Blood of the Sorceress (17 page)

“I don’t think she tricked me in that past lifetime,” Demetrius said softly. “I think I truly loved her.”

The priest turned slowly. Truly, his health was improving by leaps and bounds. Daily, he looked more robust. His cheeks were plumping, growing pinker, and his body had taken on an ever-thickening layer of fat that didn’t seem possible in a few days’ time.

“Of course you loved her, fool. You were under her spell.”

“What if I wasn’t? What if it was real?”

The old priest rolled his eyes and faced the window again. Demetrius paced forward, searching for words to explain what he was feeling to the man who had somehow become his confessor and confidant. As he passed the telescope, he paused to peer down through the eyepiece, and then he jerked back, surprised. It was aimed not at the sky but much closer, on some of the red rocks in the distance. In fact... Demetrius adjusted the focus.

Bell Rock. Clear as day. Father Dom had been watching him and Lilia this morning.

“Perhaps if you could read the journal for yourself, you would believe me,” Father Dom was saying in the background. “But since you can’t read any of the ancient Babylonian dialects—”

The old man turned, and Demetrius sidestepped away from the telescope, starting forward toward the windows as if he’d never paused. He wasn’t sure why he tried to hide what he’d seen, but he felt it was somehow important to keep his discovery a secret. “No,” he said. “I can’t. I’ll just have to trust you to translate for me.”

“That’s what I have been doing. But apparently the succulent flesh of a witch holds more sway with you than any wisdom I have to share.”

Demetrius shook his head and noticed a bundle of fabric in the corner, near Father Dom’s cot. Purple and red. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward it.

“Linens,” the priest snapped. “I like color in my bed sheets, so I went shopping today.”

“How did you—”

“I slipped out the gate while your friends were busy elsewhere. Soon enough a passerby stopped to offer me a ride. When you wear the collar of a priest, people are eager to help you, I’ve discovered.”

At the mention of his wardrobe, Demetrius noticed that Father Dom now wore a pair of lightweight off-white trousers and a button-down shirt, white and completely covered in purple cactus blossoms. A chain dangled from around his neck, and it wasn’t a crucifix at the end but some sort of serpent-shaped dragon.

Something flashed bright and painful in his head, but too brief to make sense.

“Did you pick that up today, too?” Demetrius asked, indicating the pendant.

Father Dom smiled. “A gift from an old friend,” he said, lifting the thing for a loving look before dropping it beneath the shirt he wore. “I had to wear it at least once.”

“And you’ve given up your cleric’s clothes, despite how helpful people are when you wear them?”

“I’m growing fat under your hospitality, Demetrius,” the priest said with a pat to his belly, which really was beginning to protrude. “They no longer fit, and it’s not as if I can go find a new set at the local Kmart, now is it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Tell me. What has you doubting, my son?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s the witch. I know it’s her.”

“I don’t think so.” Demetrius studied the old man’s eyes. “I’ve recalled some things. You told me that she and her sisters got away and left me to my fate. But that’s not what I remembered.”

“No?” Father Dom moved to his cot and sat down. “Tell me what you
did
remember.”

Demetrius nodded. “It was an...execution. She and her sisters were thrown from a cliff while I was forced to watch.”

“I see.” Dom took a deep breath, rubbing his chin with one hand as he seemed to think. “Tell me, did she touch you before you had this...memory? Did she take your hand, anything like that?”

“Yes. Yes, she did.”

“Amazing to me, the extent of her power. That she could create a false memory in you just by taking hold of your hand...” Dom shook his head slowly. “Oh, she’s good. She’s very, very good. And far more dangerous than even I realized. I think you should send her away. And soon. Before Beltane, certainly. She’ll experience a boost in her powers then. All witches do. It’s a powerful time, and if she realizes that it’s also her final chance to make you surrender your power to her, then God only knows what she might do.”

Demetrius nodded slowly. “But what about the binding spell?” he asked, even though he had no intention of sending Lilia anywhere, even if he could. Not until he was sure which of his two houseguests was lying.

“Ahh, the binding. I’ll study on that overnight. I might be able to come up with a way to break the spell, my son. In the morning, all right?”

“All right. Thank you, Father Dom.”

“You’re welcome, my son.”

Demetrius left the man, heading back down to his own quarters. Something was niggling at him, something that felt urgent, and yet he couldn’t quite get a handle on what it was.

He needed privacy. Privacy and his magical tools. The dagger and the chalice. Maybe he could figure out a way to use them to find the truth.

* * *

Lilia’s cell phone showed five missed calls when she thought to turn it back on that afternoon, along with several voice mails, all from her sisters. She was lounging poolside with Gus and Sid, relishing the relative solitude. She hadn’t yet ventured into the water, but she intended to. She even had a bathing suit in her room and had been thinking about changing into it.

But first she decided to call her sisters back, so she dialed Lena, who had been the first to leave a message, then lay back in her chaise.

Magdalena answered on the first ring. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you all day!”

“With Demetrius,” Lilia said softly. “We hiked up Bell Rock, meditated together in the midst of all that vortex energy. I think he’s starting to remember. I think he’s starting to...to become himself again, even without the missing piece of his soul. It’s only a matter of time before he asks for it.”

“Yeah, well, while you’ve been playing tourist, I’ve been scrying, and, sis, the source of that evil you’ve been sensing is still there in that house with you.”

“In the house? Are you sure?”

“It’s bad. And it’s there. I printed up satellite photos of the entire area, and the only place I’m getting a positive response—a violent one—is the house itself.”

Lilia sat up straight and looked at Gus, who was sitting in his bright blue bathing trunks with his swirls of gray chest hair protecting him from the sun, grinning like a loon and sipping a beer. Then at Sid, who, though poolside, was apparently still on duty. He wore cargo shorts, a white T-shirt and a baseball hat that failed to contain his red curls, and had a laptop open beneath an umbrella-shaded table, clicking away.

“We’ve sent everyone away. Even the staff took the day off after breakfast, at my request, so I could pinpoint the source of the evil I’ve been sensing.”

“Leaving who?” Lena asked.

“Sid, who sort of came with the place. He’s the limo driver. But it’s not him. I’d know if it was him. And Gus.”

“The homeless guy who’s become Demetrius’s BFF?” Lena said.

“Right. And it’s not him, either. Which only leaves me and Demetrius.”

“Well then maybe—”

“He’s not evil. I’m telling you, he’s the victim in all this.”

“Forgive me if I still have a little trouble swallowing that after his brain-dead zombies tried to have me killed while giving birth.”

“Forgiven,” Lilia said, choosing to ignore the sarcasm.

“Scry, sister. Get your freaking pendulum out or get Demetrius to loan you the chalice, and scry that house like a ghost buster. Find the source.” Lena softened her tone as she went on. “I’m scared for you, little sister.”

“You don’t have to be. I think it’s going very well. But yes, I’ll figure out who it is. I’ll keep you posted, okay?”

“All right. Have a good day, then.”

“You, too. Kiss Ellie for me.”

Lilia hung up the phone, saw Sid looking at her with concern from his shaded table. “Everything all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Sid, are you sure there’s no one here but us?”

He lifted his brows. “Not unless someone’s hiding out in the wine cellar.” He grinned, but she didn’t. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll go inside. Maybe I’ve just had too much sun today.”

He nodded, and she got up and headed in, going straight up to her room to grab her scrying crystal, a flawless amethyst point suspended at the end of a silver chain. It had a silver band around its thicker end decorated with a sodalite cabochon like an all-seeing eye, and tiny silver arms extending from either side to form the ring that connected it to the chain. It was a powerful tool. Not as powerful as those Demetrius had, perhaps, but powerful.

After all, magic wasn’t about the tool. It was about the witch who wielded it.

She changed into a long turquoise tie-dyed sundress with crocheted cotton trim and spaghetti-thin straps, and took enough time to center herself and breath her way into alpha state. Then she lifted the pendulum and, holding it before her, walked out of her bedroom and into the hall. “By flesh and blood, by hair and bone, the evil here shall soon be known.”

9

T
he pendulum began quivering as soon as Lilia left her bedroom. She moved left, down the hallway, but very soon saw its motions easing slightly. So she turned around and went back the way she’d come. The little stone seemed to vibrate, as if it was reacting to a musical note high enough to shatter it.

At the head of the stairs she started down. One step, then two, three.

No, it wasn’t downstairs. The stone grew calmer the farther she went. Turning, she frowned. There was only one door on the other side of her own room—the one to the private stairway that led up to the third floor, where Demetrius lived in solitude.

Oh, hell. Was it true? Was he evil? Had it taken too long to free him from the Underworld, so long that he was already on his way to becoming...

“A demon,” she whispered. “Goddess, no. It can’t be.”

Devastation tasted like bitter root in her mouth. But she had to follow through. She had to find the source of the evil, and if it was him...well, if it was him, she might as well go back to the Finger Lakes, go back to the wine country and her sisters, and spend her remaining time with them. Goddess knew there would not be much of it.

She mounted the staircase, moving slowly upward. And there was no question she was getting closer. The pendant continued to vibrate as it began swirling in ever widening circles.

At the top of the stairs she opened the door without bothering to knock first. She heard something, another door closing, and snapped the chain up and caught the pendulum in her palm all in one quick motion. She didn’t need him knowing what she was up to.

There was no one there to catch her scrying, though. The rooms were empty. She checked the bedroom first. His bed lay rumpled and unmade, since the staff had taken the day off. She could feel his energy in the air, but he wasn’t there. Moving all the way through it, she peeked through the open bathroom door, then gasped at the size of the tub, and imagined herself in it with him.

Not if he was too far gone. It would never happen.

Next she checked the kitchenette, with its tiny fridge and granite counters. But no, Demetrius hadn’t even been in there today.

And then she heard something. The sound of voices coming from behind the closed door of the one remaining room. So there was someone else here! She pocketed her pendulum and went slowly to that closed door, tightening her hand around the knob, mentally preparing herself for battle as she pushed it open.

The giant room was dark, except for the moving images on the wall-sized screen at the far end. A movie?

Yes, a movie, and Demetrius was sitting all alone in an oversize lounge chair, staring at the screen, frustration knitting his brow.

The film was a comedy, and the reason for his frown was completely clear to her. He didn’t get it. Her heart ached for him as he stared, obviously trying to figure it out.

Moving softly forward, she put a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up, didn’t start in surprise. It was as if he’d felt her presence. “Gus says this is the funniest movie he’s ever seen. Sid agrees with him. And I just... I don’t...”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder.

He lifted the remote control in his hand and paused the movie. “Is this the same as the view from Bell Rock?” he asked.

She smiled down at him. “Could be. Want to try and see?”

His nod was immediate. “I do. It’s such a petty thing, but...could we?”

“Of course, on two conditions.” She nodded toward the antique popcorn cart in the corner. “Does that thing work?”

“It’s loaded and ready.” He sprang from his seat, hurried to the machine and hit a button to start it up. “What’s your second condition?”

“Start the film over from the beginning?” she asked. “I hate coming in halfway.”

* * *

Demetrius laughed until his sides hurt, sometimes fighting to catch a breath between gusts of hilarity. Sitting beside him, Lilia was laughing, too. She kept slapping his shoulder and clinging to it as if the film was too funny to bear, and he loved every single touch.

And they ate popcorn, hot and buttery and salty, and it was so good.

He found himself wanting to experience more things in this new, enhanced way. He wanted to soak in the bubbling cool-water tub in his private gardens and smell the blossoms there as he felt the jets massaging his muscles.

And sex. He really wanted to have sex and discover what it was supposed to feel like.

By the time they finished the movie their hands were cramped from holding on so long, and yet he hated to let go, because it would return him to that state of not quite being alive. Not quite experiencing what life truly had to offer.

Damn. She might have a point. Endless time just going through the motions? Or a limited time feeling everything to its fullest?

Maybe her offer had merit after all.

As the credits finally scrolled down the screen he said, “I was thinking about a soak in the spa down in my private gardens.” He didn’t want to ask again. It seemed like cheating, feeling things this way but not making the commitment to humanity.

But she didn’t make him ask. She just smiled and said, “I’d love to join you.”

He nodded and led the way.

* * *

Following him, Lilia took the pendulum from her pocket and, pausing for a moment, let it dangle. It was calm.

Relief surged through her. Demetrius wasn’t the source of the evil. But her relief was short lived. Because if it wasn’t him, then who or what could it be?

He turned, caught her holding the long chain with its dangling crystal, and she quickly looped the chain around her neck. The amethyst lay still and cool on her skin.

“Pretty,” he said. Then he led on.

He opened a door at the end of a tiny corridor, a door Lilia had presumed led to a closet. Instead it opened to reveal a curving stairway she’d had no idea was there. Redwood, as if it was meant to be outdoors. And after a few steps down it, she realized that was exactly where it was leading: all the way down to a private garden tucked behind the house.

When they reached it, she blinked to adjust her eyes to the darkness that had descended while they were watching the movie and found she could hardly breathe for the beauty. A natural boundary made of thick vines enclosed it. No one would ever find a clue to its existence from the outside. Inside the small private Eden there were flowers, cacti, red rock walkways and a bubbling kidney-shaped spa that was big enough for half a dozen people. But only two people would be using it now.

Demetrius peeled off his clothes and stepped into the water, ending her view of his nude body entirely too quickly for her liking as he sank down onto a built-in seat. He leaned his head back against the side, closed his eyes and absently stroked the amulet that rested on his broad chest. There were fine lines of strain around his eyes and right between his brows.

“It’s not doing what you want it to?”

His eyes popped open. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to do, and it’s not giving me any answers.”

“What were you
hoping
it would do?”

He frowned as if trying to come up with an answer, which told her he wasn’t intending to tell her the true one. She moved closer, pulling the long edges of her dress up around her hips, and then stepping down into the hot tub.

“Ooh. It’s not hot at all,” she said, surprised.

“No. Makes no sense to have it hot in the desert. It’s more of a cool tub. I was thinking of having a system installed to keep it even cooler.”

“Nice.” She eyed him, tilted her head a little.

His eyes moved up and down her, then met hers. She read the anticipation in them, though he said nothing. So she peeled the dress over her head, then stretched to lay it across the largest of the boulders that had been placed around the tub to make it look like a natural pool. The illusion was a good one. A little waterfall spilled from the stacked-up rocks into the tub. “This is really beautiful,” she said, sinking into the cool water in her pink demi bra and matching panties.

“Is it?”

“Take my hand and I’ll show you.”

He was looking at her, though, as if he’d figured out how to appreciate visual beauty all by himself. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and sat down, then slid along the bench seat to get closer to him, finally slipping her hand inside his.

He emitted a soft, stuttering sigh, and then he hit a button and the jets came on, blasting her almost off the seat. She gave a little yelp and grabbed his arm to hold herself down.

He was smiling now. It was an improvement over the scowl he’d worn before. He hit the button again, turning the jets down a notch. She relaxed, positioning her lower back over one of them and closing her eyes. “This is nice.”

“Yes, it is. I had no idea how nice until now. God, that smell. Do you smell that?”

“It’s the flowers. I wish I knew their names, but I don’t. They’re luscious, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And this private garden is like a paradise.”

“It is,” he said. “No one else knows it’s here. I’ll have to trust you not to tell.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She stayed where she was. “I know what the amulet does, Demetrius.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do. My sister Indy wore it. She kept a piece of your stolen soul safe within it until she returned it to you.”

“How did she get it in the first place? How did any of you—”

Her eyes opened, and she straightened, so excited to hear him actually asking. But she forced herself to relax back. To take it easy. He might still be evil, since she’d seen no one else up there, and her pendulum wouldn’t lie. Maybe he was shifting back and forth between good and evil or something, and that was why the stone hadn’t reacted to him a few minutes ago. She had to remember that it was possible, and not even all that surprising, given what he’d been through these past thirty-five-hundred years.

“My sisters and I—”

“Wait,” he said, looking down at their clasped hands. “I think I should hear this without...” He looked from their hands to her eyes.

She nodded, taking her hand away when he released it. “That’s for the best, in case any painful memories come up in my story.”

He nodded, but she didn’t think that was the true reason why he’d wanted to let go. She didn’t think he trusted her not to cast some kind of spell on him that would make him believe her, and that hurt. She deserved his distrust, she supposed. She had slapped that binding spell on him without warning, after all.

But she shook off her thoughts and began her story, not missing the way he looked at the garden around him with a sad expression. No doubt it was like seeing it through a smoky mirror.

“My sisters and I were slaves in the harem of King Balthazorus of ancient Babylon. And we were witches, Indira, Magdalena and I. I was the King’s favorite, though I didn’t love him. I loved his First. His most highly placed soldier. A man completely forbidden to me. You.”

She glanced up at him to find him rapt. Good.

“And you loved
me,
too. Someone found out and told the high priest. Or maybe it was Sindar’s own constant snooping that uncovered the truth.”

“Sindar,” he whispered.

“That was his name. Evil bastard. I never knew a man quite that purely rancid. He was made of hate, I swear. I still can’t think of a single redeeming quality in him. Jealous, he was always so jealous. He knew our mother was a witch, hated us for that, but she was beyond his reach. She still lived in the outskirts, far from the city itself, and the King was tolerant of the superstitions and ways of the country dwellers. We, however, were closer. Sindar could get to my sisters and me.” She shrugged slightly. “And you. We probably should have been more careful.”

“So we were found out.”

“Mmm.” She nodded. “And then we were caught naked, wrapped up in each other’s arms. You tried to fight them off, but they beat you down and took me away, and my sisters with me. We were arrested, locked up in underground cells in different parts of the city. That’s how afraid Sindar was of us. He must have sensed how powerful we were.” She sat up a little straighter. “Are.”

“Somehow I don’t doubt it,” he muttered.

Lilia met his eyes, reminded herself that this was the here and now. Sindar was long dead. No longer a threat to her or those she loved. “Sindar declared that my sisters and I would be sacrificed to the chief god, Marduk. You were arrested, too. When they had you brought before the King and you learned what was to become of us—of me—you broke into a rage. They couldn’t hold you, nor could the shackles in which you were bound. You killed the King, slashed his throat with his own blade, and then killed two of his guards before they subdued you again.”

He was watching her intently. Really hearing her, she thought—and for the first time. Maybe there was hope after all. “Sindar was furious. We had always suspected his affection for the King went well beyond friendship. He loved the man. Maybe that counts as his single redeeming quality. He loved Balthazorus, and in truth, the King was a good man.”

“A good man wouldn’t have sentenced you to death.”

“Even a good man has bad moments, Demetrius.”

“I guess I’m the last person who could argue with that.”

“He’d been betrayed by a woman he trusted and thought of as his own. And he was very heavily influenced by Sindar, who was, after all, his most trusted advisor as well as his conduit to the Gods.”

Demetrius nodded slowly.

“Sindar was enraged at the death of his love. Maybe that’s why he decided to murder yours. He visited me in my cell that night, telling me what would become of you. That he would strip you of your soul, using the blackest of magics.” She closed her eyes against the pain of memory. “That he would imprison what remained of your spirit in the Underworld, there to remain for all time.”

He was staring at her when she opened her eyes, and she slid closer, one hand cupping his cheek. “But my sisters and I made a plan of our own, and thank the Gods our plan worked. We got you out. You’re here. Even if everything else fails, we have this. We have these moments together. This morning on Bell Rock. Our precious few days here in this beautiful place you’ve created. We have this.”