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One web search and thirty minutes later, after my insistence that I drive and she navigate, my sister and I stood in the half-empty parking lot adjacent to an ornate Christian church. Even in the twilight darkness, the cherubic angels carved into the exterior walls and many turrets stood like chubby gargoyles, beckoning me to go inside.
“Isn’t that odd?” my sister mused beside me.
“Isn’t what odd?” My eyes were focused on the play of light painting those shiny faces.
“Can’t you feel it, psychic sister? Almost like they’re singing to us, making promises for our future. If we’d just come inside, we’d see.” She slid a hand into mine, and all that cherubic glorification in their siren song fell silent, the lightshow muted. “You wanted to be part of that feeling, didn’t you? To be a part of whatever could make you feel that good?”
I looked at her face and saw sadness. “I did.”
She gave me a forced, knowing smile. “I did, too, the one and only time I came here. It’s in the air, and it surrounds you like a giant hug, until you realize that you’re being forced inside against your will.” Her voice held a bitter tone. “I didn’t like this place before. Esther didn’t either. You know her—she doesn’t cry anywhere, but here I couldn’t get her to stop. And to think she might be in there, scared and wondering where I am.”
I squeezed her hand. “We’re going to get her back.”
“Can you...? I don’t know.” She waved her free hand in the air. “Can you make it go away? Like throw your wand at it or something?”
I bit back a chuckle. While Sera’s understanding of Wicca came from television shows and movies, she was right. I could do something about this mess. “Give me a sec.” I closed my eyes and focused.
There. Just beneath the breeze, I could feel it. I slipped power into my inner shields, wanting to unravel it and not succumb to the sensation again. Like fresh cotton candy, the magick warmed in my senses and melted away at the same time. I sent a bead of my essence along its filmy strands, and to my dismay felt it reached as far north as Baltimore and as far south as Dale City.
Mass compulsion spell? Did I know anyone who could push magick out that far? I couldn’t do it. Even hooked to my best friend, Lucy, or my other—only—boyfriend, Jacob, I couldn’t spread myself thin enough to cover that much area, much less maintain it. This was unlike anything I had ever encountered before. Maybe a coven, but a coven within a Christian church?
“Zoë.” Sera curled her arms around one of mine.
My beast growled low inside me and I opened my eyes. Someone approached. “I see him.”
The man stood just under six feet tall, with broad shoulders, like a swimmer, well-muscled beneath his tidy blue button-down shirt, but lean. His hair appeared dark in the parking lot lights. I couldn’t make out the color of his eyes. In a crowd, he would’ve blended in.
“But can you ‘see’ him?” my sister asked.
I reached for him with my mind and met a solid wall of resistance. “No, nothing. He’s blocking me out. Someone’s taught him how to shield.”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He smiled a hundred megawatt slice of perfection—all straight, white teeth and saccharine sweetness—and gestured at the building behind him. “It’s even better on the inside.”
Oh, I bet. “Who are you? The late night caretaker? You’re a little short to be a Lerch.”
Amusement crossed his face. “I’m Heath McMillian.” Nothing more—like the mere mention of his name should’ve been enough.
I looked at Sera, but she shook her head and shrugged. “Sorry, we need a little more than that. Should we know you?”
One corner of Heath’s mouth twitched; that wasn’t the response he expected.
I’d done enough dog-and-pony shows in my life to remain uninclined by theatrics, and I had met better con men. Not amused, not impressed, and as he strode closer, my inner beast whined. She didn’t trust him either, and I maneuvered my sister behind me. “That’s close enough.”
As quickly as it had appeared, the imperfection in his mask was gone, but not without dimming the shine in his eyes. He was reassessing us, all the gears spinning in his head. “It’s not important who I am. Not really. I am just a lowly disciple in the vision created by God and presented to the world through Jareth.”
Sera poked me, and I crossed my arms. “Well, hell, that’s just the man I wanted to meet.”
He had the courtesy to look offended for a brief moment before pasting a smile back on. “Jareth enjoys new faces. Come in. Come in and be enlightened!”
Heath started back toward the church entrance, and while I really didn’t want to follow him, we’d come with a purpose. If going in and meeting the monster meant getting Esther back, we would follow this puppet of a person right into the hellmouth. The fog in my head dissipated, like a bad hangover. As reassuring as that should’ve been, it didn’t make me feel better. My inner furry had gone stoically quiet, on the offensive, and even though it was more wary vigilance than preparing for an impending attack, that made me feel worse.
“Are you sure about this?” Sera asked, as we left the protection of the parking lot and walked toward the yellow light streaming through the glass entry doors.
“No, but I want to meet this Jareth.”
Sera yanked on my arm and met my eyes. “You aren’t going to like it inside. I’m just warning you. If you thought the vibe out here was heavy, just wait until you step through those doors.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but Heath was waiting, door open, like the perfect host. We stepped into the light together.
“What the hell?” I couldn’t move my legs, like snakes of ice were crawling up my body, leaving each part frozen as they passed.
“I told you,” Sera muttered under her breath. “Gah, I can’t move either.”
“I know, I know, hold on.”
“Well, come on,” Heath said. He should’ve been more concerned about what was happening. So why did he look for all the world like he was pleased we were stuck?
“What have you done to us!” I growled, a bit of beast coloring the undertone of my words.
He stepped back, his face pale. “What are you?”
“Zoë?” My sister’s voice was small again.
I turned to her, and her face lost all its color. “Sera?”
“Zoë, what’s wrong with your eyes?”
Oh hell. “All black?”
She nodded.
“It’s a thing.”
“A Wicca thing? Or a Zoë thing?”
Nice that she made the distinction.
Daniel once told me that when I lost my patience, my pupils spilled across the white of my eyes like ink. All the color—brown irises and all—disappeared, leaving infinite ebony orbs. I understood their reactions. Daniel had fallen out of his chair the first time he’d seen it.
I raised one hand, closed my eyes again, and concentrated on whatever was binding us. Through my ethereal sight, it looked more like finely woven strands of crimson thread than chilling snakes. Thank the Goddess! If there was one thing I didn’t handle, it was snakes, real or otherwise. I opened my eyes, wound my hands through the binding, and ripped it off in one loud snap.
“You’re not human.”
Poor Heath. turned paler than any ghost I’d encountered, but for the first time since we’d met him, he was exhibiting a genuine emotional response.
“Oh, I’m human, and once I get free, you’re going to get a firsthand taste of just how human I am, you asshat.” I pulled the invisible threads and shook my legs and arms.
“Not if I get to him first!” Sera grasped around her legs. “Stupid, magickal string crap.”
“You can see it?”
She paused to give me an annoyed glare. “Yes, I can see it. You can see it. Why wouldn’t I be able to see it?”
“Really?” Egads, Sera, sometimes....
“You’re a witch,” he stammered.
I’d almost forgotten about Heath in the midst of our sibling rivalry.
Sera dusted the remnants from her hands. “No, you idiot, she’s a damn Wiccan, but this? This,” she said, still tearing the threads from her legs, “is a God-given gift. So back off!”
I raised a brow as our tour guide turned tail and ran down the center aisle. “Seems the invitation wasn’t for everyone.”
“I guess not. Now what?”
“Well,” I contemplated. “We’re inside the church, our new friend ran away, but we still haven’t met the mysterious Jareth. I propose we find him ourselves.”
“Sounds good to me!” She gave me a giant hug before marching up the aisle. “Jareth!”
