by Kate Gellar
“You can teach it, but you have to like history to understand it. And it’s not only the US that struggles with the past. This country does, too. We have such a rich and vibrant history, but it’s at risk of being lost if the next generation shows no interest in it. With too much else to distract them, they’ve forgotten the importance in preserving it. But in two generations if we don’t protect history, it will all be gone.”
Abby smiled. “Spoken like a true historian.”
Liam focused on the tree. “I’ve been doing this for a while.”
“What, since you were ten?” Abby frowned. “You’re like only a few years older than me.”
Liam ran a hand through his hair. “Since I was twenty-one. A few years can feel like a lifetime.”
Abby understood that. The last two months had felt like the longest of her life.
“Brendan said that you four are preserving the castle for the next generation,” she said. “I like that.”
“If they even want it.” Liam smiled and touched Abby’s shoulder.
A jolt slammed into her out of nowhere. She gasped and stumbled back, hitting the tree. But instead of breaking their connection, Liam’s hand slid further down her arm. He looked as shocked as she felt.
“What the fuck?” said Liam.
What the fuck indeed. Abby couldn’t form words. His hand close to hers delivered clarity similar to what she’d experienced with Brendan before the start of orientation. An uncomfortable pressure built in her fingers until they ached to touch him. With his hand on hers, she lifted both and grazed his face with her fingers. Liam jerked and grunted against what felt like a burst of power coming from her fingertips. His parted lips and heavy breaths contrasted his wide-eyed expression and firm grip on her arm. He looked like he wanted this but also like he didn’t.
Abby should have stopped, but an inner force greater than her took over.
Liam squeezed his eyes shut. A raw energy built, concentrating on the point where her hand connected with his face. His strength, his power, warmed her hand and shot up her arm and down to the rest of her body. Abby braced against the power’s force as it continued to leach out from him into her. Like a drug, it invigorated her.
Despite the strained look on his face, Liam whispered, “More.” Surprised by her boldness she leaned in and brushed her lips against his; a new shock zapped her though the thin skin. Then Liam groaned, and that one sound pushed Abby on take more from him. She sucked and licked, pulling his face to hers to keep it in place. Liam resisted her but the sounds he made said the opposite. He opened his mouth to permit her entry. She slipped her tongue inside where it danced with his. Liam’s breathing grew shallow and Abby felt his erection pressed into her.
Her newfound energy drained away fast, as though Liam was taking it all back. She yelped as the speed of its exit left her skin on fire and her body tingling.
She broke contact to find Liam’s eyes had darkened to an almost black. He looked deathly pale, weak. But the longer she waited, the more he recovered.
“What the hell was that?” said Liam, smiling. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“Are you okay?” Abby felt tears forming. “I’m sorry. I’ve no idea what just happened.”
“It’s okay, it’s normal.” He went to touch her again, but she jerked away from him.
“That wasn’t normal.” Tears fell. She dropped the rake on the ground and stepped back from him. “I think I need to lie down.”
She turned and ran back to the castle, feeling many things. Confusion was at the top of her list.
She glanced back to where she’d left Liam to see him smiling at her.
13
Abby
Abby snapped her bedroom curtains shut in her feeble attempts to keep out the intrusive mid-morning light. The sun’s brightness bothered her more than usual. Her skin crawled, not in a bad way but as though it had been stripped of something she needed. Desired, even. Her kiss with Liam left her feeling empty and cold inside.
What the hell’s wrong with me?
Abby strode over to her chest of drawers and examined her face in the mirror. She didn’t look sick. She looked fine. What ailed her must be on the inside. She crawled under her duvet and stared up at the ceiling.
What happened between her and Liam wasn’t normal, despite what he said. It was different to the spark she felt when she’d touched his hand. The jolt between them had ignited a dormant hunger within her. It felt like she was feeding off his energy. Then he fed off hers.
Abby shook her head at the nonsense. She’d barely been in the castle a day. How could she already be losing it? She picked up her phone still charging by her bedside. No new messages. A quick chat with either Paul or Wendy might help to clear up her confusion. But who should she message, and with what? Her two best friends were acting strange. The last thing Abby needed was to get stuck in the middle of a new drama.
A knock on her door jerked her into an upright position. She dropped her phone back on the side table.
“Come in.”
Sylvie appeared at the door. “Heard you were sick again. You need anything, cherie?”
Yeah. A friend. “Come in. I need to ask you something.”
Sylvie closed the door and sat on the bed, scooting until her back was pressed against the wall. “Is it really just the jet lag?”
Abby looked up at her new friend, detecting the skeptical tone in her voice. “No, Sylvie. Definitely not jet lag. I don’t know what happened. I’ve barely been in this castle a day and this place gives me the creeps.”
“Fuck! Me too.” Sylvie huffed out a breath. Abby hadn’t expected that answer. “A few of the girls said the same thing to me. It can’t be a coincidence.”
Abby sat up straighter, fueled on by Sylvie’s words. “Do you think this place was built on a gas line? Maybe we’re slowly being poisoned. People die from carbon monoxide poisoning, you know. Or maybe it’s EMF.”
“EMF?”
“Electromagnetic fields. When a property is built near an electric pole, its effects can cause dizziness, hallucinations. I’ve already experienced both. When the car passed through the gates, I felt a tingling sensation. And again when I took my first shower. Plus, when I touched Liam’s hand yesterday, a little jolt of electricity sparked between us.” She didn’t want to mention the larger spark between them less than ten minutes ago.
Sylvie looked at her. “Do you like the boys?”
“What?”
“I said do you like the boys?” She crossed her ankles and looked ahead. “Certain girls do. Very much. It’s all they talk about. Liam this, Murphy that. He has hot tattoos. Very dangereux.”
“Yeah, they’re nice...” Abby didn’t see the relevance. “Look this isn’t high school. The girls can go after who they please.” Abby ignored the tug of jealousy that accompanied her words.
Sylvie rolled her eyes at her. “I don’t mean that. I don’t feel anything for them. I’d rather not be in the same room as them. Can’t explain why, but it’s like we’re mortal enemies.”
Abby snorted. “I’m sure if we get in the way of these women, we’ll make a few mortal enemies before the three months are out.”
Sylvie lay down on Abby’s single bed forcing Abby to make room for her. A question came to her as she stared up at the ceiling. “Are you gay, Sylvie?”
Sylvie laughed. “It’s my French way. We ignore boundaries. Sure, I’ve noticed the girls, but I’m attracted to men.”
“So what do you think it is? Why do you feel so weird with the boys in the house?”
Sylvie turned to her side, her face inches from Abby’s on the small bed. Abby pushed back to get space. The French sure liked to get close. With a house full of Europeans, maybe Abby should make more of an effort to understand the differences in the cultures.
“This castle puts me on edge,” Sylvie whispered. “Certain rooms make my skin crawl. In others, I feel nothing. It’s like there’s a presence here.”
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“That puts me back to my original theory about EMF.”
“No, it’s more than that.” Sylvie was close enough that they could bump noses. “Have you seen the symbols on our doors?”
“Yeah, Celtic symbols. That’s what Sam said. Decorative, I suppose.”
Sylvie flipped onto her back and pulled out her phone. She pulled up an image and showed it to Abby. It was a symbol similar to the ones on the doors. “This exact one is on my door. It’s called a protection rune. Witches use them to contain the magic within.”
“Where, inside the rooms?”
Sylvie shrugged. “They’re also used to keep magic out.” She flicked off her phone and rested it on her stomach. “Either the symbols are there to protect us from an invisible energy or to protect the castle from us.”
Abby laughed. “That’s a bit farfetched, don’t you think? They could be just decorative.”
“I touched my symbol before I came here. It felt hot to the touch, like it was working extra hard.”
Abby got up and walked to the window, needing air and space. She sat on the window sill and looked back at Sylvie still on the bed. “I don’t believe in magic, or folklore, or witches, Sylvie.”
Sylvie sat up. “And you call yourself a history major?”
“Exactly. History is not magic, or fantasy. It’s reality. It actually happened.”
“And what if witches really did exist, or magic was possible? Just because you ‘aven’t seen either doesn’t mean it’s not real or part of history. My grandmere back home told me that Europe has a deep history of witchery, magic, and other stuff. She said it’s highly likely most Europeans come from a magical bloodline.”
Abby had heard enough. “I was born in the US, raised in Bay Ridge in Brooklyn. My family was normal. My father died of natural causes. My mother got ill and passed away. Nothing strange happened to me except life. Actually, this is probably the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had. I stand by my theory that it’s EMF or a gas leakage.”
Yet, she couldn’t explain what had happened between her and Liam in the garden. Or between her and Brendan before the presentation.
Sylvie sighed and climbed off the bed. She walked to the door. “Okay, ‘ave it your way. But if anything else strange happens, let me know. I will not give up on my theory.”
She left the room and Abby alone to think up a plan. Clearly Liam was a magnet for EMF. They both were. It was a crazy explanation, though that didn’t quite cover what had happened with Brendan. The best thing she could do was stay away from both men. That’s how it had to be.
She could do it. She could get through three months without touching Liam again.
14
Sam
“Holy shit, the craziest thing just happened!”
Liam burst into Sam’s office. It was Monday, which meant Sam had accounts to balance, bills to pay, and to work out how much money was left in his father’s trust fund. Plus he had to keep the arts council happy with weekly reports on the program’s progress so he could get their grant money and keep doing this crazy shit.
Sam rubbed his eyes and closed the laptop. They needed to find the one, fast. The funding barely covered light and heat in this place. And these girls ate like they’d been on hunger strike for a week.
“What is it?” Sam gestured for Liam to sit in a chair on the opposite side of his desk. He had no energy for this much excitement this early on a Monday morning.
Liam sat down, a shit eating grin on his face. “Something. Happened.”
Sam had heard it before. Liam was the most optimistic of the four and the one who fell in love every time Sam arranged for a new group of women, or men, to stay at the castle.
Last time it was a curvy blonde woman who had turned both Murphy’s and Brendan’s heads, too. Sam had been quietly optimistic that time—it was unusual for three out of four to feel a connection—but he sensed nothing from her. He thought his ability to sense energy was on the blink so he went along with it and sent the other girls home. Then the castle saw what the others refused to see. The attractive blonde had been a mortal and of no use to their cause. A queen’s power would agitate the souls trapped beneath the seal, but they didn’t react to the curvy blonde. The rune on her door had never warmed up once. The only thing hot that day was the three libidos of his three friends.
But Liam was still smiling. Okay, he’d play along.
“Let me guess. You fell in love and the others feel it, too,” said Sam.
Liam made a noise and waved his hand. “Ha ha, Sam. Glad to see you haven’t lost that pessimism.”
“I have it for good reason. The role of guardian was passed down to me. My father handpicked you and Brendan as successors when the time came, even though you weren’t destined for this castle.” Murphy’s connection with the castle only became live after the death of his father.
“Well, I bet he would have approved of the new way we join our energies with the one, when we find her that is.”
The role of protector was much simpler back in his father’s day. Choosing the right queen to bolster one guardian’s power created a bond so powerful that no demonic soul could match it. Back then it involved no physical connection, but both queen and guardian must fall in love. His father had fallen in love, but with a white witch. Their misguided union had led to both of their deaths. Sam would not make the same mistake.
Now the demonic souls had more power, which meant the seal needed more guardians to keep it closed. Four at current count. And the queen had to be strong, too, strong enough to share her power with all four.
It had been the local coven’s idea for the guardians and queen to physically bond. To achieve that bond, the guardians must form an intimate mind and body connection with the one destined to be queen. Guardianships in other castles where similar bonds had been formed reported a higher success rate of permanent seal closures. The local witches had protected the castle throughout the centuries, but their magic lacked the power of a queen’s and was no match for the demonic powers that tested the seal daily. The only problem with the bonding ritual was the guardians had no clue how to find the queen. How could they when the girl destined for that role didn’t even know her bloodline linked them to a castle in Ireland.
Throw in four red-blooded males keen to initiate that bond, and confusion often muddied the waters during these “Summer History Programs”.
Sam didn’t want to think about what his father might have said about the new bonding rituals. “Why are you here, Liam? I’ve got a ton of work to do and no money to do it with.”
Liam slouched in his chair and folded his arms, looking smug. “I’ve found her.”
“Who?”
“The girl. The one. The queen.”
“If you’re talking about Abby Brennan, I admit I’m attracted to her. But I have a weakness for redheads and pale skin, so I don’t trust my judgment.”
“Yeah her.” Liam leaned forward in his chair. “A thing happened, in the garden. We touched and sparks flew. We locked lips and, well, it was like she was stealing my power. But then she relaxed her hold long enough for me to take hers.”
Sam looked up. That was new. “So was she taking your power or were you taking hers? Because one’s a dark witch, and the other’s a queen.”
“I think it was the latter. She caught me off guard... I wasn’t ready.”
“Is she a witch or a queen, Liam? Because the former can kill us.”
Liam pondered Sam’s question. “Has to be the latter, Sam. I mean, why was I able to take her power?”
Sam sighed and leaned back. How indeed? “The dark witches often mask as queens to trick us. Our power is like an aphrodisiac to them. They want it, but the problem is they don’t share.”
Keeping the seal closed was as important to the witches—dark or white—as it was to the guardians. The demonic souls fed on power; witches were a tempting snack. So were the guardians who could die if a witch controlled by darkness stole too much of thei
r power. And often it happened because they couldn’t stop themselves. White witches didn’t get the same kick as a dark witch.
Since the guardians, not the white witches, were paramount to keeping the seal closed, both sides agreed never to touch each other.
Sam could have a castle full of potential witches who had no idea what they were. All it would take was for one boy to fall under a dark witch’s spell. The four guardians were connected. Any power stolen would be felt by all and weaken their bond.
But Liam wasn’t deterred. “This one’s different, Sam. Maybe she is a dark witch and I’m getting sucked in to her games she doesn’t even know she’s playing. But I felt power from her. I felt powerful. Tell me you didn’t sense it.”
Sam had felt a small tingle when he’d seen Abby at the airport. But a headache followed soon after. And ten minutes ago he’d felt lightheaded again, but he had skipped breakfast. Anything else was down to his nerves about this program and the pressures of keeping that damn seal closed.
Sam rested his elbows on the table. “We can’t take risks when we don’t know what the girls are. All four of us should talk, now.”
Liam stood up. “I’ll get the others and we can meet back in here.”
Sam nodded and watched Liam leave. He sat back and rested his finger on his lips.
A potential queen in the castle? Sam refused to believe it without proof. He’d been down this road before, and had almost died a year ago believing one girl had been a queen. She turned out to be a dark witch who stole half his power during the one minute they kissed. It took three weeks and dozens of spells cast by their white witch allies to restore his power to full strength. His stolen power weakened Liam and Brendan to the point where the seal had almost opened a dozen times in those three weeks.
Murphy and Brendan mustn’t have been far because Liam returned with them in tow less than three minutes later. Sam perched on his great grandfather’s mahogany desk while the others stood and listened to Liam explain what had happened with Abby.
