by Jen Talty
Nor could anyone else with a pulse, male or female.
She slapped her paddle against the water, splashing him.
“I remember this,” she said.
“But you won’t remember this part.”
In the vision, the lake opened, and her parents appeared in front of Gave.
“Holy fuck.” Willow grabbed his arm and leaned forward. “Did they—”
“Just watch and listen.”
Gabe stopped paddling and glanced over his shoulder. Willow was oblivious, but he hadn’t known that at the time. “Mr. and Mrs. Raven?”
“We don’t have much time,” Mr. Raven said. “And this won’t make much sense now.”
“There are a lot of things in my life that are much like a riddle that I can’t solve,” Gabe said with a long breath. “The police are still looking for your killers.”
“They don’t exist,” Mrs. Raven said.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It will in time,” Mr. Raven said. “We need you to find something for us.”
“What’s that?”
“Our energy. You won’t be able to pick up the signal for a few years, but once you do, we need you to hone in on it and take Willow to it. Can you do that for us?”
“I can,” he said.
“And? Do you feel their energy?”
“Yes. And it’s stronger up here.”
“Maybe tomorrow we should go kayaking,” she said with a dose of sarcasm. “I can’t believe my parents would be alive and not reach out to us, unless they were being held captive.”
“That’s a possibility.” Gabe held up the envelope. “That’s my last secret. I promise.”
“You better not lie to me again.”
“I don’t plan on it.” He reached out and cupped her chin. “Everything I’ve done has been either because I needed to in order to protect the future of our kind, or because I love you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips gently over hers in a promissory kiss. It had been a long time since he’d uttered those words.
She tipped her head back. “I’ve forgiven you and I mean it, but I can’t just go back to where we were before. It doesn’t work that way. A lot has happened since then, and I’m not in a place where I can simply slide into a relationship with you as if the last few years haven’t happened.”
He nodded as if he understood, but he didn’t. He waved the envelope. “Shall we?” One way or another, he’d win her over.
He had to.
Mateo was too cute of a kid not to enter this plane.
Chapter 6
Willow flattened the piece of paper across her middle and then raised it to the light. She stared at the handwriting. “Unbelievable.”
“What?” Gabe asked.
“My mother wrote this.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Would you rather I read it?”
Willow picked up the paper between her index finger and thumb and dropped it in Gabe’s lap as if it were on fire. “I think you’d better.” She snuggled in against his chest, wrapping an arm and leg around his strong body. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she focused on his pine scent.
Without a doubt, she loved him. She’d never stopped loving him and she never would. The fact that she didn’t really struggle to trust him made her want to crawl out of her skin. Forgiving him was one thing.
Giving him her heart was something entirely different.
Gabe tucked an arm under her body and kissed her temple. He cleared his throat.
“By the time you read this letter, your world will already have turned upside down a few times and there is nothing we can do to change that or make it better. I wish it were different, but it’s not. However, when all is said and done, everything you have been through, everything we have done, it will be worth it. It might not seem like it now, but the rewards are so amazing. We know you have the ability to catch glimpses of the future and some of those visions might be confusing. But you only need to understand that the fate of the future is in the destruction of stripping false power. Once Roger is removed from any psychic realm, we can come out of hiding, but until then, there are some things you need to know.”
“Jesus,” Willow mumbled. “They are alive,” she said with a shallow voice. “Can you home in on their energy?”
“I feel them. But I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. They are jumping around like a firefly.” He ran his free hand up and down her arm. “They could still be dead on this plane, so be prepared for that.”
She kissed his chest and closed her eyes. She wished she could feel their presence. She could barely remember what they smelled like, much less the sound of their voices.
“We hated the way in which we had to leave, but we also knew it would drive you girls down the right path that would lead you to this moment. Everything we did was to prepare you girls for this battle. There is only one way to defeat Roger, and that is reversing the witchcraft.” Gabe let out a long breath. “I never thought I’d say those words out loud.”
“Keep reading.”
“We’ve worked hard to develop the kinds of skills those who believe in psychics wouldn’t be frightened of, and that would mesh with what Riley and others were writing in their books. We had to create a narrative that both you and the enemy would follow so that when we pulled out the secret weapon, they wouldn’t see it coming. There is a paranormal who walks in Roger’s shadow. We put him there. He is watching and helping, though much like Gabe, it doesn’t appear that way. But once he shows himself, you will need to release the Raven Spirits from Roger’s soul and his ternary will end.” As Gabe read the words, little red, blue, yellow, and green sparks flicked off the page.
Her mother had a mystical element to her that had always fascinated Willow. Whenever she told her and her sisters stories, it was done so in such a magical way that it held Willow captive.
“That’s it.” She bolted upright, elbowing Gabe in the gut.
He groaned, clutching his side. “What’s it?”
“When I was little, my mom used to tell the best stories and sometimes for special family stories she would use her abilities.” Willow held up her hands and used her fingers to make quotation marks. “To make little movies.”
“Those weren’t motion pictures.”
“Nope. Now I just have to remember the right one.” She paced at the foot of the bed with one arm across her middle while she tapped her temple. There were only a dozen or so special stories, and she suspected every single one was important somehow.
“Why don’t you play them like a vision and maybe something will be revealed to us.”
Well, that made perfect fucking sense. She paused, closing her eyes, and focused on the memories. In her mind’s eye, she could see herself sitting in the middle of the family room with Alexis, snuggled together in a sleeping bag while her mother waved her finger, creating a colorful bubble over the fireplace. Her two older sisters sat on the sofa, a little less involved in story time. Willow flicked her index finger and the vision moved in what could only be described as fast-forward. A neat little trick.
“Your mom said these were all about family?”
“Or friends we made family.” Willow nodded. “She told a few about her grandfather’s best friend, Big D, who had the ability to move objects and he liked to play pranks on people. My mom said he was always pulling practical jokes on everyone. He would move food or drinks, but it drove her grandfather nuts when they’d play golf and he’d make his opponents ball lip out of the cup.”
“That’s cruel not to mention cheating.”
“He’d always laughed and owned it. Big D liked to believe he could do more than move solid material; he believed he could manipulate it, changing its shape and form. He’d tried for years to prove it but failed miserably. My mom and her family all had fun watching him do his parlor tricks, and she said he came up with some really cool ones. And she showed us.” W
illow raised both her index fingers and drew a square in the air. Dusty particles bellowed from the tips as an image of Big D appeared.
It was a grainy, watery image and it was impossible to see his face. Come to think of it, she’d never really been able to make out what Big D looked like in any of her mother’s stories. He’d always been a bit of an enigma, and frankly, Willow figured he wasn’t even real, especially because of this particular story.
“My mom really knew how to spin a good tale and this was her favorite.”
“What is he doing?” Gabe sat up on his knees and leaned closer to the vision. “It looks like gathering up psychic energy and putting it in a doll.”
“Exactly. Now watch what the doll does.” She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. It had been years since she thought about Big D or any of these memories.
The doll jumped to life, doing a little jig in the center of the room before collapsing at Big D’s feet.
“Impressive,” Gabe said. “I wish I could see—”
Big D turned and growled, showing off a couple of long, sharp teeth. His ice-blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits before widening. He lowered his head, shoving it right out of the makeshift screen, his face still fuzzy, making it impossible to identify. His body briefly morphed into one hell of a large werewolf.
But there was something familiar about him, even in his animal form.
She jerked, landing on Gabe’s lap. “He never turned into a wolf before.”
“I think he’s trying to communicate with us.” Gabe wrapped his arms around her waist. “Who are you and what do you want with us?”
“My name is Doyle Grove. I am the Alpha of the Lost Keepers Pack. I am also a warrior for the Collective Order. I have walked the earth waiting for balance to be restored so my son can claim his rightful throne as king of a New Order. I am half wolf-half warlock, and I was never a trickster, as Willow’s mother paints me out to be.”
“How can you help us?” Willow asked.
“We can help each other. Together we hold the keys to save all the realms and restore balance. Tomorrow, I will bring you Roger; you must catch the Raven Spirits when I release them and put them back where they belong.”
“And how do I do that?” Willow asked.
“You’ll figure it out. I have faith.” A flash of lightning destroyed the vision.
It also sent Willow and Gabe flying across the room.
Her back hit the headboard with a heavy thud. “Shit, that hurt.” She flopped on the mattress.
Gabe landed on the floor. He groaned. “That was totally unnecessary,” he said as he rubbed his ass. “I always thought werewolves were more badass over vampires. I might change my mind after what he just did to me.”
“I’ve come across his name before and something about him is familiar. But I can’t figure it out.”
“I agree. I feel like I know him. But if he’s working for Caleb and Roger, we’ve probably crossed paths with him, but I doubt he’d use the name Doyle Grove. That would give him away. But don’t forget, in my research, that woman, Gretta Wilson, she believed Doyle murdered Roger.”
“What else do we know about this Doyle guy?”
“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Gabe jumped to his feet and raced out of the bedroom.
Willow stretched, twisting her upper body. She rolled the name Doyle Grove around in her mind. Closing her eyes, she let memories of her parents flood her brain. They came in rapid-fire bursts flashing in front of her mind’s eye. A couple of times, she stopped, plucking one or two of the visions, only to file them so she could continue the search.
What she realized was that every single thing that had ever happened to her was stored in these little recording-type memories. Some were fuzzy and difficult to understand, but she could pluck out just about anything that happened in her life and relive it if she wanted to.
Interesting concept.
One she wished she knew about a while ago.
“What the hell?” Gabe’s voice pulled her out of her task.
She blinked her eyes open. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah. You’re making me dizzy with all that spinning and twirling of visions. It’s creepy.”
“You could see that?”
He climbed on the bed with his open laptop. “Yup. Though I suspect not in the kind of detail you could.”
“Good to know.” She filed everything away except for a few random images of her family home. “The only thing I found were the initials D.G. on a couple pieces of artwork in my parents’ old office.” She waved her hand, pulling up the picture. “We still have them hanging in the front room.”
“I remember those. If you stare at them long enough, things move around. It’s kind of weird.”
“My mom said if magic existed, it would be in those pictures.” She brushed her hair from her face. “If D.G. stands for Doyle Grove, maybe he painted the images and that’s where the spirits are supposed to go?”
“Could be. I’ll reach out to Brett and tell him to bring them,” Gabe said. “And unless you can think of a reason we shouldn’t have everyone in one place, I want to ask all your sisters and all my brothers to be here by four in the afternoon.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
“Glad we can agree on something.” He tapped on the keyboard. “I want to show you a couple of things.” He sat cross-legged on the bed.
She leaned over his strong shoulder and inhaled his fresh pine scent. A warm shiver started at her toes and made its way across her skin, up her spine, and tickled every muscle. In the short time he’d come back into her life, he’d proved he was on her side.
That he’d always been fighting the good fight.
Even when he wasn’t.
Something that she couldn’t say for herself.
“Look at this.” He tapped the screen. “Gretta wrote a series of articles about the Collective Order and Dimitri and his family. She wrote that Doyle killed Endrit, not Roger. I think that’s important just like it’s important that Riley changed her name from Claire.”
“So, what you’re saying is all these writings are lies to throw people off the track.”
“Not lies. They’re clues to help guide us to the final battle, which I’m guessing Doyle the smelly werewolf just told us about.” Gabe’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Gretta mentioned past souls being used to create illusions in order to bridge one order into the next.”
“The Collective Order and the New Order,” she said.
“Exactly.” He leaned in and kissed her nose. “Can you pull up those pieces of artwork for me?”
“Sure.” She wiggled her finger. Red and blue dust filled the room until the pictures formed on the far wall.
“Doesn’t that look just like the waterfront area here at Diamond Cottages? And those little blobs are people. I bet it’s those people who had all their powers and energy, both witch and psychic, that were given to Roger.
“But who are they?”
“Souls,” Gabe said matter-of-factly. “Souls of our ancestors and of our future.” He pointed to a particular spot in the vision. “That right there could be our son, Mateo.”
She moved closer to the image and it did look like a picture of her, Gabe, and the two children she saw earlier.
“Riley wrote in her book that there are new souls and reincarnated souls.”
“It makes sense that Doyle had to borrow from those souls to create the kind of magic to make Roger believe he had his psychic power back and had enough of it to steal from others.”
“That motherfucker.” Willow punched the bed. “Doyle used our children’s psychic energy and witchcraft powers to create Roger’s powers. Those visions we keep having are split. It’s not me choosing between one or the other. It’s us figuring out the riddle and helping Doyle put our kids’ souls back where they belong before it’s too late.”
Chapter 7
Gabe set his computer on the nightstand. “We don’t know that Doyle did th
at.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Willow sat cross-legged on the bed and fiddled with her hair, twisting it between her fingers, tugging over her shoulder.
Something she always did when she was not only deep in thought, but thoroughly frustrated.
He understood the sentiment.
“Doyle had to get the psychic energy and magic somewhere and it had to be authentic, so he borrowed it from unborn new souls, and he found ours and probably a few others. Maybe our nieces and nephews are in this mix as well.”
“I’m going to agree with that statement,” Gabe said. “The Collective Order’s energy is pure, and now we know it’s a perfect blend of witchcraft and psychic powers, pulling those two realms together. Using their abilities would give Roger the necessary talent to stay on this plane for as long as he has until we found each other so we can cast our children back where they belong.”
“Unless we fail.”
“We won’t,” Gabe said. “It all makes sense now.” Everything that he’d questioned, he no longer concerned himself with because he’d been groomed for one thing and one thing only.
To make sure he had the kind of power and the perseverance to ensure his children’s souls crossed back to the plane in which they belonged until it was their time to cross over to the next plane. “But I am concerned about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It seems there is something specific we need to do in order to harness all the souls Doyle used and get them back into the picture, because I believe it’s more than our children.”
He looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. All he ever wanted to do was love her and protect her while making a life with her that was filled with honor and respect, and more importantly, equality.
Willow was special in more ways than one.
“I think it’s all our nieces and nephews as well,” Gabe said.