by Sandy Wright
Nicholas nodded. "I'd like to work on your recall. Hypnotism is much like meditation, except I will guide you to the point where you can do the visualization on your own. It should also help you with your next assignments, as we will be practicing guided meditation extensively. Do you have time to try it?"
I shrugged. "Sure. I don't have to be at work until ten."
We went into the study and I sat in one of the leather chairs facing the fireplace. The burning logs provided the main light and warmed the legs of my jeans.
"Just get comfortable and concentrate on the flames," Nicholas said in a soothing voice. "Take a deep breath and let it out as you watch the fire. Take another breath and let it out slowly. As you do, feel your body begin to relax."
I watched a tiny blue flame lick around the top log. It flowed along the wood, back and forth, disappearing and re-appearing. Nicholas' voice continued. "Become aware of your arms, let them relax. Let the muscles become loose and limp…even more relaxed. Good, you're doing just fine."
My entire body uncoiled as if the tension had gone out of a spring. My eyelids felt so heavy I had trouble keeping them open to watch the flame. When Nicholas finally said, "If you're ready, close your eyes," I did so with relief.
"Imagine you're at the top of a flight of steps and start down," Nicholas said. "With each step you become more relaxed."
I walked slowly down the dark stairs as he talked.
"At the bottom of the stairs is the street where you saw the old woman's ghost and the accident," he told me. "Go out onto the sidewalk and look around."
My left hand twitched and I felt a rush of anxiety, but Nicholas's voice soothed me. "You're doing fine, you will not be afraid. This isn't really happening; it's more like a movie. Because it is a movie, you can slow down the scene. You will watch in slow motion this time."
The old woman floated into the street, her gray hair curling around her face and neck in the breeze, although I could not feel the air stirring.
"Tell me what you are seeing," Nicholas instructed.
I tried to swallow, but my throat wouldn't work properly. I licked my lips. "I see the woman."
"Tell me what she looks like."
I scrutinized her face. "Dark eyes, long gray hair, long nose, thin lips." My voice sounded slow and dragging. "She looks to be in her seventies, maybe older."
"What does she have on?" Nicholas prompted. "Is she carrying anything?"
I ran my eyes down the woman's body. "She's wearing a black winter coat with a purple wool scarf tucked into the collar. Black leather gloves." I looked closer. "She has some kind of bag in her hand, a plastic bag with a box inside."
From far away I heard Nicholas take a sharp hiss of breath. I looked beyond the woman into the street and saw the black pickup truck parked on the side of the street, its headlights dark.
Suddenly the high beams came on, blinding me. The truck careened onto the road, tires screeching as it accelerated toward her.
"Look out!" I cried, but it was too late.
"You are seeing the scene in slow motion!" Nicholas cut in. "Slow everything down. Look at the driver. Describe what you see."
I strained to see the face behind the steering wheel in the dark truck. As it neared the woman, the truck passed beneath a streetlamp. In the light I saw the driver's face. His features contorted with hate. "Nuin," I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks.
The truck careened past me and I watched myself topple over backwards into the oleander bush. Nuin jumped out of the black truck and ran to the body. He knelt by the old woman and lowered his head to bite a chunk of flesh from her shoulder, a second from her neck. He raised his head and looked around, his mouth bloody. Then he stood and ran back to his idling truck, hopped in and took off.
I heard a voice saying "Oh my god, oh my god!" over and over. My body began to shake uncontrollably.
Nicholas' voice broke into my nightmare. "I'm going to count backwards from five, and when I reach one, your eyes will open and you will feel relaxed and refreshed. You will remember nothing. I repeat, you will remember nothing. Five…four…three…."
I opened my eyes and stretched, popping my ears with a huge yawn. "Did it work? Did you hypnotize me?"
Nicholas looked at me in silence a moment before shaking his head. "You're not an easy subject." His face drained of color, and his jaw clenched. A telltale vein throbbed. He was going to have a doozy of a headache later.
I blinked, trying to remember any detail of my dream. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"Don't worry about it. We'll try again another time."
A bell rang from the front of the house, pulling me from the last of my lethargy. Nicholas rose and hurried from the room.
I sat up and slipped my shoes on to follow him, but stopped when I heard the low murmur of voices in the hallway. The visitor was female. I slid along the staircase wall, out of sight, and listened.
"Something's happening." The visitor sounded excited. "You said you wanted to go."
I couldn't hear Nicholas's reply, but the female became more agitated. "Yes! Soon, maybe tonight."
"Wait for me outside."
The voices fell abruptly silent and footsteps approached. I tried to backtrack into the study. Too late.
Nicholas appeared in the hall holding my parka and looking grim. "I apologize for the abrupt goodbye, but something of importance has come up which requires my immediate attention." His tone clipped and formal. He held the coat as I slipped my arms into the sleeves. Taking my arm, he led me to my suitcase by the door.
He put his hand on the doorknob, blocking my exit. "I would like you to practice meditating on your own this week. It will help you relax for hypnotic work. Perhaps we will have better results next time."
He turned the knob and opened the door a crack, pausing once more. "Call me if you have any questions. Let me know when you're ready to try again."
I nodded and walked into the cold morning, smiling square into Lilith's surprised face as I passed her on the front stairs
Chapter 38: Los Oscuros
"My, isn't this cozy," Lilith sneered. "She's staying at your house now?"
Nicholas looked down his nose at her. "I'm sorry. Explain to me why my personal life is any of your business."
Lilith slid her hand into his upturned collar and ran her fingers over the nape of his neck. "I was under the impression I was part of your personal life." She breathed the words onto his lips, leaving little puffs of condensation with every exhalation.
Staring at her, Nicholas felt an intense mixture of dislike and desire. He snaked his hand out, taking her wrist and squeezing until he felt the bones scrape together. But hurting her didn't dissipate the impotent fury he still felt, remembering Samantha describe how Nuin murdered his grandmother. How he desecrated her body.
He pulled her fingers from his neck, breathing hard.
Lilith grimaced and cradled her sore wrist. "You could be a little bit grateful. After all, I did bring you the information you wanted." She pressed herself against him again. "You could at least invite me in."
"No." His tone was distracted, his mind already planning the job ahead. He pulled her down the steps. Holding his hand out for her keys, he unlocked her car and half-pushed her into the driver's seat.
"I'll let you know shortly what the next step will be. After I've visited." He put the car keys back in her hand. Leaving her in the driveway, he strode into the house.
* * * * *
Just after sunset, Nicholas pulled off the gravel road onto the private drive. He stopped at the entrance and stepped out to open the wooden gate, then drove into the stand of pine trees, which partially hid his vehicle from the road.
A quadrangle lay in the middle of the trees, bounded on one side by the chapel and vestry of an old monastery. On the other side stood the remains of the abbot's lodging, now roofless and crumbled.
Further back, the church had also been aba
ndoned to the slow ravages of decay. The tower with its lofty spire still stood, but a jagged crack ran from top to base. Amazingly, the side chapel had all of its slim stained-glass windows intact.
Nicholas parked under a lone pine. He scanned the structures through the windshield for any signs of life. Pulling a penlight from the glove compartment, he pocketed his keys and headed into the quad, his boots silent on the soft ground.
The long line of broken pillars and crumbling arches cast eerie shadows on the stone path where it wound through the ruins, and beyond, past the remains of what was once a garden, to the chapel steps.
He turned the brass knob on the chapel door and found it un-locked. Suspicious, he stepped back from the doorway and prodded the door open with the toe of his boot. The smell of stale incense and candle wax drifted through the open door from the darkness beyond.
He took a cautious step into the chapel and closed the door softly before snapping on his light.
Through the narrow stained-glass windows, the rising moon cast faint shafts of amber light on the wooden pews. A sigil of Baphomet hung in an arched Gothic niche at the front of the chapel. The magnificent stained glass over the altar lit the goat-like creature's face so it appeared to float in the air over the pedestal table. The altar itself appeared intact but the traditional white taper candles had been replaced with thick black ones.
He had found the site.
Nicholas circled the chapel silently before stepping outside, closing the door behind him. With the flashlight illuminating the way, he walked across the quadrangle and through the back gate into the little graveyard beyond.
As he approached the last row of headstones, a circle of light in the distance caught his attention. He flipped off the flashlight, straining to see the source. A breeze whistled softly through the treetops, making the frozen branches shiver and carrying the faintest sound of voices.
Keeping to the shadows, Nicholas edged his way to the perimeter of the graveyard. The caretaker's cottage, just outside the cemetery, glowed with soft light in the back window. Crouching, Nicholas tiptoed closer to the dark window in the front. He heard several men in heated argument inside.
One adamant voice said, "She will be useless after the blood moon."
"I understand, but I'm sure I will be able…" Nuin's familiar voice replied.
"Stop!" A third voice, obviously the leader, ordered. "You will continue in the role of contact. We have almost a month–and already your body grows stronger." The voice trailed away, and leather creaked as someone shifted in a chair. "So New Year's will be enough time to bring this Danroe girl to our group?"
Alarmed at the mention of Samantha's name, Nicholas crept directly under the window and peeked inside. Nuin answered, "She trusts me. Don't worry, she'll help us."
The voices moved closer. He caught a glimpse of two figures, silhouetted against the lamp light, but could not make out their faces.
"I don't want you drawing any unnecessary attention to yourself just yet," the authoritative one said.
Nicholas pulled away from the window and retreated back into the shadows as the screen door slammed and a figure left the cabin and got into one of the vehicles parked in front of the cottage.
* * * * *
Nicholas got home after three in the morning, his fingers numb and his heart aching. He had remained hidden in the woods for another hour, watching the men leave the cabin at intervals.
The last two he had never seen before, but the first, he was certain was Nuin.
He sank into the leather chair in front of the fireplace. Covering his face with his hands, he stared into the quiet blackness of his head.
So Nuin was involved. The fact was no surprise to him. It merely confirmed Samantha's vision and clarified the task for which he had come to Arizona.
But Samantha working with him? The revelation put a knot of hard sorrow in his heart. Their alliance changed everything.
Nicholas wandered into the kitchen and put on the kettle for tea, unsure for the first time what his next move should be. Adding sugar and lemon to his chamomile, he looked over to Samantha's tarot spread still fanned out on the kitchen table.
He gathered the remaining deck, composing a question in his mind as he shuffled: What is Samantha's motivation? What is her motivation? What in hell is her motivation? He flipped over a card, dropping it on top of the little pile. The Page of Cups, but reversed. Nicholas stared at the card, puzzled. An emotional, energetic card reversed. So I have received some messages, probably intuitive, which I am failing to heed. But wake up, cards. I need to know Samantha's motivation as well as my own.
Still focused inward at his own reactions, Nicholas turned over a second card and had to laugh. The Lovers. Wouldn't you just know it? But when he considered the deeper meanings, the card made a lot of sense. The words for the Lovers were I choose; the commitment could be not only to a person, but also to a crucial decision. Unity of heart and mind. Suddenly, Nicholas saw clearly what the cards were telling him: Follow your heart to make your decision. But could he? Thinking about it made him feel naked and vulnerable.
His tea was cold. He turned the burner back on under the kettle, and collapsed into a chair, not noticing the morning dawn brightening the room around him. I have received messages but have failed to heed them. Follow your heart. Messages, but not clear enough to guide his steps. I must find out more, he decided. Time to take a little trip into Samantha's mind.
Chapter 39: Dark Intentions
I pushed the button, and my range target came swinging up the line. I smiled with grim satisfaction at the ten-inch array of holes. Not bulls' eyes, but all would be solid body hits. My 'no mind' breathing and meditation work with both Nicholas and Sinclair had the added benefit of more accurate aim, no jerk or wobble. Who knew? Meditation and firearms cross-training.
"I should just tell Nicholas I've already done his 'no mind' work with Sinclair," I said to Rumor when I returned to work. "I know it's important, but I'm running out of time."
"Then call him," she replied.
I dialed his number from my desk. He sounded half-asleep. "Based on your lack of response to hypnosis, I'd still like you to do some exercises, but perhaps you can work on specific issues," he said.
"Each time you practice, take an issue that angers or scares you. Work specifically with the chakra you feel is most closely related to the problem. Do your aura cleansing practice every day until the issue is resolved. You don't have to make it a huge orchestrated process. But do concentrate each time on eliminating a distraction, and filling your chakra with white light. Remember what I told you. Your enemies will use any little niche they can find to get into your psyche." He paused. "Give me a couple of examples, so I can see you understand."
I said the first thing that came into my mind. "I felt abandoned by my ex. I felt forced to move away from him."
"Good one to start with," Nicholas said encouragingly. "What chakra would you associate with feelings of abandonment?"
"Root," I responded immediately, "and probably heart also?"
"Exactly. Give me another example."
"This one is harder," I said slowly. "It's about my feelings toward studying witchcraft. I'm scared if I do a spell, it will actually happen."
"Perfectly understandable," he replied. "I would suggest you start working with your root, and then move into your third eye and crown chakras. Do you understand why?"
I thought for a moment. "The root to overcome my physical fear. Then the third eye to strengthen my psychic power?"
"Excellent. And why the crown?"
"I'm not sure," I said.
"The crown will actually be the easiest of all, I think, once you begin. It strengthens your relationship with the Goddess and divine spirit. Once you put yourself in her hands, you will feel more secure and clear regarding your path."
I thought about the woman opening the lion's mouth on the tarot card. "Okay, I'll try it."
> "Do we need to run through more examples?" he asked.
I wanted to work on several other issues, but since they involved Nicholas himself, I didn't share. "No, I'm ready to start."
"Great! I have every faith in you, Samantha. Practice this weekend, and plan to come to my house on Sunday for the next phase of exercises."
* * * * *
I started my lessons Friday after work.
I'd told Nicholas I felt abandoned by my ex-husband, but that wasn't precisely true. I didn't miss him at all – we hadn't had much in common to start with except a love of football and soccer, and our shared business. It was more about our mutual friends. I felt they had abandoned me and left me alone in my new life. Why did I have to give them up while he suffered no loss?
Interestingly, as I meditated on my question, I discovered they hadn't left me. If I made the effort to reach out to them, they would respond. How did I know this? No idea. I hadn't heard from any of them since moving, but I hadn't distributed my address or phone number either.
To test my new theory, I decided I would send holiday cards to my old list and see where the chips fell. I felt lighter just making the decision.
Nicholas was right about becoming more comfortable with magic. As soon as I started working on my crown chakra, I again experienced a feeling of lightness, a burden removed from my shoulders. Call it magic, positive thinking, or just deep relaxation, the process agreed with me.
Then I began to tackle the Nicholas issues, using his business card as a personal prompt to strengthen my connection to him. I put myself in a no mind state and slowly added Nicholas to the scene by holding his card. I envisioned him supporting me, not berating or criticizing. By the end of the weekend I could mentally introduce his presence and welcome him.
Next, I tried the same approach with Nuin. I was pretty sure the athame I'd found was his, so I placed it next to me and put myself into a light meditative state. When I was prepared, I reached over and picked up the knife.
Wham! The images slammed into me so hard I felt like I'd run into a brick wall. I fell over backwards, legs still in lotus position, the athame clenched in my fist as if an electrical shock ran through me, locking my muscles in spasm. Scenes tumbled though my mind, crowding and overlapping one another. A dark room lit with black candles. A naked woman lying prone on a stone slab, her arms outstretched to her sides, mimicking a cross. A dark-robed priest kissing the woman's genitals. I gasped and focused all my will into forcing my fingers to uncurl. The athame dropped to the floor. Instantly, the nightmarish images vanished.
