Mark of the Witch

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Mark of the Witch Page 18

by Maggie Shayne

Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Tomas and I—we were lovers in that other lifetime. And God knows how many in between. It was forbidden then, too.”

  “And you wound up dead,” Rayne said softly. “Maybe the Universe is going to keep throwing you together until you figure out that love is more important than anything else and treat it that way. And maybe you’re both going to keep suffering until you finally learn it.”

  My throat was dry, my skin clammy. “I don’t know if what I’m feeling now is real or just leftover emotion from thirty-five hundred years ago.”

  “If you feel it, it’s real. Time is an illusion. Everything is happening now. If you’ve studied the Craft at all—and I know you have, Indy—then you know that.”

  I swung around sideways, so I was sitting right beside her. “It feels real. It feels like the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.”

  “A love that lasts lifetimes? Are you kidding me? That is the most powerful thing you’ve ever felt, dummy.”

  I smiled a little at her loving insult. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, how can I ask him to give up his…calling? To break his vows?”

  “Will you listen to yourself and think a little bit?” She reached across to me and pushed my bangs out of my eyes. I wondered if my hair was standing up all over and realized she wouldn’t care. “Do you have any idea how many impossible things had to fall into place for the two of you to find each other? Among all the billions of people living on this planet right now? For him to find you again, after more than three thousand years—the chances must be like finding a single grain of sand in the desert. And for you to live in the same city as his own sister…for you to be born in the same century as him…and for you to remember. Do you really think our Goddess or his God or both of them, arranged all that and then expected him not to love you again? It wouldn’t make any sense to believe that, Indy. Would it?”

  I lowered my head, tears brimming in my eyes. “He’s obsessed with this demon thing.”

  “Then get the damned demon thing over with and out of the way. Because I’m more and more convinced it’s not about him anyway. It’s about the two of you. It’s about love, babe. All the rest is just the window dressing the Goddess threw in to force you two together again.”

  I tipped my head sideways. “When did you decide all that?”

  “Right now. It just came to me. Things do, sometimes. But it feels true. I trust it.”

  I met her eyes and saw the conviction there. “I wish I could believe it, too.”

  “But you don’t, do you?” Rayne asked.

  “I don’t know. I need to think. But I do know that Tomas doesn’t believe it. Not any of it. And that makes everything else sort of moot, don’t you think?”

  * * *

  “You two looked as guilty as teenagers caught in the act on that trail yesterday,” Father Dom said softly. He’d poured them each a few fingers of whiskey over ice, after requesting a private conversation in the den.

  Tomas had managed to duck him last night until he could reasonably take refuge in his bedroom. But this morning there had been no escaping his friend’s dogged persistence. So he took his small glass, emptied it in a single gulp and relished the burn. It gave him time to compose an answer. He was waiting for a call back from Jon. Last night he’d uploaded the newest photos and emailed them to his friend, who’d replied that he would get to them first thing this morning. Tomas was willing the damned phone to ring before he was forced to answer Father Dom.

  But it didn’t. And his glass was empty. He set it on the coffee table and stiffened his shoulders. “I’m a man, Dom. She’s a beautiful woman, and we have a powerful history. Maybe if I’d been warned about this aspect of it I would have been more prepared, but it’s hitting me out of left field. I wasn’t ready for this.” He looked at the empty glass again. It was still full of perfectly good ice cubes. “Fuck it, I’m having another one.”

  Dom gasped at the profanity but bit back whatever condemnation he’d been about to offer in response, a fact for which Tomas was absurdly grateful. The old man sipped his own whiskey while Tomas got up, crossed the room and refilled his glass.

  Eventually Dom said, “I know it’s not easy for you, Tomas. And I respect your honesty about this.”

  “It is what it is. No point lying about it.”

  “Precisely. It is what it is. Lust. Carnal and human. And flawed, as all human things are.”

  Tomas studied the amber liquid in his tumbler. It reminded him of Indy’s hair. “It feels deeper than that, though.” Why the hell was he discussing this with Dom, of all people? Dom, who would never understand. Hell, he wasn’t sure anyone could understand. How many people loved the same soul over thousands of years, through dozens of lifetimes?

  How many people had their soul mate’s blood on their hands?

  “Feels deeper? Like what?” Dom rose from the sofa, glass in hand. “Like love?” he asked, loading enough sarcasm on the word to make it feel dirty. “We both know the only real love is love of God, Tomas.” He walked across the room and clapped Tomas on the shoulder. “Just hold steady, son. Just hold steady. Keep your mission in mind, your assignment, given to you by God Almighty, who chose you from among all others to carry this out because He knew you could handle it. He had faith in you, Tomas. All you have to do is have faith in Him. Stay strong. Don’t let the charms of a witch sway you from your sacred duty, nor from your holy vows.”

  Tomas nodded, listening, hearing, but not feeling the words as deeply as he felt his need for Indy. God, he had so many questions. How could he believe Dom was wrong about all of this when he’d seen the power of the old priest’s faith with his own eyes. The exorcism—Dom hadn’t faked that.

  But that wasn’t the question that spilled from his lips. It was another. “Why would God choose me for this? Why, when I was so close to her in the past? It makes no sense. Why not some other priest, one who has no history with her?”

  Dom stared at him, his eyes deep and wise and knowing. “It’s a test of your faith, my son. Vanquishing this powerful evil, this demon we now face, requires an act of supreme faith, an act of absolute belief.” He sipped, contemplated, then nodded as if the answer had come to him. “In truth, Tomas, you should be on your knees in gratitude that God has so much faith in you. It’s just like when He commanded Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac. That’s exactly what this is!”

  An icy chill raced down Tomas’s spine at those words.

  “It’s just that sort of test of faith. And it is a test you must pass, Tomas. Do not be swayed.” Dom was on a roll now, pacing the room and getting more and more fired up, sounding like a Pentecostal preacher in a revival tent. “Faith, my son, is far stronger than any other force in existence. You must believe—believe with everything in you. With your whole heart, your whole soul, your whole mind, you must believe in your calling, in your duty. Put that above all else and you cannot go wrong. You can trust me on this. I know it to be true. Nothing is more important than faith.”

  The telephone rang as Tomas searched his soul for a deeper understanding, because there was something…off…and yet familiar about the words, something that was like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. But the ringing cut off his contemplation, and he vowed to ponder this more later as he picked up the cordless receiver and walked to the far side of the room.

  “How is she this morning?” Jonathon asked without preamble.

  “She slept like the dead, straight through the night. I think she’s awake now. My sister’s upstairs with her, took her some breakfast.”

  “The…injuries?”

  Tomas sighed, unsure how much to reveal and deciding secrecy was probably useless at this point. Father Dom was already ranting about Jon having seen too much, but there wasn’t much to be done about that now. “The cuts are gone. Healed as if they’d never been there. But it took a toll on her, all the same.” He felt Dom’s eyes on him as he spoke and looked up to see him walk over and hit the speaker button on the
phone base.

  Tomas wanted to roll his eyes, and the thought moved through his mind that apparently God trusted him more than Dom did. Still, it wasn’t worth an argument. He set the receiver down and continued the conversation. “Do you have anything for me, Jon? Are the marks writing, like I thought?”

  “They are. Akkadian,” Jon said. “It’s in two parts. Something like an incantation on her left arm, and something more involved on the right arm and back. An account, a history. The first line—which I’m interpreting as a sort of title—is The Truth I Must Remember.”

  Dom looked at Tomas sharply, his attention caught.

  Jon went on. “I’m working on the full translation now. I’ve got to tell you, Tomas, it’s wild stuff. Harem slaves being sacrificed to a sun god. The murder of a king. A high priest with questionable motives.”

  “Really? Questionable how?”

  “Can’t say yet—it’s only hinted at. But I’ll be done by this afternoon.”

  “We’ll come over,” Tomas said. “What time do you want us there?”

  “Three work for you? I should have it finished by one, but I have meetings in between—”

  “We’ll be there at three, then.”

  “We’ll be where at three?”

  Indy’s voice, coming from the living room, sent shivers of desire flaring through Tomas’s body to settle in his groin. He was almost hard just at the sound of her innocent question.

  Maybe Dom was right and this was some kind of spell.

  Turning, he allowed himself the absolute pleasure of looking at her, which only made him want her even more. She looked worn-out. There were circles under her eyes, and her hair resembled the feathers of an agitated rooster. She was hugging her terry bathrobe around her, had silly fuzzy slippers on her feet, and was clutching a coffee mug in her hands as if it were a life raft in the middle of an empty ocean. And she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  Her eyes devoured him in return, and he wondered if the mutual lust fest they had going was as obvious as it felt like it was. He tried to paste a casual smile on his face to cover up the longing that had to be visible in his eyes.

  Dom reached past him and picked up the telephone receiver, speaking softly to Jon before hanging up.

  And even though he was aware of the old man’s movements, he was entirely focused on Indy.

  “Where are we going at three?” she asked again.

  “Cornell,” he said, finally managing to master the art of speech. It was worse today, this feeling. He’d dreamed of making love to her last night. Only it had been more like a memory. Not their bodies, not their clothing. Outdoors in what felt like a desert oasis hidden among the dunes, bathed in moonlight. Now that he’d remembered being with her once, loving her once, it was as if a floodgate of feeling had broken wide open. “Jon’s translating the symbols from those cuts. Says there’s a history having to do with—with what you’ve been remembering written on one arm and your back. And that there’s an incantation on the other arm.”

  Her eyes widened. “An incantation? Do you think....do you think it might be the key to me figuring out how to get hold of that ever elusive amulet?”

  “I’m hoping that’s what it is.”

  “And the history?”

  “It was titled The Truth I Must Remember.”

  She nodded slowly. “My sister—at least I think it’s my sister—keeps telling me to remember. Screaming it at me. I wonder if—”

  “We’ll soon find out.”

  She lowered her head with a sigh. “God, maybe we’re actually getting closer to the end of this…this nightmare.”

  “Maybe.”

  “We’ll all go,” Father Dom said. “This afternoon. We’ll all go together. Find out exactly what that writing was about.” He looked worried as his eyes darted from one of them to the other, but they lingered longest on Tomas.

  Tomas’s gut was telling him to leave Dom and Rayne behind, but he knew what that would look like to the old priest. And besides, having them along would provide a buffer. Maybe keep him from falling prey to his own weakness where Indy was concerned. He needed to keep his head clear, be objective.

  Indy was looking at him, silently begging him to tell Father Dom no. To make the old man stay behind. Additional evidence that he probably ought to do the opposite. Being alone with her was not a good idea, not even on a busy university campus. “All right,” he said, with a nod at Father Dom. “We’ll all go.”

  “Good. Good. Now, in the meantime, I have somewhere I need to be, things I need to do that I’ve been seriously neglecting.”

  Tomas saw Indy and Rayne frown, but he was the one who asked, “Dom, what are you talking about?”

  “Well, the reason I came here to begin with, of course. The Interfaith Conference.”

  “Is that still going on?” Indy asked. “I would’ve thought, after the bombing—”

  “Of course the conference itself has been cancelled. But a lot of the clerics stayed in town. Some are still hospitalized, but others have arranged a memorial service for those who died. It’s…it’s by invitation only. I really should be there, Tomas.”

  “Of course you should,” he said softly. “Where’s it being held?”

  “Sage Chapel.” He picked up a sweater he’d left lying on the small sofa. “Don’t worry. I’ll be finished in plenty of time for our meeting with Professor Yates.”

  “Good,” Tomas said. But he didn’t mean it.

  And he felt guilty as hell for the surge of relief that washed over him as Father Dom went out the front door, got into his oversize bronze Buick and roared away.

  13

  As tired and as drained as I was, I was almost giddy at the prospect of having Tomas and Rayne to myself for the next few hours, without the glowering, buzz-killing presence of Father Dom dragging us all down. And you know, even though he didn’t say it out loud, I thought Tomas felt that way, too. He seemed to grow lighter the second the old goat’s car growled out of earshot.

  Okay, there was a minute or two where I sort of wished Rayne would find somewhere else she had to be, as well. But I bounced myself right back from that. Because when we were alone together, there was too much between Tomas and me. It was intense and deep and emotional, and yes, sexy, too. But neither one of us was ready to take this thing any further. And having Rayne with us would keep things from going down that road.

  We needed a break.

  I clapped my hands together and glanced at the clock. “So? Am I the only one who feels like a kid at recess all of a sudden?”

  Rayne smiled. Tomas averted his eyes, but I saw the glint of agreement in them first.

  “Okay, well, I’ve had an exquisite breakfast already—thank you for that, Tomas. I could eat your French toast every day for the rest of my life and be happy.”

  He looked at me with a smile that was pure impulse, completely honest. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it. Are you okay, Indy?”

  “Of course I’m okay. But I need to take a shower and throw on some clothes. And then I think we ought to…try to have some fun today. Just for a couple of hours, while Dom’s gone. Maybe get our minds off all this demonic, life-and-death, end-of-the-world stuff and just do something…stupid fun.”

  “I am so with you on that,” Rayne said, smiling. “Go ahead, take your shower. My brother and I will come up with a plan while you do.”

  “Okay.” I met Tomas’s eyes. “Make it a good one. Nothing heavy, nothing dark.”

  He sent me a salute, and I thought he looked as relieved as I felt. “I promise.”

  And then there was that long tugging process I had to go through every single time I wanted to tear my eyes away from his. But I managed it and headed up the stairs.

  As soon as I reached my room I kicked the door closed behind me and went straight to the bathroom, cranked on the taps and shed the heavy bathrobe. I was still tired. Worn down. But better than earlier. And as I stood under the pounding, hot spray, one arm braced aga
inst the tiled wall, head down, I felt the heat easing some of the aches from my body, relaxing some of the knotted-up muscles, soothing the tension from my nerves. I felt the headache easing.

  I wonder what that translation has to say? I wonder if this is going to be it? The way to get the amulet.

  Stop thinking about that! You need an easy day for a change, dumb-ass, or you’re headed straight for a breakdown.

  Tomas, I thought. Tomas, Tomas, Tomas. His mouth on mine, his arms around me, his body pressed up against me. The feelings of love came rushing through me.

  Through me.

  Huh. Interesting that I was feeling them as if they were my own emotions. Not leftovers from some past self clouding up my heart, but real, now, sorts of feelings. Maybe. Maybe these feelings were real. My own.

  Of course, that didn’t solve the problem of his priesthood.

  Will you get your mind off problems, just for this morning?

  I lathered up, rinsed down, washed my hair and called it good. This was not the day for a long, lingering shower, no matter how good it would feel on my poor battered bod. Today I wanted to spend every minute I could with Tomas, and with Rayne, too. It was going to be a mental health day, and damn, did I need it.

  I opened the shower door and stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom, tugging a towel off the rack and wrapping it around me, under my arms, tucking it in front to keep it in place. I padded over to the little sink and cranked on the faucet, reaching for my toothbrush with one hand, then giving the steamy mirror a palm-swipe with the other.

  She stood behind me in the mirror, black hair waving like every strand was a living thing. Black eyes. Beautiful. She looked at me in that mirror, and I stared back, absolutely transfixed, inwardly cringing in case she started up with the slashing again and hoping to the Goddess that she wouldn’t.

  He’s a dangerous man.

  I blinked. “Who?” I wanted with everything in me to turn around and face her, but it felt as if something was literally holding me still, right where I was.

  The priest.

  “Which—”

 

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