Smoke on the Water (37 page)

“And if they don't,” Elise said, affecting a very convincing German accent, “we have ways of making them.”

Sebastian wasn't sure if she was joking or not. He decided to behave like someone in authority and not ask.

“What about them?” Sebastian lifted his chin to indicate Zoe and Deux, who weren't going to shut up.

“From the appearance of your face, Doctor, I think you were abducted. I think they did it. How does that work for you?”

He thought of Zoe trying to smother Willow and Deux helping her do all sorts of other nasty stuff, including smacking him in the face while he was powerless to stop the blows. “I like it.”

“Can he do all that?” Willow asked.

Good question. The old man might be crazier than any of the minions—his or Roland's.

“
I'm
going to have to do all that,” Elise said. “But, yeah, consider it done.”

*   *   *

Things moved so fast I got dizzy. Edward, Elise, and Nic left with the other
Jäger-Suchers
and Roland's minions, some of whom seemed to have woken from a trance with little memory of the past few weeks. Others, like Zoe and Deux, remembered everything and didn't care what they'd done.

I wasn't sure which was worse—being possessed by evil, or actually being evil.

“Is it really over?” I asked.

“I think s—” Becca began, then frowned and glanced right, left. “Where's Pru?”

Raye caught her breath. Her eyes filled with tears.

“What is it?” Bobby rushed to her, but she held out a trembling finger toward a space that appeared empty but must not be.

“Look.” She beckoned for us all to join hands as we had before.

As soon as we did, I saw Henry, his arms wrapped around the woman I'd seen in a vision, dying on a pyre for the sake of her children. The two only had eyes for each other, and why not? They hadn't been together on the same plane for centuries.

“I think it's over,” Becca said.

Henry's gaze fell on each of us in turn. “
Mo chlann,
it has just begun.”

Then he kissed his wife as his children watched. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

“Mom.” Owen's voice trembled.

Mary stood between us and our parents, who continued to make out.

“Baby boy,” she replied.

“That's what you called the dog.”

“Not anymore.”

She glanced at me. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Mary—” My voice broke. She sounded so lucid, like the woman she could have been if not for … so many things.

“You were the only friend I ever had, Willow. I'll never forget that.”

I nodded, but I still couldn't speak.

“Are you okay, Mom?”

“Better than okay. Roland's voice is gone. I feel more myself than I ever have.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Same reason she is.”

A young, thin girl, with long dark hair and Sebastian's eyes materialized. From the familiar earrings—one of which still shone in Sebastian's ear—I knew who she was even before Sebastian whispered, “Emma.”

“You need to let me go, Bass.”

“I—I can't. I failed you.”

“I failed me. You did everything you could.”

“You were too young to die.”

“I was. But it's over. Let it be over. Please. There are better places for me.” She reached for Mary's hand. “For us.”

He swallowed, nodded. The two remained.

“Aren't they supposed to fade?” I asked. “Vanish? Something?”

“We will,” Mary said.

“After the wedding,” Emma agreed.

 

Epilogue

“It's fitting that we're getting married on Halloween,” I said.

“Samhain,” Raye corrected. “Henry keeps saying Old Hallowmas, which is what the Scots call it. The veil is thin tonight. The spirits can cross over more easily.”

I hoped so. Sebastian's sister and Mary needed to go on. It bothered both Sebastian and Owen to have them here, even though they couldn't see them unless we were all connected. And Bobby—who'd felt spirits even before he met Raye—had gotten kind of twitchy.

“Samhain is the witches' new year,” Raye continued. “Perfect time to start a new life.”

“This is a time of magic,” I said. “Can you feel it?”

Raye and Becca smiled. Of course they did.

We stood in front of the floor-length mirror in the largest bedroom of the cabin. We wore the same dresses—mermaid style—which flattered all of us and seemed apropos considering where our wedding would take place, as well as the otherworldliness of our lives. Right now they were a bland cream, but that wasn't going to last.

We each held a red rose. Around the stems we'd tied a strand of our hair. Three candles sat on the floor in front of us—yellow, red, and white, representing mind, heart, and soul. Raye lit the yellow, Becca the red, and I put a match to the white. We began to pluck the petals from our roses, outside to in, as we chanted.

“Show yourself. Your own true heart will be revealed for all to see. So shall it be.”

We tossed the petals into the air, and as they cascaded over us, our dresses reflected our true colors.

Raye's shifted to an icy blue-white. A crown of baby's breath appeared atop her flowing black hair.

Becca's dress became brilliant yellow, her crown fashioned of orange irises, which should clash with her red hair but didn't.

My dress now reflected the depths of a tropical ocean, the circlet of flowers a twist of bluebells.

“Ready?” I offered my hands.

The instant we touched, we disappeared from the cabin and reappeared on the hill above Lake Superior. Our soon-to-be-husbands stood with their backs to the water. The sun hovered at the edge of night; the entire sky had gone pink and blue. Stars sprang up like diamonds as the moon began to rise.

A triple wedding. Seemed like the best way to go.

The stone altar held our magical instruments. A low hum emanated from them. To do what we wanted to for this wedding we'd need all the power we could get.

The three men wore identical black suits—Bobby with a white shirt and tie, Owen's shirt was red, his tie yellow, and Sebastian …

My gaze met his and my stomach danced. “Hush, little one,” I murmured.

Silly, I couldn't feel her move yet. Except I did.

Sebastian wore an aquamarine shirt and a bluebell-shaded tie. Becca had healed his face. Even if she hadn't, he'd be beautiful. He'd tucked his curling dark hair behind his ears so the firelight turned Emma's earring from gold, to bronze, to silver.

I loved that earring. Always had. Always would.

Together, my sisters and I joined hands with our men, creating a circle of six—or was it seven?—around the altar, our ghost guests and our parents. The moon blazed silver, and the spirits appeared as corporeal as we were.

At least for tonight.

Henry stood behind the altar, our mother at his side. Now that Roland was dead, the brands on their necks had vanished. That absence had convinced us more than anything that the horror was really, truly over.

Our father would marry us tonight as witches should be. In the air, beneath the moon, near the water, warmed by flame, our bare feet touching the earth.

In the coming weeks, Raye and Becca would take part in a second ceremony for their other families, who knew nothing of this, of us, of tonight. They wouldn't understand.

Sebastian tightened his fingers around mine. He and I had no one but each other and the people in this clearing. It was enough.

“We ask for the blessings of nature's elements,” Henry began. “Air, fire, water, and earth.”

He stood in front of Raye and Bobby. “We ask the spirits of Air to keep the lines of communication open between this couple. May their future be as bright as the sun on the horizon. As Air flows freely to and from and through us all, may their hearts and minds and souls come to know each other the same.”

He turned to Becca and Owen. “Spirits of Fire, we ask that their passion for each other and for life remain ever strong, fortifying them each day with vibrancy, boldness, and courage. Fire clears the way for new growth. This power is theirs, to bring about the quality that comes from true love.”

Henry stepped in front of Sebastian and me. “We ask the spirits of Water that their love for each other will be like the serenity of the ocean, an oasis that forever surrounds them, letting the surety with which Water makes its journey, flowing over rocks, and around trees, becoming vapor and riding the clouds, serve as a reminder that love endures.”

Henry stepped to the center of the circle where Pru, Mary, and Emma stood—joy in their eyes, happy tears on their cheeks.

“Spirits of the Earth,” he continued. “Give those who are here before you a rock-solid place to stand and fulfill their destinies. May their journeys mirror the vast planes and fertile lands, may they find the right seeds to sow to ensure a bountiful harvest.”

Sebastian flushed. He'd sown a seed and it had definitely become bountiful. I suppose having his soon-to-be-father-in-law point that out during the wedding
was
embarrassing. Then again, if Sebastian hadn't done so, we'd all be dead. Some of us would be dead-er.

Henry lifted his gaze to the star that blazed over the water. “When they look at the Northern Star, may they know it is as brilliant and constant as their love for each other.”

The star seemed to blink—bright, brighter, brightest—as if it knew we were watching. Was one of us doing that? Or was it all of us—together?

“Father, Mother, Divine Spirit, we ask your blessing upon these couples. May they become one in truth and forever revel in the magic that is love.”

Several stars fell, leaving trails like silver fireworks across the night.

“Kiss the brides.”

It wasn't easy to do holding hands in a circle, but we managed.

When I returned my gaze to my parents, Pru held a naked baby in her arms.

“Is that—” I began.

“Our granddaughter,” Henry said. “We'll spend the next several months getting to know her. But I can already tell you're going to have your hands full.”

“Swell,” Sebastian muttered, but the gaze he turned on our girl revealed he was already in love.

“We'll return every year at Samhain,” Pru said. “When the veil is thin.”

“Just you two?” I asked.

“Whoever you like,” Pru answered. “All you have to do is come together and ask.”

The baby lifted a chubby arm and opened, closed, then opened her hand. Everyone in the center of the circle did the same.

The rest of us released our hold on each other, and they were gone—but not for good. There was comfort in that.

After a kiss on each wife's brow, the new husbands moved off so we three sisters could say good-bye.

“Right here, same time next year?” Raye asked.

We did a group hug.

“It's a date,” I said.

Not that we wouldn't see each other before that. We wouldn't be very far apart.

Raye and Bobby were returning to her hometown of New Bergin, where she was a kindergarten teacher and he was the police chief. They had a black cat named Samhain, which was also fitting.

Becca and Owen would head for their hometown of Three Harbors nearby. Becca had a veterinary practice, and Owen planned to raise and train military working dogs for the Marines. His former MWD, Reggie, would be retiring soon and coming to live with them and their calico kitten, Grenade.

“Maybe we should get a cat,” I said as the others drove away, leaving us alone beneath the stars.

“I think a baby is enough for now.” Sebastian laid his palm on my stomach.

“Okay.” I covered his hand with my own.

Elise and Edward had been as good as their word, and Sebastian hadn't lost his license or his job at the facility, though he had taken a leave of absence from the latter. There'd been hints he could have Dr. Tronsted's job, as she'd accepted one in Fairbanks, Alaska.

I had a new identity—Willow Frasier—complete with a shiny new passport. Sebastian and I had decided to try it out with a honeymoon in Scotland. There would be time enough to decide what to do with the rest of our lives when we returned.

Sebastian kissed me quick; then with our hands atop the earth witch to come, he murmured, “It's going to be magic.”

One final star fell to the earth and burst open like a shower of flame across the water.

How could it not be?

 

Look for these other Sisters of the Craft novels by
New York Times
Bestselling Author

LORI HANDELAND

HEAT OF THE MOMENT

IN THE AIR TONIGHT

Available from St. Martin's Paperbacks

 

About the Author

Lori Handeland
is a two-time RITA Award winner and the
New York Times
bestselling author of the Nightcreature Novels, a paranormal romance series; the Phoenix Chronicles, an urban fantasy series; and the Shakespeare Undead historical fantasy series. She also writes Western historical romance under the name Lori Austin. Lori lives in Wisconsin with her husband, and enjoys occasional visits from her grown sons.