Strega (Strega Series)

by Karen Monahan Fernandes

  Only high-ranking demons recruit the Cerberus. But we can't figure out what high-ranking demon would want Jay. She is only a child and hardly a threat. There is a reason, I am sure. I just can't imagine what it could be.

  By binding Jay's power, by stopping her dreams and precognition, we risk losing the truth forever. Interfering with her unfolding power could bring unforeseen consequences. But I have to risk it. We discussed every potential drawback, but in the end we found no alternative. It will be harder to track down whoever is sending the Cerberus without Jay's visions to reveal it, but at least she will be protected while we try. Without her power, she cannot be sensed or tracked. They can keep her athame. That is all they are going to get.

  The power binding potion required the consent, and blood, of the triquetra. One drop from each of us with complementary powers, to seal the binding. Celia and Ruth finally consented, but only after I agreed that in time we will teach Jay the ways and unbind her power. I will only do this after we have eliminated her enemies.

  Alanna was completely against binding Jay's power. Even after her own sisters Becky and Vivian consented. Soon after the incessant Cerberus attacks began, they were desperate to save their sister Strega from defeat, to preserve their now broken triquetra of power, and of course to protect Jay. They even made the power binding potion with their own blood. All that was needed was a drop from Alanna, but she still refused. 'It is our family's destiny, mom. Our calling,' she used to say to me, reminding me that we are meant to protect what is good and sacred in this world. That Jay was born with a great gift, as we were, and that she is meant to do great things.

  The day before Alanna died, we talked about it again but her answer was the same. She had just vanquished another of the Cerberus that came for Jay. She carried Jay's blade, luring them straight to her, to protect Jay. Alanna was fast. Her instincts were sharp. She drew her athame and launched it at them before they ever saw it coming. She loved each vanquish, knowing that in her eyes each of them saw the flames that incinerated them. She fought long and hard, and rid the world of so many of them, but the bastards finally got her.

  I wonder if she would feel the same way now, knowing the true cost of this fight, knowing that her daughter would suffer the same fate if I did not stop it. I lost her, my own daughter, and I can't help but wonder if she and Dean would still be alive if we had bound Jay's power.

  Whatever the consequences may be, it is done now. Jay drank the potion about an hour ago, while she helped me make dinner. I chopped an onion to mask my real tears as she took the last few sips of her milk. Her power is bound, and I have no regrets. I only hope that she is truly safe now. I will feel more assured when I see her make it through the night in peace.

  XLV

  When I was a child, I saw magic in everything. The first crocus to pop through the soil in the spring. The peaceful sound of the river water cascading over the rocks on its banks. The great hawks gliding beyond the tallest treetops. I was captivated by brilliant blue lightning, powerful roaring thunder, and the light of the full moon.

  With Mom and Dad, and with Gram, Christmas, Easter, and Halloween were always special celebrations. But unlike most children, I learned that these were old pagan holidays with new names and meaning. And on the summer and winter solstice, and the spring and autumnal equinox, we always sat under the stars by a blazing fire, looking up at the moon and marveling at the mysteries of the universe.

  So many memories that seemed so ordinary were suddenly emerging with new significance, completely warping the landscape of my life as I knew it. The strange stones and crystals I'd find around the house on window sills or buried in the garden. The songs Mom and Gram used to sing. These things that were once so benign were suddenly stepping out of the shadows with giant footsteps, crushing all my perceptions.

  Let evil lose its way this night. Separate this dark from light. Shelter be a steadfast shield. Bring us peace, let us be concealed.

  After Mom and Dad died, I said this prayer with Gram every night before bed. As I got older, we still had our way of saying it.

  Night light!

  Like so many things, I never thought much about its meaning. It was familiar and unquestioned, like the pendant dangling from Gram's chain.

  Wear this and it will protect you from the darkness.

  Something was after me back then, and Gram protected me. The warmth of this notion iced over with a frigid reality. She was gone, and so was that protection. The dreams came back after she died, and this was the reason. They were coming for me again. And they killed her to get to me.

  Did you really think you could hide from us forever?

  The haunting words of my attacker resounded in my mind and made me shudder.

  XLVI

  The door to my bedroom burst open and Rena flew in. I nearly knocked over my cup of coffee as I shoved Gram's journal under a pile of papers.

  "Are you serious?" I clutched my chest and looked up in annoyance. "Thanks for the heart attack."

  "Sorry!" she chirped as she ran toward my closet door. "How is the story coming along?"

  Her hands were full. I knew she'd gone to Gram's house. My initial horror quickly abated. She was standing in front of me, safe and sound.

  "I'm almost done with it," I said, though I hadn't touched it since she left. As she scurried around behind me, I switched my focus to it.

  "I found you the most perfect dress with the most perfect shoes for tonight!" She hung the dress on my closet door and placed the shoes beneath it so I would get the full effect of the ensemble she'd chosen.

  "Where did you get such a gorgeous dress?" she asked exaggeratedly.

  It had to be the black silk dress I wore to my junior prom. I loved that one. But she already knew where I got it—she was with me when I bought it. I turned around to see her standing by my closet, presenting her display with pride and enthusiasm. But I couldn't speak. Only a gasp escaped my lips. I held onto the back of my chair so that I wouldn't fall out of it. There on the door of my closet was the stunning red dress from my dream.

  "I love it! It's got a little Greek goddess flair to it," she said as she adjusted it on the hanger.

  The dress was beautiful. It flowed to the floor. The elegant fabric was gathered on one shoulder with a silver filigree brooch. A thin, delicately-woven silver chain, meant to rest on the hips, wrapped around it. Its amber-jeweled ends dangled just above the knee. The hem was embroidered with strands of silver that shimmered in the light. It was exactly as I remembered it from my dream.

  "Where did you get that?" I demanded more harshly than I intended. I hoped she would say she found it in the spare bedroom with Mom's old stuff, or in Gram's closet. Maybe I'd seen it before, and it made its way into my dream.

  "From your closet, at Gram's. Where else?"

  "My closet? Are you sure?"

  "Yes, your closet. It's the one in your room," she said, making a dumb face at me. "It was hanging up right next to all your other stuff. Dude, how could you forget a dress like this?"

  My phone vibrated across the desk. It was my boss calling, gently pressuring me for the story I owed him. The deadline to production was in an hour, and editorial was anxiously waiting for it. I always submitted my stories early. This was the first time he'd ever called looking for my stuff. I nervously assured him it was on its way. The knot in my stomach doubled. How hard is it to write three paragraphs about the new yoga program at the Senior Center?

  Rena stood quietly beside me. I faked a thank you and pretended to be thrilled with her dress selection as I swallowed the truth again. It slid down my throat like a grand piano. I couldn't look at my closet door.

  "OK, I have to finish some stuff." I signaled to the door, gently hinting for her to get out.

  "As soon as you're done, let me know. I want to do your hair and makeup!" she shouted and zipped out the door.

  I scanned my notes and threw together a story as fast as I could. It was basic, but complete. After a quick final e
dit, I hit send. I closed my laptop and stood up to see Rena standing on the other side of the door, peering at me through a two-inch gap.

  "Oh my god! Rena! What are you doing?" I asked, not knowing how many more jolts I could handle. "How long have you been standing there?"

  "Just a minute or two," she squealed. "I'm sorry! I just didn't want to interrupt you again."

  "I'm done. What is it?" I asked, unable to hide my irritation.

  "I just wanted to ask you...When was the last time you were at Gram's?" She pushed the door open the rest of the way. "Have you gone without me recently?"

  "Um, no," I lied, sure that my nervous tone would incriminate me this time. Why is she asking? What did she see?

  "Oh my god," she started. "When I walked in, I was so freaked out. I wanted to call you."

  I started to sweat. She stared at me as if I knew what she was about to say. I imagined the remnants she must have seen from the night before and I panicked.

  "The first thing I found—a broken vase on the floor. Then, a picture that had fallen off the wall in the living room. There was glass everywhere!"

  I gulped. She knew.

  "I thought someone broke in."

  How is she so calm about this?

  "Turns out, it was a four-legged fur ball that destroyed the place! Apparently she moved in since the last time we were there. She was curled up around my leg the whole time. Don't worry, I cleaned up. The picture needs new glass, and I had to toss the vase. It was in a gazillion pieces."

  "Oh jeez," I said, faking surprise. If only she knew what really happened. "Thanks for cleaning up."

  "I gave kitty some stale crackers. She didn't seem to mind—she was probably starving. Not sure how she made it in, but I let her back out when I left."

  I nodded and smiled as I tried to conceal my shaking hands.

  "We're leaving at three thirty!" Rena shouted on her way out. It was already three. I looked with dread at the dress hanging on the closet door. I had no time to find another. I tore through my closet, but found nothing remotely wedding-appropriate. Especially not for this wedding. I kept telling myself that the dress must be Mom's, or an old one of Gram's. Anything to make it easier to put on.

  Rena gave me the express version of her hair and make-up treatment, and I finally gave in to my fate. I slipped into the jeweled dress. For a moment, I felt like a goddess. The luxurious fabric slid softly across my body. Its silver and amber accents sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. I felt beautiful in it. But I couldn't shake the haunting feeling that I was slipping into my doom. In my dream, I died in that dress.

  XLVII

  "Champagne?"

  Three men with trays of the bubbling golden beverage circulated past us as soon as the ceremony ended. Guests wandered the grounds or congregated in small groups, while the wedding party disappeared down the path to the beach to have photos taken.

  Rena's cousin had married the young heir to a large fortune. The Calbot family's grand estate spread across twenty-five acres on the oceanfront. Inside, elegant furnishings were abound. High ceilings dripped with the most extravagant lighting. Rich, colorful fabrics adorned giant windows and billowed with the salty breeze. Shiny heels clicked against sparkling hardwoods in the grand ballroom, where tables were iced with the finest linens, glistening dinnerware, and beacons of towering glass that erupted with lush, vibrant flowers.

  We circulated through the estate, mingling with hundreds of guests and struggling through conversations with strangers. Before dinner, I'd met most of Rena's extended family. Even the ones she couldn't stand. They were easy to identify. Conceited and self-important, they flocked around Mr. and Mrs. Calbot, desperate to exchange even the smallest word with them so they could boast the amusing and insightful exchanges they'd shared. Like swarms of flies, they circled close to their target, engaging in empty conversation with each other while they waited for their opportunity.

  On the far end of the ballroom, there was a wine bar, a martini bar, and a draft beer bar. The tolerable guests congregated at the beer bar, where they'd already begun their effort to drain every last keg. From across the ballroom, we could hear them howling. Rena finally dragged me in that direction.

  Dinner went on for eight long courses. I had no appetite and struggled to eat at least a few bites from each dish before it disappeared. After the last course landed on our tables, people began abandoning their plates for the dance floor.

  "Come on!" Rena shouted, grabbing my hand and moving determinedly toward the growing crowd.

  "Go ahead. I'll meet you out there. I just have to run to the bathroom." I hated lying to Rena, but it was becoming a full-time job whether I liked it or not. I needed some fresh air. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere, really. And nowhere felt safe.

  Rena ran for the dance floor with someone from our table that she didn't know. I scrolled through my phone for Ruth's number. I was dreading it, but I really needed to call her.

  I walked through the French doors and onto the wooden deck overlooking the manicured grounds. The cobblestone path that cut through lush bushes and sandy cliffs to the ocean was enticing. The music faded as the door closed behind me, and the crashing waves beyond the cliffs replaced it. I relished a quick, peaceful moment alone with the lulling rhythm of the tide. The salty breeze was refreshing on that cool, late summer night. I took in a deep breath and let out a loud sigh.

  "You too?" a voice uttered from behind me.

  I spun around to see a tall man standing by the door with his hands in his pockets.

  "Oops!" I yelped awkwardly. "I didn't realize anybody else was out here!"

  "I'm sorry—did I startle you?"

  I waved my hand and shook my head.

  "Oh no, I'm fine."

  He sauntered over to me in his glossy black suit, and looked down at the fancy nautical watch wrapped around his wrist.

  "Is it over yet?" he asked with a charming smile. His teeth glistened.

  I slipped my phone back into my purse. I couldn't have an audience for the conversation I needed to have with Ruth.

  "So, bride or groom?" he asked, delivering the obligatory question with a smirk.

  "Actually, I'm rescuing my best friend from her family."

  "How noble of you," he said through those perfectly white teeth. He was charming, and very attractive, and it was clear that he was interested in continuing our conversation. A wedding certainly provided a perfect romantic backdrop, but his advances were wasted on me. I was a disaster area. I already had a boyfriend that I couldn't even manage to dump properly, not to mention the fact that demons were after me and I was marked for death. My life was falling apart at the seams. I smiled at him and excused myself.

  I walked to the edge of the deck and stared out over the cliffs into the night sky. I needed to get away from everyone and everything. But a moment later, he was standing next to me again.

  Without a word, I descended the steps off the deck and tossed my shoes in the grass, and then made my way down the cobblestone path to the beach. Brilliant stars were scattered across the open sky. Waves rolled in, deep and commanding, and then crashed in a grand display along the shore. I was surprised to find that no other guests had wandered down to the water, but I was thrilled to finally be alone. I lifted my dress and pranced across the sand toward the waves, longing for the cold ocean water to cascade over my toes. Deep breaths of salty air revived me, giving me a bit of strength to face whatever lay ahead. This moment alone was over as soon as it began.

  "Beautiful down here, isn't it?" The dapper man I'd left on the deck appeared behind me out of nowhere.

  "Oh my god!" I exclaimed, clutching my chest.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I've scared you again."

  "No, I'm fine," I said curtly. I hoped his persistence meant he just couldn't take a hint. He seemed like a nice guy, possibly just clueless. But he'd officially creeped me out. I nodded, and turned to walk away.

  "You know, you really shouldn't b
e down here alone." His tone was strange. And his choice of words was troubling. I turned to him with budding fright, sensing that my decision to come down to the water was a really stupid one. His eyes were cold. His skin was strikingly pale. The warm, handsome face I'd seen just moments before now stared me down like prey.

  I was becoming an adrenaline junkie. It surged through my veins as I realized I'd walked straight into a trap. I started to run. My toes rooted into the sand and pushed me forward as best they could. If I didn't make it back to the path, I hoped I could scream loud enough for someone to hear me.

  "My lovely Jay," his deepening voice whispered. "You're not going anywhere."

  He was right behind me. I felt his breath on my neck and instantly I began to lose my balance. He wrapped his arms around me and held me firmly. Though I struggled at first, soon I couldn't fight him. I was paralyzed. Drugged. His embrace was gentle, almost seductive, and his warm breath continued to intoxicate me. He kissed my neck and my vision began to blur.

  "Did you really think we wouldn't find you?" he whispered as his lips grazed my ear.

  He held me in his arms and we began to move. Fuzzy outlines of houses transformed into streaks of night color as we moved with unnatural speed. I struggled to breathe as I slipped into unconsciousness. I was afraid to think it, to admit what he was, as if denial could protect me from the truth. My mind whispered it anyway, as if a soft acknowledgment would make it less terrifying. Demon.

  My dreams always terrified me. But all previous fears paled in comparison to my new bizarre reality. My mind lingered on the vision of Gram's body, ravaged and torn, her blood spilling profusely onto her clothing, the floor, me. What she must have seen, what Mom and Dad must have seen, and Mr. Whitmore. I was about to see it too, and all I could do was hope that my death was quick.