by Pat Esden
Gar turned to Devlin. “My plan is to ask the Council for more time to finish my investigation. If Chloe comes with me, it’ll be one more thing I have to explain. Not to mention that the Vice-Chancellor will be there.”
Chloe stiffened at the mention of the Vice-Chancellor. It was the lowest blow Gar could have dealt her, but Em agreed that it was an important point to bring up. Five years ago, when Chloe was sixteen, the Vice-Chancellor and his wife hired her as a babysitter. That night, because of Chloe’s carelessness, their son had fallen into a pool and nearly drowned. But that wasn’t the end of it. The near-drowning had left the boy brain damaged and in an essentially vegetative state. The Vice-Chancellor and his wife hated Chloe. But the tragedy had left Chloe determined to find a cure for the boy. It was a large part of why she wanted to go to medical school, and the Northern Circle’s interest in exploring ancient cures had enticed her into joining.
“I’m very aware the Vice-Chancellor is likely to be there.” Chloe lifted her chin. “But I’m done hiding from my past. No one ever accomplishes anything by doing that.”
Em admired Chloe’s determination and wished she could agree with her philosophy. It wasn’t so much that she disagreed, but avoiding the past was one of Em’s top priorities, especially when it applied to Violet Grace.
Midas stepped forward. “Won’t it look strange if no one from the coven goes to the meeting to object to this sketchy investigation?” His eyes narrowed on Gar. “If you don’t talk them into an extension, it’s all over for us. We get disbanded. The Council takes ownership of the complex. They strip Devlin of his magic. Isn’t that the general gist?”
“It doesn’t necessarily happen like that. The Circle can file an objection, draw it out longer.”
“How long?” Chandler said. “A week? A month? I’ve lived here since before Athena became high priestess. My business is here. This is the only home my son has ever known.”
Devlin spoke up, silencing everyone. “If Gar says he can buy us time, then that’s what we need to focus on. I also agree with Chloe. She needs to go to headquarters, so we can get proof against Rhianna.” His dimples showed as a devious smile crossed his lips. “I also know how to get Chloe inside without raising suspicion. Legally—as the Northern Circle’s high priest—I have the right to attend any meeting or hearing involving the coven. With Athena gone, the coven is currently without a high priestess, but if we had one…” He quirked an eyebrow meaningfully and let his voice trail off.
Gar tilted his head. “That’s not a half-bad idea.”
“Are you suggesting that the coven name me its new high priestess?” Chloe smiled tentatively, a grin slowly growing.
“Temporarily,” Devlin clarified. “We do need a new one. But the position involves a lot more than overseeing rituals. Athena ran the complex. She oversaw our businesses and charitable works. I’m not sure a permanent commitment of that kind would mesh with your med school plans.”
Brooklyn raised her hand. “I vote Chloe for high priestess.”
“I second it,” Midas said.
Devlin’s attention went back to Gar. “One more thing: I’ll be going to your meeting. If anyone is going to defend the Circle, it’s going to be me. And if something goes wrong, I can hold my own in a fight.”
Gar frowned, but then relented. “All right. On one condition. You let me talk first. If the Council grants us an extension, you’ll say thank you and walk away. If things go bad, then you can have your say. Remember, though, the Council are powerful witches, you don’t want to piss any of them off.”
“Gar, I’m not a fool. I’ve heard stories about their ideas of just punishment, like Roger ‘Armless’ Long.”
“Armless, among others.” Gar’s gaze flicked to Em, as if hinting that she was somehow related to the discussion.
She looked away from him, pushing that thought aside. No. She’d misinterpreted the gesture. Undoubtedly, he’d simply noticed her silence and was trying to draw her into the conversation. And she did have something to add, something that would most likely lead to a resounding “no” from everyone.
Chandler and Brooklyn made a couple of suggestions. Midas offered to loan Devlin and Gar a stash of techno-magic gizmos he’d designed, which did everything from opening locks to making a car’s electronic footprint untraceable.
Em rubbed her arms, studying everyone. She wanted the coven to succeed. More than that, she didn’t want to lose her sanctuary. She truly believed that deep down inside, Gar was on their side—especially hers.
Finally, she lifted her chin like Chloe had, though Chloe’s proud, willowy height had made the move more impressive. She raised her voice. “I’m going to headquarters, too.”
Everyone stared at her.
“Definitely not,” Gar said.
Devlin nodded. “There’s no need or reason for that.”
Em stayed firm. “You can use me to present evidence at the meeting if need be, for the coven’s defense. I may be a recovering drunk. I’ve done drugs and lived on the streets. I’ve made bad choices. But no one—not even the High Council—will question my abilities as a medium. I can call Athena once we get there. I’m assuming the Council allows the dead as witnesses?”
“They do.” Gar grimaced. “But only fully manifested spirits—which is the problem, since Athena has only appeared as an orb.”
Confidence pounded into Em’s veins. She grinned. “I’m not convinced that getting her to materialize at headquarters is an impossibility. Even if I can’t contact her, I might be able to reach Saille. The tug-of-war is affecting both their spirits. If its source is at headquarters—like the crystal is—then I’ll be able use the spirits to locate it. If we could disrupt the tug-of-war even for a few minutes, it should allow them to manifest fully.”
Gar’s gaze reached into hers, telegraphing his worry. Em sent a wave of soothing energy out to him. She had to do this. It was their best chance.
“This problem isn’t just the tug-of-war,” Devlin added. “We don’t know who is in league with Rhianna. This could get dangerous.”
Em steadied her voice. “I can’t shoot energy balls like you and Chloe”—she glanced at Gar—“or do whatever you can do. But I can hold my own. Spirits listen to me.”
The vibration of her phone hummed against her leg. She froze, her pulse skittering in a million directions. It had to be her therapist. Anyone else who might call was here. But why was she calling again?
“Shouldn’t you get that?” Gar said, his voice tense.
Em’s mouth dried. She slid her phone from her pocket. “Hello?”
“Em?” Her therapist’s voice was quiet—too quiet.
“Is everything all right?”
“I’m afraid I have more bad news.” She hesitated. “Your aunt showed up at the halfway house.”
Numbness shot straight to Em’s core. She turned away from the group, walking stiffly to the teahouse door and outside. As the therapist explained what had happened, she gazed down at her shoes, seeing small feet, swollen and red from the tattooist’s needles. When the therapist finished telling her the news, she dropped the phone into her pocket, too dazed to say a word.
Family is forever.
Chapter 14
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS: Two Hours of Spirit Messages for the audience from Violet Grace, the World’s Youngest Psychic Medium. $65 (includes admission to Horizon’s Annual Expo!) September 28, 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. Goodnight Inn & Suites. 4390 Pleasant Pkwy. Real intuitive guidance. Healing. Astounding.
—Coming Events: Bay State Community Gazetteer
Family is forever. The words thundered in Em’s head as she quickly walked away from the teahouse. When she got to the path that led to Devlin’s apartment, she veered down it and began to jog. She needed to get away. To be by herself.
She sprinted past his apartment to the woodland trail that led to the ed
ge of the coven’s property. Her breath came in short pants. Her magic roiled inside her, a tempest of fear and anger.
A minute later, she reached the coven’s back gate. The gate and accompanying chain-link fence were bespelled to keep outsiders from entering, but Devlin, Chloe, and even Rhianna could get through with a simple command.
Em drew up her magic and flung it at the gate. “Open.”
To her surprise, the gate did as she asked. She ran through, and it swung shut behind her. Oakledge Park and the lake were just ahead. The perfect place to be alone. When she reached the park, the first thing she came to was the circle of standing stones where they’d held the ritual that woke Merlin’s Shade and allowed him to escape from the otherworld. Under the late afternoon sky, the stones stood shadowless. Beyond them, the deserted lake stretched, steel-gray and grim.
She gritted her teeth, blocking out the hammer of her therapist’s words, focusing instead on stones and the horrifying memories of that night: Chloe offering her blood to protect her friend Keshari. The surreal moment when Chloe disappeared into one of the stones. The unbearable moments that elapsed before she returned. Later, Athena taking off her human-skin choker to reveal that she was really Rhianna. The blood. The battle. The screams and exploding energy balls, her summoning orbs to come to their aid.
Em clamped her eyes shut, overcome by anguish and remorse from the fool’s part she’d played in the events. She’d never known the real Athena, so she had no one to compare to the person she’d met. Still, she’d suspected something was wrong. But the lure of a comfortable place to live—clean sheets, soft pillows, quiet hallways that smelled of lavender and sage, good food whenever she wanted—had made her push aside her intuition’s subtle warnings and ignore the similarities between Athena’s actions and the brainwashing ploys her aunt had used. There were the required robes, of course. But there were other things. Baths without privacy. Kindness and empathy mixed with isolation and shaming. Long, hypnotic rituals. She hadn’t drunk the wine or the strange-smelling teas she’d been offered, but they’d been ever-present.
A breeze rolled in from the lake. Em opened her eyes and let it blow her hair back from her heated face. She’d dealt with Rhianna’s ploys by faking obedience and dumping drinks into potted plants. She’d survived that, and she could deal with her aunt’s return as well.
Swinging her arms to fool herself into feeling carefree, Em swept past the stones and scrambled down the seawall to the beach. Tangled seaweed and feathers coiled along the high-water mark. Charred driftwood enclosed the remains of a bonfire. She reached the end of the sand, climbed up a series of low rock shelves, and then made her way along the ledges until she could see across the broad lake. Miles of water stretched toward the twilight-faded outlines of the mountains in New York State. Pink and gray rimmed the sky above them.
She sank down on the rocks and dangled her feet over the low cliff, waves rocking only a yard below. Before the call from her therapist, she’d been so sure that staying at the complex until next Spring was her smartest move. Now, she wasn’t so sure—
The scrape of footsteps on stone came from just over her shoulder.
She wheeled around, heart in her throat. Who was it?
Gar stood less than a yard away. He dropped down beside her as casual as anything. He nudged her hip with his thumb. “Are you okay?”
“I was until you scared the hell out of me,” she snapped.
“Why did you take off?” His voice was gentle, but firm. Serious. “The call was about your aunt, wasn’t it?”
Em rubbed her hands along her legs. She gripped her knees. She wanted to lie, but she couldn’t. Not to him. She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Everyone’s worried. You should have come back inside and told us.”
Warmth radiated off of him. The strength of his presence. Moss and evergreens. She swallowed back a knot in her throat. “You didn’t tell them about my aunt being paroled, did you?”
“That’s not mine to tell.”
She sat back, resting her hands behind her. She looked skyward. The clouds rolled, thick and deepening. “I really didn’t think she’d come after me.”
Gar’s voice lowered. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Tears formed in her eyes and her voice cracked. She leaned forward again, elbows on her knees, fingers steepled and pressed against her forehead. “We’re already there. Gar, my aunt knows where I am.”
“That was her on the phone?”
“No. It was my therapist.” She brushed her fingers over her eyes, wiping away the tears. “My aunt was at the halfway house this morning. Someone told her where I am. My—”
Gar looped his arm across her shoulder, pulling her in close. “She has no power over you. You’re an adult. You’ve got friends.”
“It’s not just that.” She drew a long breath. “My mother is with her. She shouldn’t be. She supposed to be under supervision. At a group home.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and stared out across the lake, black waves tipped with gleaming foam. The lights of houses flickered on in the distance, like a necklace of diamonds twinkling along the horizon.
“My mother—” Her voice stiffened, lurching toward the anger she’d held in for years. “I used to blame everything on my aunt. But why would a mother let someone… let a monster use their little girl? It’s not like she was incapable of taking me and walking away.”
“I don’t know. I have five sisters. I can’t imagine my mother or dad allowing anyone to mistreat them.” Gar released her, then took her by both shoulders, turning her to look at him face-to-face. “When I was talking about Armless Long and the Council’s past sanctions, you didn’t react. I think there’s something you don’t know about your situation. Something that directly relates to your mother and aunt.”
She flinched, frowning in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“You and your entire family fall under the legal governance of the Eastern Coast High Council, did you realize that?”
“Of course I belong—I’m a member of the Northern Circle. But I didn’t realize that affected my mother or aunt.” She thought for a second. “Are you talking about before, when the Council sent you to find me at the hospital?”
He smiled, as if savoring the moment. “Do you know anything about your family history? Your genealogy?”
Em blinked at him, then laughed uncomfortably. “Not really.” She began to quiver, her excitement growing. “I’ve always wondered where my ability came from. My aunt is intuitive, but she always seemed jealous of my talent.”
“She probably is. She may also feel entitled to use your magic.” Gar stroked the outline of her face, his gaze on hers. “After I met you and heard your story, I got curious. You had such an amazing amount of talent and courage for a young woman—a teenager. I didn’t have to dig far into the Council records to find your heritage. Are you familiar with Winchester Arms?”
“They made guns, right? What does that have to do with me?”
“The Winchester family was from New Haven—where the Eastern Coast headquarters is. The last surviving Winchester, Sarah, died back in the late nineteenth century. Her husband and child died before her. Supposedly, a medium told her that their deaths were the result of a curse, placed on the Winchester family because their guns had killed so many people. That’s a made-up story. However…”
The breeze picked up again. Waves crashed against the rocks, spraying cold mist. Em shivered but sat still. Cold or not, she wasn’t going to move. Not until Gar finished telling her the truth. She’d given up asking her mother about her heritage even before the tattooing. She’d assumed no one else in her family cared about the past, considering the wall of silent indifference that her questions always ran into.
Gar’s voice growled, a deep tone against the lap of the waves. “In reality, the medium was Sarah Win
chester’s illegitimate half-sister. She was also from New Haven, and felt entitled to a share of the Winchester wealth. I’m not sure exactly what the charges against the medium were; I didn’t dig that deep into the records. But the Council used a curse to subjugate the magic in the medium’s system. It was a curse designed to pass from one generation to the next. However, it seems time and nature have weakened the curse, and the gift of mediumship and magic is returning to your family.”
“Are you saying my children’s abilities will be stronger than mine?”
Gar smiled and nodded. “I’d assume so.”
She looked out across the lake, for the first time in her life daring to visualize herself holding a baby, or maybe two. A kid. With magic, like Chandler and her son.
Gar’s expression became serious again. “To get back to my original point: Because of your heritage, your entire family falls under the governance of the Eastern Coast Council. Your aunt and mother have committed serious crimes. All you need to do is petition the Council for protection against them. It’ll be faster and more formidable than any mundane restraining order.”
“You’re serious.” Em could hardly wrap her head around everything he was saying.
“Very much so.” He pulled her into a hug and whispered, “You need to tell everyone about the possibility of your aunt and mother showing up at the complex. After that, we could go to an A.A. meeting. I don’t know about you, but I could use one.”
She rested her forehead against his chest. “I’m going to miss you when you leave.”
“Shush about that. We need to deal with your aunt and mother first. But before that, we need to get through the High Council meeting.” He leaned back and pushed her hair from her face. “You’re right—it is important that you come with us tomorrow. I’m counting on you to help me with something particular.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“I need you to watch for Saille. I’ve been feeling more together since the séance, but I’m not convinced her attachment to me won’t strengthen if she breaks loose from whatever is holding her back. I need you to make sure she doesn’t influence me.”