Chapter Ten
Echo licked sauce off her fingers and laughed at the surprise on Keegan and Smith’s faces. “What?” she said, checking to make sure she hadn’t dropped any pizza on herself. As soon as they’d returned to the cottage, she’d changed into the red silk kimono, a last-minute and frivolous purchase by Keegan, she had thought, but now appreciated. The silk caressed her skin like cream and was probably the most comfortable garment she'd ever worn.
They both shook their heads and lowered their eyes like little boys caught in a lie.
Apparently, finger licking was unladylike, and the boys too gentlemanly to say.
“When are we starting the séance?” Smith asked, raising his gaze from the floor.
She could tell from Keegan’s expression he was anxious to get the spiritual meeting underway, as well, but applied restraint – something Smith had never learned. All part of his charm.
“When the time is right,” she said, answering Smith’s question directly to Keegan.
He nodded as though he understood.
“The air needs to lighten, the sun darken, and the birds still,” she said.
This time, both men nodded.
Neither of them understood. She read it in their eyes.
“How do you know those things will happen?” Smith asked after several moments of silence. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but we could be here for days.”
“These changes occur every day at a particular time in the elliptical orbit of the earth around the sun; a breath holding, if you will, of every living and breathing thing, like the natural reaction brought about by fear of a collision with an object or person.”
More head nodding.
At the sound of motorbikes, she looked to the window. Her guests had arrived.
“What the hell?” Keegan stared at Smith.
“Don’t look at me, man. I didn’t call them.”
“I did,” Echo said as she strolled across the kitchen floor.” Not in the typical way, but telepathically, but that wasn’t something she would tell the men.
When she approached the garden doors, she looked over her shoulder to more knowing nods from Keegan and Smith. For the first time, their taking-things-in-stride attitude worried her. Something was going on with these two. What, she didn’t know. But she would find out, even if that meant getting physical. She was certain Keegan was ticklish.
She opened the door to Duplex and Forty-Ouncer. “How nice of you to drop by,” she said, smiling.
Forty-Ouncer whipped off his battered baseball cap and crushed it against his heart. “Ma’am, are you sure we’re not intruding?”
“Positive.”
Duplex shuffled his feet. “It’s the damnedest thing, but we got the strongest urge to come to the Kee’s cottage. That he needed our help.”
Echo stopped herself in the middle of a dip that was on its way to a knowing nod that natural reaction prompted. These nods turned out as contagious as a yawn. “Well, it happens Keegan does need your help.”
“Is he all right?” Duplex asked. “Is he hurt?”
When his eyes enlarged to the size of golf balls, she realized her error. These bikers genuinely cared for Keegan. She had caused them unnecessary worry and should have anticipated that they would. Love was warping her brain.
She cast her eyes heavenward. Hopefully, that miscalculation slipped past Him, too.
Her manners were sorely lacking, she realized. “Won’t you come in? We were about to have a séance. Perhaps you’d like to participate?” She hoped they’d agree. Smith represented love; Keegan, faith; Duplex, charity; and Forty-Ouncer, hope; and without all of these qualities banding together, the séance wouldn’t work as efficiently or effectively.
She waited while both bikers wiped their dusty boots on the mat, then led them to the living room and offered them a seat on the sofa. She called toward the kitchen, “Keegan, Smith, we have company.”
“A séance?” Duplex said. “I haven’t played that game since I was a kid, and that was several decades ago.” He laughed, his voice hoarse from too many years of booze and tobacco.
Forty-Ouncer volunteered his confession. “I never did. But then, I never had the privileged upbringing of the ‘Plex.” He bopped Duplex on the arm. “I always thought these games for pussys, wusses and pansies.”
“Who you calling a pansy, Beverly?”
Echo arched a brow. These bikers were proving highly entertaining and interesting. She watched Keegan and Smith as they sauntered into the room and shook hands with the bikers.
While they chatted, she lit candles, closed the shutters on the windows, and touched a match to the wood fire she’d built after arriving back home. Home. The word rang a soothing note in her mind.
She laid out the Ouija board and asked, “Can I get you boys anything to drink?” She smiled at their chorus of ‘no’s.’
Forty-Ouncer looked at the board, then at her. “Shouldn’t there be a crystal ball for a séance?”
“You’re quite right. We’ll use the pointer as one and the board as a conduit to the spirits.” Truthfully, none of that hocus-pocus was needed for her to raise spirits. She’d suggested the board merely to capture the men’s interest so they would participate. If the séance seemed like a game, there would be no reason for them to feel threatened or frightened.
“Is the time right?” Smith asked.
“The time is perfect. Can I ask you all to take a seat on the floor pillows around the table?”
After the men stood, she said, “Keegan, I’d like you here.” She pointed to the pillow positioned north. “Smith, would you sit across from Keegan? Duplex, please sit on Keegan’s right, and Forty-Ouncer, on Smith’s left.” She scootched in between Duplex and Keegan.
After settling on the oversized pillow, she closed her eyes and opened her mind to nothingness. Drawing a deep breath and exhaling, she purged herself of impurities.
With a firm grasp on tranquility, she extended her hands to the sides. “Would everyone take the hand of the one next to you, please?”
Keegan and Forty-Ouncer took her hands. “Close your eyes and your minds.” She kept her voice soft and breathy. “Nothing exists but us.”
The fire crackled, flickering light and darkness through the room. The ashy odor of burning wood mingled with the honeysuckle scent of the candles.
“Will you really conjure up spirits?” Duplex asked.
“Does a rooster crow only at the break of dawn?” She waited patiently while he pondered the question.
“He could if he turns directly to the sun.”
“Well, there you go. There’s always a chance.” She sighed with happiness. “Embrace the warmth and open your hearts to the love and peace that surrounds us.”
She listened to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata playing softly in the background and waited through several heartbeats before she spoke. “We are fire, passion, serenity and truth, and all that is good.”
“We are all that is good,” Keegan said.
Her heart smiled at his faith.
“We are everything good,” Duplex said, and Smith repeated the words of the biker who represented charity.
“Charity, love, and faith have pledged their allegiance. What say ye, Hope?”
Forty-Ouncer chorused, “We are all that is good.”
“All that is good.” Echo could hear the pointer travel the Ouija board. She sensed a presence; a female spirit, uncertain whether to step forward. She hoped the ghost was the one she wanted. To sneak past the quick ears of the bikers, she communicated telepathically with her. Lena, is that you?
Yes.
Echo let out a sigh of relief. Please come closer. You have nothing to fear.
You’re not here to escort me to Heaven and Henry, to Hell?
No, honey, I’m not. Keegan needs your help. Is Henry with you?
No, but he ain’t far off.
Echo suspected he wasn’t. Even death could not separate this couple. Unfortu
nately, because Henry had committed suicide, he would not be granted entrance to Heaven. Neither in life nor death could Henry and Lena be without the other.
Get him for me, please. We need his help as well.
While she waited for Lena’s return, a wind lamented at the windowpanes. The howl of a coyote sounded as close as the front stoop. Pairs of eyes opened. Through her hands, Echo sent strength to the men. They relaxed almost instantly.
I’m back with Henry, Lena said.
Thank you. Echo had to smile at Henry’s unease. She imagined Lena told him the reason for his bidding, yet still he was afraid Echo was here to turn him over to The Morning Star.
Lucifer could do his own work.
How are you, Henry?
I’ve been better.
Yes, I imagine you have. You remember Keegan, don’t you, Henry?
Of course. He’s…he was my lawyer.
That’s right, but he was also your friend, wasn’t he? And still is.
Uh-huh.
Perhaps you already know this, but our friend’s essence has slipped between the folds.
It’s being kept safe, Lena said. We didn’t know who it belonged to.
Who is watching over it?
Us and some friends. Demons were after it, but we’re smarter. We don’t keep it in one place long.
Echo sensed Lena’s sadness. What is it?
It’s falling apart fast. It’ll be gone soon.
We must hurry then and guide its return. Echo wanted to keep calm, but despite her effort, her anxiety seeped into her thoughts, tightening her throat. Knowing what Keegan would become without his soul caused her to tremble.
Henry and I and our friends can help.
Good. You will have to set it onto the right path.
I know.
Quickly. Time is of the essence.
A rustle like the swirl of taffeta filled the room, and then silence fell.
“It’s no use,” Forty-Ouncer said. “The ghosts won’t come.”
Echo strengthened her hold on his hand when he attempted to let go. “Patience. They will come. Wait and see.”
Seconds stretched to minutes. Echo grew troubled when those passing moments marked a half hour.
She was about to break the circle when Henry and Lena appeared in a flourish of activity. A sphere of light hovered inches above their open palms. They came to a hesitant stop between Smith and Duplex and looked at Echo.
She blew a soft breath and guided the sphere toward Keegan.
It moved slowly at first, then gathered speed as it neared its host. In a flash of exquisite pinpoints of light, Keegan’s soul re-entered his body. Beneath his lowered eyelids, his eyes moved from side to side before settling back into position. A tiny smile curled his lip.
Echo exhaled. I will advise Him of your courage, she telepathically conveyed to Henry and Lena. And your willingness to help.
Just then, the cottage jigged on its timbers, rattling dishes and glassware. The flames on the candles burned off and on in concert with the shutters banging open and closed. A fierce wind slammed against the logs, clattering windowpanes.
Echo lost control of the meeting.
The bikers stood amid their exclamations of surprise and fear, joined seconds later by Keegan and Smith.
“What the hell?” Duplex yelled, his hands fisting at his sides, obviously preparing to hammer heads.
Echo took a precious moment to determine the solidity of the structure. Satisfied the cottage would withstand the demon attack, she stood and attempted to regain the attention of the men.
“I guess we upset someone.” She forced a laugh. The last thing she wanted was these bikers outside where they would be prey to the demons. “Stay calm and everything will be fine.” To her words, “No one can get in,” the garden doors blew into the room, spewing splinters and glass shards everywhere.
Prophesy Page 17
