JAKrentz - Witchcraft (20 page)

He was a man. More than that, he was
Cavenaugh
. The basic masculine arrogance in him was an intrinsic part of his nature as was his sense of responsibility. It was instinctive of him to take charge of a situation and do what he thought had to be done. That part of him would never change. Accepting
Cavenaugh
as her lover meant accepting the total man.

Tonight had been one of the most difficult in her life. It had been traumatic facing the grandparents she had sworn never to meet. But on the whole, the confrontation had not gone the way she would have expected. It was impossible to hate the
Marlands
. Kimberly wasn't sure, yet, exactly what she felt toward the elderly couple who had been forced to beg her to acknowledge them. They seemed like strangers to her--people whom she had heard about from her mother and from the lawyers who had written to her explaining the history of the situation.

But they were people whom she'd never actually met and on some levels they had remained unreal until now. Tonight she had learned that they were two very human people who were trying to salvage something they had once foolishly thrown aside. It was impossible to hate them. Kimberly bit her lip as she reflected on her own pride.
Cavenaugh
had been right about that aspect of her personality. Just as he'd been right about the fact that she had nothing to fear in meeting her grandparents.

Cavenaugh
was no doubt right about a lot of things. But that didn't mean he was the right man for her to love, she told herself. Unfortunately, telling herself that and learning to
unlove
him were two entirely different matters. In spite of the turmoil of her emotions tonight, she knew that she loved the man. The anger and resentment that had driven her from the hotel in search of solitude had faded into a dull, sad ache by the time Kimberly pulled into the drive of her darkened beach house.

The storm was really raging at this point on the coast, and she was exhausted from fighting it for the past hundred and fifty miles.

Lightning crackled as she stood on the porch, fumbling in her purse for the key. She had changed into a pair of jeans and the full-sleeved white blouse she had intended to wear on the drive back to the Napa Valley, but she hadn't brought along an umbrella. The rain had almost drenched her just during the short dash from the car. Her fingers trembled slightly as she finally located the correct key and thrust it into the lock. It seemed that every nerve in her body was being delicately probed with a razor. It was no wonder that she was suddenly so shaky. It was nearly four o'clock in the morning. She had been through a great deal tonight and the drive through the worsening storm had not helped. What she needed was a glass of wine and bed. Taking a grip on herself, she turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. And saw at once that the last things she was fated to get tonight were a glass of wine and the privacy of her own bed. Panic smashed through her, scattering her senses for a timeless instant. It was the candle burning in the middle of the pentagram that caught her eye first.

The ancient, magical symbol had been drawn on her living room floor and the candle glowed evilly in a low, squat metal holder that sat at the center of the design. The candlelight was the only light in the room but it was enough to illuminate the hooded figure who sat cross-legged on the far side of the pentagram. "Come in, Kimberly Sawyer. You are expected." Kimberly flinched at the familiar voice but before she could react two other figures stepped out of the darkness and into the faint light of the candle. They were both hooded and robed but one had his hand extended and in it was a gun. "Close the door," a man's voice commanded from the depths of the flowing cowl. Kimberly desperately tried to weigh her chances. He could kill her easily before she could dash back thro ugh the door, she realized. She might have been able to outrun a knife but no one could outrun a bullet. Slowly, she closed the door behind her. She felt a distant kind of surprise that her chilled muscles responded to the silent effort. The door seemed very heavy.

"The power is strong tonight, my lady," murmured the second standing figure. "It has brought her here, right into our grasp." There was awed wonder in the tones and also a touch of familiarity. Kimberly knew she had heard that voice sometime in the past, too. "The power," intoned the woman who remained seated in front of the pentagram, "grows stronger every day. Have I not told you that?" She lifted her head so that her features were illuminated beneath the shadowy hood. "Good evening, Kimberly." Kimberly stared back at her, calling on a kind of pride that only tonight she had learned was inherited from her grandparents. That pride was all she had to get her through this terrifying encounter.

With an effort of will she forced a measure of cool mockery into her response. "Hello, Ariel. Graduated from tea leaves to the big time, I see." The sardonic comment startled her because it didn't reflect the panic that seemed to have invaded every corner of her mind. She discovered that managing the cool remark gave her a measure of courage, however. Kimberly seized on that spark of strength. Ariel Llewellyn smiled back at her, but the cheerful, scatterbrained expression of the woman who had been virtually a member of the
Cavenaugh
household for almost a year was gone. A hint of madness gleamed in her eyes and there was an unnaturally serene smile on Ariel's mouth, as if she could see into the future and found it satisfying. "You have been incredibly foolish, Kim. And now you will pay." Kimberly concealed the tremor of fear that went through her. Ariel meant it. "Well, I know a one-hundred-fifty-mile drive through a storm probably isn't the brightest thing someone can do at three in the morning, but what can I say? I was bored." Ariel shook her head once as if unable to believe such stupidity. ' Foolish woman. You had no option but to make that drive tonight. You were summoned. That was not a matter of choice for you. No, you made your mistake two months ago when you chose to interfere in matters that did not pertain to you."

"The little matter of the kidnapping?" Kimberly swallowed the sickening taste of fear and swung her gaze to the standing woman. "You're the one who was holding Scott in that beach house, aren't you? The one I took him away from so easily that night." She turned her attention back to Ariel. "It seems to me you've got some problems in the personnel section of your organization, Ariel. I know good help is hard to get but you've really picked some blunderers. This idiot didn't even hear me the night I came by to fetch Scott. And then there was that turkey with the knife who kept tripping over his Halloween costume. This guy with the gun probably forgot the ammunition." There was an ominous growl from the armed man and the nose of the gun lifted menacingly. "I assure you it is loaded," Ariel said calmly. "But I do hope you won't force him to use it. We have much more interesting plans for you, Kim."

"Wonderful. Are we going to sit around and read cards?" "I told you the day of the card reading that you should take the omens seriously. Of course, I knew you wouldn't. But you learned a lesson that night, didn't you, Kim?"

"Why did you do things the hard way the other night, Ariel? Why make your hit man use an antique silver dagger, which, I have on the best authority, isn't a particularly efficient weapon? Stylish, yes.

Efficient, no." Ariel's mouth hardened and in the glow of the candle flame her eyes seemed to glitter. "It was important that you die properly. It has been a hundred years since the Dagger has been blooded. You were chosen as its victim."

"Because I interfered in the kidnapping." Kimberly nodded, as though it all made perfect sense.

"Why did you take Scott two months ago? Was he the original choice for the sacrifice?"

"Oh, no. Kidnapping Scott was purely a financial move," Ariel assured her. "We needed the money. It was decided that
Cavenaugh
should be the source."

"You mean this magical power of yours can't conjure up something as simple as a credit card?" That seemed to crack Ariel's unnatural serenity. "It was the power that decided the money should come from the
Cavenaughs
."

"But you never got it, did you?"

"We will in time," Ariel declared, calming again. "All will happen as the power said it would happen. In time." Kimberly glanced at the shadowed faces of the other two people in the room. "Are you guys as crazy as she is? Do you actually believe in all this inane nonsense? Sooner or later, you know, the whole mess is going to cave in on you and you're going to get caught. That turkey who tried to kill me the other night is probably singing his heart out to the cops now!"

"That punk knows nothing," the figure with the gun assured her. "No names, no faces. It was all arranged very carefully. He knew only that he had to do it in the prescribed manner, using the Dagger, because he would not be paid otherwise."

"You're out of your mind if you think he won't be able to provide the authorities with some clues. The knife alone is a very big one."

"No one but the Select know the meaning and purpose of the Dagger," Ariel put in evenly. "There are only a few of us in each generation. The secrets are always guarded most carefully. The authorities will learn nothing from the Dagger."

"Where did you get it, Ariel?" Kimberly couldn't think of anything
esse
to do except keep the conversation going. Ariel seemed willing enough to chat about her "power" and the other two seemed totally under her control. But before Ariel could answer, the phone rang. Kimberly wasn't the only one who flinched at the unexpected, shrill command of the instrument. The guy with the gun must have jumped an inch, she decided. And the young woman looked momentarily panicked. Without even having to think about it, Kimberly knew who was on the other end of the line. "That will be
Cavenaugh
," she said quite clearly. "He'll be checking to see that I got home safely."

"No!" The sharp denial was from Ariel. ' course it is."

Kimberly assured her. "Who else would be calling at four in the morning? Why don't you get out your fortune-telling cards and see if I'm right?" The phone rang again, harshly demanding. "The only problem," Kimberly continued, "is that by the time you've dealt the cards to determine who's calling,
Cavenaugh
will have given up and decided something must be wrong. Knowing him, I expect his next move will be to call the Highway Patrol. With his name and clout he'll probably get them to come check on me." The phone rang again and the man with the gun was definitely nervous now. He looked at Ariel for guidance. "We'd better let her answer it, my lady." Ariel lifted an admonishing hand. "I will decide,
Emlyn
." Her once-cheerful eyes were full of threat as she nodded brusquely at Kimberly. "Answer it. And be very, very careful what you say, Kim, or I will have
Emlyn
kill you where you stand. Tell
Cavenaugh
you're fine. Then get rid of him."

Aware of the other three watching her with violent intensity, Kimberly moved to answer the phone. She was so certain it would be
Cavenaugh
that she wasn't at all surprised at the sound of his voice. What did surprise her was the urgent concern in his words. "Kim? A re you all right?"

"I'm fine,
Cavenaugh
. It was a long drive, but I'm home. I told you there wouldn't be any problem, didn't I?"

"You didn't have the courtesy to tell me a thing," he exploded softly. "You just did a midnight flit without bothering to mention the little fact that you were leaving town."

"You know how writers are, darling. They get the oddest compulsions at the oddest hours. I just had to come back here to finish what I started." Across the room Ariel glowered at her, motioning her to get off the phone. "You don't work like that. You work regular hours.

What the hell are we discussing your writing for, anyway? You know that's not what's wrong between us. Kim, listen to me. We've got to talk about what happened tonight." Kimberly steadied herself, deliberately dropping her voice to what she hoped would sound like a sensuous purr to the three people watching her so malevolently. "You know I'll look forward to that. I always enjoy our pillow talk.

Remember the last chat we had in bed?"

"Kimberly, you're not making a whole lot of sense. But, yes, I do remember the conversation,"
Cavenaugh
said roughly. "You told me you loved me. Are you trying to tell me that you've realized you still do?"

"Actually, I was referring to the other topic we discussed," she murmured lovingly.
Emlyn
raised the snout of the gun in a gesture of warning. "I remember how you assured me that you understood. Your understanding would mean a great deal to me right now,
Cavenaugh
." There was a taut silence on the other end of the phone. Kimberly could almost feel
Cavenaugh
sorting through her words. When he spoke again there was a new edge in his voice, one she had never heard before. "You were scared that night."

"Yes, darling," she whispered lightly. "And tonight?"

"Oh, I still feel the same way,
Cavenaugh
. Even more so." He swore with soft violence. "How much time have I got?". Kimberly swallowed. "I don't know how I'll make it through the rest of the night without you," she said, some of the purring quality draining from her voice. "How many of them?" The question was as hard and cold as a knife blade. Kimberly swallowed.

"I've got three chapters to get done for that deadline. A lot of work so I really must get to bed. It's been a very long, tiring drive. Take care,
darl
ing
. I'll look forward to seeing you when I've finished Vendetta." She hung up the phone before an obviously nervous
Emlyn
could get any more restless. The younger woman looked relieved and glanced at Ariel for direction. Ariel nodded. "Tie her up,
Zorah
, and put her in the bedroom for now. We have preparations to make." She flung a coldly amused look at Kimberly. "It's a good thing you had the sense to keep Darius out of this. Loving him as much as you do, I'm sure you wouldn't want him hurt. Take her away,
Zorah
.
Emlyn
, give her a hand and then come back here. There is much to be done before tonight." Loving him as much as you do. The words played about in Kimberly's brain as she submitted to having her wrists bound behind her back and her ankles tied.
Emlyn
supervised the process, his gun never wavering. Loving him as much as you do. The old witch was right, Kimberly realized as
Zorah
and
Emlyn
left the room. Maybe Ariel really did have some power. Kimberly tested her bonds carefully. Her captors had left her trussed up in the middle of her bed. Loving him as much as you do. There was no point in denying it, Kimberly told herself bleakly as she lay staring at the far wall. Self-honesty seemed appropriate when you found yourself in such dangerous circumstances. She loved
Cavenaugh
. Perhaps when she had run from the hotel tonight she had only been running from the truth. She knew she had made him understand that something was wrong but what would he do next, Kimberly wondered. He was probably still back in San Francisco. The only thing he could do was call the local authorities and ask them to check out the situation.