Azrael finished drawing out her spell while the others went around, checking to make sure the windows and doors were securely boarded shut. No one wanted to give Blais the chance to escape, which also meant they were locked in. In front of her, central to the circle, was the clarity stone.
When she finished the last symbol, she looked up in time to see Lance showing what looked like an old photograph to Maridale. With a warble of air, Maridale changed into a middle-aged man, handsome in the face but unkempt.
Lance stepped back to examine Maridale, then nodded, an odd expression on his face. That’s when Azrael saw the resemblance. Lance strolled over and knelt.
“Your father?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, taking her hands in his. “He’s the only thing I think Blais was ever afraid of. How are you holding up?”
“A bit scared, but I want to get this over with. I’m ready when everyone else is.”
Lance nodded, then leaned down, kissing her gently on the lips. Before he pulled away, he whispered, “I love you. Come back to me.” He stepped away, saying to everyone else, “We’re ready.”
Garrin took his spot on the far right side of the room. “Sarah will be waiting for you in the veil, Azrael. She’ll help you find him safely. When you come back, Lance and myself will be ready to attack. Hopefully, the image of his father will distract him. Caleb will pull you to safety.”
Caleb gave her a wink and patted the top of his bat.
“As you know, we’ve decided against guns since it would be too hard to shoot him without hitting someone else. But in case of emergency, there are daggers laced with poison in a bag beneath the couch.”
“Are they for Blais or us in case we don’t succeed?” Caleb asked.
“Either,” Garrin answered with a straight face. “Are you ready, Azrael?”
“I suppose so,” she said, taking a deep breath and reaching into the veil.
~*~
Warmth and darkness engulfed her. She opened her eyes and stood. Although the veil was quiet, she sensed she wasn’t alone. Azrael turned around. The redheaded woman standing behind her gave a small smile. Her cousin. The woman both Lance and Garrin loved. Sarah.
The resemblance was undeniable. They both had flaming hair, high cheekbones, and green eyes, but where Azrael had a softer, more athletic build, Sarah was smaller, her features more delicate.
“Hello, cousin,” she said.
“Um, hi.”
Sarah sighed. “I’m guessing you’re not my biggest fan.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, you only have the heart of the man I love and dropped me into this crap hole mess of tracking down a serial killer before he kills me. Of course, I’m your biggest fan.” Azrael rolled her eyes and turned away, trying to focus on Blais’s purpose.
Sarah came and stood beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t expect you to understand. I’ve done horrible things in the past, more than you know. But I’ve paid for my mistakes. I’m not asking for forgiveness, but I want you to understand that I brought you into this because I believe you’re our only hope. I’m not the only one either.”
She nodded to the left. Azrael followed her gaze. In the distance, she could see glowing shadows, hear murmuring. “What is that?”
“Other spirits. Women who can’t move on because of what Blais did to them. They want to help. They all have faith now that you’re here.”
“No pressure there,” Azrael whispered, eyes locked on the shadows.
“They’re staying back because they don’t want to get in your way, but they thought their presence might help you find Blais. They are all focusing on his purpose.”
“That might help. It might magnify the purpose.”
“We need to hurry, though. The veil feels…impatient. I sense the creatures here dislike the intrusion Blais has caused.”
Azrael nodded. This was no to time for storytelling. She cleared her mind and began to walk. Sarah stayed quietly at her side. Twice she felt compelled to strands, only to notice a web of magic wrapped around them. The clarity stone was doing its job. On the third one, she knew she had Blais. That familiar click of success was only tarnished by the condition of the strand she was looking at.
“What—what is wrong with it?” she asked, eyes drawn to the black spots dotting the silver strand.
“I don’t know for sure,” Sarah muttered. “I’ve only seen a few like these before. I think the creatures of the veil have marked it somehow.”
“Marked it for what?”
She shook her head.
Azrael stared at the strand. This was Blais’s purpose, that much she knew for sure. What she didn’t know was what would happen when she grabbed a marked strand. Would it trap her in the veil again? Would it kill her?
“Azrael, we need to do this soon. I can feel them coming.”
So did she. A darkness was ascending upon them, one thicker, more ominous than the one she currently stood in. Her chest felt tight, throat dry. She knew what she needed to do, but fear held her in place.
“Azrael?”
“It’s not fair,” she mumbled.
“What’s not fair? Azrael, we really need to hurry.”
She took her eyes off the strand and focused them on Sarah. “It’s not fair that he loves you. Even if I survive this, I’ll still never have him.”
“Really? Now is not the time to discuss this,” Sarah argued.
“Maybe not for you, but I’m the one whose life might end the moment I grab this strand.”
“Look.” Sarah glanced over her shoulder. “Sometimes spirits can remove pain. I can’t take away his love, but I might be able to make it not hurt him anymore.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes. Get me Blais and consider it done. But hurry. They’re coming,” Sarah said, her eyes darting madly around the room.
Azrael nodded and reached for the strand. “If I die, tell Lance I love him.”