She desperately wanted to return to her own time. She spent many sleepless nights wondering how her sons were and whether their father was dead. She began to think that there might be a way for her to use her borrowed magic against Michael. Maybe she could set up some sort of feedback loop that would destroy him, or at the very least render him powerless.

  More pressing than that question, though, was the one regarding how she could make it home.

  Time travel was not a skill possessed by ordinary witches and warlocks, although she had heard vague rumors that a handful had mastered it. A piece of a manuscript she had found in a monastery had led her to think that a combination of magic and science could get her home. She had even discovered a man who might be able to help her. Unfortunately, he was dead.

  So she had traveled to India looking for something that the Persian scientist and scholar AbBhave left there almost two hundred years earlier. The trip was dangerous, but not half so much as staying in the Deveraux-Cahors war zone.

  The area she was searching was under Hindu rule and in her own time was known as Bombay, or the more contemporary Mumbai. The fragment of text she had found had said that just as the phases of the moon could be charted, so could they be changed. Since it was unlikely that the scientist had believed man capable of affecting the moon in such a way, she thought it could mean that man could affect time.

  She had about convinced herself she was crazy, when another line of the text had stated that by so doing a man could walk with his ancestors and see beyond his years.

  Now, as she stood in a large field outside of the village, she wondered if she was crazy or if AbBbeen, or both. She had known his name before finding it on the piece of parchment. She had studied him in college, and later as a witch had been fascinated by his illustration for the different phases of the moon.

  The text had led her to the field near the village, but it had given no more specific insight for finding the object that he had said he'd buried.

  "From unseen to seen from earth to sky, give me the eyes to seek what he did hide." A small patch of earth off to her right suddenly zoomed into focus. She dropped to her knees and began to dig, and an hour later she struck something metal. The object glinted dully as she brushed the earth from it and gently pulled it free from its resting place.

  It was a crude circle around which the moon appeared in its various phases. She touched one with her finger and they all began spinning slowly counterclockwise. She felt a crackle of magic along her skin… and then… it was morning.

  She blinked, not entirely sure what had happened. For a moment she wondered if she had fallen asleep, but then she glanced around her and realized that the earth looked exactly as it had earlier that day before she had dug the object up.

  She stepped to the side and then spun the moons counterclockwise with more force. Around her the world seemed to change. There were flashes of light and dark that were almost like a strobe light. Each time the light appeared, she saw something different. The place where she had recovered the device was overgrown with flowers. Around her, trees were shrinking in size and number.

  And then something prompted her to reach out and stop the spinning of the miniature moons.

  Everything slowed for a moment, and then sitting beside her was a man. Sasha jumped, startled, but he looked at her with kindly eyes that sparkled with humor.

  "I have been waiting for you," he said in Latin."Are you Ab?‖ she asked He inclined his head. "I am."

  She showed him the device. "Did you create this?"

  "No. It was given to me by a very old and wise man. I was told to hold it and keep it safe for a great lady."

  "Who?" she asked, still trying to get her bearings.

  "I can only assume he meant you."

  "How does it work?" she asked.

  "I have spent many years studying it, and I do not know. However, I do know that if you hold your purpose in your mind, it will help you know when to stop the moons from spinning."

  "That must be how I found you," she said. "But what if I want to go forward in time?"

  "Then you must spin the moons the other way. The science or magic or whatever it is that controls it is beyond my comprehension. Fortunately, it is not so much of a mystery as to how to make it work."

  "Who is the man who gave it to you?" Sasha asked.

  "He refused to tell me his name. I know only that he was a religious man, a follower of Zoroaster. He also told me that even though you can change your moons, you must act quickly if you are to save them."

  "Save who?" Sasha asked, heart in her throat.

  "Again, he did not say. He was a man of very few words."

  "Thank you."

  "You are welcome." He stood.

  "Now that I have fulfilled my promise to him, I will return home. I believe you will wish to do the same. Go with Allah."

  She rose and bowed to him. She watched him walk away, and then turned her attention back to the object she held. She was ready to go home. She took a deep breath and spun the planets clockwise.

  Around her the world changed, and a city replaced the village. Then, suddenly, she was underwater, but whatever magic or science was working the object kept her safe and dry in a protective bubble.

  With a gasp she stopped the moons. There in the water above her was her son, Eli, and the witch, Philippe. They were struggling together but a moment later separated. Each tried to swim toward the surface, but it was as though they could not. They were drowning.

  London: Kari, Hecate, and Osiris

  Somehow, everyone treated her more nicely if they thought she was deaf. Or maybe Hecate was working her magic. Kari got upgraded to first class on her flight from Seattle to Heathrow Airport in London. At Heathrow she was reunited with her "parcel," and was amazed to discover that the baggage handlers hadn't bothered to open it. After trundling it on a baggage trolley to a dark corner with Hecate riding in her carrying case, Kari found Osiris calm and awake. She wondered what dead cats dreamed of.

  It was a simple thing to rent her car, which was a white Vauxhall Corsa, and put her meager overnight bag, carrying toiletries and her two other changes of clothes, into the trunk--the boot--

  and let the two cats roam inside the car as they pleased. Both of them settled on the seat beside her. Hecate stared hard at her as they pulled out of the rental lot.

  I will guide you. It will take at least six hours.

  "Tired," Kari protested.

  Inner Ring East.

  Kari sighed and started on her way, just as the skies opened up and rain began to pour down in buckets. She felt a frisson--would floods and fires follow her too?

  I want out of all of it. Out, Kari thought.

  Berlin: Jer and Eve

  Jer groaned in his sleep, waking Eve. She flipped onto her side to look at him. They were in a small bed-and-breakfast in Berlin that they had found just before nightfall. She wondered what he dreamed about. She also wondered how much longer she could keep up the charade. A dozen times already she had nearly told him the truth.

  They needed to find Eli. The Supreme Coven was willing to welcome the Deveraux with open arms. When the day came that Eli and Jer returned and took their place at the head of the organization, everything would change.

  She had served a very long time as Sir William's attack dog. She didn't mind killing, but even she was growing tired of the constant battle for survival. She had always known that sooner or later Sir William would turn on her, just as he did with all his other pets. Now that he was gone, though, there was a chance for change. That was, of course, if he was really gone.

  She had her doubts about that. The body might be dead, but she was certain Sir William had found a way to cheat death. Where was he, though? Why was he silent and waiting, especially with Michael Deveraux and his own son, James, dead? Plots within plots within plots. Warlock politics were harder to follow than that of the mundane world.

  It was entirely possible that the offer to give the Skull Throne. To Jer was just another one of those plots, but if it was, she couldn't see the puppet master at work behind the scenes.

  "Holly," Jer murmured. Eve rolled her eyes. He was dreaming about the Cathers witch. Romeo and Juliet had nothing on them as far as star-crossed lovers go, she thought. She got up and slipped outside, reveling in the brisk night air. The Goddess might rule the nighttime, but Eve was one warlock who didn't fear either night or day.

  "Is there a reason you keep following me?" Jer complained, staring moodily at Eve.

  "Sorry. Not so much following as traveling with you," she said, in clipped tones."Why?"

  "Because, in theory at least, you're searching for your brother. I figure the best way to find him is to stay close to you."

  "So you can what, offer him the Skull Throne instead of me? Supreme Coven doesn't care who leads as long as it's a Deveraux?"

  She averted her eyes from his. "That's not entirely true," she said.

  He watched her carefully. She was powerful, sexy, everything you would want in a warlock. The attraction was there, he couldn't deny it, but there was something else, some sort of connection that went beyond physical. He wondered what it would be like to work magic with her. His instinct told him it would be wild, uncontrolled magic. And there was enough of the warlock in him still to be tempted.

  He sighed and turned away. In a strange way Eve had been helping him. Since she cared nothing about his scars, he had been slowly forgetting--at least when it was just the two of them--how deformed he was. If only it could have been that way with Holly.

  Not that she cared about the scars.

  Perhaps the most devastating lesson of his life was one that he was becoming more painfully aware of every day. He had made a mistake. He never should have left Holly. She loved him and had been willing to be in thrall to him. His own pride and fear and selfishness had gotten in the way. It might have been their one chance at salvation. Now he feared it was too late for him. He was almost certain that if she was still alive it was too late for her.

  He had left England to get away from the temptation that the Skull Throne provided. He was arrogant enough to believe that if he was in charge he could actually make a difference. He was realist enough to realize that the throne would change him and not the other way around. He had fled to Germany not so much to look for Eli as to put more distance between him and London.

  They had been in the city two days, and he was making the rounds of the tourist sites. Nothing better to do. Not like Jer Deveraux ever saved anyone. He stood now where the Berlin Wall had once stood, dividing West and East. Good and evil. Witch and warlock. Unfortunately, nothing was ever quite that simple. How many years had he spent trying to straddle that fence?

  "One day you're going to have to choose, you know," Eve said quietly."Choose what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

  "Who you are, who you really want to be."

  "My destiny was chosen for me. Deveraux by name, scarred by fire, cursed by all the gods."

  Eve slapped him so hard across the face that it spun him partly around. The hood of his sweatshirt fell back, exposing his face to the light. He waited for the gasps of people around as they saw his ruined flesh, but none came. Suddenly, though, a little girl was standing in front of him. She held out her teddy bear to him. Bewildered, he took it from her.

  "The bad men hurt my daddy real bad too," she said. Her wide blue eyes were trusting, loving.

  She patted his hand and then turned and walked away, leaving her teddy bear with him. He stared down into the lifeless black eyes and realized that he had never felt so lost.

  "You want to know what I see?" Eve said. "I see a coward. I see a good man with great power and unlimited potential who has always enjoyed playing helpless. You've shirked all your responsibilities to yourself and others, whined about how bad your life is, and failed in every task you've ever set for yourself, not because you weren't up to the challenge but because you can't stop pitying yourself for five seconds."

  "What are you saying?" he asked."I'm saying get over yourself. A lot of people have had tougher lives than you'll ever know. So you had a father you didn't like. So you were terribly scarred in battle. So you lost the love of your life because you were too damn selfish to let anyone in. Boo frickin' hoo. You want to make the world a better place? Hell, you want to make your own wretched life better? Tell you what, when you decide to man up, you know where to find me."

  She turned and stalked away, and once again Jer was alone… on the fence… holding a teddy bear.

  Outside Mumbai: Holly, Alex, Pablo, Armand, and the Temple of the Air Holly smiled appreciatively as Alex said "Incendio" and a fire blazed into being. She and he had created a beautiful bower inside a cave, conjuring silken pillows and mosaic lamps, and low carved tables inlaid with abalone. Alex had located a small outpost of Supreme Covenates about three miles to their west, and they would attack before dawn. For now they needed to eat, rest, and thaw out.

  "I never thought I'd wind up hunting warlocks in India," Alex said, rippling his socked feet close to the bright orange flames.

  "Life is full of surprises," Holly replied faintly."Amen," Armand said, crossing himself. He seemed troubled, and Pablo, too. Yet each time she'd asked him if something was wrong, he'd hesitated and said no.

  Doesn't he trust me? she wondered.

  "Let's eat," Alex said, unpacking the cheeses, bread, and other delicacies they had loaded up on in the last village. "I think this is some kind of local moonshine or something." He pulled out a leather bag and pulled off the stopper with his teeth. "What shall we drink to? Death to the enemy?"

  "To life," Armand said. This time Pablo crossed himself as well."All right." Alex placed the bag against his lips and tipped it back. He grimaced as he swallowed. "That is sour."

  He handed the bag to Holly, and his grimace faded as he gazed at her. The light played over his craggy features. "To life," he said softly.

  Holly took a taste. It was actually very sweet."The powers of darkness are marshaling their forces," Armand said darkly as he stared into the heart of the fire.

  He was right. They all knew it, and Holly had caught herself looking over her shoulder almost constantly. She had the feeling that something big was happening, that there was a larger picture and somehow she had only been given a few small jigsaw pieces.

  How am I supposed to know what to do with them? she fretted. The Goddess had been silent lately, and Holly wasn't sure if that denoted approval, disapproval, or indifference. Given the sacrifices the Goddess had already asked of her, indifference might not be so bad. At least Holly knew where she stood with herself. And even though they did not discuss things with one another openly, she was pretty sure she knew where she stood with Armand and Pablo, too.

  Alex stretched out lazily beside her, like a cat sunning himself. She frowned. She knew where she stood with him. The time was coming when his patience would run out and he would push for them to be in thrall to each other.

  The thought terrified Holly. The last time she had been in thrall, it had been while she was possessed and her archenemy Michael Deveraux had taken advantage. To the best of her knowledge it had been a spiritual union only. With Alex it would not be that way. He would demand a complete union, body and soul. Holly had hoped for so long that when she finally gave herself to a man, it would be to Jer. He had shut that door, though, not her. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his lips on hers. Even as the memories stirred, she could feel another's thoughts, her long dead ancestress Isabeau who burned for her husband, Jean, also moving in her thoughts.

  "Où? Où est-tu?"

  Where are you?

  Mon ?

  My soul?

  SEVEN

  ANISE

  Deveraux hearts are always cold

  Despite whatever lies we've told

  But something's changing deep inside

  Even our wickedness can't hide

  Trapped we are by all our years

  While fire burns and fire sears

  At the end, sacrifice is all we know

  But it only makes the darkness grow

  Scarborough: Nicole, Amanda, Richard, Tommy, and Owen

  "No," Nicole said brokenly, as she rose from Amanda's bed and began to pace. She went to the window and gazed out at her little son, wrapped in a soft blanket cradled against his grandfather's powerful chest. Tommy walked beside Richard, and the two were talking earnestly. They kept glancing back at House Moore, almost as if they knew she and Amanda spoke of matters regarding life and death.

  Owen's death. Her child, her baby… Her heart wouldn't stop racing. She wasn't sure her feet were: touching the floor.

  "It's a book of prophecies," Amanda said gently but firmly, gesturing to the ancient manuscript.

  "Merlin's prophecies. And many of them have come true."

  She had fought the voice, and won. It was a secret no longer, despite the pain it was causing.

  They had to face it.

  Had to deal with it.

  Had to decide what to do.

  Tears streamed down Nicole's face. "No, you're wrong. Merlin is a mythical person. It's a trick.

  It's not real."

  "Niki, I'm so sorry," Amanda said. "But…" She trailed off, as if she couldn't bear to continue.

  "But, Amanda, it's Owen." Her face crumpled and she began to let go, to give in to her fear. If she broke down, Amanda would have to pull her together, and maybe it would distract her twin long enough for her to… to what?

  No. She had to keep her wits about her. Owen was counting on her.

  "It's Owen," she managed. Everything inside her was clenched and terrified--bones, blood, soul.

  "I know." Amanda hung her head and began to cry.

  "You said yourself the house is evil. That's an evil book." Nicole could barely get the words out.

  The knot in her throat was choking her. She wanted to take the book and throw it out the window, burn it in the fireplace.

  "It's the Book of Merlin, one of the greatest wizards who ever lived," Amanda replied. She got to her feet and walked to Nicole. "That night, I heard singing. It was Owen, Niki. It was."

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26