Altered Souls (12 page)

“I hope to make this outing as uneventful as possible,” I smiled, feeling a little sheepish for the previous night’s outburst.

He tossed a couple coins in the parking
meter
and into Starbucks we went. Logan
lined
up
at
the counter to order our drinks, and I wandered off to the community board, noticing all of the fun festivals, paddle boarding lessons, and local plays that were posted
. T
hen my eyes landed on the flyer.

My heart began racing
.
I knew it was him. It was my father staring at me. Did he place this for me to see? Does he know we’re here? The flyer was bright yellow with the words ‘The P
raedivinus
Order’
above
tiny fringes allowing people to tear off the phone number. And many were already missing.

Logan came up behind me with our drinks, but I was frozen. He followed my gaze to the invitation.

“He knows,” Logan whispered.

I turned to face
him
and saw disgust in his eyes — a darkness like never before.

“I don’t care that he’s my father. I want to destroy him.”

“He’s trying to plant hat
red
in you and it’s working. Don’t let it.”

I took the cup from Logan, and we walked out of the coffee shop in a daze.

“Why would he want me to hate him though? Think we should still go to Saranac Lake?”

He nodded and pointed to one of the empty benches where we both took a seat.

“Hate is hate. It’s a powerful tool. It doesn’t matter what you initially hate because in time it will grow to include other things,” Logan was staring across the street. He became silent, stirring with something that worried me. The darkness seemed to be slowly reappearing. I wondered if it had to do with his
own
father
’s death
.

“What’s going on?” I asked unable to wait any longer. I needed to know what had suddenly changed inside of him.

“Last night, I thought about what you said and looked some stuff up. You’re right about your father’s family being in Salem and playing a part in the hysteria.” Something was really bothering him, and it was more than that flyer.

I reached for his hand, and sat closer.

“And?” I asked.

“I think they started it, actually.”

I looked at him puzzled.

“In Salem?”

“Even before
.
When I started tracing your father’s ancestors, the coincidences were far too great to ignore. Looking at all of those pages you managed to scan from the library allowed me to see things we’d usually ignore.”

“Like?”

“There seemed to be a glaring coincidence over the years...everywhere his family was, Witch Hunts soon followed, possibly as far back as 1581 in Europe.”

“If they’re witches why would they want to start problems for their own community?”

“Possibly to distract from what they were really up to? Or maybe it was a way of eliminating the competition?” He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“I remember seeing maps and dates going back that far, but it never occurred to me to look for that connection.”

“There’s no way either of us would have guessed it by just looking at the books. I’m not sure what drove me to find the pattern, but —”

“Maybe we do have help after all,” I suggested.

“Yeah, maybe so.”

“Well, we’ve got two options. Your mom or my aunt, and I’m guessing it’s not the latter.”

“Probably a good assumption.”

“If it is your mom
,
that means they haven’t turned her yet,” I replied. “She’s still herself.”

“All we can do is hope.” He dropped his gaze to the sidewalk. “If your father’s trying to incite something we need to be careful.”

“I haven’t stopped being careful. I feel as if my entire life is built around me looking behind my back. I’m beginning to pride myself on my different levels of paranoia, real and otherwise.” I smiled, craning my neck to catch his gaze.

“I know. It’s just that I need you to understand that I will
always
have your best interest at heart. No matter what decision I’m faced with, it will be to protect you.” Logan’s eyes darkened as he spoke.

“Riiight?” I asked confused.

He bit his lip and his body shifted away from me slightly.

“I feel the same way,” I began.

“But you shouldn’t. That’s the problem. You need to worry about protecting yourself. You need to think about the bigger picture, especially if everything we’re finding out is true.”

“That’s ridiculous. My life isn’t worth any
more than anyone else’s, especially yours, and we don’t even know what the bigger picture is yet,” I protested.

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” his voice softened.

“I love you. How can I not want to protect you? I want you safe.”

He took a sip of his coffee and put the drink down on the bench.

“I’m worried you’re going to let this whole Trevor thing distract you from the real issues,” he began.

“That is a real issue. As real as any of them,” I whispered.

“Yes and no. If there’s nothing we can do to stop it, then it’s a distraction and your father gets away with whatever it is that he has planned.”

“It’s not a distraction because I have a plan. Several of them. And one of them
will
work eventually. Getting my mom and your mom back is the most important thing. I understand that, but I’m not going to allow my destiny to be tweaked by some ridiculous turn of events,” I couldn’t hide my anger. “You of all people should understand that. I
will
get what I want.”

He sighed, “Just remember that I will do what I have to do to ensure your safety.”

I stared at him for a moment before I spoke.

“Right back at ya.”

Logan sighed and brought me close to him. Hopefully the quality he found endearing wouldn’t eventually drive him away.

A scream broke our embrace, and I turned my head to watch a scene of terror unfold.

A crowd gathered at the base of the church where only the night before Logan and I had been. Many were pointing toward the steeple, but there was another group of people as well and they were calmer.

“What is going on?” I whispered.

He shook his head as it became apparent we couldn’t see whatever it was everyone was pointing at.

We moved down the sidewalk a few feet to see a woman wrapped around the very tip of the steeple. She was using her free arm to flap in the wind. This was the same woman as the night before. She wasn’t drunk. She was possessed.

“Oh, no,” I whispered to Logan.

He wrapped his arm around my waist as we both stood helpless. This had my father written all over it.

“Check that out.” I pointed at one of the spectators who had a bright yellow flyer sticking out his back pocket. He was one of the instigators cheering this poor woman on — exactly like last night when she was on the Land Rover.

“I will see the light,” she hollered before letting go of the steeple. Her body fell to the ground with a thud.

Chapter 13

“Have you ever seen evil like this?” I asked.

“Only when your father’s involved.” Logan grabbed my hand and pulled me across the street to where the very distinct crowds congregated. The EMTs had already taken the woman away, but the horror her act left behind was still in the air.

“Hey!” Logan yelled, coming up behind the guy with the bright yellow evidence of my father sticking out his pocket.

Logan let go of my hand and pushed the guy to get his attention.

“What’s up, man?” The guy asked, spinning around. I was stunned to see how young he was, probably our age. From where we had been standing he looked much older. He was dressed in a striped polo and jeans. It looked like he was in someone else’s clothes because his haircut looked anything but conservative. His straw-colored hair stood in the form of a mini-mohawk, and he had several rings weaving through his ear. He was pretty spindly, but I’m sure that was on purpose.

“Interested in what you’ve got going on,” Logan spoke very quietly.

“How so?” The stranger replied coolly.

“I think you know,” Logan snarled as his fist landed deep into the guy’s gut.

A gust of air escaped before he doubled over from Logan’s fury.

Logan grabbed him and propped him up
, making it look like the guy was ill from the scene in front of us
.
Not like he just got punched in the stomach.
The crowd was so blind from what happened earlier to the woman they didn’t even seem to notice this little spectacle. It was amazing how very unobservant the general public
could
be.

“Can you bring the car right over there?” Logan asked, pointing to the street below.

I nodded, but I didn’t want to miss a thing. Watching Logan in action did something to me I didn’t expect. It was like a magnet pulling me to him. Seeing his grave expression mix with his apparent strength was hard not to admire, but I closed my eyes and nodded not wanting to slow down whatever Logan had planned — if he even had a plan.

I walked quickly to the car and pulled it around. Logan had such a strong grip on the guy that he didn’t dare move in any direction but the one Logan intended.

Logan opened the car door and shoved the guy in the backseat and then plopped himself in the front.

“It wasn’t my fault,” the guy groaned, still in agony from Logan’s
punch
.

“Where to?” I asked, completely perplexed.

Logan turned around to face our kidnap victim and raised his eyebrows. “You’ll tell us where we need to go, or I’ll have to force it out of you.”

The guy nodded.

“What’s your name?” I asked, turning out to the main road.

“Preston.”

“How long have you been involved?” I questioned him.

“What’s it to you?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, “Don’t disrespect her.”

An internal smile radiated deep within my soul. I liked this support. There was no denying it.

Preston moved slowly in the seat, grasping at his stomach, grimacing.

“A few weeks,” he replied. “Take a left up ahead.”

I nodded, following his direction and wonder
e
d how much he might actually know.

“What got you involved with the activities?” Logan asked, his voice a little softer than before.

“They’re trying to do really good things at the camp. Working on fears that we have or whatever we feel is
keeping
us
down
,” Preston responded.

“Did that woman have a fear of flying?” I asked perturbed.

He nodded, “That and heights.”

“So now she’s dead or close to it. How’s that helpful?” I asked, unable to hide my anger.

Preston didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t take his eyes off of him. The mountain road we drove on seemed to go on forever. With every turn of the road, the homes were less visible and the wilderness more present. It wasn’t a place I wanted to break down.

“What are
you
trying to work on, Preston?” I asked.

“Acceptance.” His voice sounded desperate.

“You want to be accepted or you want to be able to accept others?” Logan turned in his seat so he could get a better view of Preston.

“I want to be accepted,” he mumbled.

“Who’s teaching everything?” I asked.

“His name is Nicholas
Stephen
. We only meet with him one on one in the beginning, but then we’re divided into groups he thinks will work out best based on our particular needs.”

It was hard not to pull over the car and shake this kid. How could he not see what this really was?

“Do you stay on the property?” Logan asked, glancing at me quickly.

Preston nodded, “Mostly. It’s a pretty incredible experience. You might want to try it. With your anger issues and all.”

Logan
’s
lips tightened, and I did my best not to drive us off the road as I hid my laughter. If only he knew.

“Yeah, we’re thinking about it,” I replied.

“The meeting sessions along with the supplements he provides makes things much clearer,” Preston continued.

“Supplements?” Logan and I asked in unison.

“Many kinds, depending on our issues. All of us receive the Boletus mixture. It’s like a shake and taste
s great
.
Kind of earthy.
”

“Sounds delightful.” I rolled my eyes for only Logan to see.

“Up ahead is a clearing. This is where the Great Camp starts. Isn’t it gorgeous?” he asked.

I pulled the car off the road.

“How do you get there? There’s no road?”

“Not to get to the house. You have to take one of the canoes that are always left right up there.” He pointed ahead and began shifting uncomfortably in the seat.

“You’ve been quite helpful,” I said. “ We both hope you find what you’re looking for. But it comes from inside, Preston. No one can provide that except you. I
only
hope you figure that out before it’s too late.”

Logan shook his head as if to tell me it was already too late to save him.

“Does this Nicholas have a partner of some sort?”

“There’s a woman who accompanies him to
lots of
things, but she doesn’t provide guidance or anything. Someone told me that Nicholas considers her a hard case
. Yet
to completely see the light he allows her to accompany him to most everything so she can see for herself the good he can produce.”

“I see,” I murmured, nodding my head.

“I hope you two find what you’re hoping to, Preston replied. “My guess is that it’s inside the camp. You’d be surprised how at peace you can become.”

The rage was building inside of me, and I closed my eyes not allowing my heart to
h
ear anymore.
Listening to
what this guy had to say was frightening, but it allowed me
to
glimpse how my father was handling things. I needed to know more, and there was only one way to find out. I pushed that thought aside as Logan’s voice brought me back to reality.

“You can get out now,” Logan
said
to Preston.

We both heard a grunt as he got out of the car.

“You did a number on him,” I whispered.

Logan smiled as we both watched him trundle off in the direction of the lake. I turned the car around and got back on the road.

“What do you make of it?” I asked, rolling down the window for some fresh air. The car felt very constricting as I tried to process everything Preston had told us.

“I think your father’s feeding them something pretty awful,” he replied.

“Mentally or physically?” I asked.

“Both,” he replied grimly.

“Do you smell that?” I asked, rolling the windows back up.

“Yeah, I do. Pull over,” Logan pointed to a turnoff up ahead.

We got out of the car, and I realized I smelled something
earthy
.

“Mushrooms,” I replied.

Logan let out a sigh.

“That’s what my father’s using. That poor woman
on the steeple
was probably on some hallucinogenic mushroom.”

“They probably all are… of some sort or another. He must be growing them around here. I really think —”

“Mushrooms like that are
nearly
impossible to propagate.”

“Not happening,” Logan interrupted, getting back in the car.

Following his lead, I climbed in the driver’s seat to take us back to our place.

“I think it’s the only way,” I attempted again.

He shook his head, but I knew I would do what I needed to whether I had his approval or not.

Many minutes of silence passed between us. I glanced quickly at him and his face was
de
void of expression.

“I’m worried that you’re going to grow to hate me,” I announced, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.

“Where did that come from?” he questioned, turning to face me.

I took a deep breath in.

“If it’s true my father kill—”

“Triss, you’ve got to quit acting like everything is your fault or that you have any control over others’ actions. If your father was responsible for my father’s death, it has nothing to do with you. I don’t understand why you’d even go there.”

“I don’t want to be a constant reminder of everything bad that’s happened to you,” I whispered. “I’ve seen your expression change over the last couple of days, since I told you about what I saw.”

“You don’t think it could be for a variety of other reasons?” he questioned. “It’s not like the last few days have been all that pleasant. We’re dealing with a very evil man and every day we find out even more than the previous day. Am I angry about my father’s death? Beyond. Do I hope for payback? Absolutely.”

“I feel like your change
happened after
I told you. I mean I’d understand completely. What are you thinking?”

He sighed. “I know you’ve decided to do something that I can’t stop. I don’t want you to
explore
that side of things — ever. Justified or not. The one thing that is protecti
ng
for you from the creatures your father sends is the one boundary I
’m afraid
you want to cross.”

“Somebody’s got to stop him,” I murmured.

“It doesn’t need to be you.”

We had printed all of the pages I had managed to scan from my famil
y
’
s
spell books and spread them over every surface in the house.

“How did my mom ever get hooked up with my dad? She’s the exact opposite of him. Her entire family fought against this kind of evil. And why would Aunt Vieta just get up and turn? It doesn’t make sense.

“Check this out. I’ve barely scratched the surface, but here are some of the connections I’ve been able to make between my father’s family and witch hunts beginning in Europe
.
” I said finishing up my last one. “Not surprisingly, when they
moved
to America so did the hunting.”

He came over from the dining table he’d been canvasing.

“Check it out.” I shoved the notebook in front of Logan with my list.

1587 – Germany (Trier peak)

1590 – Scotland (North Berwick)

1603 -1606 Germany (Fulda)

1626 – 1631 Germany (Würzburg  and Bamberg Witch Trials)

1648 –NH (Portsmouth)

1656-1680 NH (Hampton)

“W
h
o
a
,” Logan looked up with a mixture of reverence and dread. “These are different than the ones I put together.”

“That’s not comforting,” I sighed, feeling a pounding headache at the base of my
skull
waiting for its moment to take over completely. Do we have any coffee?”

Massaging my neck, I contemplated what this really told us
beyond
the obvious. What had my father’s family been trying to incite for hundreds of years? Trying to steal property from other
witche
s? Creat
ing
distrust in
witch
communities? What was it exactly that they
hoped
to achieve?

“I’ll grab some. You okay?” he asked. “It’s a lot to take in.”