Raging Spirits

by Angel Smits

  David’s dark hair fell away from his face, pooling around his head in a bright ebony stream. His eyes were closed and his chest bare. She drew closer, realizing the floor dipped downward. A row of candles separated them. When she reached the edge of them, she found they were level with her waist and imbedded in a natural altar of stone.

  “David?” she cried, her voice ricocheted off the stone walls. Her breath tilted the flames in the nearest row.

  He didn’t move. In the wavering light she saw bruises on his face and a trickle of dried blood at the edge of his hairline. Was he even—she swallowed—alive? Her heart pounded in her ears and she tasted her own panic.

  Bending, she blew at the first row of candles. The heat reached out for her, not even fading with her breath. If nothing else, they grew stronger as they ate away at the wick and wax.

  She had to put out the flames. She had to get to David. Had to see if . . .

  She turned around looking for something, anything, to help her. No bucket of water. No fire extinguisher. Nothing. Were they even real, or a vision? She couldn’t take the chance of guessing wrong.

  Please, God, she prayed. Let him be alive. She couldn’t see any movement of his chest. She needed to get closer.

  “David,” she cried, her voice bouncing off the thick stone walls. He didn’t answer.

  Kneeling, she struggled to pull a tall taper from its base. Sweat made her hands slick against the wax. Finally it gave. She swept it in an arc through the other candles, sending them tumbling to the stone floor. Flames fed off each other, devouring the candles. Finding no other fuel, the flames soon wilted and vanished.

  Expecting Rachel to stop her, Clarissa hurried to David. She leaned close. Reaching out, she touched his face and was shocked to find it ice cold.

  He couldn’t be dead. He could not leave her when she’d just found him.

  A drop fell onto his shoulder, and she realized it was a tear. Her tear. She swiped at the offending dampness. Damn it, she wasn’t going to fall apart now. She reached out to him again, this time placing her hand over his heart.

  A single slow beat startled her. And then it was gone. No!

  She leaned closer, placing her ear where her hand had been. His heart thumped slowly. Very slowly.

  Near death, but not quite there yet.

  “David,” she whispered, moving up to where she could speak in his ear. “It’s me.”

  Still no answer, but his heart thumped twice again beneath her palm. “Wake up, David,” she whispered. His heartbeat quickened, and she fought the smile that threatened. It was too early to hope, even though the color seeped back into his face.

  “Clarissa.” He gasped, his breath loud and painful, like a man long deprived of air. His eyelids fluttered open.

  Thank God, she thought and leaned closer, her smile real this time.

  He licked his dry lips and tried to speak again. “Get out,” were the words he finally said.

  “No. Not without you.”

  “Get out,” he repeated. This time she ignored him. She had to rouse him completely, to get him moving. She was sure Rachel wasn’t far away. She had left them here for a reason, and though David was barely alive, he was alive.

  Anger lifted its ugly head and Clarissa let it add strength to her already exhausted limbs and lagging spirit.

  She’d find a way out of here—with David—or die trying. She shivered at the macabre thought.

  “Sit up,” she instructed him gently. He didn’t move. “David?” she said more loudly, her voice echoing off the solid walls. A trickle of rocks behind her startled her, reminding her they weren’t necessarily so strong.

  She leaned back on her heels. Damn Rachel. Frustrated, she shook him, but he still didn’t respond. Even his anger at her following him was preferable to this—except if he were angry he’d have changed into something else by now.

  Her mind stopped. What if—no. It wasn’t possible.

  But why not?

  She rose up on her knees, staring down into David’s handsome face. The one she had visions of years ago. Only he’d been a child and she hadn’t recognized him. A child so filled with fear. The one she’d first seen in a vision—one where he died. A man so filled with pain.

  She refused to let him die. She would force him into action, and in the process, they would beat Rachel.

  Clarissa smiled, knowing her own smile was as wicked as Rachel’s had ever been. She leaned over David.

  His lips were still cool, but they had warmed as his heart returned to its normal beat. She kissed him. Giving him all the emotion and longing and desire she’d denied for days.

  And all of her love.

  He turned his head away from her kiss, from her touch, from the inevitable.

  “Save us, David,” she whispered, knowing—hoping—the change was close. Would it be the same as before? She prayed so.

  He cried out. His head fell back, and a grimace of pain distorted his face.

  She moved back a step, amazed at the process she’d never really seen. Her heart tore as she shared his pain. And then, it was quickly over.

  The bright candlelight washed over him.

  A white stallion, as strong and beautiful as any beast she’d ever seen, stood before her.

  “No!” Rachel cried out, her voice everywhere around them, shaking the walls. Another loud roar pounded against their ears as dirt fell all around them.

  He threw back his head and a loud, screaming whinny echoed in the cavern. His eyes were clear. His muscles rippled, and he pawed the ground as if anxious to run free.

  Clarissa climbed up onto the altar and stood waiting. He looked over his shoulder and nodded, the long mane rippling with his movement.

  She climbed onto his back. “Save us,” she repeated.

  The horse’s powerful legs shoved off the stone, sailing them over the sea of candles to land with a resounding thud on the stone floor. The clatter of hooves bounced off the stone walls, creating a nearly deafening echo.

  A chill breeze extinguished some of the candles in their wake. Clarissa turned, seeing the encroaching blackness as if it were reaching out for them.

  “Wait.” She leaned low against the animal’s neck and spoke into his ear.

  He stopped, shaking his head from side to side and pawing the ground with his right front hoof.

  “The spell book. Where’s the book?” She climbed down and ran through the cleared path. The book lay open between two large pillar candles. There was no sign of the music box. Was that where Rachel was? Protecting it, hiding it somewhere? She didn’t look at what page the book was on, just grabbed it and ran back to him.

  Ahead, the tunnel branched in two directions. Which one had she come through? She’d lost track. She remained silent, waiting as patiently as she could for David to decide which way to go. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. With a whinny, he decided. She again climbed onto his back.

  Before she could say anything more, he turned to the right.

  “Are you sure?” she called, listening to her voice vanish down the tunnel.

  He didn’t answer, and she wasn’t sure she’d know if he did. Instead, he picked up his pace, and she dug her fingers into his mane and her knees into his sides. She struggled to hold on to him and the book as they raced along the rough terrain.

  A loud roar came from the walls around them and the stone trembled. The faint light that followed them flickered wildly.

  “Go!” she screamed on the tail of the roar, and he broke into a full-out gallop.

  Dirt fell down around them and muted the light with rising clouds of dust. She held on even tighter, and he carried her through the labyrinth of tunnels, toward what she hoped was safety. He slowed only when her grip loosened or he stumbled.

  The fresh scent o
f afternoon came toward them in a rush of coolness, and they fought for each gulp of air. They were headed in the right direction.

  When they finally reached the doorway to the wine cellar, he stopped. With a shake of his head he indicated the door. He couldn’t open it.

  She climbed down and pulled against the heavy wood. The hinges groaned as loudly as before. She felt a shove from behind as he nudged her. “Come on.” She waved for him to follow. He didn’t move.

  “Are you okay?” She looked into his eyes. They were wild and filled with an emotion she could only identify as fear. He raised his head, sniffing the air.

  “David?” She smelled it, too. Smoke. “Hurry, we’re too close to give up now.”

  Traversing the stairs was slow, but finally they were up them. As they reached the top, a roar came from the other side of the door, in the kitchen. The force of it slammed the door open, sending wood and broken glass with it.

  They both stumbled, but David’s bulk stopped them from falling back down the stairs. Heat billowed toward them.

  “Let’s go,” she yelled as he nudged her ahead of him. She felt the heat and smelled the smoke ahead. Behind them dust billowed up in a choking cloying cloud. She went a few steps before realizing he wasn’t behind her.

  “David!” Panic clung to her voice. The white stallion burst through the opening. She’d give him hell later for scaring her. He stopped and she climbed on.

  They’d be out of here in an instant.

  The clatter of his hooves rang out. Clarissa clung to his broad back, leaning low over his neck. His mane flew in the breeze and she shoved the hair out of her face.

  Breeze? What breeze? She looked up. A roar announced the fire that erupted from the back wall. The back door she’d looked out earlier was now a wall of flame. The only other doorway, the one leading to the foyer was still open but flames leapt up from the floor.

  Was this real? A dream? A vision? She had no way of knowing.

  “Go for it,” she told him. “We have nothing to lose.”

  The horse leapt over the flames, landing with a crashing thud in the center of the foyer.

  Heat surrounded them, flames ringing the once beautiful room.

  “Stop!” she screamed. He did, pawing the ground and shaking his head, fighting his instinct to run as she dismounted.

  She moved around the room, coughing as the smoke filtered into her lungs. Still she kept searching.

  The music box had to be near. “It’s here.” The trail of flames circled the room, then led up the curved staircase.

  At the top of the stairs, inside the wisps of smoke, Rachel’s ghostly image stood. A smile of evil satisfaction lit her face. A crimson tear slid down her cheek. Then another fell. Each drop lit a small flame at her feet as it hit the floor.

  “No! Stop!” Angry, Clarissa hurried up the stairs. Could the music box be hidden here someplace?

  The walls of the house shook, and Clarissa felt as if the entire world was falling in around them. She saw the horse kneel. His eyes were filled with pain and anguish. In an instant David returned to his natural form.

  “We have to get out of here,” David cried, running after her to grab her hand and pull her back down the stairs. Tugging Clarissa with him, he headed for the front door.

  “The music box,” Clarissa shouted. “We have to get it.”

  “What?”

  “It has to be here.” She jerked free from his grasp and yelled over the flames. “We have to break the spell.”

  He stared at her in confusion and dread. “How do you know it’s here?”

  “She’s here.” She pointed to the wisps of smoke. Rachel was gone, but Clarissa knew she wasn’t far. “Where is it?” she yelled.

  “I don’t know,” David answered.

  Clarissa hurried up the stairs, searching for any memory that would be a clue. Then a single stair creaked. The same stair she’d stepped on that first visit here. She remembered being surprised by it.

  That’s it. She knelt down, setting the spell book on the floor beside her. “Help me.”

  David ran up the few steps between them. They pulled on the stair top, hoping it would give. It didn’t.

  “Are you sure it’s here?” he asked.

  “No. But where else could it be?”

  David stood, looking around, dreading the deadly firetrap that lurked so close. Smoke billowed around them and he coughed. This was ridiculous. He wouldn’t risk her life to save his. He wanted to grab her and throw her over his shoulder and take her to safety. He also knew that wouldn’t work.

  Then he saw something that shocked him. Rachel was down in the foyer, not on the stairs as Clarissa had seen her.

  He knew it was a trap. Rachel was trying to keep them here until they couldn’t escape. Until they died from the flames.

  He grabbed Clarissa and did exactly as he wanted. The caveman carry was incredibly satisfying, though he’d probably pay for it later.

  “The book,” she screamed. He reached around and snagged it.

  As he set her on her feet and prepared for her outrage, flames broke through the very spot where they’d been standing. Instead of berating him, she yanked the book out of his hands.

  “Rachel?” he called, hoping for what? That she’d tell him where the music box was? That wasn’t going to happen. But if she was protecting it . . . did that mean she was near it? It was as good a guess as anything they’d come up with so far. Then he saw a wisp again. In front of the doors to his father’s study. He dragged Clarissa to the doors and turned the handle. Locked. Clarissa shoved unsuccessfully against it.

  “Let me.” David stepped back. Then with a run and a leap, he kicked his foot against the door. It slammed open and he dashed into the room, looking frantically for the wisp of smoke.

  “Over here.” Clarissa ran directly to his father’s gun case. “She knew you’d never go near this,” Clarissa explained. The door was locked, but the front was glass and David didn’t hesitate to slam a paperweight through it. The action released long-held emotions. How could he not relish smashing the cabinet that had held the tools of his parents’ destruction?

  Once the latch opened, the small drawers underneath were operable. Inside the second drawer was the golden music box David remembered his father giving it to his mother. He cringed at the memories it brought back, and all too suddenly he was transported back to that day.

  Mine.

  “No,” Clarissa screamed and grabbed the music box. She closed her hand around his arm, tugging him out of the room, back to the foyer. “Close the door,” she yelled over the fire’s roar.

  With the door closed, he realized they were trapped. She grabbed a bouquet of artificial flowers from the table and dipped the petals in the flame. When she trailed it in front of the library doors, he grabbed her wrist, but it was too late. They were completely surrounded.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as she pulled away to kneel in the center of the room.

  “Kneel here.” She pointed to the spot in front of her. “Now,” she yelled as he hesitated. “We don’t have time.”

  He did as she commanded. They were trapped anyway.

  “Here.” She pulled open the music box. Inside was a small plastic bag. She opened the bag and poured several things into her hand. She offered her hand for him to see. A lock of his hair. A piece of fabric that looked vaguely familiar—his baby blanket. One of his toy soldiers.

  She struggled to flip the pages of the book.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s a circle of light.” She indicated the flames all around them. “Take these.”

  She put the items in his palm and held her hand against his. The words were familiar, if out of order. “As these items we join forever to stay. Combining them is our goal today. S
eparating the two is no simple feat. The cycle of life rules both man and beast.”

  As she finished speaking, flames shot up from the floor, stealing the music box and melting it. She’d moved back quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough. She cried out when the heat licked the back of her hand.

  David shoved the items she’d given him into his pocket. A loud wail rose into the air. Horrendous screeching assaulted their ears and grated painfully across every nerve and emotion.

  David felt something slam into him, and he nearly stumbled under its impact. He looked up. One arm of the massive chandelier had melted and fallen to the floor. Breaking the circle of flames. Before the opening closed again, he used every drop of his remaining energy and pulled Clarissa to her feet. They ran. They had to get out now. He dragged her toward the door and this time there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  The rest of the chandelier crashed to the floor only inches behind them.

  He’d get her out of here, and he was never coming back. With a shove, he sent Clarissa out the front door ahead of him and into the cool night.

  Nineteen

  AS DAVID AND Clarissa stumbled out the front doors of the house, sirens wailed in the distance. Falling to the grass, Clarissa felt herself hit the damp ground and pull David down with her.

  A large red pumper truck came through the wrought iron gates of the drive. Several smaller vehicles followed, each wailing their own answering cry.

  Firefighters clad in protective gear climbed from the truck, and Clarissa stared in fascination as they fought the flames that shot high into the night sky. All around them the heavens were blanketed in smoke that reflected the dancing light of the flames.

  Clarissa lay on her back on the grass, panting hard. She doubted she’d ever get enough of the cool night air into her lungs.

  “You okay?” David’s voice was raspy from the smoke he’d inhaled in their flight from the house.

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Hey, you two.” Paramedics knelt beside them, and Clarissa didn’t resist the oxygen mask they slapped across her face. She’d never thought of tasting air before, but she did now, and she savored its sweetness.