by Summa, S. E.
“Mirela is still alive? And you know her?”
“Well, alive is not exactly the term I’d use. She is undead, a reanimated.”
Finn sat straighter. “Mirela is a Possessed?”
“No, no she’s not possessed. She died, but now she lives, for lack of a better verb, with only a partial soul. Lynette is a girlfriend, of sorts, of my benefactor, Maximilian.”
Finn raised his hands. “Wait, Mirela is alive. But called Lynette. And she’s some kind of zombie girlfriend to your mentor?”
“Exactly. In the Curse Regression, I tried my best to stop her from weaving the hex. She didn’t seem to understand it would take her life when she cast it. I was thrown back by its power, but now I’ve seen the curse in its most basic form, I understand it better,”
Finn shook his head. “Okay, then did you learn anything new? Anything that can save Seraphina?”
“I think so. Mirela’s rage and fury grew the hex to an unnatural strength and then she fed it into an object. No, into two objects. The curse made her suffer a brutal, deadly tithe. It concentrated as it fed off her pain and hatred. I’ve never seen a hex grow so strong. It electrocuted me when I tried to stop her. After she died, I tried to grab the objects she bound to the hex, but the magic carried them back to their rightful owners.”
“Rightful owners? You mean to Seraphina and to me?” Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “What the hell did she hex? If we could somehow find them, maybe we could…”
“A necklace. A delicate moonstone cameo lined with blue sapphires and a girl who resembles Seraphina.” Marceau watched for Finn’s reaction. “And a silver keychain in the shape of a thunderbolt.”
Finn’s eyes bulged and he hissed. He shot to the edge of his seat. “I gave her that damned cameo. She’d had it this whole time. Until she…” He buried his face in his hands and shook his head.
“Donated it to a charity auction so she would get a VIP invitation to bid on the Blackthorn Grimoire?”
“Yes, and I was the one who encouraged her to do it. I thought the book was more important than an old gift. If we can find it, could we release her? Could it help bring her back?”
Marceau pulled the velvet pouch from his pocket. He tugged open the strings and turned the bag over in his palm. Finn’s hands tightened on the arms of the chair as he looked at the moonstone cameo lying in Marceau’s hand.
“How?”
“I overbid on it that night to make sure I won the auction. I saw her admiring and longing for it. I felt drawn to it too. It must have been the curse calling to me. Plus, I wanted to please her, even then. I’ve been carrying it around since we met, waiting for the right moment to give it to her.”
Finn stood and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his keys, which hung from a now tarnished and battered thunderbolt keychain. “This is meant to be, Marc. I know it. But what do we do now?”
“We don’t light rest of these candles, that’s for damn sure.” Marceau quickly blew them out. “We need the grimoire. Find a spell to communicate with a spirit.”
“Whose spirit?”
“I believe the part of Lynette, of Mirela’s soul, is separated from her body and may still be accessible within the veil. If we can contact her, I think I can convince her to release the curse.”
Finn asked, “How will that bring her back?”
“If I’m right, Mirela will help guide Seraphina back to her body. If I’m wrong, well, there is only one other option. I will finally accept a bargain Death has tried to force upon me all my life.”
Finn’s head cocked, and he took a long look at Marceau. “You know Death?”
“Unfortunately, and to add to the urgency of our situation, he’s arriving here in two days. Death is my benefactor, Maximilian.”
Marceau hung up his phone and joined Finn and Khat in the living room. It was past midnight and they looked as if someone had dragged them around by their feet… everyone was exhausted, but none had time for sleep.
“Lynette will be here tonight. She’s taking a great risk by coming. When Max realizes she has left his compound, there’s no telling what he will do.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose and thinking, Marceau thanked the stars he’d given Lynette his hexed key. It would get her to his apartment in the city. From there, she was on her own. It had taken some convincing, but she said she would come.
“Good,” Finn said. He sat on the floor, the grimoire on his folded long legs. “This spell is the only way. It can draw a spirit to you and hold them in place.”
Marceau leaned over and reread the incantation. He shook his head and said, “We’ve been over this. My power only works with curses. Khat can amplify powers and has limited djinn magic. And you specialize in sin. All this power and none of us has the right kind of magic for a spell of this magnitude.” Marceau sighed. “Plus, we don’t have enough time to make the incense it requires. We’ve been through the book twice now. Either we find another way or we have no choice but to bargain with Death himself.”
“You said that was a last resort. We have to find another option,” Khat said as she twisted strands of Finn’s white hair with one finger. She lay on the couch behind Finn, reading one of Seraphina’s notebooks filled with transcriptions of the grimoire.
“Ugh, this is so damn frustrating.” Finn slammed the book shut and dust plumed. “Seraphina can pull any damn spirit she wants from the realm beyond at will. If only we could tap into her power, this would be child’s play.”
Khat shot up from the couch so fast she pulled Finn’s hair.
“Ouch.”
“What is it?” Marceau asked her.
“Say that again, Finn.” Khat was biting her lip and staring off into space. “That last part.”
“If we only could tap into her power…” Finn trailed off realizing the possibility.
Khat looked up at Marceau. “I think I can do that. I can try. I’ve tapped into it once before when I boosted her.”
“When did you ever need to boost Seraphina’s power?” Finn snapped.
“Be overprotective later, Finn, focus on the bigger picture here, will you? When she helped Rolf cross over the veil, there was a little issue with someone trying to cross back into our realm.”
“You call that a little issue? Khatereh, why would you keep something that big from me?” Finn was fuming.
“Later. I promised Sera I wouldn’t tell you, but she’s dead. So now I can tell you, but be pissed later, k?” Khat gave him a pointed look. Finn nodded and she continued, “Anyway, I covered her with my magic while the veil was open, to protect her from the Mistress of Death’s mind control juju and…”
Marceau and Finn both sucked in shocked breaths.
Khat finished enunciating each word, “…and I felt Seraphina’s power.”
Marceau asked, “Think you can still tap into it? Use it?”
Khat said, “I protected Seraphina by aligning my magic with hers. I amplified her death magic to keep her from freeing that scary ass Mistress woman. I can sort of still taste it. Magic has flavors for me.” She swallowed.
“Who in the hell is the Mistress of Death?” Finn demanded.
Marceau stood and went to look out the window. “I can answer that. She is the rightful embodiment of Death.”
He felt at risk even thinking about Max’s past, let alone sharing it. He scanned shadows along the darkened street and then reminded himself that would do little good. If Maximilian wanted to confront him, he’d appear right in the room.
He turned his back to the window, but still felt exposed. Marceau continued, “The Mistress was Max’s master. He made a bargain on an ancient battlefield to save his life and the lives of his men. In exchange, Max became her apprentice. He had a similar ability to mine, and she needed a curseweaver. I don’t know many details. Only that he betrayed her and somehow found a way to seal her within the veil. He stole her position and some of her powers. There was documentation in the Conexus Library of a disciplinary hea
ring the Conexus held to try to punish him for his actions. Max murdered them all. Wiped out the entire ruling council. His position as the next personification of Death was never again questioned.” Marceau sat down, a puzzled expression taking over. “What I don’t understand is how the Mistress has any control over Seraphina or how she even knows of her.”
“I may have a clue on that one.” Khat frowned. “Rolf saw what was happening to Sera and tore up the apothecary to lead me to Sera’s bedroom.”
Finn started to say something.
“Don’t ask. By the time I found her, Sera was in a trance of some kind on her knees and the Mistress was yelling at her to use more power. The veil was still holding her, but it was cracking like glass. I thought it might fail at any moment, so I coated her in my magic and found the rhythm of her power. I changed it, like changing the beat in a song, so the Mistress could no longer tap into it. The Mistress was pissed and started beating against the veil with her fists. She said she’d fed Sera her power, claiming when Sera was dead all those years in the veil that Sera had been with her. The Mistress used that time to feed Sera the death magic.”
Finn’s forehead wrinkled. “No wonder her powers were all tied to death when she came back. We thought it was because she’d died by a curse.”
Marceau said, “Exactly what did she say, Khat? It’s very important. Try to remember if she gave any indication of what type of magic she gave Seraphina.”
“Spirit. She said she gave her ‘necromancy over spirit,’ but I don’t quite understand what that means.”
“If true, it means Seraphina has powers in all five elements. She’s had difficulty with earth, air, fire, and water since her”—Finn paused—“resurrection. But I’ve always told her those powers are in her still, somewhere. She just had to get control over her new strengths to find them.”
Khat said, “No Spellcaster has ever had all five elements. I thought it was impossible.”
“She would be the first I’ve ever heard of,” Finn answered.
Khat rubbed her dark, baggy eyes and said, “Then it’s even more important we bring her back, right?”
“Khat, you look exhausted. You haven’t had time to recover from helping Finn.” Marceau’s expression was one of pure sympathy.
Finn ran his hand along Khat’s cheek. “Maybe he’s right, Sparrow. I could try to call in the local witches. Audra might have another option if the price was right.”
Marceau didn’t want Khat to hurt herself, not when he had another option. Max wanted this for so long, a way to gain complete control over him. Max had punished Marceau. Max had manipulated and abused him, but he’d never managed to break him. Max could never take away Marceau’s free will.
Khat squeezed Finn’s hand and said, “I want to. I need to. Seraphina is my best friend. No local witch is going to be able to pull off the particular spell you found, Finn, at least not before Friday. Marceau is right, the incense recipe alone takes longer than we have. Lynette is coming tonight. We’re out of time and options. I think I can help Seraphina, so I have to at least try.” She folded her arms over her chest. “You understand that, don’t you Finn? Have you not done the exact same thing?”
Finn studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Yes, I have and I do understand. You forget one big obstacle, though. Say Lynette makes it here and say she agrees to unbind the curse. Then, you manage to pull aside the veil, and Seraphina does reawaken. If all of those things happen, we still have the vindictive personification of Death incoming.”
Marceau knew that was where he came in. He had finally found love and family for the first time in his life. But it was bittersweet because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, Max would never let him keep them. He would use them over and over as a weapon and they would suffer for having won Marceau’s love. If he could barter with Death one last time, Marceau could spare them his wrath.
“One step at a time, Finn,” was Marceau’s only response.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A faint knock echoed from downstairs.
Marceau looked at his watch and said, “Could be her, but if it is, she made record time.”
Finn and Marceau clomped downstairs. Finn stood to the side of the door holding a poker from the fireplace in one hand and a glass bottle of cloudy liquid in the other. Marceau raised an eyebrow at the bottle.
“Trust me, it will slow down any supernatural.” Finn grinned.
“I don’t doubt it.”
Finn nodded and stepped to the side as Marceau unlocked the row of deadbolts. Finn broadened his stance and raised his arms as Marceau cracked open the door.
Lynette stood outside in a black trench coat, her hair tucked up under a black fedora. “Well, I sped all the way up here. Aren’t you going to let me in?”
Marceau stepped back and she stepped inside.
“I do love that car of yours, Marceau. Smooth as can be even at one hundred and thirty miles per…”
Finn stepped from behind the door and Lynette stood frozen. Her mouth agape in shock.
“Hello, Mirela.”
She jumped. “I-I’m no longer that girl. Foolish, naive Mirela died many, many years ago in a swamp.” She took off her hat and shook her head. Long, blonde curls fell obediently into place, and she wore more makeup than usual. The dark kohl lining her eyes made the one milky white one appear even lighter. “I am Lynette, now.”
“Yes, of course. Forgive me, Lynette.” Finn’s words were polite, but his jaw ticked.
Marceau shook his head behind her. They’d discussed Finn’s need to hold it together. Without Lynette’s help, Seraphina was lost.
Lynette said, “I’d heard you were a Sin Eater. Of course, Maximilian does brag nonstop. But the effect on your appearance is even more striking than expected. Pale white suits you.” She smiled up at him and started to reach her hand forward as if to touch his face.
Finn’s teeth ground loudly as he jerked his chin back to avoid her intimate touch.
“I’m glad the Vanquish was to your liking, Lynette,” Marceau interjected. He gave Finn a poignant look of warning. “If tonight goes as I hope, you may consider it a small token of my appreciation.”
At that, Lynette’s gaze finally left Finn.
Marceau held out his arm and said, “Let’s go upstairs, shall we? I have a proposal to make. One I’m confident you will find mutually beneficial.”
They started up the stairs with Marceau automatically placing his hand under Lynette’s left elbow to help her balance. His assistance seemed to soften her defensive posture. Finn climbed the stairs behind them. Lynette’s progress was slow but steady.
“You can relax on the formality, Marceau. I know you’re as bored with Maximilian’s requirements as I am. I don’t know how much time I have before he realizes I’m gone. I am, well I was, his strongest and most independent in the hive mind, until Babette.” She smiled. “His control over me is limited. I’ve had plenty of practice in shielding my thoughts, but he can still access parts of my mind through the hive. Babette agreed to keep him occupied while I’m here. She has a knack for keeping him quite entertained, but even she has her limits.”
Marceau could not control his grimace. He’d wondered about the look Babette and Max had shared at the Hall of Fame, but he had tried to not dwell on it. Knowing Max and Lynette were intimate wasn’t a surprise. Max never hid his high sexual appetite. It should have come as no surprise he’d taken another undead lover.
Lynette brought him out of his thoughts. “It took me most of the day to drive here despite your lovely little sports car. Time is of the essence. I’m showing great trust in you, to risk being here. But you mentioned a plan to free me from Maximilian’s control? I’d have simply laughed if anyone else made such a claim, but you are prone to a severe case of seriousness.”
They entered the loft’s living room and Khat stood and stepped away from the couch.
“A djinn? Really? Marceau your standards are slipping. When you claimed to be
in love, I expected…”
“Can it, Lynette. She is with me.” Finn walked over and put his arm around Khat. “This is Khatereh.”
“She… is with you?”
Khat asked, “Why do I even bother with glamour here anymore? You recognized me as a part djinn, how exactly?”
“Um, hello? Undead supernatural? I don’t see the world in the same way as the living, especially with this.” Lynette pointed to her blind eye.
Marceau always suspected she saw something different through the eye Death had affected. Now he wondered why she didn’t seem to notice the hex still visible on his skin.
“Your weak attempt at looking anywhere close to normal isn’t going to fool me,” Lynette said.
Yeah, I can’t do this kissing up thing.” Khat stepped in front of Finn. “So look, Mir…”
“Lynette,” she snapped. “I am Lynette.”
“Fine, Lynette,” Khat drew out. “We don’t know each other and don’t have to be besties. Ever. Just for tonight, though, let’s put the attitude to the side. I think I can give you what you want… I think you can do the same for us.”
“I’m listening.”
Lynette opened her black jacket and Marceau helped her take it off. Khat stopped talking and glared at Lynette. She wore a tiny blush pink dress. It clung snugly and shimmered, accentuating each curve.
Marceau gaped, his arms still holding her coat in the air. He’d seen Lynette in a hundred elaborate outfits, mostly in the style of bygone eras to please Max. But, he’d never seen her dressed as modern, or as provocative, as this. Closing his eyes, he wondered. Finn. She’d dressed sexier for Finn. “Yes, well if we could all take a seat.” Marceau gestured toward the living room area.
Khat took Finn’s hand and marched over to the loveseat.
Marceau laid Lynette’s coat across the back of a chair and set down her fedora. Leave it to her to dress like a spy when sneaking away. She always did have a flair for the dramatic. He extended his elbow and assisted Lynette to the couch. Khat’s gaze softened at Lynette’s mobility challenges. By the time they sat down, Khat had looked as if she felt a little guilty for the death glare she leveled at Lynette over her dress. Lynette’s beauty was striking, but her body clearly struggled to process her mind’s instructions.