“That would be my theory. I’m certain she’s livid about Miranda using Felicity as a horse. But, projecting the anger at a Lwa isn’t going to help. For example, it would be no different than a Christian taking God to task for not giving them the new car they prayed for… Or me blaming the universe for not winning the lottery just because I did a money spell… That’s certainly not going to get a positive result. Negativity begets negativity.
“So, for Annalise to vent her anger at Miranda will only further deny her the gratification. In the end it’s really a simple matter of transference. Felicity becomes the object of her disdain because she views her as a rival for that which she desires.”
“I don’t understand. How is Felicity a rival?” she asked. “Ben said you’d done away with the connection that allowed all this to happen.”
“I did. But, I believe Miranda brought Annalise back here in order to re-establish that connection somehow. The how, I haven’t yet figured out, but she may have already done it. I’m hoping not, but I can’t really be sure. Either way, Annalise almost certainly knows exactly what Miranda wants, but she isn’t about to let it happen if she can help it. And, the only way for her to accomplish that is to remove Felicity from the picture entirely.”
“Okay, so that’s her motivation,” Constance replied. “I suppose you believe that is what’s driving the escalation as well?”
“Partly. But mainly I think it’s frustration,” I said with a nod. “To put it bluntly, I don’t think she’s getting any, so to speak. Of her most recent two murders, neither has been for the sexual gratification like those prior. One appeared to be for the express purpose of working a cross against me, since I am seen as another of her obstacles. Then, the Lewis homicide was purely out of blind anger.”
“He should never have called me by your name,” she repeated Annalise’s words from the tape with an understanding nod.
“Which explains the tongue,” Ben added.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Blatant symbolism is common in hoodoo, and most any other magick, so it would definitely fit the way she thinks.”
Ben thrust his chin toward Constance with a quick nod. “Speakin’ of the Lewis homicide, did you check it out?”
“Not personally,” she replied, shaking her head. “But we had a team there. From what I hear, apparently they just missed you and Rowan.”
“Yeah, well we were just passin’ through.”
“I heard,” she replied then raised her eyebrow and took on a concerned tone. “You know, Ben, you’re probably going to get yourself suspended for taking Rowan there.”
“That’s the plan.”
She sighed. “And you worry about me getting into trouble.”
“Yeah, well, that’s life. So… Your guys find anything we missed?”
She shook her head again. “Not that I’ve heard. They’re still going over everything, but she didn’t seem to leave anything that will help track her down.”
“Wunnerful,” he harrumphed. “So we’re still at square one.”
“For now, it looks that way.”
“Okay, well, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to go check on Felicity,” I said.
Constance gave me an understanding nod. “That’s probably a good idea.”
I turned to head back to the bedroom, but before I even made it as far as the hallway, the electronic trill of a telephone ringing issued from the basement. A split second later, the cordless handset from Felicity’s business line downstairs, which was resting on the dining room table, chirped for attention. I stopped mid-stride and turned around.
Constance looked over to me and asked, “Has Devereaux heard Felicity’s voice?”
“Probably on the answering machine,” I replied.
“Damn,” she mumbled. She stepped over and picked up the handset anyway but simply held it in her hand as it chirped again. “Does she actually identify herself on the outgoing message?”
“I don’t think so. I believe she just launches into the standard leave a message spiel.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll be okay then.” She thumbed the talk button then placed it against her ear. Without missing a beat, she said, “Emerald Photographic Services.”
She looked toward us and nodded as she continued. “This is Felicity… The message? No, that would be my assistant. Who is this?”
We watched silently as Constance put the impromptu ruse into motion. Behind me, I heard the bedroom door open and Felicity softly calling my name. I turned to see her coming toward me, a questioning look on her face. I held my finger up to my lips, motioning for her to stay quiet.
“I assure you, I am Felicity O’Brien,” Constance said into the phone. “But, you still haven’t told me who you…”
She shook her head and sighed then pulled the phone away and thumbed it off.
“She hung up,” she said as she placed the handset back onto the table. “Apparently she didn’t buy it.”
“The accent,” Ben offered. “Five’ll get ya’ ten Lewis mentioned it at some point.”
“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “And, then she picked it up from the answering machine too, so there’s no way around it.”
“You’d best let me answer it the next time, then,” Felicity interjected.
“I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that,” I said.
“Aye, and I don’t know if I’m comfortable with her still being out there,” she spat. “It’s me she’s after. I just want it over.”
“I understand that, honey, but with the state you’re in, I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to talk to her.”
“And what state is that?” she demanded.
“You’re distraught… Understandably so… And, getting on the phone with her is just going to make it worse.”
“Rowan’s right, Felicity,” Constance added, stepping back toward the rest of us. “Talking to Devereaux isn’t going to be easy.”
“Damnú!” my wife snapped. “I don’t care! I just want this over! Now!”
“Calm down, honey,” I said, trying to soothe her.
“Calm down? Don’t you tell me to calm down!”
“Felicity,” Ben started. “We’re just tryin’ ta’ protect you.”
“Well stop it! I don’t want you to protect me!”
Before any of us could respond, the telephone trilled again. Felicity twisted away from me and darted forward, shouldering past Constance as she began to turn. In an instant my wife snatched the handset from the table and had it pressed against the side of her head.
“Hello!” she spat, her tone nothing short of a demand.
All three of us started toward her, but she slipped around to the opposite side of the table, effectively placing it between her and us. We could have easily scrambled around after her, but at this point it didn’t matter. The damage was already done.
She barked into the phone, “Yes, this is she, you saigh… No, it’s Gaelic and it means bitch. Well, I don’t speak French either, but I know bitch when I hear it…”
Having no other recourse, Constance waved to get Felicity’s attention. Once she had it, she pointed to her watch and mouthed, “Keep her talking.”
My wife gave her a curt nod, but the hard frown never left her face, even as she continued to speak, “No. That was my assistant. She has a tendency to be overprotective… Yes, I did get them. They were a lovely thought, but the police wouldn’t let me keep them.”
Constance was keeping her eyes fixed on Felicity, but she had stepped back into the living room and was whispering into her cell phone.
“Aye, what’s wrong?” my wife asked. “Not getting the reaction you wanted?… Did you really think a little blood was going to bother me? I’m afraid you’re going to have to try harder, then…”
I had once been right where my wife was now. On a phone talking to a serial killer—one that wanted me dead more than anything—so, I knew the drill all too well. Unfortunately, my wife wasn’t following it. But, of
course, neither had I.
Even so, I had at least tried to keep my emotions in check. However, what I heard coming from Felicity at this moment was a darkness so black that it made me fear each coming word.
“Why would I care?” she spat. “I was done with him. Besides, he deserved it, didn’t he?… You said so yourself. He shouldn’t have called you Felicity… That had to hurt. Him worshipping me and not you… Really? It’s too bad you feel that way. Why not? Maybe she’s tired of you, did you ever think of that?… Maybe you just aren’t worthy of her… Maybe you’re just all used up and that’s why she wants me… What makes you think you can stop her? Really? I’d like to see you try… Is that so? Well, you know where I am. Come and get me… Hello? Hello?…”
Felicity allowed the phone to slowly drop down from her ear then switched it off.
“She hung up,” she muttered.
“The call was coming from a prepaid cell phone,” Constance announced. “They pulled a grid location but didn’t get an exact pinpoint. There are units responding to the area right now. Don’t worry, you did fine, Felicity. We’ll find her.”
My wife laid the handset on the table then pulled out a chair and slowly lowered herself into it. I watched as the hard expression on her face began to ease then melt away. She stared across the table at me for a moment, until finally there was nothing more than blankness and a vacant stare in her eyes.
“Honey…” I began.
Before I could get the rest of the sentence out of my mouth, a tear began rolling down her cheek and her lower lip started to quiver as her body trembled. By the time I got around the table to her, she was sobbing in violent heaves.
Across the room I heard Ben say to Constance, “I’m callin’ Helen.”
CHAPTER 35:
“Anything?” I asked as Constance walked into the kitchen and laid her cell phone on the island with a disgusted sigh.
She shook her head and frowned. “No. Not a thing. They’ve searched the area, out through a ten block radius. They’re still working it but nothing yet. She turned the cell off almost as soon as she hung up, so we can’t even track a signal.”
“So, we wait,” I said.
“And, we keep looking,” she agreed. “Remember, she’s definitely agitated, so she’s far more likely to make a mistake now than if she was calm and calculating. That’s a good thing for us.”
“She’s been making mistakes for a while now,” I added as I turned back to fill the coffeemaker and start a fresh pot.
“Yes, she has. Just not the kind we need her to make.”
I finished filling the reservoir then slid the carafe in and flipped the switch. Instead of turning around to face Constance, however, I simply leaned against the counter and allowed my head to hang. The chronic thud in the back of my skull was drumming along in unison with my heartbeat, and on top of that, my temples were throbbing with the muddied pains of exhaustion.
I glanced to the side and settled my eyes on the bottle of aspirin that was still sitting on the counter where I had left it days before. I had tried repeatedly to self-medicate with other over the counter pain relievers, following their directions to the letter, but plain old aspirin was the only thing that ever seemed to help. Giving up, I reached for the bottle and popped it open. Instead of my normal handful, however, I limited the dose to four tablets. Whether or not that would be enough to even touch the pain, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t need to get back into the habit of poisoning myself.
I popped the pills into my mouth then quickly washed them down with a swig of my cold coffee. Setting the cup aside, I continued to rest against the counter, eyes closed and chin against my chest.
After a moment, Constance quietly asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Headache.”
“That’s not unusual for you, I don’t guess.”
“Yeah. Lucky me.”
“Is Felicity still on the phone with Helen?”
“She was when I checked a few minutes ago,” I acknowledged, pushing away from the counter ledge and turning, then leaning my back against it. “It’s been over an hour now. But, at least it seems to be helping her.”
“Good,” she said as she slid onto one of the barstools near the island. “I really hated seeing Felicity like that.”
“You and me both.”
“By the way, Ben is out on the front porch having a cigar. He said to let you know in case you wanted to join him.”
“I could probably use that,” I replied. “But I don’t know if I have the energy right now.”
I couldn’t help but notice that Constance was eyeing me carefully from her seat. She continued to watch me as I stood there rubbing my temples. I’m sure I looked like a total wreck. I know I felt like one.
Finally, she said, “You look tired.”
I sighed, “I feel tired.”
“How are you doing with all this?”
I let out a sarcastic half chuckle. “Just another day in my fucked up life, I suppose.”
“Right,” she replied, her own sardonic tone showing through. “So, how are you really? Besides being tired, I mean.”
“Truth? Angry. Maybe a little worried.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot.”
“You don’t have to worry, Rowan. We aren’t going to let anything happen to either one of you.”
“I know you believe that,” I replied with a careful nod. “But there is only so much you will be able to stop.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, Annalise is a known quantity. She’s corporeal and I know you can do something about her. Miranda on the other hand… Well, she’s beyond your control. Maybe even mine…”
“Won’t stopping Devereaux stop Miranda as well?”
“I really don’t know. But, I doubt it. There may well have been some truth to what Felicity said to Annalise on the phone earlier. Miranda might be looking for new blood. If she is, then she won’t stop until she gets it.”
“And, since she has fixated on Felicity…” she left the rest of the sentence unspoken.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “It will be fine if there is no connection there, but if she finds a way to make one… Assuming she hasn’t already…Well… I don’t really even want to speculate.”
“How could she manage to create a connection, though?”
“That’s the wonderful and extremely scary thing about magick, Constance. A little goes a long way, and something very simple can have a great impact.”
“So, you’re worrying about what they found at the Lewis homicide?”
I shrugged. “I guess I am. On the surface it seems like a fairly innocuous bit of spellwork aimed at lust. I keep trying to tell myself since Annalise isn’t getting the satisfaction she wants, she did it for that specific purpose… A stab at re-igniting her own passions… But, it wasn’t really hoodoo, which is a little odd. Of course, it had some of the hallmarks of folk magick, which is no surprise and could explain the deviation. I just don’t know for sure what it was, and that’s the thing that bothers me most.”
“Isn’t there anything you can do about it?”
“I can protect against it, but not knowing what it is for sure, there’s no way to counteract it.”
“But, like you said, you can protect against it.”
“Yes. I can for a while. But, we’re talking about the magickal equivalent of being in a boxing ring. I can dance around in a circle with my gloves up in front of my face to deflect the blows; but eventually I’m going to wear down, and a punch is going to get through, and then another, and another…”
“You don’t paint a very positive picture.”
“I’m just telling it like it is,” I replied. “The only saving grace is that magick doesn’t always work. If it did, I’d already be dead after the crossing Annalise did. But, sometimes even when it does work, it doesn’t necessarily do what it was intended to do. The binding I did to protect Felicity is a prime example. It was suppo
sed to keep her from harm. Instead, it created the connection between her and Annalise—and by default, Miranda.”
“Have you figured out why that happened?”
“Yes, actually. It was blatant stupidity on my part,” I replied. “It took me some time to figure it out, but I finally did. The problem is I worked the magick while the moon was void of course. That means it was in between aspects of two different astrological signs. I realize that doesn’t sound like a rational, scientific explanation to most, but we’re talking about magick here. And, any Witch with half a brain knows magick worked during a void-of-course moon almost never does what it is intended to do. It has a mind of its own.”
“So you did it on the wrong day?”
“Worse than that. Wrong hour. If I had done it a couple of hours sooner or a couple of hours later, there’s a good possibility none of this would have ever happened. Where Felicity is concerned, anyway.”
“But not you?”
“I don’t know. Annalise and Miranda were already out there. I didn’t create either of them. Somewhere along the line our paths probably would have crossed. Maybe not as soon as they did, or with such a direct impact, but eventually it would have happened. Ben would have called me to look at the symbols she was leaving behind, and everything would have been set into motion.”
“No offense, but aren’t you contradicting yourself? It sounds to me as if you think this would have happened anyway.”
“Yes, I think it would have, but like I said, differently. It would have happened to me, not my wife. It’s one thing to have this crap coming down on my head… But, Felicity doesn’t deserve it.”
“And you do?”
“Who knows? I’ve tried to walk away from it more than once, but it keeps pulling me back in, so there must be a reason.”
“That doesn’t mean you deserve to have these horrors in your life, Rowan.”
I shook my head. “Maybe not, but they’re here, and there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it, now does there?”
“Okay, I won’t argue that point with you. But, let’s get back to Miranda. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
The End Of Desire: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 25