:57 P.M.

  Four-year-old June Cathers lay awake, too excited to sleep. In the morning it would be her birthday and she would be five. In the bed next to June, her twin brothers, Timmy and Tommy, were sound asleep. She rolled onto her side, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as she did so. Her closet door was open, and it was bothering her.

  It was growling and rumbling, louder and louder. She was trying not to listen to it, but it was getting so loud, she wondered why the others didn’t wake up.

  She turned and screamed.

  A wall of water rushed out of it: A river was gushing right out of her closet!

  Then suddenly, it stopped, frozen as though in midair. A light appeared, shining brighter than anything she had ever seen. A woman with beautiful, long flowing hair stood inside the light. She picked June up and held her close.

  Then a man appeared, also shining with a brilliant light. His hair was light-colored, and he was beautiful.

  He picked up Timmy and Tommy, one in each arm, and all of them huddled close together. Then the water began moving again, flowing around them. But the shining people held June and her b
rothers in their arms, standing easily in the water.

  “What’s happening?” June wailed.

  “The St. Francis Dam broke,” the man told her. “There is a curse on your family, that they will die by water. But we have saved you. You are our future.”

  “Are you an angel?” she asked, touching his face in awe.

  “No,” he said, with a faint smile. “My name is Alex, and I’m not an angel. I am someone, though, who owes his very life to you.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “Happy Birthday, June.”

  Then he and the lady disappeared.

  And June woke up to a lovely day … and she was five years old.

  Mother Coven: Santa Cruz

  Anne-Louise sat up in bed with a gasp. “Something is wrong,” she whispered out loud.

  Whisper stared at her, her head cocked to the side and her yellow eyes boring through her.

  “Something is different—changed, somehow,” Anne-Louise said, looking at the cat and praying for answers.

  The cat spoke. “The time line has shifted around you.”

  “What has caused such a thing?” Anne-Louise asked, horrified.

  “Someone has changed the past. Look to House Cahors for answers.”

  A chill shot up her spine. It was serious business to change the past. In the Mother Coven, it was an act that demanded the death of the one who had performed the powerful magic to accomplish it.

  She argued, “But if the time line has shifted, how come I’m aware of it?”

  The cat blinked at her. “Because I have allowed you to remain an observer of both.”

  Anne-Louise felt her mouth go completely dry. “What has changed?”

  “Much.”

  Eli and Nicole: Avalon

  Within minutes, Nicole’s wrist was healed. Eli had taken the time to think about how they were going to get off the island. So far he had come up with nothing, but he wasn’t willing to admit that. He looked at her. She is so beautiful, and she glows so bright . He swallowed hard. He had to know. The question had tormented him, and now it had to be asked. “Is—is the baby mine?”

  Nicole flushed scarlet as she placed a hand over her extended abdomen. “I don’t know,” she whispered.