Awakening

by Catrina Burgess

  He was going to teach me. I was going to get the thing I wanted most. I should have felt triumph, but I only felt fear and a sinking feeling that maybe even now it was too late to save his sister.

  He grabbed my arm. “We need to find somewhere safe to go. It’ll be light in a couple of hours. We can do it tomorrow at the witching hour--we can perform the first ritual.”

  “How many rituals are there?” Darla’s words came back to me. Whatever these rituals were, they weren’t going to be easy. They were something she was afraid of.

  There was an intensity in his eyes I had never seen before. “Three. Normally candidates perform the rituals over a full year, sometimes longer. People learn to wield their power slowly, gradually building until they’re in true possession of their gifts, but we don’t have that kind of time.” His gripped tightened on my arm. “We can do the rituals over the next three nights. It’s crazy, and as far as I know it’s never been done, but we don’t have a choice.”

  “And if they hurt Darla before I finish the rituals?” I was suddenly afraid to hear his answer.

  “After you told me about your family’s death I looked it up on the internet. It wasn’t hard to find. Mass murder makes the headlines. It probably didn’t mean anything to you at the time, but they killed your family on the night of a full moon. When I fought them, most of the men were just wizards. They had some power, but it wasn’t strong enough to overtake me. But one of them, his power, it was like mine.”

  I forced the words out, “He was a death dealer?”

  Luke turned his face away. “He was, but stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen. For him to be that strong, he has to have been doing things…rituals that are hundreds of years old. Things that are no longer done. Things my people now condemn. The timing of the murders…I think it was a sacrifice.”

  I could feel the blood draining from my face. A cold seeped into my body and chilled me to the very bone. “A sacrifice…”

  “A human sacrifice. They slashed your father’s throat, most likely with a knife specially prepared for the ritual.”

  My father was a human sacrifice. I was horrified at his answer. I stood staring at him speechless.

  “They might do the same to Darla, but not until the time is right for the ritual. If I’m right, and they plan on using her to power an old spell, it’s six days until the next dark moon.” He reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders. The expression in his eyes was one of desperation. “I can’t do this alone. I wasn’t strong enough on my own. You saw what happened. If you become one of us, even if you aren’t at full strength, you may be able to help pull some of the focus off of me, so I can try and work more powerful spells. We may be able to hold our own long enough to free Darla. With your help, we might have a chance.”

  I looked around at the wreckage. Furniture had been overturned and smashed--there were burn marks on the floor and rug. “Do we do the rituals here?”

  “No. We need to leave here and go somewhere safe. Somewhere where we can get rested and ready for tomorrow night.” He reached out and grabbed me and hugged me tight again. “Darla will be okay. We’ll get her back. Everything will be okay.”

  I wanted to believe it, I really did, but in the depths of my soul I knew I didn’t.

  Chapter Five

  The First Ritual

  Luke decided it was too dangerous to travel at night. We didn’t want to risk running into the Triads, so we’d spent the night sitting upstairs, wrapped in blankets, waiting with trepidation for the bad guys to show up. In theory, we were to sleep in shifts, ready to flee out the window and down the fire escape at the slightest sign of danger. But in reality I couldn’t sleep, I just stared out into the dark playing the events of the day over and over in my head. Was Darla still alive? I prayed she was. The rituals--would I, could I survive them? And if I did what would I become? There had never been a healer turned death dealer before. My parents would have thought such a thing an abomination. But here I was, willingly walking down this path, turning myself into who knows what. And once I become this mythic being, this abomination would anyone accept me? Or would I be feared worse than Luke’s kind? The woman in the alley had tried to stab him just because his people communed with the dead. Once I became one of Luke’s kind, what would the superstitious populous try to do to me? The thought sent a chill down my back.

  * * * *

  The sun came up. We’d survived the night. We started gathering together what we could so we could high-tail it out of there. Luke stuffed an old green army duffel bag full of clothes and whatever items he could find for his spells that weren’t smashed into bits on the floor of the shop. His face looked like a dark storm about to break loose as he wandered around the torn up shop.

  I grabbed some of Darla’s clothes and packed them into a pink suitcase I found at the bottom of her closet.

  We headed out into the street and hailed a taxi cab.

  I slid into the seat next to him. “Where are we going?”

  He reached out and took my hand in his. “My cousin Pagan’s place. Pagan won’t mind under the circumstances, and I know she’ll have everything I need for the rituals.”

  I realized we’d taken a cab to the healer’s place. “Don’t you own a car?”

  “One of my cousins borrowed my truck for the trip. They take a lot of tents and camping equipment. I’m the only one with a truck in the family. My uncle took his car, and Darla isn’t driving yet. Uncle says he’s going to get her something old, built like a tank but reliable for her sixteenth birthday.” At the mention of his sister's name, his eyes filled with an incredible sadness. He looked at me and seemed to shake himself out of the moment. He gave me a small smile. “So it’s hoofing it or cabs. Unless you want to take the bus?”

  “Cab works for me.” He was distracted and worried about Darla. When he talked to me, I could see the lines of worry etched on his face. He might be talking to me, but his thoughts were clearly with his sister. I squeezed his hand trying to offer what little comfort I could. I knew there was nothing I could say to make the situation better.

  My hand slid down to the seat, and my fingers grazed across something sticky. I had a moment of regret about leaving my car behind. It was possible that people after me knew my car by sight, and I hadn’t wanted to make the job of tracking me down any easier. I turned and watched the passing landscape through the window. We were heading out of town, past the suburbs and into the country.

  “Your cousin, she doesn’t live in town?” I asked my voice full of surprise.

  “No, she refuses to be a city girl. She’s an architect. She converts old barns into houses.”

  We drove and drove some more. I lost track of time, but the further we went the more rural the countryside got. Fences lined the road, cows grazed in pastures, and farmhouses and barns riddled the landscape. It was beautiful country. At another time, I would have enjoyed exploring the countryside, but at the moment I was bruised, scared and tired. I tried to keep my mind focused on the passing landscape, but thoughts of the rituals kept searing across my brain. Would I survive the first ritual? And if I did what were the other rituals I would have to endure? A part of me wanted to demand more details from Luke, but knowing brought fear, and I didn’t want to be afraid. I wanted to have the courage to go through with them. The cab turned off the main highway and headed down a dirt road. We passed a creek and a few rolling hills until finally the cab came to a stop in front of a large red barn.

  I grabbed my stuff, and we got out. Luke paid the cab driver and the cab took off.

  “Pagan keeps a key in a fake rock for emergencies. She’s absent minded. She loses her keys a lot.” Luke gave me a ghost of a smile. “Pagan left her car. The keys for it have to be inside somewhere.”

  I nodded my head and followed him up a gray brick path.

  Luke retrieved the key to the house, and we walked to the large white framed door. When he opened the door, and we walked in I was speechless. The place was breathtaking.


  The barn looked like the others we’d passed on the road, but someone had converted it from a place holding animals and hay, into a luxurious living area. It was a big wide-open space with high ceilings.

  My eyes wandered around the living room. A large gray carpet filled the area, and the biggest leather L shaped couch I had ever seen dominated the room. Antiques were scattered around the room. A humongous stone fireplace covered one wall. On the other side of the room a rustic dining table that looked to seat twenty sat next to an old-fashioned kitchen with a large red stove.

  “This is unbelievable,” I said.

  Luke looked around the place a look of pride on his face. “One day I plan to have her convert one for me. When I’m older, settled and married.”

  “And this older you, is he going to run the magic shop?”

  His voice was serious when he answered, “No, it’s my uncle’s place. He doesn’t have any kids, and I know he’d like to leave it to one of us, but it’s not the kind of thing I can see myself doing forever. Darla, she loves the shop. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up running it one day.”

  “If not running the shop, what’ll you do?”

  “This older me? I’m not sure.” He gave me a smile. “How about the older you? What plans do you have for her?”

  The words, be a healer had started to come out of my mouth, but I stopped them. I had lost my dream, and I honestly had no goal now but revenge. And what would I do if I fulfilled that one destiny? There would be no going back to the clan once I became a death dealer. No one would be welcoming me with open arms once I was part of the phoenix guild and that was assuming the guild let me in. Would the phoenix guild even want me? Even if they wanted me, could they accept me? And if they did, what kind of wrath would having me around bring down upon them?

  Healers lived by the mantra, ‘do no harm.’ It was part of the sacred oath, and once you were a healer you were one for your entire lifetime, no one ever turned their back on the profession. I knew for sure none of my kind had ever dared to do something stupid like ask to be trained in the dark arts. And what would my clan’s reaction be once they found out what I had done, the lengths I had gone to for my revenge? I would be shunned at the least, most likely imprisoned.

  I could change my name and go underground, but what did I know of living on the fringe of society. I had always had a stable, loving home. My family was not rich, but I had never gone without food or a roof over my head. What would I do once this was all over? I had no idea. And maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about it, because maybe I wouldn’t make it. If the first ritual didn’t kill me, the men after me just might. I shivered at the thought.

  Luke saw me shiver. “It’s cold in here, I’ll get a fire going.”

  All I knew for sure was, right now at this moment, I was glad to be by Luke’s side. I took comfort in the sight of him. Maybe together we could pull it off and save his sister and survive. What other choice did we have but to try?

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Starved.”

  “I’ll work on the fire. Can you see if there’s any food in the house?” Luke pointed across the room. “Try the cupboards and see if you can find us anything to eat.”

  The fridge was empty except for a large container of ketchup and mustard. The cupboards were mostly bare, but I found a dozen tins of ravioli and jars of green olives in the pantry.

  Luke joined me in the kitchen. “I got the fire started. It should start to warm up soon. There’s no central heat, and it looks to be a chilly night.” He reached around me and opened the nearest drawer. He pulled out a can opener. “The plates are in the cabinet next to the stove.”

  I nuked the ravioli in the microwave while he set out dishes on the long polished wood dining table.

  I walked over and set down a plate piled high with ravioli in front of him.

  He took the plate and nodded his head in thanks. “Pagan’s been out of state doing some work. I don’t think she was expecting company. I found the keys to her car on a nail by the phone, so tomorrow morning we can drive to the local market and get some supplies.”

  I sat down and started eating. I finished the last bite on my plate and asked, “Are we doing the ritual here?”

  “Not the first one. We have to do it in a place just over the pasture on the other side of the creek.”

  Pastures and creeks. We were definitely in the boondocks.

  “And we do it at the witching hour?” Outside in the cold at night, I was not looking forward to whatever was going to happen.

  He didn’t meet my gaze. “After midnight. I know you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Neither did I. I think we should try to get some sleep now. It’s going to be a tough night.”

  I asked the question uppermost on my mind, “The rituals, are they really that bad?”

  His expression was grim. “I never wanted to get you into this situation.” Luke reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “They’re not easy, but my family has been doing it for centuries.”

  “And they’ve lived to talk about it?” My voice trembled as I asked the question.

  “Most have.”

  Most have. I didn’t like the sound of that. “You did it,” I whispered.

  He turned his face away and said in a quiet voice, “I did.” He picked up our plates and headed toward the kitchen. “We should get some sleep. You’re going to need all your strength for tonight.”

  “I’d like to take a hot shower.”

  He motioned toward the other side of the room. “The bathrooms over there. We never looked after your scrapes. I know Pagan has some bandages around here somewhere. When you’re done showering, I’ll see what I can find to bandage them up.”

  * * * *

  I took a long shower, allowing the hot water to run down my body. I changed into a pair of red jeans and a red and black flannel shirt. When I came out of the bathroom, Luke was sitting in the living room with a box of bandages, hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls on the table in front of him.

  “Sit down. Let get something on those deeper cuts.” He reached out and grabbed the cotton balls and peroxide.

  I sat down next to him and held out my arm. He dabbed some of the peroxide on my elbow. I winced.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “It stings.”

  He nodded his head and gently put a bandage across the gash.

  He put six bandages on various places on my calves and arms and then motioned toward my shirt. “Your shirt was torn last night. Is that scrape on your left shoulder bad?”

  Self-conscious, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt and lowered it off my shoulder.

  His fingers slid across my skin, and at his touch, I shivered.

  “Does that hurt?” he asked, his voice low.

  “No.” The problem was it felt too good. I could feel a blush spreading across my cheeks.

  He put a bandage across the gash and abruptly stood up. “All done.” Without looking at me, he motioned toward the bedroom. “You take the bed I’ll take the couch. I’ll get some blankets and be right back.”

  “Okay.” I watched him walk away and realized my fingers were trembling.

  I made my way across the living room and started opening up doors. I found a closet, another bathroom and the last door I tried opened into a bedroom.

  Pagan was definitely a romantic. In the room was a four poster bed with white sheer material draped across the top and dangling part way down the sides. Against one wall--a large white dresser with painted flowers on the front. Over on another wall--a smaller matching dresser sporting a large gilded mirror over the top. And a bay window had drapes down to the floor covered in the same flowers as the dresser. It was a comfortable room, but definitely a girly one.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I said making myself comfortable on the edge of the bed.

  Luke stood in the doorway his arms full of blankets and sheets. He pushed them into my arms and ma
de a quick retreat.

  “Goodnight,” I called to his retreating back.

  He lifted his arm in acknowledgement, but never turned back. I watched him close the door behind him.

  Light was streaming in the window. My body ached, and I knew I needed sleep, but my mind refused to turn off. Images of the look on Darla’s face as the man grabbed her and pinned her to the ground kept popping into my head.

  The room was chilly, so I pulled on a blue sweater. I walked over and opened the door, hoping some of the heat from the fireplace would make its way into the room. I forced myself to lie down and pulled a large white fluffy comforter over myself. I closed my eyes, but as I did, more images started to fill my mind. My father laying dead on the floor, my mother’s lifeless eyes staring up at me.

  Needing to get away from the horrific images, I got up. I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth as I went back into the living room.

  Luke was lying on the couch.

  “Are you asleep?” I asked.

  He sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to sleep alone. I’m still kind of freaked out.” I was scared, as much as I hated admitting it.

  His eyes widened for a moment and then he pushed the covers off and got up. He was shirtless in a pair of gray sweats.

  “I’m sorry…”

  He interrupted me before I could continue. “It’s cold in here, go back into the bedroom and I’ll be there in a second. I’m going to put another log on the fire.”

  I made my way back into bed, and a few minutes later he came in and settled down next to me. I turned toward him and he opened his arms. I laid my head down on his chest. He felt warm, and I finally felt safe.

  His hands started to caress my hair. “Sleep. I’m here. Everything is fine. Go to sleep.”