“She never lived her life,” I say, biting my lip. “She never got over what happened, never moved on. She’s been living in her own version of Purgatory for forty years.”
“No kidding.” Rebecca’s fingers hit the keyboard in an angry staccato. “Would you believe that crazy professor wrote a book from death row? He was also interviewed by numerous media personalities, and lived life in the limelight until he was executed.”
“Perfect for someone with a narcissistic personality,” Mrs. Finley murmurs.
“That totally sucks.” Daniel resumes his restless pacing. “The freak criminal is immortalized, and the victim suffers as a pariah.”
“We need to show Tracy how much Angela suffered,” I say, feeling a burst of determination. “She needs to know that her murderer was convicted and executed years ago. Angela has suffered daily and never lived her life. Tracy needs to know that Angela never forgot about her, thought about her every day of her life.”
Logan pats my shoulder. “Sounds great in theory. But I think she’s far beyond listening.”
“I agree,” Mr. Kincaid says. “In fact, I’m not sure I can, in good conscience, let any of you back in that house.”
“I agree… what did Anna say?” Mrs. Finley asks, referring to Mrs. Kincaid, our Circle chapter leader.
“She arranged for an exorcism team to meet us at the house in an hour.” Mr. Kincaid taps at his phone a few times. “Chief Diving Eagle, Pastor Emilio and his assistant Rosalina, along with…” He pauses, his eyes moving to Mrs. Finley. “You, Marianne.”
“No, Mom,” Logan says, struggling to his feet. Though he groans at the pain, it doesn’t stop him from striding up to his mother. “It’s far too dangerous.”
“Really, honey?” She lets out a nervous laugh. “You still plan to go there tonight, and yet expect me to just allow it.”
“But an exorcism? It isn’t the same.” Logan crosses his arms over his chest, wincing from the movement.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is for your father and me to allow you to dive into these dangerous situations?” Mrs. Finley wraps her arms around his shoulders and leads him back to the sofa. “You have a gift, and so do I. We have a duty to use our gifts to help others. You can’t protect me any more than I can protect you, dear.”
Logan flops down on the sofa, letting out a pained hiss. When he glances at me with pleading eyes, I shake my head. Nothing I say will change Mrs. Finley’s mind either. I place my hand on his thigh, stroking his leg through his jeans.
“There’s a simple solution,” I murmur, leaning my head close to his. He looks at me with such hope, I feel guilty about my next words. “We move Tracy on… convince her to go into the light on her own. Then no exorcism.”
“The Circle didn’t use an exorcism last time,” Rebecca says. “Will that make a difference over the banishment ritual they used?”
“An exorcism isn’t permanent,” Mrs. Finley says as she eases herself down into a blue armchair. “Spirits, demonic or otherwise, can return, exorcism or no. It’s a more intense form of eviction and may last longer than a simple cleansing or banishment ritual. An exorcism is for powerful spirits, the stubborn ones who are too powerful for their own good.”
“And demons,” Raven says as she enters the room carrying a bundle of greenish wreaths and small pouches. She places them on the end table beside our high priestess. “We were low on blackberry so I wove in some clove and ivy.”
“Good thinking, dear,” Mrs. Finley says while inspecting the wreaths. “You have a real talent for herbs.”
Raven bows her head. “Thank you, High Priestess.”
Blake stands behind Raven, almost as though he’s her bodyguard. His dark eyes never leave her, stalking her movements like the wolf he is. Silence continues as Mrs. Finley and Raven pass out the wreaths and pouches. The wreaths go around our necks, and I’m happy there aren’t any mirrors nearby. I’d rather not see how ridiculous I look sporting a wreath. Pouches of mixed protection herbs are placed in our pockets. I inhale, enjoying the woodsy aroma. If nothing else, at least we all smell pleasant.
Mrs. Finley sits down beside me. “How is that bracelet working?”
“Fine. But I have to admit… it drives me crazy with the constant vibrating.”
“Does it distract you? When you’re on a case?”
I think about her words. “No. I’d like to say yes, because I do find it annoying. But the vibrations ebb and flow with the surrounding negative energy. I can sense psychic attacks coming seconds earlier than before. It’s becoming more a part of me every day.”
“Good, good.” She pats my leg. “That’s what I hoped to hear.”
Logan groans beside me, and we both turn to him. “Premonition,” he murmurs in a strained tone while clutching his head with his hands.
“What did you see, dear?” Mrs. Finley asks, her voice calm and soothing.
He drops his hands and leans his head back against the sofa. Samson and Delilah let out simultaneous mewls and butt his legs with their heads. He moans again, his fingers clenched in his hair like he might tug it out. Premonitions seem to be painful for him. I don’t have them, so I don’t understand why.
“It… hurts.” A cold sweat breaks out on his forehead, and I motion for Blake. He doesn’t hesitate, having seen this before.
Blake’s quick reaction eases the tension in my shoulders, and I allow myself to relax a bit. There is something so refreshing about the werewolf. Even as I cradle Logan in my arms, I can’t help but be relieved at Blake’s quick understanding and action. Everyone in the Circle is always full of questions. Blake too but he is also action-prone—he does what’s needed and asks questions later. He returns from the kitchen, handing me a rag soaked in cold water, and I place it on Logan’s forehead, wiping in gentle motions. Everyone remains silent as we wait for Logan to recover and reveal what he saw. He takes the rag from my hands, running it across the back of his neck.
“Honey, what did you see?” his mother asks.
“Death.”
Chapter Twenty
Death Omen
LOGAN
Pain lances through my head, and I bite back another groan. Can’t let anyone know how messed up I really am, or they won’t let me hunt. After this premonition, I know I have to be there. Everyone stares at me… waiting for the big reveal, but I can’t find the words. My stomach drops as I recall the hazy image, the unseeing gray eyes. I just saw my best friend’s death.
I run the wet washcloth over the clammy skin at the nape of my neck. A shiver courses through me, traveling from my torso down my arms and legs. I feel detached, floating. Part of me wants to ride that detachment right into insanity. But I force myself back into the present. I can feel again: the soft fur of my familiars beneath my fingers, Kacie’s breath against my cheek as she whispers words of encouragement, and Poe pulling at my hair, tickling my ear with his beak. Really? It’s the crow that finally pulls me from the darkness.
“Enough, Poe.” I gently prod at the crow until he hops off my shoulder. He lands on the back of the sofa, his beady eyes never leaving me.
“You back?” Kacie asks in a soft voice.
“Yeah… but…” I trail off, unable or maybe unwilling to continue. Premonitions are scary things—twisted, hazy, hard to understand. Yet this one was the clearest I’ve ever had. Daniel’s dead, unseeing eyes staring up at me from his prone body. I didn’t see the surroundings. I don’t know where or when it will happen. I don’t know anything!
“I need everyone to clear out.” Kacie makes a waving motion with her arm. “Please, it’s important.” Everyone stands and heads toward the kitchen in silence. “Wait, Raven, I need your help.”
She sits on the chaise by my leg. “What do you want me to do?”
“Take his other hand,” Kacie says as she takes my right. “Logan, close your eyes.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“Listen to my voice.” Kacie squeezes my h
and. “Raven and I are open to you. Use our strength, our psychic power. Visualize your premonition. Is it fuzzy?”
“Yes.”
“What do you see?”
“Daniel.”
Kacie and Raven both gasp in unison.
“What is Daniel doing?” It’s Raven’s voice. Kacie must be too shocked to speak yet. It will only get worse. Raven pulls on my hand. “Concentrate! What is Daniel doing?”
“H-he’s… dead.”
Silence. Complete utter silence.
Raven recovers first. “Are you sure? I-I mean are you sure he’s dead?”
My eyes burn through my closed lids. “Yes. No question.”
“Where is he?” Kacie asks in a shaky voice. “Can you see where it happened?”
“No. Everything’s dark. God, D-Daniel,” I say, choking on the words. “Stop. Stop making me see this!”
Raven grips my hand harder, covering it with her other hand. An arm encircles my shoulders, and Kacie leans her head close, resting against my cheek. Her aura pulses, dark red, full of power. Red is never calming. But it fills me with strength and determination, clouding my doubt. The image sharpens, and I can see things I missed before in my grief. A room, in disarray, horrible disarray. Daniel wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt lying in a pile of shattered glass. A large shadow figure looms above him, reaching down with dark, ethereal limbs.
My eyes fly open. “The sorority house,” I say through a gasp. “He was killed at the sorority house.” I think… it’s still too hazy to make out anything but the glass and the dark phantom, but can I take the chance? Hell no.
Raven lets out a relieved sigh. “So if he doesn’t go to the house, then he won’t die.”
I glance at Kacie and see the worry clouding her eyes. She and I both know that it’s never that easy.
“I don’t like that look you two just exchanged. Spill.”
I run my hand through my hair a few times until I’m sure it’s sticking straight up from my abuse. “It’s a bit more complicated than that…” The image of Daniel’s sightless eyes fills my mind, and I trail off, unable to continue.
“Until Tracy is moved on or exorcised, Daniel could be in danger,” Kacie says, clutching my hand. “If she even is the danger.”
“I don’t understand. If you saw him dead at the house, then if we keep him away, it won’t happen. R-right?” Raven’s voice hitches.
“The future is always in motion, even the tiniest change can have vast consequences,” I reply, meeting her stricken gaze. “The Butterfly Effect. Heard of it?”
Raven tips her head. “Sort of.”
“It’s a chaos theory in physics. The smallest thing can have catastrophic effects down the line.”
“But you’re talking hours or a day or so, not years or centuries.”
“Each decision, each action we make affects the future. I’m pretty sure I saw Daniel in the sorority house. But that was a frozen moment in time, continuing down a certain path. We don’t know what that path is, what decisions led to his death. If we make different choices, he could still die, only somewhere else.”
“It doesn’t matter. We could talk about it forever and still never understand a premonition. We need to protect Daniel. Raven, you need to stay here. Put up a protective circle and keep him in it until we take care of Tracy,” Kacie says, hugging Samson to her chest. The cat doesn’t fight. Instead it relaxes against her, letting out a loud, soothing purr.
“Good idea,” I agree.
“Who are you taking instead of Daniel?” Raven asks.
“Mom told Blake earlier that he was muscle tonight. I thought it an odd phrase at the time, but now it makes perfect sense. Let’s get everyone back in here. We’re running out of time, and between my premonition and Mom’s vision, we have lots of lives to save tonight.”
Even in the darkness, the striped tent looks ominous. Wind gusts, sending a ripple through less secured sections. The back of my neck prickles, and I feel like I’m being watched. I glance around. No curious faces, no movement in the bushes around the house. We seem to be alone. Covered by the tent, the house looks like a carnival attraction, a funhouse, only there’s no fun waiting inside.
We watch the house in silence from the relative safety of Blake’s pickup. There are only three of us: Kacie, Blake, and me. Everyone else stayed behind after some bitter arguing. Rebecca and Carl would just be potential casualties. We don’t need extra cannon fodder… that’s my job. They stayed behind at my house to help protect Daniel along with Raven.
Two dark sedans pull up behind us—the exorcism team and Mr. Kincaid. Showtime.
The moment I open the door, Samson and Delilah leap to the ground. My familiars refused to stay behind by attaching themselves to my jeans with their claws. I’ve always been taught to listen to one’s familiar, so their worry was misplaced. I join Blake and Kacie on the sidewalk, and we face the demon house together. Or would that be the demon inside the house?
The air is heavy with negative energy, and for a brief moment I wonder what it would be like to be oblivious like so many other people. I take in a deep breath and almost choke on the thick air. Everything is so quiet. Other than the ambient noise of the nearby freeway, it’s as though time has stopped, waiting to see what will happen.
Blake shakes like a dog. “Damn, the air is heavy tonight.” He meets my gaze, and I have to fight not to look away. “Something bad…”
Bad. Well, he should be an expert. I shared the worst night of my life with Blake almost five years ago. What happened… it wasn’t his fault, I know that. But every time I look at him I see… Stop! I won’t make it through tonight if I give Tracy more fodder to use against me. Putting Blake and me together for this was a bad idea. What was Mom thinking?
“The longer we stand out here, the worse it will be,” I say, my eyes returning to the tented house. “She’s waiting.”
Mom runs to my side. “They’re here. The ones I foresaw are already inside.”
As though on cue, a howling scream rips through the night, shattering the stillness. Anguish and raw fear. Goosebumps follow a shiver that races down my arms.
“We’re all going in together,” Mr. Kincaid says in a high-pitched tone I’ve never heard from him before. “There’s no time for anything else. Blake, help me rescue the civilians, get them outside.”
Blake nods. “You got it.”
The Comanche tribal elder steps forward, and Kacie throws her arms around his neck before he can speak.
“Chief Ken, it’s so good to see you again!”
Ken? I thought the chief’s name was Diving Eagle…
“Little Kassandra?” He holds her out at arms-length. “My dear, you have grown into a beautiful and powerful young woman.”
“Thanks to you and your help when I needed it most.” She backs away, a blush blossoming across her cheeks.
I’m guessing based on her expression that this is the chief who helped her with her ghost cowboy. I still can’t believe she endured a twisted ghost stalker for so long before finding help.
“Friends,” the chief says, bowing his head. “The exorcism team is here as a last resort. This spirit has already been banished once, and after speaking with Rebecca, I believe it is not in anyone’s best interest to exorcise her. She needs to be moved on, not just for her salvation but to keep this from repeating again in the future.”
“She is dangerous and too powerful for her own good,” Mom says, her wide eyes never leaving the tented house. “But she is also suffering greatly. Use that suffering to your advantage. Empathize.”
My heart pounds so hard I can feel the beat in my throat. Without a word, I slip the blackberry wreath over my head while fingering the herbal pouch in my pocket.
Pastor Emilio clears his throat. “Our main concern is the safety of the people inside and you three.” He motions at Kacie, Blake, and me. “If things get out of hand, you’ll need to leave so the adults can deal with it.”
I can’t hide
my glare. “I appreciate your concern, Pastor, but we are trained to handle situations like these. This isn’t a demon you can send back to Hell. This is a misguided person.” This is exactly why I hate it when the adults get involved, especially those without talent.
“Now, Logan, we wouldn’t be acting responsibly if—”
The chief cuts him off. “You underestimate these teenagers. Their spiritual energy is strong.” He turns to us with a grim look. “We will defer to you.”
“Ken, that’s irrespon—”
“No, it isn’t. Spirituality has little to do with age,” the chief says, refusing to back down. “I know you are new to Circle affairs, but you must become accustomed to allowing the members to do their duty.”
Pastor Emilio rounds on my mother. “How can you serve your son up to potential slaughter?”
Mom closes her eyes, and I know she’s praying to the Goddess for strength. “Emilio, I appreciate your concern. I’m concerned as well, but Logan and the Circle members, they’re professionals. This is what they do. You must look beyond age to talent. Now while we have argued, Tracy had more time to torture innocents.”
Blake strides to the tent flap. “It’s time.” His voice holds the authority of an alpha werewolf, one who will one day lead his pack. Even the adults are compelled to obey. He disappears through the opening. Taking Kacie’s hand, I pull her through with me, assuming the exorcism team will follow.
Chapter Twenty-One
Trespassers
KACIE
As we enter the house, I’m blinded. It’s so dark in here, no ambient light—the tent blocks out the moonlight and reflections from nearby streetlamps. Something crashes upstairs, followed by thudding footsteps, then silence again. My bracelet dances on my wrist, and I have to calm my breathing to overcome the innate fear of the dark… of things that go bump in the night. Another loud crash. Lots of things are going bump here tonight. A flashlight flares to life, lighting our immediate vicinity. Debris litters the floor, as though a storm went through destroying everything in its path. I suppose it did—a supernatural storm.
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