Tortured Souls (The Orion Circle) (26 page)

“So as you probably guessed, our mother had another vision,” Gavin says, wringing his hands together. “I let her talk to Logan since it made no sense to me at all.”

“She said her vision has changed for the worse,” Logan says, laying his head against mine. “It’s darker now, you’re lost, frightened. She thinks it may be too late to reverse. She was screaming, Kacie. Shrieking and wailing. It was almost impossible to get anything coherent from her. The best I could surmise is that by suppressing your visions, you’ve crippled yourself.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven — Restoring the Visions

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Restoring the Visions

Raven paces the room. “I don’t understand. Why were you suppressing your visions?”

“The Foxblood Demon, Yardley, was tormenting her nonstop in these visions,” Logan says with a deep sigh. “The doctor gave her a sleep aid. We thought it best to suppress them since they were taking a huge emotional and physical toll on her. We were afraid he’d try to possess her again.”

“Again?” Raven gasps. “How many times has he tried?”

“Twice,” Logan replies. “Both times she was awake. We were afraid he’d have better luck when she was sleeping. We wanted to make sure she was protected when she was most vulnerable.”

“I haven’t had one since,” I murmur, clinging to Logan. “Even after I stopped taking the medication last week, they never happened again.”

“You have to understand, this demon was attacking her,” Logan says. He pulls away and kisses my forehead. “We couldn’t allow him to torture her every night.”

“But he wasn’t the only one I was seeing in the visions,” I say as my chest tightens. “The souls of the kids would appear sometimes.”

“I think they were piggy-backing on Yardley’s visits to try to drop clues,” Logan mumbles, dropping his head in his hand. “We screwed up royally. Now we’re tapped out on research and are no closer to finding the relic he’s using to bind himself and the children to this plane.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Raven says, pacing back and forth. “You suppressed the visions because they were hurting Kacie. But what’s this about a relic?”

“Yardley bound the souls of the children he murdered to the ribs he extracted from their bodies,” I say, shivering from the memory of that awful vision. “We don’t know where he hid them. We’ve been through the whole house, looked at blue prints and everything. The property is so huge we don’t have time to explore it all.”

“What’s the rush?” Gavin asks.

Logan and I exchange a glance. Should I tell Gavin the truth?

“Don’t try to lie to me, little sister. I can see right through you.”

“Um, well, I don’t know how to put this, I mean it’s all speculation until we hear back from Dr. Hayes,” I say, staring at my hands to avoid his gaze.

“Stop stalling and spill it,” Gavin yells.

“Several people have died on Halloween over the last decade,” Logan says rescuing me. “Other than cause of death, we can’t find any correlation. They all died of a massive brain hemorrhage. That type of extreme damage tends to be related to supernatural causes. We think the Foxblood Demon’s been trying to possess clairvoyants and killing them in the process.”

“And you think Kacie is next,” Raven says, her eyes wide with fear.

“Halloween is only ten days away!” Gavin says, leaping to his feet. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t,” I reply, cringing from the angry glare plastered to Gavin’s face. “We don’t know if it’s true or not. It’s just speculation. And there’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”

“We need to figure out how to induce the visions,” Raven says as she renews her restless pacing. “Have you tried going back to the scene of the crime?”

“We can’t take her back there. It’s too dangerous,” Logan insists. “Last time Yardley attacked her and sent her flying about ten yards. He’s gaining strength, and he doesn’t like his personal stomping grounds invaded.”

“He’s panicking,” Raven says.

Her pacing drives Gavin to the breaking point, and he grabs her shoulders to stop her. “Please stop that,” he says, giving her a little shake.

“Sorry, I think better when I pace.”

Happy chimes from the musical doorbell fill the room, completely at odds with the dark energy. Without a word, Gavin releases Raven and stomps from the room heading toward the door. The moment Gavin’s hands are gone, Raven paces circles around the sofa like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. I glance up to see her eyeing me with an intense stare.

“Let me braid your hair,” Raven says, dropping to the sofa beside me.

I blink at her a few times in confusion. “Uh, why?” I ask, wondering about her sanity.

“The pacing isn’t working,” she says, reaching for my hair. I turn around to give her better access. “I need to keep my hands busy. It helps me think.” Her hands make quick work of my long hair. “Damn, that didn’t take long enough.”

“Mom!” Logan says in a surprised gasp. “What’re you doing here?”

“Can’t a mother come by and meet the girl who’s stolen away her son?” Mrs. Finley asks in a cheerful tone. She laughs when Logan cringes. “I’m just kidding, hun. Though, I did come to see Kacie.”

She floats across the room, the picture of grace. Her light blonde hair is tied back in a neat French twist with several strands artfully framing her heart-shaped face. Intelligence and wisdom gleam in her soft brown eyes. When she smiles, tiny creases appear at the outer edges, stretching to her temples. Reaching out, she takes one of my hands in both of hers. She taps one of her short, pink nails against the back of my hand in a steady beat. Her eyes drift closed, and she hums a melancholy tune under her breath.

“Well, you’ve managed to stop yourself up good, my dear,” she says, making a clucking noise with her tongue.

The first thing that pops into my head makes my cheeks burn—God, I hope she isn’t talking about bodily functions. I pull my hand from her grasp with the intention of burying my face to hide my embarrassment.

“Mother!” Logan yelps. I glance up at him to see a flush creep across his tanned cheeks. “Think about things before you say them.”

“What?” she asks, tipping her head to the side. I can see the moment his meaning sinks in. Her eyes widen and she throws her head back laughing. “Oh boy, I meant you’re psychically blocked. Sorry…”

Yep, just what I needed. I meet my boyfriend’s mom and she’s busting up over a potty joke. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. Fearing I’ll do both, I keep my mouth shut in a firm line. When her laughter dies down, she grabs her large black hobo bag from the ground and roots through it while mumbling under her breath. With a cry of triumph, she pulls out a blue velvet pouch. She places it in my hands before making a gesture to open it. After untying the drawstring, I dump the contents into my hand.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, turning the antique silver bracelet over in my hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The bracelet is covered in strange etchings that look like some ancient runic language. It’s lightweight, which is surprising, given the size. The bangle is about two inches wide. A large silver bracelet like this should weigh more, and yet I can barely feel it at all. Near the clasp, several flowers are woven together with thorny braches.
Briars
, my mind whispers. The clasp opens with a tiny
click,
and the moment I place it on my wrist, it closes by itself. Within moments the bracelet shrinks until it’s the perfect fit.

“Mom, is that…” Logan seems unable to finish his question.

“It is, Logan,” Mrs. Finley says, rubbing her hands together. “The Briar Bracelet finally found a new home.”

“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Finley,” I murmur, tracing the interlocking briars. “I’d like to say I can’t accept something this wonderful, but it feels so right on my wrist.”

“That’s because it was meant for you,” Mrs. Finley says with a chirp of triumph. “I had a premonition and in it you were wearing the bracelet.”

“How could you have a premonition when you’ve never met her?” Logan asks, confusion lacing his voice. “I thought that was impossible.”

“It is, at least for me,” she replies, glancing over at her son. “But her essence was all over your clothes.”

“Mother!” Logan gasps, dropping his face into his palm.

“What did I say this time?” she asks perplexed. She waves her hand in the air. “Never mind. When I picked up your clothes to do the laundry, there was enough of Kacie’s essence on them for the premonition to come through. I think it’d been trying to for days. Would explain the headaches and my constant need to be near the bracelet.”

While playing with the clasp, I realize it won’t open. “Um, Mrs. Finley, why can’t I take the bracelet off?” I ask, trying to remain calm as my fingers scratch at my wrist.

“The bracelet chose you, Kacie,” she says in a nonchalant tone like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “It will only come off if it’s safe.”

I’m not sure I could be more confused than I am right now. Taking several deep breaths, I count to ten before speaking. Logan has mentioned in the past that his mother is scatterbrained but well-meaning. I glance over at her, noting her serene smile. I’m stuck in a strange bracelet and she’s calm and happy.

“Safe?” I ask in a squeaky voice. I have so many questions, but I don’t think I can voice them without screaming.

“Is it chafing you?” Raven asks with a horrified look on her face.

Good, I’m not the only one who thinks it’s strange to be shacked by a bracelet—no matter how pretty it is. It’s odd. Whenever I wiggle the bracelet it loosens a bit and moves with my hand. The moment I stop it tightens up again, hugging my wrist. I feel like it should bother me… and yet…

“Oddly, no, it doesn’t bother me at all,” I say, twirling it around my wrist. “Other than the fact I can’t take it off, that is.”

“That just means you’re in danger, dear,” Mrs. Finley says in a cheerful tone that belies her words.

“Mom, please explain in detail,” Logan says when she doesn’t continue. “You forget, Kacie isn’t from a long line of witches.”

“You’re a witch?” I ask, my eyes widening at the thought.

“Yes, dear,” she replies with a small laugh. “I thought you knew. Logan, haven’t you told her anything?”

“Wait, if she’s a witch does that make you a warlock?” I ask, glancing at Logan with a sly smile.

“Not necessarily, but yes I am,” he says with a sheepish expression.

“So you have magic power?” I ask breathless.

“You’re reading too much fiction into the term witch,” Raven says with a grin. “Modern day witches don’t have to have any powers at all, though I suppose some do. Lots of witches are potion makers or spell casters, but don’t have any supernatural powers. It’s a recessive trait passed down in families. But really anyone can join a coven.”

“Are you a witch too?”

“No, but I’d like to be,” Raven says. A dark look full of pain flashes in her eyes before she hides it behind a smile. “I was hoping to find a coven here.”

“It looks like you’ve found one,” Mrs. Finley says.

“Really?” Raven asks in a gasped whisper.

“Mmm-hmm. Our next gathering is on All Hallows Eve.” Mrs. Finley turns to eye me with a knowing look. “You’ll be there too, of course.”

“I will?” I ask. Pushing up from the sofa, I cross the room to escape that look in her eyes.

“Now that the bracelet chose you, it’s obvious you’re descended from a line of witches,” Logan says, watching me with what appears like awe. “You’ll want to learn about your ancestry. Right?”

I nod, unable to put my thoughts into coherent words. “About this bracelet…” I hold up my arm, reminding everyone about my new shackle.

“Yes. It responds to dark energy around us,” Mrs. Finley says as she digs through her enormous handbag again. “When dark energy surrounds you, it will help shield you from that power. If my premonition is correct, it will come in handy very soon…”

She trails off into incoherent mumbles while she pulls various articles from her bag and sets them aside. Normal items mix with strange and some things I can’t begin to identify. Does she carry all this around everywhere she goes?

“Ah, here it is,” she says in a triumphant shout. “I’ll need to speak with your father before giving you this.” She dangles a few teabags from her fingers.

“Dad’s out on a date with Dr. Hayes,” Gavin says with a shrug.

“No way!” I say, suddenly glad Daniel went home. Though, I can hear his voice in my head plain as day.

Is Dr. Hayes going to be your new mommy?

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Mrs. Finley says, pulling out her cell. “I can talk to them both at once.”