Sacred Circle

by James, Rachel

  Thirty minutes later, he switched CD’s again, and exited the expressway onto the parkway cutoff. As the car settled back into a steady rhythm, he tuned into Brianna’s energy level. She had gone dead to the world when the music started, and she hadn’t flexed a muscle in at least thirty miles. What was she dreaming about? None of your business, he cautioned. Enjoy the peace and quiet.

  Ten miles later, he realized he was nodding off under the steady hum of the tires, and if he didn’t find some way to keep his mind occupied, he’d literally fall asleep at the wheel. He stole a peek at Brianna, surprised to find her eyes wide open and studying him.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” he stated.

  “I was thinking about the power of three—how one little thing you do comes back to you in triple force.”

  “Three times bad, three times good,” Devlin quoted.

  “Umm, but how does it relate to Mother’s collapse? She’s never had a hateful thought for anyone. And all I can do is wonder what she could’ve done to have the power of three boomerang back on her in such a terrible way.”

  “Perhaps, the boomerang wasn’t meant for her,” Devlin said. “The karmic lesson may be for the person—or entity—that interrupted the flow of energy in the circle.”

  “Or me.”

  Devlin’s foot jerked from the gas pedal.

  “That’s absurd.”

  “Why? I hurt my parents beyond belief when I willfully disobeyed the Wicca creed. And I broke every principle of faith that I once cherished by wishing harm on you. As if that wasn’t enough, I went out into the world and exploited the very people I admire to get them to do what I wanted. So much for the principle of ‘blessed be’ and ‘harm none,’ don’t you think?”

  Devlin digested her words. It was certainly possible that karma owed her a few lessons for her selfish behavior, but he didn’t think she was owed the death of her mother as part of that karmic recompense. Should he confess his sins of betrayal to make her feel better? No, she’d not understand; she’d think he was humoring her. He heard a weary sigh, laced with annoyance.

  “Alright, let’s hear it. What else do I owe you an apology for?”

  So much for turnabout, Devlin thought. He followed her second sigh with one of his own.

  “We’ve said it all, I think.”

  “Well, if we’ve said it all, then you’re just holding a grudge against me for no good reason, and that’s just plain stupid.”

  “I’m stupid?”

  “Yes, stupid. I’ve apologized for wishing harm on you, and if I can humble myself to make an apology, I don’t see why you can’t. After all, it’s not as if I did anything wrong that day.”

  “No, of course not. You were a saint. It was my fault.”

  “Exactly. You were the careless one.”

  “If I remember right, you were emceeing the circle.”

  “Under your eagle eye. It never dawned on me that you thought I was capable of conducting the ritual on my own. After all, I was only seventeen.”

  “You’ve been conversant in Sacred Circles since you were twelve. Why wouldn’t I trust you to know what you’re doing? Your parents certainly did.”

  “Of course. Blame Brenda’s death on them now.”

  The slur was cutting, and Devlin wondered why he was letting her get away with such a cheap shot. Had she not once in the past fifteen years thought that Brenda’s death might sit squarely on her head? He glanced out the side window. He should’ve followed his first instinct and let Brianna drive herself home. And more importantly, he should’ve gone to Florida as planned. Why had he changed his mind? You still have a “thing” for her, his inner voice chided. Right. Stupid is as stupid does.

  He focused on the roadway ahead again, praying their conversation was truly at an end this time. A loud sigh escaped Brianna’s lips.

  “Don’t you think I know that I mishandled the spell that day?”

  “I think that accidents sometimes happen,” Devlin interrupted. “It’s no one’s fault; energy just collides. Let’s drop the subject, huh?” He stepped on the gas pedal and brought the car up to a steady seventy miles per hour. It settled under the rush of fuel, giving him time to wish he could turn the clock back a few minutes. Right now, falling asleep at the wheel was preferable to regurgitating an incident that he thought he had buried long ago.

  “I never thought I’d want to discuss that day with you.”

  “Don’t then,” Devlin cut in. “We were both there; we know what happened. We paid the price. Enough said.”

  “How long were you ill?”

  “Drop the subject,” Devlin stated, turning his attention to the CD player. She fell silent, but not for long.

  “Don’t tell me you weren’t ill; I was. We both know that a bout with a powerful negative force can cause an illness to linger for months. How long were you down?”

  Devlin ignored the question, hoping his silence would persuade her he had no intention of discussing the past anymore. He pressed the “start” button and listened to the soft, soothing tones of Il Divo. Liking their sound, he turned the music track up. The music disappeared a moment later.

  “You may as well answer me. You know what a brat I can be when I set my mind on something.”

  Devlin turned the music back up again, ignoring her statement. Once more, the music disappeared from his hearing.

  “I mean it, Devlin. I need to know the answer to the question—now more than ever.”

  Devlin gave a huge sigh.

  “Look, the punishment fit the crime. You miscalculated the level of your energy, and by the time I realized the error, the ritual tanked.”

  “And because Brenda was standing behind me, she took the hit.”

  “Right, so we deserved exactly what we got. Now, drop the subject before I’m forced to toss you out of the car.”

  “You, and what army of witches?”

  Devlin frowned at her sarcasm; however, before he could utter a sarcastic retort, a thumping erupted from beneath the floorboards, and the rear of the vehicle began to fishtail along the blacktop. Lifting his foot from the gas pedal, he tapped on the brakes, hoping to short-circuit the inevitable spin the Jeep seemed headed for.

  Twisting the wheel hard-left, he fought to keep the tires from skidding across the swale into a nearby ditch. To his relief, the car righted itself under his jerk and came to a complete stop. Tuning into the silence, he held onto the wheel, listening for the sound of spinning tires. Nothing. At least they weren’t dangling over some unseen drop-off. He had hit an animal, nothing more.

  “What the hell did you hit?”

  “Some damn animal crossing the road.”

  “Well, that was careless of you.”

  Her words had him dropping his head, and lightly banging his forehead on the steering wheel.

  “Ever mind the Rule of Three,” he quoted. “Three times what thou givest returns to thee. This lesson well thou must learn. Thee only gets what thou dost earn.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting that I caused the animal to cross the road and get killed?”

  Devlin rolled his head to the side, his gaze sweeping Brianna’s face.

  “You are a brat, you know—a beautiful one, but still a brat.” Lifting his head, he shoved the Jeep into park and exited the vehicle. Angling around the rear panel, he fished in the hatchback for a flashlight. Finding one, he checked the undercarriage on both sides of the car. No structure damage; no smell of gas or burning metal. And definitely no animal carcass caught in the wheel well. He swung the beam behind him, and over the roadway. A lump lay sprawled in pieces not far from the beam. A car door slammed a moment later.

  “What have you found?”

  Devlin turned the beam onto the mauled lump in the roadway.

  “A splattered roadrunner.”

  She spun about, fixing her stare anywhere but on the diced carcass.

  “Are you sure we hit it? Maybe we just ran over the carcass.”

  “We hit it,
Cinderella. So much for my becoming your Prince Charming.”

  “Don’t be an ass!” she sniffed, swinging back around. “Now, are we stranded or not? If we are, it’s clear the power of three belongs to you. I’m simply along for the ride.”

  “Rubbish,” Devlin grumbled, tossing the flashlight back through the open hatch and slamming the trunk down hard. “I’m quite sure you’ve never just been simply along for the ride on anything.”

  “Are we stranded or not?” she hissed.

  “Not.”

  “Good. I’d hate to leave your murdered body alongside the road for some damn animal to feast on.”

  He laughed at her words and then spun her about with a hefty shove towards the passenger door.

  “Stop being so bloodthirsty and get back in the car. We’re almost at the coven turnoff.”

  She entered the Jeep again and Devlin followed her lead. In less than a minute, they were on the road again, eating up the miles and settling into a companionable silence. Before he knew it, they were passing mile marker 34 and turning onto the perimeter road leading into the compound.

  Approaching the front gate, a screech blistered Devlin’s ears.

  “Stop!”

  He slammed on the brakes, sending the Jeep skidding along the dirt roadway with a vicious twist. He heard a door opening before the Jeep had even come to a full stop. The door slammed hard behind Brianna as she dashed out, ignoring his shout to wait. He shoved the car into “Park” and launched himself out of the car after her.

  “Have you lost your mind?” he asked, intercepting her at the front bumper.

  She grabbed his hand, startling him into silence. Linking her fingers with his, she reached into her blouse and hauled out a jeweled Pentagram. She settled herself in a reverent posture and then lifted the Pentagram upward.

  “My golden shield protects me from all that may wish to harm me. I ask that this be done for the greater good of all. Blessed be—I am safe.” She turned, and slipped the pentacle from around her neck. She flashed it at Devlin. “Your turn.”

  He grinned at her, and then holding the pentacle aloft, he repeated the prayer. When they were back in the car, and the Jeep was sailing through the gates, he ventured a comment.

  “You’re one smart witch, Miss Sage.”

  She grunted.

  “I’m not taking any chances. Sometimes, a negative environment throws off splintered, harmful energies that just beg to be smudged.”

  The Jeep sailed through the interior compound gate, and Devlin lifted his foot from the accelerator, wondering if Brianna sensed the energy shift in the air.

  “I’ve noticed,” Brianna replied, as if reading his mind. “My suggestion would be to put the ‘pedal to the metal’ and see if we can outrun the feeling.”

  Devlin increased the vehicle’s speed to forty-five, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

  “Given our time away from here, we shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.”

  “Well, remember, we used to be about ‘blessed be’ and ‘harm none.’ I don’t imagine spirit differentiates between the old days and now.”

  “Right, so let’s just carry on, and chalk the feeling up to good old-fashioned nerves.”

  “I like that suggestion. So mote it be.”

  Devlin brought the vehicle to a cool fifty-miles per hour and the Jeep sailed through the last of the interior gates without any further jerks, bumps, or unease. That is, until they reached the middle of the compound and found the Main Street plaza totally empty—except for a black streak flashing in front of the car at breakneck speed. Devlin hit the brakes, watching the cat disappear into the shrubs alongside the front bumper.

  “Damned crazy cat!” he muttered.

  “Cat? Where?” Brianna came alive, bending across his lap and glancing out the window. She searched the bushes for a pair of glittering, yellow eyes, unaware of the effect her sprawled body was having on his lower body. In seconds, she was back in the passenger seat, grousing. “If there’s a cat about, we need to find it. It may belong to mother, which means it will know something we don’t know.”

  “You are not going to bond with a cat, Brianna, no matter how bad things get,” Devlin said. She looked startled by the suggestion, but wisely held her tongue as he took his foot off the brake. “I mean it,” he emphasized, stepping on the gas. “You are not going to throw away your life in D.C. on the off chance a damn cat knows something about something.”

  “How do you know I live in Washington?” Brianna asked. “I didn’t tell you.”

  “You flew in on a plane from D.C.”

  “I could’ve changed planes.”

  “Drop the subject,” Devlin stated, “Concentrate on the matter at hand.”

  She snapped her mouth shut, doing as he suggested, and glancing at the storefronts they were passing.

  “Where is everyone?” she finally asked, “Surely the entire congregation can’t have fallen ill in such a short time.”

  “Perhaps the Elders initiated a house quarantine—to insure there’d be no further outbreak.”

  “I didn’t see any warning signs signaling that, did you?”

  Devlin’s gaze scanned the center street gazebo.

  “No, but they might not have had a chance to post the signs.”

  “They’re probably conducting prayer vigils in the Healing Center.”

  “Leave it to you to make excuses for their poor judgment,” Devlin stated. He stepped on the gas pedal, towards the row of buildings at the end of the main drive.

  “I’m not taking sides, Devlin. I’m becoming alarmed.”

  “Well, stow your fear before it gets the better of you. It’s up to us to keep our heads on straight while we’re assessing how bad things really are.”

  “It feels contagious.”

  “Stow that kind of thinking as well. I don’t relish ending up in a bed alongside your parents.”

  “No. And I don’t relish having to call the local police and say ‘excuse me, my parents are witches in your jurisdiction, and someone seems to have placed a terrible curse on them. Can you send a team out to investigate?’”

  Devlin ignored her sarcasm, concentrating on getting to the clinic as fast as possible. Three turns later, the Jeep braked to a stop in front of a three-story stone building. He studied the row of wreaths covering the sidewalk and clinic doorway. His glance drifted to Brianna, who was chewing on her lower lip.

  “Let’s not think the worst yet,” he advised. “Let’s assume that this incident is a freak accident of nature. If we go from that premise, we should be able to zero in on the problem and rectify it.”

  He saw a look of alarm stain her face and knew her thoughts had flown back fifteen years.

  “Neither of us is going near a Sacred Circle again,” she said. “We’re here to give moral support and offer suggestions. Outside of that, we’re not going to get involved.”

  “You’re not my keeper, Brianna.”

  “I mean it, Devlin. We’re visitors here, nothing more.”

  “Well, then the sooner we get out of this car and find Doctor Ellis, the sooner I will no longer need you as my babysitter.”

  “So mote it be,” Brianna stated, lifting the door handle and pushing the door open. Her smile was grim as she slipped from the front seat into the shadows of a single streetlight, but he had no chance to offer an answer. Her door slammed shut with a soft clunk.

  Frowning, Devlin slid from the Jeep. They should’ve never come home. The current incident was like something out of an Exorcist film, where none of the characters had the slightest skill or knowledge to thwart an evil possession.

  “Earth to Devlin,” came a hurried call.

  Devlin snapped his mind back to reality, slamming the car door shut and joining Brianna at the front of the Jeep. He gave a long sigh.

  “Ready. Set. Go.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE CLINIC

  “No use stalling,” Brianna said, studying the bouquets of flowers l
ining the sidewalk in front of them.

  “It’s not about stalling,” Devlin replied. “It’s about staying grounded and being prepared for anything.”

  He was right, Brianna knew. There was coven protocol to follow. Without the council’s blessing, their stay in the coven would be drive-in, drive-out. They had to find Doctor Ellis and elicit his backing before they met any of the other Elders, and then when they had secured his blessing, they would push for information on what had occurred in the circle to cause her mother’s unconsciousness.

  Had she opened a portal between worlds and forgot to close it? No, she had thought long and hard about that question during the plane ride, and she had come to the conclusion that her mother didn’t make those kinds of mistakes. She had been conducting Sacred Circles for decades. If anything, her mother had been interrupted during her ceremony, and been unable to close the portal.

  “There’s Brad,” Devlin stated. “I called him from the airport, by the way. Told him to expect us.”

  Brianna squinted, studying the figure striding out of the shadows.

  “He looks old and worn down,” she commented.

  “Solving an epidemic would turn anyone’s hair white.”

  “Amen.”

  Stepping into a pool of light, the doctor’s expression came to life. He offered his hand to Brianna as he reached her.

  “You’ve grown into the spitting image of your mother, Brianna.” His gaze shot to the man beside her. “Thanks for the heads-up call, Devlin.” He held his hand out and Devlin shook it, nodding.

  “Good to see you again, Doctor.”

  “Call me Brad. We’re way past ‘doctor’ now.” His gaze swung back to Brianna. “I was floored when Devlin called and said you were coming. I can’t guarantee your being here will be received gracefully by the members, though.”

  “What about visitors? We didn’t see any warning signs posted that the commune was closed to visitors,” Devlin said.

  A surprised look crossed the doctor’s face.

  “The commune shuts down for a month every year at this time. Didn’t you know?”