"Just know this, Justine. I love you. More than I have ever loved anybody, any woman. I'm afraid of it, too, but it feels so right that I can't deny it." Words that should have thrilled her, now only angered her. She was angry at herself for not being able to reciprocate with three seemingly simple words.
Sensing a need to break the somber mood, Patrick grabbed her arm playfully, knowing
instinctively that it was her left arm.
"So this little arm here, beat up a man without even touching him." He chuckled warmly, "I'm impressed."
Her large green eyes stared up at him.
"You believe me? You believe I did that?"
"Justine, I was born in and around magick, I've seen many things in my life that most people would consider abnormal or untrue. You simply cast at him in self defense, with all of your energy and power, because you knew somewhere in your gut that his intentions were not good."
They both stared at her thin arm which was still held in his hand.
"Hmm..Maybe you are a Witch." When his laugh didn't quite reach his eyes, it gave Justine reason to pause.
"Hey! What would you have said to Liz?" He asked her. The question surprised her and she had to contemplate it before answering.
"I don't know really. I was just so pissed off, it's probably better that she was too 'occupied' to open the door."
"Well, I would have hated to miss a good cat fight." His welcome laugh broke through their barrier of pain and anger. When she grabbed him and pushed him down on the bed roughly; he ignored the pain in his head and decided it was worth the sacrifice.
"Yes, this is much better," he said as she aggressively stole his lips in a possessive kiss. Chapter Fourteen
The luncheon was much more casual than the banquet had been, and Justine felt relaxed. Again, the conference room was crowded with all of the different Parapsychology teams, but this time other guests included writers, reporters, a few movie producers, as well as a few renowned spiritualists and teachers of the occult.
Patrick fought himself from casually grabbing Justine's hand in his own, because it was a Spectrum luncheon. The entire Spectrum team knew that he and Justine were an item, but Patrick also knew Conroy well enough and respected his ideas of professional behavior and courtesy.
Justine was surprised to see a very famous author seated in a small corner, obviously interviewing Conroy. What better place to gather good ideas for a spooky story, than from an experienced man whose tales of terror were true, Justine thought to herself. Conroy, for once, appeared relaxed and very friendly as he talked enthusiastically to the author.
Rich and Brian stood near the banquet table talking with Claudia while munching on delicious looking crab and cheese stuffed hors' devors. Everyone seemed in high spirits as Justine and Patrick joined them.
Justine sent Claudia a curious look of
questioning. Someone was missing from the group. Gracefully, Claudia swept closer to Justine and gave her a hug while whispering in her ear, "She hasn't come down yet."
Justine didn't know whether to be thrilled or worried. She hated the fact that she even cared about Liz, and admonished herself for her own cruel thoughts. Conroy approached the team, clasping his hands together while greeting everyone.
"Where is Liz?"
His eyes quickly glanced around at each face before finally landing on Claudia. Her smile brightened at his attention, rewarding him with her most beautiful, gracious smile. With her newly gained knowledge, Justine looked at Conroy to see if the attraction was at all mutual. It surprised her to see his cheeks redden just slightly as his lips arched up in a warm, soft smile. Seeing it now, she wondered how she could have possibly missed it before.
"Liz hasn't arrived yet, but I'm sure she will shortly," Claudia's voice was smooth as glass when her eyes gave Justine a silent plea to not say anything.
Conroy glanced down at his watch.
"Yes, well, I hope she arrives soon."
When it was time for everyone to be seated,
Conroy looked one last time towards the entrance to the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Liz rushing in.
The luncheon was another glorious meal that left Justine wondering about the safety of her thin waist line. She sat in a close-knit circle with the rest of team, the conversation staying light and agreeable. Justine flushed deeply when she noticed Brian giving her lazy, lingering stares from across the table. It was odd, because he'd never seemed to pay her much attention before. Justine glanced at Patrick, and instantly knew that he had also noticed the interested stares. He smiled as charmingly as earthly possible and casually slid his arm over Justine's shoulders, but quickly removed it when he noticed the stern look from Conroy.
After lunch was cleared away it was time to mingle for at least a half an hour as requested by Conroy quietly. Justine was all smiles, finally feeling relaxed. She had not spotted her green-eyed assailant anywhere and felt comfortable mingling with the curious faces surrounding her. Liz never made an appearance.
Justine was angry at herself for being concerned, but with each passing moment she would have been blind to not notice the carefully covered up concern on the faces of Conroy and Claudia.
Thirty minutes passed quickly, when finally, she and Patrick were free to spend some quiet,
uncomplicated time together. They walked slowly along the beach, staring out at the endless sea, as they walked, before settling in to a quiet meal for two at Virginia Beaches’ famous, Rudee’s on the Inlet, where they consumed, between the two of them, three pounds of steamed peel and eat shrimp that was nothing short of superb.
Patrick's voice broke the comfortable silence as they were finishing up the last of their wine and waiting for the check.
"Liz and I," he paused as if unsure of what to say next. Justine simply stared back at him, patiently giving him the time and room to say what he needed to say.
"We had a lot of fun together. But, well, she's got some sides to her that I wouldn't necessarily consider nice." Without speaking a word, Justine took a sip of her wine and hoped it would make it down okay over the lump that had formed in her throat.
"I ended things with her about two months before you came to Spectrum. I'll be honest with you, it was not a mutual break up though. Liz kept calling me, confronting me at Spectrum when no one else was around, she was very insistent about continuing with the relationship. I see now that I was too nice to her, I should have been firmer. But honestly, Justine, we only went out for about a month, and then things just got weird. I'm sorry, I should have told you before."
"Did you sleep with her?"
Her words put Patrick at a stand still.
"Yes, I did, several times actually." He wanted to
add that it had truly all been a physical relationship. He looked into her eyes to see how she might react and decided against it, not wanting her to think he was a pig. Justine reached over and placed her hand on top of his.
"Thank you for being honest." Patrick felt a swift rush of relief as the warmth pumped through his body. He didn't know if he could tolerate another overly jealous woman. He had a past, one that he wasn’t entirely proud of, but his past was just that--in the past.
Changing the subject completely, Justine said, "Tomorrow, I want to go to this house I remember from my childhood. It's the house of Grace
Sherwood, better known as the Witch of Pungo. Would you go with me there?"
Anything that let him off the hook sent his dimples lighting up his face, and Justine had all of Patrick's attention.
"And why do you want to go there?" he asked. "Well, like I said it, I saw it once as I child. I have an Aunt Dawn who lives here in Virginia Beach. My dad’s family is originally from Virginia. Anyway,
against my father's wishes, she took me and my cousin there. The house was old and it wasn't anything splendid but it had a feel to it that was, well, in no better words, powerful. I want to see it again and see if I can still feel that."
"Or maybe more," he s
aid reading her thoughts. "Well, yeah, that too."
"Of course we can go, I'd enjoy that. I did want
to ask you something important though, and if you don't want to, I understand." His eyes penetrated her mind and heart.
"What?"
"Well, I was wondering if maybe we could just share a rental car and a hotel room?"
"Yes, of course, Patrick."
Her warm voice reassured him. At that moment Justine knew without a doubt that she was in love, head over heels, and intoxicated with it.
Once they had paid their check, the couple walked out to the shore line again, the waning moon proudly popping out her head as the two of them held each other, listening to the rushing surf, to the sound of their beating hearts.
Feeling crazy with love, Justine slipped off her shoes and ran towards the water, her legs growing wetter with each step she took. Patrick quickly followed suit and laughed with her as they ran along the shore line, their feet and legs splashing up the cold Atlantic water as their laughter bubbled out like free spirited children. When he finally caught up to her, Patrick swooped Justine up into his arms and kissed her deeply. She clung to him, loving his solidness, the feelings of stability, courage and confidence that he managed to make her feel.
With eyes shining as brightly as the stars that looked down upon them, Justine smiled warmly.
"I love you, Patrick." His heart seemed to bloom and blossom with pleasure, so much so that he had to contain himself from yelping out with happiness.
"I love you, too, Justine, so much." They sat on the beach hand in hand for hours looking out at sea while sharing their thoughts, dreams and ideas.
Justine had been in relationships before, but she had never felt the depth of the love and commitment that she had for Patrick. She'd finally convinced herself not to be afraid of the love she felt for him, and to just enjoy it as it was meant to be.
Unknowingly, the two of them were being watched from up on the boardwalk as a pair of angry eyes observed their every move. The face that belonged to the eyes snarled and nearly hissed as it watched them kiss, sharing a personal moment that was meant for only the two of them.
"It's not over yet. Just wait," the voice whispered quietly, as the eyes growing angrier by the moment continued to watch the couple.
"I'll have what is meant to be mine. No matter what I have to do."
Chapter Fifteen
An 11:00 p.m. message from Conroy had notified Justine that Liz had checked out of the hotel late the previous evening. If she had any idea of Liz' where abouts, Conroy asked to be contacted immediately and to pass the message on to Patrick who, at the moment, was snuggled up asleep in Justine's arms. If she knew where he was, she thought, smiling.
The next morning, Patrick and Justine set out in high spirits. They had decided to remain in the Virginia Beach area, but had checked into a different but superb hotel (since Spectrum was paying for it), and they would not be disturbed. Before a quick breakfast, they turned in Patrick's rental car because there was no need for two vehicles.
Justine sat behind the wheel, trying to find Cheswick Lane from memory and having a hard time doing it. She knew that the house was somewhere off of Witchduck Road and Pleasure House Road. While she was driving around in circles, she gave Patrick a short history on Grace Sherwood, the “Witch of Pungo”.
Grace, her husband James, and their three sons had lived during the late 1600's and early 1700's in what had then been called Pungo in Princess Anne County, Virginia-- now the city of Virginia Beach. Grace Sherwood brought the questioning eyes of the good town’s folk by her unwillingness to conform to “normal” standards. She wore pants and had shortly cropped hair, which at that time for a woman was unheard of. She was also very tall which was threatening to many women and some of the men. With her unusual ways and quick tendency to speak her mind, it was not surprising that soon Grace was suspected of Witchcraft.
After her trial, the jury searched her body for any sign of the devil’s mark, but they were unable to find anything suspicious. However, they could not leave it alone and Grace, tiring of the charade, consented to a ducking. A ducking is when the person accused of Witchcraft is tied up in a peculiar fashion. The thumb of their right hand is tied to the big toe of their left foot and vice versa, and the alleged Witch is tossed into the water. If she drowns she is found not guilty, but if she lives she is convicted as a Witch.
In Grace's case, on July 10, 1706 she was thrown into the Lynnhaven River located off Witchduck Road, near her home. The day had been a fanfare of shouting people and onlookers. Grace had not drowned like expected; she had even managed to untie herself, therefore marking herself as an authentic Witch. She subsequently spent eight years in jail, during which time her husband, James, passed away. When she was finally released from prison, Grace went on to live until she was 80 years old, in which was very rare for that time.
"I was 16 the last time I saw this house," Justine said, finally pulling up into the pebbled driveway in front of what is now known as the Ferry Plantation House. It had been used as a major ferry port long after Grace Sherwood had been deceased.
"The last time I was here, the Historical Foundation did not use the house as they do now. The front door was thrown wide open and it shouldn't have been. I wanted to go inside. It seemed as if the house or Grace herself was calling to me. But my cousin, Krissy, freaked! She begged me not to go in. I've always regretted that I didn't. I know it sounds nuts, but it seemed like Grace was trying to tell me something."
Patrick stared at the awestruck look on Justine's face and wondered how much she really knew about herself. The house did have a lot of energy floating around, there was no doubt about it.
Justine slowly unlocked her seatbelt and eased out of the car. Patrick joined her and they stared at the house. It was a three-story brick Federal style home with beautiful white columns lining the abundant front porch. The large bay windows seemed to stare back at them in defiance.
"I want to go in." Justine murmured simply and started to walk towards the front door as if in a trance.
Patrick grabbed her arm, pulling her back.
"Wait a minute, Justine! You could get arrested. You can't just walk in!" She turned to look at him, barely seeing him there.
"She's calling me, I have to go." Patrick kept her arm clenched tight in his hand. She tried obliviously to shake him off.
"Patrick, I gave this chance up years ago, I'm not going to do it again. There is something here for me. I feel it, I know it." Patrick couldn't deny that he could hear a voice or more accurately feel a voice, whether it be the wind in the trees or not, it was very distinctively calling to Justine. He felt undecided, even he wanted to go in the house, but there was the very real possibility that both of them could end up getting arrested for trespassing.
Justine turned to Patrick and clasped his hands in hers. Her eyes were the most serious he had ever seen them.
"Patrick, I have to do this. You don't have to come in with me, you can wait in the car."
"There is no way I'm letting you go in there alone, Justine." She laughed finally, snapping the solemn mood.
"Then shut up and come with me!" Justine started to walk again, willing Patrick to either stay outside or go in with her. She didn't care, either way she was going in. The thick pine floor boards on the porch groaned under her weight but didn't slow down her forward motion in the slightest. She stopped in front of the heavy wooden front door, the voice becoming louder, almost demanding her to enter. The ancient knob turned easily under her hand. The house was surprisingly in very good condition, probably because it was being used as a museum now.
Barely aware that Patrick was close behind her, Justine’s eyes quickly traveled down the large central hallway which then flanked off into various different rooms. She looked through the house curiously, moving through each room with a reverent
admiration. The house wasn't elegant or even attractive in the classical sense. It was built to be stu
rdy and practical.
Justine entered the last door on the left, the only room she hadn't yet explored on the ground floor. This room was large and looked like it must have been used as a study. There was a beautiful, large Persian rug covering up the sturdy hardwood floors. Justine stood in the center of the room while Patrick watched her and looked around the room himself.
As if in a trance, with her eyes closed, Justine turned in a circle three times before sitting down on the luxurious carpet. The prevalent energy in the room picked up like a strong gust of stray wind and a bright orb of golden light appeared seeming to bounce off the ceiling. Justine stared at the orb mystified by its sudden appearance, the smile on her face breathtaking with the knowledge that the orb was an answer to her inexplicable fascination of Grace Sherwood.
"Justine, finally you come." The voice was strongly but feminine. Patrick jumped at the sound of the voice and looked around the room as if trying to locate the speaker of it. He knew that it was an unworldly voice but questioned its intentions concerning Justine.
The orb unexpectedly flew down from the ceiling and settled like a halo around Justine's head. She reached up to touch the light which then radiated down her arms and into her body surrounding her in a golden aura.
"My daughter of daughters, my true descendent. You've finally come home to me." Patrick quickly walked over to the light which just as quickly ensnared and surrounded him.
"This is your man, he will guide you and protect you. Love one another. Do not fear me." Feeling his own knees go weak with the intensity of the power, Patrick seated himself next to Justine.
"Justine, you are my last successor. You will have a girl child to carry on our tradition. Search your dreams, pay attention to them. The instincts of our gift will come to you in many different ways, keep your mind open to all of them. Go now, child, you've done what needed to be done. Go with my blessings, both of you."
The sudden absence of the light disappointed Justine and Patrick both. Slowly they stood, shaking off the disorientation. Justine gazed around the room once again before quietly and respectfully leaving the house.
Journey of Souls (The Mortality Series) Page 12
