Legacy & Spellbound

by Nancy Holder

  Like a wraith, she appeared from one of the shadows. “Kill,” she whispered.

  He smiled. He was going to miss her on some level. It was too bad he had never truly gotten to enjoy the fruits of their bond. “Good-bye, Holly.”

  “Good-bye.”

  And after the dark-haired man shut the door, she added, “Michael.” And then she was alone again in the darkness.

  Jer and Eve: New Mexico

  “So, what is the game plan?” Jer asked as he finished washing up.

  “You know your father best, you tell me,” she answered.

  “Yeah, I know him.” He winced as he touched the scars on his face. “He has a witch in thrall, a special witch. I don’t want her hurt,” he said, quickly changing the subject.

  “Holly Cathers,” Eve said. “She’s more than ‘special,’ I would say.”

  “Yeah well, I want her alive,” he said.

  Eve smirked. “There’s a reward on her head, too.”

  “If you want my help, you’ll leave her alone,” he warned.

  “I don’t need your help. I could just as easily kill you.”

  “That isn’t true or you would have done so at the gas station.”

  He could see the wheels in her head turning as she looked at him. At last she nodded. “Help me get your father, I’ll leave you your precious witch.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Good. Now, do you have a plan?”

  Three hours later all their plans were worthless. As they pulled up to the cabin Jer could tell that his father was gone. Still, they got out and circled around the building. Everything was dark, silent.

  “I don’t feel anyone,” Eve said.

  He was about to agree with her, when a fireball clipped his shoulder. With a shout, he dropped to the ground as a hailstorm of them passed through the air where they had been standing. He rolled onto the shoulder that had been hit, extinguishing the fire.

  Eve had jumped behind the minivan and erected a barrier. Jer rose to his feet and, ducking, ran to get behind it.

  “Who is it?” Eve shouted.

  “I don’t know,” Jer admitted. The fireballs had come from inside the cabin, through an open window next to the door. They suddenly ceased. A minute later the door creaked open, and a slight figure stepped outside into the light.

  “Holly!” he shouted.

  Holly cocked her head to the side as though she was listening to him.

  “Holly, it’s me, Jer!” he called.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Eve hissed. “She’s in thrall to my father... and possessed,” Jer admitted.

  “You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”

  Someone was shouting at her, calling her name. Who was it? She strained to see, but the others were in the way, their big heads blocking her view. I want to see the picture too, she thought. If only I were a little taller, I could see around them. She wanted to try to sit up just a little higher, but then they would notice and they would yell at her, and hurt her.

  The voice was shouting again. “… Jer.”

  Jer, Jer, where do I know that name? It seemed familiar. Why couldn’t the devils sit lower, so she could see? Maybe if I could pull myself up just a little taller, an inch or so, they wouldn’t notice, would they?

  But they would, she knew it. They noticed everything, and they had told her not to move. They had said if she moved, they would hurt her and the Golems would come, whoever they were. The Golems were beasties who would kill her.

  The voice kept talking to her, and it was familiar. I should know it. Who’s there?

  They said to hold still because of the beasties. Beasties without, beasties within.

  “Holly!” the voice shouted.

  And she stood up off her little stool and yelled, “What?”

  Holly shouted something back, and almost instantly Golems appeared from thin air. Jer shouted a warning, but she didn’t move until the first one grabbed her. Jer ran out from behind the shield, with Eve on his heels.

  “How do we stop them?” she shouted.

  “Either destroy the paper in their mouths or rub out the first letter on their foreheads!”

  “Which is easier?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Jer answered as he tried to grab the nearest Golem’s head. The thing brushed him off as though he were no more than a fly. He landed in the dirt and tried kicking at the creature, but to no avail.

  He turned just in time to see Eve jump on the back of one and reach around and rub out the first e on the thing’s forehead. It fell headlong to the ground, and she leaped off at the last moment.

  Meanwhile, fireballs had begun to fly off Holly’s fingertips, and Jer found himself suddenly busy dodging those. One struck the Golem next to him full in the face and it, too, fell, the paper in its mouth turning instantly to ash.

  That left two, and looking at them, Jer wasn’t sure they would be so easy to kill. The one had Holly by the throat. Her eyes were bugging out of her head, and the fireballs were still shooting off uncontrollably from her fingertips. Suddenly her face changed, took on a demonic appearance. “Gande ipse rodal!” she roared, in a language he had never heard. He watched in amazement as an invisible hand slowly rubbed out the e on the creature’s forehead. The Golem and Holly tumbled together to the ground, both still.

  “Holly!” he cried, rushing forward. He knelt beside her and felt for a pulse. There was none. He laid his hands on her chest and willed electricity to flow from them into her. Her body convulsed as the charge hit. He checked for a pulse and could feel one, though it was faint. He turned just in time to see Eve rip the paper from the final Golem’s mouth. It picked her up and began to crush her, but she tore the paper in half and he dropped her before falling.

  She stood panting and tore the paper into a dozen tiny pieces, which she then tossed to the wind. She put her hands on her hips.

  “So, what’s with her?”

  “Unconscious.”

  “Sounds like a good thing.”

  “It probably is,” he said grimly.

  She walked over and crouched down to look at Holly. She didn’t look impressed. “So, she’s what everyone’s making a fuss about?”

  Jer nodded.

  “I don’t see it,” she said, and stood back up.

  “Well, I’m wasting my time here. I’ve got to find your father. Got any idea where he’s headed?”

  Jer looked down at Holly. His father had left her to kill him and be killed herself. Wherever he was going, he must have considered her a liability. Given all of her power, that was hard to believe. Where would he be going that he wouldn’t have to worry about watching her? he thought.

  It came to him in a rush. He was right, he knew it, he could feel it. “He’s headed to London.”

  Tri-Coven: San Francisco International Airport

  Amanda sat next to Tommy on the Mother Coven’s jet, holding his hand and wishing she were somewhere else. It was relatively crowded: Sasha, Alex, Amanda, Armand, Pablo, Philippe, Barbara, Tommy, and Richard were aboard. Any minute they would be taxiing for takeoff and it was back to Europe for the lot of them. The copilot, a woman and a witch, came back to address them.

  “We’ve received a message from the tower. It seems someone in Albuquerque is requesting that we land there and pick up three more passengers. The message was sent by someone named Jer.”

  Amanda’s mind raced. Three passengers! Jer must have found Holly and Kari! Before she could say anything, Alex spoke: “We don’t have time to take a detour.”

  There was a sudden chilled silence in the air as the new leader of the coven found himself the focus of all eyes. Tommy was the one to speak. “As I see it, if he has Holly with him, we can’t afford not to stop. She’s our greatest asset and, in the hands of the enemy, our greatest liability. We need her and we can’t afford to not know where she is.”

  Alex narrowed his eyes, and Amanda knew he was judging how best to respond to this challenge to his authority. He s
miled after only a moment, and the tension passed. “Well-spoken, Tommy. To Albuquerque it is.”

  The copilot nodded and returned to the cockpit. Several more minutes passed, and then the plane maneuvered itself into position. As soon as the wheels left the ground, Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. What can Michael Deveraux do to us in the air?

  “Quite a lot, probably, if all I’ve heard is true,” Alex said.

  Amanda stiffened. She had let her guard down for a moment, and he had gotten in. She didn’t mind Pablo reading her thoughts, but Alex was different. Maybe it was because he was older, or the leader of the coven or a relative. Maybe it’s because I don’t entirely trust him . Whatever it was, she needed to watch herself more closely.

  Still, she wasn’t going to allow him, or his allusions to Michael’s power, to ruin her flight. She sank down in the seat, put her head on Tommy’s shoulder, and promptly fell asleep.

  She woke when the wheels touched down in Albuquerque. A hard knot settled in her stomach. What if Jer didn’t send the message? she thought, sudden fear gnawing at her. Well, we’ll know soon enough.

  “Soon enough” took twenty minutes. At last the hatch opened, and she heard a collective intake of breath from the group. When she saw Jer, she sagged in relief. In his arms he was carrying a woman. Her face was turned inward into his shoulder, but she recognized her, anyway: Holly!

  Philippe rose quickly and helped Jer settle Holly into a seat. She was unconscious, but Amanda could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. A new feeling suddenly washed over her, a chill dancing up her spine. She turned, expecting to see Kari walking onto the plane. Instead, it was a stranger, a woman with short hair, clad all in black, and there was something about—

  “Warlock!” Pablo hissed, lunging toward her.

  Jer threw up an arm and caught him. “Pablo, no! She’s a friend.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” the woman said sarcastically.

  “Explain yourself, Deveraux,” Alex commanded.

  Jer glanced over. “Who put him in charge?”

  “Don’t ask,” Tommy muttered.

  “Eve’s tracking my father, to kill him. She and I had a common purpose. She helped me save Holly. In exchange, we’re giving her a lift to London.”

  Amanda stared thunderstruck. At last she found her voice. “Is it such a good idea to let a member of the Supreme Coven know where we’re going?”

  “Technically, Jeraud’s a member of the Supreme Coven,” Eve pointed out.

  “Not anymore. I have my own coven,” he snapped.

  “And where would it be?” Alex asked. His voice was light, mocking.

  Amanda watched the muscles in Jer’s jaw begin to jump. When he spoke, his voice was a dangerous hiss. “Someday, I will kill you.”

  “Not if I kill you first.”

  Amanda’s father stepped in between them. “Down, gentlemen, let’s not do this.” Power and authority surrounded him, encompassing him. “I promise you that if one of you starts this, I will finish it.”

  Silence descended, neither man wanting to be the first to back down. This is ridiculous, Amanda thought. Into the silence, she asked, “What happened to Holly?”

  * * *

  Jer turned to her, the fight leaving his body. “We were fighting Golems. One of them was choking her. Something took her over, and she killed the Golem and was knocked unconscious.”

  “Witches and warlocks, please take your seats and prepare for takeoff,” the pilot announced over the loudspeaker.

  Amanda wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry.

  Holly was asleep on her little stool in the corner of her mind. Everyone was asleep. It was peaceful, for a moment, but soon all would wake and everything would be chaos again. Chaos and fear. She didn’t remember much anymore, much other than fear. Fear. How well she knew it, how she had tasted it time and again, lived with it, eaten it, slept it, dreamed it. Just like that night so long ago, in her own room in her own home… .

  The Cathers Family: San Francisco, 2001

  Holly sat, munching popcorn and watching television with her parents. It was Tuesday night, and Tuesday night was movie night. It had been tradition for as long as she could remember. Even the trip to the video store was tradition, complete with the perennially chick flick—shoot ’em up controversy.

  Now, as they were watching The Sixth Sense, she was starting to think she should have given in to her dad’s pleas for a John Wayne movie instead. When the little boy told Bruce Willis that he could see dead people, she thought she was going to cry.

  “At least it’s not as violent as I thought it was going to be,” her mother commented.

  “This is worse than violence. This is just messing with your head,” her dad protested.

  Holly tended to agree with her father. I can’t imagine anything more frightening than seeing a ghost.

  When the movie was over, she ran down the hallway to the bathroom, throwing on light switches along the way. She shivered as she stared in the mirror. I can’t believe I let it get to me like that, she thought.

  She thought she saw a shadow move behind her, and she jumped. She brushed her teeth and got ready for bed while avoiding looking into the mirror again.

  After she had laid out her clothes for the next day, she felt a lot calmer. When her mom came by to say good night, she was in bed and her eyelids were drooping.

  “I love you, honey.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  “You okay?”

  Holly smiled. “Yeah, are you?”

  “Of course,” her mom said, laughing lightly.

  Holly’s smile widened. It was her mom’s nervous laugh. The movie had gotten to her, too. “Sleep tight, Mom, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

  “You either,” her mom said, shaking her head and laughing.

  My parents are great. I can’t imagine having grown up with different ones, she thought as she slid into sleep.

  “Wake up, Holly,” a female voice cajoled.

  Holly squirmed and flipped onto her back. She could tell through her closed eyelids that the room was light. “Don’t want to,” she said sleepily.

  “Wake up,” the voice grew more insistent.

  “No.”

  “You must wake up, Holly.”

  “Mom, let me sleep.”

  “I am not your mother,” the voice snapped.

  Holly’s eyes flew open, and she sat bolt upright.

  It was still nighttime. The light in the room was coming from a woman. She stood in the center of Holly’s room, in an old-fashioned dress. Her dark hair hung in waves down her back. Her eyes burned like coals, and she was glowing.

  “I’m dreaming,” Holly said out loud. “This is just a dream.”

  “It’s no dream,” the woman assured her. “I am Isabeau. I am your ancestress, and it is time for you to discover who you are.”

  “I know who I am. I’m Holly Cathers.”

  “No, you are Holly Cahors of the House Cahors, and you are a witch.”

  Holly began to shake uncontrollably. “I must be dreaming.”

  “And I tell you that you are not.”

  “Are you dead?”

  “Yes.”

  She thought she would faint. The room began to swim before her eyes. “This isn’t real, this isn’t happening.”

  “It is real,” the woman said, drifting closer. She sat down on the edge of the bed next to Holly. “You are of my House, my blood. You are a witch and you need to discover what that means now rather than later. The Deveraux are your enemy, you must remember this. They will kill everyone you love if you let them.”

  She reached her hand toward Holly, and Holly tried to scramble out of her reach. Her body seemed frozen, though, and she wanted to scream as dead, cold fingers touched her cheek. “Ma petite, so much to learn and so little time. I will help you.”

  Isabeau pressed her hand to Holly’s forehead. “I will be with you, sharing my strength, my power with you. Now,” he
r voice deepened into a commanding tone, “light the candle on the dresser with your mind.”

  Holly felt compelled to obey, as though she had no will of her own. She turned and stared at the candle in question and suddenly, with a whoosh, it was on fire.

  Holly began to scream. Within moments she heard footsteps pounding down the hall, and her parents burst into the room. Her mother screamed, and Isabeau turned to look at Holly’s parents. For a moment they all stayed, frozen as though in a tableau, and then Isabeau was gone and the only light in the room was from the candle.

  “Holly! What happened?” her mother cried as she rushed forward. Holly threw herself into her mother’s arms, and they both collapsed onto the bed, crying.

  “Mom,” she gasped between sobs, “I’m a witch and I see dead people!”

  “It was the movie, that’s all, it gave you nightmares, it was nothing,” her mom said, her hysterical tone belying her words.

  “But, Mom, you saw her, she was here.”

  Her mom was silent, and Holly pulled away to look at her. There was fear in her eyes. “What am I going to do, Mommy?”

  Just then her father stepped in close. He placed his hand on her forehead, much as the woman had done. When he spoke, his voice was deep, deeper than she had ever heard it. “Sleep and forget.”

  She slipped into blessed oblivion.

  When she woke in the morning, Holly had the nagging feeling that something was wrong. She had slept well, but she was tired, and something just felt off.

  Downstairs in the kitchen she found her parents at the breakfast table. Both were silent when she walked in, and both looked as though they had been crying.

  “What’s wrong?” Holly asked, feeling herself begin to panic.

  “Nothing, honey,” her father said with a forced smile that made it nowhere near his eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a log.”

  “No nightmares?” her mom asked.

  Holly turned, puzzled and worried. “I don’t think so, why?”

  “Nothing. I just thought I heard you tossing a lot last night.”

  “No, no nightmares, no dreams. I just slept really solid. Are you two okay?”

  “Fine,” her father said quickly, too quickly. “We’re fine, honey. We just didn’t sleep well.”