Turning the Stone (The Blood Rites Trilogy Book 2)

by S. L. Perrine

  I have given birth to a girl and lost my husband all in the same day. He died of heart failure while racing to the hospital to be with us. I thought I was the older of us, but his body was frailer. Do I hold a curse of love as well? Will all the men who marry a Crawford come to the same fate? I dare not think of it.

  Instead, I will think of my Isabella. I will train her and love her. She will carry on when I am gone, and she will be my love.

  March 10, 1950

  I have changed my name. Seraphina Crawford is too well-known amongst my people. I must not be her any longer. I must be kinder and gentler, for my daughter, and for the legacy, I wish to leave. The voices hardly bother me anymore. I can feel the shift in power to my Isabella every day. When she turns eighteen she will take my place as the high priestess. Until then, I must teach her all that I know.

  October 29, 1965

  My daughter plays with fire. She wants nothing to do with her gifts, yet she runs around all day with a witch bolder than I. I dare say my good friend would not be happy to see what has become of his family name. Evil. That is what it means to be a Sigmis now. Silas is not good for my Isabella. He is dark. Something brews within him. Something I cannot put my finger on. I hope she sees the light.

  June 1973

  Married at long last. Isabella wed Alistair Nelson today. It was a lovely ceremony. He too is a witch. A wonderful blend of magic will be in their children. They will, of course, keep the Crawford name. It is our legacy. The women of this line will reign for eternity. I only hope being wed to a witch will lead her to want to take my place one day. As of her eighteenth birthday, she renounced magic. I don’t know what to do.

  December 12, 1977

  The love I have for my grandson is not in the slightest diminished by the love of the newly born baby girl. Although Gwendolyn will be the next in line after me, I do not love the other any less. Though my daughter may think otherwise.

  Chapter XXV

  Silas knew nothing of the belly blessing. He hadn’t even known there was such a thing. He’d laughed at first, but was quickly scolded. Gwen, Sabina, and Isabella all sneered at him.

  “I think it’s a fantastic idea, Sabina, thank you.” Gwen hugged her sister.

  “It was mother’s idea, missy, I’m just hosting it since she’s not well enough.”

  “But you will be there, won’t you?” Gwen asked her mother.

  “Of course, I will. The blessing takes far too much energy for me to perform. Besides, I don’t know how much could come from a non-practicing witch doing a blessing. No, it’s better if your sister calls the circle. It’ll be a gift from both of us.” She smiled at her daughters and Silas thought he caught a slight sneer on the face of Sabina before she jumped on her heels and smiled at her Gwen.

  “I even got the baby a gift.” She produced a fuzzy pink blanket. “You can have it after the blessing.”

  “Thank you. It’s adorable.”

  “A baby shower.” Silas finally understood.

  “Yes, but a bit different,” Gwen told him.

  “Okay, that I can get on board with.”

  The girls laughed at him. Of course, they would find it funny that a male had no idea about such things. Silas was just happy Gwen was thinking of something other than the impending vision. There was nothing more to do at the house to make sure they were prepared for when the fire vision would take place. It was nice to see her bonding over the baby with her family. Even if Silas had serious doubts about Sabina's happiness on the subject, but he wouldn't worry Gwen over it.

  Sabina had never been cordial to Silas. Not since the first time Gwen and he had been found out. Silas was pretty sure she was the one who revealed their whereabouts. Not to mention the whole Evelyn Delany business. Mortimer Delaney was not a stupid man. Silas couldn’t believe they thought there was even a slight chance that Evelyn could have stripped the title of high priestess from Gwen. Not unless they felt they had some sort of advantage.

  Even when Gwen and he left the coven, that would be her title. On the eighteenth birthday of their daughter, she will take the title and they would all return. Nothing could break them then. Silas just needed to keep them safe until that day came.

  “What are you guys doing in here?” Barnaby moved through the kitchen at breaking speed. “Mom, you should go upstairs. There’s a horde of crazies outside.”

  “A what?” Silas turned to the back window.

  What he saw made his blood run cold. A large group of men and women in black cloaks with their hoods drawn up over their heads, concealing their faces. Several had pitch forks and long wooden stakes in hand. Others were carrying lit torches.

  “Are they going to burn us alive?” Cinnabar rushed to the back door. He stood on the tips of his toes to see out into the yard.

  When the thick glass door opened, Silas could hear them all chanting, “Burn the witch.”

  “Yes, that exactly what they are going to do.” He reacted without thinking and took in the shock on the young boy’s face. “Sorry, Cinn. No, they’re just human’s being stupid.”

  Gwen’s face turned stark white. “What if that’s it? What if it’s just humans being human and ignorant?”

  “Then that, we can deal with.” Silas grabbed her hands. “You should take your mother upstairs. Sabina, go with them.”

  Alistair rushed in and took one look at his youngest daughter and pointed. “You,” he yelled across the room. “Look what you have done now. One time, we ask you to do one thing without disrupting the world. Hundreds of years we’ve lived without this happening. You go to the store for a couple of candles and we get a lynch mob on our back steps.”

  “What did I do?” she yelled back. All defiant and no fear or remorse in her face.

  That worried Silas, but no more than it worried the girl's father.

  “You take your little ass out there and fix what you’ve done. Figure out how to make this go away, and quickly,” the old man yelled at her again.

  Silas had never seen him so upset. His temper flared and his face had turned the darkest shade of crimson Silas had ever seen. If it were possible, he would have thought the man sprouted a couple dozen more patches of gray.

  “I most certainly will not. I don’t know how this is my fault.”

  “Oh, you don’t. Remember closing the throat of any store clerks lately?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. She told her parents who told the city council they have witches living amongst them. It’s only a matter of time before our Council hears of this, so you better go out there and handle it.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  “Careful, missy. You're not too big for an ass whoopin. Or better yet, maybe I’ll just hand deliver you to the Council myself.”

  “No. There is no need for that. I’ll handle this. As the high priestess, it is my responsibility to handle these matters.” Silas looked at Gwen. “The council will look to me to handle it before they make a trip anyway. She’s a Crawford,” was her answer to his continued glare.

  “Fine, but I’m going out there with you. So are you.” Silas pointed to Sabina.

  “Okay,” she said defensively.

  They moved out the back door. Silas first, just in case someone became overzealous and wanted to burn a witch on the doorstep. Gwen moved behind him. Her light sundress exposed the vast belly in front of her. They still had months yet, but she’d expanded rapidly. Silas wondered if their daughter would be born walking and talking.

  “There’s the little witch,” a man called from the crowd.

  “Gentlemen, name calling is not commendable. Not by any real standards of propriety,” Gwen said as she made her way to the other side of the large table and chairs on the patio. None moved too close to the house, but they enclosed the back of the building in a semicircle.

  “That witch cast a spell on my little girl.”

  “Are you speaking of the girl who claims she as well is a witch? The one that works in
a Wiccan novelty shop?”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  “No, I’m sure that is exactly the point. Does my sister look like a witch to you? She doesn’t, to me. Though your daughter wears black makeup, clothing, and pointy hats. Why should my sister be the one accused of casting spells?” She rubbed her hands over her belly.

  Silas made note of Chester’s appearance, as well as Marcus, though neither of them was in human form. On further inspection, he saw Hex and Finis as well. All four were tucked back into the woods, in case intervention was needed.

  “Because she choked my girl. Didn’t even have to touch her. That’s what makes her a witch,” the man yelled and the crowd roared in agreement.

  “Gentleman, ladies. Were any of you a witness to such an act?” She looked around for good measure then continued, “I suggest you chalk this up to a wild imagination. Even those burned in the Witch trials were never proven to be real witches with any magical abilities you speak of. It simply cannot be true. Now, you're trespassing. Unless you’re here for the farmers market.”

  They seemed to look around and consider her words. A simple case of an overactive imagination. Of course, Gwen would visit the girl in question and make her believe it as well.

  “How do we know that you’re telling the truth?” a woman in the crowd asked.

  Silas stepped forward. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

  “Now that we have that settled, would you please find your way quietly back to where you came from. My mother is very ill, and your presence here is unsettling.” Gwen had the final word and she turned to retreat back into the house.

  “She’ll slip up again. When she does, we will have the proof,” a woman screamed from behind her.

  Gwen moved her hand the slightest bit and a topiary in a large planter fell to the ground at the woman’s feet with a large gust of wind. She turned to look shocked at the sound of the plant falling over.

  “Oh, my. We should get that cleaned up. We wouldn’t want poor Hank to cut a paw on a broken planter.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s picked up, dear. In the meantime, you should go rest.” He looked to the crowd. “You shouldn’t be stressed in your condition.”

  She smiled back at Silas, obviously playing along. The woman in the crowd gasped and sucked her teeth, but the man standing next to her held her back. Turning the entire group off the property.

  When the crowd was gone, Silas retreated to the yard to clean up the fallen plant. Once he made it back inside Silas could hear raised voices coming from the parlor. Gwen was standing over Sabina who was sitting on the sofa.

  “How could you be so careless? Surely, you know there are still people in this world who would see us burned while tied to post in the middle of our own yard?”

  “Gwen, honey, please. The baby.” Isabella tried to reign in her daughter.

  As Silas grew closer, he could see the woman was not concerned for the baby, she was speaking about the power coming from the baby. Gwen’s emotions were magnified. Sabina had no chance against her sister and niece.

  Gwen ignored her mother’s protests. “From now on you will not leave this house unless you are supervised.”

  Silas spoke close to her ear, but loud enough the others could hear. “This is not you. You're tapping into the baby again.” She just gave him an angry glare.

  “Gwen, you can hardly expect…” Barnaby was cut off.

  “I can expect what I want. It is my final word on the matter. If she doesn’t like it, she can leave the Shadow.”

  “Now, Gwendolyn. That’s enough,” Alistair bellowed as the sky out in the front of the house-churned with her turmoil. The clouds grew dark and started to swirl in on themselves.

  “Father, this is not up to you.”

  “Gwen,” Silas tried to calm her. He slid his hand in hers, turned her and placed the other at her jaw. “Please, take a breath.”

  “Why is everyone so worried about Gwen? It’s always about Gwen. I’m the one getting shit on here.”

  Silas heard a defining slap. When he looked away from Gwen, he saw Sabina holding her face in her palm. Alistair stood over her. “I’ve had just about enough of you, young lady. You will watch your mouth.”

  Silas watched Sabina as she quietly stood. She put her hand down so everyone in the room could see the large man’s hand print across her face. A single tear fell from her eye above the welt that was quickly forming. She didn’t bother wiping it away. Instead, she waited for it to reach her lip and licked it from her skin.

  “Tastes like... disappointment.” She moved silently from the room.

  Silas felt nothing from her as she went. No emotions at all. She slipped from the room while her mother cried and begged for someone to go after her.

  The sky returned to normal, as did the color in Gwen’s eyes. Another circumstance they hadn’t foreseen. If the powers the baby possessed could consume her during pregnancy, would they consume their daughter? Would she be able to keep the voices away?

  Chapter XXVI

  Despite their altercation, Sabina still put together the shower she had planned for Gwen. Silas stepped into the clearing in the woods where they held circles. The altar was set up already, though the party did not start for a few hours. A large pentagram was drawn in the dirt. A small red candle sat outside the star, while small white candles were at each point. The altar was covered in wild flowers and sage. Lavender and flaxseed oil filled the silver chalice at the center of the altar, along with a large white pillar candle. A smaller blue one sat next to it.

  Silas made sure to research the ceremony before allowing Gwen to take part. She assured him she was safe with her sister. That their little spat was only one of many, but they remained close. As close as they’d always been the last few years.

  He knew the large white candle represented the mother, and the blue one was for the baby. Lighting the blue with the white joined the two together as one. A wish for the child from the mother’s lips as she lit the smaller of the two helped bless the birth. The other tools and supplies there must have been an addition from Isabella or Sabina. Most of the herbs and flowers were used for cleansing and protection. The pentagram gave the circle added protection during the blessing. The spirits of their ancestors would need to be invoked to bless the child. This gave them a place of protection to manifest.

  Silas did not know if he truly wanted his past family to bless his child. Gwen promised they were at peace. That they would want to make sure whatever plagued them in life would not continue on with their child.

  As the sun began to fall, the members of the four families arrived for the blessing. Evelyn stepped up behind Silas as he welcomed another to the party.

  “Ahem.” She cleared her throat violently.

  “Oh my, Evelyn. Are you feeling ok?”

  “I feel just fine, thank you.”

  “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want Gwen getting sick at a time like this.”

  Without another word, he turned to welcome the priestess of the House of Moon. The red-haired girl fascinated him. No one ever spoke to her, yet she still seemed to communicate with everyone around her. She was a petite thing, with a skittish way about her. Always looking scared, but he knew she was far from it. Silas stepped in front of her and the green of her eyes mesmerized him.

  “That’s how I do it.”

  “What?”

  “Speak to people, without talking. My eyes tell them to leave me be.”

  “Yet, you spoke to me.”

  “Yes. I happen to like you and the priestess. You don’t mix words. You’re not trying to blend in with the rest. I like that.”

  “Well then, welcome.”

  “Thank you,” she said awkwardly lifting a large box up to him. “I have a gift for the priestess.”

  “I’m sure whatever it is, Gwen will love it.”

  “Not Gwen.”

  “But...?”

  “We all have our gifts. I know she will one day
need these.” She lifted the lid of the box.

  Inside held the most exquisite collection of tools. A silver athame, the handle carved in an unusual design allowing the middle to be exposed. It looked similar to a whisk, yet the entwining metal was thicker and had Celtic properties. The blade was curvy on both sides and double edged. The chalice, also silver had Celtic markings as well. A book, that if Silas had opened he knew would have been blank inside. The cover held a purple butterfly complete with Celtic knots throughout the wings, and a skull with the same markings. The butterfly sat against the skull as if it were giving it a kiss. In the bottom of the black velvet lined box, there was also a wand. Thick wood, as wavy as the blade and etched with the same markings as it all.

  “These are wonderful.”

  “They were given to my father for safe keeping. My family has foreseen many things to come. This is when I am to give them to you. You must keep them in Spirit. She will find them when it is time. That is all I can say.”

  Silas looked down at the box as she closed the lid and placed it within his hands. The top had the same skull and butterfly. The black and purple weaved around it.

  “Thank you. I know where this comes from. It will mean a great deal to Gwen when she sees it.”

  “I’m glad I could be the messenger. I should go get my seat before Evelyn thinks she rules over two houses.” She gave a nod of her head, something Silas was not used to receiving so his in return was sloppy. She smiled and turned to the crowd gathering around the altar.

  “What was that all about?”

  Silas turned to see his wife clad in the white robe gifted to her by her mother, which was gifted to Isabella by Margaret. The purple entwined the hem and if he looked properly, he could see the small stitching of purple was the letter ‘S’ woven through the fabric over and over again.

  She’d been beautiful since the moment he saw her, but just then she glowed. Her beauty radiated around her. He lost himself as he took in her long raven hair, almost as dark as the night. It curled down to her waist, having been pulled in front of her to hang from the hood that covered her head. Her cheeks were flush with color. Her eyes glowed amber around the edges. Then she smiled.