The Fourth Power: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Romance Novel (Order of Magic Book 3)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “It sounds like it,” Martin agreed.

  “Martin, hello,” Lorna greeted from the stage. “It’s good to see you again.”

  He nodded. “Hello.”

  “Lorna,” Lorna pointed at herself. She sat in one of the chairs with the séance book open on her lap, copying over one of the séance incantations.

  “Yes, I remember.” Martin looked toward Vivien. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” Vivien called to him.

  “Thank you for your desire to help my daughter,” Martin said to all of them. “I appreciate what you are trying to do here, but I have to tell you upfront I don’t believe in this kind of thing. I won’t mock you for your beliefs, but I just have to be honest.”

  “Thank you for your honesty.” Vivien gave a little smile. “We tend to find seeing is believing for most people.”

  Heather tried not to laugh. Vivien made it sound like they did this kind of thing often.

  Martin climbed onto the stage and looked at the ceiling before inspecting the area.

  “There are no trick wires or mirrors or projectors,” Vivien said. “Feel free to check whatever you like.”

  “That’s not true. We have the movie projector,” Lorna corrected.

  “Which will only prove helpful if we decide to screen Casablanca later,” Vivien answered. “Inspect anything you want. We have nothing to hide,” Vivien said.

  Martin lifted the cloth from where it draped over the edge of the table and looked underneath. He picked up each chair and rocked them to test their stability. Then he paced along the back of the stage to check out what was hidden behind there.

  “Satisfied?” Heather asked.

  “Yes.” Martin turned to the table. “So how does this work? Do we turn off the lights, light some candles? Put our hand on a Ouija board? Gaze into a crystal ball?”

  “Not quite.” Lorna closed the book and set it in the middle of the table. She held onto the piece of paper she’d been writing on. “It’s incantations.”

  Martin studied the book cover and lightly lifted a corner with his index finger to peek inside at the title page that read, “Warrick.”

  Vivien pulled a lighter out of her pocket and held it. “Say it.”

  He glanced up at her.

  “Say what? Warrick?” He pulled his hand away, and the cover dropped.

  “Not that. Say what you’re thinking. You’re worried we’re doing something satanic,” Vivien stated.

  “I wasn’t going to say that.” Martin shook his head.

  “But you’re thinking it.” Vivien gave him a soft smile. “It’s all right to be nervous. We don’t worship Satan, or sacrifice things, or make pacts with the devil.”

  “But we believe there is a devil,” Lorna said. “And a God.”

  It was a little hard not to believe in something more when they talked to ghosts and had summoned a demon from another dimension.

  “Think of what we do as magic, not good or bad, just magic,” Vivien explained.

  “I disagree,” Heather put forth, coming to stand beside Martin. “I would say what we do is good magic, or at least what we try to do.”

  “What I mean is, this kind of magic is only as good as the person wielding it,” Vivien clarified. “And we mean to do good.”

  This was the first time they had to try to convince someone so their speeches weren’t fine-tuned. Besides the three of them, only William and Troy knew the truth. William had grown up with supernatural talk thanks to the family legacy, so even for the many years he’d been a nonbeliever, he still knew about it. Troy was an academic and had accepted Vivien’s abilities. He’d asked a lot of detailed questions about what they do, so his prompts had kept them from having to explain something that was hard for most people to comprehend in the abstract.

  “Think of it as biological evolution,” Lorna suggested. “Like how humans, in general, have become taller over the last one hundred and fifty years, or how brains developed over human evolution. What we do is like that.”

  Heather knew what Lorna was trying to say but wasn’t sure her point was getting across.

  “So talking to the dead is evolution?” Martin asked, clearly not following where Lorna tried to lead.

  “Let me try this again,” Lorna said, glancing at Vivien and Heather for help. “We’ve evolved… You know, the explanation went better in my head. Never mind.”

  “I think I got this,” Vivien took over. “For example, I have the ability to read people. My ancestors developed gifts other people didn’t have. Just as some people grow tall and athletic to become great basketball players, my ancestors’ minds grew strong, and they became fortune tellers. They passed that genetic trait down to me, and so now I’m clairsentient-claircognizant. I can sense things about people.”

  “So you’re a mentalist,” he reasoned. “You read microexpressions, things like that.”

  “I’d call it psychic,” Vivien corrected before gesturing to Lorna. “Lorna’s evolution is the ability to transfer energy. She can heal people.”

  Martin looked at Lorna in disbelief. “So then why not just go to the hospital and make people better? Why not cure Jan? Take all of this away from her?”

  “Healing comes with a price,” Lorna said. “It’s not curing someone so much as giving their illness to someone else.”

  “And what Jan has doesn’t need to be cured,” Heather objected to the wording.

  “Lorna is also very good at finding lost items,” Vivien continued.

  He looked at Heather as if expecting her to say something.

  Part of her wanted him to know everything, to know her, the real her. Another part of her wanted to stop this conversation and reverse time to hide her true self. The latter was the more familiar territory. She took comfort in her secrets. But it was already way too late for that.

  “You already know to talk to ghosts,” she said. “I see and hear what other people can’t.”

  “Ready?” Vivien asked the group.

  Martin nodded.

  Vivien lit one of the candles. All four wicks set fire at once. Martin made a strange noise and lifted one of the candles from the table to examine it.

  “Figure it out?” Vivien asked.

  “Trick candles?” He set it back down in its place.

  “Magic,” Vivien answered. “Pure and simple magic.”

  “I wouldn’t say simple,” Lorna protested, glancing up from the book.

  “I have to agree with Lorna,” Heather said. Nothing about their lives had been simple since they found Julia’s rings.

  Heather moved to sit across from Lorna. She gestured to her right for Martin to sit next to them. Vivien took her place across from Martin’s chair.

  “So why the theater stage?” Martin asked as he slowly sat down.

  “Like I mentioned before, this place was my grandma’s favorite building. She likes to hang out here,” Heather answered. “So the location means a lot to her. Also, this is where she used to hold her public séances back in the day, so it makes sense it would be an emotionally charged place for her to show herself to us.”

  Lorna placed a piece of paper on the table in front of Martin. “This is the incantation that you’ll say with us.”

  He leaned over and read the words to himself.

  Heather shared a looked with Vivien and Lorna. She could tell they were all thinking the same thing. They really hoped this worked. William was Julia’s grandson, so it made sense she would show herself to him the last time they’d summoned her. Martin was a stranger. They had never tried this before.

  Heather looked for her grandmother, hoping to find her so she could explain before they started. Julia was still nowhere to be found.

  “Any questions?” Vivien asked Martin.

  He shook his head in denial.

  Heather reached out her hand. He glanced at it and hesitated before taking it. The warmth of his fingers closed around hers, and she felt the flow of his energy coming into her hand. It traveled up her a
rm and settled low in her stomach.

  Wait, no. Crap. That wasn’t the beginning of magic. That was pure sexual attraction.

  His eyes stayed on hers as if he felt it too. His fingers moved slightly against her, a tiny caress that made her shiver. The prolonged contact caught her complete attention. She glanced at his mouth. All of the attraction she’d been trying to deny between them began to bubble to the surface. She started to lean in for a…

  “Uh-hem,” Vivien cleared her throat.

  Heather rapidly blinked as she came out of her daze.

  Vivien held her hand toward her, not bothering to hide her smirk of amusement. Heather slowly reached out and joined hands with her. At the contact, her hair began to lift from her shoulders. She felt Vivien, and Lorna’s emotions mingling inside her as they connected.

  When she turned her attention back to Martin, he’d joined hands with Lorna and was staring down at the piece of paper intently. The lights flickered and dimmed. The candles burned brighter.

  Martin’s eyes widened as he looked around the table at him. His longer hair started to lift, and he let go of Lorna to pat it down. The reaction appeared automatic, and he caught himself mid-pat. He looked at the three of them as if realizing their hair was doing it too. He returned his hand to Lorna’s.

  “Ready?” Lorna asked.

  “Not really,” Martin said under his breath.

  “Just say the words with us and don’t release hands until we tell you to,” Heather said. “I promise it’s going to be all right.”

  She hoped she wasn’t lying.

  “It might be scary at first, but Julia won’t harm you,” Vivien added.

  Heather glanced at the spell Lorna had written out for Martin. It was a new addition to the book; one they’d modified and added from Julia’s incantations. It had worked to bring Julia forth last time, and they hadn’t wanted to forget it.

  She felt Martin’s nervousness. He tried to hide it, but it was there.

  “I feel strange,” Martin whispered to Heather.

  “That’s normal,” she said. “It’s all part of the process. Try to relax, and don’t forget to breathe.”

  He nodded, and she could see his skepticism was beginning to fade.

  “As we say the words, concentrate on wanting to talk to Julia Warrick,” Heather instructed.

  He nodded again.

  Their emotions continued to flow freely through her, coming from Martin’s hand through her body and out to Vivien. The feelings mixed together as if they all became one in a spiritual sense. Lorna fretted about Jan and finding answers for Martin. Vivien appeared excited to be helping someone outside of their circle as if she just realized this might be their calling in life. Heather wasn’t sure she agreed with Vivien on that point.

  Heather worried about what Martin might learn about her in the process, but he appeared more confused and apprehensive about the sensation than anything else. He was also determined to help his daughter at any cost. That one fact was what kept him seated in his chair.

  “Say the words,” Heather instructed, prompting the others to say in unison, “Spirits tethered to this plane we humbly seek your guidance. Spirits search amongst your numbers for the spirit we seek. We call forth Julia Warrick from the great beyond.”

  Heather stared at the closed book as she waited to feel her grandma’s presence.

  After a long pause, Martin whispered, “Is that it?”

  “Try again,” Heather said. “Focus on calling Julia to us.”

  “Spirits tethered to this plane, we humbly seek your guidance,” they repeated in unison. “Spirits search amongst your numbers for the spirit we seek. We call forth Julia Warrick from the great beyond.”

  Heather kept her hand on his as she turned to look at the auditorium. She felt the slightest hint of a presence but wasn’t sure if it was her grandmother or someone else.

  “Again,” Vivien said.

  Again, they repeated, “Spirits tethered to this plane we humbly seek your guidance. Spirits search amongst your numbers for the spirit we seek. We call forth Julia Warrick from the great beyond.”

  “Do you hear that?” Martin looked over his shoulder. Heather tightened her grip so he wouldn’t let go.

  “What? Does it sound like jazz?” Vivien asked. She gave Heather a meaningful look. “That’s what I heard playing last time, before Julia…”

  Vivien’s eyes widened, and she didn’t finish the thought. It was what had been playing when Julia borrowed Vivien’s body to dance. The rest of them had not heard it.

  “Julia,” Heather hurriedly said. “Don’t.”

  Please don’t wear Martin like a human suit and dance the hoochie-coochie, she silently pleaded.

  “No, not music,” Martin answered. “It’s…”

  Martin frowned, turning in his seat to look over his other shoulder.

  “Do you hear anything?” Lorna asked Heather.

  Heather shook her head. She felt a slight presence.

  “I think someone is crying, or maybe moaning?” He shifted in his seat. “I feel like it’s behind me. What is that?”

  Did they bring forward a weepy ghost?

  Heather looked over the empty stage. The overhead lights went completely out, casting them in darkness except for the candles. The ghoulish effect of the fiery glow flickered across their faces in harsh contrast.

  “I don’t like this,” Martin said. His uneasiness intensified. Heather felt his panic building through the connection.

  “Shh,” Vivien whispered. “I think I see something.”

  Heather saw it too. A soft glow formed in the darkness. The image of a woman appeared like mist, the exact translucent shape lacking definition, yet the impression of a skirt and legs formed in white. As the image gained strength, the sound of moaning came with it. The ghostly woman stood with her back to them, her head down as if she cried into her hands.

  “I hear it,” Lorna said.

  “Me too,” Vivien answered.

  “Who is it?” Lorna asked.

  Heather felt their eyes glancing toward her for answers, but she didn’t have one.

  “Martin, do you recognize her?” Heather asked, wondering if maybe it was his dead wife since he’d heard her first.

  “No,” Martin said. She felt his hand tighten on hers.

  The ghost began to rotate slowly, floating as her legs didn’t move. The moaning became louder as the voice crackled. A pale impression of muted colors developed in the misty form. Dark lines formed over the ghost’s skin like throbbing veins. Short dark hair fell forward to hide the face.

  Heather’s breath caught. She tried to remember the words they’d said to send the demon away, but her mind was blank. Fear crept through her, partly hers, partly her friends as it came through their joined hands.

  The ghost’s head began to twitch as if finding it hard to move as her face lifted to look at them.

  “Oh, shit,” Lorna whispered.

  Martin tensed.

  “Is that…?” Vivien sounded confused.

  The ghost quickly spun the rest of the way, lifting her hands. Her face contorted as she yelled, “Boo!”

  The candleflames burst like fiery torches. Lorna let out a yelp. Heather’s heart leaped in her chest and began to hammer violently. Martin ripped his hand from Heather’s grasp as he positioned himself between the ghost and the three women. He put his arms wide as if to shield them from harm with his body.

  “Stay behind me,” Martin ordered.

  “Julia?” Vivien asked.

  Heather pressed her hand over her chest and tried to take a calming breath. Julia stood, shoulders hunched, breathing hard as her head twitched.

  “Grandma?” Heather asked, attempting to push past Martin to get a better look.

  He grabbed her as she tried to pass and pulled her against his chest. “Don’t.”

  Heather stiffened in surprise at being held so close. His strong arms wrapped around her, and she didn’t instantly fight to be
free.

  A snickering sounded, and they all stared at Julia. The ghost’s color slowly improved, and the twitching became more of a shake. She looked like the younger version of herself, the jokester twenty-year-old who ran hooch across state lines. Her bobbed hair darkened and curled with finger waves. Red lipstick filled in her lips. Her tattered dress melted into a pair of high-waisted trousers and a blouse.

  “Julia, what the hell?” Vivien demanded. “You scared the crap out of us.”

  Julia straightened her posture and began to full-on laugh. The lights flickered, coming back on. “You should have seen your faces. I couldn’t resist.”

  Heather frowned. She pushed lightly against Martin so he’d release her. “It’s fine. It’s just my grandma.”

  Julia held out her hand, and a hat appeared. She used it to fan her face.

  “That’s your Grandma Julia?” Martin asked, standing close to Heather.

  “In the flesh.” Julia lifted her arms to the side and struck a pose.

  “One version of her, anyway,” Heather answered.

  “And she’s a…” He took an audible breath.

  “Ghost,” Vivien prompted. “Yes.”

  Martin took another deep breath. “Ghost.”

  “Well, former flesh,” Julia continued, not really listening to them. She put the fedora on her head at a stylish angle. “Unless one of you ladies wants to give me a ride somewhere? Viv, doll face, how about it? Scooch over and let me in again.”

  “Stay out of Viv, Grandma,” Heather warned. “We talked about that.”

  “You are such a fuddy-duddy,” Julia dismissed, before scolding, “and I told you I hate when you call me that. Do I look like a grandma to you?”

  “This is so…” Martin said under his breath. He held very still. Heather touched his arm, trying to reassure him. Julia was a lot to take in even when someone was used to ghosts.

  “Uh, Heather, is he all right?” Lorna asked, going to his chair to turn it around the other way to face him. “Maybe he should sit down.”

  Julia turned her attention to Martin as if looking at him for the first time. “Oh my stars, you brought me a werewolf!”