‘I held you in my arms and laid my hand against your womb. I felt their heartbeats faltering, like the fluttering wings of a wounded bird struggling for life.’
Olivia gasped with the painful realization of how close she had come to losing her children and with that awareness came a new and painful understanding.
‘You saved them,’ she whispered. ‘You didn’t just heal me that day, you saved my children.’
‘Yes I did,’ she answered plainly.
‘Why?’ she breathed heavily, her forehead creased in confusion.
Isabel once again ignored her question.
‘You need to be careful now Olivia,’ Isabel warned. ‘I’m not the only one who has returned to Mercy. Nathaniel is here; I can feel his presence.’
‘Don’t do that,’ Olivia snapped, ‘don’t ignore me. I want to know why.’
‘Why?’
‘Yes why,’ she bit in frustration. ‘Why you saved my children, why you saved me? Why did you protect me from Nathaniel? Why did you shoot me?’
‘Enough,’ Isabel hissed, losing her calm composure and reaching across the desk and gripping Olivia’s wrist tightly. ‘Stop being as stubborn as I am. I am trying to help you. You think I don’t feel the darkness in you? The same darkness which even now pulses through my veins.’
‘I...am…not…like…you,’ she bit out slowly between clenched teeth as she ripped her wrist from her mother’s grip.
‘You’re stronger than I was,’ Isabel replied after a moment, once again leaning back in her seat as she regained her cool composure. ‘It might be enough to save you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The curse that has infected our bloodline for centuries, ever since that damn book,’ she replied quietly, her eyes troubled and distant. ‘You have no idea how toxic it has been, or just what it has cost all of us.’
Her piercing eyes locked on Olivia’s, burning with an emotion Olivia couldn’t put a name to.
‘You think I’m the only one in our family to betray? To spill blood? To covet the book?’
Olivia kept quiet, her mind drawing inadvertently back to the Otherworld, when she had met her ancestor Bridget West, the twin sister of Olivia’s ultimate grandmother Hester West. Bridget had told her almost exactly the same thing.
‘The book is like poison to us and yet we can’t break free of our need for it,’ Isabel shook her head.
‘I don’t want the book,’ Olivia replied coldly.
‘You tell yourself that now,’ there was something almost wistful about her quiet tone, an underlying hint of sadness or maybe regret. ‘You tell yourself your husband is enough, your child is enough.’
‘I’m not you,’ Olivia whispered.
‘No you’re not,’ Isabel’s penetrating gaze locked on hers. ‘But what you want now and what you will want in the future, are two very different things.’
Olivia watched her mother silently, not wanting to admit the fear deep in her heart. The fear that somehow Isabel was right and that the two of them were more alike than she wanted to admit.
‘Tell me Olivia,’ her voice dropped low, ‘has it begun yet? Do you hear it whispering to you? In the stillness of the dark, do you hear its song?’
Olivia gasped quietly.
‘The whispering,’ she breathed, ‘what is it?’
‘It’s the book,’ Isabel told her, with haunted eyes. ‘Infernum is tied so closely to our bloodline that some of us can hear it. It’s singing to us, to our blood. It’s the loudest I’ve ever heard it. Olivia, the book is waking up. It wants to be found.’
‘What do you mean waking up?’ she shook her head in confusion. ‘You make it sound as if it were alive.’
‘It is.’
‘No,’ she gasped, ‘it can’t be. It’s just a book, books aren’t alive.’
‘It’s not just a book Olivia,’ Isabel frowned, ‘it never was. It may have been hidden in the form of a book but it contains within it the power and secrets of ALL the Hell dimensions. Do you really think that something which holds that kind of limitless power would not come with an awareness of its own?’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because it’s time to take off those rose tinted glasses Olivia,’ she told her quietly. ‘Do you want to know the truth about our family, about our precious bloodline?’
Olivia’s blood suddenly ran cold.
‘My mother would have had you brainwashed right from the start, with this impossible idea of our perfect family. A revered bloodline, tasked with the sacred duty of protecting the book. A foolish, romanticized ideal and so far from the truth that they are worlds apart. Our whole history had been one long savage festering wound, filled with betrayal and pain. The truth is, our whole family line fits into two very distinct categories. Those of us who felt the darkness and succumbed to it and those of us who ignored it. But make no mistake, we all felt it.’
‘No,’ Olivia shook her head in denial.
‘There is no use in denying it Olivia,’ Isabel told her bluntly. ‘It will not serve you to ignore it. You want to come out the other side of this? You want to save your children? You have to face the truth and it’s all there right under your nose.’
‘The journals?’ Olivia whispered.
‘The journals,’ Isabel repeated quietly, ‘go back and read them again. Only this time, read them with your eyes open.’
Olivia sat back staring at her mother and Isabel stared right back, neither of them saying another word.
‘Olivia!’ Roni’s rushed voice suddenly broke the silence, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. I’ve had the Governor on the phone about the reception we are supposed to be hosting.’
Roni pulled up short when she realized her friend wasn’t alone.
‘Oh I’m sorry,’ she apologized, ‘I didn’t realize you had company.’
Roni turned towards Isabel and her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to place the familiar looking woman. Olivia saw the exact moment it clicked in Roni’s mind. Her eyes widened and darted from Isabel to Olivia and back again, as if she’d just realized, with the exception of their eyes color, how identical the two women were in appearance.
‘Roni,’ Olivia sighed in resignation, ‘this is my mom.’
Roni’s expression hardened and she moved closer to Olivia, stepping protectively in front of her friend.
‘Miss Mason,’ Isabel’s mouth curved, ‘I like what you’ve done with the place.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied coolly.
Isabel stood slowly, her appraising gaze running down the length of Roni and back up to her icy blue eyes.
‘Say hi to Jake for me,’ her own eyes glittered in amusement.
She glanced down at Olivia, her gaze lingering for a moment before she turned and disappeared from the room.
Roni had her phone out and Jake’s number half dialled when Olivia’s hand closed over hers.
‘Don’t bother Roni,’ she said tiredly.
‘Are you crazy?’ she frowned. ‘Your Mom’s back in Mercy and you think we shouldn’t tell the others?’
‘We will,’ she sighed, ‘but there’s no point in them rushing over here. She’ll be long gone before they turn up, besides…Theo was right about one thing.’
‘What is that?’ she asked in confusion.
‘She’s my mom,’ Olivia’s eyes locked on the empty doorway. ‘Whether I like it or not, she’s a part of me and I need to deal with that.’
Theo leaned back in his chair, his paint spattered boots propped casually on the low dented old trunk which rested next to his favorite chair in his studio, serving as a kind of coffee table. He tipped his head back and took a swig of his beer, his eyes trained on the page in front of him.
The elegant looping scrawl across the page was as familiar to him as his own handwriting. The words seemed to float off the pages and he could almost hear his mother’s voice echoing down thro
ugh time to him. It had been years since he’d heard her soft sweet voice, well centuries technically, but to him it had been a little over twenty years. Despite that, he could still remember her tone as if it were yesterday.
He’d already read the journal from cover to cover several times, but he found he just couldn’t put it down. It was a part of her he’d never known, the only part of her he had left to hold onto. His gaze trailed down the page and once again rested on one of the passages he’d yet to make sense of. Most of the journal had been his mother Emmaline explaining to him about her family, her life, her relationship with James. Another good portion of it was her explaining his magical heritage and instructing him on how to refine his gift, but several pages had been dedicated to her visions themselves. She’d seen many things and some of them she’d obviously felt were so important that she had to warn him. There was one particular passage that caught his attention. He’d read and re-read it, but he still couldn’t make much sense of it.
‘I have seen the symbol of truth, it is a serpent, coiled as if to strike and seared into noble flesh. Beware… Beware the serpent of truth, for that which was conceived of great intent will become corrupted by covetous hearts and minds.’
Theo tapped his fingers against his beer bottle, a restless drumming as his eyes narrowed in thought. Something about that particular passage had him returning to it time and time again. It seemed to him there was something familiar about it, something that plucked and teased at the edge of his consciousness, but every time he reached for that elusive thought it would dance just out of his reach.
It was infuriating, he thought with a silent growl of frustration. He closed the journal with a resounding slap and dropped it down onto the floor next to him. Slipping further down into the tatty threadbare chair he loved so much he let his head fall back and drained his beer.
He needed a distraction. Although he understood Olivia’s need for space, it still made him restless whenever she wasn’t home. Especially, he thought darkly, with Nathaniel on the loose. He was well aware that Isabel West could not be trusted either. The woman had an agenda of her own there was no doubting it, but he was sure that agenda did not include harming her daughter.
No, it was Nathaniel who was the biggest threat to Olivia and their children, and Theo knew it would not be long before he showed up back in Mercy. This time it would not be as Isabel’s damaged puppet, but as a fully-fledged demon lord, with his already substantial powers amped up by the human soul he’d consumed.
It was a thought which had plagued him ever since they’d returned to Mercy. How the hell were they supposed to defeat a demon? There was always the devil’s trap at Boothe’s Hollow, which had been Nathaniel’s prison for three hundred years thanks to Olivia’s ancestor Hester West. He’d given it a great deal of thought but ultimately discarded that idea. Even if they somehow managed to recreate Hester’s spell and trap him back in the Hollow, they’d never be truly free. He would always be there in the woods, on the periphery of their lives. There would also be the chance that he could somehow break free once again.
No, they’d always be looking over their shoulders. It was not the solution. There was also the added fact that, as much as Theo disliked Nathaniel, he wasn’t sure that the demon was stupid enough to fall for the same trap twice.
He wanted him dead, if demons could actually die. He wanted him destroyed, gone forever. He wanted to know that Olivia and their children would be safe. There had to be a way, he frowned. If only he could find it. He dropped the empty bottle down beside his chair and stood slowly. He bent down and scooped up his mother’s journal, placing it carefully on the shelf where it would be safe, before turning towards the library.
If he wanted to destroy his enemy he needed to understand him. Back in the Winter, when both he and Olivia had been trying to figure out what had happened to the Ferryman, they’d had to go right back to the beginning. In order to understand why someone would want to kidnap Charon, they’d had to understand who he was and what he was capable of. Once they understood that, they could deduce who would want to kidnap him and why.
Sometimes to figure out the solution, you had to go back to the beginning, Olivia had taught him that. Know thy enemy; now he understood that particular saying. If he could go back into Nathaniel’s past, if he could understand who he was and how he came to be, maybe he could find his weakness and a way to destroy him.
He stalked resolutely into the newly decorated and organized library. Slowly he began to scan along the shelves, pulling out books which looked promising. Before long he had a huge armful of musty old volumes. Dropping down onto the sofa, he stacked them up next to him and picked up the first one. Slowly he began to flick through the pages looking for any reference to a demon named Nathaniel or his brother Seth.
Settling himself in for a long afternoon he began to read in earnest. One thing was for sure, he was going to find a way to deal with Nathaniel, even if he had to read through every damn book in the library.
5.
Olivia absently stroked her slightly rounded belly as she lay on the couch, her feet propped comfortably on the arm. She turned the page of the journal she held, unaware of the small unconscious frown marring her brow. She’d spent days locked away in the library reading through almost every journal she could find and hadn’t even made a dent. It seemed the women of her family were obsessive about keeping journals. There were so many, almost three hundred years’ worth of her family history. The problem was, how much of it could she trust? With a small hiss of disgust she tossed the journal onto the discarded pile which was growing rapidly.
‘Hey.’
Olivia glanced up at Theo as he stood in the doorway, leaning comfortably against the frame watching her.
‘Hey,’ she sighed.
He wandered into the room and gently lifting her feet he dropped down next to her and settled her feet in his lap.
‘Any luck?’
‘No,’ she replied quietly. ‘The truth is I don’t know what to believe anymore. The problem with journals is that they are not historical fact, they are by their very nature a reflection of the state of mind of the person writing them. It’s difficult to know how much was real and how much was propaganda, designed to perpetuate the myth of the great West women for future generations.’
A strand of hair had come loose from the messy bun she’d scooped off her neck, and reaching out he tucked behind her ear. He frowned at the bitter undertone to her voice. He knew if there was one thing Olivia couldn’t stand it was being lied to and lately she’d felt like there’d been nothing but lies and betrayals by her family. He desperately wanted to help, but he knew this was something she had to come to terms with on her own.
She rubbed her forehead tiredly, letting out a frustrated breath.
‘I hate to admit it but mom was right,’ her gaze dropped to their hands as his fingers entwined with hers. ‘Nothing about my family is as it seems. I’ve not even come close to reading all the journals but what I have read, knowing what I do now and looking at it from a different perspective…’
‘What?’ he asked curiously, ‘what is it?’
She shook her head, she didn’t want to tell him what she’d really found. Not until she could figure out what it all meant. It seemed her mother had been right, nearly all of her ancestors had been able to hear the strange whispering, the same whispering which had been plaguing her ever since Salem. The thing that had really given her a jolt was that none of them had been able to understand the ancient language.
But she had.
She could feel it even now, the pull on her soul. She could feel its seductive siren’s call. She closed her eyes momentarily and pushed the unwelcome thought away. The darkness, her mother had called it. It was inside of all of them, all of the West women.
It was a curse, a sickness that not all of them had been able to survive. She didn’t want Theo to know about the darkness in her heart that, like a shadow, grew an
d spread with each day. It was becoming a conscious effort to resist its call. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t want him to worry while she was pregnant but the truth was, she didn’t want to admit the shame, the weakness inside her which festered and pulsed like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
‘Olivia?’ Theo prompted.
‘What did you find?’
‘Nothing,’ she shook her head after a moment, ‘nothing yet. I still have a lot of journals to go through.’
His eyes locked on hers. He could see she was struggling with something, something she obviously didn’t want to talk about. He didn’t want to push her; he knew how stressful it was having to deal with her mother and with everything that was going on. He could only hope when she was ready she would come to him.
‘What about you?’ Olivia asked, changing the subject. ‘Any luck finding out anything about Nathaniel?’
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘He’s barely mentioned, apart from the Latin book we found last year, which referred to him and his brother Seth and the serpent seal. I haven’t been able to find anything at all. It’s very frustrating. There’s not even any mention of him online.’
‘Sam referred to him several times as a demon lord didn’t he?’ Olivia mused.
‘Yes he did,’ Theo replied as his fingers grazed Olivia’s rounded belly softly. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘If you can’t find any mention of Nathaniel specifically, maybe that wasn’t his original name.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Think about it logically,’ she answered, laying her hand over his as he rubbed her belly soothingly. ‘The title demon lord, implies that not only is he very highly placed but that he’s very old. Hades once said to me, humans get more wrong than they get right, and he has a point. The earliest histories were kept orally before the written word became commonplace. With each re-telling the story adapts and changes, especially when you factor in different dialects and languages. Then, once the stories start being told through the written word it’s written down phonetically, then again translated into different languages. If Nathaniel wasn’t his original name, maybe he is in the histories somewhere, but we’ve been searching in the wrong place.’
The Guardians Complete Series 1 Box Set: Contains Mercy, The Ferryman, Crossroads, Witchfinder, Infernum Page 161