by C. J. Bahr
Despair filled Laurel. No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t live if she lost both Beth and Simon in a matter of minutes. She prayed Simon wouldn’t show. After all, he had no idea where she was.
“Step away from her, MacKenzie.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“At last.” Alex slowly turned and faced Simon MacKay, who had materialized out of nowhere. He’d seen him before, with Laurel at the barn, but it was still unsettling to witness the man appearing in front of him looking not a day older than thirty. After all, Alastair murdered him over two hundred years ago. In fact, MacKay in his jeans and T-shirt, wouldn’t have given Alex pause if he had passed him on the street. Well, except for those eyes. Those damn spooky gray, holier than thou, MacKay eyes. God, it was going to feel good to kill him once and for all.
“If only you’d been a little faster, Beth might still be alive,” he jeered as he stroked Laurel’s hair. He was doubly rewarded when she jerked her head away from his touch and at the same time, a horrified realization dawned on MacKay’s face. “Just like your father, so I’m told. Completely ineffectual. And now you’re in time to watch Ms. Saville die.”
He watched in satisfaction as MacKay’s gaze snapped to Laurel’s and almost laughed. Ah, true love.
“Get away from her, MacKenzie,” Simon growled.
“Or what? You’re a ghost. Albeit extraordinarily solid, but you’re still a ghost.” He needed MacKay to step further into the room, more precisely, onto the center of the carpet where his little trap awaited. “Are you going to stick your hand through me? I’m quaking in my shoes.”
“Bastard, you’ll see what I’m capable of,” Simon lunged faster than Alex had anticipated. Simon was across the circle before he or his men could react. MacKay plowed into him, crashing them to the ground. It felt like a boulder had landed on him. Christ, the wanker was heavy as he was solid, which was all the time for thought Alex had when MacKay reared up and his large fist connected with Alex’s chin. He saw stars. God. Damn It!
Before MacKay could land another blow, Alex twisted enabling him to move his knee in a solid blow to MacKay’s ghostly jewels. It had the expected results—MacKay fell back allowing him to slip free. He gained his feet just as MacKay did. The dirty blow barely slowed him, but Alex wasn’t worried. He knew how to fight, and he wasn’t about to lose this one.
Just as Alex was closing to engage, one of his hidden men, Cameron shouted.
“Down, MacKenzie!”
Alex ducked and the roar of a shotgun exploded in the room. The loaded ammo of rock salt hit MacKay solid in the chest, rocking him back, but not doing much more. Alex began to doubt his hired help. He had a hard time believing rock salt was better than bullets.
“Again!” Riley, Cameron’s taller, supernatural hunting partner, yelled.
Twin blasts sounded as both men fired. The direct double hits made an impression. For a brief moment, Simon flashed out of existence and then popped back in, a few steps further away. They fired again. MacKay blinked out and reappeared a few more feet back.
Salt hurt ghosts, who knew? Seeing his chance, Alex avoided the hunters’ line of shot and reached Laurel’s side. He grabbed the Sig P220 from the table and pressed the muzzle hard against her forehead. With his free hand, he tore the duct tape from her mouth.
“Simon!” Her cry was perfectly timed between shotgun blasts. Everyone froze.
Alex locked gazes with MacKay and smiled. “We can end this now, or, you can play the hero and do as I say.”
“No, Simon, it’s a trap. Don’t listen to him!”
He placed his free hand on top of Laurel’s head and leaned in, pressing the gun harder into skin. In a theatrical whisper, he replied, “well of course it’s a trap, but he has little choice, love.” He straightened, taking his hand away, but leaving the gun in place. “Right, MacKay?”
If looks could kill, Alex had no doubt MacKay’s silver glare would have vaporized him on the spot. Guns could, even knives, but he wasn’t afraid of an angry glare. “Well?”
“What do you want, MacKenzie.”
“Ahh, what a question. Much too involved to answer completely now; however, at this moment, I want to you to stand under that chandelier and not move.” He pointed at the light and then leaned his weight into the gun causing Laurel to whimper. “Understand?”
MacKay’s reply was another glower before looking at Laurel.
“No, Simon, don’t. He’ll kill me anyway. Don’t do this,” she pleaded with him.
Oh how very touching.
MacKay shook his head, turned his back, and walked to the center of the room. Directly below the chandelier, he stopped, turned, and faced them. He stood silently, like an immovable block of granite. Perfect.
“All right, lads. Time to earn your pay.”
Riley lowered his shotgun, but Cameron kept his level on MacKay, covering his partner as he bent behind the couch. Riley rose back into view with a five-pound bag of salt. He tossed it through the air, where Cameron deftly caught it one-handed.
Cameron turned to Alex, who nodded. The men didn’t waste time or effort as they ripped open the bags and laid a circle of salt around MacKay about two meters in diameter. These men were good. Better and more practical than the pansy ghost hunters Beth hired. Riley and Cameron were the real thing and they had the credentials to prove it. Better yet, they weren’t squeamish and their morals were of dubious ethics—just his kind of people.
“It’s done?” Alex asked.
“Should be secure,” Riley replied.
Well there certainly was one way to test it. His hand snaked out and slapped Laurel across her mouth in a stinging blow, leaving behind a red handprint, bleeding lip and her echoing cry of pain
It was poetry in motion. MacKay lunged forward with a growl trying to reach her only to slam into an invisible wall at the perimeter of the circle.
Holy shit, it really worked. If there’re ghosts, Alex supposed, there could be magic, too. He hadn’t believed a circle could become a cage with just some ink and salt. Glorious.
He beamed as he watched MacKay test his cage. Riley and Cameron closed in, rifles loaded with rock salt at the ready, covering the man in case he found a way out of the charmed prison. The boys were definitely earning a bonus.
Still smiling, he gave Laurel’s head a couple of pats. This day was certainly shaping up.
“Simon!” She shouted.
“MacKenzie, I’ll find a way out,” MacKay threatened. He stopped throwing himself against the barrier and prowled his cage like a giant cat.
“I doubt it, but feel free to try,” he encouraged. “But before you get yourself all hot and bothered, maybe you’ll answer a question or two, that way, I won’t have to torture poor Lori here.” He gave her head another pat and watched as Simon stopped and glared at him.
“Where is the Orb?”
His question was met with stony silence. Alex shook his head. “I’ll give you one more chance, then I’ll kill you and move on to torturing the girl.”
MacKay continued to glare at him.
“No? Hmmm? I’m a man of my word, just ask Laurel. She learned her lesson the hard way.”
Simon continued his impression of a statue. Oh, well. He hadn’t thought it would be that easy, but he had to at least try.
“Right, then.” He nodded toward the hunters.
Riley lowered his rifle as he pulled out a battered leather book from the back pocket of his jeans. He flipped pages to a well-worn section that obviously had frequent use, it stayed easily open on his palm with no additional help.
“Ready, mate?” Riley asked his partner.
“Anytime,” Cameron answered.
Alex stood transfixed. If all went well, this was the end of MacKay. He leaned down and whispered to Laurel. “Watch carefully, love. You’re about to witness a one-of-a-kind show.”
“Alex,” her voice choked out. “What are you doing?”
“Finishing something my
ancestor, Alistair started centuries ago.”
“Stop. You can’t. Please, Alex.”
“Now you beg? Too late. Hush now, or I’ll gag you again,” he admonished and watched as she bit her swollen lip and struggled not to break down. Duplicitous bitch. He’d enjoy breaking her, taking his time. She’d learn she put her faith in the wrong man.
“Exorcizamus te, immundus spiritus,” Riley intoned in perfect Latin.
It began, Alex relished. He hoped MacKay ended in hell where he belonged.
“We exorcise you, impure spirit,” Cameron translated.
“Satanica potestas, incursio infernalis adversarii.”
“Satanic power, incursion of infernal adversary.”
“No! Alex, stop!” Laurel screamed.
Would she not shut up? His hand whipped out again, landing a second slap to her face.
“Laurel!” Simon threw himself at her, but slammed into the barrier with such force he was flung back and nearly fell. “I’ll kill ye, Mackenzie.”
Riley and Cameron continued without a pause, the incantation. “Ergo, spiritus maledicte, exorcizamus te.”
“Therefore, cursed spirit, we exorcize you.”
MacKay froze, his pacing stopped, and his body stiffened as a grimace crossed his face. It was working! He heard Laurel whimper, but ignored her, too fascinated with the ceremony. He could swear MacKay was becoming translucent.
“Votum nostrum Deus audit.”
“God, hear our prayer.”
“You’re invoking God? How dare ye, MacKenzie. God doesn’t hear Satan’s servant,” MacKay shouted.
“Ironic, isn’t it? Kettle, black. I’m not the haunted soul, cursed to walk the earth. But don’t worry, your time’s at an end.”
“Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.” Riley picked up the pace as the Latin spun out.
“We’ll see who God protects,” MacKay threw back.
“You make your Church safe to serve you freely, we ask you, hear us.”
He watched Simon struggle, fighting the effects of the prayer. It was to no avail as MacKay became transparent then flickered back to solid, as the time between transitions grew. MacKay was definitely losing the battle.
“Exorcizamus te, spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu Christi Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc.”
“We exorcise thee, unclean spirit, in the name of God the Father Almighty, Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son, and in the power of the Holy Spirit, that thou depart.”
“Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum, qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos, et saeculum per ignem.”
“We cast you out, spirit, through the same Christ our Lord, who shall come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire.”
Alex watched Simon’s futile battle. Now, the bastard actually disappeared. Each time he returned, MacKay’s lips were a thin-lined grimace, his hands fisted at his side, while his body thrummed with tension. He appeared in agony as he fought against the exorcism. Alex grinned.
“No, Lord! You canna let this happen!” MacKay shouted.
“Simon!” Laurel screamed.
MacKay’s pain-filled gaze locked onto Laurel. “Mo anigeal,” his voice cut off with a gasp of pain.
“No, please no,” her voice broke.
“Stay alive,” Simon’s whisper matched his translucent outline.
“Simon!”
“Nomine Patris, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”
MacKay disappeared. Everyone in the room held their breath, waiting to see if he’d manage to return. The only sound came from the ticking clock sitting on the mantel. He didn’t reappear.
Riley slammed the book closed.
“A-fucking-men!” Cameron concluded while giving his partner a high-five.
Alex turned to Laurel, who was sobbing once more. Damn, he was tired of her crying.
“Well done, lads. You’ve earned your money. I’ve even left you a wee bonus,” he faced Riley and Cameron, who stood there grinning. “Pardon me for not showing you out. Your pay is on the table beside the door.”
“Thanks, Mr. MacKenzie,” Cameron nodded in acknowledgment of the payment and the bonus.
“Yeah, and if you need anything else, anything at all, be sure to contact us,” Riley added. The men took the hint and swiftly departed, asking no questions or giving second thoughts to what had just happened. They had been discreet. They had even bought his explanation he was trying to free Laurel from an evil spirit. Granted they had heard him mention Beth’s death, but they hadn’t batted an eye, even at the sight of Laurel’s blood covered hands and clothes. Good help was hard to come by and Alex would use them again if he needed to.
It wasn’t until he heard the front door close, that he turned his attention back to the empty circle. He walked to the edge and stared down at the thick line of salt. He raised his foot to smudge the line, but stop himself with second thoughts. It appeared the exorcism worked, but just in case, he’d leave the cage intact. If MacKay managed to return, he’d still be trapped.
Laurel. He stared at her with disgust. Her hair, mostly escaped from the single tie that had held it back, was a stringy mess around her bowed head. But it couldn’t hide the tears streaming down her face, past the red welts and swollen lip. Blood dripped erratically, but enough that it stained the shoulder of her white T-shirt bright red.
It could have been so different. She was pretty enough and certainly smart enough, he might have let her live. Oh well, with MacKay gone for good, Alex had plenty of time to play. No time like the present.
“Enough!” He walked back to her and hauled off, smacking her. Laurel’s head was thrown against the chair with a satisfying thud. It had the desired effect, her tears dried up while she glared at him. New blood trickled from her mouth.
“You, son-of-a-bitch. I won’t talk. If you thought killing Beth and Simon would motivate me, you’re an ass.”
Nice to see she still had some fight left, it would make the game all that more interesting. He stepped in front of her and rested his hands on top of her arms again, grinding them into the chair and leaned in. Before she could think to spit or bite him, he took her mouth with his, invading her forcibly, as a prelude to what he had planned for later.
His hands gripped her tighter, forcing a groan from her. Ah, he was so going to enjoy this. He broke the kiss, biting hard on her lip as he withdrew causing her to cry out. Straightening, he took a look at his handy work. Her lips were a mess and the lower one had blood flowing freely now. She was gasping for breath, and if he wasn’t mistaken as he held her gaze, a hint of fear now showed in their hazel depths. Good. She’d learn the meaning of terror before he was done.
He walked to the hearth, out of her view and picked up a dagger from the mantel. Taking his time, he crossed back and stood behind her. He let the sharp blade dangle over her shoulder and into her view. She stiffened and held still.
“Now, love, we’re going to play a game. I’m sure you recognize this weapon. After all you work for a museum.” He twisted it so it lay across her bare throat. He watched as sweat broke across her brow. “Tell me what this is.”
She closed her mouth in a tight line as air continued to hiss in and out of her nose. The poor girl was close to hyperventilating. “You know the ground rules. I’m a man of my word, remember? Answer my question. What is this lovely blade across your throat?”
He tightened his grip and felt her skin give ever so slightly. A drop of blood gathered on the bright edge. He eased off, so she’d be able to speak.
She swallowed, then whispered, “Sgian dubh.”
“Correct. Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” He removed the short Scottish blade and walked around the chair to stand in front of her once more. “I’m going to cut you free. If I were you, I wouldn’t move. The blade is sharp, as you already know.” He glanced at her throat then down her body, noticing her slight
tremble. Life was good. He’d give her some hope before showing her hope was impossible. Let her think she might escape. It would be so much fun proving he held all the cards. She’d never get away from him.
Alex knelt before her and placed the blade between the chair and tape. Duct tape, ever so versatile. He made quick work of it and when the tape separated from the chair, he casually reached over and ripped the tape off Laurel’s bare arm, leaving a red hairless mark in its wake. Her cry was almost a scream, but smart lass, she didn’t move.
He quickly cut the other arm free. Laurel, prepared for the pain, barely whimpered when he tore the tape off. Keeping an eye on her, he seared through the tape holding her legs to the chair. Ripping off the tape held no satisfaction because of her jeans, but he knew what was coming and he waited in anticipation.
She didn’t disappoint. The moment she was free, she bolted from the chair. Expecting it, Alex was up in a flash. His arm snaked out and encircled her waist. He pulled her flush against himself.
“No!” She shouted and struggled. She was no match for him and in moments he had the dagger back up against her throat. She froze, breathing hard.
“Yes,” he murmured in her ear. “We can’t have you leaving. The fun has just begun, love.”
Her whole body trembled the length of his. He was sure she felt how much he was enjoying himself. Let her worry, because in time that would come too, right after he had some answers. He spun her around and let her go.
“There’s no escaping,” he warned. “To trot out the old cliché, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Either is fine with me.”
“Screw you.” She glared back at him.
He laughed. “In time. But first a wee chat, apparently the hard way.” He flipped the knife to his left, formed a fist with his right, and landed a solid blow to her stomach. She doubled over and fell to her knees. He grabbed her hair and hauled her back to her feet. He let go and slapped her hard and watched as her cheek turned dull red.