“I agree with you,” she told him. “But turning into a vigilante is not the way to do it.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” my friend mumbled.
We came to a halt as a group, standing to one side of the traffic lane behind a row of cars. Twenty feet to our left was the concrete base of the light standard.
“I’m still not listening,” Mandalay told him again.
“Good.”
Ben looked across the parking lot, twisting in place as he scanned the area, an intense frown digging a deep furrow into his face.
“Some rent-a-cop is probably watchin’ us on the camera right now,” he finally said while looking over his shoulder.
“More than likely,” I heard Constance reply, her voice starting off at a normal tone then suddenly stretching into a stream of Doppler distorted syllables.
It was happening again. A sharp pain sliced through my ribcage before I could even open my mouth, and I felt my chest instantly tighten. Still, I tried to speak but found that I had no breath.
A choppy drone that vaguely resembled Ben’s voice fell into the humming void behind Mandalay’s. “Guess you better do whatever you’re gonna do before security shows up. Okay, Row?”
The parking lot was starting to spin away, whirlpooling from my sight in a psychedelic swirl, like multiple colors of paint pouring down a drain. My heart was hammering in my chest, and suddenly nothing made sense to me any longer.
I didn’t know where I was.
I didn’t know who I was.
I didn’t know what I was.
But, for some strange reason, I did know I was in trouble when I heard a vaguely familiar voice. It was loud; distinctly feminine, possessed of an Irish lilt, and unmistakably anguished as it echoed in my ears, “Ground! Dammit Rowan! GROUND!”
CHAPTER 31:
Something is biting into my side.
Pinching flesh.
Tearing skin.
Freezing.
Burning.
I’m not sure which.
All I know is that it hurts.
I cannot breathe.
I want to breathe, but nothing seems to work.
I think my brain is saying to breathe, but maybe it isn’t.
My chest is tight, and I can feel myself shaking.
Or at least I think I can.
I just don’t know anymore.
Nothing is making sense.
Nothing is certain except the pain.
Nothing at all.
Nothing…
I returned to the here and now in a single, horrendously painful, fraction of a second. The only warning that I was about to cross the veil yet again was the sudden feeling that I was being jerked backward, as if by a hand hooked into my collar. After that, it was all over. An entirely new kind of pain tore through my body as I gasped for air. I felt for all the world as if I had just slammed face first into a concrete wall.
My eyes snapped open and an unfocused mottle of contrasty greys took over my field of vision. My ears were filled with the sound of a car alarm blaring, and a ball of agony throbbed inside my head, keeping perfect time with it.
My sight faded quickly in, returning to something near normal, even if it was still no more than a black and white rendition of reality. My head was hanging forward, and I noticed that I was leaning against something. At first glance, it looked like the back of a black sedan, but of course, color wasn’t something I could readily identify at the moment. Still, unless I missed my guess, the car was ground zero for the obnoxious honking and warbling.
“Rowan!” Ben’s voice wove its way through the raucous noise, filtering into my ears. “Rowan! Breathe!”
I looked up and blinked. It took a moment for me to realize I was staring into his face as he was steadying me. I fought to focus on him as light suddenly bloomed around me in a bright flash, chasing the shadows in a chaotic game of tag. Color began seeping into my world as if being slowly dialed in with a control knob.
I felt a hot breath suddenly explode from my lungs, and I coughed as I sucked in the cool, autumn air.
“Storm!” Agent Mandalay’s voice threaded through the racket with more than a hint of urgency.
Out of reflex, I sent my eyes searching for the source of the cry. Ben maintained his grip on me but twisted around to look as well. As I rolled my head to the side and glanced past him, I caught a glimpse of Constance struggling to hold my wife’s violently shaking form.
The memory of her first experience with such ethereal channeling was still fresh enough for me to get a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach just at the sight of her seizing. Lucidity rushed in where once there was confusion, and the words “Dammit Rowan! Ground!” reverberated inside my skull. I instantly realized what had happened. Felicity, in an attempt to ground me, had taken my place on the other side.
I didn’t know how far I had gone, but I did remember that the hold on me had been one of the strongest I had ever felt. Tearing me away from it meant she had been left with no choice but to release her own ground in this plane; and, because of that, now it was she who was grappling with the horrors on the opposite side of the dark threshold.
I couldn’t remember exactly what had been happening to me before I was wrenched away, but I knew it wasn’t good. What I did recall was that at the very least, I was in horrific pain, and at the very worst, I was a scant few steps from taking up permanent residence in the domain of the dead.
In either case, I simply wasn’t going to allow it to continue happening to her.
I heard myself screaming ‘NO’ as I broke away from Ben and threw myself toward my now posturing wife. I managed to sidestep my friend before he even realized what was happening, and a few steps later, I was hooking my arms around Felicity, taking the brunt of her weight from Agent Mandalay as she continued to shudder and jerk. I began settling downward as I cradled her, kneeling onto the asphalt parking lot.
“Dammit, Cerridwen, you bitch!” I said aloud, almost yelling; rancor was thick in my voice. “Leave her alone! Do you hear me?! Leave… Her… Alone!”
Never, and I do mean never, in my history as a practicing Witch, have I ever had a spell work in full the very moment it was cast. Especially when it was cast as a demand and not a request. And, even more importantly, when I didn’t even realize I was casting one to begin with.
Of course, strong emotion is the most powerful energy one can muster, and the words themselves are nothing more than a vehicle for that energy. Sometimes, I suppose being painfully direct about what you want is the only way to communicate with The Ancients.
Still, as much as I would like to take credit for what transpired the moment I recited the angry demand, I am fairly certain my position with the Gods is not one of absolute favor. If it was, I’m sure I wouldn’t be doomed to this particular destiny. Therefore, any demand I would make would be certain to fall on deaf ears, and I fully suspect this end result was mere coincidence.
However, you couldn’t convince Ben Storm that it was anything short of magick.
Even as the last syllable was leaving my mouth, Felicity ceased her violent shaking and fell limp in my arms. She gasped once, her chest rose as she drew in a deep measure of fresh air, and then she began to breathe normally. She was unconscious, but that was probably for the best at the moment.
Strobe-like amber luminescence was now flickering across us in the pre-dusk dimness of the overcast afternoon. I felt a presence beside me and looked up to see Ben’s incredulous face staring back down at us as he leaned forward.
“Damn, white man, I dunno who the hell Kara is,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear. “But I think she’s afraid of ya’.”
“Special Agent Mandalay, Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Off to my left, I heard Constance almost yelling the formality, and I looked over to see her face to face with a mall security guard. She had her badge case open and displayed in her hand, and the older man was giving it a close look.
I hadn’t even noticed the
truck pull up, but considering that the alarm on the car had yet to reset itself, I shouldn’t have been surprised that I hadn’t heard it. The security vehicle was equipped with a flashing light bar, so that explained the yellowish disco lighting that had suddenly appeared.
I looked around and noticed a small crowd of shoppers had gathered several yards away. There was plenty of the standard pointing, gawking, and leaning close to one another in order to compare notes as they speculated about the scene. I didn’t have to hear them to know what they were saying. I’d stared back into crowds like this before. It was all just a part of the human dynamic, and where there was public strife there would be onlookers with off-base opinions.
“Seizure,” Constance was shouting to the security guard. “Fell against the car…”
The last two words of her sentence belted out across the parking lot, piercing the suddenly low-level ambient noise as the car alarm reset with a clipped burp of the horn and settled into silence.
“Fell against the car and set off the alarm,” she continued in a normal tone.
“She an epileptic?” he asked.
“Something like that,” Constance replied.
“Would you like for me to call paramedics?” the guard asked, glancing past her at Felicity’s motionless form, still cradled in my arms.
“Rowan?” Constance called over to me.
I shook my head. “No. We just need to get her home so she can rest.”
“You sure, sir? She doesn’t look so good,” the officer leaned around Constance and spoke directly to me, a slight southern drawl to his voice.
I nodded quickly. “She’ll be fine. We’ve been through this before.”
Neither of us was lying. We just weren’t telling the whole story. Fortunately, the security officer didn’t seem to notice.
“If you say so,” he replied. “But I’m gonna have to get your names and such for my report.”
“Detective Ben Storm, SLPD,” my friend offered, flashing his badge. “Listen, do you mind if I go pull my van up so she has a place to lay down.”
The guard looked over the top of his glasses at the gold shield, then glanced around, inspecting the thruway. He finally nodded as he pointed to a freshly vacated slot a few cars away, “Yeah, go ahead. Just pull in over there so you’re not blockin’ traffic.”
Ben took off at a jog, and the security officer turned his attention back to us. “A Fed and a city cop,” he grunted and then looked over at me. “You got a badge too?”
“No sir,” I replied. “We’re both civilians.”
“Good,” he grunted again. “I was starting to wonder if y’all were out here about the abduction this morning. Wait here while I go get my clipboard.”
Constance looked over at me as he turned his back to us and she asked, “Are you sure she’s okay?”
“She should be. It’s over now,” I replied and then paused before adding. “For the moment, anyway.”
“So, what happened?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper. “You started falling, she starting yelling something about the ground, and the next thing I knew she went stiff as a board.”
“I slipped over to the other side,” I replied quietly, not bothering to correct her perception regarding what Felicity had said. “I’m pretty sure she decided to rescue me, and since Kimberly Forest is her friend, she had an even stronger connection than me. So…” I allowed the rest of my speculation to remain unspoken.
“Damn, Rowan, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you two.”
“Don’t worry,” I offered. “I don’t think we’ll ever get used to us either.”
“You said your name was Mandalay, right?” the security officer asked as he stepped back over to us, clipboard in hand. “So, how do you spell that?”
“Here,” Constance said, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a business card for him.
He took it from her and slipped it beneath the holder on the metal clipboard, then began writing, pausing now and again to glance at the cardboard rectangle.
“Rowan…” Felicity’s faint voice wafted into my ears.
I looked down and saw her eyes fluttering open, so I shifted my arm and brushed the hair back from her face.
“Hey,” I replied simply.
I had settled from my original kneeling position and was now fully seated on the asphalt. It wasn’t the most comfortable of places to sit, and on top of that, it was cool enough to be leaching the warmth from my body right through the seat of my pants. I imagined Felicity was faring no better, since she was laid out across my lap with her lower half splayed onto the hard surface as well. I was glad Ben had gone to get the van.
“He’s hurting her, Rowan,” she whispered.
“I know, honey,” I said, gently rocking. “I know.”
“No,” she spoke again, her voice still a weak thread. Her eyelids were falling back down as she continued. “I remember…”
“You remember?” I asked.
“Yes…” she whispered again, her voice barely audible as it trailed off, and she drifted back into a hazy sleep.
“Hey, Kemosabe,” Ben’s voice came at me from above. “Let me give ya’ a hand.”
I looked up and saw my friend in front of me. He knelt down and slipped a large hand behind Felicity’s shoulders, then began gently lifting her up into a sitting position as I supported her neck. I pushed back and twisted my legs around, dragging myself up to my knees again and slipping my arms around her torso. Once Ben had helped me get her up off the ground, and I lifted her into my arms, he ran ahead to open the side door of the van.
I carried her the thirty-odd feet to the vehicle, and my friend was already waiting for us.
“How’s she doin’?” he asked as he helped me settle her into the seat.
“She woke up for a second,” I told him hurriedly. “And she said that she remembers.”
“Remembers what?” he asked as he carefully reclined the seat several inches while I buckled her in.
“Something about what she saw on the other side, but I’m not sure exactly. She drifted back off before she said anything else.”
“Shit,” he muttered and then looked at me. “Okay, let’s get rid of this rent-a-cop and get ‘er somewhere comfortable so we can talk.”
“I really don’t want to leave her alone right now,” I said.
He gave me an understanding nod. “Yeah, I know what ya’ mean. You stay with ‘er, and I’ll handle it.”
My friend took off at a trot, covering the distance quickly with his long-legged gait. I watched as he repeated the same action Constance had with the business card and continued talking to the officer as he wrote.
The wind was picking up, and the chill in the autumn air was beginning to take on an unpleasant bite. I looked back to check on Felicity and noticed her body was twisting away from the open door, most likely out of reflex, reacting to the drop in temperature. I stepped over and slid it partially shut to shelter her from the breeze.
When I turned back to see what was going on, the security officer was gesturing toward me. Ben was saying something to him, but I couldn’t make it out at this distance. The officer started waving me over, and Ben began to jog in my direction.
I took some tentative steps, meeting my friend a few feet away from the van.
“He says he’s gotta see your ID,” Ben grumbled, shaking his head. “Jeezus, I hate wannabe cops.”
“He’s just doing his job, Ben,” I replied, but I wasn’t any more excited about the situation than he.
He jerked his head toward Mandalay and the officer. “Go ahead. I’ll stay with Firehair.”
“Okay,” I returned, starting toward them while reaching for my wallet.
I only made it three steps before Felicity began to scream.
CHAPTER 32:
It no longer mattered whether Felicity’s sudden disconnection from the other side of the veil had been the result of magick, luck, or pure coincidence. Whichever it was, it had obviou
sly worn off.
Ben was already yanking back the side door of the van as I was turning in place. For a brief moment, I froze dead in my tracks, as the image that greeted me brought back a flood of fear-tainted memories.
Felicity’s back was impossibly arched as she bucked and strained against the shoulder harness. Her hands were clawed around the armrests and her forearms planted firm, pressed along the lengths as if permanently cemented there. She convulsed and fell back into the partially reclined seat, tossing her head to the side while twisting against the unseen bonds. Her normally beautiful face was flushed deep red, and her features were twisted and carved deeply with lines. The fissures joined in a maddening tangle to form a horrid mask of pain. The muscles and tendons of her neck were visibly bulging, tensed to their limits, if not beyond.
For the second time in my life, I felt my blood turn instantly to ice as her tear-filled eyes met mine, and she wailed uncontrollably. The scream was one of pure agony— an unearthly sound I begged the Lord and Lady to never make me hear again. But, they weren’t listening. When Felicity regained her breath, the grating banshee cry came again, this time coupled with the barely intelligible words, “Please! No!”
I was somewhere around a half-dozen or so steps away from the van when I turned, but I made it back to the open door in three.
“Whadda we do?” Ben yelled at me, fighting to be heard over my wife’s pained cry.
“I have to ground her,” I yelled back, reaching in and clamping my hand around her thin wrist. It had worked for her; I could only hope that it would do so for me. Unfortunately, I was all too aware that she was the one who had the bond of familiarity with Kimberly Forest, not I; and, such a connection was something that would be not be easily overcome.
An arc of pain immediately shot up my arm, causing me to tense as it joined with my other near forgotten aches, bringing them each back to the forefront. I shuddered but held tight to my wife’s arm.
Her flesh was cool and clammy to the touch. I feared the intensity of the torture was taking a heavy toll. Ethereal or not, as far as her body was concerned, it was the real thing, and it was sending her into shock.
Crone's Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 24