Journey of Souls (The Mortality Series)

by Melanie S. Pronia

  "Patrick," Devin's voice was cold, authoritive, "I warned you."

  With no preamble, no warning and with the speed of a launched spear, Devin flew at Patrick, throwing himself on top of him. The movement, the quick unexpected motion of it, tossed Patrick on his back instantly knocking the wind out of him. Justine didn't even have the time to consider how unreal it seemed. She heard the sound of Patrick's weight thudding against the ground which seemed deafening and so final. Forgetting her own safety, Justine knelt down next to him, too close to Devin.

  Devin dug his thin hand into her hair and smiled at her leeringly.

  "No Justine not yet, but soon, wait your turn my love." His voice was but an intimate whisper spoken for her benefit only. He jerked his head back quickly sensing the motion of the crowd as they started to move in, and surround him in a tight, small circle.

  Quick, thinly veiled fear snapped into Devin's eyes. With a strength that defied his size, he grabbed Patrick under each arm and shot straight up into the air with him. Justine jumped up, her mind rushing, acting only on instinct, trying to grab Patrick's ankles. Her fingers slid down the soles of his sneakers a second too late.

  Devin began to do a quick, jerky, animated waltz with Patrick in the air that was revolting in his apparent enjoyment of controlling Patrick like a puppet. His laughter grew in earnest as he

  enthusiastically performed for the shocked audience staring up at him.

  Patrick's hands slid around Devin's neck, his eyes shooting piercing hatred into Devin's. The look on Patrick's face was macabre in the way his smile was almost as sinister and pleased as Devin's had been. He quickly took control of the situation and flung Devin into the heavy oak tree known as Abraham's hanging post. Devin's eyes blinked shut, with surprise and pain that quickly began replacing the smugness on his face. With the will of Devin's flight gone, the two men rapidly fell to the ground at the foot of the tree.

  The spell that had seemed to hold the crowd captive, rendering them silent and motionless, finally snapped. Patrick who was just as physically stunned as Devin was from the impact, struggled to stay on top of Devin, holding him in place.

  Justine was the first one to break away from the crowd, Claudia close behind her on her tails. With a power that can only be described as a human eruption, the large group of people charged as one solid, angry mass.

  Justine being in the lead was the first of them to go down. Knocked back by an invisible, unnatural barrier. Her body, hands first bounced violently back as if she had run head on into a thick glass wall. Most of the crowd was heading too fast into the same barrier, unable to prevent themselves from repeating Justine's actions.

  Stunned and nauseous, from the sudden impact, Justine lay on the ground seeing nothing but the stars that filled the endless night sky, willing the breath to seep back into her lungs. The crowd around her groaned and rolled around in agony until some of them were slowly able to make it back to their feet.

  When Justine was finally able to sit up, she helplessly watched the grotesque scene playing out before her. The leering smile of indolent victory was back on Devin's face. As if being electrically shocked, Patrick tried to roll away, his body twitching and jerking, humming with the blue energy that seemed to hold him captive.

  Casually Devin followed Patrick kicking him viciously with his every other step. The look of tortured pain on Patrick's face broke Justine's heart. She banged on the wall, kicked at it futilely.

  "Devin! You sick bastard! I'm going to kill you!" His only response was an indulgent, yet brief smile in her direction.

  Patrick stopped rolling, his eyes tightly shut. Justine stared at his face, looked to his chest hoping to see it rise and fall with his breath. Blood slowly ran down the side of his face from his forehead. Devin stopped and stared down at him, as if considering what action to take next. When Justine was calm enough to keep her eyes steadily on Patrick's chest, she realized that he was indeed breathing. Apparently Devin realized it in the same instant that she did. He charged, his black cloak flying out behind him, spreading out on the wind like a demon’s wings.

  Patrick's eyes snapped open, he braced himself for the impact. Devin landed squarely on the knee that Patrick quickly brought up, hitting Devin directly in the groin. Devin tumbled over Patrick's body, spilling head long until he landed on his back cupping himself in stunned humility.

  Justine watched Patrick slowly get to his feet, wincing when she noticed how Patrick limped with one leg. He approached Devin, bracing one hand over his shoulder. Like a bug Devin lay on his back, his eyes filling with fear as if watching the approach of a large, hungry spider. Patrick stopped standing over top of him and stared down at him.

  The crowd stood outside the barrier bracing their hands against the invisible glass, looking on at the display, powerless to do anything but watch in fear.

  Patrick was gasping for breath, blinking his eyes rapidly as if trying to ward off the pain.

  "We shall first follow the laws of the land, the laws of man," his boomed voice loud and powerful despite the pain that was clearly written across his face. He paused, bending down to grab Devin by the collar of his cloak, "But when the laws don't work, we are justified on calling upon a higher power. An ye harm none, lest thee be in self defense, do what thou wilt. You want a Witch War Devin? Get the fuck up and fight me like a man!"

  Devin rolled onto his stomach and slowly stood to his feet while Patrick seemed to be waiting patiently. The intensity in their eyes could be felt in the air surrounding them and the group who watched on anxiously. Smiling and nodding at Devin, Patrick raised his hands to the sky, they trembled the veins in them visibly pulsing, a bolt of lighting in the cloudless sky struck down and traveled across his out stretched arms. He smiled again as he drew the vibrating energy into his arms and aimed it at Devin. Pausing for one last look he smiled,

  "Sweet dreams." Before Devin could even move, Patrick aimed his radiating, glowing arms directly at Devin's heart and watched with a defeated sorrow as Devin's body quickly crumbled to the ground and convulsed with the powerful lightning that radiated in and between his arms.

  A bright shape loomed in the sky, rushing head long towards Patrick. Justine sucked in a deep, fearful breath before she recognized it to be her father. He landed next to Patrick nodding at him, the sneakiest of a smile appearing on his face. Not a word was said between the two men, but it seemed as if a thousand thoughts had been shared. Ethan turned and looked briefly at his daughter sharing with her a loving smile before bending down and grabbing the still body of Devin. He picked him up in his arms and launched himself with rocket speed into the sky with Devin. They disappeared into the blackness of the night, as if the sky had simply swallowed them up, sucking them into an unseen portal to distant lands.

  Justine stumbled when the invisible wall crumbled instantly beneath her hands. She ran to Patrick who limped over to a chair and pulled her close with one arm. He gasped for breath with his chin lying on her shoulder, she simply clung to him unaware of how much her embrace was hurting his bruised ribs.

  When she placed her hands on his cheeks and searched his eyes, Patrick said,

  "It's okay baby, it's done. I'm okay."

  Before Justine could really look into his eyes and know that he was really okay, the crowd had surrounded them. Conroy was up front, woken from his tent by the commotion. Like the leader that he was, he looked over Patrick, practically shoving Justine aside. There was a thick silence of surprise, concern and fear that had captured the crowd. Once they were sure that Patrick was physically okay, they quickly dissembled and headed for their own tents.

  On Conroy's instructions, Patrick and Justine left the camp quickly, gathering only their own supplies. Justine insisted that they go to the emergency room but Patrick told her to take him home and insisted that all he needed was a shower and a good night’s sleep in their own comfortable bed.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Even though Patrick had refused medical attention, h
e insisted on being a cranky patient for Justine while he lay on the couch pouting. Lila looked at Justine meeting her eyes, both women erupted into laughter.

  "I know he's my son, but he's such a cry baby when he's not feeling well."

  "Well that's the Leo in him."

  Patrick stared at them surly and walked up the stairs to climb into bed.

  "Would you like some coffee, Lila?"

  "Oh yes, that would be lovely."

  After Justine had brewed the coffee and poured it into two matching crystal coffee mugs, she sat anxiously across from Lila.

  Over the top of her coffee cup, Lila said,

  "Go ahead and ask, I think it's time you knew everything."

  "How did you know what I was thinking?" Justine sounded astonished.

  Lila laughed and rolled her eyes,

  "Justine, get used to it, it's in our blood, in your blood." Lila smiled and waited, waited patiently for Justine to finally ask her what she knew she wanted to ask.

  "My father. . ."

  "Yes."

  "Yes to which?" "To everything you want to ask."

  "So he was a Witch?"

  "Oh yes! a very powerful one."

  "Did you love him?"

  Lila paused, her eyes taking on a far away look of ancient sorrow.

  "Yes, very much."

  "Did he love you?"

  Lila met Justine's eyes, staring, looking for any sign of anger, and finding only regret and sorrow.

  "Yes."

  "Then why did he marry my mother?"

  "Because of you, Justine."

  "But I thought he was with you?" She was even more confused now.

  "He was, but there was a Beltain night that involved a lot of alcohol, an argument between him and I, and the presence of your mother."

  Justine glanced down into her cup,

  "Why was mom there? She's not a Witch?" It was more a question than a statement.

  "No, she's not. But she was the guest of one of our conveners."

  Feeling suddenly sick for Lila's loss, for the pain she must have endured, for the pain Justine herself must have caused her.

  Lila breathed in deeply,

  "You know your father, a one night stand resulting in a baby turned into a life time with your mother. Justice had to be served, Justine. Your father would have done no less than what was expected of him, the honorable thing to do."

  "Lila, I am so sorry."

  Lila reached over and placed a hand softly on Justine's.

  "Don't be Justine, everything happens for a reason. Now I finally understand that reason." She raised her eyes to the ceiling indicating Patrick.

  Justine laughed,

  "I'm not so sure I believe in all that."

  When Lila didn't join Justine in her laughter, Justine stared at her.

  "You might not now, but some day you will."

  "How much more do you know?" The question was honest, sincere almost desperate.

  "Less than Patrick knows."

  "Will he tell me?"

  Lila smiled secretly,

  "Oh no, but I'm sure he'll show you."

  Justine stood up anxiously,

  "But Lila, that's not fair!"

  "Life rarely is Justine, for it works out the way it does for a reason."

  "Who was Patrick's father?"

  Finally, it was a question that stunned Lila. She quickly looked down at her hands and stood up nervously. A liquid chill ran over Justine as she began to consider the possibilities, the sordid idea of incest.

  "That is why Ethan and I fought the night of Beltain, uh Beltain is the Sabbat of the Fertility Rites." Lila said distractedly before continuing, "Your father went after Patrick's father when he slapped me. I swear Justine, I thought Ethan was going to kill him! Patrick was only a few months old and his father had come to take him away from me, to take him away from the Witchcraft that was warping his mind."

  "But who was he?"

  Lila rubbed at the back of her neck nervously, turning her eyes away from Justine.

  Finally she turned to Justine and stared silently at her for a moment before replying,

  "His name was Devin Pagolia."

  Justine, stepped back, stunned,

  "But Devin was about the same age as Patrick and I."

  Lila, sat back down sighing deeply,

  "The Devin you know, is Devin Pagolia, Jr."

  "But that would make him Patrick's brother?"

  "Yes." The look of dead seriousness in Lila's eyes absolutely convinced Justine.

  "His mother?"

  "Well that would have been Devin senior's wife. Devin senior was the son of a very popular local minister."

  "I don't understand, if you loved my father, than why did you sleep with Devin's father?"

  A look of torment pain passed over Lila's face,

  "I didn't 'sleep' with him, Justine. He raped me. His family had so much money and power that no one was willing to believe that a minister's son, a married one at that, would do such a sinful thing. An 'affair' or succumbing to temptation of a reputed Witch was one thing, but that a non Christian was raped by a Christian was another story all together. I'm actually lucky that I wasn't burned at the stake. The only reason that I guess I wasn't, other then legalities was to keep the whole incident quiet."

  Justine nodded silently, easily comprehending Lila's terrible story.

  "Why did Devin hate Patrick so much?" Justine said more to herself than to Lila.

  "Because, his baby brother got all the powers and he didn't get any, his father was a holy man."

  "But wait! Devin was powerful, very," Justine said rubbing away the sudden chills that ran up her body.

  "Sure he was, once he crossed over to the dark side." Lila sighed impatiently and stood up, "Justine there are many different types of magick and with that there are twice as many more reasons to motivate magick. How Devin found out about me and Patrick, I couldn't tell you, but there is always gossip, no matter how old it is, it's still talked about if it's juicy enough. People talk, it's not surprising that Devin did find out. He was too young to remember when his father was trying to take Patrick away from me. The only reason that didn't happen was because the Mrs.'s and I quote, 'wanted no whore's heathen child created solely out of sin in her home.'"

  The words alone stung Justine deeply so she knew that they must have stung Lila twice as deeply and yet those very words were the ones that saved her from losing Patrick. At a loss for words, she looked up at Lila and began to understand the look of sorrow she seemed to carry in her eyes when she didn't realize anyone was looking. It amazed Justine, and she couldn’t help but admire the spirit and warmth with which the woman shared so generously with others.

  The look in Justine's eyes was not lost on Lila either, she cleared her throat feeling as if she needed to explain further.

  "Justine, don't feel sorry for me. I may have been raped and hurt, but I also have a beautiful son because of it. After Ethan married your mother, I met Jeffrey who gave me three beautiful daughters and did his best by Patrick, although I'm sad to say the two of them were never really close. Patrick has always carried a lot of resentment towards his lack of a father, he didn't find out about him until the day Devin Sr. showed up at the ranch. Patrick was about fourteen at the time, and this stranger came on to our land, Jeffrey as is usual was out of town on business, Patrick was the acting 'man of the house.' Well here shows up this man Patrick has never seen and he presents himself to Patrick as his father. He had come to convert Patrick." She smiled sadly, "I'm sure you can imagine that didn't go over so well. Once Patrick had sent a very angry Devin away, he confronted me about him. I told him the entire story honestly, since then, I think Patrick carries an unjustified guilt for the pain I was caused due to his conception. I've explained to him so many times, that one night of terror is nothing compared to the love I have for him, and the pride he has given me as his mother."

  Lila and Justine glanced at a sound at the head of the stairs at
the same time to see Patrick standing there watching them, listening to them. The look on his face was a poignant mixture of anger and happiness. He slowly walked down the stairs and pulled his mother tightly into his arms.

  "I love you Mom," was all he could manage to get out.

  "I love you too, Patrick." She backed up and grabbed her purse, "But now I'm going to leave you with this woman who I believe loves you as much as I do." With that said she gave Justine a silent hug and quietly walked out the front door.

  Justine turned to look at Patrick; his eyes flew everywhere around the room, anywhere but at her, as if he couldn't endure looking directly at her face. She didn't know what to say to him. She sat on the couch, the newly gleaned information swarming through her brain rapidly. The burning question stormed through her mind, had Patrick known that Devin was his brother? Did she dare to ask him?

  Attempting to lighten the mood, Patrick said,

  "Miss Ramsey, I know you well enough to know that you're dying to say something, just spit it out."

  Justine smiled awkwardly,

  "It's actually a question."

  "Okay, then ask it."

  Justine hesitated willing her words to not sound as accusing as they seemed,

  "Did you know that Devin was your brother?"

  "Ah," Patrick smiled. "No, well not at first anyway, but I knew after I thought we had seen the last of him right before you filed the restraining order."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" The question was asked gently yet filled with speculation.

  "Then I would have had to tell you the rest of the story Justine, that's not exactly something that I like to brag about."

  Justine sat next to Patrick on the couch.

  "Patrick, you did nothing wrong, it wasn't your fault."

  "It hurt my mother, that man hurt her." The anger was barely concealed as he spoke.

  "But like she said, she was given you. That made it better for her, surely you understand that now."

  Patrick stood up and headed towards the kitchen. Justine didn't think he was going to reply as he was filling a glass with ice.

  "I do understand, I just wish, I wish, damn it, I don't know what I wish."