Mark of the Witch (26 page)

And then my brain exploded in another white-hot flash.
Everything went blindingly bright and then velvet, silent black.

* * *

When Indy had moved to the center of the circle,
extending her hands, one up and one down, Tomas had been able to focus on
nothing else. God, she was like a divine being, an angel. She literally glowed
from within, lighting the dark circle beyond the ability of the small candles
lining it. She’d changed, visibly changed, from before the ceremony. He watched,
he listened, and he was even more stunned when at last she began to speak,
because she wasn’t speaking English. It was Babylonian flowing flawlessly from
her lips.

But that was just the beginning. She paused between words, and
a bolt from the sky hit her. His first thought was lightning—a bolt from a clear
sky. But it wasn’t lightning. It wasn’t anything he could identify. A beam of
white-gold light entered her body through her upturned palm.

And then she lowered her head and started talking again. Deep,
deeper than her normal voice. And richer, somehow.

He was a little more prepared this time, but just as stunned
when another bolt of light—only it was black light this time, he couldn’t
describe it any better than that—shot up from the ground and into her other
hand.

A heartbeat later she was emitting an even brighter glow than
before. It came from her body, beaming out of her like an aura. He tried to look
at Rayne to see if she was as shocked as he was—because surely this didn’t
happen every time witches cast a spell, did it? Surely she would have told him
if it had. Anyway, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t look away.

And then there was a flash and Indy hit the ground. The lights
shut down, and there was a golden disk lying on the ground in front of her.

It had worked.

She looked at him, smiling, telling him as much, but he was
still in shock over seeing her as the center of a laser light show. Despite
that, he moved into the circle, though his knees kept trying to buckle, and he
bent and picked up the amulet.

He had a choice to make, and he had to make it right then. To
trust her with what was, after all,
her
destiny. Or
to trust Father Dom instead.

There was no competition. He looked down at her and met her
eyes, then lowered the necklace over her head until the amulet lay on her
breast. She thanked him with her eyes and lifted a hand to touch the golden
disk.

Suddenly she froze, her eyes going blank, her body, rigid,
paralyzed as the amulet’s golden glow flashed unnaturally brighter.

“Indy?”

The amulet wavered and began to fade.

“Grab it, Tomas!” Dom shouted. “It’s vanishing again!”

But it continued to fade, until all at once it disappeared and
Indy’s head rose. Expressionless, she faced him, and her eyes flashed. The
diamonds from the amulet were there,
right there,
in
her eyes. And then her eyes fell closed and she collapsed on the ground.

Tomas fell to his knees beside her, cradling her, lifting her.
“Indy! Talk to me. Wake up.”

A heavy hand fell to his shoulder. Tomas looked up. Father Dom
was there, staring down knowingly. “This was supposed to happen.”

“What?” Tomas searched his old friend’s face, noting vaguely
that his sister was rushing around releasing the energies of the four quarters
and performing the other closing rites. He knew they were important or she would
be there with him. He shifted his attention back to Father Dom. “What do you
mean by that?”

“The amulet has melded with her. She has taken it into her own
body. ‘Only she who created it can call it forth, and only to return it to the
one to whom it rightfully belongs,’” he quoted. “It won’t emerge from her again
except by her will, and only then to go to the Demon. To enable him to cross
back into our world.”

“And you knew this would happen all along?”

“I did. I was hoping you could smash it first, but…” He lowered
his head briefly, gave it a rapid shake.

“I don’t understand, Dom. If you knew she would…absorb the damn
thing, then how the hell did you think we’d be able to destroy it?”

Dom leaned closer, lowered his voice and said, “There’s only
one way, Tomas. There’s only ever been one way. And it’s the same solution that
you enacted long, long ago. You have to kill her, Tomas. That is your true
calling. You have to kill the witch.”

17

“Y
ou’ve lost your mind, Dom!”

Tomas refused to listen to anything further; in fact, he was
still unsure he’d heard Dom correctly to begin with, as he carried Indy back
toward the house, her beautiful white robe trailing almost to the ground. Rayne,
having finished the closing rites in what must have been record time, raced
along beside them, holding up the edges of her own identical garment, held in
place by braided cords just like the ones wrapped around Indy’s waist now.

“What happened?” Rayne asked. “Where’s the amulet?”

“I think it’s…inside her.”

His sister clapped a hand to her mouth and raced ahead to open
the sliding doors, then up the stairs to open the bedroom door. She yanked back
the bedcovers, and Tomas laid Indy down and pulled them over her again. Sitting
on the edge of the mattress, he stroked her cheek, pushing her hair back over
and over, searching her face for any sign of life. She was breathing, but the
pulse in her throat was beating soft and fast, like a hummingbird’s.

“It was too much for her. Too much,” he whispered.

“Not for her,” Rayne said. “She’s amazing, Tomas. I’ve never
seen such a powerful witch.”

He shook his head. “Dom says…” And then he stopped. Indy might
be a super-witch, but his sister was no slouch, and if he told her what Dom had
said out in the apple orchard, the old priest might be sitting on a lily pad
catching flies before morning.

Or worse. Rayne had a temper. And she was fiercely protective
of her fellow witches. “Dom says what?” she asked.

“Never mind. I need to make him leave. This is over, this
is…over. It’s done. I’m sending him home. Stay with her?”

“I will.”

Tomas nodded, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Indy.
His heart ached for what this had cost her, was still costing her. And at this
point, he just wanted her to be all right. She’d done her part. It hadn’t
worked, and there was no way he—or anyone else—was going to kill her to make it
work. Dom had crossed the border from zealot to lunatic. It ended here.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told his sister, finally
dragging his eyes from Indy and rising from the bed.

Rayne wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re making the
right decision, Tomas. I don’t know what the answers are, but I don’t for one
minute believe that out of the four of us, Dom is the only one who has it all
figured out. He’s the least-holy holy man I’ve ever met.”

He hugged his sister. “I love you, Rayne. Thanks for being here
for me.”

“Where else is a sister gonna be when her big bro’s out
fighting demons and saving the world?” She moved to the bed and sat down, her
entire focus shifting from him to Indy. “Damn, did you see it out there tonight?
The power coming into her from above and below? Did you see it?”

“Yeah. I saw it.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Well, that answered one of his questions.

“She’s really something special, Tomas.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, she really is.”

He left the room reluctantly, but he’d made up his mind. It was
time to confront Father Dom and politely retire from this insane mission. And
while he was at it, he might as well break it to his mentor, the man who had
performed
his
initiation rites—only they called it
ordination in his neck of the woods—that he’d decided he could no longer remain
in the priesthood.

It was going to devastate Dom. But Tomas thought the old man
had bigger problems than being disappointed in his apprentice. He needed help.
And Tomas was going to make sure he got it. Dom had been the only father figure
Tomas had ever known. He would see to it that he got better.

* * *

“Hey, there you are.”

Rayne was stroking my hair when I woke. I’d felt the soft
caress in my dreams and had hoped it was her brother. But no, it was Rayne. And
that was almost as good.

I smiled, though I felt tired. “Hey. Where’s Tomas?”

“Having a sit-down with Father Dom. I think he’s finally ready
to bail on this mission of his.”

I sat up straight in the bed, my brain coming fully awake.
“Really?” Was he actually telling the old goat that he was hanging up his
collar? Or just giving up on this particular demon quest? “Did he say that, or
are you guessing?”

“Oh, he said it. I had the feeling there was more, but that’s
all he gave me. Still, it’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I lowered my head, feeling sort of let down.
“It’s a pretty anticlimactic ending to all this, though, wouldn’t you say? I
mean, we went through so much to get the amulet, and now that we have it, he
doesn’t even want it?”

“Well, we don’t actually have it.” Rayne pursed her lips and
seemed to be searching for words. “I mean, you do, but…” Shrugging, she sighed.
Like she’d just given up on trying to convey something she didn’t understand
herself.

“I have it?” I put a hand to my chest to see if I was still
wearing the thing on a chain, warming at the memory of Tomas putting it around
my neck. I patted myself down, pausing on the shape of the scroll at my waist.
“I don’t have it.” I lifted the covers to see if the amulet had fallen off
underneath them while I was asleep or passed out or whatever I’d been, but it
wasn’t there. I gave up the hunt and began untying the cords at my waist, which
were only supposed to be worn during ritual.

Rayne pursed her lips, started over. “You sort of…absorbed
it.”

I had tugged the cords out from beneath the covers and was
holding them out toward her. But I froze at those words. “I…what?”

“Absorbed it.” She took the braided cords from me and gently
twined them into a coil as she walked away from me. She put them into a black
drawstring sack she must have taken from her own things, tugged it closed, and
then brought it back and hung it from the bedpost. “The amulet vanished, the
diamonds flashed in your eyes, clear as day, and then you passed out cold.”

“But…but I don’t understand.”

“Me neither,” she said softly. “Maybe you’d better read the
scrolls now.”

I drew a breath and reached under the covers. When I’d removed
the cords, the scrolls had slid from their spot at my waist, but now I fished
them out from under my makeshift toga and laid them on my lap. “I’m exhausted. I
don’t know if I can stay awake long enough to read them.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go make a pot of strong coffee and
bring you some carbs to go with it. You need to ground some of that energy you
absorbed, anyway.”

“Sweet carbs, please,” I said with a smile. “If I’ve got a good
excuse to eat them, they might as well be packed with sugar.”

Rayne nodded. “That’s what I always say. Be right back,
hon.”

She left me alone. My hands were shaking as I lifted the
rolled-up bundle and carefully untied the strand of leather that held it
together. I moved in slow motion as I gently unrolled the parchment pages. There
were a dozen, give or take, and I smoothed them onto my lap, holding both ends
to keep them from curling right back up again.

At first all I could do was frown down at the lines and shapes
that seemed entirely nonsensical to me. But as I kept staring at the pages my
eyes went out of focus, and the symbols blurred and shifted…and became the
letters of my own alphabet, words in my own language. And I began to read.

Did I ever really think magic wasn’t real?
How could I have been so blind?

* * *

“Here,” Dom said, picking up a glass of whiskey over ice
and handing it to Tomas. “Drink it, you’re going to need it.”

Tomas had come into the den looking for Dom, mentally preparing
himself to break the news. But now that he was face-to-face with the man who’d
chosen him as his own successor, trained him for the job, ordained him
personally and practically raised him to boot, words failed him. So he took a
deep pull from the glass, crossed the room and, bracing one arm against the
darkly stained window frame, stared outside. “It’s starting to rain.”

“Seasons are changing,” Dom said. “Going to be nasty for the
next few days. Creek was already high from that last big storm, too.”

Tomas took another drink, draining it this time.

Dom walked up beside him, pouring in a little more. “What I
said before, it shocked you,” he said.

“Then you really did say it?” Tomas asked. “I’ve been telling
myself I must have heard you wrong, or that you were speaking figuratively
or…shit, I don’t know what. Something. Anything.”

“Believe me, I understand. But I have always known it would
come to this, Tomas. I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think you were ready to
hear it. And then…with this alignment, and the Demon forcing us to act… Hell,
Tomas, I thought I’d have more time to prepare you—”

“For murder?” Tomas asked, turning to pin him with his eyes. “I
can’t believe you’re actually asking me to take a life, much less her life!
You’re a priest, for God’s sake.”

Dom didn’t even flinch, only sipped his drink and paced away.
“This is a test of your faith, Tomas. It’s not me asking you to do this. It’s
God. And He’s not asking. He’s commanding.”

“No.”

“Just the way He commanded Abraham to sacrifice his child,
Isaac. I told you that earlier.”

Tomas turned away, remembering again the shiver of unease that
had tiptoed up his spine at that comparison. It had been an inner knowing. He
should have listened to it. “Well, you were right to think I wasn’t ready. I
will never be ready for…that.”

Dom moved closer and put a hand on Tomas’s shoulder, but Tomas
flinched away from his touch. “Sometimes, my son, drastic measures are
necessary. A single life is not as valuable as the thousands, perhaps millions,
that could be lost should the Demon make his way through the Portal into the
world of man. My God, Tomas, do you think this mission, this quest, has been
handed down from one holy man to the next for three thousand five hundred years
for nothing?”

The man was nuts, Tomas thought. His mind was completely gone.
“I think you’ve been too focused on the…mission for too long, Dom. I think
maybe—I think maybe this whole thing has had an impact, mixed things up in your
mind a little.”

“I’m not insane.”

Tomas stared at Dom, not blinking, looking him dead in the eye
to show his old friend his sincerity. His honesty. His concern. “You’re talking
about committing murder.”

“Sacrifice. For the greater good.”

“It’s murder.” Maybe if he just kept repeating it?

“She’s going to hell otherwise. She’s a witch, Tomas. But
giving her life for this noble cause, to save her fellow man from the claws of
the Demon—it might very well be the only way she can escape damnation. You’d be
saving her soul!”

“Her soul? It’s her soul you’re worried about? What about
yours? What about
mine,
Dom?”

Dom held his gaze. “You killed her once already.”

He flinched, because that blow hit home.

“It’s your destiny, Tomas. It’s your fate. You have to do
this.”

“I refuse. And I’m done with this. Whatever this demon does, he
does. If God wants to stop him, He’s powerful enough to do it without my help,
and without murdering an innocent woman.” He swallowed hard and set the
half-empty tumbler down, wanting to keep his head clear. “And I might as well
tell you, I’ve put in a request to leave the priesthood, and I’ve requested
dispensation from the vow of celibacy.”

“She’s corrupted you!” Dom accused, wide-eyed, trembling now
with rage. “I knew it! I knew she was bewitching you with her—”

“You know
nothing.
I did this
before I even met her.” Tomas picked up the drink again, then slammed the glass
back onto the table without taking a sip. He didn’t need liquid courage. The
more he thought on this, the more certain he was. “This is over now, Father Dom.
You can stay until morning. Then I want you out of here. And I want you to know,
I think you need help, and I’m going to do everything in my power to see that
you get it.”

Dom sipped his own drink, nodding slowly. “I hope you’re
prepared for the repercussions of your actions, Tomas. To turn your back on a
sacred calling, a task for which you were handpicked by God Almighty—you risk
divine retribution, my son. And I would just as soon be far from you when it
begins to unfold.” Another sip drained the glass, and he set it down, then,
turning, left the den.

Tomas sank onto the sofa. His body felt weak and yet, somehow,
lighter. Like he’d been traveling uphill with a thousand-pound sack over his
shoulder and had finally decided to just put it down.

Just put it down.

He closed his eyes, eyed his half-empty glass, thought about
refilling it and getting good and drunk, but he couldn’t even summon the energy
to get up off the leather sofa to find the whiskey. He was emotionally and
spiritually drained.

He found himself sliding forward from the couch, dropping
heavily to his knees, folding his hands and lowering his head. He tried to pray,
but when he moved his lips, no sound emerged. His throat closed tight, his eyes
burned with tears he hadn’t known were waiting to spill over, and his chest
heaved when they finally did.

“Just show me what to do, Lord,” he muttered when he managed to
speak. “Send me a sign. Something. Anything.”

The cell phone chirped. The wind outside howled. A low rumble
of thunder came over the horizon. It was going to storm like hell. The bridge
would wash out again for sure. He looked at the caller ID. Private. No matter,
he picked it up.

“This is Tomas Petrosa,” he said.

Static… “—ation…for Divine Worship…”

“Congregation for Divine Worship?” he asked. “Yes, yes. I
didn’t expect you to get back to me so soon.”

“got…your…quest.”

“You got my request, yes. Good.”

“…fusion.”