“Then why is it that there are three witches, each one supposed to call forth a magical tool from the astral plane? Why is it that those tools are supposed to help free a so-called demon from the Underworld?”
“I don’t know. I don’t…I don’t know, Indy. I admit it fits pretty well—”
“It fits perfectly. Dom got it wrong. And that’s because he’s been going by the version of the story written by Sindar and handed down by centuries of priests. Sindar wouldn’t have made himself the bad guy, would he?”
“No, I don’t suppose—”
“History is written by the victors, isn’t that what they say? But I wrote a history of my own, before they killed me.”
“Before I killed you, you mean.”
“Let it go, Tomas. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m not supposed to help free a demon to wreak havoc on mankind. I’m supposed to return one small part of an innocent man’s soul to him, to help release him from an undeserved sentence.”
He met my eyes. I could see he was hearing me. Perhaps even believing me.
“Tomas, destroying the amulet means destroying an innocent man’s soul. Don’t you see that?”
He stared into my eyes for a long moment, and then suddenly the clouds in his own seemed to clear. “I’ve been misled,” he whispered.
“Dom is just a tool. He’s been used by a higher power, just not in the way he thinks. His job was never to destroy Demetrius or keep him imprisoned. It was to bring us together so that we could find the truth. And we have. His work is done, Tomas.”
He nodded.
I blinked, because he wasn’t arguing. “Do you…do you agree with me?”
“Yes. I do. You’re right. This makes sense. It all fits.”
Man, that was way easier than I expected. I swallowed hard, squared my shoulders and jumped back in for round two. “I want you to send him away now.”
“I already have. He’s leaving in the morning.”
I smiled slowly, letting the beautiful pages roll up again. I gently tied the leather cord around them and set the scrolls on the small stand beside the sofa. “You sent him away even before you knew…”
“Yes.”
“But…I thought you believed he was right about the demon.”
“Not as much as I believe in you,” he said. “And not as much as I believe that what I feel for you is real, and vital, and too much a part of me to ever deny, and that there’s no way what’s between us can be wrong or…or evil.”
Tears burned in my eyes as his hand came to my cheek, resting gently there. And then he kissed me, and I knew it was all going to be all right. Together we would go to the Portal on Samhain Eve—tomorrow night. We would go, and I would say the incantation that would come to my lips as if on its own. It would free the amulet from my body, freeing Demetrius’s soul-piece from the amulet and returning it to him. It was all I had to do. And then this—or at least my part in it—would be over.
It was the right thing to do. I felt it right to my toes.
Tomas was seeing it now. Thank the gods, all of them, I thought, and then I stopped thinking as his kiss changed into something deeper. He cradled my head in his hands, his tongue dipping and tasting my mouth as he lowered me backward onto the sofa.
I pressed my hands to his chest. “Not yet, Tomas. Not until you’ve been released from your vows. I don’t want you to—”
“I’m not a priest anymore. It’s official.”
“You mean we can—”
“Yes.” He kissed me again, and this time I let the flames that had been licking at the tinder of my soul take hold. And they blazed hot. We kissed, and kissed, and tugged and pulled at each other’s clothes as we did. He unbuttoned my shirt.
Everyone else was in bed. The den was quiet, private, its door closed tight. He pushed my pajama top from my shoulders, and his eyes roamed lower, gleamed with pure appreciation, and then he was kissing, caressing, my breasts. His hands moved down my back, and then he turned me and his lips followed their path.
But he stopped at the base of my spine. “The tattoo is back.”
“I know. It’s been there ever since my initiations. I don’t think it will fade away again.”
He pressed his lips to it, then turned me around again and kissed his way up the front of me. I arched off the sofa so he could push down the pajama bottoms. As soon as I was out of them, he rearranged us, pulling me down on top of him.
I tugged his shirt up, impatient, until he stripped it over his head and gave me full access to his magnificent chest. He was so perfect, broad and strong, a few dark hairs, not too many. Just enough to entangle my fingers as I stroked and touched and kissed his chest the way he had kissed mine.
I lost myself in the past. We were in a nest of pillows, and sheer curtains surrounded us. My hair was dark and his was long, and our bodies, our limbs, were nude and entwined. I heard soft whispers, sighs of pleasure, words of love.
And then I was back in the here and now. His pants were gone. I didn’t remember taking them off. He was bare and hard and warm, and nudging inside me. I closed my eyes and helped, and when he slid into me there was this moment of such intense, exquisite relief....
Finally. By the gods, it’s been so long.
And I knew it was true. This was old. This was real. We belonged together. And we had waited too damned long to find each other again.
I don’t know if he felt what I did. But he’d gone still, too, in that same moment. And his eyes seemed as stricken as mine must have been.
But then we began to move again in a rhythm as old as time, in a love almost as old, carrying each other to the closest place to paradise this side of heaven.
18
Tomas felt like a new man in the morning. He woke smiling, despite the gloom outside. Rain was pounding down; it had been all night. Indy’s beautiful face was completely relaxed and mostly in shadow. Just for a moment he looked at her lying across his body, her head on his chest, one small, perfect hand resting over his heart.
God, she was beautiful.
He felt blessed and yet vaguely guilty. Probably to be expected, he thought. He’d taken a vow of celibacy, and even though it had apparently never been “official,” he didn’t think God cared much about record keeping. One did not overcome years of subtle indoctrination with one night in the arms of an angel. No matter how sure or right it felt.
Sighing, he slid quietly out from under the brown faux-fur throw they’d pulled off the back of the sofa to cover them during the night, then straightened it back over her beautiful body. He pulled on his clothes from the day before, hesitating at the black shirt with its white collar insert. He couldn’t wear it anymore, he realized. He’d found his true calling, and it was not the priesthood.
And apparently never had been.
He set the shirt aside, and wearing only a pair of well-worn jeans, he picked up the plate of leftover cookies and the half-empty milk glasses, turning toward the door to carry everything to the kitchen.
As he stepped out of the room he spotted Father Dom standing near the front door, a suitcase on the floor beside him. Dom saw him, and the look on his face told Tomas that he knew exactly what had happened last night. Whether he’d been spying or had accidentally seen or heard them, he didn’t know. But the knowledge was written all over his mentor’s face. And Tomas supposed his current shirtless appearance confirmed it. Dom might even have caught a glimpse of Indy as the door had swung closed behind him.
He lifted his chin, met Dom’s eyes and refused to feel sorry or to apologize, knowing he was in the right. “I learned some things last night, Dom.”
“No doubt,” Father Dom said with disgust.
Tomas felt his jaw twitch in anger. “About the past—about all of this. We’ve been fighting on the wrong side.”
“The Devil truly is the great deceiver. To have fooled even you. But rarely have I seen him appear in quite so tempting a guise as he has this time.” He shrugged. “Then again, gre
ater men have fallen. Greater priests, even.”
“I’m not a priest. And apparently I never was. At least, there’s no record of my ordination. Can you tell me why that is, Dom?”
Dom glowered at him. “Need I quote your sister to you? Ordination is given by God, not by man.” He threw his hands in the air. “They don’t have paperwork on me, either. Booted me out of the Church ages ago.”
Tomas gaped in shock. So much made sense now.
“Do I let that stop me from doing God’s work? Of course I don’t.”
It was worse than he’d thought. Dom was a fraud? Had he even fooled the sisters at St. Brigit’s? He must have been a real priest at some point.
“How long ago were you—”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m leaving.” Dom gripped the doorknob.
Tomas wanted answers. “Dom, you need to listen to me.” Then he looked past him at the pouring rain and was hit by another realization. “And you may as well stay. You know as well as I do that with all that rain last night, the bridge is probably washed out.”
“No, Tomas. I do not need to listen to you. You’ve made up your mind. You’ll free the Demon, and he will destroy the world of man. I will awaken to the sound of trumpets in the house of the Lord. And you will awaken to eternal hellfire. I have no regrets. I doubt you will be able to say the same.”
Tomas watched as Dom turned and reached for the doorknob, apparently choosing to ignore the warning about the bridge. But Tomas didn’t need to see it to know it was under water. He’d been petitioning the highway department to raise it for years, but since his was the only place up here, it was way down on their list of priorities.
“Dom, you’re not going to be able to leave today,” he said again.
His old friend looked at him as if hearing him for the first time. And then a bloodcurdling, positively inhuman scream came from the second floor.
Tomas felt his blood go cold.
Rayne.
He lunged into a run, taking the stairs two at a time. He sped along the hallway and slammed through her bedroom door. And then he froze as he caught sight of her, lying there in the bed with foamy spittle around her nose and mouth. She was kicking, her arms thrashing, her body twisting, as guttural sounds emerged from her throat.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Images of the little girl at the exorcism flooded his mind.
Shaking himself free of his momentary paralysis, he moved to Rayne’s side, clasping her shoulders and shaking her gently. “Wake up, honey. Come on now, wake up and talk to me.”
Her eyes popped open, nearly bulging, bloodshot. He felt a whisper of relief. And then she shrieked in his face, and her breath was so fetid it almost knocked him over as her back arched off the bed. Suddenly her eyes rolled back and her body went completely lax. At least she’d stopped thrashing.
“My God,” he whispered, staring down at his now unconscious sister in shock. “My God, what the hell is this?”
“You know what it is, Tomas. We’ve both seen it before.”
He turned slowly. Father Dom was standing in the doorway, and beyond him, shaking like a leaf, wrapped up in the sofa throw, stood Indira, her eyes wide and glued to Rayne.
“You betrayed God,” Dom decreed, pointing a gnarled but steady finger at him. “You broke your vows in the arms of a demon’s whore.”
“Hey, watch it, pal, I’m standing right here!” Indy snapped.
Father Dom ignored her and kept speaking to Tomas. “And so the Lord has withdrawn his protection. Now your sister is possessed by the very demon you were sent here to destroy.”
“Bull. Shit.” Indy shouldered her way into the room between Dom and the door frame. “That’s not what this is, and you know it. Don’t listen to him, Tomas.”
He couldn’t look at Indira. Not now, not knowing what he had to do. His eyes were drawn back to his sister in the bed. He had to protect her, and it if meant hurting Indy, well, she was just going to have to forgive him when it was all over. Or not. Either way, it couldn’t be helped. There was no other way out of this.
“Tomas?” she whispered.
But he couldn’t look at her.
“Tomas, we were going to return a piece of Demetrius’s soul to him. Why would he attack your sister when we were going to help him?”
“Because he could,” Father Dom said. “Young lady, I’m beginning to believe you might not be aware of just how deceived you are. But I have expelled demons before. Many, many times. Tomas was with me not long ago when I exorcised a demon from a young girl. We know a possession when we see one. And we know the devil and his workings. He only seeks to harm, to destroy. Even his own servants are not safe. Until you seduced Tomas away from his true calling, God provided him with protection, and that protection extended to his beloved sister, despite her fallen ways. But as soon as he broke his vows, that protection was removed. As witches, you court the Devil every day of your lives. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”
Tomas looked at Indy. He couldn’t help himself. She looked right back at him, her eyes wide with disbelief, her expression asking him if he was truly naive enough to buy into Dom’s delusions. He had to look away, back to his sister, unconscious and helpless.
“There’s only one way to save her, Tomas.”
He turned to look at Father Dom. If Dom had reason to save her, she would be all right.
“We must perform an exorcism, son. Today. Now.”
“Tomas, don’t be an idiot!” Indy shouted. “She needs a hospital, not a priest! You can’t possibly—”
“Don’t.” Tomas held up a hand, stopping her words midstream. “Indy, you don’t have a clue what this is about. I do. Dom’s right, I have seen it before. Whatever else he is, he’s an experienced exorcist. This is for real.” Thunder clapped as if to punctuate his words.
“Then why aren’t you looking me in the eye?” she asked him.
So he faced her and forced out the words. “He’s right about this.”
“Tomas—”
“Stay out of this, Indy!” he barked, and then he looked at Dom again as lightning flashed across the old man’s face. “Will you help me, old friend? Help me save my sister?”
Dom’s lips thinned, and then he spoke. “Have you seen the error of your ways, Tomas? Have you seen what happens when you let anything come before your faith?”
“I have. I swear, I have.”
Dom nodded slowly. “Then I’ll try to save her. But remember, all I can do is try.”
* * *
“This is fucking ridiculous.” I turned and headed back downstairs. I wasn’t about to let Rayne die from whatever the hell had suddenly taken her over while the two men played exorcist. I was going to call 9-1-1 for an ambulance. And while I was at it, I thought, I’d tell them to send some cops along with it, because those two white-collar criminals were not going to let Rayne go easily.
They were both freaking nuts.
And it hurt. God, it hurt so bad that after the night we’d shared Tomas had turned on me like this. I mean, okay, Rayne was his sister and she was in bad shape, and he loved her and was obviously afraid for her. But still…
Hell, I love her, too. You don’t see me buying into some madman’s hallucinations over it. She needs real help. What the hell is the matter with Tomas?
The rain was pounding down outside. I shivered, crossed the little kitchen and reached for the cordless phone, only to find there was no dial tone whatsoever. Nothing but static. “Dammit.” I slammed the thing back into the base and noted that the power was still on.
Has to be the phone lines, then. Probably this damned storm.
And if the phones were down, so was the Net.
I headed back upstairs, undaunted, determined to get help for my friend. I couldn’t resist going past my own room to take a quick glimpse at the two maniac priests in Rayne’s room. They’d gathered up some of their magical tools by then. Oh, they would rather be tortured than call them that, but that’s what they we
re. They had their sacred book, their crucifix, their holy water, their vestments. They didn’t seem to be hurting Rayne any. Just praying over her and sprinkling her with the holy water every now and then. She was still unconscious. As I peered in at them, Tomas looked back at me, his eyes intense. And maybe a little angry.
Just leave it alone, they seemed to be saying.
Just go piss up a rope, I glared back at him.
I was hurt, but damned if I’d let him see that, so I broke eye contact and strode away, ducking into my own room and digging through my purse for my cell phone. Found it, score. Battery good. Signal?
Hell. There were no bars on its face, just the message that it was searching, followed by the dire notification No Service.
I flung the phone onto the bed, then looked toward the window, desperate now, certain that Rayne needed medical help and that she needed it soon. And it was up to me to get it for her. Entirely up to me.
Rivulets of rainwater streamed over the glass, while gusting wind sent new bursts of droplets pounding down. I swallowed hard, moving closer, staring out into the storm. I’m just gonna have to go find help then—or a phone or a signal, whichever comes first.
Nodding in affirmation, I yanked warmer clothes from the dresser. A pair of jeans, a hoodie, heavy and warm. I put on thick socks and hiking boots, and then slipped from my room to the stairs, not taking the time to look in on Rayne again. The sooner I got my beautiful sister-witch out of here, the better. Those two working over her could not be good for her. Not in any way. Waving a crucifix over a witch, ordering the devil out of her—no, that was just wrong on too many levels.
I tried to walk quietly down the stairs, despite the weight of the boots, and managed not to disturb the monotone muttering of the priests in the other guest room. I checked the little bing-bong device that was supposed to signal if a door or my bedroom window were opened during the night.
It won’t be turned on. Tomas set that up to protect me, so I wouldn’t sleepwalk out the door and off the cliff. Only at night, he said. But I was with him last night, so he wouldn’t have bothered to—
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