by Chelsea Luna
“Lex!” Peter fought the tremors and rolled onto his side. His body shook as Liam’s electricity rode through his nervous system.
“You won’t do it.” Liam’s green eyes flashed with excitement. “You’re bluffing.”
“Proof that you don’t know me at all.” I jabbed the point into my throat and sliced into the skin. A tearing pain shot through my neck. Hot liquid seeped down my throat and onto my jacket.
Liam took a step forward. “Stop.”
“Don’t!” Ethan trembled on the grass like he was having a seizure.
“Leave them alone.” I pressed harder, ignoring the pain.
Liam’s nostrils flared and all three bodies went limp. A collective sigh swarmed over the boys. Ethan rolled onto his back and sucked in gulps of air. Peter pushed himself to a sitting position and James was on his knees.
Liam elaborately bowed. “Played masterfully, just like a Ross. I am impressed.”
“Stay away from us. If you come near any of them again, I’ll slit my throat. I swear to it.”
“Tsk, tsk.” Liam wagged his finger at me. “Such anger.”
“I’m dead serious. My life means absolutely nothing to me. I’ll be dead in five days anyways, so don’t think that I won’t end it early.”
“Then perhaps you need to stay safe with me.”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Are you outright defying me? Again?”
“If you take me, I’ll shoot a fireball into my chest.”
“Then maybe we’ll steal a play from your Aunt Vanessa’s book and I’ll put you into a coma until sunset on Halloween. You know, simply as a precaution to ensure you don’t harm yourself.”
“You need me alive to perform the sacrifice ceremony. I’ll kill myself in the seconds after you wake me from the coma.”
Liam smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
I swallowed. The metallic smell of my blood made me dizzy, but I had to appear strong. I had the upper hand. For the moment.
“Leave my friends and family alone,” I said slowly. “Leave me alone for the next five days. You have my word that I’ll show up on Halloween. Unharmed. Tell me where to be and I’ll be there. I swear. As long as you follow my rules.”
“Your rules?”
“My rules.” The knife was still at my throat, but I’d lessened the pressure. Hot sticky blood seeped down my chest
“Fine,” Liam said. “I’ll let you believe that you have an ounce of control, but only because I’m fond of you. Let this be a warning, don’t try anything. Don’t even think about it. You cannot win. There is no hope for you. Your life will end at sundown on Sunday. Whatever you and your friends are up to now, if you value their lives, then I suggest you drop whatever plan you’re concocting. If anyone shows up to the sacrifice besides you, I’ll tear their hearts from their chests just like I did your Aunt Vanessa’s.”
“I’ll see you on Sunday,” I said.
“I’ll have eyes on you from here on out.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The ruby ring had to stay hidden from sight until Sunday night. We couldn’t let a wandering spirit report back to him about the gem, even if Liam didn’t know that the diamond was inside the ruby. We had to take every possible precaution.
“Meet me in the Hallows at four o’clock on Sunday,” Liam said. “At the old cedar tree on the north end of the golf course.”
The old cedar tree. Of course. Dozens of witches had died there over the years. Liam needed a spot with supernatural energy. I opened my mouth, but Liam held up his finger.
“If you are late or if you run, then I will hunt you down. I will kill Peter, James, Ethan, Emma and anyone that has had any contact with you in your miserable life. Then, I will keep you with me for the next year - torturing you each day - until next Halloween, where I’ll sacrifice you. You cannot win. I have nothing but time on my hands. Do you understand me?”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
“Don’t be late. And don’t bring a soul.” Liam turned and walked toward the forest.
I lowered the knife from my throat and ran my thumb over the ruby hidden inside my bag. I wasn’t going to run. I would be at the old cedar tree in the Hallows on Sunday. On time.
But, I was definitely bringing a soul with me.
CHAPTER 12
A crisp knock sounded at my bedroom door. I folded the corner of Paradise Lost and closed the novel.
Peter walked in and held up a small plastic bag. “I went to the pharmacy. You’d think a witch hunter’s house would have a better first aid kit than the sorry excuse for one I found in the bathroom downstairs.”
My new bedroom was one of the Van Curen guest rooms. The large room had dark cherry wood floors and deep forest green walls. The drapes were thick burgundy and they matched the comforter. There was also a writing desk, an armoire and a queen size bed. Not to mention my own personal bathroom. Pretty nice guestroom digs. Ethan and Emma were in the bedroom next to mine and James was down the hall.
“Is it strange that my family and I are staying in the Van Curen house?”
“No stranger than everything else. I didn’t really think about it, but I guess I am behind enemy lines. Lift your chin.” Peter squirted ointment on the bandage.
“You can’t still think of James as an enemy, do you?”
“Nah. He’s okay.” He pressed the bandage against my throat.
Peter wadded the trash into a ball and shot it into the garbage can. “That was a brave move back at the farmhouse. Tell me you were bluffing.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Lex.”
“I wasn’t.” I tilted my head. The bandage was tight on my throat. The puncture wound was sore, but it wasn’t that painful. I’d had worse. Much worse.
“Lex, you can’t kill yourself.”
“Think about it, Peter.” My eyes went to my purse lying next to me. “If he would have taken it. Then I’m just as good as dead. I bought us time and, hopefully, a little bit of privacy.”
“Do you think Liam’s spirits are watching?” Peter glanced at the ceiling.
“I do. Spirits can’t hear anything unless they possess a body. You and James can’t see red-eyes when they are in people so we have to be careful what we talk about. I’m going to keep it inside that bag, so nobody - from this world or the other one - can see it.”
Peter rubbed his face. “At least you have hope that we can win.”
“Why do you say that?”
He flicked his finger against my paperback copy of Paradise Lost. “If you didn’t think there was a chance we’d win, why would you do homework? Especially reading a poem by John Milton?”
“I like my classical literature class. The theme had me curious.”
“God and the Devil?”
“No, the fall of man.”
“Ah.” Peter flipped through the pages. “Doesn’t this book remind you of -”
“The Archangel Michael casting witches into Hell?”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure its fallen angels in this book.” Peter tossed the novel onto the nightstand. “Gamma decided to add the witch twist, remember?”
“I remember. I wonder….”
“What?”
I didn’t know how to word what I wanted to say. “I mean, say we defeat Liam and I survive -”
“We will and you will.”
“Right, but will I be different once I receive my powers? Will I change? My being or soul or whatever? Will I still be… good? Or is it too much power for one person to have?”
“You’ll be okay,” he said. “Your dad and your Grandma Claudia were fine.”
“But I’m pure blooded. What if I become like Liam?”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t foresee you performing any sacrifices in the near future.”
“I can feel myself, sometimes, getting angry. I feel this rage that I didn’t feel before. I could have easily killed that Pastor.”
“Bu
t you didn’t.”
“I know. I just don’t like the feeling. I’m worried it will get worse, after I turn eighteen.”
He twisted my emerald ring. “You’ll be fine. Everything will work out. You have to stop worrying or you’re going to go prematurely gray.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am. Oh, I have a request.” Peter kissed the tip of my nose.
“I’m all ears.”
“I want to go on a date on Friday night.”
“With who?”
“You, silly.”
“This Friday?” I leaned on my elbow. “Don’t you think we have enough going on this weekend with my sacrifice scheduled for Sunday?”
“No.” Peter mimicked my position. He grabbed a strand of my hair and twisted it around his finger. “I think we’re in pretty good shape for this weekend. We found what we were looking for. There’s nothing left to do, but wait until you destroy Liam. And I want to have a normal date with my girlfriend. Dinner and a movie.”
“Dinner and a movie? That’s extremely normal.”
“That’s what I’m striving for.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
“Perfect.” Peter sat up. “I have to go.”
“Already?”
“I have to pick up Anne Marie from her student council meeting.”
“Is she still grounded?”
“That’s what she gets for sneaking out to see Logan.” Peter winked at me. “Give me a call in the morning, before you go to school.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Or if you feel like skipping tomorrow, then I’m game. Love you.”
Peter shut the door behind him. Paradise Lost was on the bedside table, but I didn’t feel like reading anymore. My purse concealing the ruby was beside me. I reached inside.
As soon as I touched the cool slick surface of the gem, I felt the spirit. Like a hummingbird’s wings fluttering against my skin. A light pulling sensation. I ran my hand over the thick gold chain and back over the stone. I squeezed it in the palm of my hand, careful to leave the ruby hidden in the purse.
I imagined what it would look like to hold the ruby up to the light and inspect the diamond snuggled inside. It would probably distort the room into a blood red reflection.
I nestled deeper in the bed. The soft down pillows made me sleepy. I twirled the ruby around and around in my fingers until I drifted off to sleep.
Lara Ross was a beautiful woman. Long blonde hair fell in waves past her waist. She had a small pink mouth and a tiny, straight nose. Her hazel eyes were almond shaped and tears poured out of them.
She sobbed hysterically while lying spread eagle in a circle of burnt grass inside the famous circular boulders of Stonehenge. Lavenders and reds filled the sky as the sun set in the west. Lara’s hands and feet were secured to stakes that faced north, south, east and west. Her body was positioned like a replica of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man.
Liam paced back and forth. Anxious green cat eyes were glued to the sky. Once the sun almost touched the ground, he retrieved a burlap sack from behind a boulder.
“Son, let me go, please,” Lara pleaded.
Liam lowered to his knees beside her. From the sack, he pulled out a dagger, a dead raven and a vile of blood. He emptied the blood onto his palm and smeared it across his mother’s cheeks and forehead.
She screamed.
He positioned the raven carcass on Lara’s stomach so the bird’s eyes gazed upon his mother’s face.
“What are you doing to me?”
“I will not die like father.”
Lara’s forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean? Son, there is no war. You will not die.”
“I will never die. And you are going to help me.”
Lara stared at the dead raven on her stomach. “Never die? What are you going to do to me?”
“Don’t worry,” Liam said. “I will not consume your soul. There is another in France and we will go there afterward. I’ll keep you with me forever.”
Liam raised the dagger and, with one last check at the setting sun, plunged the five inch blade through the dead raven and into his mother’s stomach. The hilt of the knife crushed the bird’s chest.
“Deviosiolium malefrici souldin anun caxatoe deceasisinum.”
The sky turned from bruised purple to midnight black.
Lara’s body quivered at the impact of the violent stabbing. Her beautiful hazel eyes turned coal black. A dark fog shot out of Lara’s eyes and into the air.
Liam shoved a quarter-sized diamond into the fog. The thick mist whirled into the gemstone like a genie sucked back into his bottle.
Lara’s soul disappeared into the diamond. Her body lay limp. The skin surrounding her eye orbits were burnt to a crisp. Liam placed the diamond in a worn leather bag. He pulled the strings tight and tucked his mother’s soul into his shirt pocket.
The vision of Lara’s final moments faded. My eyelids fluttered, like one about to wake from a deep sleep, but instead, another vision flashed behind my closed eyes. One that I’d seen before.
Venice, Italy.
Liam reached inside his shirt. A brass key dangled from a necklace. He lowered himself to the floor and unlocked a safe beneath the table in the hotel room. His arm extended deep inside the vault to retrieve a worn leather bag tied with strings. Liam patted the sack, satisfied with its contents, and placed the bag in the interior breast pocket of his suit.
Liam boarded an awaiting carriage outside the hotel. The driver held a dirty rag over his nose and mouth. He tipped his hat at Liam. The carriage raced through the narrow streets of Venice. Piles of bodies covered in thin shrouds were stacked high on the curb. Bodies were exposed on the cobblestone streets. Arms, legs and heads grotesquely poked out from beneath the sheets. The contaminated corpses threatened to infect any and all with the Black Death.
The carriage stopped in front of a lighted mansion. Liam raced up the front stairs and searched for the woman with the black satin dress inside the Masquerade Ball. He kissed her cheek and they danced the night away.
After hours of dancing, they boarded the gondola and went to the secret hotel on the other side of town. I watched in fascination - just as I had before - as the woman carefully studied the rise and fall of Liam’s chest. She tip-toed to his pile of clothes on the floor, kneeled down and stole the leather sack.
The woman dressed in the dim hallway and then fled the hotel room. The early morning sun poured over the city. She slowed once she reached the street, but she kept her head lowered. She ran the length of an alley to a small dock.
A man waited for her. He handed her a brown hooded robe and she placed it over her black dress. The gondola sailed across the water. She unclenched the leather sack from her chest. The woman robotically checked over her shoulder, but there was nothing except the murky waters of Venice.
The gondola approached another dock. The woman climbed out of the boat and rushed down a cobblestone alley. The early morning’s sunlight wasn’t able to penetrate the high walls. A pile of plague-ridden bodies were stacked against a store front. The woman, careful not to touch the pile, entered the building.
Shelves of boots, slippers and shoes lined the store. A young man of about fifteen with a head full of black curly hair whittled in the corner. He nodded and the woman went to the back room. From there, she kicked a worn rug out of the way and pulled the handle of a secret hatch door in the floor. She descended the steep stairs and shut the door over her head.
An old man stitched a sole onto a shoe at his work bench. White hair wrapped around the sides of his head, leaving only a shiny bald top. The woman approached him.
She pushed the leather sack across the table. “I have it.”
The old man regarded her for a moment. “Splendid.” His callused fingers opened the sack and revealed a beautiful diamond about the size of a quarter. He walked to a chest in the corner of the room and retrieved a box.
Inside the box was a small cast iron rectangle with hinges and a vial of red
liquid. The old man opened the contraption, revealing a mold of a large gem shaped like a heart. He placed the diamond in the iron cast and shut it tight. A small opening at the top of the mold allowed him to pour the red liquid inside.
The old man held the contraption with tongs over an open flame for several minutes until the iron turned bright red. They waited for the mold to cool before opening it. Inside was a ruby gem with the diamond tucked inside. Only it wasn’t a ruby. It was a fake. A ploy to hide the diamond. To hide Liam’s receptacle.
The old man placed the gem into a delicate gold chain setting. “My Lorenzo will take it to them. You must go now. Run for your life. And may God be with you.”
The scene changed again, this time flashing between two events that must’ve occurred simultaneously.
The woman, wearing the same black gown, frantically ran up the grassy hill as a flash of black light whizzed by her head. An enormous olive tree crashed to the ground in front of her. She hiked up her dress and bolted in the opposite direction.
Liam strolled up the hill. His green eyes gleamed with hatred.
* * *
The young boy with the curly black hair from the tailor shop - Lorenzo - was also running up a grassy hill in the outskirts of Venice. On top of this hill sat a large estate. An enormous castle with spiraled towers sprouted from the stone.
Lorenzo slowed when he reached the entrance. Two armed guards nodded at the young boy and pulled open the iron gates. The boy ran inside with his hand clutched to his satchel.
The floors of the estate were marble and the boy slid across the smooth surface as he ran. Another armed guard stood watch at the end of the hallway. The guard opened the door before Lorenzo reached the threshold.
The boy was expected.
Lorenzo ran into the room and all activity ceased. Five men, dressed in brown velvet robes, were gathered around a wooden table covered with maps. He kneeled in front of the men and held the satchel high above his head. “My Lord.”
