by Susan Conley
Thunder rolled. Lightning flashed. A mist slithered up slowly from the bowls of the earth, circling Bridget and shackling her feet. The silver fog undulated, coiling and wrapping around her body like a snake. Inch by agonizing inch it swallowed her like a python downs its prey. Her screams for mercy fell on deaf ears.
As the sparks settled and the smoke dissipated into the cold night breeze, the amulet fell from its core and landed on the ground. Abby frantically searched for Jack.
“Not possible,” she whispered, turning completely around, first one way and then the other. And that’s when Abby realized what Bridget had done. She had not killed Jack. Bridget had sent him back. Back to the past? Back to the same place Abby had just sent her?
She fell to her knees. “No, no, no,” she sobbed.
Maxine knelt beside Abby and put both arms around her.
“My, God, I didn’t think … it’s just that one minute Jack was here and the next he was gone. He dove between Bridget and me. To save me.”
Patting Abby on the back and holding her close, Maxine listened without speaking.
“I’ve never felt fury like that before. It just took over. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see. I don’t even know what spell I used. It all happened so fast. All I knew was that I thought Bridget had killed him right before my eyes.” Weeping, she rocked back and forth in Maxine’s arms.
“Hush now,” the older woman soothed.
“What have I done, Maxine? What in God’s name have I done?”
“You protected innocent people from Bridget Bishop’s wrath. The Lord only knows what she would have done if you hadn’t stopped her.” Maxine leaned back and held Abby at arms’ length. In a staccato tone laced with sorrow and venom, she spoke each emphatic word with clarity and distinction. “And you banished the monster who drowned my daughter. That’s what you did.”
Even in the moonlight, Abby saw the anguish and loss in Maxine’s eyes as the normally staid and staunch woman let go for just an instant, and the tears began to flow. “I’m so sorry about Sarah, Maxine.” And she was.
“You will never know how much what you did tonight means to me, and I thank you for that.”
They sat that way for a moment. Both reflecting. Both grieving. Finally, it was Maxine who loosened her grip and cleared her throat. “That was such a long time ago. And life goes on.” She swiped both cheeks with her palms and sat up a little straighter. “I loved Jack like a son, but do not blame yourself for tonight.”
“But — ”
“No buts,” Maxine ordered. “I had such a bad feeling when I came here that I couldn’t force myself to leave.” Shaking her head, she reached over and picked up the amulet. “If you want to cast blame, what about me? Why didn’t I speak up about everything? Why didn’t I try to find you sooner?” Her voice, like her questions, was deliberate as she placed the necklace over Abby’s head and helped her to her feet.
“It’s not your fault,” Abby insisted.
Maxine looked her squarely in the eye. “And it is not yours.”
“So, no one’s to blame, but Jack’s just gone forever?” Abby asked. “Is that the way it is?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Unaware of the skitter of animals making their way back into the cemetery, Maxine linked arms with Abby as they made their way back toward the iron gated entrance.
“What about the amulet?” Abby stopped and faced her in the moonlight. She grabbed the necklace at her throat and held it tight. She waited a beat … but it only felt like a cool, smooth stone. No pulse. No heat. “Is the power gone?”
Maxine shook her head in sorrow. “I’m sorry, Abby, I don’t know that either.”
A single tear trickled down Abby’s cheek and pooled on the amulet as the two women walked away arm-in-arm. The full moon illuminated their grief stricken faces. The breeze stopped. Not a leaf rustled nor a night creature stirred. Eerie quiet screamed all around them.
And that’s when Abby felt it. The hint of warmth on her chest. The slight electrical pulse in her veins. The undeniable echo of a distant heartbeat against her skin.
“Stop.” She jerked Maxine’s arm. Eyes wide Abby faced her. Afraid to speak another word, breathe another breath.
Eyes fixed on Abby’s necklace, Maxine stood speechless as well. Enveloped in the blackness of the night and what felt like some ethereal void, she pointed to the amulet that had begun to shimmer in the darkness. That solitary gesture answered Abby’s unspoken question.
“Oh, my God,” Abby whispered. “It’s Jack.”
Maxine’s eyes widened. “What?”
“He’s not gone yet.” Hoarse with hope, she gave Maxine’s hand a squeeze. She felt the older woman return the gesture and saw her tears reflected in the moonlight.
“Try, Child,” was all Maxine said. “It’s all you can do.”
• • •
Pulled and twirled, spun and twisted, Jack’s eyes opened as he was ripped from the cemetery grounds and yanked through a gaping, black hole. Sulfur assaulted his nostrils, blurring his vision. Not recognizable time. Nor identifiable space. But some obscure netherworld. The past? No matter. His only thought was to thank God that Abby was safe. This time he had saved Abby.
Lost in a swirling, ebony void, Jack’s instinct to fight or die trying kicked in. He fought against the downward pull with all his strength, punching the air, kicking and cursing. After finding Abby again. After saving her this time. He would be damned if they would end like this. He had to find his way back to the woman he loved more than life itself.
• • •
With a quick nod to Maxine, Abby planted her feet shoulder’s width apart. Was she responding to ancient memories or acting on instinct? It didn’t matter. She held the amulet in one hand and raised her other palm to the sky. The breeze began to stir again, and her skirt billowed around both ankles--softly at first. As the stone warmed in her grasp, the wind ebbed and flowed with each rhythmic pulse. Nearby pine trees began to sway ever-so-slightly. Giant oaks groaned and creaked, their branches reaching skyward like searching, wooden fingers.
Abby stretched and extended and opened herself to absorb every ounce of energy the night had to offer. Beseeching the full moon, she breathed in the crisp, cold wind. As lightening flashed across the cloudless sky, thunder rumbled from nowhere, mimicking the pulse of the stone in her hand.
She took one deep breath, then closed her eyes. October 31 was Samhain — the night when the veils separating the worlds were at their thinnest. On this date the souls of those departed could peer through and permeate the screen to commune with those still on this earth. So, why couldn’t someone caught in between--like Jack--be reached as well?
Calling on the very essence of her existence, Abby turned inward to the core of her being. She had to find the thread that connected her to Jack. The undeniable tie that bound them in the past. The connectivity that had survived for over three hundred years only to join them again in the present.
“I dedicate this night to Hecate, Goddess of the Underworld. Witch Queen of the Night, bless the soul of my beloved departed one as well as my own.” Her voice intoned with an ancient melodic rhythm.
“Keeper of the secrets of life and death, open the gate to this shadowy realm. Turn my failure and my fear into knowledge and inspiration in the Caldron of your Eternal Fire.”
Once again, Abby centered herself.
“To cast away evil was my intent, yet my beloved paid the price. To keep away evil I repent, my blood has turned to ice. Bring back Jackson, let him pass. Do not make him pay. A working lasso is all I ask. I demand to have my way. As I speak, so mote it be.”
The words were barely spoken when Abby’s arms extended overhead and circled above her in the darkness. She realized her fingers now gripped a rope — of sorts. The line that had materialized seemingly out of t
hin air, felt like heavy, prickly twine or cable. Prayers answered, she called on every ounce of strength in her body, mind and spirit. Arms outspread, she twirled it once then heaved the mysterious cable with all her mite toward the still smoldering circle where moments ago Jack had stood. As the lariat crossed the misty threshold and disappeared into the abyss, the weight shifted so hard in her hands that she fell to her knees. Holding tight, she prayed her strength would last.
• • •
In a feral fight for his life, Jack brawled like a mad man. Lashing. Thrashing. Cursing. As he plunged through time, punching and wrestling, something that felt like a stiff, rope snapped past him and smashed into one wrist. Flesh stung as the skin on the back of his hand split. Warm blood trickled into the cuff of his shirt.
“What the hell?”
Through gritted teeth he writhed and flailed until he caught hold of --whatever it was--the only tactile surface he had been able to find. Not giving a damn what it was, he snagged the would-be lifeline. And, thank God, the contact felt solid. The moment his grip took hold his downward spiral screeched to a halt with a jolt so hard it jarred his teeth and snapped his head backwards.
Sweat stinging both eyes, Jack didn’t miss a beat but swung his other arm around hard to grab the tether with his free hand. He hung there, but only for a second, to catch his breath. Biceps burning, he focused all his attention on climbing, hand over fist, to pull himself up as far as the line would take him. If he had to, he would battle the demons of Hell to reach Abby again.
• • •
The instant Abby felt the rope snap taut, she struggled to her feet. She would tether the rope to the trunk of a nearby tree in case she did not have enough strength to hold Jack, much less pull him to safety.
Maxine joined her and side-by-side they heaved backward with all their might. Together they edged away from the abyss and toward the tree.
• • •
Inch by inch Jack worked his way up the rope. Never stopping. Never questioning. Never doubting. And that’s when he saw … something … overhead. Was it the night sky? A sprinkle of stars? The full moon?
Panting now, Jack used his last ounce of strength to claw his way out of the bottomless pit. His hand felt a gust of fresh air … Abby … above ground air that meant he had almost made it back to the surface. Abby. Relief coupled with exhaustion washed over him.
Hand over hand.
Up. Up.
Until something shackled his leg.
“Son of a bitch!”
Desperate hands snagged his left ankle nearly causing him to lose his grip. Sharp fingernails clawed through his sock and dug into his flesh. Blood red nails … he was certain of it.
“Jack!!!”
He heard Bridget’s shrill cry echo through the darkness.
“Help me!”
Jack kicked and flailed, but her fingers only held on tighter.
“Jack, don’t leave me!”
Jack’s grip slipped a notch as the rope started to swing. His palms flamed. He was losing his hold. Along with life as he knew it. And most of all — Abby. Without hesitation he took one last ragged breath and stomped the iron clad grasp with his right foot.
• • •
Bridget’s voice sliced through Abby’s head like a knife. This could not be happening. Not again. Maintaining her hold on the lasso, Abby spoke quickly, the incantation rising from the deepest well of her heart.
“Rescue Jack. May Bridget be spurned. My love comes back. Let Bridget burn. As I speak, so mote it be.”
The rope went slack. She and Maxine tumbled backward onto the ground, the flaccid cord still in their hands. Dear God, she’d failed. She’d failed Jack. Her heart screamed as her voice could not.
Mechanically, Abby sat up then pulled Maxine to a sitting position. The cool breeze settled around them as the witching hour drew to an end. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. And darkness regained control of the night.
She felt Maxine’s arms embrace her.
“So close,” Abby murmured against Maxine’s shoulder. “How could I get that close and fail again?”
“You did not fail.” Maxine extended her arms, leaning Abby back to face her. “If you couldn’t save Jack, no one else could have.” She pulled the younger woman close again.
“Bridget won.” Abby’s voice was little more than a whisper. “My God, have I lost him forever this time?”
Abby felt Maxine stiffen. And why wouldn’t she? Bridget had drowned Maxine’s only daughter and after more than three hundred years, she was still taking Maxine’s loved ones from her.
“Abby.” Maxine’s voice quivered.
“I’m so sorry--”
“No.”
“Yes. I let you down--”
Maxine cut Abby off by shaking her hard.
Confused and hurt, Abby blinked. “I said I’m sorry … ” Then she followed Maxine’s zombie-like gaze to the misty abyss through which Jack had disappeared.
“Oh, my God,” Abby stammered.
There, only a few yards away, a hand groped the grass. Followed by another.
Scrambling first to her knees and then to her feet, Abby yelled, “Jack!”
Both women rushed to pull Jack free. Straining and tugging they inched him out of the abyss and onto the ground. Piled in a heap, barely able to breathe, the three clung to one another.
“Bridget?” Abby’s voice trembled.
“No worries.” Still panting, Jack managed a weak grin. “She’s gone.”
Taking a second for his meaning to soak in, Abby still had to echo, “She’s finally gone?”
“Yes,” he managed. “And this time I saved you.”
“And I saved you.” Abby kissed his forehead. Pulling Maxine close, she added, “And we could never have done it without you.”
Staggering to their feet, they watched as the gaping hole swirled and churned into nothingness until only earth remained. Solid and grass covered. An ordinary cemetery plot shadowed by moonlight.
“Ashes to ashes.” Maxine’s tone was as dry as the leaves under foot … until she spit on the ground where the abyss had occurred. “And let the Devil have her.”
• • •
Later, entwined in Jack’s arms, Abby listened to the gentle waves of his breathing as he slept, letting the rhythm wash over her joy-filled heart. With wonder, she cradled the amulet in her hands. She gasped. There, in the center of the stone, two tears had joined together to form one perfect heart. Tears bound together forever. In the morning she would tell Jack. Together, forever, she whispered to the fading night.
About the Author
Chardy Walker Lieb has worked as a nonfiction writer for a Midwest publications firm. Some of her most memorable assignments include an interview with a Russian trade delegation that toured the United States on a technological exchange mission; a “contract killer” feature story; and a commemorative writing project, distributed worldwide, which recognized Garth Brooks as the fastest-selling recording artist in history.
Despite working in the nonfiction field, she has always been an avid reader and was never able to shake her true love of fiction. Yearning to challenge her creativity and unleash her imagination, she switched to writing what she’s always loved to read and published Yesterday’s Bride for Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Chardy lives in Illinois with her husband, a fourteen-year veteran detective, who serves as her “personal expert” on police-related research. Her son also serves as a “daily reminder” of the ever-changing, constantly developing human psyche.
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Savannah Sacrifice by Danica Winters
Love of Her Lives
Sharon Clare
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
> Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2012 by Sharon Bernas
ISBN 10: 1-4405-5424-2
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5424-7
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5425-0
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5425-4
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art 123rf.com
For my daughter Megan who has loved magic in stories since she was a little girl.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Acknowledgments
Also Available
Prologue
Scotland, 1907
Colm knocked the front door shut with his foot. “You could have been killed, woman! What the devil were you thinking?” He slipped Bethany off his shoulder to the polished pine floor and steadied her with a grip to her forearm.