Smoke on the Water (27 page)

Scottish accent. More
Macbeth
-ish by the instant.

The athame wielder snapped her fingers and the other two offered their wrists. I stifled my outcry as she slashed them, then her own. The blood of all three mingled in the bowl.

The one not chanting or slashing lowered the torch and the blood caught on fire. Could that happen? It had. When the flame died, smoke plumed upward—and within that smoke, I saw a face. That face turned toward us, saw us, and contorted into something horrible, ghoulish, and inhuman.

I gasped, the sound cut through the cave, broke the spell, and I sat up, back in the cabin, in Sebastian's arms, with the rest of them all around—each touching me, my sisters holding my hands. I nearly clipped Sebastian on the chin, managed, barely, to stop my upward movement before I did.

He kissed me—on the forehead—but still … I liked it.

“Where was that?” Bobby asked.

“Who was that?” Owen countered.

“Why was that?” Sebastian pulled me closer as the others moved away, taking their chairs, rubbing their eyes.

“You were with me,” I said.

“Have you ever done that before?” Raye asked.

“Shared a vision?” I nodded. “With Mary.”

“We knew our powers got stronger with proximity,” Raye murmured. “Maybe stronger still the longer we're together.”

Made sense to me. Especially since I'd just taken five people along on a vision quest.

“What's an evocation?” I asked.

“Invoking someone or something,” Becca answered.

I guess I'd already known that, considering.

“Everyone gather around the table,” Raye ordered.

“Willow's exhausted, she needs to—” Sebastian began.

“Now!”

Raye's voice left no room for disobedience. I got up.

When I swayed, Sebastian scooped me off my feet, which only made the world spin faster. He set me in a chair at the table and took the one next to me, then scooted his so close our legs, our shoulders, brushed. I could lean on him if I needed to. But I knew that already.

“Join hands,” Raye ordered.

We did.

“Holy shit,” Bobby said.

“Sir!” Owen straightened as if poked in the butt with a cattle prod.

The handsome young man I'd seen in my vision, who'd died on a pyre in Scotland centuries ago to save me, now stood in the kitchen with his hand on the head of our mother, the wolf.

“Henry,” I said at the exact same time Becca and Raye did.

The plurality of the word seemed to make him more corporeal. I hadn't even realized he wasn't completely solid, until he became so.

“Mo chlann,”
he whispered. “My children.”

His dark eyes glistened. Raye's eyes, I saw. Becca had Pru's, though they were more hazel than green. What did I have that marked me as theirs? The storm. My visions. Transporting. I still felt left out. Not only because of my blue eyes and blond hair, but I'd actually
been
left out. Henry had been with Raye and Pru with Becca since arriving in this time. I'd only had myself. Spilled milk, but I still would have liked to have my mother's hair, my father's presence, or vice versa.

“How is this happening?” I asked.

“It's you,
mo leanabh,
” Henry said.

My
something,
I guessed. Didn't matter. I just liked the way he said it. Henry had a brogue, both like Roland, and also nothing like him. Because Henry's voice was filled with love, not hate.

My child.

The voice was female and in my head.

“Who was that?”

“Pru,” Becca answered. “I hear her by telepathy.”

“Now we can too,” Bobby said.

The three of you, together, are doing this. For now, you can see your father, hear me.

“My hair was just that shade as a child.” Henry smiled. “Or so my mother told me. To go from light to dark was cause for constant comment, and back then, some suspicion.” His head tilted. “You have her eyes.”

I'd just wished for that connection and there it was. Mind reading? Magic? Or just fate and family?

“I'm glad.”

“As am I,” Henry said. “But I must tell you what you need to know before I become ghostly again. Your vision, Willow, was of a grimoire, a book that contains the instructions for summoning evil spirits.”

The face in the smoke had definitely looked evil.

“That's dark magic,” Becca said.

“To summon darkness, darkness is needed. I wish it wasn't so, but it is.”

“Wait a second,” Raye said. “I know the spell to summon spirits, both good and evil. Good are summoned with the breath of a witch and evil with the blood of one.”

“If she knows how already, why the vision?” I asked. I could have done without the head rush.

“Because Roland is no longer spirit but flesh.”

“What does that mean?”

You misspoke, darling.

Henry smoothed his hand over Pru's head. The love they had for each other was so clear in their eyes, their mannerisms, and their voices that I got misty again.

“I did,” he agreed. “An evil spirit become flesh is a demon, and the spell that you saw—blood of three witches, fire, smoke—is used to summon one.”

“Roland is a demon now?” Raye asked.

“
Mo leanabh,
he always was.”

*   *   *

Sebastian was having a difficult time not breaking free of the circle and running until he couldn't run anymore. But he wouldn't leave Willow. Not when there was a demon after her. And that he believed such a thing only made him want to run all over again. However, he couldn't deny what he'd seen, and the only explanation for it was magic. Or psychosis.

He much preferred magic. Who wouldn't?

“The chief witch hunter of King James was a demon?” Raye asked.

Not technically, no.

Hearing the wolf's thoughts in his head was kind of freaking Sebastian out.

“In my opinion anyone who is that evil is a demon,” Henry said. “But your mother is right, he wasn't truly a demon until he was evil spirit become form.”

“What if a good spirit becomes form?” Becca asked.

“Angel.”

For a minute Sebastian thought Henry was merely using another endearment for his wolf-wife. Then he understood the man-ghost had actually meant
angel
.

“There are angels among us?”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘you may entertain angels unaware'?”

“Old Testament.”

“Yet it still applies.”

Sebastian's headache became worse.

“Never mind that now.” Willow's fingers tightened around his.

His headache faded in response to her touch. Had that really happened or did he just wish it had? Did it matter? His headache was almost gone and his chest, which had been tight with nerves, disbelief, and fear, loosened. He could suddenly breathe much better.

Sebastian was so focused on her, on him, on their hands together and how good it felt, how right and soothing and warm, that when he lifted his gaze and saw the man standing behind Bobby's chair, he thought the fellow had walked in when he wasn't paying attention.

Then he saw Mary McAllister with her hand on Owen's shoulder. She leaned over and kissed the top of his marine-styled dark hair, and Owen smiled.

“What the—” Sebastian began, and someone touched his shoulder.

Bass.

He couldn't breathe again. Only his sister had ever called him that.

He leaped up. Willow and Raye, who held his other hand, yanked him back down.

“Do not break this circle, Doctor,” Raye snapped.

“But—but—”

“There are ghosts here,” Raye continued. “I know. They're with me. Or rather, I guess, with the ones they haunt.”

“Why?”

“First things first. The plan for Roland McHugh.”

He should turn his head and see Emma. How many times since he'd lost her had he wished he could see her, speak to her, just one more time. But he discovered he couldn't. He was frozen with both horror and hope. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he saw her. Probably flee like the coward he was, and right now he had to stay; they had to finish what they'd started. What if he broke the bond and they couldn't get Henry and Pru back? Willow might die; they might all die. And then what?

“Okay,” he said. “I'm okay.”

Something—
someone
—touched his hair.
You are. You always were. You always will be.

He wasn't okay. Not really. But he could pretend long enough to do what needed to be done. In truth, the brush of Emma's fingers and the whisper of her voice had made the panic fade a bit. The warmth of Willow's hand helped too.

“Go on, sir.” He met Henry's gaze. “Please.”

The ghost studied Sebastian for an instant, then went on. “Summon Roland to a place of your choosing.”

“Owen and I can scout the best location for an ambush around here.” Bobby glanced at Owen who nodded.

“Then the girls will do the spell at that location.” Henry spread his hands. “And voila. Roland will appear.”

“Poof?” Willow asked.

“Now that he is flesh, I am not sure how.”

“It doesn't matter.” Bobby's eyes hardened. He was a cop all right. “We'll be ready.”

The girls are fatigued.
Pru sounded very motherly.
Break the circle; let them rest.

Owen withdrew his hands just as Sebastian threw a glance over his shoulder. Emma wasn't there. How could she be? Of course, now that the circle was broken, why would she be?

Owen brushed his fingertips across Becca's cheek. “You're too pale.”

“I'm always pale. I have red hair.”

She
did
look exhausted. So did the other two.

“All three of you take a nap,” Bobby ordered. “You were channeling enough power to light up Las Vegas. We'll scout a location for this trap.”

“Who do you mean by ‘we'?” Willow asked.

“All of us men.” Bobby puffed out his chest and grunted like a beast.

Everyone but Willow laughed or smiled. “What if Roland attacks?”

“We did the protection spell, remember?” Raye indicated the area in front of the fireplace where Sebastian had seen them last night.

They'd been doing more than getting to know each other. Or maybe that was how witches got to know each other, by casting spells and sharing power. Sebastian's headache threatened again.

“How far does a protection spell reach?” Sebastian asked.

“Anyone within the charmed circle is protected.”

Pru trotted to the door and glanced back. Apparently the wolf was going with them.

Sebastian hesitated. “Maybe Pru should stand guard here. The girls will be sleeping.”

“We'll be fine.” Raye made an upward motion with her hand and a vase levitated off the table.

“I don't see—” he began.

“Imagine that's Roland.” She made a slapping motion. The vase smacked against the wall and shattered into a gazillion pieces.

“If that doesn't work,” Becca said, “I could always…” She cupped her palm and a ball of fire appeared.

“That's new,” Owen murmured, and she grinned.

“But very fun and very handy.”

“I guess I could transport him to death,” Willow muttered.

“Except you'd have to touch him,” Sebastian said. “And that ain't happening.”

Becca closed her palm, and the fire went out, leaving the scent of doused flames behind. “Maybe we should just summon him here now and set him on fire.”

“Or summon him to a cliff and toss him off,” Raye said.

“The three of you are as pale as one of your ghosts, Raye.” Owen's face reflected the worry Sebastian felt. “Once you summon him, you might not have enough juice left to end him.”

“Listen to the man.” Bobby stroked his gun. “Besides, I really, really want to shoot the guy.”

“They're probably right,” Becca said.

“And even if they're not, we should let them have their fun,” Raye agreed.

No one had asked Willow's opinion, which might be why she was scowling. Sebastian hoped that was why she was scowling.

“You see any problems with the plan?” he asked.

Willow shook her head, but she didn't stop scowling. She waved him toward the door. He could refuse to go, but then what would he do? Stare at her while she slept? Or stare at her until she couldn't sleep. He knew he wouldn't be able to with someone hovering over him.

He left with the guys, resisting the temptation to kiss Willow good-bye when Owen kissed Becca and Bobby kissed Raye. The only way he was able to stop himself was because Willow spun on her heel, walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

They climbed into the Suburban parked outside—Sebastian in the back seat, Bobby at the wheel, Owen riding shotgun. Pru leaped into the rear cargo area and sat with her nose to the window. Nothing was going to sneak up on them with her there.

They bounced down what looked like an old deer trail.

“We probably need a map,” Sebastian said.

“Got one.” Owen tapped his forehead. “I Googled local topography.”

“I heard Google, blah-blah-blah.”

Owen ignored Bobby. “There's a ridge behind my house that would be perfect for this maneuver but we can't use it, because Becca's family farm is on the other side.”

“And we don't want Roland anywhere near them,” Bobby said.

“Exactly. So I examined the topography of that ridge and found one ten miles from here that is almost the same. Actually better because the area around it is flat not forest.”

“There's flat and not forest around here?” Sebastian asked.

“Not much, but according to Google, just enough. We'll make sure. That way we'll know if Roland is bringing minions. In a forest, that'd be difficult to see.”