by K D Grace
She sucked a deep breath and wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. ‘Deacon made some kind of arrangement with a demon, some dark spirit whose name there’s no record of, as far as we can tell. There are accounts of events, incidents that, in retrospect, we think were probably the acts of this demon. At first, all the lives were sacrifices to the demon. But Deacon wanted more than just to be the demon’s minion, Deacon wanted to be the vessel for this demon. LaRayna Stone couldn’t have known that when she killed him, nor do any of us really know what binds him to the demon.’ She looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching around the empty cup. ‘If we ever hope to defeat him, then we have to find that out. We have to find out how to separate Deacon from the demon and destroy the demon if any of us is to survive.’
All the while Tim had been listening to Fiori’s story, something had niggled at the back of his mind, and it was suddenly clear to him. ‘Fiori …’ he tried to reposition himself to get more comfortable. ‘… There haven’t been burnings of witches in a very long time, and yet you say Deacon and Tara’s mother were contemporaries. How can that be?’
Fiori held his gaze. ‘Barring accidents or other misfortunes, ghost riders are very long lived, Tim.’
‘How long?’
‘LaRayna Stone was one hundred and fifty when she died in a riding accident. Tara was born in Colonial America, and I was born just after the second Jacobite rebellion.’
‘I see.’ The fact that he took this information in as though she had just given him the weather report for the fells was a testament to just how much he had been forced to take on board in the last few months. He wondered what it would take to shock him now. But then he was certain he really didn’t want to know. ‘And Marie and me, will we also age slowly?’
She nodded. ‘All riders do. They age slowly, and there are very few new ones born. Tara’s mother is the only rider I know of to ever birth another rider. It’s seldom inherited.’
For a long moment they both sat in silence lost in their own thoughts. At last Tim looked up at her and forced another painful breath. ‘If I’m a rider, then I’m one of you. You won’t shut me out this time?’
She shook her head. ‘That was a very foolish mistake meant to protect you.’ She nodded to his bruised ribs. ‘Obviously, we can no longer afford to keep you in the dark.’
‘You’ll train me, show me what I need to know?’
She held his gaze. ‘We would have always trained you if you would have let us.’ She looked down at her watch. ‘Now, if you’re up for it, get cleaned up and we’ll meet the others over at Elemental Cottage. This time, I promise there’ll be no more secrets.’
‘I’m up for it. But I need to do the chores first, the farm won’t run itself.’
Her mouth became a thin line and she folded her arms across her chest. ‘Obviously you’re not fit to do the chores Tim. Tiggs and Finny are taking care of it. They are farmers, after all. And Michael is helping out with the mare. He was quite the equestrian when he was alive.’
He cursed under his breath. ‘And just how the hell are they going to do that? They’re ghosts.’
The flash of fire in Fiori’s eyes made him instantly regret his outburst. ‘I enfleshed them, Tim.’ Her voice was suddenly cold. ‘They’ll stay in the flesh as long as I remain awake, and since I now happen to be a ghost too, that’ll be for as long as I need them, and as long as I’m needed. That is if it wouldn’t be too degrading for you to have ghosts working your precious farm. Now get a shower. We have work to do.’ She grabbed up the tray and spun on her heels. Then turned back to face him. ‘I didn’t make you what you are, Tim Meriwether, and I didn’t want to die, but we get what we get, don’t we?’ Then she disappeared into the kitchen and Tim hobbled to the shower feeling worse things than bruises and abrasions.
Marie had had another shower, this time with Anderson, and it had taken a very long time to get around to actually bathing. She was now dressed in a flounce-skirted sundress which she had borrowed from Sky. It felt very naughty and barely there. Anderson, wearing his usual dark trousers and jacket, had watched her dress with lustful eyes. In spite of just having had more orgasms than she could count, his hungry gaze had left her with wet knickers, something there would be no time to do anything about before they met the others downstairs. But when Anderson moved in from behind, folded his arms around her and slid his hands inside the come-hither bodice to cup her braless breasts, she held him to her and sighed. ‘We’ll have to wait or we’ll be late. Maybe tonight.’
‘Sadly, not tonight, my love. Tonight Tim Meriwether will need you in his bed, I think.’
Her heart gave a little flutter. ‘He may not want me in his bed knowing that I’ve shared yours.’ She leaned back against the ghost. ‘That doesn’t bother you? Me sharing both your beds.’
He dropped a kiss on her neck. ‘I would like it better if I were also invited to share Tim Meriwether’s bed.’ He heaved a Gallic sigh. ‘But then again, in his weakened condition the addition of my sexual demands into the equation might be more than can be expected of the man at the moment.’ He nodded as though he had come to a very important decision which involved the stroking and tweaking of her nipples, ‘Yes, I think the man will do well to survive your tender ministerings, let alone those of the two of us combined.’
The thought of the three of them in the same bed did nothing to ease the dampened condition of Marie’s knickers. ‘You’d like that, would you? To have sex with Tim, I mean?’
‘Of course I would like that.’ He relocated a hand to slide up her thigh and into the front of her panties. ‘And the excited condition of your womanhood suggests that you might also find such an arrangement pleasing.’
He scissored two fingers into her sticky pout while the rough pad of his thumb went to work on her clit. She tensed and shifted and rubbed her scantily-clad arse back against the bulge threatening the integrity of Anderson’s immaculate trousers. Her skirt had ridden up until only her knickers separated her undulating arse from his fly, and he responded by matching her, undulation for undulation. ‘Shall you make me come in my trousers, Marie?’ he grunted. ‘It seems unavoidable under our present circumstances.’ The last words were barely forced between his lips before he convulsed and uttered what might have been a stream of foreign expletives. It might have been the day’s grocery list for all Marie cared as she rode his dancing fingers to her own shuddering orgasm.
‘Leave it,’ Anderson said when she shoved away toward the bathroom for a quick clean-up. He held her gaze. ‘Sadly, I’m sure you must have noticed the one thing I am incapable of in the flesh is a scent of my own. It is the part of my condition I regret the most. I had a very virile scent.’ He licked her juices from his fingers. ‘But it is sex magic that is practised in this household, and with what we are to face, the ambrosial smell of your sex is powerful magic, the scent of the ultimate creative force in the world.’ He rested a hand low against her belly. ‘Never underestimate that force, my dear Marie.’
‘Oh, and my love, perhaps you would like to know,’ Anderson turned her to face him. ‘Tim Meriwether’s impassioned cry for me to go to your aid nearly split the Ether in twain last night. There were others upon whom he could have called, but he did not. It is possible he does not dislike me too terribly, nor is he completely opposed to me taking my sexual pleasure with you.’
She felt a shiver of tenderness beneath her rib cage. ‘I didn’t know.’
Before they could continue the intriguing conversation, there was a soft knock on the door and Sky poked her head inside. ‘Tim and Fiori have just arrived.’
Only a few hours ago, Tim would have never imagined that he would be returning to Elemental Cottage as an invited guest rather than a gate-crasher, and with Fiori on his arm. Well, actually he was on her arm, which made walking a whole lot less painful. A little while before they left, she had given him some kind of herbal draft that tasted like something she’d had Michael shovel out of the mare’s stable. She might have
done just that, as angry as she had been at him earlier, but whatever it was, it had taken the edge off the pain and made him feel quite mellow, which was a good thing considering where he was and what was about to happen.
Flanked by tall and willowy Sky, Tara greeted her reluctant guest with a smile that seemed warm enough, warmer than he deserved, he was sure. She wore a thin summer wraparound dress with a flowing skirt and a deep-cut bodice. Her hair was done in a loose knot on the top of her head with a single red rose resting in the nest of shiny dark curls. Though she looked the epitome of feminine beauty and grace, for an instant, he saw in his mind’s eye the woman on the fell top, who wielded expertly a bad-arse, magical sword. The thought stirred him more than he would have thought possible, made him blush, tightened his nipples and forced him to readjust his stance so his cock sat more comfortably in his jeans.
‘Welcome to Elemental Cottage, Tim Meriwether.’ Her voice drew his attention back to the gracious woman standing in front of him, the 250-year-old woman standing in front of him, he reminded himself.
He had just mumbled some sort of greeting, and Tara had turned to embrace Fiori when he found himself nearly nose to nose with the cool, elegant Anderson, hand in hand with Marie, whose clothing did little to ease the growing weight of his cock.
Before he could say anything, Marie came into his arms, a little less gently than was comfortable on his aching body, but balm for the soul to the rest of him. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe,’ she breathed against his ear. ‘I was so worried.’ Then, as though it didn’t matter at all who saw, she lifted her lips to his and kissed him hard, reacquainting her tongue with his. The feel of her, the smell of her overrode caution. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he pulled her tighter and returned her kiss. When he pulled away, nearly passing out from the pain of it, it was Anderson who steadied him.
‘I am told you fought courageously, Tim Meriwether, though I am not surprised.’ He offered Tim his hand.
Tim shook it. ‘Thank you for taking care of Marie.’
Anderson offered a smile that seemed to turn slightly inward. ‘Taking care of our Marie is no hardship, as you know.’
Tim felt a different kind of heat between his hip bones, not unpleasant at all, and rather intriguing that the two of them might share Marie amicably and that she would be OK with that. He held the ghosts gaze and offered a slight nod. ‘No. No hardship at all.’
Tara led everyone into the lounge, which now showed no evidence of the destruction Tim had brought on Tara Stone’s home. It pained him terribly now to think what he had done. But when the woman sat him on the sofa with Marie seated next to him and Anderson on the other side of her, he got the impression that perhaps Tara had a wicked sense of humour.
When tea had been poured and all politeness dealt with, Tara placed her cup down on the carved wood coffee table and sat silently for a moment. Her head was bowed, her hands were folded in her lap, as though she were collecting her thoughts.
At last she spoke. ‘Marie, Tim, I’m sorry that you’ve been dragged into our nightmare. Believe me there’s nothing in my power I wouldn’t have done to prevent it. But it’s happened. You are a part of it now, both of you, and like it or not, you’re fighting for your lives.’
The woman’s bluntness was a bit shocking at first, but Tim had to admit he liked it. He liked that she didn’t try to soft pedal the truth.
She glanced first at Anderson then at Fiori. ‘I know you two well enough to know that most of what I would now say you’ve already regaled our new friends with.’ She waved aside their slightly embarrassed looks.
‘It’s just as well. That means we can get on with what really matters, and that is, first of all to train the two of you so there’ll be no more unnecessary surprises, so that you’re connected to the coven and can use your own magic effectively as well as the collective magic we share. We’re stronger together that we are alone. And if we’re to hold any chance of defeating Deacon and getting our lives back then we’ll need all the strength we can get.’
‘Then we do plan to fight him?’ Tim asked quietly, suddenly finding himself the centre of attention.
Tara’s grey eyes bore into him with heat much deeper than what the ghosts made him feel. ‘Yes, Tim. We plan to fight him, and we plan to defeat him and take back what’s ours. It won’t be easy for the two of you.’
Tim found himself gripping the arm of the sofa as though he were afraid he’d be ejected. ‘It hasn’t been easy in a while.’
Marie laced her fingers through his and gave them a reassuring squeeze. ‘How soon can we get started, then? We know what we’re up against, now I’d like to know what our weapons are and how we use them.’
‘You don’t know what you’re up against, Marie.’ Tara’s voice was calm. ‘If you think you’ve seen the monster at his worst, then it’ll be your undoing.’
Anderson bristled, and gripped Marie’s other hand. But before he could say anything, Tara continued, ‘Deacon will test and probe and push, but never use more energy than he needs until he has you complacent. And each time your guard’s down, he’ll be studying you, observing you, getting to know you even better than you know yourself. And he’ll keep it up until at last he discovers the perfect way to hurt you the most, to do the most damage to you, to all of those you love, and,’ her voice softened, ‘to me.’
Marie’s face was suddenly porcelain pale. Tim was instantly on alert, remembering the way she had hyperventilated that first morning in her kitchen, the morning she had discovered she could see ghosts. Had it been such a short time ago?
But when Marie spoke, her voice was firm. She held Tara’s gaze. ‘Then perhaps that’s our strongest weapon, knowing what he really wants.’
Tara nodded slowly. ‘And making damn sure he doesn’t get it this time.’
‘This training we’ll receive,’ Tim said. ‘What does it involve and how soon can we get started?’
‘Now would be good,’ Tara replied. ‘Tim you’ll need to stay at Elemental Cottage tonight. Fiori tells me she’s made arrangements for your farm to be seen to.’
‘I understand,’ Tim replied.
‘Good.’ She turned to Sky. ‘Is the Room of Reflection ready?’
Sky nodded
‘There’s little time to waste, since we don’t know how long it’ll take Deacon to regain his strength, or if he even needs to regain his strength. It may be that he’s just toying with us. But the more magic we generate, the stronger we make ourselves, so it’s to our advantage to bring the two of you into the coven as soon as possible, teach you the basic Love Spell and train you as best we can to do magical battle with a demon.’ Tara forced a smile. ‘And all that before breakfast in the morning.’
‘Shall we, then?’ Sky stood and motioned for them to follow.
Chapter 15
Sky led them down the hall past an antique mirror that Tim had nearly shoved Anderson through when he’d barged his way in the other night. But now, as the sun glowed low on the horizon, the mirror seemed strangely dark and cloudy. It was only then that he realised Sky was alone with the two of them; the others had somehow vanished.
Sky led them past a study, with tall bookshelves rising out of the deepening shadows, to where a large wooden staircase curved upward into darkness. The flame of a large candle quivered ensconced at the foot of the stairs in a free-standing pedestal. She took a tapir from a basket on the floor, lit it, and motioned them to follow her up the stairs.
‘Do you feel that?’ Marie whispered in Tim’s ear as the two began their ascent hand in hand. ‘It’s like champagne bubbles bursting all over.’
Tim would have said it was more like insects crawling on his skin, but investment bankers and farmers thought differently, no doubt. ‘I thought it might be just the herbs Fiori gave me,’ Tim whispered back.
‘It is the herbs, among other things,’ Sky replied. Tim didn’t think he’d spoken loud enough to be heard. Sky continued, ‘Marie was given the same. What you’re feeling is
the thinning of the veil between worlds, a phenomenon that occurs when high magic is done, but one that can be enhanced by certain herbs, even alcohol and drugs carefully used. And certainly by sex. The herbs you’ve been given will aid you on this first journey through the veil so that you’ll be able to relax and concentrate more fully on the experience.’
The stairs felt as though they wound upward forever, another symptom of the herbs, Tim figured. At last Sky led them into a large round chamber. Inside candles sparkled like fairy lights around the room. Tim blinked and rubbed his eyes as he realised that in reality there was only a single candle at the centre on a hulk of a wooden table. It reflected off a circle of full length, ornately carved mirrors at the perimeter of the room. With a resounding click that made both him and Marie jump, Sky closed the door behind them, and it was as though they had been set adrift on an empty sea, just them in the round room full of mirrors.
‘This is our sacred space,’ Sky said.
Tim was surprised to find the other three Elementals were already there.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he could see that Tara alone stood in the middle of the room. With a smaller candle, she lit what appeared to be a silver bowl filled with dried grasses and herbs, which sparked and glowed red while she gently blew on it. The glow softened to an ember, and a thin swirl of smoke wavered, then rose like a coiling serpent from the dish. The scent of fire gave way to the sweet smells of a Cumbrian meadow in high summer, a scent that seemed to writhe upward and outward and curl its way around Tim until he could almost feel it inside him.
From two earthenware bowls, which looked to be full of salt, Tara and Anderson each took an amulet suspended on a silver chain.
‘These are the tools of a rider.’ Tara said. As she approached Tim with hers, he could see as it caught the light of the candle that it was a small silver mirror. Anderson settled a similar one around Marie’s neck.