by Nancy Holder
Prisoners.
Nicole smelled gingerbread and pine as she watched the snow tumble down into haystack-size drifts in the yard. The topiary animals were frosted white. Anger and fear churned in her stomach as the clock ticked the countdown to Yule. She wanted to be anywhere but there, with the zombielike Kari, Osiris, and her lost, beloved Hecate.
With her father in the lead, they had fled, but as they drove past the gate that marked the property, Owen became sick and pale. She, Amanda, and Tommy murmured incantations over him, but nothing worked. Richard was about to drive him to the hospital when Kari said dully, “Turn back. Baby…dies.”
Back they went, like prisoners, and as soon as they were past the gate again, Owen regained his pink glow and waved his chubby little hands in the air. They were stuck.
So they decided to concentrate on making sure they were safe inside the house. No more surprise visits from yowies. The sisters strengthened all their wards, summoned Lawyer Derek. He arrived with a Yule gift—a plum pudding—and they made him inspect their magical work and check the warlock magic that had been installed as well.
“I’m surprised something got through all the wards,” he told them.
“Who do I sue?” Nicole asked hotly.
He also showed them how to put magic spells on their ammunition, so that when shots were fired, a spell as well as a bullet would hit their target. Actually, he used the word “enemy” in place of “target.”
He said aloud what Nicole silently feared. Dragon and yowie aside, they were safer in House Moore than anywhere else in England—or the world, for that matter. The Cahors witches had a lot of enemies.
“So you don’t think it was the Deveraux,” he said, dressed for the season in a black suit, holly and mistletoe pinned to his lapel. Red and green were the Deveraux colors, from perhaps milder days when they’d honored the Horned God in his incarnation as the Green Man. Cahors colors were black and silver, and Nicole wore silver whenever she could. Real silver was said to ward off werewolves and other creatures of evil; she hoped it kept her and her loved ones safe.
“No,” Nicole said, as she and the others drank spiced wine with him. They were seated in the castle section, watching a log blaze in the hearth. She and Amanda had agreed not to tell Derek about Merlin’s Book or the prophecy. Why should they? He was affiliated with the Supreme Coven.
He stretched out his long legs. “And you haven’t heard from them.”
His voice was casual, but Nicole heard the tension in it, the eagerness. She wondered if there was a bounty on the heads of the two brothers.
Stay away, Eli, she thought, rocking Owen in her arms. I think these people want to hurt you.
But part of her wanted Eli to show up at her door. They’d been a wild pair, the extreme couple people would talk about all over Seattle—Eli Deveraux and his wild-child underage girlfriend, Niki Anderson. Drinking too much, driving too fast, making out while somewhere in their house Eli’s father, Michael Deveraux, did bad things. Unimaginable things. And boinked Nicole and Amanda’s mother….
Michael and Mom are both dead now, she thought. She wished with all her heart that her mother could see Richard now—their own Special Forces guy, their warrior, their protector. He had spent years trying to forget that he’d been a fighting man; Nicole was glad down to her soul that he hadn’t succeeded.
“No,” she said. “Nothing.”
After Derek left, Richard, Amanda, and Tommy started decorating the Christmas tree. It was a weak attempt at normalcy, but there could be power in the act. Christmas trees were part of the Wicca celebration of Yule, as well as traditional Christmas. The first tree Richard had brought into House Moore three days before had been a healthy, living tree, complete with a root ball, and he’d hoped to plant it in the garden after the holiday season was over. But it had shriveled up as soon as he’d brought it inside—the needles had turned brown and fallen off. It had died inside House Moore.
Was it because it was a living thing, and we didn’t invite it? Nicole thought anxiously. They hadn’t formally invited Kari, or either of the cats.
They’re not living things.
She started shaking. The urge to bail was almost overwhelming. When Holly had still led their coven, Nicole had split for Europe, trying to leave it all behind. But Michael Deveraux’s minions had trailed after her, sometimes as crows, other times as menacing shadows that had slid down the walls of buildings as she’d passed them. She still remembered sitting in the chilled dimness of Cologne Cathedral in Cologne, Germany. The bones of the Three Wise Men were buried there, in an incredible golden box studded with stones. Light glinted off the faces of the saints as she sat on the hard pew, inhaling incense and age, trying to pray but dozing off. A priest had confronted her, assuming she was homeless, and telling her she would have to leave. So much for sanctuary in the house of the Lord.
Outside, the shadows had waited for her. Through the stone, stained glass, and raised voices of the choir, she heard hundreds of crows, minions of Michael Deveraux. She felt their evil mushrooming over the cathedral like a poisonous fog. She’d cut herself off from Amanda and Holly to escape their magical heritage, but instead she had made herself vulnerable.
She had left the cathedral heavier with fear than when she had entered it. And the shadows had found her at last on the island of Avalon, where James Moore had kept her prisoner. Then Eli snuck in, and rescued her.
He loves me. He does. It’s more than lust and possessiveness.
Her throat tightened at the confusion she felt. She was in thrall with Philippe, and he was a good man, a better man than Eli ever could be. Unless the bones of the Three Wise Men could perform miracles, as many claimed….
“Nicole, what do you think, more tinsel?” Tommy asked, breaking her from her reverie.
She smiled faintly. He was a good man too. Amanda was lucky to have found her one true love. They were trying to decide how to get married—if they should invite a vicar to House Moore, which might raise questions or go terribly awry (especially if the man met Kari or tried to pet one of the cats), or go into Scarborough to have a civil ceremony. However they did it, she envied them; she certainly didn’t see a traditional white wedding in her future. And her forced marriage ceremony with James had been a nightmare.
“It’s on the side you can’t see,” he said.
As she rose, Owen leaned toward Tommy, cooing. Tommy held out his arms for the baby. It was still very difficult for her to let anyone else take him, but Tommy was Owen’s uncle in all but name. So she gave him her child, kissing Owen’s little head as she did so, and approached the tree.
Brilliant silver ornaments glittered and gleamed. Dressed in jeans and a dark blue cabled sweater, her father was perched on a ladder, straining to put a silver five-pointed star on top of the tree. Some said the pentagram and the Star of Bethlehem were one and the same—that each Wiccan rite was in truth a salute to the Christian God. There was so much they didn’t know. And Nicole didn’t know whom to ask.
Amanda was looping silver garland over the branches. Kari sat in a chair with a steaming mug of cider on a small octagonal table to her left. Osiris and Hecate lay at Kari’s feet; Hecate looked up as Nicole brushed past, and glided toward her.
“Hi, kitty,” Nicole said warmly, but secretly Hecate frightened her. She wanted to be glad that her cat was back from the dead, but she could hardly stand to touch her.
Her father smiled at her, but she could tell old memories were pressing heavily on him. He came down the ladder as she walked to him, and he put his arms around her. She wanted to sink against him and cry. She wasn’t even nineteen yet, but she was a mother and a widow. She’d thought that at nineteen she’d be in college majoring in drama, or maybe even in L.A. breaking into the business.
Her attention ticked toward Kari, who stood up like a robot. Kari said, “Someone is coming.”
Sure enough, invisible bells clanged, signaling that one of their wards had been set off. Richard let go of Nicole and step
ped in front of her, reaching for a machine gun. Nicole had protested about the spells on their ammunition—what if one of them was accidentally shot? But as she stood behind her father now, she was glad no one had listened to her.
Tommy handed Owen to Amanda and picked up another weapon. Amanda frowned slightly but hung back, sidling over to Nicole.
“We’re two of the most powerful witches in the world,” Amanda drawled, “but our menfolk are protecting us.”
“What if it’s someone…” Nicole swallowed hard as she took Owen from her sister. His little baby head smelled so sweet. His hair was like silk. “What if it’s Owen’s father?” She felt faint.
“Then we’ll know who he is.” Amanda kissed Owen’s head. “We’ll protect you, baby.” She smiled sweetly at Nicole and added, “And you, Niki. We’ll protect you both.”
Nicole felt a rush of shame. Amanda had probably never realized just how much she, Nicole, depended on her. She’d been so caught up in the drama of her own life that she’d needed Amanda to balance her out. Back in high school she’d thought Amanda was boring and uncool, and she had excluded her whenever possible.
“I just had a really bad thought,” Amanda murmured. She nodded in Kari’s direction. “Maybe we should send her out, see if anything happens to her.”
“Oh, my God, that’s…practical,” Nicole replied, bouncing Owen in her arms. “If anything ever happens to me…” She trailed off as Owen made little gurgling sounds and stared at the door. If anything ever happened to her, she’d come back from hell itself to watch over her child. Come back, or live in it. That was, if her child wasn’t there with her. If she hadn’t had to send him there herself. She tried not to glance at the scar he now had behind his left ear, but like a magnet it drew her eyes. There were three signs. He had only two. It was going to be okay.
More wards chimed, signaling an unrecognized presence. Richard handed Amanda a scrying stone. He couldn’t see the image of their visitor in the piece of crystal, but she could.
She gasped. “It’s Anne-Louise Montrachet,” she announced. “With a familiar.”
“Anne-Louise,” Nicole said happily. “I can’t believe it.”
Anne-Louise had been their liaison with the Mother Coven, and a dear and loyal friend to them. She had been wounded defending them from Michael Deveraux, and they hadn’t seen her since.
Amanda hurried toward the door, but Richard and Tommy blocked her way. “It might be a trap,” Richard said, as he cautiously opened it.
Amanda peered around him. It was Anne-Louise at the gate. She was dressed for winter travel in a long white coat and matching white boots, and in her arms she held a slinky gray feline with large golden-yellow eyes.
“Oh, thank Goddess,” Anne-Louise called.
“Wait!” Amanda warned her. “Nicole has to invite you in.”
“I invite you, Anne-Louise,” Nicole cried. “And your familiar, too.”
“His name is Whisper,” Anne-Louise said as she ran up to the house and practically leaped over the threshold. Her eyes misted at the sight of the twin sisters and their loved ones, and her face softened when Owen cooed at her.
“Precious child,” she said, raising her hand in benediction over him. She paused, as if she wanted to say more—maybe to ask who his father was—but let it go as she glanced around the castle in amazement, and then turned to a waiting car. “I have a small suitcase.”
“I’ll get that,” Richard said, trotting out into the cold as he shut the heavy door behind himself.
“Why are you here?” Amanda asked. “Not that we’re not happy to see you, but…”
“I couldn’t risk a phone call or an e-mail,” Anne-Louise replied, lowering her voice. She hesitated. “Is this place well warded?”
“Yes,” Nicole assured her. “With our magic, and warlock magic too.”
Anne-Louise paled slightly. Then she nodded. “As a Moore and a Cathers witch, you’re afforded excellent protection. But I have terrible news. I performed a series of rituals in search of other members of your family, and I had a vision. Alex Carruthers isn’t related to you. He’s an imposter. And he has gone into the past, and changed it.”
Amanda glanced at Nicole, then back at Anne-Louise. Nicole was silently shaking her head, as if she didn’t want to hear any more.
Anne-Louise came forward and took Amanda’s hand, and then Nicole’s, whose hand was icy. Nicole swallowed hard. Cradled against Anne-Louise’s chest, Whisper stared at the two Cathers witches.
Gone into the past?” Amanda asked.
“Who is he?” Nicole demanded.
“I don’t know, but I have my suspicions. Whisper and I have sensed great evil, terrible power…and I think Alex Carruthers may actually be the Duc Laurent de Deveraux, come back from the dead.”
Nicole felt the floor give way. Anne-Louise’s hand around hers was firm, strong. Warmth radiated from it to Nicole, and she stood firm.
“Back from the dead. Like her?” Amanda asked, glancing at Kari.
“Oh, child,” Anne-Louise said to Kari as Kari turned toward her. “Powerful magics are at work. I think he plans to reunite the Deveraux family and wage war.”
“On the Mother Coven?” Amanda asked. Nicole was chilled to the bone.
Anne-Louise shook her head. “On the world.” She gazed around at the castle walls, then at the girls. “On anyone who stands against him. He wants to marshal all the forces of darkness and pit them against us, and humanity.”
“Holly,” Nicole breathed.
“We’ve been searching for her,” Anne-Louise said. So far, we’ve been unsuccessful.”
“Oh, God,” Nicole breathed. “What if he’s killed her?”
“I don’t think he has. Yet,” she said. “Michael Deveraux drove your cousin out of her mind. She became possessed by demons, and he used her against you, until the exorcism. But a warlock as powerful as Laurent de Deveraux would be fully capable of doing it again—on a much more intense level.”
“Is that what you meant about changing the past?” Amanda asked.
“I’m not sure what I mean,” Anne-Louise said. “But things are not as they should be. Whisper appeared to tell me. We’re living in a world that has been altered.”
They looked at one another in horror. Just then Richard came back into the castle carrying a small white suitcase.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
“Oh, Daddy,” Nicole cried, “it’s…it’s wrong. Something’s wrong.” Tears slid down Nicole’s face. It never ended. They would never be safe. What kind of world had she brought her baby into?
“What do you mean?” Richard asked. He turned to Anne-Louise. “What’s going on?”
“As you know, Philippe left you because he received a psychic plea for help from Pablo. Our paths crossed in Mumbai.”
“Philippe. Is he coming too?” Nicole asked, wishing with all her being.
“India?” Richard asked. “What on earth—”
“A swami warned me that some kind of balance had been damaged. He mentioned the Temple of the Sun. I thought he was speaking of Machu Picchu, in Peru. But we pointed out that it’s called the Pyramid of the Sun. The Temple of the Sun is a term used in Zoroastrian magics.”
“Zoro-what?” Tommy asked, putting his arms around Amanda. She laid her head on his shoulder. As if sensing that Nicole needed comfort too, Richard put his arm around her shoulder.
“Zoroastrianism is a faith, a magical system,” Anne-Louise explained. “Many believe that the Three Wise Men in the biblical story of the Christ’s nativity were Zoroastrian sorcerers. Wizards. And they were astrologers, which is why they were aware of the star in the east.”
“Cologne,” Nicole said softly. As the others looked at her, she said, “Their bones are kept in a big gold box in the cathedral there.”
“All three of them? It must be a big box,” Tommy said.
“We of the Mother Coven believe there may have been more than three sorcerers who went to visit
the Christ,” Anne-Louise continued. She looked tired and frightened. “It is traditional to assume there were only three, as there were only three gifts mentioned in the story—gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But there could easily have been more, and more gifts as well. Magical offerings are occult. Hidden.”
Tommy grimaced. “I wonder where Duc Laurent’s bones are hidden. Maybe if we destroy them, or put a hex on them…”
Then Whisper spoke. “It’s too late. The past has been altered, and unless he is stopped, he will win.”
Everyone stared at the cat. Nicole said, “Who are you?”
“I am a messenger of the Goddess,” Whisper announced. “I, too, seek Holly Cathers, who sacrificed the familiar Hecate.” Whisper looked at Nicole’s zombie-cat. “Alas, handmaiden.”
Hecate growled low in her throat, and silence fell over the room.
“You won’t hurt Holly,” Amanda said to Whisper. “We won’t let you.”
“She and I will deal with each other on another occasion,” Whisper replied. “I seek her power. Time has been altered. She must help me set it to rights.”
“She’s with Duc Laurent. Two others are with her too,” Amanda continued, quaking.
“The Christian witches Pablo and Armand,” Whisper said, dipping her head. “I know.”
“We have to save them,” Amanda insisted.
“Or stop them,” Richard added, “if he’s bewitched them.”
Everyone fell silent. It was too terrible to contemplate.
“What about Jer and Eli?” Tommy asked. “Have you seen them?”
“Not Jer, but I have seen Eli.”
At that Anne-Louise stopped talking and averted her eyes.
There’s more bad news, Nicole thought, feeling her stomach clench.
“Have a seat and I’ll get you some hot tea,” Richard said in the silence.
Anne-Louise took off her coat and chose a seat. The others sat down too and there was a stillness, a heaviness in the air that had nothing to do with what Anne-Louise had said and everything to do with what she hadn’t said.
Richard handed her some tea, and she sipped it for a moment before putting it aside and clearing her throat. “In Mumbai, Philippe and I ran into Eli. There was a fight. Both of them fell into a lake…and they didn’t come out.”
