by Kali Willows
“My guess would be the same way they managed to get to her last night and cause the severe headache,” Cyrus remarked. “And put Kane in a trance of some sort.”
“The talisman worked a little tonight, but not enough,” Cemil muttered. “You couldn’t read anyone’s thoughts, you’re not in pain and didn’t get overwhelmed with other’s baggage. But they attacked you on a subconscious level.” He pursed his lips. “I’d guarantee they’re the ones messing with your memory, too. Since you could remember this symbol, maybe they don’t have the same control they did before.”
White-hot anger flooded her chest at the serpent eye framed by three lightning bolts. “I can see it as clear as day. They each had black lace bracelets with chains to rings on their index fingers with this symbol.” She tapped her finger on the paper. “The serpent’s eye was red.” She forced a swallow past the lump in her throat. “Then their black eyes changed to the same as the ring.”
“What?” Arawn moved to the edge of the desk and studied her drawing, his handsome features now marred with distress.
“Do you know who they are?” Rekkus interjected.
“I have an idea.” He scrubbed his face. “When my father wanted to dole out punishment for any sins brought to his attention, he would appoint the Three Furies to exact justice on the intended targets.”
“The Furies?” Kane’s grip on her shoulder tightened. The intensity of his touch matched the panic coursing through her veins.
“Yes. And that symbol, the red eye?” Arawn pointed to the sketch.
“What about it?” Trinity stared at the offensive image.
“It’s the Evil Eye. Used as a tool to dish out some of the punishment.”
“How?” Sage inched forward to sit on the edge of her chair. “My knowledge is of the light arts. Darker elements I tend to learn on a need-to-know basis.”
Arawn gritted his teeth. “The Furies are the goddesses of vengeance and retribution.”
“I’ve heard of them, but don’t know anything about them. I thought they were around centuries ago.” Trinity’s throat grew thick as the threat became clearer, every muscle in her body wracked with tension.
“They are the daughters of Nyx, the Ancient Dark Goddess. Usually, they’re horrible winged women, draped in black, with serpent hair and eyes dripping blood. It would seem their agenda isn’t all they’ve managed to cloak. They changed their appearances, too.”
“Tears of blood?” The familiar words settled in Trinity’s stomach like cement.
“Not tears, princess. Vengeance.” The tenor of defeat tinged Arawn’s words. “The Furies epitomize conscience and punish crimes. The Dread Ones have the ability to drive their victims insane, hence the Latin name Furor. They have the power to erase your memory and leave the trauma to afflict you.”
“By the Gods….” She could barely force a whisper past the lump in her throat. A plethora of emotions flooded her weary brain. Beyond the white-hot shock that settled into her bones, a tidal wave of terror had managed to take the lead, and a swell of rage had slipped into a close second.
“These sisters who checked in; does anyone know their names?” Sage glanced around the room.
“They registered as Megan, Tish, and Alex Erines,” Rekkus spoke up.
“That confirms it, then.” Arawn exhaled a heavy sigh. “They’re also known as Erinyes in Greek Mythology. Their names are Megaera, Tisiphone, and Alecto.”
“I did attendance at the dining hall. Those three were there at the beginning of dinner.” Rekkus growled. “I sent security to the rooms and they weren’t there. We haven’t been able to locate them since.”
As she absorbed the avalanche of information, rage spiked up Trinity’s spine. “You said they exact punishment and vengeance?”
“Yeah.” Arawn agreed. Still at the edge of the desk, he shifted his weight and folded his arms across his chest, now in a defensive stance. He was just as worried as she was, by the looks of him, maybe even more.
“They’re basically hired guns?” she persisted. Who would send these creatures after me? What in Tartarus could I have done to warrant this attack? Pins and needles prickled her fingertips. She glanced down to her clenched fists. Her knuckles had whitened.
“They are.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong. Why me?” she demanded. I’ve lost my entire family, and these sadistic creatures are driving me mad? For what purpose?
“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out.” Arawn maneuvered behind Trinity and caressed her shoulders. “Sometimes, they’re vigilant about crimes that were committed within a family, murders of parents are considered as the most heinous of crimes. I’ve heard tales of when they would haunt a son who had failed to avenge a parent who had been killed unjustly. The Furies are ruthless. They would hound their victim until the person makes reckoning on the death of their parents…or….”
Trinity twisted around and glared at Arawn. “Or?”
“They would die somehow, either by their hand, or by that of an innocent they drove insane to do their bidding.” The depth of his gray eyes framed by his ebony lashes had now darkened to black as coal. His luscious lips were pressed tight. Stress and worry clouded the magnificence of his features.
“So you think I’m haunted by these Bitches of Eastwick because I haven’t avenged the murder of my parents?”
“No, but we can’t rule it out. Your parents were murdered, and now they’re after you.”
“I saw it. It was a murder-suicide,” Cyrus disputed in a slow, deliberate voice.
Trinity turned back to find the stern glare Cyrus flashed. She recognized the pain his gaze held. The images he referred to about their deaths troubled him as much now, as they had earlier.
“What you saw, and what may really have happened may not be one in the same.” Arawn lowered his voice and squeezed her shoulders. “They possess the power to alter perception and memory as we’ve witnessed here. We need to get more information to better understand this.”
“Fair enough. Now that we know who they are and that they were sent, we have to figure out why and by whom.” The distress that filled Cyrus’ face settled in her gut like a rock.
“I’m very familiar with the Evil Eye,” Sarka piped up from her chair in the corner beside Sage. “But never with a triangle of lightning bolts.”
“Yeah,” Arawn grumbled. “That’s a problem, too.”
“Why?” Sarka prompted him to continue.
“In the ancient world, a lightning bolt is a symbol for supernatural power used by the male gods.”
“What does it mean?” Trinity rested her head against Kane’s solid chest.
“It means there is a powerful alliance at work here. The triangular Evil Eye is an ancient symbol of power in the hierarchy of the Underworld.”
“Could it have anything to do with my uncle’s death?” Maybe it is my fault….
“I highly doubt it.” Arawn moved back to the desk and faced her, his frown sending shivers down her spine. “This symbol is associated with superior leadership. One mortal death wouldn’t warrant this kind of retribution on a para in my experience. This is something much deeper.”
“Is the sovereign of the banshee considered a high power?” she persisted. Surely there is some way to stop them. Find out who sent them and go straight to the source? Or perhaps I can run and hide? My uncle had me do it for decades, so why not now?
“Not in the Underworld, but I wouldn’t rule out a possible connection.” Arawn stroked her hair. His touch carried a bitter sweetness.
“There is no way to get information from the Underworld about this, is there?” Rekkus asked.
“We both burned that bridge a long time ago, I’m afraid.” Arawn replied in a soft tone. “I may be able to call in a favor or two. I’ll need some time to contact some old acquaintances.”
“We don’t appear to have much time.” Rekkus said. “Do what you can. In the meanwhile, you two co
ntinue to protect her twenty-four hours a day.”
“Understood,” Kane agreed.
“Tomorrow,” Cemil softened his serious voice, “you and I, Trinity, have some work to do in the Elysian Fields. Perhaps we can gain some insight on a different plane of existence.”
“Okay.” She settled into Kane’s embrace.
“For tonight, another session with Serena in the hot springs,” Cemil volunteered. “And a good night’s sleep. It’s critical you unwind as much as possible. You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow.”
“What about security?” Sarka inquired.
“Since they can affect her without anyone else seeing them, there isn’t much more we can do.” Rekkus growled.
“I think we may have a bit of a break for now.” Arawn offered.
Cyrus cocked his head. “How so?”
“A few things, first, the Evil Eye explains the plumbing, heating, and cooling issues on the second floor. It can also cause the nausea the para guests have complained of.”
“Even though they are clearly after Trinity,” Kane interceded, “we can gauge their hidden presence by these symptoms. It’s a natural side effect of the Evil Eye. If you can post ample para security around the cabin, keep everyone on radio check-in, we can possibly pick up on their proximity to her. We may not see them, but the nausea is a telltale sign they’re close.”
“In my experience with the Furies,” Arawn continued, “once they’ve made their presence known to the victim, it will be a little while before they try to strike the final blow. In part, because they let their victims stew, drive themselves crazy with worry. The Furies are plotting now, and the security and talisman the sisters made for Trinity have alerted them we know they’re here.”
“Will they physically attack her?” Kane asked the question burning in Trinity’s mind.
“No, of that I’m certain.” Arawn’s words brought little comfort. “They drive their victims mad, but don’t exact physical violence. They do possess the ability to provoke others to it, so we have to be careful who is around Trinity until this is resolved.”
“Is there some sort of magical assist we can provide the rest of us with so we aren’t affected by them?” Sarka asked.
“I wouldn’t do it for the extra security.” Arawn’s voice was deep and stern. “We need them untainted so they can physically sense their presence. However, if there is any way to whip up enchanted amulets for us all here who are aware of what’s going on, Nazar Boncugu will counter the Furies’ powers.”
Sarka scrunched her nose. “What is a Nazar Boncugu?”
“It’s the Evil Eye Bead. It can deflect the harm they project from their symbols.”
“It has to be constructed of blue glass of Antolia,” Arawn instructed. “You may want to fashion it framed with a Wiccan symbol of power.”
“A triquetra,” Sarka agreed. “I have design in mind.”
“We need one for each of us.” Arawn circled his hand in the air, indicating everyone in the room. “We will keep Trinity away from the rest of the Wiccan Haus guests and staff for now.”
Sage stood to join her sister. “Do we have blue glass of Antolia?”
“We do.” Sarka headed out the door with Sage in pursuit.
Chapter Ten
Back at the villa on the water, Trinity found herself more relaxed than she thought possible, given the circumstances. The dip in the springs with Serena soothed her aching muscles and eased some of her tension, although it was a temporary fix.
“I don’t see all the extra security.” She stood on the porch and scouted the edges of the water.
“They’re hidden out of view, but there are nine security guys posted all around us.” Kane caressed the small of her back. “We’ve got you covered, darlin’.”
“I know you do.” She trembled as icy chills encased her skin. “I still don’t understand. Why me?”
“Cemil hopes your trip to the Elysian Fields will reveal more information.” Arawn opened the door. “In the meantime, everyone is armed with the amulets Sarka and Sage put together.” He held up the silver triquetra with the blue glass and a detailed cobalt eye in the center.
“Wow, they are good, and fast.” Trinity admired the crafted glasswork.
Once the trio ventured inside the villa, Kane locked the door and set a square black device on the coffee table. The tiny red light beamed.
“What’s that for?” She pointed to the black device.
“It’s a walkie-talkie. The security team and the Rowans all have them set to the same frequency. As long as there’s even the slightest concern the Furies are around, we all need to stay in close communication.” Arawn tucked his arm around her shoulder. “It’s all good. You’ll get the rest you need tonight.”
“Now we’re held hostage in this cabin, you’ll both be bored out of your minds,” she lamented. “All because of me.”
“It’s not so tragic to hang out with you.” Kane brushed back a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Butterflies danced in her belly under his touch, but her throat remained thick with fright.
“I’ve got a few things in mind to pass the time.” Arawn winked with a playful grin.
“Oh really?” She backed away. “I’m not sure I want to know….” So much of her hoped they wanted to spend the night under the covers with her, but deep-seated fears crashed back to the surface. Don’t get close, everyone you care for dies a horrible death. Spare their lives and keep some distance, for the love of Hades, don’t be selfish.
“You don’t trust us, Trinity?” Arawn stepped closer, and she backed up farther until she bumped against the wall by the bedroom.
“Uh, of course I do…it’s just…”
Arawn braced his palm against the wall beside her shoulder and leaned toward her, his face dangerously close to hers. His heat intoxicated her as she sucked in a shuddering inhale. “I’ve got a little fun planned for us three.”
The sweet warmth of his breath brushed over her face. “What…do, uh…you have in mind?” she stammered.
He gripped the handle beside her and tugged the door next to her open. “I kind of enjoyed how you cut loose the other night.” He reached into the linen closet. “There has been far too much stress on your shoulders these past few days.”
“Agreed,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on his.
Was he reaching for silk sheets? Damn if she hadn’t wished away her ability to read his thoughts. Right now, she had no clue what he plotted.
“How about a little fun with us?” He pulled something out of the closet, slowly inched away from her, and set a long, thin box into her shaky hands.
She gazed up into the depths of his darkly seductive eyes and bit her bottom lip.
“I’ll make some space.” He headed back to the living room and got Kane to help him move the furniture against the walls.
Trinity swallowed hard. Her cheeks warmed, and her core thrummed with need. She glanced down at the box and blinked in surprise. “Twister?”
“Why not?” Kane high-fived his comrade. “Great idea.”
“You’re kidding, right?” A child’s game, while you’ve got me all hot and bothered? What’s next, coloring with crayons?
“What’s the problem?” Arawn returned to her and collected the box from her grasp. “I found this in the Game Shack.”
“What are we, ten years old?” There is absolutely nothing I associate as fun with this ludicrous idea. What is it? She lifted the lid and inspected the folded plastic material and the cardboard spinner. Real rocket science here.
“You’re worried it won’t be enough of a challenge for us grown-ups?” he taunted. “We can make it more interesting, if you like.”
“How?” Skeptical he would have a reasonable answer, she stood still and waited for the juicy details. Strip Twister with the two hot paras? I might not be able to resist.
“Don’t tell Rekkus, but I snuck in a little contra
band this week.” He handed the game to Kane. “Set it up. I’ll be right back.”
Arawn strolled toward her again and palmed her cheek and flashed a teasing smirk. He went back into the closet, dragged out a hefty duffle bag, and fished through it. “Here we go,” he announced and pulled out a large glass bottle and dropped the bag back on the floor.
“What have you got?” Kane spread the multi-colored plastic mat across the bamboo floor.
“My old friend, ouzo.”
“Ouzo?” Trinity studied the bottle. The label was written in Greek, therefore, indecipherable to her.
“It’s a drink that tastes like Anise and black licorice. It’s sweet, intense, and a little dangerous.” He cupped her chin and kissed her forehead. “Just like you, princess.”
Although she wouldn’t admit it to them, the prospect of upping the stakes intrigued Trinity. Even as a small kid, she never played games or had fun of any kind. Her childhood had been a blur of trauma and seclusion. Her uncle hid her away and shielded her as much as he could until she became an obstinate adult and insisted they move to New York and live a mundane existence. By then, in college and straight forward into a career, she perfected the existence of all work and no fun. Board games were not a para-norm, but she knew a little about Twister. She’d seen commercials about the precarious positions people could contort themselves into in a ploy to be the last player standing, or rather crouching.
“So, what’s the ouzo for?”
“Makes it more adult.” Arawn headed to the kitchen and searched through the cupboards. He returned with three glass tumblers in hand. “Consider it a little fun, a test of your agility and a chance to stop thinking so much.”
“Fine,” she mocked. “But you both have an advantage with me in a sundress.” She rushed to her suitcase and riffled through her clothes. “If I play, it’s gonna be to win.” She tugged out a white tank top and a pair of black yoga pants. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” Trinity slipped into the bathroom and suited up.
Arawn poured three shots of ouzo.
“Okay, let’s get this party started.” Trinity returned to the living room.