“Do you believe this shit about the Wild Hunt?” I asked, switching subjects as my random brain kicked in. My coffee had grown cold and though I hadn’t believed it possible, it tasted even worse.
Pushing away her plate, she took a slug of cider. “Depends what you mean. Yes, I believe in the Wild Hunt. I’ve heard it. You have to have heard it too, you’re at work when it comes through. That temple is pretty sound proof, but for some reason the damn hunt comes through the walls loud and clear. But, the Hunt getting our girls? No. There’s something fishy about the pattern of disappearances, the lack of bodies, and the fact that they’re all guards for Edward.” She paused, her angelic face thoughtful. “Though, I have heard that the Hunt prefers to take the souls of people like us. People who are extraordinary. There’s a rumor that little nine year old from yesterday was telekinetic.”
We sat in silence for a minute, each of us lost in our thoughts. “So, what are your theories?” I asked as she said, “What do you think?” We laughed.
“My theory is full of holes,” she answered, tipping back the last of her cider and thunking the empty bottle to the table. “It has to be someone who has it in for the temple. And there’s definitely a reason it’s been just the girls. There’s not a single instance of a guy going missing.”
“It does seem personal, doesn’t it?” I stared at the wall ahead of me, watching the blonde a couple booths up shift in their seat. “I’m going to try to contact her again. Anya, I mean.”
“Good plan. I’ll see if I can’t find Rebecca.”
"Is that what you do, then? Speak to spirits?”
“That is my only claim to fame. Without the speed or strength, I’m lucky to have gotten the job. It was just my proximity and Uncle Remus’ relationship with Edward that got me in.”
The way she said relationship made me laugh. “Relationship, as in relationship?” I giggled.
Melissa gave a knowing grin and nodded slowly. “Mm-hmm, that kind…”
“That’s pretty cute,” I replied, leaning back in the booth. “Did you want another cider? I’d like to try it. May help me sleep.”
After I spoke with the chesty redhead behind the bar, I passed Melissa a cider and took my first experimental drink. It was delicious. Sharp and tangy, like liquid apples and underlying alcohol. Melissa laughed at my expression of contentment, and said, “Tell me about yourself, Vale.”
“There is not much to tell, my friend,” I answered honestly. “I grew up in a small town in Mississippi and moved to a small town in England. I imagine that says a lot about me.”
She giggled. “What brought you here?”
I thought about the little red dart and the hole in Dane’s living room wall. Then, I thought of the apartment, the long white envelope, and Theresa’s life-long belief in fate. “I’m honestly not sure anymore.”
Chapter 5
My third night as temple security passed uneventfully. Anya was nowhere to be seen or felt, no matter how many times I circled the great room and called her name. The sounds outside between midnight and three weren’t as strong as usual, though for an hour or so, I would swear there were horses right outside the door.
I got a two line email from Macy: “I found the container in the trash. Ben and Jerry Cookie Dough ice cream.” I puzzled over it a bit. Theresa was very vegan and in my lifetime, I’d never seen her eat anything not on her usual diet. I shrugged and emailed Macy back. “Quit seeing shadows where there are none. Everyone needs ice cream now and then.”
At four, I saw a lanky, dark haired boy making his way up the path. When he passed through the columns and reached the door, he waved into the camera, giving me a crooked grin.
I clicked across the floor in my high heels and started unlocking the door. “What do you think, Cerri? Do I trust this stranger?”
She just gazed back at me serenely.
“Hello, you must be Vale?” His English was heavily accented. “I am Nikolas Ivanov. Brett had to take a trip so I will be covering his shift this morning.”
I remembered Melissa mentioning a Nikolas who was a floater like she. He was unnaturally tall and thin, with big hands and huge feet. His face was long and angular, his chin covered in a patch of dark hair that matched the close cut hair on his head. I admired the multicolored sweater he wore. It looked like something I’d wear. “Nikolas, it’s great to meet you. Where did he go?”
“Who?” he asked in confusion, his black and white Chucks stepping through the door.
“Brett. You said he had to take a trip. Where did he go?”
“Oh.” He gave a unconcerned shrug. “I do not know. Edward called me this morning to ask me to come work.”
We exchanged keys and goodbyes. The morning was deeply chilled, and I felt it in my bones. I wrapped my silver pea coat tighter around my body and tucked my bare fingers under my arms, mentally chiding myself for forgetting my scarf and gloves.
The forest was quieter than usual. The normal early morning squall of bird calls and insects was suspiciously absent, like nature was waiting, holding it’s breath. I shivered, my breath a white cloud popping in and out of the air before my face. I gazed around into the darkness where it sat claustrophobic on either side of the path. For a split second, I thought I felt someone there. A heartbeat and the catch of a breath…then it was gone. I stopped, opening my senses and probing the trees.
Emptiness. Rabbit heartbeats. Sighs of deer. Nothing out of place.
Nikolas drove a sleek black Honda with a pristine interior. I dropped into his leather driver’s seat, terrified of sitting in it the wrong way. It made my heart beat faster that I’d have to drive it across town and keep it in one piece. It was a far cry from Brett’s ancient POS.
If there is a goddess, please get me to headquarters safely, I pleaded, turning the key gingerly in the ignition. Loath to push any buttons, I crawled along the empty roads in silence, his car so quiet under me I could have forgotten I was even driving.
The staple receptionist beamed perkily at me. Did the woman ever have a bad day? “Morning, Katherine. How are you?”
“I’m wonderful!” she chirped, leaning forward on her elbows. She was wearing a garish shade of purple eye-shadow. “I just found out yesterday that I’m to be an aunt!”
“Congratulations,” I told her sincerely, scrawling my name across the clipboard before grabbing my keys. “That’s certainly chance for celebration.”
“Oh, indeed,” she said sagely, nodding her head. She stood, and I realized she was almost as tall as me. The desk was a liar. “Would you care to go out with a bunch of us this weekend? It’s Fran in the mail room’s birthday.”
I pondered her white smile, lips like blood. Something didn’t set well around her, but I knew I really needed to get out of the house. “Will Melissa be coming?” I blurted out before thinking.
Katherine looked hurt. “Um, I suppose. You’re welcome to ask her.”
“Okay, that sounds great.” I printed my phone number on the back of one of Edward’s business cards and passed it to her. “Give me a call to let me know the details.”
She perked back up, waving the card at me. “Sleep well, Vale!”
What a weird, but nice, chick.
*********
The message light was blinking furiously when I got home. Addie met me at the door with an indignant huff, turning on her heel and sashaying away as I bent to scratch her ears. “Fine, walk away, you snooty brat,” I called after her as she disappeared around the corner of the kitchen counter. I pressed the play button and pulled out the small bag of cat food to fill the Queen’s dish.
“Hey, Vale, it’s Brett. Look, I’m heading out of town for a couple days, Nik’s probably gonna cover my shift tonight, but the next two days are my normals. You’ll meet Melissa, she’s our floater. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we’re still on for Friday. I should be back by then. I’ll give you a call when I return.”
His voice melted my insides, even coming across the answe
ring machine. I closed my eyes, wondering what it would feel like to have him murmur his British words against my skin, and I flushed all over. Big sign it’d been much too long since I’d last had sex.
It was hard, having sex with someone that didn’t possess abnormal strength. I’d had my fair share of boyfriends through high school and beyond. Once I’d reigned in the orgasmo touch, I branched out into sexual experimentation with the same zeal any normal sixteen year old did. I lost my virginity to Robert Doyle, the senior valedictorian, in the back of his 89 Chevy truck after the Homecoming game my junior year. When I moved to Quicksilver, he was married with eight kids and running the gas station. His wife was bigger than a house. Talk about Most Likely to Succeed.
I never had sex with a guy more than once. It didn’t get past me that obviously I expressed an exuberance that freaked them out.
Thinking about sex with Brett, and the possibility of not having to hold back, I fell into bed. It was comfy, but not as soft and warm as my old waterbed back home. The story of my life in the English countryside.
Chapter 6
Anya came back that night.
Jordan met me at the door at ten on the dot, a scowl across his broad face. His hair was slicked back into a short, immovable ponytail that just barely brushed the collar of his red polo. “Could you please consider getting to work a moment or two earlier than your scheduled time?”
“No,” I told him sweetly, taking the keys from his hand and slamming the door in his face. I giggled evilly as a split second passed before he pounded on the door. I opened it with my best look of shock. “My goodness, Jordan, I forgot to give you my car keys. That would have been a long walk!”
His handsome face was thunderous. He ripped the keys from my hand and took off, muttering unintelligible curses under his breath.
“You shouldn’t taunt him,” a winsome voice carried from behind me as I was locking the door. I turned, catching sight of a half formed Anya sitting at Cerridwen’s feet. Her soulful eyes twinkled at me, then up to the goddess’ serene face. “I would sit here, with the goddess, when I would be homesick. My parents, they died when I was a girl. I moved here with my best friend, Bella, when I was old enough, leaving behind my abusive brother.” She wavered in and out of the spotlight as I made my way to her. The torches were out again.
“I’m sorry, that’s terrible,” I answered, hefting myself to the stone to prop up beside her. I could feel the cold from her seeping through my hooded sweatshirt. “Anya, why shouldn’t I taunt him?”
“Temper, temper, daddy’s got a temper,” she murmured, her face blinking out for a moment. The sight of her transparent body with a black hole for a face gave me the shudders, like something out of a nightmare. “Don’t let him know your weaknesses.”
“Anya? Do you remember how you died?” I tried again, as the rest of her began to fade.
“Dead men tell no tales,” she giggled hysterically, and was gone.
“Temper, temper, daddy’s got a temper,” I whispered slowly, stroking Cerridwen’s leg. “Her dad? Jordan? What the hell?”
I admit, I got a wild hair. One of those my-parents-are-witches-and-I’ve-been-taught-to-trust-the-universe wild hairs. Dropping to the floor, my black combat boots ungracefully clomping on the stone, I raced for the office.
“How do you scry?” I asked as soon as Macy answered, music playing in the background.
“Random,” she answered with a laugh, and murmured to someone in the background before going on. “Since when are you interested in prophecy?”
“Since I’m all wrapped up in a mystery burrito. Tell me what to do.”
I made a list of Macy’s instructions, frowning as she kept repeating “What you are comfortable using is up to you” and “it’s different for every person.” It was possible everything I needed was in the storage room of the temple. I hurriedly thanked her and hung up the office phone, hoping Edward wouldn’t mind the long distance call.
The storage room was stuffy and confined. Clutching my hastily scrawled list, I found a sage bundle, a purple candle, and a wide, flat black bowl. I lugged my findings into the ritual room, ripping a torch from the wall and tossing it into the circular brassiere. The small flame flared into a controllable fire, orange tongues licking towards the ceiling high above me. I filled the bowl with water from the bathroom, flicked off the outside cameras, and closed the tower doors.
“Do you need a crash course in building a circle, or can you manage to remember that all on your own?” Macy had asked sarcastically. All the years I’d watched my parents cast sacred space weren’t in vain—I remembered.
On a whim, I yanked a purple robe from its hanger in the storage room. It settled around my shoulders as if it belonged, hugging my arms and upper body before it flared around my ankles. My parents, bless their little all-natural pagan hearts, did their rituals nude—skyclad is not just a cool name for a rock band. It made for a weird childhood.
Kicking off my boots outside the door, I entered the ritual room and let the door slam shut behind me. The bowl, candle, and sage bundle lay in the middle of the copper circle beside a box of matches. The spotlights on the goddess statues were dimmed, and the fire in the brassiere popped merrily at the Southern Quarter.
The wind was beginning to pick up outside, earlier than it usually did. I could feel the electricity in the air, even inside the temple. It crackled between my hands like a living thing. I couldn’t see it, but if I listened to my mother, it was there. Closing my eyes, I began a slow walk Deosil, or clockwise, around the copper circle, my left hand trailing my side as I imagined the electricity I pulled from the air spinning from my palm into the metal on the floor. I chanted, “Sacred circle I thee cast,” three times, my voice hollow in the stone room.
I stilled before the Northern Quarter and took a deep breath, closing my eyes and lifting my hands. “Powers of Earth, spirits of the North, I ask of you your presence in this sacred space.”
The power in my voice thrilled me, sending goose bumps rushing across my body. I followed the pattern, East and Air, South and Fire, and ended with the West and Water, my heart pounding as I felt the presence of beings I’d never fully understood.
Intention, Dane has always stressed. Intention is what makes magic. When I knelt before the bowl of water, black surface shimmering in a breeze that wasn’t there, my hands were shaking. I told the tools before me, “What the hell am I doing? I don’t do magic.” I almost wish they had answered back with some sound advice.
I struck a match on the box, the swish of the flame comforting. The candle flared to life. The sage bundle smoldered. Waving it in the air around my body, I inhaled deeply, working to calm my body. Deep breaths.
I dropped the sage to the floor where it continued to burn, wisps of fragrant smoke drifting towards the high ceiling. Lifting the candle in its clear glass holder, I positioned it at the north end of the bowl, and myself at the south end. The flame’s reflection burned steadily on the surface of the water.
Between the warmth of the robe, the smell of the sage, and the flickering of the candle on water, I felt the fall of the veil over me. I thought I’d have to work at it, push for it, but as Theresa had always told me, the magic was there, inside me.
The water shimmered, shadows taking shape before my eyes. They were vaguely humanoid black voids radiating anger and evil. Soulless. I shuddered, clutching the robe tighter and leaning forward.
The ritual room reflected clearly on the water, making me frown. Macy had said what I would see would be up to interpretation; the water would take on a life of its own. Inside the circle, I shouldn’t be seeing the room on the surface. The black figures shuffled around the room, the flicker of the flame between them. They raised arms, hands clasped before the flame. I felt the rising of power like it was crawling on my skin. It was unclean. I felt it gripping my ankles beneath me, sliding up my body as if I were sinking in mire. Terror struck me and I felt the panic attack coming, my gasps quickening. The power
took my hands and they fell useless at my sides, knuckles brushing the floor. It crept up my neck, into my face, and exploded as I screamed at the ceiling.
*********
I came to in silence on my side, surrounded by water. The bowl was shattered in tiny pieces throughout the circle, piled near the copper as if they’d hit a real barrier. The candle was extinguished, presumably by the water, and the sage bundle soggy. I pushed myself to my elbows, lightheaded, waiting for the room to stop spinning before I staggered to my feet.
I rushed through the process of dismissing the quarters and opening the circle, my body shaking as the adrenaline wore off. My skin was hot and flushed, my knees weak. Cleaning up the room was a matter of going through the motions, my mind going over and over the prophecy I’d been given.
*********
When I returned to the office, scented with lavender from the quick shower I’d had in the fancy bathroom, I had an email from Macy.
I clicked through the link she’d sent, and it opened up a new page on Youtube. It began to play automatically, the picture grainy, but I recognized what I was seeing. It was the Women’s Clinic on the main strip in Frog Lick.
And there was my mother, cool as a cucumber, parking her little American-made hybrid along the street. I watched as she spilled from the car in a long, yellow dress, a matching scarf wrapped around her head so her face was nearly hidden. She took a couple coins from her heavy over-the-shoulder bag and dropped them in the meter.
Then, she walked into the clinic, and I drew a quick, surprised breath.
The video ended there and words began to type across the screen. Macy had always been the most techno-savvy of us all. “I’m starting to get worried.”
“You were already worried,” I answered.
More blue letters on a black background. “Call me later.”
I closed the window and went back to her email.
The Temple Page 6