Born of Shadows- Complete Series

by J. R. Erickson

  ****

  "We've got this place all to ourselves," Abby told Baboon, scratching his neck as he stretched out on the couch beside her. She had looked forward to the day alone, but suddenly felt overwhelmed. The wedding was fast approaching and the curse still hung over them like a dark stormy cloud, threatening to not only ruin their wedding day, but their entire lives.

  She knew that Oliver had gone to Chicago to try and get a sense of whether Victor or Kendra had stolen the amulet. It made her uneasy and she fought the desire to call Oliver and get a progress update. She wanted to believe that Victor could not have stolen the amulet. However, she found it impossible to believe that Kendra would have taken the necklace. Kendra wasn't invested the way Victor was. He had a blood link to Kanti, as Abby herself did. Victor had also approached Abby at the All Hallow's Ball. He initiated their contact at the urging of Kanti, and had been dreaming of her for years. Could she have gotten to him, somehow?

  "Bath time?" she asked Baboon, who responded in typical cat fashion with silence.

  She stopped in the nursery and touched the mobile of white paper birds, watching them sway lazily in the morning sun. She and Sebastian had searched the house when they returned to Australia to make sure nothing was amiss. It was not vandals that Abby worried about, but the spirit of Kanti who'd come into their home previously.

  Abby ran the bath scalding hot and poured bath salts and lavender oil into the water. She watched the oils swirl and dance. Holding her hand above the surface, she invited the water to her. A stream rose out of the bathtub and bathed her hands and wrists in steaming warmth. As she watched, the oils started to form a strange shape. She leaned closer and then quickly jerked upright as a face appeared in the water. Kanti's dark, pleading eyes stared back at her and her mouth opened in a huge, terrified scream. Abby stumbled back and her hips bumped the vanity. She started to flee, but the face had vanished. A ripple of water was the only evidence that the face had ever existed.

  Abby watched the water for several minutes and then leaned over the tub and pulled the plug. Did she want Kanti to reappear? A part of her did. A part of her wanted the woman, the girl, to speak to her.

  "Tell me what you want," she whispered, as the bath drained, leaving an oily sheen on the porcelain bottom.

  Sun streamed through the window and lit their bedroom. Abby gazed at Lake Michigan, trying to puzzle together what the dreams and the visions meant. The latest Kanti dreams had left her feeling scared and hurt for the young Native American woman. She had been tortured and now she wanted, what? Justice? Revenge?

  "I don't know," Abby whispered. She sat on the edge of the bed and then lay back. It was so soft. Indulgent, Sebastian called it. She closed her eyes and Kanti stole into her dreams.

  Kanti lay on the floor of the cabin, her pregnant belly rose and fell in rapid bursts. She tried to slow her breath, conserve it, as the fire consumed the cabin. The flames rose up the wall, destroying everything in their path. Smoke had begun to fill the single room. Bound at hands and feet, she could not escape. Would he finally kill her this time? Or was it merely another in his sick games where he brought her to the edge of death and then ripped her back, stealing even the hope of that release.

  Abby gasped and sat up in bed. Her heart pounded and her mouth felt paper dry as if she'd been screaming. The sun had lowered in the sky and the light in the room had the orange glow of the impending sunset. Her bedside clock read 7:04 p.m. Sebastian would return anytime. His flight was supposed to arrive in Trager at six thirty pm.

  Abby shuffled out of bed and glanced in the mirror. A pale, troubled face looked back at her. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and slipped on a clean t-shirt and linen pants, discarding her sweaty clothes in the hamper.

  In the kitchen, she set about warming up leftover turkey chili for her and Sebastian. He would be hungry after his flight and she wanted something to busy her shaking hands.

  She thought about the dream and recalled the sheer panic that Kanti felt as the cabin filled with fire. The dream reminded her of the experiences both Kendra and Julian had described during the bone magic in Chicago months earlier. In fact, the previous dreams of being buried alive and burned also mimicked sensations the witches recalled after Dante performed the magic.

  "Whoa, she's a water goddess and she cooks? I better marry that girl!"

  Abby dropped the metal spoon in her hand and it clattered against the tile floor.

  "You scared me!" she declared, placing a hand over her heart.

  Sebastian retrieved her spoon and kissed her, giving her a long hug.

  "I'm sorry, beautiful. I brought you something. Do you forgive me?" He gave her a pleading look, jutting out his lower lip and whipping a small brown paper bag from his coat.

  She smiled.

  "So long as you have chocolate in that bag."

  "Have you developed mind-reading abilities?" he asked, as she pulled open the paper and discovered a package of dark chocolate storks.

  "Storks!" she opened them and took a bite, passing one to Sebastian. The chocolate tasted dark and sweet with a hint of nutmeg. She sat at the counter and closed her eyes.

  "The airport in Texas had a baby store. Those seemed fitting."

  "Mmmm, thank you," she murmured. "Tell me about Jack."

  Sebastian scooped them each a bowl of chili and took a seat next to her.

  "He was an interesting guy. He's been tracking Kanti since he dug up her bones fifty years ago."

  "And he's actually had luck?"

  "Some," Sebastian explained. "He discovered that she was part of an Algonquian tribe, and just as your dreams have revealed, she was taken by a huge man wearing furs. That man apparently worked for Clyde, at least we assume it was Clyde. Jack only knew him as the 'white man.' Jack had his own theory about the curse."

  "He knew about the curse?" Abby asked, surprised. "Ouch!" she yelped. "Burned my tongue." She pointed at her chili.

  He handed her a glass of water.

  "Sort of. A strange woman approached him at a diner. She told him that Kanti cursed her own child and if he wasn't careful, the bad blood would somehow get into his family."

  Abby frowned.

  "That's weird."

  "Yeah, though he didn't think it was that strange. Anyway, he believes Kanti cursed her child as a result of her own trauma, maybe even accidentally, and she continues to relive the trauma each time the curse resurfaces."

  Abby thought about her dream and nodded. The level of fear alone would create a powerful energy around the baby that she was carrying. Abby had learned so much about how a child's development was influenced by the experiences in utero. If Kanti spent her entire pregnancy in a state of terror, how would that manifest in a child, especially when the mother was magic?

  Chapter 24

  The sprawling Montana farm occupied a mountain valley, lush with wildflowers. Beautiful silver and chestnut horses grazed in the paddock and small children chased a group of hens through an open barn door.

  "It reminds me of America when I first came here," Elda murmured to Julian as he parked the car in the circular dirt driveway.

  "Yes, a sweeter time. Though we both fled some pretty terrible experiences so I'm sure we were biased."

  Elda nodded, but did not speak.

  Both she and Julian had come to America and Ula after their own homes were destroyed. Though Vepars were their enemies in those days, the bigger enemies were civil war, famine, and desperation.

  Several white farmhouses were scattered across the property surrounded by barns, stables, and gardens.

  A woman walked from the main farmhouse door. The screen swung shut behind her and she waved a hand.

  Elda recognized her from the cave of elders, though she had replaced her black cloak with worn jeans and a man's button-down shirt. Her white hair hung in a braid over her shoulder.

  "Ellen," Elda said kindly, taking the other witch's hands in her own. They were soft and warm and Elda felt a tug at her heart
. She could smell cinnamon and apples, and a bit of flour dotted the woman's right cheek.

  "Lovely to meet you in the physical world, Elda," Ellen told her.

  "Julian," Julian offered, extending his hand. The woman took it, but rather than let go, she held his hand and took Elda's as well, leading them toward the house.

  "Nora's having an especially lucid day. It's a good time for a visit."

  Ellen led them through the foyer and down a hallway. She knocked twice and then pushed into a large sunlit room that overlooked a garden of sunflowers. A witch sat in a wheelchair next to the window. She wore a long gray robe. Her thin dark hair was streaked silver and white.

  She turned as the door opened and watched them through startlingly clear amber eyes.

  "I think I've waited my whole life for you to show up," she told them in a soft voice that likely had once been strong and booming. Even in her wheelchair, aged and shrinking, she had a presence.

  Ellen gestured toward two wicker chairs and a small table set with coffee and apple muffins.

  "If you need anything, don't hesitate. Just touch that little jade frog and I'll come a'running."

  Elda smiled at the little green frog perched on the windowsill.

  "Thank you, Ellen," Nora told her.

  Ellen nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  "I'm not sure where to begin," Elda told her, settling into a chair.

  "I would like to begin, if you don't mind?" Nora said, shifting her wheelchair to face them full on. "Does Clyde live?"

  Elda glanced at Julian, surprised.

  "I would imagine not," Julian told her. "He was a man, after all, a hybrid yes, but he was born more than three hundred years ago."

  Nora shook her head and took in a swift, frustrated breath.

  "Then already you underestimate him."

  "That's why we're here, Nora. We've only just learned of him. We need your help."

  Nora watched them closely. She held a beautiful pink rosary that she braided through her fingers.

  "I'm disappointed, I must admit. When Ellen came to me with witches seeking information on the Serpent House, I knew that Clyde lay at the heart of those inquiries. He destroyed it, after all."

  "He destroyed your coven?" Julian asked, surprised.

  Nora nodded and returned her gaze to the window. A small girl with dark pigtails walked among the rows of sunflowers.

  "Rosemary," Nora told them. "My kin, she shares my spirit, you know? We are co-conspirators always tricking the goats."

  Nora rapped on the glass and Rosemary look up. She offered a huge smile, short one front tooth, and held up a hen feather.

  "I saw this life when I was just a girl. But I believed this family would belong to myself and Eugene. He was my great love. Even after all these years, decades, centuries, I still remember the first moment I saw him."

  Julian had learned of Eugene from Binda in Australia. Eugene was the brother that Clyde murdered.

  "I was sixteen, new to my powers, but not to the world of magic. I was born in Serpent House. My great-grandfather built it. We were a small coven, eight total, with several witches who lived on the mainland and joined us from time to time. Meghan was one of those witches. She brought Eugene to the coven when he was nineteen. He had been exhibiting powers for several years, but she wanted to teach him on her own without the influence of a coven. She felt it was time for him to learn the ways of our magical world. I remember running down the grand staircase. I had frozen the water in my glass and I was proud to bursting. I raced into my grandfather's study and there he stood with Eugene."

  Nora paused and lifted a glass of water to her lips. She took a sip and then watched the water until it froze.

  "It still amazes me." She smiled. "He stood next to my grandfather, shoulder to shoulder, reading a map of some sort. His dark hair fell into his eyes and when he looked up, my heart stopped. The ice melted. The second our eyes met, that ice returned to water. He melted me."

  Nora's words had grown slower, more drawn out and Elda wondered if she might be slipping away.

  Julian too noticed the digression and stood quickly.

  "Here Nora, hold this. It will help."

  He handed her a large purple stone.

  "Fluorite," she said. "Yes, very helpful, I think."

  She lifted it to her forehead and held it there.

  "It was like I woke up when I met Eugene," Nora told them, her golden eyes troubled and sad. "He had long, silky black hair pulled in a neat ponytail, and a smile that just about ripped me in two. I was young and idealistic. And the moment I saw him, I knew. He looked at me and it was like we'd always known each other. We were nearly inseparable after that day. Eugene was a special kind of witch. Strong, but soft and humble. He didn't have an ounce of malice or hatred in his being. Sometimes I think that's what killed him. Even in the end, he had faith in his brother. He believed that Clyde, at his core, was a good man. He used to tell me that Clyde had been dealt a hand that any man would struggle to cope with. A magical older brother with the world at his fingertips, when he himself was ill and picked on, an outcast. Clyde was not handsome or funny or kind. Eugene was all of those things and so much more. Meghan adored Eugene. I think our relationship hurt her. She didn't want to lose her spectacular child."

  "Tell us about Clyde," Julian urged.

  "Clyde was a sickly and sullen child. Nose always stuffed in a book, red eyes, and pale puffy skin. The kids at school poked fun at him. Eugene told me they called him Small Pox, the usual kid stuff. For a boy who looked ill, it was not a surprise. The challenge was that his mother was a witch and his father was a man. It was Meghan who wanted to live normally, but when Eugene started exhibiting powers, magic became a much larger part of their lives. Meghan was entranced by her magical son, doted on him, and Clyde was always second, always less. Meghan and Eugene went on adventures and Clyde stayed behind. Clyde became obsessed with magic and power. He hoarded and stole books and texts from the church, from Indian tribes. He badgered Eugen constantly for information about Serpent House, about witches, and also about Vepars."

  "Where was their father in all of this?" Elda asked.

  "Drunk, according to Eugene. Meghan tried to help him, performed every piece of magic she could to cure him of the disease, but he was a broken man. He had never been much of a father. He disappeared for weeks at a time and Meghan would search for him. One day, while she and Eugene were away at Serpent House, Clyde went looking for him. He found him dead in the woods."

  "From alcohol?"

  "Perhaps," Nora said. "Eugene thought so, but I had met Clyde and I had my misgivings. He had such darkness in him, hatred even. I wondered if he had a hand in his father's death."

  "And then he murdered Eugene?" Julian asked.

  Nora pursed her lips and looked again at the sunflowers beyond her window.

  "We were due to be married that autumn. Our whole lives stretched out like a glorious dream that you never have to wake up from. A celebration was planned at Serpent House. It was my eighteenth birthday. Eugene never arrived. Meghan appeared around midnight, frantic. Eugene had left early that morning to purchase a gift for me, but did not return. When she learned he had never arrived at Serpent House, terror took over."

  "Why such an extreme reaction?"

  "Because Meghan knew. I was so young and naive that I didn't recognize it at the time. The face of a mother who has lost a child. It had not been confirmed, but she felt it. She knew in her heart he had passed. We went to the shore, all the witches of Serpent House. We combed the town and then the woods. My grandfather found him, staked to the ground, tortured." Her voice broke and she held the rosary to her lips.

  ****

  Oliver knew it was the wrong time to ask his questions. He and Ezra lay in her bed at the loft. She had curled away from him, but he wrapped his body around hers and kissed her shoulder.

  "How did you end up here, Ezra? With the Guerrilla Witches?"
r />   Oliver felt Ezra shrug beneath him.

  "Victor found me."

  "How, though? I mean, at Ula we follow bloodlines."

  "He told me that he had a feeling when he saw me. He sensed that I was a witch. He didn't come right out and ask me. He tested me."

  "How?"

  "Isn't this time for sleep or a shower? Are you always this inquisitive after sex?"

  "Absolutely." He nuzzled the back of her neck and she laughed, twisting away from him.

  "You're tickling me," she said. "And my knee-jerk reaction to tickling is to immobilize you."

  He grinned.

  "Okay, no more tickling, I promise. How did he test you?"

  Ezra turned to look at him, studying his face.

  Oliver thought she would refuse to answer and demand to know why he had so many questions.

  "I was an emergency room nurse and Victor brought in a lost cause. She was young, only fifteen, and had overdosed on heroin. The drug that I hate most in this world. In human hands she was dead."

  "But you saved her."

  "I saved her."

  "And afterward he approached you and said he was a witch too?"

  "Sort of. He said he had friends that were special. And did I want to meet them?"

  "That was Kendra and the others?"

  "Actually no, they were witches from down south. They didn't even tell me their names. Victor joined them at this huge abandoned warehouse in West Town. They were doing crazy stuff. Flying, making things explode with their minds, causing thunderstorms inside the building. I watched Victor drill a hole through three floors above us with his mind, rocked my world. I didn't know what witches were, but I knew I was one of them. It was the first time I ever felt included, known."

  "And you've been with him ever since?"

  "Yep, I was the first of the Guerrillas. Victor and I envisioned the group together one night, high on espresso and our own magic. I was so excited for the future, the world we could create."

  "You sound disappointed in that dream? Has it not lived up to your expectations?"

  "There are a lot of distractions in this life. Witches don't always get to do good all the time. Many of the problems that face humans, face us too."