Song of the Ancients (Ancient Magic Book 1)

by Sandy Wright

  I rolled onto my back and extended my legs, giving my cramped muscles time to relax. I felt dirty inside, as if I'd been molested, and realized my cheeks were wet with tears.

  Taking a shuddering breath, I cleared my mind of those harmful feelings, and mentally ran cleansing white light up my body from toes to head, concentrating on spinning each chakra clean with light.

  When I felt able, I stood and walked into the bedroom, retrieved my phone, and called Nicholas.

  "We need to take my training to the next stage immediately. I need to learn to protect myself."

  "Samantha, has someone threatened you?" The tension in his voice was evident, even on the phone.

  "Not exactly. But trust me: Someone is planning something really evil, and it involves me."

  "So your visualizations worked?" he asked.

  "Oh yeah," I said. "I'm way past that stage."

  "All right then, we'll work immediately on psychic protection," he answered. "Come to my house after dinner tomorrow night. Bring an overnight bag."

  Chapter 40: Magickal Passes

  I felt much calmer Sunday morning, knowing I would be spending the night with Nicholas. Or, at least I wouldn't be spending the night alone in my house. Solitude wasn't the optimal situation for me these days. Someone or something was watching me. I felt them. Somewhere in the back of my mind, an invisible presence, an insidious voice, taunted and teased. As strange as it would sound if I said it aloud, I knew. They hungered for me, and the balance was beginning to shift in their favor.

  Yes, I welcomed Nicholas's presence for a night. I didn't completely trust him, but I still welcomed his presence.

  Then I ran into Lilith.

  I had gone to the Mystery Hound to show Nicholas's gift book to Kamaria, and to ask if she'd heard of it, or knew anything about Mr. Ravenscroft. It proved unfortunate timing.

  Kamaria was at lunch and Lilith was manning the front desk. There was no avoiding her. I started to walk past her to the back of the store, but she stepped from behind the desk and blocked my path.

  "I understand you're studying with Nicholas?" she asked in a soft viper's hiss.

  "He has offered to tutor me," I replied evenly.

  "Has he told you anything regarding his…personal situation?"

  I debated how to answer her question. I didn't want to tell her anything important, but on the other hand, I didn't want her to think he shared nothing with me. "He has told me some of his family history. But I haven't asked him specifically about his private life." I frowned at her. "Why do you ask?"

  "Well, he is a very important man. More important than you realize. He doesn't have the time to tutor beginning students of the Craft." She leaned as far into my personal space as she could in her four-inch boots. "I think you should remove yourself from the situation. Immediately."

  I put my hands on my hips and stood my ground. "I see. And why doesn't Nicholas tell me this himself? Surely, if I am proving detrimental to his personal ambitions, he wouldn't hesitate to let me know." I gave her a nasty little smile. "He seems quite blunt about his wishes."

  "He'll keep you around as long as it benefits him," she said. "He has his own dark secrets and no intention of sharing them. Don't be foolish and allow yourself to be manipulated."

  Lilith would no longer meet my eyes and she'd crossed her arms in front of her chest. "He's using you isn't he," I said flatly. "I would think you'd be relieved to have his attention deflected."

  "You foolish girl. At least I went to him with my eyes open. You're wasting your time with Nicholas." She practically spat the words at me. "I've seen others try to get close to him and it never ends well. The man has no heart. He will destroy you; it's all he's capable of."

  She held out a thin hand and examined her long black nails in apparent non-concern. "However, I have a particular investment in Nicholas, and I am willing to take any action necessary to remain close to him without any distractions." Her eyes burned with challenge. "I've gotten rid of one obstacle already. I won't hesitate to eliminate another. Do I make myself clear?"

  I clamped my jaw and looked at her with loathing.

  "Crystal."

  * * * * *

  Nicholas met me at the door. He set my suitcase by the stairs and led me into the kitchen.

  "What exactly are we going to do tonight?" I accepted the glass of wine he offered.

  "I intend to teach you astral travel." He smiled at my raised eyebrows. "You are going to learn to will yourself to a specific place in dreaming."

  "Can you do that? Really?"

  "I can. And you will too."

  I shook my head. "I don't know."

  He took hold of my arms and squeezed them gently. "Sam, stop it! Every time I mention we are going to do something you haven't tried before you give me the same response. You must replace the negativity. Put it away. Instead, when I describe what we're going to try, I want you to visualize doing it already. What it feels like, sounds like, what it tastes like. Visualize it like it's already done."

  I nodded.

  "Okay, before you travel, pick a specific place you want to go. Focus your attention on it. When you arrive, take some time to adjust. You may feel disoriented. When you are ready, focus your attention on an object there and see if you can pick it up." He paused. "Object manipulation is more advanced so don't be frustrated if you cannot move anything on your first try. If you are successful, try the next step and bring it back with you."

  "You can bring an object out of your dream?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't believe it. You'll have to convince me," I shook my head.

  He gave me a sly smile. "You will be controlling your dream, so you can decide when you're going to leave and return to your body."

  "It sounds like a major energy drain."

  Nicholas paused. "It can be at first. But you are good at meditative suggestion, so I think you will be able to do this with practice. And once you've mastered astral travel, you have power. You can change things. You can discover concealed information. The ability to travel undetected is a powerful tool for a warrior. At first it seems an incredible, farfetched idea. But you've al-ready mastered the first step. I know you can do this also."

  I gave a sharp nod. "Okay, let's do it."

  "Baby steps, Sam. First me, then you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "First I will travel to you. You need to be able to recognize an astral being, control its access to you, and interact without fear."

  "What does an astral being look like?"

  "For tonight, chances are it will look like me. A watered down version, perhaps even transparent, but you'll recognize me." He paused, considering. "You may see a cord connecting me to my corporeal form."

  "Sort of like an umbilical cord? A lifeline?"

  He smiled. "Something similar. If I do this properly, you should be able to see my astral form and hear my voice in your head at the same time."

  This was going to be amazing. Intimate. A personal bond between us few couples would ever experience.

  "I think it's safer for you to know what it feels like to have someone inside your own head before you travel into theirs," he said.

  "Safer?" I didn't like his expression. "What do you mean by safer?"

  He gripped my arms. "You're being threatened, Samantha. I don't know by whom or why, and we need to find out."

  I'm sure he saw the fear his words caused but he pressed on, his voice grim.

  "To fight dark magic one must know it intimately. I have an instinct for darkness. It's what makes me good at my work. I will make you good at it also."

  It wasn't a boast. His voice was quiet and profoundly sad. For the first time I began to understand the burden he carried through life.

  "Not every entity you come in contact with is going to be friendly. They may use astral travel to harm you, or to pry information from you."

  No. I really didn't like the look on
his face.

  "To keep the exercise realistic, I may also do something you don't like, or something you find threatening. I may try to force my way in, or sneak in, or even charm my way into your head. Don't let me." He looked at me for a long time. "For our practice tonight, I am the enemy. Your job is to first identify my presence, and then kick me out."

  Leave it to Nicholas to ruin a perfectly lovely moment. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

  "Which part? Knowing what you don't like?"

  I scowled at him. "The kicking you out part."

  Nicholas put his pointer finger on my temple. "From here. Keep your mind blank, white and empty, just as you do during your no mind exercises. Learn to ward yourself before you have to do it for real. Anger and fright both weaken your barriers. If you're too angry or scared to think clearly, you can lose track of your surroundings. You might not even notice an astral presence, which could be dangerous. So treat me as the enemy. Find me and kick me out."

  "And if I can't? I don't want you coming and going in my head at will." The thought made my stomach do a queasy flip-flop.

  "Then I suggest you get creative with your defense."

  So much for the amazing bonding experience. I wrapped my arms around my chest, anticipating the assault. "Could this physically hurt me?"

  Nicholas stayed silent.

  In one frozen moment, I was reminded that Nicholas Orenda was very dangerous. More dangerous than most men. Somehow I'd known he was dangerous the first day I'd met him, but I'd grown complacent. He'd been insulting, infuriating, even cruel, but I'd never felt frightened before. I was now. His silence frightened me.

  "I'm not sure how to respond," he said finally.

  I gave him a bleak look. "Would you knowingly hurt me?"

  "That's not what you asked." He stood and began to pace slowly. "Could it hurt you? Could an attack by a psychic entity who knows you intimately hurt you? Yes it could."

  He stopped pacing and turned to face me. "But would I hurt you?" He stood directly in front of me. I could feel his stare boring into the top of my head.

  "I would never want to hurt you Samantha." The pain in his voice was palpable. He sat down beside me and took my hand. "However, you will learn to defend yourself more effectively if you think your life depends on it. My advice: Trust no one."

  I looked into his face, his lips drawn into tight lines of both pain and resolve. Yes, he was capable of hurting me.

  * * * * *

  "Drink this." Nicholas lifted the goblet of silvery potion to my lips. "Practice tonight will go better if we are both less tense."

  I cupped the goblet with both hands and drank half. He downed the remainder in one gulp, grimacing at the bitterness.

  Nicholas locked the door and turned off the lights. I pulled myself up the steep stairs on leaden legs, feeling as though invisible hands held me back. When we nodded goodnight at my bedroom door, I noticed his pupils had dilated to dark pools.

  I removed my clothes and dropped my nightgown over my head, collapsing into bed without turning on the light.

  I awoke with a start, my head fuzzy with sleep and narcotic. In a half-stupor I turned my head to look at the glowing clock face, 3:15 a.m. My head dropped back onto the pillow. My eyeballs ached as I swiveled them slowly around the room. Faint phosphorescence drifted into the doorway, trailing a silvery cord. It stopped and hovered near the ceiling over the bed. I closed my eyes to slits and concentrated on keeping my breathing deep and slow, feigning sleep.

  Apparently satisfied it was unobserved, the figure floated to the pile of clothes I'd discarded in a careless heap on the floor. Transparent fingers searched through every pocket before rifling through my backpack on the chair. Nicholas carefully zipped the pack closed. His glowing body drifted back into the hall, leaving my room in darkness. I waited for him to return until my eyes grew too heavy to hold open, and sleep stole my consciousness again.

  * * * * *

  A wave of nausea woke me. I gagged and opened my eyes, lying perfectly still as a tremor of pressure in my head caused my stomach to roll. The room was empty this time, yet he was sending me thoughts.

  "Who is it, Samantha?"

  "Huh?" The question made no sense to my throbbing brain.

  "Who are you working with? Who is the leader?"

  "I don't understand."

  "What do they want from you?"

  The sensation of Nicholas's presence became stronger. I felt a pressure on my lips. Startled, I jerked my head away, causing my stomach to rebel and clench again.

  "Kiss me."

  "Where are you?" I opened my eyes in the darkness but saw no body, transparent or otherwise. No white cord. No Nicholas.

  The caressing voice in my head continued.

  I lay in the dark and listened to his voice, surprised by the strength of the erotic response melting my body. He told you he might try to charm his way in my rational brain reminded me. Yes, but…. I tried to keep my mind blank, white, and empty as I'd practiced.

  "Kiss me."

  "Won't."

  "You want to."

  "No."

  "Oh Samantha, your skin is so soft. I'll just run my hand"

  "No!"

  "You want me."

  I closed my eyes and surrendered to the liquid warmth of his fingers on my bare belly, tracing light circles before continuing downward to slip under the band of my panties. I shivered beneath his touch. "Yes, I want you."

  The coaxing, sexy voice in my head changed tone abruptly. Now it was detached and almost clinical. "How very naïve and unguarded of you, Samantha. Trust no one, remember? Do you think he won't kiss you, touch you, to get what he wants from you? Or has he already loved you, broken down your defenses and your heart, pulled out whatever he pleased from that pretty head of yours?"

  He was right of course. But the mocking tone made my vision red. Get out, I thought. Leave me alone.

  "Better. If you need to use anger as a crutch, then use it. But stay in control."

  "I'll give you an angry crutch. Get the fuck out of my head!" I tried to give the presence in my head a push, but it held on.

  "Come to me, Samantha. Ignore him, come to me. Give me what I need. Now. Give me the key NOW."

  The pressure in my head increased until I thought it would explode. Jumbled images blasted through my mind: My moonstone locket, Nuin's lips brushing my cheek, the black leather grimoire and its twig-like lettering, Nicholas's surprised face. In none of his precautions had Nicholas warned about the pain. The pressure sent a searing red explosion through my left eye socket.

  I screamed and clamped my head between my hands, thrashing in the bed sheets. "Get out! Get out! You're hurting me!"

  No answer. I felt the presence of intense anger, and shards of stabbing pain that hadn't been there when Nicholas was seducing me earlier.

  I squeezed my eyes tight and forced the screams back down into my chest, biting down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. Don't give in to fear. Concentrate. Get past the pain. I moaned the last like a mantra over and over. This isn't physical. Separate the pain from your mind. Compartmentalize it, and you can overcome it. I made my mind blank, white and empty. Void of all feeling. Void of all fear. Void of all emotion.

  Then I visualized a heavy door, like a steel bank vault. I stepped behind it and shoved it hard. Ran behind it, still pushing.

  SLAM!

  The pressure eased and the pain was gone as quickly as it had begun. The silence was exquisite. I took a shuddering breath and let my cramped muscles release.

  Nicholas opened my door but didn't come any closer. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. "I heard you screaming. What did you do, finish without me?"

  I sat up and still couldn't stop shaking; my muscles had been clenched for so long.

  He stepped closer and tried again. "Tonight has been entertaining. Confusing as all hell, but entertaining."

 
; Hurling the tangled sheets to the floor, I stomped over to stand nose to nose with him. "You waited until I fell asleep. Not fair."

  "I'm trying to teach you to defend yourself, darling girl. The best time for psychic attack is during sleep when your guard is down—as I have just proven." His eyes locked on mine, and I saw desire just below their obsidian surface. "Did you like it?"

  I raised my fist to swing at him but he caught my wrist.

  "Control yourself or you will regret it."

  "Don't flatter yourself. You hurt me!" I replied furiously.

  "Hurt you?" His eyes wandered to my bare shoulder, then traced a deliberate line down to the top of my thin nightgown and across my chest. "You have an interesting way to express pain."

  "Fuck you." I spit the words at him. I hadn't said the phrase to anyone before, even to my ex at our lowest moment.

  "It would probably improve your mood." One corner of his mouth quirked.

  Red fury flooded my vision. "Any more words of wisdom?"

  "No." He leaned against the doorframe and pulled out a cigarette. Stuck a match, but blew it out without using it. "Not a syllable."

  I felt like that wooden match scraped roughly across a match-book of repressed emotions, but extinguished before the feelings could ignite. My anger sputtered and died.

  He finally raised his eyes back to my face. "As delightful as our brief dalliance was, perhaps I was unclear on the exercise? You were supposed to resist." He waggled a finger at me, dangling a piece of lacy white cloth from its tip. "Well, look here. I brought something back."

  I was acutely aware then of new bareness under my thin nightgown. I crossed my arms across my chest. "You're right. I had a moment of weakness, entirely unpleasant, thanks to you."