Witch & Curse Page 31

  Observing the preparations, the imp sat and stared, as imps will—impishly—at Michael. Michael took a deep breath, forcing himself to be calm and centered before the ritual. Excitement was rippling through him though. Through throwing the runes and reading the entrails of several small sacrifices, he had verified the truth of the curse of the Cahors. Their loved ones usually died by drowning.

  He had a wonderful new way to strike out at the Cahors.

  Chanting in Latin, he reached into a tank of water and pulled a baby shark out by the tail. He held the gasping creature above the altar and raised his knife in his other hand. “Oh, horned god, accept this my sacrifice. Raise up all the demons and creatures of the sea that they might aid me in destroying the Cahors family.”

  He stabbed the squirming shark and let its blood drip onto some dried coriander and bitter root on the altar. When the creature at last stopped squirming he dropped the body upon the altar as well. He picked up a candle and set the herbs on fire; in moments the body of the shark ignited and began to burn.

  Michael leaned forward to breathe in the smoke. The stench was terrible, but the feeling of power was almost overwhelming. He closed his eyes. “Let the creatures of the sea hear my voice and obey me. Kill the witches. Kill every last Cahors.

  “Let all the demons harken to my cry. Today the Cahors witches must die. Emergo, volito, perficio, meum, nutum!”

  In the smoke above the altar, images slowly appeared, snapping into clarity . . . and into reality. Off the coast, sharks cast back and forth as though catching a scent of blood in the water. They worked themselves into a frenzy as they moved closer and closer toward the shore.

  Farther out to sea the ocean began to boil. Dead fish bobbed and floated to the surface, cooked completely through in an instant. The waters roiled, and slowly from the depths of the ocean something stirred, awakening.

  It groped its way from its watery grave, hungry, searching. Blind from having lived so long in the blackness at the bottom of the ocean, it could still sense movement near it. Every living thing fled before it in terror. It opened its mouth to expose hideous teeth, jagged and each nearly a foot long.

  Spiny scales covered its eel-like head as it cast this way and that searching for its prey. Slowly its serpent body unfurled itself and its powerful legs began to thrash. Long toes with wicked nails slashed through the water as it made its way to the surface, killing everything in its path.

  Only the water sprites who sailed through the water like silent ghosts did not run from it. Instead they laughed soundlessly and spiraled around it.

  “On this Halloween night, a killer whale has tipped over a small fishing boat. Witnesses who were on a nearby vessel saw the beast ram into the boat hard enough to flip it. The two men inside the boat disappeared and it is not known whether they drowned or were killed. In other news . . .”

  Holly turned off the car radio.

  She pulled up to the cliff from where she liked to stare out at the ocean and stopped the car. She got out, still squinting. Driving had been a trick with the enhanced vision, but she thought it was maybe starting to fade.

  That would be a distinct relief.

  She sighed as she strode to the edge of the cliff and looked out at the waves. Something wasn’t right. There was a dark spot not that far from shore; she frowned and strained her superpower eyes, trying to see what it was. A fin broke the surface of the water on the edge of the spot; then another and another until she saw ten of them: sharks.

  They were diving in and out of the spot; with a shudder Holly realized that it must be blood. They had killed something, and from the looks of it, it was large. She watched the ocean predators circling and diving, and though she felt afraid and somewhat repulsed, she couldn’t force herself to look away.

  At last the activity began to die down and the sharks turned in a pack and begin swimming up the coast. The spot remained behind, not breaking up on the water, like a shadow.

  Her cell phone rang and she jumped. Her hand was shaking slightly as she pulled the phone from her purse.

  “Yeah?”

  It was Amanda. Holly half-listened to her cousin as she watched the fins slowly disappear in the distance. The coven was meeting to discuss her desire to rescue Jer.

  “All right,” she said coolly. She felt defensive. They have no right to keep me from going if that’s what I have to do.

  “We’re going to meet on the Port Townsend ferry,” Amanda continued. Port Townsend was a beautiful enclave of old Victorian homes on an island across the bay.

  “Ferry?” Holly asked, the word piercing through the thoughts in her head. “But, Amanda . . .”

  “Tante Cecile has said protection spells. She also says it’s the only place we can discuss this privately. He has spies everywhere.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it, Holly,” Amanda snapped.

  Amanda hung up.

  “It’s not safe,” Holly murmured to the dial tone. “I know it’s not safe.”

  As Holly turned and walked back to her car, Michael stared into his scrying stone and smiled.

  Seated beside him in Michael’s chamber of spells, the imp’s grin broadened. He opened his mouth and spoke in a perfect imitation of Amanda’s voice, “ ‘Just do it, Holly.’ ”

  Michael laughed. “Now do Tante Cecile.”

  “ ‘You’ll be safest on the ferry, Amanda,’ ” he mimicked.

  “That’s great. That’s perfect.” He patted the creature on its back.

  Part Two

  Full

  “When the moon in the sky is round and bright

  Evil comes out to play that night

  Witches cavort and mad men rave

  And creatures reach out from beyond the grave.”

  —Druid Prophecy

  FIVE

  QUIET MOON

  Green man hear us as we plead

  Grant us the power that we need

  In the darkness we crouch and wait

  Help us as we hone our hate

  Goddess help us in our quest

  Keep our enemies from rest

  In the stillness let them hear

  Their own hearts pound loud in fear

  The Cathers/Anderson Coven: Seattle, October

  Kari frowned as she glanced at her watch. She was leaving her apartment, joining the throngs of Halloween celebrants as she walked toward the secured parking lot where she kept her car.

  She was running late to catch the ferry for the Circle meeting. She and Circle Lady had been engrossed in an e-mail conversation that she had been loathe to break. The two had spent less time contacting each other as Kari became more involved with the coven. It was safer that way, but she missed the conversations with the other woman, so it had been a nice surprise when Circle Lady had IMed her about an hour ago and said, “How are you?”

  At least, I think she’s a woman. Problem with the Internet is you never can tell.

  Kari had spent time pouring out her frustrations about Jer and Holly to Circle Lady—boy-girl stuff, like how come “Warlock” had basically dumped her and what could she do about it? Of course she hadn’t mentioned anything about magic, battles, blood feuds, possession, or Black Fire. In fact, she’d managed to leave magic out of the conversation almost entirely.

  Circle Lady had asked a few questions about Warlock—how he was, etcetera—and Kari had shot back, “Who knows?”

  Which was true.

  She was at the lot; the attendant, dressed in devil red, a pair of short horns sticking out of his dark hair, grinned at her as he unlocked the gate.

  “You going’ to a party?” he asked conversationally.

  “Yes,” she replied, distracted. “A party. Uh-huh.”

  “No costume,” he chided.

  “I’m going as a witch.”

  He shook his head. “You need a broom. Pointy hat.”

  She glanced uneasily at the sky, looking for falcons, glancing around for burning bushes, not loving any of thi
s. She remembered the conversations she had used to have with Jer back when she was stupid and naive, had done everything she could to get him interested in her so he would show some magic to her. She had begged him to let her help him with his rituals. It had all been so exciting back then, dark and a little dangerous.

  Well, now it’s a lot dangerous, and I’m not sure how long I can take this. Nicole had the right idea bailing like she did. If it wasn’t for school I’d be out of here in a minute.

  That wasn’t entirely true.

  Okay, and if I knew Jer was safe, the dork. Even if he’s hot on Holly, I still care about him.

  She drove to the ferry landing, parked, figured out which ferry to take, and noticed with a mixture of relief and apprehension that it hadn’t left yet.

  I wouldn’t mind missing this meeting. Sparks are gonna fly, if I know Holly. And I am not loving meeting on a ferry in the middle of Elliott Bay. We might as well hold signs over our heads for Michael to read: DEAD MEAT.

  She hesitated for only a moment before climbing out of her car. After all, there was safety in numbers, and the way things had been lately, she could use a little safety.

  The ferries of Washington State were sleek and modern vessels replete with nice lounges and snack bars. As the costumed crowd swarmed onto the Port Townsend ferry, Holly got herself a Diet Coke and found a large table that would accommodate the entire coven, if they squished in. She wondered if Kialish’s father would show. He was a friend of the coven but not a member. Maybe he would feel that he had no right to interfere.

  She sipped her soda, waiting nervously, distractedly admiring some of the costumes—lots of fairies, lots of guys with pretend axes in their chests—wondering what was going to happen. She pressed her fingers to her temples; she’d have to ask Amanda for some aspirin when she showed up. The last of the supervision seemed to have gone, but it had left a nasty headache. It didn’t help that she couldn’t figure out why on earth Tante Cecile had insisted they meet on water.

  Last call was sounded and the ferry began to cast off from the dock. It was after dark, and the glittering lights of the Emerald City played out in the side windows; ahead, the water was dark and deep.

  There was still no sign of anyone else, and she began to worry.

  Did something happen to them?

  She wasn’t certain whether she should go in search of them or stay put; she decided to stay where she was.

  The engines picked up speed and the ferry moved into the waters, leaving behind the city.

  Still she waited. Half an hour dragged by.

  Then she finally saw Eddie, who turned and gestured to someone behind him. Kari and Amanda caught up to him, Kari glaring at her; the three trooped toward her, and Kari demanded, “Where have you been?”

  “What do you mean?” Holly frowned. “I’ve been here. Isn’t this where we planned to meet?” It seemed the logical location.

  “You weren’t here,” Amanda chimed in, also looking peeved.

  “I was too.” Holly felt her temper rise. “You must have missed me.” Then she looked past the three of them. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “We don’t know,” Eddie said, looking unhappy. “We figured they were with you.”

  “Something’s up,” Holly said. “Meeting out here is crazy.”

  “Tante Cecile said it was the best place,” Amanda said. “She called me and said so.”

  “Well, where is she?” Holly asked.

  “Look,” Eddie cut in. “Whatever’s going on, I don’t like it. And I for sure don’t like the idea of you splitting on us to go on your big quest to ‘save’ Jeraud Deveraux. You’re our leader. You can’t abandon us the way Nicole did.”

  Holly took a deep breath. “I thought about that.”

  Eddie visibly relaxed, his sharp features softening. “Oh?”

  Kari, however, frowned and said, “Holly, if you sense that he’s alive and you don’t do something about it—”

  “I’m going to do something about it,” she cut in, her voice rising. “I’m handing leadership of the coven over to Amanda.”

  “Fine,” Amanda bit off. “I’m leader.” She glared at Holly. “You can’t go.”

  “You have to be leader.” Eddie balled his fists in anger. “You were chosen to be the leader. You carry the power.”

  It was Holly’s turn to raise her voice. “Don’t tell me what to do, Eddie. Your coven couldn’t protect him. What makes you think ours can? The vision got sent to me. By my ancestor. To save him.”

  “Because she’s in love with Jean!” Amanda exploded. “She doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what’s happening to us with Michael. She’s obsessed with her dead lover, and they can be together through Jer and you. She was as ruthless in her day as any Deveraux, and she doesn’t care who dies trying to save her little channeling partner.”

  “I. . . I. . .” Holly faltered. I love him. But Amanda has a point. Is that any reason to abandon these guys?

  “I forbid you to go,” Amanda announced, drawing herself up imperiously. “And I will do everything in my power, magically and otherwise, to keep you from going.”

  As if on cue, the floor began to shake. The walls rattled; some guys at the next table over frowned and said to Holly’s group, “Wow, tough takeoff. We’re from Montana. Do they always do that?”

  “No,” Holly said, glancing at Amanda. “And they don’t take off, exactly.”

  The vessel shuddered again. Voices began to rise. A man got to his feet and said over his shoulder, “I’m going to go see what’s going on.”

  “Something’s wrong,” Holly said. She stood.

  The others followed.

  As they made their way out of the snack area and past the rows of theater-style chairs, the enormous report of an explosion rocked Holly and sent her sprawling. Parts of the ceiling fell loose; a window buckled; the boat began to list.

  Claxons blared an alarm. A man’s voice interrupted the elevator music that had been playing and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, please stay calm. Please proceed to a designated life jacket area, where you will receive a life jacket from one of our easily identifiable crew members. Please stay completely calm. There is no reason for panic.”

  “Bite me!” Eddie shouted. “There’s plenty of reason!”

  Scrambling out of the middle of the walkway toward the wall, then thinking better of it because of the exploding windows, Holly closed her eyes and invoked protection; Amanda joined in, and then Kari and Eddie. They ran, joining hands; as one, without discussion, they went outside.

  “Are there life jackets out here?” an anxious woman wearing a cheery Halloween sweater yelled in Holly’s face. When Holly didn’t respond quickly enough, the woman darted past her to another passenger, glomming on to him and shouting, “I need a life jacket!”

  The ferry was lurching forward awkwardly like a giant child’s pull toy on a string. It was also listing heavily to the right. Passengers were fleeing out the doors, jostling the four; screams rose in the night as the shriek of grinding metal rose higher and higher.

  Then a strange, alien wailing filled the air, joining with the claxons in a terrible cacophony. The wailing was coming off the side of the ship; Holly burst through the massing throngs and fought her way to the railing.

  “Oh, my God,” she breathed, looking down into the water.

  Shrouded in darkness, occasionally illuminated by the lights of the ferry, it was a nightmare, a creature composed of huge taloned claws, tentacles, a clawed beak, and eyes that glared balefully up at her. In its eyes—each as large as a car tire, each a bloodshot circle of blackness—gleamed not precisely intelligence, but an evil intention, a hunger, a glee. It blinked when it saw Holly.

  It knows me.

  Birds wheeled overhead, shrieking and screaming as they dive-bombed at Holly. She saw that they were falcons, blue-black and aggressive, several times nearly hitting her as she ducked.

  Then creatures emerged from the dark water on either side
of the monster; they were of vaguely human shape, but covered with scales, their fingers hooked. As Holly watched, they hammered their hooks into the side of the ferry and climbed their way up the hull, very fast, very close.

  The ship listed again, harder.

  Eddie came up beside her and grabbed her arm. “I think it’s going to sink,” he shouted.

  She pointed. “Look.”

  As its minions hoisted themselves nearly to the top of the rail, the monster rose from the waters, hefting itself up on some giant stalk or pair of legs—God knew what—and its tentacles whipped in Holly and Eddie’s direction.

  Eddie grabbed her, throwing his arms around her and pulling her away from the side.

  The ferry canted again. Passengers lost their footing and slid toward the wheelhouse containing the snack bar and the rows of chairs. Holly and Eddie were swept up by the momentum, and together they slammed hard against the bulkhead.

  Amanda was on the ground with a huge gash in her forehead. Kari was bending over her, shouting to Holly, “Do something!”

  “Amanda, are you okay?” Holly cried. She put her hand on her cousin’s head and murmured, “Heal her, my Goddess.”

  Amanda looked up at her, blood gushing from the wound. “The Goddess isn’t the one who put it there, Holly.”

  “Michael Deveraux!” Kari shouted to the falcons swarming above them. “I’m going to kill you myself!”

  I knew this meeting was wrong. I knew it! Holly thought, fury mingling with fear. I should have said something, should have refused to come.

  Water rushed through the doors of the snack bar, swirling up to their ankles, then their knees. Holly realized that the opposite side of the vessel was underwater, and she said to the four, “Grab hands. Hold on tight.”

  With a grunt, she forced Amanda to her feet and half-walked, half-dragged her to a crew member who stood beside an unlocked bin of life jackets. People were fighting one another for them, grabbing at the orange vests as the beleaguered man tried to pass them out. Holly realized their chances of getting some were next to nothing.