For Whom the Spell Tolls (26 page)

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Authors: H. P. Mallory

Tags: #C429, #Kat, #Extratorrents

BOOK: For Whom the Spell Tolls
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I shook my head, wondering if I simply imagined her voice, or if it was a trick of the wind. Feeling a renewed dejection, I faced forward again. That was when I saw her. Standing directly in front of me, she embodied the exact picture of how I remembered her before fate snatched her from me so long ago. Her long, platinum blonde hair blew about her face in perfectly straight, silken strands. Seeing the gentle smile on her lips brought fresh tears to my eyes. She was wearing the same, threadbare grey sweatpants she always wore when she returned home from work, along with an oversized T-shirt that proclaimed her “#1 Mom.” I’d given her the shirt when I was twelve years old and she’d worn it so often, the fabric was frayed. She wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup but she also didn’t need to. Her skin was the color and texture of alabaster, warmed by the natural coral blush on her cheeks and the deeper pink tones of her lips.

My mother was just as beautiful as I remembered. Her understanding, light brown eyes were a few shades darker than her hair, framed by eyebrows the color of coffee with cream, and deep, brown eyelashes. I, fortunately, inherited the soft lines of her jaw as well as her high cheekbones and pert, upturned nose. Even though my eyes reflected the same verdant green of my father’s, their almond shape belonged exclusively to my mother. The more I studied her, the more I realized how much I was my mother’s daughter. And it made my heart sing.

“My beautiful, Dulcie,” she said softly. She held her arms out to me and the smile I’d always loved so well deepened into a laugh of pure delight. I fell into her arms instantly, drinking in her scent—something gentle and breezy with whiffs of Tide and Jergens Body Lotion. I held her as tightly as I could, allowing the little girl who had missed her mother so much to surface from my heart. Right then and there, I promised myself I would never lose her again. By some trick or gift of fate, she’d been restored to me and it was a gift I cherished with all the essence of my being.

“Mom? Is it really you?” I whispered, suddenly fearing she might be a hoax created by my mind. Maybe she was really a dream, hallucination, or just an apparition visiting me. 

“Yes, it is really me,” she reassured. As if to prove it, she ran her hands through my hair just like she’d done a thousand times before. My heart swelled as I snuggled into her embrace and felt blissful tears streaming down my face.

“I’ve missed you so much, Mom,” I whispered.

She kissed the top of my head. “And I’ve missed you more than you will ever know, my little
Dulcinea
.” When she said her nickname for me (borrowed from Don Quixote), a sob surged in my throat. She pulled away from me and studied me for a few seconds, her eyes glowing with pride.

“Why did you have to leave me?” I asked, choking on another sob.

“It was just my time,” she said softly. “But I have always been with you, Dulcie, even though you couldn’t see me.”

I nodded although I didn’t understand how she could have always been with me without me ever having seen her or heard her.
But there were so many moments when you felt her
, I thought to myself. I smiled as I realized the truth in my own words. My mom really had always been with me.

I wrapped my arms around her more tightly. “I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

“You must be strong, Dulcie,” she whispered, her voice suddenly sounding pained.

I pulled away from her and regarded her in question, not understanding what her words meant. “Strong?” I repeated.

She simply nodded and dropped her eyes to the grass below our feet. She sat down and patted the grassy spot beside her, asking me to sit next to her. I did and leaned into her when she put her arm around me.

“Where are we, Mom?” I asked as I allowed my eyes to feast on the cornucopia of beauty that surrounded us. I relished the feel of the cool breeze as it toyed with our hair and stirred up the monotony of the otherwise warm, sunny day.

My mother’s smile faded slightly. “We’re in a place where time stands still,” she said gently, running her fingers through my hair as she started to hum the melody of “Golden Slumbers” by The Beatles. It was the same song she used to sing to me when she tucked me in at night.

“Once there was a way, to get back home,” she sang.

I wanted to close my eyes and succumb to the beautiful tones of her voice. I wanted to return to a time as a child when she rocked me against her and sang this song to banish whatever nightmare had just awoken me. But I couldn’t comprehend her comment that this mountain paradise was somewhere that time stood still. I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

She pulled me into her embrace again and I rested my head against her chest. I took a deep breath so I could inhale as much of her wonderful “Mom” scent as possible. “Dulcie, it’s not time for you to join me yet.”

“But I want us to be together again,” I responded, my voice cracking as I gazed up at her. It felt like all the years that separated us were now dissolving into the ether, as if they’d never been. “I’ve missed you so much. Please don’t leave me again.”

She smiled down at me, her eyes shining with adoration and unshed tears. “We will be reunited again in time, but now isn’t right.” She traced the outline of my face, just like she did when I was a child, upset over something.

“Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry,” she sang. “And I will sing a lullaby.”

I closed my eyes, loving the feel of her index finger traveling along my hairline and then dipping down to the bridge of my nose, only to outline my lips. As my mother sang to me, I realized how much pain I’d been storing inside all these years. I’d never dealt with the feelings of abandonment and heartache after my mother was snatched from me. Holding her now, though, somehow wiped all the pain clean away and I could feel nothing but jubilance.

“You still have a full and rich life to lead, Dulcie,” she whispered. “And as always, I will be by your side and I will continue to watch over you.” She paused for a few seconds, both of us happy to be snuggling against each another. “I am always with you, Dulcie.”

I opened my eyes and pondered her words as dawning reality began to creep into me. I had to catch my breath as images of a library of ransacked books flashed through my delirious mind. They were replaced by one of my father, standing on the second level of his library, leering down at me. I felt a sharp pain in my lower back as I recalled the event that brought me here, the event that had reunited me with my mother.

“I died. My father killed me,” I said in a hollow voice. I glanced up at her with shock on my face. “Am I dead now?”

She shook her head. “You haven’t traveled into the Forever Valley yet, Dulcie,” she said, eyeing the horizon where a forest of trees dominated the landscape.

“Is that the Forever Valley?” I asked. My eyes followed hers and settled on the trees, which seemed so far off in the distance, yet close enough to travel by foot. It was like an optical illusion.

She simply nodded. “I’ve come from the Valley to help you get back to where you belong, Dulcie.”

I sat up and shook my head, suddenly afraid to leave my mother’s side. “But what if I don’t want to go back? What if I want to stay here with you?”

“We can’t stay here,” she said quickly. “This is simply the land between here and there.”

“Then take me to the Valley with you.”

She shook her head, but smiled at me consolingly. “I can’t do that yet, Dulcie.”

“Why not?” I asked, my tone sounding desperate. “I can’t lose you again, Mom,” I started shaking my head as tears pooled in my eyes. “Please don’t make me go through it again.”

My mother silenced me by holding her fingers against my mouth. “You never lost me, Dulcie. I am, and will always be with you.”

But I didn’t want that sort of relationship with my mother. I wanted the relationship that we had right now—a physical one, where I could see and smell her, hug and laugh with her. A relationship where I could talk to her. “I just want us to be together again,” I said, my voice breaking. The tears started pouring from my eyes.

My mother nodded. “We will be together again, but right now, you still have unfinished business that is calling you back.”

“Why?” I demanded, suddenly angry. I couldn’t understand how fate would return my mother to me, only to yank her away again. It wasn’t fair.

“Because he needs you, Dulcie.”

“He?” I repeated. At my confused expression, she settled her attention on the ground and ran her palm across the grassy earth between her feet. I watched as the ground began to peel apart beneath her hands, leaving a blackness, an inky abyss of nothing. But after a few seconds, the inky blackness began to brighten and colors started to form against the darkness. The colors morphed into objects and people. I realized I was seeing a picture of another place and time. It was almost like watching a movie. I stared at the images unfolding before us and leaned closer, recognizing the scenery.

It was a library, but the books were strewn across the floor haphazardly, and all the furniture was broken and in disrepair. It looked like the scene after an earthquake, or maybe a burglary. But I didn’t get the feeling that either of those events had taken place here. Instead, my memory flashed images of exactly what happened. I shot my father and believed I’d killed him, but my attempt was unsuccessful. Instead, he managed to survive long enough to fire the bullet that entered my back, the dragon’s blood poisoning me and bringing me here.

The images playing out on the grass in front of us didn’t focus on my father, though. Instead, they zoomed in on the figure of a gallant, handsome man dressed in black. He leaned over the still figure of a woman lying prostrate on the ground, while her honey-gold hair fanned out behind her head and looked like a halo.

“Bram,” I whispered as I turned my attention to the woman and recognized her as myself. Icy coldness overtook my entire body and I had to hold back my tears again. I couldn’t help but notice the gold of my blood arcing out beneath me, like a river of molten lava. My gaze moved from the puddle of blood to the paleness of my skin. I was as white as the cottony clouds which dominated the sky in this place where time stood still.

I watched the vampire drop to his knees as he hovered over my body. Blood dripped from his mouth, trickling down his chin and vanishing into his neckline. It was my Melchior’s blood. Then I remembered how Bram had bitten my father after he’d shot me. Even though I still didn’t know my father’s fate, I was confident that he was dead and it wasn’t just a hunch. It was as if someone inserted the information in my head.

“Melchior,” I started, turning to face my mother.

She simply nodded. “He is gone.”

“Has he gone to the Valley?”

She shook her head. “He has gone to another place, which we won’t discuss.” Then she simply motioned to the image of the handsome vampire again. I watched as he leaned over and ran his fingers down the woman’s,
down my
cheek. I could hear him whispering the word, “sweet” as if it were an apology. He shook his head in despondent frustration before leaning over and kissing my forehead.

“You do not know how much I will miss you, my sweet,” he finished. “May you forever rest in peace, and shine your light wherever you now are. As much as I shall ache from your absence, I also envy you.”

I glanced at my mother and shook my head, confusion ringing through me. “But you said I wasn’t dead? You said it wasn’t my time to go?”

She nodded and offered me a reassuring smile. “You were in the throes of death, Dulcie, but as we are now where time stands still, you have been given a gift. Your gift is the ability to make your choice.”

“To make my choice?” I repeated.

“Yes, whether you care to return to your own space and time, or prefer to voyage on to the Forever Valley with me.” She took a deep breath and shook her head when I started to open my mouth. “But,” she interrupted, “before you make your decision, you need to see more.” Then she looked back at the images displayed before us and I refocused my attention.

I watched the gallant vampire as he stood up, averting his eyes from my face. At that moment, the door to the room burst open and a man stood there. His hair was mussed up and his face bore the scars of battle. His clothing was torn, tattered, stained and ripped. He wore a smile of victory, though, as if his bruises and cuts meant little or nothing to him. He seemed to shine from inside out and the smile that beamed from his face made me smile, in turn.

He was the most stunningly beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

“Knight,” I whispered, looking up at my mother as the puzzle pieces began to slide into place.

She faced me and smiled knowingly, with a slight nod. “He needs you, Dulcie.”

I didn’t respond as I watched the images unfolding against the background of the earth. I watched Knight’s eyes drop to the floor, where he saw my lifeless body. Instantly, the smile vanished from his face. He hesitated in the doorway, his chest expanding and contracting with his labored breathing.

“Dulcie,” he ground out.

“I am sorry,” the vampire responded, shaking his head to let it be known that I hadn’t survived my wound.

A cry of tortured grief came from Knight’s mouth as he ran across the room, throwing himself to the floor. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into his embrace, staring at me with eyes that revealed how horrific his loss.

“There was nothing I could do,” Bram added softly. Sensing the futility of the situation, Bram showed himself out of the room. Knight never took his eyes off mine.

“Dulcie, no,” he moaned into my hair as he rocked back and forth, holding me against him. My arms hung limply by my sides. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, shaking his head as he kissed the top of mine. As soon as his lips touched my hair, he buried his face in it and his shoulders began convulsing with sobs. A few moments later, he pulled his face up and strands of my hair stuck to his tear-stained cheeks. “Don’t do this to me!” he railed out, in an angry, pained voice. Looking upward, his expression was enraged and threatening. “Don’t take her from me!”

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