I swallowed hard and glanced at the door again.
"Let's...."
My voice stuck in my throat as a bang rattled up from the basement.
"What the hell was that?" I squeaked.
"Shit," Shane whispered. "Don't move."
We listened with every bone in our bodies, and then the sound of footsteps on the tile floor sent my heart rate pounding.
"Fuck," he seethed through clenched teeth.
As if by instinct, he reached for the door and pushed it open.
"What are you doing?" I gasped.
"Come on. We can hide in here."
I shot a quick glance in the direction of the basement as I considered my options. Hiding didn't seem like a terrible one, considering the alternative would be facing one of the Kelly's with a lame explanation of why we were trespassing.
I followed him into the dark room, and he closed the door in slow, silent motion.
We crept to the far side, toward the old, stained glass windows and crouched behind a large oak desk.
Brown cardboard boxes lined the walls and any other open space, and I tried to make out other details as my eyes adjusted to the low light.
With my heart pounding in my ears, I prayed we wouldn't get caught. Suddenly, I had to pee worse than I'd ever had to in my life, and I closed my eyes to will it away.
Then the sound of a door opening caused me to nearly lose consciousness from fright, and the slam widened my eyes. I peered around the desk and looked at the closed door of our room, realizing it must have been the door to Minister Kelly's office instead.
I let the air whoosh out of me in slow motion as I recovered from the close call. Shane did the same.
"That was close," he whispered. "It must be one of them. We'll just have to wait it out. Once we hear the door slam again, we'll know they're leaving."
I sat on the floor to alleviate the pressure on my knees, and once I relaxed, the urgency to pee passed.
I glanced around the room at all the storage items. "It could be in any one of these boxes."
"Hmm? The spellbook?" he whispered. "Doubt it. It's far too valuable to be hidden so carelessly. I just don't think so."
"Then, where could it be?" I flinched with a nervous twitch.
He ignored me at first, and I flicked him on the knee. He didn't react and just kept staring at the space behind the desk.
I followed his frozen gaze and landed on a black iron ring hanging from the edge of a small door. The detailed door was ancient-looking, made of deeply-carved wood and weathered to a rich mahogany color. The size suggested it might be a crawl space, or a passageway leading to a hidden room—one considered important enough for such a stately entryway, but secret enough to be concealed in this tucked-away location.
He turned to me.
"Bingo."
Without hesitation, I reached for the iron handle on the small door. With a twist, it clunked in its hinges, and the door popped open. I turned back to Shane with wide eyes, and he nodded for me to continue.
"It must be the space behind the altar area," I guessed, judging by its location in the room, in relation to the rest of the building.
Shane lifted his finger to his mouth. "We have to be perfectly quiet. Whoever's in the office will hear the slightest thing. This church echoes like crazy."
"Come on," I whispered. "Follow me."
I slinked into the small doorway and pulled myself deeper into the alcove. My eyes adjusted to the darkness with help from streams of light that came from air vents above.
The space was about the size of a small bedroom, long and narrow, and the walls were bare exposed wood. Beams from the wall framing ran up and curved along the ceiling like the starting point of the buttresses.
Shane pulled up beside me, and we looked around at the array of boxes and trinkets.
"It's like my grandmother's attic," he murmured. "And just as creepy." He ran his finger across the top of a wooden chest, leaving a deep line in the thick dust.
"What do you think all this stuff is?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No clue. It's gotta be old church stuff, like antiques used from past services or old records. I bet some of it's pretty valuable."
My eyes widened. "Uh, ya. If there's stuff here from when, you know, back when the witch trials were happening, that would be so messed up."
"I heard they kept ledgers, with the names of those who were accused and executed." He glanced around. "They supposedly wrote summaries of the accusations and whatever else caused the hunts."
I swallowed hard. "I'm not sure I'd want to see that. Especially now that we know it's all bullshit."
"Yeah," he agreed. "I mean, we always knew it was bullshit, but you're right. Now that we've actually seen it in action at the Dawson homestead, and now we know some of the people targeted, it feels a hell of a lot different."
I stepped farther into the secret room and stopped by a large black trunk. Two large buckles ran over the top of it. I jiggled the bindings, wondering if it might open easily.
"Do you think Millie and Gertie's names could be in the ledgers?"
My eyes shut the minute I spoke the words. Saying them out loud made them real, assuring me that, in fact, their names were undoubtedly in the records.
Shane's head fell. "Not if we can help it."
"What do you mean? Are you talking about us changing the past?" I knew it was on our minds, but we just hadn't fully addressed it yet.
He shrugged.
So, it was true. Going back to save our friends had the power to change the past as well. We were dabbling in arts unknown and amid every crazy thing since moving to this town, this was the first one that had me frozen in fear.
I turned back to the trunk and pulled on the large leather straps. The brittle surface flaked away, like the leather starved to be oiled. The first strap caught firm in the brass buckle, but I wiggled it until it came loose. The buckle fell to the floor with a rattle, and we stood rigid, terrified we’d be found. We listened intently for any other sounds.
After a moment, Shane moved closer and loosened the second strap. He lowered it to the floor, and I prepared to lift the lid.
"Wait a sec, in case it creaks," he cautioned, slowing me with a wave of his hand.
I was dying to open it, barely able to breathe. But he was right, it would probably make some serious noise. We had to wait another minute at least.
My heart beat in my chest a hundred miles an hour. Waiting to see if the ledgers, or maybe even the spellbook were inside was too much for me to bare. I chewed the skin around my nails in anticipation.
Then, without being able to wait another moment, I pushed the lid up slowly. Shane grabbed on to the side and helped me ease it up. At the most open point, its hinges propped straight, and the top stood open on its own.
Stepping back slightly, we gazed into the darkness of the trunk, searching for any sign of books or binders, papers, or scrolls. I reached in and felt around, expecting to feel parchment of some variety, but instead felt a prickly, rough item. As I trailed my fingers along it, they followed the twisting braids of serpent-like cordage.
Wrapping my fingers around, I lifted a substantial length of it out of the box. Weight at the bottom of the thick rope swayed as I raised it higher.
A gasp shot out of my mouth before my hand had a chance to drop it.
Shane stared at the swaying knot that ticked back and forth like the pendulum of a clock.
Like the passing of time. The passing of life. The noose swung in its newfound freedom, sending a shock of terror through me.
I dropped it like it was a venomous snake and jumped back with a start.
"Shit!" I stared into the darkness of the crate with wide eyes.
"What the fuck?" Shane seethed, leaning in for a better look. "Why would anyone keep that thing?"
Panting, I fought to catch my breath to ease my dizziness. I stumbled to the side of the trunk and set my eyes on an old wooden chair behind it. I reach
ed for the arm of the chair, and as I lowered myself onto the seat, I bounced up from the poke of the edge of something hard.
Spinning around, I reached for the object on the chair, and my hands moved around its familiar edges. With a gasp, I lifted it, sat in its place, and held it safely in my lap.
"Shane," I exhaled my shaky breath. "I found it."
Chapter 6
We scrambled into the beam of light from the air vent and sat cross-legged with the box between us. Shane's knees touched mine as we created a connected circle of energy. The intensity of the moment felt like it would send sparks onto the relics in the secret room. But instead, we focused our concentration directly on the box and allowed our force to channel straight to it.
"Do you hear that hum?" I whispered.
"Yeah. I assumed it was my heart pounding in my ears." Shane shot an uncertain grin at me.
"The pitch is growing higher by the second." I listened to it for another moment and then reached for the box.
The familiar blade hung from the side by its stiff leather cord. I grasped the wooden handle and wedged the knife into the seal of the box. Prying it open, I hesitated and glanced up at Shane.
He blinked from the unexpected pause. "What?"
I swallowed hard. "Are we doing this?" I breathed. "I feel like something big is about to happen, like there's a warning buzzing all around us."
His eyes moved around the room as if checking that we were still alone.
"My adrenaline is through the roof. I can't even think straight anymore, let alone decide if we should be doing this," he huffed. "But this is what we came to do, so I'm prepared to keep going."
I nodded blankly and looked back at the box. The constant hum around us made the container appear to be vibrating. I half-expected lightning bolts to blast out of it as soon as the lid was released.
With shaking hands, I continued to jimmy the lid with the blade until it finally cracked open. The sound of the wood breaking away from its seal made it seem like it hadn't opened for centuries. The reminiscent guilt of violating a grave washed over me again, just like when we had unearthed the abandoned root cellar in the woods with Ms. Kelly.
There was a sensation of a higher power radiating from the box as if it were cursed. Every nerve in my body responded to it, wanting to close it tight again and leave it alone for another few centuries.
But my curiosity pushed me further, and Shane's bated breath proved he felt the same.
Using the blade around the four edges of the box, I loosened it completely and lifted it off.
We stared in at the magnificent leather-bound book of spells.
Speechless, our breath shot in and out of us as we considered the power the book held and the endless possibilities.
"What do we do now?" Shane whispered.
I reached for the ancient book and removed it from the box. Shane replaced the lid on the container, and I positioned the spellbook on top of it. We slid around to one side, hip to hip, and turned the text to face us.
"There's a page where I saw a drawing of the portal. It looked exactly like the wooden hut, and it had rays of light shooting out of it." I started to open the cover, hopeful of finding the same sketches.
"Wait." Shane reached for my hand to stop me.
I looked up into his eyes and searched through the fear that radiated from them.
"What is it?"
He blinked slowly and bent his head back. Looking at me again, he said, "I just don't want anything to change between us." He paused. "It feels like, like we're about to... I don't know." He ran his hands back through his hair.
"Like we're about to learn things better left unknown?" I murmured. "Like we're about to gain the knowledge necessary to change what has happened?"
I knew he was right. We were on the verge of a discovery that could change everything.
Including us.
But I had to trust my heart on this one. I had to believe that the depth of my feelings for Shane was stronger than any of this. Our connection was what made any of this possible.
"I don't want anything to change either." My voice squeaked through a tight throat, betraying my emotions.
Then a tear stung at my eyes as I watched deep worry move across his face.
I reached for him and trailed my fingertips along his jaw. Deep sorrow crushed my heart, making me feel like my chest was caving in.
In an instant, his hands ran into my hair, pulling me into him.
With desperation that spanned centuries, he kissed me like it was our last. Tears streamed from my eyes as I kissed him with equal intensity, absorbing every part of him into my soul. Starving for each other, we kissed more deeply with a passion that shattered my mind to pieces.
My hands moved over his body, searching for connection with every part of him, and I reached under his sweatshirt, eager to make contact with his warm skin. As my hands trailed across his muscular stomach and up over his strong chest, he let out a whimper that sent me higher.
His mouth moved on mine with a hunger that grew by the second. I trailed my hands around his back and tingled from the sweat that beaded from his skin.
"Brynn," he whispered as his mouth moved along my neck. "I want you so bad." He nuzzled his face into my hair as his hands moved down my body.
He ran his fingers along the sides of my breasts and then across the curves of my hips. He shuddered as he pressed himself against me, lowering me onto the floor with his weight. With his hand behind my head, he laid me down and wedged his hips between my legs.
His heavy breath filled my ears, allowing for nothing else to be felt except him. Without hesitation, my legs wrapped around him as naturally as anything, and I pulled him into me.
He pressed his hips into me as he kissed me again, this time with a level of passion that heated me to near exploding.
"Oh my God," I whispered, unable to contain myself from the heightened feelings of being so close to him. "Shane."
The sound of his name off my lips lifted his head, and he hovered over me. Panting, he gazed at my face with the look of an angel.
Then a new expression crossed his face, one of frustration or even pain.
I huffed through my racing breath. "What's wrong?"
He hesitated as if struggling to understand the sensations around him.
"I don't know. It's like there's a wall I can't get past." He shook his head in confusion. "It's like something's stopping me, holding me back."
His words annoyed me, and I pulled him closer. "No."
I didn't want this moment to end. Being close to him was the only thing that mattered, and every part of my body ached to be touched by him.
I reached for the neck of his hoodie and pulled him closer. "I want more of you," I begged.
He brushed his lips over mine. "Oh, believe me, I want you more than anything. I can't think straight whenever I'm around you. Jesus." He pushed his hair off his forehead. "But I want it to be right. I don't want to fuck anything up."
"You won't," I breathed into his ear. "Please."
He stroked the side of my face. "Something's not right, Brynn. It feels like I'm not myself. Like part of me keeps fading as I try to get close to you." He glanced back at the book. "I can't help but think the answer is in that."
Something had spooked Shane. He couldn't pull his eyes from the spellbook even though his body still screamed to be with me.
He stood and reached for my hand. Pulling me up, he wrapped his arms around me and held tight.
"You feel amazing," he whispered into my hair. "I'll never be able to get enough of you."
I smiled and moved my lips across his neck. "Same," I murmured.
Tightening his grasp of my hand, he led me toward the book.
"There's something in it that explains why I feel this way." He ran his fingers over the cover. "Why do I feel so... blocked. It's like I have all the sensations and feel all the emotions, but then I can’t actually act on them. Like something's missing."
&n
bsp; I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but I could tell it was very real for him. He'd experienced so much, even as a young boy at the woods with Tommy—I was sure he'd been traumatized. And finding out more about his condition would hopefully help to move us forward.
"Let's look inside," I encouraged him. "If it can explain anything about this, or any of the other things going on, then it will be worth it."
He glanced at me, then nodded.
I lifted the book out of its protective box, and we sat together on the floor. Placing the book in front of us, I opened the cover, exploring the first hand-written, faded page.
Watermarks and torn edges scarred the pages within. Some worn pages were worse than others, but considering the book's significant age, it was no wonder.
Handling it with gentle care, we turned through the first several pages. Sketches of leaves and flowers filled the beginning, along with recipes and step-by-step instructions for creating elixirs and potions.
We leafed our way through into a new section of chants and incantations. Pictures of flaming candles and shining crystals filled the pages.
"That looks like the type of altar Ms. Harrison was talking about." I pointed to a drawing of a scene where the only thing missing, in my opinion, was a Ouija board.
"We should actually try setting one of those up. We have the candles and the crystals." He looked more closely at the illustration. "Looks like we just need the proper spell to chant and voila." He smirked.
"What would we even try to conjure, though? We'd probably invite a demon into the room and have no idea how to manage it," I half-laughed.
"True. We need to figure out what we're doing first," he agreed. "Then, we can get to the conjuring."
I rolled my eyes, but inside I was dying to give some of this a try.
We flipped through the pages toward the middle of the book.
"Ooh, look." I pointed to what looked like a zombie. "The walking dead."
It seemed funny at first, but then my eyes widened from the reality of it all. There were spells and incantations for raising the dead—necromancers and ghostly apparitions.
"What the hell is all this?" Shane leaned in closer to examine the pictures. "Look. Wolves and hell hounds. Just like what we've seen." He tapped on a sketch. "This one's half-man half-wolf."
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