Something changed in the room. Derek could feel the energy rising up from the floor and the air growing heavier. He took a step back from the altar, feeling as if he had to push the air away to do so.
Granted, he’d been afraid occasionally, but he’d never backed down from anything because of fear. Paul had taught him that. Accept the circumstances, recognize that he was afraid, analyze his surroundings and the situation, but then go forward.
In the past forty years most of the fear he’d faced had been career based. Would the speaker of the house really manage to get him fired? Would a particular politician convince the IRS to audit him for the past decade? Were his facts correct or would he be outed as an idiot in the morning edition?
He hadn’t been physically afraid often. The last time had been weeks ago when someone had taken aim at him. And now. He was definitely afraid right now.
What the hell was he doing? He was challenging everything he believed in because he was getting off on the idea that he could give life back to Breanna.
He should close up everything, lock this room and never come inside again. Even better, he should have it gutted and blessed by a priest.
What if it was true? What if it was possible? What if he was as powerful as Grace said?
He was. He knew he was.
He told himself it was because he had an intellectual curiosity, that’s all. For years he’d nurtured his habit of questioning everything. Why should he stop now?
They drove to the Crow’s Nest in Ellie's car. Or in Ellie's mother's car, to be exact. The interior smelled of Lily Hunt, with her penchant for using cinnamon in almost all her spells. She was a lovely woman, but a weak and ineffectual witch. The fact that Ellie had such power was no doubt due to her father's influence. He was much stronger, but he fought magic. Grace suspected that Caleb had a puritanical belief that magic was evil. For that reason he didn't use it as often as he could have.
"What do we do when we get there?" Ellie asked.
"It all depends on how receptive Derek is. Will he listen to me? Will he listen to anyone?"
"I never know when a vision is going to happen. I don't know when what I saw will happen to Derek."
"You must train yourself," Grace said. "It's possible to do so, Ellie. Your powers are at the behest of your will, not the other way around."
Ellie glanced at her, then back at the road. She could almost hear the girl’s protests. The young didn't understand that magic was a tool. It was shaped by personality. How powerful you became was directly tied to how strong a person you were.
Blessedly, they weren't far from Derek's house. No, she wasn't going to call it that. It didn't belong to Derek. He shouldn't live there, either. The house held the memory of the magic that had been done in it. Black magic.
You couldn't expunge that from a structure. You could have a dozen exorcisms, but it would never purify what had happened within those walls. The only remedy was to raze the house, burn what was left, and never build on the land again. She doubted that Derek would do such a thing, but hopefully she could convince him to move. Sell the house to someone who had no connection to magic. They would be the safest there.
Ellie pulled the car into the Crow’s Nest garage.
Grace had never been to the house. She'd had no desire whatsoever to visit the place.
She followed Ellie into the kitchen, through the hallways and up the stairs to the second floor. Grace had the strangest sensation of being pulled toward the highest point in the house, almost as if something was exerting an immense sucking force. She didn't say anything as Ellie opened one door, revealing an office, and then another.
"He isn't here."
Grace looked up, went back to the stairs and stared up at the third floor landing. She didn't say anything as she started to ascend, but Ellie followed her.
She hesitated, looked down at Ellie and said, “Go back to the car. Even better, go back to my house. You'll be safe there."
She pulled out her key ring, extracted her house key, and would've handed it to Ellie.
The girl was shaking her head. "No, I'm not going to leave you here alone. I'm the reason you're here, Grace. What kind of person would I be if I left you alone?"
"A wise one."
"I'm not leaving."
Grace put the key back on her key ring. In all honesty, she was grateful for Ellie's presence even though it might turn out to be an extremely foolish move.
They were heading into danger. She could feel it. Something was terribly wrong in this house and they were walking toward it.
Derek was on the second stanza when his phone beeped at him, alerting him to one of the sensors on the property. The camera showed him Ellie’s car heading toward the garage. He touched a control on the bottom of the picture and it focused on the picture of two women. Ellie, her face looking older than when she’d left. Beside her was Grace.
Damn it, he didn’t want to stop now. The door was locked, they couldn’t interrupt him. Instead of blowing out the candles, stepping back and leaving the room to greet the two women, he continued speaking.
It took him a few minutes to realize that the air was not only heavier, but the room had gotten darker. The incense had grown stronger in the past few minutes. The stench of decay had faded, but the odor of flowers was making it difficult to breathe.
He continued, ignoring the beep from his phone that told him that one of the doors had been opened in the house. Neither woman knew about this room. He hadn’t told anyone and it would take them a while to find him.
As if they’d heard his thoughts, the phone rang, interrupting him. He declined Ellie’s call, intent on the incantation.
Nothing could have made him stop at this moment. He was – the word escaped him and he made his living in words. Excited, that was it. Thrilled. Anticipation thrummed through him. Something was happening, he could feel it. He couldn’t explain how he knew that he was going to be successful, but he did. He just did.
Should he have placed something of Breanna’s nearby? A lock of her hair, a toothbrush — something with her DNA?
He allowed himself to think of his wife as she had been on their wedding day. The ceremony had been held on the grounds of the Crow’s Nest, next to the lake. It had been a beautiful, magnificent spring day and his heart had swelled as Breanna had walked down the aisle alone, the five hundred guests murmuring their appreciation for his beautiful, smiling bride.
He’d nearly been overcome with love at that moment.
How much of it had been real? Breanna had told Grace that she’d come to love him, but when? A month later? A year? Two weeks before her death?
The room darkened even further. He blinked several times, feeling strangely out of place, as if he was having trouble ensuring that he had his feet on the floor.
The light from his phone was the only illumination and he continued to speak the words of the spell.
“Derek?”
Damn them. Insufferable, meddling, harpies. Didn’t they realize what he was doing was so much more important than what they wanted, whatever it was?
He didn’t want to be disturbed. He couldn’t be disturbed. Not now, not when everything was working just as it had been planned to work. Years had gone into this. Years of his life’s blood and his agony, for just this moment.
“Derek?”
Another voice added to the first. They were not going to give up. They were going to destroy everything.
The doorknob rattled.
He could feel her at the door, knew that she put her hands on the wood, could feel her breath chilling the warmth in the room.
“Derek, please, don’t do this thing.”
“Go away!” He didn’t recognize his own voice. It was lower, angrier, filled with a bottomless rage.
They couldn’t be allowed to interfere, not now. He had to do something. He stretched out his right hand and pointed it at the door. Lightning flowed from his splayed fingers, charging the wood.
He heard her yelp as she was thrown backward against the wall. Good. Maybe he had broken something. She’d need medical care now and that would stop her from coming into the room.
“Derek.”
He recognized that voice although it took him a few moments to place it. Ellie. He knew her, or at least he thought he did. In a life far, far distant from this one. A sweet young thing with bright red hair as orange as a Texas sunset. She had a naïve way about her, for all that she was a witch. A young practitioner of magic with some talent that needed to be developed. Perhaps he could help her with that.
The spell was not finished. He focused his eyes upon the image of the page and forced his mouth to keep saying words that would lift him out of the darkness and give him life once more.
“Derek, I’m coming in.”
She would ruin everything. She had to be destroyed, before he was. He lifted his hand once more, but something stopped him. Annoyed, he half turned and scowled at the door. To his surprise, it opened. What had he once learned? That innocence would occasionally triumph over evil.
He wasn’t evil; he’d just been cheated of his life and he wanted it back.