by L. J. Smith
“I just need your help to properly perform the exorcism,” Cassie said. “I can’t do it without you.”
“You’re serious.” Scarlett finally allowed herself to laugh out loud. “You’re even weaker than I thought.”
Cassie rested her hands on the rough green wool of her cot’s blanket. Its coarse fibers pinched the surface of her palms like tiny slivers of glass.
“No wonder Adam was bored by you,” Scarlett said.
Cassie made no reaction. She wouldn’t give Scarlett that satisfaction.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Scarlett said finally.
Cassie eyed her warily. For once it appeared that Scarlett didn’t have an angle. It must be in her best interest to be rid of the ancestors.
“I said I’ll do it.” Scarlett raised her voice. “I’m agreeing to what you want; the least you can do is say thank you.”
“I’ll want to do it right away,” Cassie said. “The text of the spell called for performing it at the point of origin. So we should meet at the caves.”
Scarlett shook her head. “The point of origin would mean the place the spirits rose from. That would be the old cemetery, where many of their bodies were buried. And where our father is.”
Cassie remained quiet for a few seconds. This was another reason she needed Scarlett’s help. She was simply good at this kind of thing.
For a moment Cassie wondered if having the wrong location was the reason the spell didn’t work before, but it was already too late to go back on the deal.
“I’ll gather the Circle tonight,” Scarlett said. “At midnight, near our father’s crypt. We’ll need to harness as much of our family energy as possible if this is going to work. The crypt is the best place.”
“How will you get them to the cemetery?” Cassie asked.
“I’ll tell them I got one of you to cross over, that we’re performing a binding spell to complete the Circle.” Scarlett stood up and signaled for Cassie to do the same.
She led Cassie to the door by the arm. “Are you sure you’ve really figured out the text to the exorcism spell?” she asked. “It’s a tough spell to get right.”
What was it that Cassie was hearing in Scarlett’s tone? Mockery? Condescension?
No matter. There wasn’t time to worry about Scarlett’s mind games. Once her friends were saved, she’d deal with Scarlett.
“I’ve got it covered,” Cassie said.
She continued forward and out the sliding door. The bright afternoon sun struck her eyes as a surprise, and the gust of fresh air was welcome.
“I’ll see you at midnight,” she said to Scarlett, trying to sound unafraid. But she didn’t slow her pace away from the warehouse’s shadow until she was halfway down the sun-kissed block.
Chapter 13
It was ten minutes till midnight. Cassie, Nick, and Max were walking to the old cemetery, along Crowhaven Road. Nick carried a giant duffel bag over his shoulder filled with the belongings of their friends. Cassie carried the rest of the supplies they’d need to re-perform the exorcism.
Max pushed open the wrought-iron gate that led to the cemetery grounds, but then hesitated, looking like he couldn’t bear to step through. He glanced at Cassie and then down at his shoes. “We just buried him here,” he said, meaning his father.
Nick put his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Why not let us handle this on our own?”
“Because I want to be there to see these ancestors go down,” Max said. “They tried to burn me to death with the rest of the school, remember?”
“I know,” Nick said, backing off slightly. “Then why not watch from here? It’ll be safer, for Cassie and me, in case anything goes wrong. You won’t be able to help anybody from the middle of it all.”
Max considered this and after a moment agreed. “Good luck,” he said.
Cassie and Nick continued through the gate, but they only walked a few feet when Nick also came to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked. “Did we forget something?”
“No, we’ve remembered everything.” Nick slid the tip of his boot back and forth in an arc across the crunchy gravel path. “It’s going to work this time, I can feel it. This’ll all be over soon,” he said, without qualifying what exactly he meant by this.
Cassie knew what Nick was getting at: that she would soon be reunited with Adam.
She exhaled deeply, unsure what to say.
Nick reached out and took Cassie by the arms. “Not everything has to automatically go back to the way it was before,” he said. “You have choices.”
Cassie could see the love in his eyes. But what could she do? Adam was her soul mate. “One thing at a time,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on.”
Walking across the soft, uneven grass brought an instant flood of awful memories. So many of Cassie’s loved ones had died recently—her grandmother, Melanie’s great-aunt Constance, Suzan. Their faces, both alive and dead, all came back to her now.
She and Nick marched straight down the middle row, which bisected the cemetery grounds, lined on both sides with stone arches. Some of the monuments were cracked like broken teeth. Others were white and solid as bleached bones. Cassie tried to avoid looking at the ones that were crudely etched with skulls and ominous images. The grim reaper had been carved into more than one.
When I die, Cassie thought, I want a much more pleasant figure on my headstone. When I die. Not if, but when. This was what coming to the cemetery always reminded her—that life was precious but finite, that one day she would be dead.
Nick wrapped his free arm around Cassie’s shoulders, and she leaned into his hold.
Scarlett and the Circle were waiting just where Scarlett had said they’d be. Under the moon they appeared like ghosts swaying in the wind around Black John’s crypt. Cassie could barely look at the colossal stone chamber of his burial vault. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled as she and Nick came upon it. She hugged her father’s book to her chest—a moment later she would be handing it over to Scarlett.
Gaslight lanterns provided extra light, which flickered across Scarlett’s face, not unlike the way it had in the warehouse. Cassie saw that a circle had already been drawn into the ground and her friends were standing within it, waiting for her.
Diana, Adam, and Faye came to attention at the sight of the book, but otherwise they remained still. It appeared that Scarlett had cast a spell freezing them in place.
Cassie joined Scarlett in the center. Nick emptied the duffel bag of their friends’ belongings onto the ground and arranged them into a neat pile beside Cassie and Scarlett. He worked quickly, lighting the necessary incense and candles with his Zippo. When all was set, he took his place on the circle with the others.
He gave Cassie a reassuring nod and, finally, a smile.
Scarlett closed the circle on the ground with her silver-handled knife.
Cassie lifted her father’s book with quivering hands and held it out to Scarlett.
Dropping her knife on the ground, Scarlett accepted the book. “Let’s do this,” she said.
Cassie exhaled a breath of relief. Scarlett must have been satisfied enough to have the book to herself to keep up her end of the bargain.
Cassie and Scarlett linked hands to meld their energy. Cassie scanned the faces of each of her friends. It appeared they truly believed they were about to perform a binding spell for a full Circle. Their enthusiasm was palpable.
Together, Cassie and Scarlett began the exorcism spell exactly as Cassie had done on her own at the caves. They recited the chants and performed the purifying rituals with the salt, and then with the water. But this time there was a quivering excitement within Cassie’s chest, a tingling in her legs. The energy Cassie felt coursing through her body was double what it was last time she performed the spell.
Cassie got the sense that she was rising, swirling, higher and higher. It was a dark feeling, there was no doubt about that; it was thick with power, equal parts pain and bliss. Her bre
ath came quickly.
She forced her eyes open to watch the effect on her friends. They appeared just as overcome by the incredible force of the spell as she was. She could see the darkness pouring out of their eyes like tears, and their mouths, like blood. It ran down their chins, their necks and chests, down the insides of their legs, until it seeped into the moist dirt.
Cassie and Scarlett raised their arms up in a V and called out the final incantation in their strongest voices: “Discedere, malum spiritus. Exi, seductor. Relinquere haec innocens corpora. Abire!”
Cassie could see the black shadows within her friends rise up and out of their bodies like smoke, coiling, wheeling. The spirits were breaking free, she was sure of it. Cassie felt their energy rush over her head and past her sides, cold and dark and quick, in an icy, deathlike whoosh.
Cassie heard herself scream. She’d flown backward, and found herself on the ground.
She lay flat there, still for a moment, gazing at the starless midnight sky. Her head was spinning. Her bones ached. Shakily, she sat up and refocused her vision.
As her sight sharpened, she recognized what had come into view. She was seeing Adam’s eyes looking back at her. They were the truest, most beautiful blue she had ever seen—the color of the ocean at its most radiant. The rest of his face was the same as ever: arresting and kind, with pride showing in his high cheekbones and determined mouth.
“Cassie,” he said, like an apology.
He wrapped himself around her, and his heart beat evenly and steady against her chest. She’d never felt so thankful for anything in all her life.
From the moment their eyes met, neither of them could turn away. The world had gone still, and only the two of them remained. It wasn’t possible to squeeze his body close enough.
He kissed her on her trembling mouth, and she was swept away.
When she returned to her surroundings, a little dazed, she noticed that the whole group had climbed to their feet.
The gentle composure of Diana’s features had returned. Melanie’s cool strength reentered the sharp angles of her face. And Laurel’s pixielike air had settled back into her smile. Faye ran her hands down her neck and torso, feeling herself returned. Cassie looked at each of her friends, finding that every one of them had come back to being the person she loved.
They were saved.
Cassie glanced at the cemetery gate and caught sight of Max walking away. He’d seen enough, Cassie assumed. All he could manage for now.
Adam wrapped himself around Cassie again. She breathed him in, not even realizing how much she’d missed the little things about him, like the smell of his skin and the feel of his hand flat upon her back. Now that he had returned, she felt the full force of the loss of him. It was like a dream to be in his arms again, too good to be true.
Then she glanced at Nick.
He tried to force a smile at her before looking away.
Cassie felt a pang of guilt. In her heart she knew getting Adam back had come at the expense of what she’d had with Nick, but this moment was too powerful to be spoiled, too perfect.
As Nick continued staring straight down at the ground, Cassie wanted to go to him, to scream out, We did it! But she couldn’t.
Adam was holding her so tightly now. He rested his chin on top of Cassie’s head the way he always used to do. He spoke in a quiet, sorrowful voice.
“I was in there the whole time,” he said. “I was screaming at this spirit to stop. That he was hurting you, Cassie . . .”
“I know,” Cassie said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He held Cassie tighter. “I wanted to come through for you, but I just couldn’t. The demon was too strong.”
Diana and the others then entered into the fold of Cassie and Adam’s hug. But Nick stayed to the outside. It was a bittersweet moment. She wanted him near her, too.
Scarlett, Cassie realized, was also keeping to herself, not rejoicing in the least.
Cassie called to her. “Get in here! We couldn’t have done this without you!”
But Scarlett made no motion toward the group. She stared at them oddly and then glanced upward.
The sky above the cemetery had filled with storm clouds. Ravens flocked from the nearby trees, and the resident stray cats fled. Cassie felt her relief tiptoe away, replaced by a tightening, choking fear.
There was movement in the shadows around them, a stirring of shrubs. Cassie realized they were not alone. Footsteps and dim shapes approached them, and she could hear the sound of breath—of breathing. Then Cassie noticed a wicked grin sneak onto Scarlett’s face.
Chapter 14
Figures emerged from the shadows around the Circle, creeping out from behind the cover of trees and tombstones. Cassie could see they were bodies. People. And they were wearing ancient garb that was half-rotted away. Cassie watched them and shuddered, understanding immediately that these were the demons that had possessed her friends for the past week, returned to their corporeal form. Her ancestors had been truly resurrected now.
Cassie stayed close to her Circle. Instinctively, they packed in tightly to one another as a unit. They all knew. Adam reached for Cassie’s hand.
Cassie turned to Scarlett, who smiled with the satisfaction of someone who has had the pleasure of watching her plan unfold perfectly.
“Scarlett was one step ahead of us the whole time,” Nick whispered. “Again.”
“What can we do?” Deborah let out a heavy breath. “We don’t even know if they’re dead or alive.”
“They look pretty alive to me,” Laurel said.
As the figures of Cassie’s long-dead ancestors grew nearer, she thought back to all that Timothy had told her about these relatives. She recognized Black John’s sister, Alice, immediately. The rope burn from her hanging in the witch trials had chafed and bruised a chokerlike ring across her throat. Other than that, she looked just like she did in the drawing, but slighter and with even gloomier eyes. Her pain was more palpable in three-dimensional form than it was on paper. She may have been the saddest girl Cassie had ever seen.
“I say we run,” Sean said. “Get out of here while we have the chance.”
Diana was eyeing Alice with a fearful curiosity. “No,” she said. “We have to stand our ground.”
Cassie lost track of Scarlett in the approaching crowd, but she recognized another ancestor—the man Timothy had said lived his life as a priest corrupting the Church. Absolom. He was the one who had copied the forbidden text of the exorcism rite into the Book of Shadows, and Cassie knew he was the ancestor who had possessed Adam.
Absolom appeared younger than he was in the drawing Timothy had showed her, but she was sure it was him. He wore the black garb and white collar of a priest, and he stood with the posture of a man used to an audience.
Adam couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was enraptured by Absolom’s saintly yet demonic presence, his wickedness cloaked in righteousness.
“Don’t show them any fear,” Nick said. But all of Cassie’s friends were trembling.
One of the female ancestors had drawn in close to Faye, sizing her up. Cassie could identify who she was most easily because she had been so badly burned. Beatrix. The flesh on her face and arms was browned and stiff, all mottled and blistered. Her hands were gruesomely charred, each finger reminding Cassie of burnt meat on a skewer. But even so, Cassie could see that Beatrix was beautiful. The shape of her nose and lips demanded attention despite their disfigurement, and she carried herself with confidence and grace, like a dancer. Her eyes and hair were so dark Cassie imagined they’d blackened to that gloomy hue in the fire that had consumed her.
Cassie surveyed the remaining ancestors, whom she didn’t recognize. They ranged in age and appearance, but none were very old. Aside from the fact that life spans were shorter in the past, Cassie understood that most of her relatives had also been hunted and killed for being witches. Not one of them had passed forty years old, by the looks of th
em.
One of the male ancestors wiggled his dirty fingers and swung his mud-encrusted arms forward and back. He was dressed in the clothes of a peasant, or possibly a farmworker. Cassie recognized him from the album Timothy had given her. His name was Samuel, and he was from the Providence Plantation—one of the original thirteen colonies—which, after the American Revolution, became Rhode Island.
The woman standing nearest him was wearing a Civil War–era day dress with red and white stripes that would have been charming if it weren’t half-decomposed. In the Blak family album she was described as a Southern belle: Charlotte Blak of Louisville, Kentucky.
Another man, whom Cassie recognized as Thomas Blak from England in the seventeenth century, wore a torn gray riding habit with matching breeches. He took off his hat and examined it.
But it was Alice who most captivated Cassie. She could hardly take her eyes off Alice’s pouty-lipped scowl. And she noticed that Alice had the same effect on Diana. Timothy had warned Cassie not to be fooled by Alice’s looks. He’d told her that Alice was so obsessed with dark magic that some said she was more evil than Black John himself. But now that Alice had appeared in the flesh, with her heartbreaking gaze and her longing, with her girlish hair nestled into a braided bun, Cassie felt like she understood her—who she really was.
“It’s good to be back,” Alice said. Her voice was startlingly deep. It was a voice vacant of all emotion, concave, as if Alice herself believed her words to be utterly worthless even as she said them.
“Better than good,” Absolom announced, with a cadence that thundered over the group. He spoke with an accent Cassie couldn’t decipher. “Triumphant.”
Beatrix nodded. Her face cracked into a distasteful grin. “This town is ours for the taking,” she said. She raised her burned hands and aimed them at Cassie and her friends, poised to cast a spell.
“Not yet,” Alice said, stepping between Beatrix and the Circle. She rested her terrible eyes on Cassie. “First we get stronger.”