He sighed, “Just remember that I will do what I have to do to ensure your safety.”
I stared at him for a moment before I spoke.
“Right back at ya.”
Logan sighed and brought me close to him. Hopefully the quality he found endearing wouldn’t eventually drive him away.
A scream broke our embrace, and I turned my head to watch a scene of terror unfold.
A crowd gathered at the base of the church where only the night before Logan and I had been. Many were pointing toward the steeple, but there was another group of people as well and they were calmer.
“What is going on?” I whispered.
He shook his head as it became apparent we couldn’t see whatever it was everyone was pointing at.
We moved down the sidewalk a few feet to see a woman wrapped around the very tip of the steeple. She was using her free arm to flap in the wind. This was the same woman as the night before. She wasn’t drunk. She was possessed.
“Oh, no,” I whispered to Logan.
He wrapped his arm around my waist as we both stood helpless. This had my father written all over it.
“Check that out.” I pointed at one of the spectators who had a bright yellow flyer sticking out his back pocket. He was one of the instigators cheering this poor woman on — exactly like last night when she was on the Land Rover.
“I will see the light,” she hollered before letting go of the steeple. Her body fell to the ground with a thud.
***
“Have you ever seen evil like this?” I asked.
“Only when your father’s involved.” Logan grabbed my hand and pulled me across the street to where the very distinct crowds congregated. The EMTs had already taken the woman away, but the horror her act left behind was still in the air.
“Hey!” Logan yelled, coming up behind the guy with the bright yellow evidence of my father sticking out his pocket.
Logan let go of my hand and pushed the guy to get his attention.
“What’s up, man?” The guy asked, spinning around. I was stunned to see how young he was, probably our age. From where we had been standing he looked much older. He was dressed in a striped polo and jeans. It looked like he was in someone else’s clothes because his haircut looked anything but conservative. His straw-colored hair stood in the form of a mini-mohawk, and he had several rings weaving through his ear. He was pretty spindly, but I’m sure that was on purpose.
“Interested in what you’ve got going on,” Logan spoke very quietly.
“How so?” The stranger replied coolly.
“I think you know,” Logan snarled as his fist landed deep into the guy’s gut.
A gust of air escaped before he doubled over from Logan’s fury.
Logan grabbed him and propped him up, making it look like the guy was ill from the scene in front of us. Not like he just got punched in the stomach. The crowd was so blind from what happened earlier to the woman they didn’t even seem to notice this little spectacle. It was amazing how very unobservant the general public could be.
“Can you bring the car right over there?” Logan asked, pointing to the street below.
I nodded, but I didn’t want to miss a thing. Watching Logan in action did something to me I didn’t expect. It was like a magnet pulling me to him. Seeing his grave expression mix with his apparent strength was hard not to admire, but I closed my eyes and nodded not wanting to slow down whatever Logan had planned — if he even had a plan.
I walked quickly to the car and pulled it around. Logan had such a strong grip on the guy that he didn’t dare move in any direction but the one Logan intended.
Logan opened the car door and shoved the guy in the backseat and then plopped himself in the front.
“It wasn’t my fault,” the guy groaned, still in agony from Logan’s punch.
“Where to?” I asked, completely perplexed.
Logan turned around to face our kidnap victim and raised his eyebrows. “You’ll tell us where we need to go, or I’ll have to force it out of you.”
The guy nodded.
“What’s your name?” I asked, turning out to the main road.
“Preston.”
“How long have you been involved?” I questioned him.
“What’s it to you?”
Logan’s jaw clenched, “Don’t disrespect her.”
An internal smile radiated deep within my soul. I liked this support. There was no denying it.
Preston moved slowly in the seat, grasping at his stomach, grimacing.
“A few weeks,” he replied. “Take a left up ahead.”
I nodded, following his direction and wondered how much he might actually know.
“What got you involved with the activities?” Logan asked, his voice a little softer than before.
“They’re trying to do really good things at the camp. Working on fears that we have or whatever we feel is keeping us down,” Preston responded.
“Did that woman have a fear of flying?” I asked perturbed.
He nodded, “That and heights.”
“So now she’s dead or close to it. How’s that helpful?” I asked, unable to hide my anger.
Preston didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t take his eyes off of him. The mountain road we drove on seemed to go on forever. With every turn of the road, the homes were less visible and the wilderness more present. It wasn’t a place I wanted to break down.
“What are you trying to work on, Preston?” I asked.
“Acceptance.” His voice sounded desperate.
“You want to be accepted or you want to be able to accept others?” Logan turned in his seat so he could get a better view of Preston.
“I want to be accepted,” he mumbled.
“Who’s teaching everything?” I asked.
“His name is Nicholas Stephen. We only meet with him one on one in the beginning, but then we’re divided into groups he thinks will work out best based on our particular needs.”
It was hard not to pull over the car and shake this kid. How could he not see what this really was?
“Do you stay on the property?” Logan asked, glancing at me quickly.
Preston nodded, “Mostly. It’s a pretty incredible experience. You might want to try it. With your anger issues and all.”
Logan’s lips tightened, and I did my best not to drive us off the road as I hid my laughter. If only he knew.
“Yeah, we’re thinking about it,” I replied.
“The meeting sessions along with the supplements he provides makes things much clearer,” Preston continued.
“Supplements?” Logan and I asked in unison.
“Many kinds, depending on our issues. All of us receive the Boletus mixture. It’s like a shake and tastes great. Kind of earthy.”
“Sounds delightful.” I rolled my eyes for only Logan to see.
“Up ahead is a clearing. This is where the Great Camp starts. Isn’t it gorgeous?” he asked.
I pulled the car off the road.
“How do you get there? There’s no road?”
“Not to get to the house. You have to take one of the canoes that are always left right up there.” He pointed ahead and began shifting uncomfortably in the seat.
“You’ve been quite helpful,” I said. “ We both hope you find what you’re looking for. But it comes from inside, Preston. No one can provide that except you. I only hope you figure that out before it’s too late.”
Logan shook his head as if to tell me it was already too late to save him.
“Does this Nicholas have a partner of some sort?”
“There’s a woman who accompanies him to lots of things, but she doesn’t provide guidance or anything. Someone told me that Nicholas considers her a hard case. Yet to completely see the light he allows her to accompany him to most everything so she can see for herself the good he can produce.”
“I see,” I murmured, nodding my head.
“I hope you two find what you’re hoping to,” P
reston replied. “My guess is that it’s inside the camp. You’d be surprised how at peace you can become.”
The rage was building inside of me, and I closed my eyes not allowing my heart to hear anymore. Listening to what this guy had to say was frightening, but it allowed me to glimpse how my father was handling things. I needed to know more, and there was only one way to find out. I pushed that thought aside as Logan’s voice brought me back to reality.
“You can get out now,” Logan said to Preston.
We both heard a grunt as he got out of the car.
“You did a number on him,” I whispered.
Logan smiled as we both watched him trundle off in the direction of the lake. I turned the car around and got back on the road.
“What do you make of it?” I asked, rolling down the window for some fresh air. The car felt very constricting as I tried to process everything Preston had told us.
“I think your father’s feeding them something pretty awful,” he replied.
“Mentally or physically?” I asked.
“Both,” he replied grimly.
“Do you smell that?” I asked, rolling the windows back up.
“Yeah, I do. Pull over,” Logan pointed to a turnoff up ahead.
We got out of the car, and I realized I smelled something earthy.
“Mushrooms,” I replied.
Logan let out a sigh.
“That’s what my father’s using. That poor woman on the steeple was probably on some hallucinogenic mushroom.”
“They probably all are… of some sort or another. He must be growing them around here. I really think —”
“Mushrooms like that are nearly impossible to propagate.”
“Not happening,” Logan interrupted, getting back in the car.
Following his lead, I climbed in the driver’s seat to take us back to our place.
“I think it’s the only way,” I attempted again.
He shook his head, but I knew I would do what I needed to whether I had his approval or not.
Many minutes of silence passed between us. I glanced quickly at him and his face was devoid of expression.
“I’m worried that you’re going to grow to hate me,” I announced, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.
“Where did that come from?” he questioned, turning to face me.
I took a deep breath in.
“If it’s true my father kill—”
“Triss, you’ve got to quit acting like everything is your fault or that you have any control over others’ actions. If your father was responsible for my father’s death, it has nothing to do with you. I don’t understand why you’d even go there.”
“I don’t want to be a constant reminder of everything bad that’s happened to you,” I whispered. “I’ve seen your expression change over the last couple of days, since I told you about what I saw.”
“You don’t think it could be for a variety of other reasons?” he questioned. “It’s not like the last few days have been all that pleasant. We’re dealing with a very evil man and every day we find out even more than the previous day. Am I angry about my father’s death? Beyond. Do I hope for payback? Absolutely.”
“I feel like your change happened after I told you. I mean I’d understand completely. What are you thinking?”
He sighed. “I know you’ve decided to do something that I can’t stop. I don’t want you to explore that side of things — ever. Justified or not. The one thing that is protecting for you from the creatures your father sends is the one boundary I’m afraid you want to cross.”
“Somebody’s got to stop him,” I murmured.
“It doesn’t need to be you.”
We had printed all of the pages I had managed to scan from my family’s spell books and spread them over every surface in the house.
“How did my mom ever get hooked up with my dad? She’s the exact opposite of him. Her entire family fought against this kind of evil. And why would Aunt Vieta just get up and turn? It doesn’t make sense.
“Check this out. I’ve barely scratched the surface, but here are some of the connections I’ve been able to make between my father’s family and witch hunts beginning in Europe,” I said finishing up my last one. “Not surprisingly, when they moved to America so did the hunting.”
He came over from the dining table he’d been canvasing.
“Check it out.” I shoved the notebook in front of Logan with my list.
1587 – Germany (Trier peak)
1590 – Scotland (North Berwick)
1603 -1606 Germany (Fulda)
1626 – 1631 Germany (Würzburg and Bamberg Witch Trials)
1648 –NH (Portsmouth)
1656-1680 NH (Hampton)
“Whoa,” Logan looked up with a mixture of reverence and dread. “These are different than the ones I put together.”
“That’s not comforting,” I sighed, feeling a pounding headache at the base of my skull waiting for its moment to take over completely. Do we have any coffee?”
Massaging my neck, I contemplated what this really told us beyond the obvious. What had my father’s family been trying to incite for hundreds of years? Trying to steal property from other witches? Creating distrust in witch communities? What was it exactly that they hoped to achieve?
“I’ll grab some. You okay?” he asked. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“Yeah, I’m just exhausted.”
“I don’t think we should wait any longer. The only way we’ll know is if I go in there.” I glanced at him still in the kitchen.
“If I go into the compound,” I repeated, a bit louder.
“I knew what you meant the first time,” he snapped. Logan spun around, forgoing the coffee, and arrived by my side.
“No, you’re not going in there,” he said softly, calmly this time.
“It’s not up for discussion. He’s my father. My mother’s been captured. Your mother’s been captured. I’m the one who can find things out. You burned your bridges. I haven’t.”
“Please, Triss. Don’t do this. We don’t need to know his motives to get our mothers back.” He sounded desperate. I knew he didn’t even believe what he was saying.
“You can’t protect me from everything,” I started.
“Well, not if you’re going to be ridiculous,” he argued. “There’s no guaranteeing you’d come out.”
“Do we really believe that I’ll be safe going forward with him out in the world? If I don’t attempt something this constant pursuit will never end because we won’t know the basis for his actions.”
His glare was cold and distant. He moved across the room, it seemed, as far away from me as he could get.
“Why don’t you understand? Your mom’s in there too,” I accused more than questioned.
“I’m afraid he’ll convince you of things you’d never do if you were out of the confines of his walls. I want my mom to be okay. I want her to be with me this very moment. And believe me knowing he had something to do with my father’s death boosts my hatred into an entirely new category,” he replied, pausing for a moment. “But we’ve both lost almost everyone we’ve loved to him. Why would I rush to give him the last person I have left?”
Opening my mind to what his words implied made me realize how selfish I was being. Would I want him to go in there, leaving me on the outside? Absolutely not, but something was driving me or pulling me to face my father. I wanted to expose his hidden demons. The pull on my heart was becoming too strong to ignore. I could no longer neglect my responsibility in this mess, and I needed Logan to acknowledge that.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t want you to go in there either. You’re all I’ve got as well,” I whispered.
“The problem is that you’ll have your entire family in there coaxing you. It’s beyond risky,” his voice softened, as he realized I was listening to him.
I understood.
When he looked over at me, his gaze fell to the floor. He knew I had made my decision, an
d there was nothing he could do to stop me even though I understood his concerns.
“I never should’ve told you how much I admired your stubbornness.” He attempted a grin.
I went to the couch he was sitting on and laid my head down on his lap. His fingers slowly traced my cheekbone.
“Promise you’ll help me,” I said, looking into blue eyes that were filled with an acceptance now.
“Always, my love,” he whispered.
“Kiss me please,” I pleaded. The pull of desire running through my body couldn’t be contained as our emotions cascaded from love down to heartache reaching back to betrayal all within seconds. The twisted emotions mingling between us created an intimacy — a rawness — that I hadn’t experienced before.
He stood up leaving me on the couch, and I immediately began panicking.
“Remember our choices seal our destiny,” he breathed.
My confidence began cowering in the corner of my mind as I realize that I might have lost him, over my father. I closed my eyes and pulled in a deep breath as I thought about what I was doing.
Not hearing any footsteps leave, I opened my eyes to see him watching me, smiling with a bemused expression. My skin flushed as he bent down, merely hovering over me. His closeness created an unstoppable electricity between us.
“Will you do me the favor of allowing for a dry-run and coming up with a solid plan before you enter his camp?”
I nodded in desperation.
He began kissing me with a passion that was beyond exhilarating. I wanted more. I wanted to be held. When I reached my hands to his face, he backed away.
“What are you doing?” I murmured confused.
“Letting my absence sink in,” he smirked.
I gasped.
He grabbed my hand and led me outside to one of the paths.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“I had a little something planned for us,” he paused, “before everything took a sudden turn.”
My heart started beating faster as we approached an area that had candles circling a blanket.
“How?” I asked. “Candles out here?”
“LEDs, actually,” he laughed. “Out of all of this, that’s what you pick up on?”
Witch Avenue Series (The Complete Set) Page 35