Magick Rising (46 page)

admit.

Is he so sure of his power
?

She saw a pattern to his possession of Erik’s body. Pain, then sleep for

Erik. But it had been less than a day. There could be other indicators of his

taking control.

“What is it you hope to gain, Victor? You can’t control Erik forever.”

Celeste spoke with a conviction she hoped was true.

Victor strode to the mirror and rubbed his jaw. “It won’t need to be

forever, just long enough to banish his essence permanently. Then I will gain

my rightful place.”

His place
?

“To what end?”

“Why complete control, witch, what else is there?” Victor turned to

face her, placing himself squarely between Celeste and the doorway. “You

think this is some child’s game or that you are the ultimate prize? Tempting

as you are, Celeste, you are simply a means to an end. A means I will enjoy

on my journey.”

“You will never have me, Victor . . . nor will Erik and I stand by and

allow you to control anything in this dimension.” Celeste continued. “The

lengths we will go to suppress you should be more than clear in your

memory.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, but then so should my lengths be clear to

you. The two of you only bound me by finding an evocation by chance in

the Grimoire. But, how do you explain Erik living the same number of lives

that you have . . . or my being here again? You found one piece of black

magic, but I have more. Whose skull do you think you carried and caressed

daily these two hundred plus years?”

Nausea rolled in Celeste’s core. It wasn’t possible. They’d bound him,

cast him into darkness with Erik’s sacrifice and spilled life’s blood.

The night they’d unwittingly played into Victor’s hands, his pursuit of

ultimate evil was unknown to them. As Erik’s twin, also born with magic,

they had believed his intent to study with the brotherhood was based on

honor, as was theirs. Erik and Celeste had frantically worked to undo what

they’d done. With their combined powers and the untested spells of the

Grimoire, they’d helped Victor unlock the portal into black magic.

Immediately, they tried to undo their mistake. Almost as one mind, they’d

chanced upon the evocation in the book. Read the same words

together—the same instant.

Death of one loved by the purest of hearts, committed by the purest of hearts, is the only

way to ensure evil withdraws into its prison.

As Celeste reached for the knife to kill herself as the offering, hoping

her love would be considered pure enough, Erik had grabbed her hands and

turned the knife toward himself. She’d fought, but his strength and

determination were stronger. With his hands on hers, he’d buried the knife

in his own flesh. To bind Victor.

Please, no
.

All this time she’d believed Erik dead, believed his sacrifice had rid

them of Victor and the black magic he possessed. But, in reality, they’d only

bound Victor to Erik. They’d shared a body all these years, but Erik had no

memory of why. No wonder he thought himself mad.

“Why make me believe he died?” Celeste worked to put the pieces

together. “What about the skull?”

“All you did was delay the inevitable, Celeste. Erik didn’t die that night.

Your punishment was to believe he had and to spend centuries trying to

‘resurrect’ him. His was to have no memory of you or what had

transpired—I used dark magic to imprison his memories—to share his

earthly shell with me until you made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. That was

the important piece, Celeste. The pure heart who made Erik’s sacrifice

possible, who ‘bound’ me to him . . . had to also be the one to offer a

solution. By offering yourself.” Victor walked purposefully toward her.

Celeste held her ground having heard the crunch of tires on the front

drive. Rose. She couldn’t let her walk into this unknowing.

“Explain the skull, Victor. How did you manage that deception?”

“The skull was dug up in some cemetery while I was in control of ‘our’

body. I sent it to you to solidify your belief in Erik’s death. To remind you of

your guilt. You, Celeste, carried and cared for a stranger’s skull all of these

years.” Victor stopped less than a foot from her. “When you found the right

combination yesterday, spoke the right words of offering and exchange,
you

gave me the key I needed to begin my complete absorption of this body. The

ability to meld it to my essence.”

Don’t come in here, Rose
.

“But why Erik and I? What is it we have that you need so desperately?”

Victor reached out and stroked her hair before she could pull back.

“I’m far from an idiot, Celeste. You will not trick me into a boastfulness that

could jeopardize what I’ve waited so long to achieve. Suffice it to say that

you and Erik have something in common. Something I
will
possess.”

Celeste pulled away from his hand, thoughts of ways to supplicate him

gone with the revulsion his touch evoked. “There is a reason you have been

unable to gain this before now, a missing link in your pursuit. We will find it

and stop you again, Victor.”

No matter the cost
.

As Celeste walked to the door wearing a semblance of bravado she was

far from feeling, the echo of Victor’s laughter followed her. Slamming the

door only offered a brief respite, as the malicious sound clung to her like the

stench of decay as she went in search of Rose.

Somehow they would find a way to cut the heart from this evil. Or die

trying.

Again.

And again.

CELESTE FOUND ROSE busy in the kitchen, half empty grocery bags

strewn about the countertops.

“You should have waited for me to help you carry these inside.”

“I was just going to come find you to check that all was okay.” Rose

waved her off. “No worries, Brogan met me at the garage and carried most

of them. He has gone back out onto the grounds to make certain no damage

was done to trees that might threaten the power lines when this new storm

hits.”

The disturbing exchange with Victor must have been more visible on

her face than Celeste thought, because Rose stopped in the middle of

emptying a bag after glancing toward Celeste.

“What’s happened?”

“How is it you are the only one I am unable to keep my thoughts and

feelings from, Rose?” Celeste laughed, a small sound, but it helped to dispel

some of the darkness time with Victor left inside her. “Victor returned.

We . . . talked. Rose, I was so wrong. So misled.”

Rose turned the flame under the kettle up and motioned to the seats

alongside the tall counter. “What did the evil one say?”

“So much, but so little.” Celeste again felt the horror at his taunt about

the skull. “He told me that the skull . . . the skull is not Erik’s. It’s a

stranger’s. All these years, I have touched and protected it.”

A small cry escaped Rose. “You could not have known . . . we could

not have known.”

“By offering myself in the ceremony, it is my fault he is able to hurt

Erik. He wants to use the body himself. What does that mean for Erik’s

essence? How do I fight this without hurting him again? Without losing him

again?” Celeste shook her head. “I can’t let it happen. Help me, Rose, you’ve

always known how to direct me, to help me see what was unseen. What am

I missing?”

“There has been a price for that guidance, child, a price willingly paid.”

“A price? I don’t understand.” Celeste stared at the woman who’d been

so loyal, who’d nursed her soul through the darkest times. Anytime she’d

questioned why, Rose had been vague, never giving a solid answer.

Rose patted her hand. “When the time is right, the need great enough,

then you will know.”

Standing, she began the calming ritual of preparing tea. Celeste wanted

to ask, to push, but knew from centuries of experience that Rose would

share only when she was ready.

Until Rose deemed the time right, Celeste would trust that the woman

wanted the best for her.

And for Erik.

In the middle of drinking her cup of tea, Celeste looked up through the

rising tendrils of steam and caught sight of Victor/Erik through the window

above the sink. Brogan stood with the other man beneath a broad, bare oak,

deep in conversation, motioning about him at the grounds.

“Rose, I’ll be outside. Brogan is with him.” The ‘him’ referred to was

obvious to both women.

“Go, I’m fine.” Rose waved her off.

Hurrying, trying not to appear or feel alarmed, Celeste pulled a jacket

on as she joined the men. Brogan nodded to acknowledge her presence, and

the other man met her gaze squarely.

Erik
.

He was back, sooner than the last time. How?

“I wanted to thank Brogan for finding me in the storm yesterday. He’s

said a car is a couple of miles up the road twisted around an oak about the

size of this one.” Erik pointed toward the massive oak they all stood

beneath. “The registration in the glove box proves the car is mine. Seems I

had a narrow escape.”

“Aye, from the looks of the car, you are lucky to be breathing, much

less walking about,” Brogan said. “I let the emergency services know the

driver was okay. They’ll tow it into town.

Celeste wanted to check Erik again for injuries after hearing the

condition of the car he’d been driving, but knew he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Thank you, Brogan. Mr. Cahan will be staying with us for a bit at Montbleu

while he secures new transportation.”

Erik lifted an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by her words.

Is the man daft to believe I’d let him out of my sight after trying to get him back for

over two hundred years
?

“I need to get back to clearing the storm debris. Let me know if you’ll

be needing anything else, miss.” Brogan tipped his hat and wandered back to

his truck. It started with a low grumble before being driven toward the back

of the estate.

Moments of silence stood between Erik and Celeste, but it didn’t feel

awkward. Celeste felt no need to rush into conversation to fill the emptiness

with words.

This was the way it had been in their first lifetime. No need to speak,

but saying so much with their silence.

Milky sunlight filtered through the many branches above them as a

companionable wind stirred the last clinging leaves. One then another fell

with a faint rustle.

“I can’t remember the last time I noticed the wind.” Erik spoke softly,

“Unless it was to wonder if it would affect an airstrike or other artillery. I

forgot it could be this way.”

“It is easy to overlook the ordinary if we aren’t careful.”

Celeste wanted to know about where he’d been, how he’d chosen the

path of warrior after magic. She motioned toward the long drive.

“Walk with me.” She ended the sentence as a question, rather than a

demand. Hopeful. Cautiously hopeful. They still had much to face.

Erik offered his arm. Celeste hesitated only a fraction of a second

before accepting it. This was Erik, not Victor. A warrior, a mighty wizard

and always the gentleman. Some things never changed.

For several minutes they walked, each lost in their own thoughts.

Erik cleared his throat. “You mentioned we were here before. When?

How did you manage to keep this place—Montbleu?”

Safe questions. Ones easily answered to fill the gap in time since they’d

known each other. It was a start.

“Sebastian, the priest—our teacher—willed it to me. After that first

lifetime when we were here at the same time, I made sure to know the laws

concerning inheritance in order to make sure I retained it. I willed it to

myself each lifetime . . . or rather, a descendent of the original Celeste

Soraya. No one questioned the passing of a family name along with

Montbleu.”

Erik listened intently, head angled toward her to let Celeste know her

words and answers were important.

“How about you? How did you transition from wizard to warrior?”

Erik looked away for a moment before answering. He stopped walking,

and she stopped with him. She left her hand on his arm, unwilling to

surrender the contact.

“In my first lifetime, there is no memory before I woke in a

monastery . . . dying. A knife wound. The infection was the worst part,

leaving me with a brain fever and barely alive for weeks. Months. The

monks who cared for me didn’t know who’d brought me to their doorstep.”

Erik looked at her. “Now I imagine it was you.”

Her hand dropped from his arm at the horror of what he had gone

through.

“No, Erik. If I’d known you lived, I would have cared for you myself.

But I woke from unconsciousness believing I’d killed you, there was no

reason to believe otherwise.” Celeste shook her head. “What malicious evil