The October Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Heather Killough-Walden

  Dominic mulled this over. Logan watched as a muscle twitched in his jaw. “So, what you’re saying is that he… possessed someone else? Someone nearby?” he asked.

  Lehrer nodded.

  “Probably someone else in the gym,” Meagan supplied. “Which narrows it down to almost every senior student in the school and quite a few of the teachers as well.”

  “You’re telling us that somewhere in this school, Sam Hain is walking around dressed as someone else? In someone else’s body? And it could be anyone?” Dom asked.

  “Any senior,” Lehrer corrected with a nod. “But yes.”

  Dominic swore softly under his breath and ran his free hand through his hair. “It could be one of my band mates, for Christ’s sake.”

  “It could.” Lehrer sighed again and pushed himself up and out of his desk. “Which is why you need to be aware of a few very important things.” He moved back to the big desk at one end of the classroom and walked around it. Logan watched him open his top drawer and pull out several small leather pouches. Each was a slightly different color, but it was clear that the discoloration was due to aging.

  “We have twenty-five days until the Blue Moon, at which point, I believe Samhain will be forced back into his own world, regardless of what happens in this one. In the meantime, each of you will wear one of these amulets. It will protect you from his influence to a certain degree. I have one here for Katelyn as well. Logan, will you give it to her when you see her next?”

  Logan nodded.

  Lehrer came back around the desk and handed a pouch to each of them. Meagan immediately opened her pouch and tied the leather pendant around her neck. The silver disc that dangled from it was the same Celtic symbol that they had all worn before, but there seemed to be something scratched into the back of the disc.

  “A few new protection spells have been woven into each necklace,” Mr. Lehrer explained as they followed Meagan’s example and tied their own medallions on. “As it is possible that Samhain will have adapted to the strength of the necklaces on their own, I thought it prudent to weave something stronger into them.”

  They nodded their agreement, but remained silent so that he could continue.

  “I also want you to keep a few things in mind when dealing with your fellow students and with the teachers that were at the dance Saturday night. If his previous form was any indication, Samhain has little control over his own appearance and almost no ability to hide his inherent power. Therefore, whoever possesses the body he has inhabited will most likely go through some kind of change; be it eye color or hair color or even mode of dress. Something about Sam Hain will show through. So, keep your eyes peeled and be vigilant.”

  Epilogue

  Logan sat at the windows of her bedroom and gazed out into the dawning night. There was not a cloud in the sky, which was actually depressing to her. It was all too perfect and too beautiful. She felt like a storm – so she wanted one.

  It would have been preferable to the silence and the hooting of an owl in the distance. That quiet, calm dark seemed to press in on her, a heavy weight that made it harder to breathe. She wanted lightning. She yearned for thunder. It would have taken her mind off of things, if only for a few delicious seconds.

  With a heavy sigh, Logan looked down at the notebook in her lap. The pages it was open to were blank. They’d been blank for close to an hour and a half. She so badly wanted to empty her mind of the worries and doubts swimming within it. She wanted to create another fantasy world to escape into, at least for a little while, until she had to go to work at the bakery and put up with the once-dead and unfortunately alive-again Randy Hodges.

  She needed the diversion of her words so badly. But she was scared.

  She had no idea what would happen to what she created. What if she made up another werewolf or a vampire and he came to life? What if she gave someone in her story a power that Sam could somehow absorb and use against her?

  Logan groaned with the inner pain it caused to not be able to write. She just wasn’t willing to take the chance that what she penned might become real. Sam was powerful enough as it was. Who knew where he was, or what he was doing even at that very moment? He could be out there in that darkness right now, she thought suddenly. He could be looking in at me.

  Logan blinked and jumped up, the notebook on her lap skidding to the floor in a pile of cardboard and paper. Without hesitation, she pulled the cord that closed the blinds over her window. Then she yanked the white, gauzy curtains shut after them. She felt edgy. Uncertain.

  She looked down at the notebook on the carpet and pondered it in silence.

  What if…. She blinked, kneeling beside it. What if I wrote something else? Something about James and Taylor – something that would make them stop fighting? Could it come true?

  In her heart, though, she knew it didn’t work that way. Life simply wasn’t that fair. She knew that it wasn’t her words alone that had caused the terrifying, otherworldly events of the last week. It was a combination of October, Meagan, Samhain, and Logan’s words. All of it.

  With a heavy heart, Logan lifted her notebook, gently closed it the right way, and stood. She walked to her dresser, set the notebook down, and glanced up at the calendar that hung on the wall. It was October 8th.

  Twenty-three days to go….

  *****

  It had been two days since Mr. Lehrer had told them about Sam’s continued threat. In the hours that had spanned during that time, Dominic had become truly paranoid. He’d found himself studying everyone so closely that several people had wondered whether there was something wrong with him. One of his teachers thought he might be on drugs.

  He wished he was. He wished it were that easy. But it wasn’t.

  After Lehrer had given them their protective medallions and warned them of the danger still out there, Dominic had given Logan a ride to the pharmacy and then to the hospital. He hadn’t wanted to leave her side, even when she went into her brother’s ward and the nurses had told him that only family members were allowed to visit at that time.

  So, Dominic had camped out in the car in the parking lot and waited.

  Nothing had happened. The hours had passed and, by the time Dom had run through every one of the songs on his stereo at least twice, he began to wonder whether Lehrer might be wrong about Sam still being out there. Maybe Sam was done. Maybe Logan was safe after all.

  Then Logan had come back out of the hospital to make her way across the parking lot toward his car. Her long golden hair fanned around her beautiful face in the slight breeze, and her bright gold eyes glistened with unshed tears. As he’d gotten out of the car to open her door for her, he’d admitted to himself that Lehrer couldn’t be wrong. Because if Dominic were Samhain, he wouldn’t give up and go home either. Not where Logan Wright was concerned.

  “You can’t have her,” he whispered now as he stared off into space and distractedly fingered the strings of his guitar.

  “What, man?”

  Dominic blinked and glanced up. Alec Sheffield was watching him with a bemused expression, his hands wrapped around the base of a plugged-in microphone. “You say something?”

  “No.” Dom shook his head and smiled. “Never mind. I’m talking to myself.”

  “Well, so long as you don’t talk louder than me when the speakers are on, we’ll be okay.” Alec smiled at him and Dom nodded, giving him a quick salute to show he understood loud and clear.

  “Right.” Alec turned to the other two boys in the band and checked to see that they were all set up and ready. “Let’s get started.”

  It was the first time the band had met since the dance Saturday night. In fact, the truth was, Dominic hadn’t seen much of his friends at all since that night. Things had been rather crazy for everyone. Alec’s parents had gone out of town, leaving him with responsibilities that had even kept him out of school. Shawn had been busy at the mechanic’s shop where he worked after school.

  Nathan McCay, the drummer, had simply skip
ped most of his classes, as he was wont to do. All in all, Dom hadn’t had a chance to talk to any of his friends much over the last week. He hadn’t even thought about their music until tonight.

  This was nice.

  Music had always been his way out of the world. He wondered if he felt the same way about playing as Logan felt about writing. It was his escape.

  On the upside, Alec had new music for them to try out tonight; it seemed he’d been on a creative streak while stuck at home watching over his parents’ estate. And now they had a new song.

  Dom was grateful for it. The challenge would take his mind off of things for a while; keep him from going mad.

  “From the top,” Alec said. Nathan began the drum beat. A second later, both Dominic and Shawn kicked in with guitar and keyboards.

  Two hours later, Dominic could feel that the tension had more or less completely drained from his body and he was smiling again. As he packed up his guitar, Shawn waved goodbye and he and Nathan hopped into his diesel truck. The monster revved to life and squealed out of the lot.

  Dom nodded at them both as the truck passed by and out of sight, and then he turned back to his instrument.

  “Hey, you sound good,” Alec told him as he pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed the key to his motorcycle from where it rested on the tool chest in the garage. “I gotta admit I was a little worried that your head wouldn’t be in it enough to catch everything the first time around.”

  Dominic stopped what he was doing and looked up. Alec was leaning against the door that led to the kitchen beyond. He had shoved his hands into his pockets and was watching Dominic with a knowing smile. “So…” he started easily, “I’m guessing that you’ve finally made your move with Wright, then?” he asked, his brows raised questioningly.

  Alec had long been privy to Dominic’s crush on Logan Wright. It was no wonder that he asked about her now, with the way he’d come to her defense at the dance on Saturday night. Of course, Alec and the others all thought it had just been an act. They thought it was an elaborate play put on by the principal and a few chosen insiders. Even so, however, it was obvious that Dominic had paid special attention to Logan’s “character.”

  Dom chewed on the inside of his cheek. Had he made his move with Logan? Strictly speaking?

  Yes, he thought to himself. She knows how I feel. That’s more than we’ve ever had before. It’s a start. “I guess you could say that,” he said.

  Alec smiled a winning smile, his light blue eyes twinkling in the overhead garage lights. “I’m proud of you. Took you long enough.”

  “Shut up,” Dominic said. But he smiled too, and continued packing up his guitar.

  “You goin’ out with her tonight?” Alec asked as he made his way toward the garage exit.

  “I don’t know. She has to work. I might pick her up afterward, though.”

  “Right. Take care, man.” Alec stopped in the garage doorway, the night outlining his tall frame from beyond. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said as he shot him one last meaningful smile over his shoulder. Then he left the garage and strode to his bike, mounting it with practiced ease and grace.

  Dominic watched him go for a moment before he buckled down his case and propped it up in the corner of the garage.

  It wasn’t until he’d pulled down the garage door and gone back inside to take a soda from the fridge that it hit him.

  Blue eyes…. Light blue eyes. Alec had been looking at him through blue eyes – the color of ice.

  But Alec Sheffield didn’t have blue eyes. He had brown.

  THE END… for now.

  (This series is continued with Secretly Sam)

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  Secretly Sam

  By Heather Killough-Walden

  The October Trilogy, Book Two

  “Books are a uniquely portable magic.”

  - Stephen King

  Introductory note on some real history:

  In the year 1561, a highly intelligent and learned innkeeper by the name of Hugh Draper was accused of witchcraft and imprisoned in the Tower of London. During the course of his stay within the Salt Tower, he carved an imprint on one of the walls which can still be found there today. It is a highly detailed astrological Zodiac chart complete with his signature and the date of its creation.

  Unlike the vast majority of prisoners accused of performing magic during this age, Hugh Draper was not in fact innocent of performing that magic. Draper was a self-proclaimed wizard. Also unlike his fellow prisoners, Draper was not tortured, nor was he put to death. There are no records of his execution, nor his escape. There are also no records of his life after imprisonment.

  In fact, for all intents and purposes the accused wizard, Hugh Draper, simply… disappeared.

  And was lost to time.

  Prologue

  61 A.D. Island of Anglesey, Britain….

  Genovea chewed on her lip, this time almost drawing blood when she once more dipped the quill’s tip into the ink pot that rested beside the parchment the grove members held open before her.

  She glanced up, desperately wanting reassurance. Ciara, her best friend, gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod. It was a sign of empathy, of understanding. Ciara knew what it was like to be under Aidan’s tutelage, to be the one his ocean fire eyes burned ruthlessly into.

  “Now, Genovea. Waste no time, lass. Ink is precious, do not let it dry uselessly,” said Aidan, his deep voice cutting across Genovea’s already raw nerves.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered as she placed the nib to the parchment and closed her eyes in concentration.

  She’d been at this all day. The ground was damp and the hem of her dress had long ago been soaked through. She itched where bugs had bitten her, she was thirsty, and her fingers were cramping around the quill.

  It was more difficult than it should have been to work this day. Word had come from neighboring villages. The Romans and their blood-thirsty general, Suetonius Paulinus were carving their brutal path across the Keltic lands, wiping out families and their culture without a care. Every sundown, there were fewer of her kind to light candles and pray to the gods. Every morning, more Roman crucifixes littered the grim landscape, their nailed bodies rotting over the moors and heather.

  Genovea had good friends in a settlement two days’ ride east. They’d grown up together, chosen their paths together. It was estimated that Paulinus would be heading to that village next. She wondered whether she would ever see her childhood companions again. She wondered… what the world was coming to.

  Such wonderings interfered with the vitally important task she now performed. Not that this particular spell didn’t always take a while anyway. It was long and the words had to be chosen with utmost care.

  These words swam through her head like fireflies, darting this way and that as if daring her to attempt to catch them and bind them to paper. They were words no one had ever heard, words both new and timeless, some of them difficult to read, much less difficult to pronounce. They zigged and zagged, leaving trails of star dust in their wakes.

  But catch them, she must. She was the only one who could.

  She was the bard.

  It was her task to create the spell that would be cast on the first day of Samonois. This was her third year creating the spell. Genovea reached out with her mental fingers and touched the nervous words. She praised them, calmed them, and drew them out of herself. And then she wrote them down on the scroll before her.

  These were the last. It was finished.

  Genovea exhaled tiredly, set down the quill pen, and looked up at Ciara where she sat across from her. “I’ve finished.”

  “Ye’ve done verra well, Genovea,” said Ianna, a druid elder. The old woman’s silver hair shimmered in the
waning sunlight. She had been teaching Ciara the ways of their grove; Ciara was to take her place as one of the grove leaders tomorrow, just before the casting of this spell.

  “Aye, ‘tis true,” said Aidan.

  Genovea turned to look at the grove herald. He was Ianna’s age, which made sense. They were twins. The herald smiled warmly at her, a slightly bewildered but plainly proud expression on his weathered face. “Ye have.”

  He turned to Ciara then. It was Ciara who would be casting the Samonois spell this year. It was to mark her first steps into the position of a leader.

  “Take it, Ciara,” he told her. “Learn it well.”

  Ciara nodded, her look serious. Genovea moved back a little, allowing her friend room to roll the parchment up. She felt the magic in the words draw up with the stiff paper, temporarily contained and ready to be used.

  Tomorrow was the first of October. The spell would have to be cast tomorrow night. Genovea hoped Ciara would be smiled upon by fortune in its telling.

  She thought of the crosses that obliterated her lands….

  And wondered whether the spell would be cast at all.

  Chapter One

  Modern Day….

  I’m going to kill him.

  It seemed so simple. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She could just kill him – here and now. So easy. A few swipes of the hand, a stroke of her fingers, and he would be wiped out of existence. Never to trouble her again.

  A car accident, she thought. No – a train wreck.

  Logan’s amber eyes glittered in the October moonlight coming through her bedroom windows. A liquid excitement burned the insides of her veins like gasoline. I’ll have him die in a gun fight. Just like Jesse James.

  The house was quiet. It was empty. She was alone but for the night that whispered through her curtains and the blank piece of paper that waited before her on the window seat. The pen in her hands was heavy and solid, like power made tangible.