Of Ash and Spirit_Piper Lancaster Series

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Of Ash and Spirit_Piper Lancaster Series Page 16

by Denise Grover Swank

I froze in horror.

  “As it slowly ripped me open, it said it was looking for the demon hunter. It said that I wasn’t the one, but it would consume my manitou anyway.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “Manitou?” It sounded like Manteo, but the way he’d said it made me think it was a different word.

  “It’s the Algonquin name for a creature’s life force.”

  “It planned to kill you?”

  “More than that, Piper. It planned to damn my soul to hell.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I gasped. “It can do that?”

  “Yes.”

  I thought about Gill, and grief and horror flooded my head. I’d damned him to hell. Whatever had happened between us, I didn’t want that for him.

  The door flew open and I jumped, turning my back to the wall, ready to face whatever had come to get me. Jack had leapt to his feet too—jumping in front of me as if to take the brunt of the attack—but it was only Becca.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, steadying the serving tray in her hands. “I guess I pushed on the door a little too hard.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m just jumpy.”

  She tsked when she saw the appetizers still on the plate. “I’m gonna take that as a good sign that you two are hitting it off, but I’m sure as hell not taking that plate back to the kitchen. Max would have my head.”

  “That’s fine, Becca,” Jack said. “Just leave it here and we’ll take care of it.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I thought you’d be back sooner.”

  “Funny thing . . .” She gave her head a soft shake, sending her dark tousled ponytail over her shoulder. “We had to cook your dinners twice. The first time, the chicken caught on fire, which never happens. Max just about had a stroke.”

  She set the dinner plates in front of us, then checked the wine bottle and my still-full glass. “Do you not like the wine, Piper?”

  “I do,” I said. “But I’m driving, so I’m pacing myself.”

  “We can get you an Uber or a taxi,” she said. “Or Jack can take you home.”

  “Becca,” Jack said with a groan. “We’re good. Now don’t come back.”

  “What about dessert?” she asked.

  Jack pointed toward the door. “Goodbye, Becca.”

  She gave him a fake pout as she walked out of the room.

  “Thanks for everything, Becca,” I said.

  She started to close the door, then poked her head back in and said, “Don’t screw this up, Jack. I really like her.”

  “Goodbye, Becca,” he said with more force as he stood and walked to the door.

  “But Max made a—”

  Jack shut the door in her face and locked it.

  “Now I’ll never know what Max made for dessert,” I teased, trying to shake the horror of what Jack had just told me. It would be easy to get lost in the hopelessness of it.

  “I’ll get you some later if you’d like,” he said with a smile. “A perk of being their brother.” He sat back down and picked up his fork.

  “What happened after the demon clawed you?” I asked.

  “I managed to reach my phone and call 911. An ambulance took me to the hospital, and I was rushed into surgery. There was a lot of disagreement about what had caused the wound. The authorities ultimately decided it was a bear, although the experts agreed the wounds weren’t consistent with a bear attack.”

  I remembered the community freaking out over a bear attack about a month before. While Asheville had plenty of black bears, most were harmless if left alone, as weird as that sounded.

  “You didn’t tell the police or the doctors what really made the marks?”

  “They would have never believed me, so I told them I was attacked from behind and I didn’t see anything. But my bishop demanded the truth.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  “Yes, reluctantly.” Jack shifted in his seat. “He wasn’t surprised since he knew about my fascination with demons.” He gave me a wry look. “That’s how I knew about the story of Saint Anthony.”

  “You said you didn’t know of a weapon to fight demons. If there was one, you’d know about it, right?”

  “There are tales of swords and daggers, but it’s hard to sort through what’s real and what’s not. I know of no actual existing weapon capable of killing a demon.”

  “But the holy water worked.”

  “Temporarily. I think it burned the demon, maybe weakened it some, but it still survived.”

  “So you really don’t know a way to fight demons?”

  “No, Piper. I’m sorry.”

  I realized I’d been relying on him for a solution. Now I was basically back to square one in the demon-fighting game.

  “I can see I disappointed you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  I could hear it in his voice that it killed him. Jack Owen was a doer—as evidenced by him taking on a demon singlehandedly. He couldn’t stand that he didn’t have the answers I needed. That we needed.

  I reached over and covered his hand with my own again. “You’ve still helped me, Jack. More than you know. Rhys and Hudson have my back, but it feels different to talk to someone who really understands.”

  His gaze held mine and I could feel things shifting between us . . . except I wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. Then I heard the voice in my head—the one that told me to leave law school—say, Not this man.

  I tried to hide my surprise and my fear. Was I hearing the same voice Jack had heard? Somehow I doubted God would be this interested in my potential love life . . .

  My gaze was drawn to the windows like a magnet. Once again, I could have sworn I saw Abel.

  Why was I obsessed with Abel?

  I pulled my hand from Jack’s and picked up my wine glass. “This looks delicious.”

  He watched me for a second, then poured more wine into his own glass. “Maybe you can tell me about your client meeting this afternoon?” he reminded me.

  While we ate the delicious meal of roasted chicken in a thyme cream sauce paired with rice pilaf and steamed asparagus, I told him about everything that had unfolded at the McNamaras’ home, including my guilt for duping all my previous clients. When I finished, I showed him my palm. It had been easy to hide since I’m right-handed. “Then this appeared this afternoon.”

  He set down his fork and took my hand in his. “Do you know what it means?” Rather than answer, he brushed my palm with the pad of his thumb, sending a wave of warmth through my chest. I fought to keep my breath even.

  The voice was louder and more insistent this time. Not this man.

  Why not this man? I barely knew Jack Owen, but it was easy to see he was the kind of man I’d been looking for—kind and good. Loyal and protective. A great sense of humor. Sexy as hell and obviously interested in me. Why had I found the perfect man—Episcopalian priest aside—only to be told he wasn’t for me? Was this some kind of punishment? Karma?

  “I’ve seen this before,” he said. Then, as though realizing the intimacy of what he was doing, he gently released my hand.

  “Where?” I asked, but I sounded a little breathless.

  “Symbols are important to many religions. Circles are usually used to represent perfection or the universe, and in Christianity, they represent eternity. Squares aren’t as common in Christianity or in Christian art, but in Buddhism, the number four represents the earth—four seasons, four directions. In Hinduism, the square is seen as the absolute form. But a circle in a square is important to both Buddhism and Hinduism. In Buddhism, it symbolizes the relationship between humans and God, and in Hinduism, it can mean the entire universe. It’s also used in some Native American belief systems to represent the intersection of the worldly and spiritual planes.” His eyes softened. “That’s the answer you’d find in academia anyway. The real question is why it’s now appearing on your hand and how you feel about it.”

  “Honestly, I’m scared.” Tears stung my eyes, which pissed me off.
I didn’t want to come across as a damsel in distress, but at the same time, I was smart enough to know I needed help. “I think it has something to do with a pendant someone gave me. It has the same marks on the back.”

  “Where’s the pendant now?” he asked, sounding alarmed.

  I pulled it out from underneath the neckline of my dress.

  “Can you take it off?” he asked.

  I supposed it wouldn’t hurt, at least not in the short term, so I unfastened the clasp and handed it to him. Once again, I felt a rush of air brush over me, but Jack didn’t seem to notice.

  He carefully took it from me and spent nearly a minute examining it. “Where did you get this?”

  “There’s something else I haven’t told you. My alibi for Gill’s murder.”

  “Don’t feel like you need to prove anything to me, Piper. I know you’re innocent.”

  “No, the alibi was a lie, which makes the man who showed up out of nowhere to provide it extremely important.”

  Worry filled his eyes.

  I told him about my arrest and the “Tinder date” who’d given me an alibi.

  “So I waited until he came out of the office and asked him why he lied for me.” I rested my hand on the table. “Jack, he wouldn’t even tell me his name. The detectives called him Mr. Abel, but that’s all I know about him. He knew plenty about me . . . He knew that my family is an old Asheville family and that my grandmother’s reputation could be harmed by the entire incident. And obviously he knew I’d been hauled to the police station to be questioned about Gill’s murder. I hadn’t even called any of my friends yet.”

  His hand gripped the edge of the table. “You think he’s stalking you?”

  “I don’t know. He was surprised that I hadn’t seen ghosts because he knew about my clients. He said he thought I’d be stronger and that he’d come for me when I was.”

  Jack looked alarmed. “Piper, you need to tell the police.”

  “I can’t. Abel is my alibi. They’ll know he lied and that I lied by not correcting him. I’m stuck.”

  A dark look filled his eyes. “I don’t like this.”

  “Neither do I.” I paused. “There’s more.”

  His face lost color as I told him about Abel’s warning, and how both the demon and the ghosts who’d come to me with warnings had left behind piles of ash.

  “He said I’d need protection,” I finished. “That was when he gave me a pouch with the pendant. Oh, and he asked if I’d found the daggers yet.”

  “What daggers?” Jack asked, growing agitated.

  “I have no idea. When I asked him about it, he told me that he thought I’d been given the codicil.”

  “The one you mentioned earlier? Your father’s?”

  “Yes, but the only people who should know it exists—well, until now—are me, my father’s two partners, my grandparents, and Rhys and Hudson. I mean, until six months ago, I had no idea what it even said. Nana and I presumed it had something to do with Dad’s share in the law firm. It did, but not how we thought.”

  “You mentioned that earlier. What did it say?”

  “You’re going to think this is crazy.”

  He gave me a look of disbelief. “After everything I’ve told you?”

  I took a breath. “The codicil insisted that I look into my father’s family tree and trace it back to a specific historical figure in the late fifteen hundreds. My share of the law firm is contingent on my success.”

  “Who’s the historical figure?”

  “Ananias Dare, the father of the first English child born on North American soil.”

  “The Ananias Dare of the Lost Colony?”

  I stabbed a piece of asparagus. “That’s the one.”

  “And when did you open the codicil?”

  “Nearly six months ago. I turn twenty-five in less than two weeks.” Now that I knew it wasn’t random, the timing of everything gave me chills.

  “You know Ananias Dare disappeared without a trace . . .”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “You don’t say.”

  “Okay, that was a stupid statement.” He was quiet for a second. “So how far back have you gotten?”

  “To my grandparents.”

  “Of course your grandparents. How many generations back?”

  “One. My grandparents.”

  “Piper!”

  I set my fork down in frustration. “Jack, what difference would it make? I knew I couldn’t prove I was the direct descendant of a man who disappeared. Hell, up until two months ago, historians had been trying to track down the colonists for years. How was I supposed to figure it out in six months?”

  “But the colony reappeared. Maybe the information you need can be found at the site. They probably have tons of historians flocking to it.”

  “Look, I thought the colony was a hoax.” I held up my hand at his questioning look. “I know. The timing was too perfect for it to be coincidental, but I was in a major state of denial.”

  “The reappearance aside, your father’s request seems so wrong.”

  “It is. Nana wanted to posthumously declare my father mentally unbalanced and make the codicil null and void, but his two partners—who witnessed him sign the papers—have refused to entertain the idea.”

  “Because they’ll inherit his share of the business?”

  “Bingo. But there’s more.”

  He looked surprised. “More?”

  “Tracing our lineage to Ananias wasn’t the only task he set for me. I’m also supposed to find some secret curse.” I shook my head. “I dismissed it when we opened it, and honestly, I was pissed at him. So I refused to do anything. But now . . . with the reappearance of the Lost Colony . . . and my parents’ murders . . .”

  His eyes flew wide. “They were murdered?”

  “In a restaurant parking lot.” And just like that, I found myself telling the story again. The restaurant parking lot, the gunman who’d tried to find me and settled for killing my parents, the man’s strange mention of Manteo . . . and how he later told the police he’d targeted us for a group called the Guardians.

  Jack looked shaken. “The Guardians?”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’ve heard of them?”

  He took a drink of his wine. “They contacted me a few weeks ago. A woman named Miriam Peabody called and said she’d heard I was an expert on demons. She invited me to view a collection of fourteenth-century weapons and give my opinion on their authenticity.”

  “Did you?”

  “No, I was still in the hospital, but even if I hadn’t been, I doubt I would have gone. I didn’t feel that I have the expertise to help her, although she insisted I did. She said she’d contact me again at a later date, but I haven’t heard back from her.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Jack. What if they have a weapon that could kill demons?”

  He sat back in his chair. “I got a very bad feeling from that woman, Piper. That’s why I didn’t mention it to you earlier. Plus, I wasn’t sure if I could trust you. I do now, but we need to stay away from those people. Especially if they were responsible for your parents’ deaths.”

  “If it’s even the same group.”

  He tilted his head. “You know it is. And if you need any more proof, I looked up their website after I turned her down. Looks like they’re some end-of-the-world cult.”

  “I need some way to defend myself, Jack,” I said, starting to get pissed. “You yourself said that you don’t know of a way to kill demons.”

  “And you think the Guardians are going to help you?”

  I sat back in my seat. “I don’t know.”

  He reached over and grabbed my hand. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’re desperate, but please stay away from those people.”

  I stood in frustration and moved to the windows. He was right. Of course he was right, but I felt vulnerable and terrified. There was a demon on Beaucatcher Mountain that wanted to kill me, and while he might be stuck there for now, I suspected
he’d soon grow strong enough to come find me. “What am I supposed to do, Jack? Wait for it to kill me?”

  “No,” he said behind me. “I swear I’ll do everything in my power to help you figure this out.”

  “Why?” I asked. “You hardly know me.”

  “If our positions were reversed, and that demon was after me, would you want to help me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “Then why are you standing there asking me that question?”

  He was right about that too, but it didn’t alleviate my frustration. I turned back to the windows, and this time, movement on the street caught my attention. A shadowy figure that had been standing against the side of a nearby building stepped into the open. The man looked directly at me.

  It really was Abel.

  “I’ve got to go.” I ran to my chair and picked up my purse.

  “Piper, I know you’re upset with me, but—”

  “Thank you for dinner, Jack. I really want to continue this conversation, but I have to go. I’ll explain later.” I bolted for the door and down the stairs.

  The restaurant was even more crowded, and I had to push my way through a group of people at the door.

  “Piper?” Becca called after me. “Is everything okay?”

  I cast a quick glance back at her. “Sorry! Thank you for everything!”

  Once I was out the door, I jaywalked to cross the street, nearly getting hit by a car in the process, but Abel wasn’t on the corner anymore. Where had he gone?

  This morning, a dark sedan had picked him up from the police department, so I scanned the street for it. My breath caught in my throat. There it was—stopped at a stoplight a half block down, four cars from the intersection.

  “Piper!” Jack shouted behind me, but I ignored him as I took off sprinting after the car.

  I had to reach it before the light changed to green. I just had to. I knew it was a long shot, but it was one well worth taking.

  I was winded by the time I reached the car. I bent over to catch my breath and peered inside.

  Abel was staring right back at me.

  I grabbed his door handle, but it was locked. Pounding the heel of my hand on the window, I shouted, “Open this door! Let me in!”

 

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