She pulled the Grimoire back into her lap and opened it, flicking through a few random pages, trying to find some sort of spell to empower the hunting knives she’d asked Jake to bring her. She knew she could conjure Hell fire and that it would destroy a Hell hound. The problem was although she’d already killed two of them, they didn’t know how many were actually in the woods protecting Boothe’s hollow. She would be focused on stopping her father and she didn’t have time to kill any more hounds which meant she needed a way for Jake and Theo to defend themselves. It was obvious from experience regular bullets wouldn’t get the job done. The hounds were creatures of the Hell dimensions which meant finding some kind of supernatural weapon to kill them.
She rubbed her eyes tiredly and looked down at the open book on her lap.
‘I don’t suppose you want to help me out here do you,’ she murmured in frustration, ‘I really need a weapon that can kill Hell hounds.’
Suddenly the words on the page began to swirl and churn until they rearranged themselves. Olivia’s mouth fell open; the handwriting was slightly different to Hester’s and somehow older, more archaic in its speech, but she didn’t dwell on that slight discrepancy as she read on, a knot of excitement forming in her gut. Whether or not it was Hester finding a way across the veil to reach out and help her, one thing was clear, it was telling her exactly how to create a weapon that could kill a creature of the Hell dimensions. Propping the book up she retrieved the two hunting knives and set to work.
It was strange, it wasn’t like any spell she was used to, in fact it was more like instructions than a spell and if she was reading it right it would only work for someone who could conjure Hell fire. It was as if the book was tailor made just for her. Shaking the thought from her mind she set the candles out and they burst into flames. Casting the circle she laid out the knives in front of her. She could feel the low murmur of her power filling the circle, overlaid by a stronger older power. Suddenly the room was flooded with the scent of the forest, the edges of the room blurred and she could see vines of ivy and night blooming jasmine winding up the walls across the rows and rows of books. The hard floor and rug beneath her feet softened and became springy and when she looked down she was standing on a carpet of soft green grass, speckled with tiny white daisies.
She watched in fascination as a patch of grass in front of her split open and thick dark roots speared upwards catching the book and lifting it they swirled and twisted until pausing about four feet from the ground, cradling the book like a bookstand.
She felt the warmth of a summer breeze behind her and she felt a presence. When she turned she beheld the form of the goddess Diana.
‘Mother,’ she whispered bowing her head reverently.
Diana smiled and Olivia felt her heart lift. This was the first time she had encountered the Goddess when her body had not been injured or pumped full of adrenalin. Now she was able to feel the full effect of being in her presence and it was like being allowed to come home after a very long painful journey.
‘Daughter,’ Diana’s voice was low and musical.
Olivia watched silently as Diana pulled a chain from the neck of her tunic and slipped it over her head. Placing it in Olivia’s hand she smiled. When she unfurled her fist she found a triple moon, the full moon at the centre was a bright smooth moonstone hanging from a silver chain. Either side of the moonstone were two smaller silver crescent moons.
‘For protection,’ Diana answered her unspoken question.
‘Thank you,’ she replied softly, drawing the chain over her head.
Diana retrieved the two knives and placed them in Olivia’s hands.
‘You know what to do,’ she spoke quietly her voice as soothing as a lullaby, ‘the book is only for guidance, trust yourself.’
Olivia took the weapons in her hands staring at them, feeling the solid weight of them in her palms. She could feel the Goddess beside her watching with interest, but all her focus was on the blades. They reflected back the dancing flames of the fireplace which strangely still burned merrily, nestled amongst the vines and leaves. She could feel the low hum of her power pulsing just beneath her skin. Before when she’d reached for her magic it had been an effort, this time it slipped through her fluidly. She called forth the Hell fire, it was intimate and seductive. She could feel the dark edges of it flickering at her consciousness but she didn’t fear it, she embraced it and allowed it to flow through her body like silk. She watched as it glowed through her skin flowing down her arms like dark blue veins until it reached her hands. It flowed from her like ribbons of deep blue ink winding around and around the two knives. The plain brown common hilts turned to black and shone like highly polished jet. The stainless steel blades began to change until they were a dark blue black; she could feel the strength in the blades as if she could see each tiny molecule transforming.
‘Make it burn,’ Diana whispered in her ear.
At her words Olivia released the heat letting it roar through her veins like a sapphire inferno. Her hands burst into flames, consuming the blades as she was lost to the magic. She could hear the words echoing in her mind, an ancient language, and she barely recognised her own voice as the words rose unbidden to her lips. She didn’t see the Goddess step back with a satisfied smile curving her lips. All she knew was the fire in her hands, a writhing primordial fire burning brighter and hotter, the blue black flames roaring higher until they reached flash point.
Olivia dropped to her knees, exhausted and dragged in deep lungfuls of air as her body trembled. When she looked up the room was once again her cosy, somewhat dusty little library. The grass, the vines, the goddess were all gone and she was once again alone in front of the snapping fire, with Hester’s Grimoire now closed and lying innocently on the rug in front of her.
Looking down into her hands, she studied the knives. Now completely cool to the touch they were unique. The hilts were polished onyx; the blades were a strange metallic blue black inscribed with a language she didn’t understand. She couldn’t read the words but she knew she’d spoken them from her own lips. She turned the blades in the dim light and the words glowed with a dim phosphorescent blue.
Closing the circle she sent her thanks to the Goddess and wrapped the blades tightly in velvet cloths she’d found in amongst Aunt Evie’s things. Pulling the amulet over her head she sat down and studied it. It seemed the two smaller silver crescent moons either side of the moonstone were attached with tiny silver clasps, which meant they could be separated and mounted on their own chains. Good, she thought silently, she could give one each to Theo and Jake for protection and keep the moonstone for herself. She’d go online later and buy silver chains for them, thank God for twenty four hour delivery.
Well, she mused to herself as she sunk down onto the couch, that solved two problems. Theo and Jake now not only had a weapon each to defend themselves but also amulets to protect them against her father’s powers. That just left one problem, how the hell was she going to stop her father?
Despite everything she didn’t want to kill him, it went against everything she believed in and even after everything he’d done, everything he’d taken from her he was still her father. If she could render him powerless somehow, Jake could arrest him and take him back into custody after that it would be up to the authorities to charge him with the murders. Maybe a binding spell, she thought absently as she picked up the Grimoire and once again began searching through the pages.
The next two days passed in a blur of activity. She managed to get the chains for the crescent moons and found a suitable binding spell. Unfortunately for her she didn’t have Theo’s eidetic memory and had spent hours memorising the spell word for word. She had one shot at stopping her dad and she knew she couldn’t afford to mispronounce even one word.
As night fell the night before the solstice, so did the snow once again. Standing in her library gazing out of the window at the soft fat flakes falling fast, she breathed heavily. It felt lik
e she had a great weight pressing down on her chest and no matter what she did it wouldn’t budge. Tomorrow she was going to have to face her father and stop him from raising a demon. She was afraid, afraid of failing, afraid of not being good enough and most of all…afraid of seeing him again. Whenever she was face to face with him the years simply fell away and she was eight years old again, looking up at the man she had loved most in the whole world…the man who had destroyed her whole world.
This was no good; she was just winding herself into a huge ball of nerves. Picking up her ipod from the desk she scrolled through her playlists and placed it in its docking station. Her shoulders relaxed and she blew out a breath, closing her eyes as the strains of music began to fill the still oppressive air, and the voice of Carrie Underwood washed over her.
She knew he was there before she felt Theo’s arms wrap around her.
‘You’re frowning,’ he spoke softly beside her ear as she leaned back into his embrace, each tightly wound muscle slowly uncoiling one by one.
‘I just..’ she shrugged helplessly, unable to find the words.
‘Don’t think about it,’ he turned her in his arms so she was gazing up into his face, ‘tomorrow will come soon enough; we’re as prepared as we can be. Tonight it’s just you and me.’
A small smile tugged at her lips as she watched him tilt his head, listening to the music.
‘What music is this?’
‘Not the music you’re used to that’s for sure,’ she smiled fully, ‘this song is called ‘Like I’ll never love you again.’
He stood still listening to the words.
‘I like it,’ he murmured.
Olivia took his hands tugging him away from the window and into the centre of the room.
‘Dance with me,’ she whispered.
‘I don’t know how,’ he frowned.
‘Here,’ she said softly, ‘I’ll show you.’
She took his hand and wrapped it around her waist as he pulled her in closer, her hand snaked around his neck to toy with the slight curls at the nape of his neck, her other hand entwining with his.
She showed him how to move and after a few hesitant steps they began to sway together, circling the room as if they’d danced together a thousand times before. The snow fell silently outside the window to blanket the house and for those precious few moments the world stopped and held its breath. They existed only in their own little pocket of time, wrapped up in each other, unaware of the golden coloured threads spilling around them and causing the room to glow a soft warm gold.
Chapter 27.
The dawn broke pale and unrelenting, creeping through Olivia’s bedroom window to dance across the floor. She lay perfectly still, watching the fiery red and gold blaze across the sky through the open drapes and her heart lay like lead in her chest.
‘You’re doing it again,’ Theo mumbled as his arm snaked around her pulling her in close.
‘What?’ she rolled over to face him.
‘Thinking too loudly,’ he smiled, his eyes still closed. ‘I can hear you thinking all the way over here.’
With her fingertips she traced the silver moon hanging from his neck, the metal warmed by his bare skin. He caught her hand and rolled her onto her back, leaning over her and taking her lips in a soft kiss.
‘Talk to me,’ he breathed as they broke the kiss, ‘I don’t like it when you’re sad.’
‘I’m not sad,’ she traced his jaw absently, ‘I just…it’s hard, knowing that today I have to face my dad.’
He propped his head up on his hand and watched her intently.
‘You don’t have to do it alone though.’
‘I know,’ she blew out the breath she’d unconsciously been holding, ‘it just hurts to look at him, knowing what he has taken from me and wondering…’
‘Wondering what?’
‘If he ever really loved me at all; if it was all just another lie.’
‘I can’t answer that for you Livy love,’ he tucked her hair behind her ear.
‘Don’t call me that,’ she pulled away irritably.
He pinned her down gently.
‘I will call you that, because it’s the truth. I know you’re hurting and you’re scared but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you and I’m going to keep telling you until you believe it.’
A hot uncomfortable ball of emotion burned in the back of her throat as she blinked back the tears.
‘I don’t want to love you,’ she whispered painfully.
‘Then just let me love you,’ he murmured against her lips as he took her under.
She knew he loved her, she could feel it in every soft teasing glide of his fingers, in every stroke of his tongue and every brush of his lips. She couldn’t say the words he deserved to hear and she hated herself for it. He slipped between her legs parting her thighs and as it did every time he touched her, every thought drained from her mind except him. There was nothing else. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him in as close as she could and when she felt him press inside her she arched, moaning against his mouth.
Theo hung on, clutching onto what little sanity remained, when he felt her surround him. She was truly everything. As they moved together he absorbed every movement, every sound she made. It was all his, even if she didn’t know it. He knew she couldn’t say the words, knew that her fear was holding a part of herself back from him and he ached for her; ached to hear the words tumbled breathlessly from her lips while he was sunk deep inside her, but he knew she wasn’t ready. She may not have been able to tell him she loved him but he knew it, she showed him in a thousand little ways she wasn’t even aware of. What she couldn’t tell him with her mouth she showed him with her body. He could wait for the words, after all he’d waited three hundred years for her; he could wait a little while longer.
Mac hung up the phone and frowned. He had the uncomfortable feeling something was going on. After making her official statement the day after she had been released from the hospital, Olivia West had been dodging his calls. He’d even driven out to the Stick House to see her but she’d told him she was busy working. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how to read people and she was definitely trying to keep something from him. Now Jake had mysteriously called in sick, Jake was never sick. Mac had gone over his file, as he had with all the staff files when he’d temporarily taken over the department, and Jake had never been sick a day in his life. Now he suddenly had the flu and was not answering his phone. Neither was his sister Louisa or his girlfriend, the one he insisted wasn’t his girlfriend, who just happened to be Olivia’s lawyer Erica Kelly. All of a sudden it was like total radio silence and all his hackles were up and tingling. They knew something and they were purposely keeping him in the dark.
In the week since he’d fled, there had been no sign of Thomas Walcott; the guy was completely off the grid. Mac had no idea how he was surviving with no money and no supplies but he had definitely not resurfaced. Mac was almost expecting to find his body in the woods somewhere from hypothermia or exposure. The temperature had plummeted and winter had firmly set in, there was no way someone could survive in the woods under those conditions without specialist equipment unless, Mac mused, he’d fled Mercy completely. He’d put out an APB to all the surrounding law enforcement agencies but nothing, all he could do now was wait for him to turn up alive or dead. The only thing he did know for sure was that, if Thomas Walcott was still alive, he wouldn’t stray far from Mercy, he was too obsessed with Olivia West and her father.
Which brought his thoughts back to Olivia once more, what the hell were they up to? His fingers tapped a restless staccato on the desk, as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. They’d had confirmation the third victim had been Lucas Campbell; they’d also managed to ID the fourth victim. The guy’s name was Daryl Ward, an independent Graphic designer and artist living in Mercy. The weird part was he also knew Olivia; when she’d first arrived back in Mercy she’d spoken with him briefly
about designing the illustrations for the children's history book she was working on. She’d even confirmed it herself on the one brief occasion he’d managed to actually speak with her. That meant she was connected however loosely to all of the victims. He didn’t think for one moment she was the killer, but it could mean the killer was somehow connected to her.
Suddenly uneasy he picked up the phone and called through to the county sheriffs department to check they’d assigned at least two guards to watch Olivia until Walcott was back in custody only to be told that he himself had cancelled that order earlier in the day.
Scooping up his keys from the desk, Mac abruptly stood and pulled on his coat. Now he knew there was definitely something going on and there was only one way to find out what. He was just going to have to drive out to the West place and have himself a little nosy around.
‘Oh good you’re here,’ Olivia opened the door and stepped back allowing Jake to enter, ‘does anyone suspect?’
He shook his head.
‘I called the sheriffs office earlier pretending to be Mac and got them to recall the guards so we’re all clear. Erica’s at my place, she’ll cover for me in case anyone decides to check on me.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘The bare minimum,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think she’s ready to deal with demons and magic just yet.’
She nodded in understanding.
‘Theo’s waiting in the library.’
Jake followed her through the hall and into her favourite room, reaching down and petting the fur ball trying to climb his leg.
‘Beau,’ she whistled for him and he scrambled to catch up with her.
‘Jake,’ Theo nodded in greeting as he entered the room.
‘Is everything ready then?’ Jake asked.
‘Here,’ Olivia handed him a small silver crescent moon on a chain, hanging from her fingers, ‘put this on.’
Mercy (The Guardians Series 1) Page 43