Mark of the Witch (24 page)

The Lovers had to come next, for I had fallen in love then and
was in love still. Yes. I pressed my fingertips to the image of the nude male
and female forms standing beneath the sheltering arms of a benevolent god.

It lit up, too.

Which one next? The Hierophant? That had to be the High Priest
who ordered my death. Death, skeletal and frightening upon his white horse? No,
the Death card stood for change. My eyes lit on The World. In some decks it was
The Universe, and it symbolized death far more than the Death card did. It stood
for death and rebirth. And that fit.

I touched the woman who stood amid an endless circle with the
elements surrounding her in all directions.

The third square lit up, and I heard the distinct snapping of
the ancient padlock. As I set the box into its correct position once more, I saw
that the lock was now hanging open. Carefully, shaking with anticipation and
more, I removed the lock and lifted the lid.

A blinding beam of white light blasted at me from inside the
box, and I instinctively averted my face, throwing up one arm to protect my
eyes. Then, as it faded, I lowered my arm, dared to look inside.

I saw an array of parchment pages rolled together and secured
by a leather tie. Inside the raised lid, there were words.

I read them aloud. “For the Eyes of Spirit alone.”

“How did you know what that said?” Tomas asked softly.

I was startled by his presence, not to mention because I hadn’t
even heard him return, but I didn’t turn, couldn’t look away as my focus
sharpened and I realized that the words I was staring at were not in
English.

“That’s Akkadian,” he said softly.

“But when I looked at it just now, it looked like English.” I
took the scrolls from the box and held them to my chest. “I can’t read them
until I see Rayne.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“The Eyes of Spirit are given to a witch during the third
initiation. I don’t have them.”

“But Rayne said that sort of thing is given by spirit.”

“I don’t care. Look, I’ve come this far. I’m not looking at
these until I’m sure I’m supposed to.” I lowered my head. “Okay, it’s stupid,
but I keep visualizing the Nazis when they looked inside the Ark of the Covenant
in
Raiders of the Lost Ark.
You know. Indiana
Jones.”

“Your namesake.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling as if I was slowly emerging from a
trancelike state. I closed the lid and turned to look up at Tomas at last.

Just the sight of him made my heart seem to swell up in my
chest. God, I felt a lot for that man.

“I found another way out,” he said. “Great timing, huh?” He
offered his strong hand and I took it, dropping the scrolls back into the chest
with the other. “Let’s go.”

I surged to my feet, stumbled and sort of slammed into him. His
arms shot around me, an automatic reflex to keep us both from falling over. But
then they stayed there. I laid my head against his chest—I just couldn’t resist
the urge. And when I felt his heart beating there, it did something to me.
Poured gasoline on the sparks that had been flying between us since the day we’d
met.

“Tomas.” I breathed his name so softly I didn’t know if he’d
heard me. It wasn’t like me to be all soft and whispery. Not like the old me,
anyway. Being around him seemed to have unearthed a new me. One who was all
about hearts and flowers, whispers and softness, and the warmth of skin against
skin.

“I can’t stand this much longer,” I confessed, lifting my
head.

He looked straight down into my eyes. “Neither can I.”

“Then kiss me already.”

His lips rose a little at the corners. Like he wanted to smile,
but he didn’t. Not quite. And then he lowered his head and his mouth found mine,
and we kissed like teenagers after prom.

I was shaking all over, and that surprised me. I hadn’t
expected it. But the kiss didn’t end, and I didn’t want it to. Ever. So when my
knees got all jellylike, I just let them melt and held on tighter. We staggered
around a little, turning in slow circles, his feet shuffling, mine just going
along for the ride, while our mouths kept each other busy. I wound up with my
back against a stone wall. It felt cool, and his chest and his arms felt warm. I
used the wall to hold me up and held him tighter. I would not in a million years
have planned to wrap my legs around his waist like a spider monkey, but that was
exactly what I did.

And that took things deeper. Hotter. He was moving against me,
and I was writhing and moving, too, until the only thing keeping it from being
actual sex was our clothes. His mouth slid off mine and traveled a path along my
jawline and down to my neck, and damn if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever. His
lips moving over that sensitive skin, nipping now and then like the world’s
sexiest vampire, just teasing his way to the big bite at the end.

He cupped the back of my head with one hand and bent his head
lower, nuzzling his way into the scooped neck of my tank top, pushing
impatiently at the fabric and managing to get a mouthful of breast, though not
the best part. Not yet. But even that made my skin tingle, my nerves jump. I
clutched his head with both hands, thinking,
more, more,
more.

And then my breast was fully exposed and he was lapping at the
peak while I panted.

I love you!

What the fuck?
I went still.
Whose voice was that? And did I say those words out loud or
only in my head?

Seeming to pick up on my sudden jolt of ice water, Tomas lifted
his head, met my eyes, and then slowly, gently, lowered me to my feet again. “I
want you so much I can’t think about anything else,” he told me.

“Me, too.”

“But I can’t.”

I almost rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t. “I know your vows are
important to you.”

He lowered his head, turned away from me. “There’s something I
haven’t told you.”

“So tell me.”

He met my eyes, and his were dark with emotion. “I faxed a
request to leave the priesthood, and for a dispensation from the vows of
celibacy.”

“Oh, Tomas, tell me you didn’t do that for me.” I moved closer
to him, sliding my palm up over his back, to his strong shoulder, still
shivering with need and arousal. His head was low. As if he were ashamed of what
he was admitting to me.

“I did it before I met you. I explained everything in my
letter, including Dom’s belief that I was chosen for this mission and my intent
to fulfill it before leaving the priesthood. But I knew this life wasn’t for me
even then.” He lowered his head. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“I’m touched you felt you could share it with me.” I didn’t
know what to say. “I left my faith, too, you know.”

“You weren’t a priest.”

“Or even a priestess. But I am now.”

He nodded. “And to be clear, I’m not leaving my faith. I love
my belief system. I just don’t think I was cut out to be a priest.”

“I can say without doubt, Tomas, that if the Goddess Herself
told me that I had to give you up for Her, I’d tell Her to take a flying
leap.”

His head came up, and he was smiling. It was a pained smile,
but a smile all the same. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll strike you with lightning
for saying things like that?”

“She’d be laughing with me and telling me she liked my
spunk.”

“I like your Goddess,” he said.

“I’m pretty fond of your savior, as well.”

His face softened. “I’ve been tearing myself up wondering if
this was the right decision. I’m allowed to withdraw the request right up until
it’s approved, and every morning I wake up wondering if this is the day I make
that call. But every time I look at you, I’m sure it was the right
decision.”

“So…”

“So I’d feel better about this if I could manage to keep my
hands off you until I’ve been officially excused from my vows.”

I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn’t want to
say what I was going to say, but I would feel like a total ass if I didn’t.
“This is a big decision, Tomas. Are you absolutely sure you’re not doing it
based on leftover memories, or guilt, or any of that crap from this past-life
thing we had together? I mean, even though you weren’t aware of it, on some
subconscious level you might have remembered it all. Felt guilty.”

He thought for a long moment, his eyes roaming my face in a way
that was almost like a touch. “I’m not sure of anything right now, Indy. Except
what’s between us. That’s real.”

I lowered my eyes, because suddenly there were tears in
them.

He slid an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get out of here,
okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

16

T
hey followed the tunnel Tomas had located,
heading toward the wafting, autumn-scented air and ever-growing pool of light.
It hit Tomas that this journey was just like the one his soul had been taking.
He’d walked through darkness, accepting a life that seemed like the one that was
expected of him. Believing in Father Dom’s insistence that he had a calling
while never truly feeling it himself. Always, he’d been waiting for that
passion, that fire to light his way toward his purpose, to light a fire in his
soul. But it had never come.

Until he’d met Indy. And that was a whole different kind of
fire.

He’d been drawn to the light of that fire, and it had only
grown brighter. She’d breathed delicious, fresh, living air into his life. And
he’d felt like he was inhaling for the very first time.

He was making the right call. He was more sure of that now than
ever.

The literal light they were following through this dark
underworld turned out to be coming from a streetlight near what resembled a
storm drain grate above the place where the subterranean passage came to an
abrupt end. The sun had set by then. A ladder with only three rungs was affixed
to the facing wall.

Tomas stepped up onto the first rung, hooked his fingers
through the grate and pushed experimentally. The thing rose without even token
resistance, because it turned out to be hinged on one side.
Who’d have thought?

He lifted it only a little, then lowered it again and looked
down at Indy. She was holding the box to her chest, looking up at him and
tempting him to get lost in her eyes again. “Ready?” he asked, indulging himself
in just looking at her.

“Yeah. Ready.”

“I have no idea where we’re going to emerge, so let’s do it
fast and hope to avoid notice.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He drew a breath, swallowed hard, and pushed the grate
up and over onto its back, rapidly climbing out but maintaining a low crouch. He
took a quick look around. They were near the boulder where they’d been supposed
to meet Father Dom hours ago. There were people around, a small crowd milling
outside the building where Jon had been found. But mostly their backs were to
him, and the boulder made for a good visual distraction. Still crouched, he
reached back down first for the box, which he set behind the rock, and then for
Indy. Her hand locked onto his, and he helped her up and out. Then he replaced
the grate. They got to their feet, brushed themselves off and looked around
casually, trying to determine whether they’d been seen.

But no one’s attention was on them.

There were four police cars parked on the grass outside McGraw
Hall, as well as an ambulance with its back doors standing open. As they looked
on, two EMT’s came out of the building, a black body bag strapped onto the
gurney they rolled between them. It jounced down the steps, but the body stayed
aboard.

“I still can’t believe it,” Tomas said.

“It doesn’t make any sense. There’s no reason for the demon to
target him. He’s not a priest, and he might have been about to give us exactly
what the demon’s supposedly waiting for. A way for me to get that amulet.”

Tomas knew she was right. “We’re missing something. We have to
be.”

“I see them,” Indy said quickly. “Father Dom and Rayne. Tomas,
I don’t want Father Dom to know about the scrolls we found. At least not
yet.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Please?”

“He’s going to see the chest.”

“Not if you give me the car keys right now,” she said.

He swallowed hard, then nodded once and handed her the keys.
She took them and went jogging over the rolling lawns, taking the shortest route
to where they’d parked the car.

He dragged his eyes from her and turned his attention back to
the crowd. Spotting Rayne, he lifted a hand and waved. Relief relaxed her face
when she spotted him, and she came plowing through the onlookers toward him. She
was halfway there before he noticed Father Dom shuffling more slowly behind her,
muttering apologies as he shouldered his way amid the throng.

As soon as she broke free and crossed the grass to meet him,
Rayne flung herself into Tomas’s arms, and he held her hard. “God, I’m glad to
see you!” she said. “I was getting so worried. I don’t know what’s happening
around here.”

Her words were muffled by his shoulder, but he made them out.
“I can’t believe the cops are still here. It’s been hours.”

“Given the bombing, they’re being extremely careful not to miss
anything,” Father Dom said. He looked around. “Where’s Indy?”

Tomas’s reality had undergone a profound shift while he’d been
underground with Indy. He realized it as soon Dom asked where she was, because
it made him tense up and feel defensive. As if Dom were the enemy.

“She went to get the car,” he said. “I was concerned about your
leg.” It was an absolute lie. He’d known Dom long enough to know his limp came
and went as suited the occasion. “What have the police said about Jon?” he
asked, to shift the subject away from Indy.

The ambulance was pulling away now. A pair of cops were making
the rounds, questioning people, taking notes. Rayne backed away from him, her
hands still on his shoulders, her eyes damp. “They’re not saying much of
anything.”

“Not to the general public,” Dom said. “One of the officers
told me—off the record, of course—that it looks like a straightforward suicide
to him.”

“He used an extension cord,” Rayne whispered.

Father Dom placed a heavy hand on Tomas’s shoulder. “The
secretary found him hanging from a light fixture in his office. No one else
appears to have been there, but I have no doubt this is yet another death on the
shoulders of He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken.”

“I don’t know,” Tomas said. “Indy was just saying how that
makes no sense. Jon was about to give us the incantation that would let her get
her hands on the amulet. The very tool he believes he needs to escape his
underworld prison. Why would he kill Jon before he gave it to us?”

“Why does a demon do anything?” Dom asked. “Maybe he’s figured
out that she’s going to give the amulet to us instead of him, and that we intend
to destroy it for all time. Maybe he prefers to let it go for now, until the
stars align again in another three and a half millennia rather than risk never
having another chance at all.” He shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. I got the
incantation.” He patted his breast pocket.

The Volvo pulled to a stop along the nearby campus road, and
Indy jumped out and trotted toward them, keys in hand.

When she got there, Tomas said, “Dom got the incantation.”

Her eyes widened as she handed him the keys. “How did you
manage it?” she asked Dom.

“This collar buys me a lot more access than your normal Joe. I
asked for privacy to deliver the Last Rites before they moved the body and took
a quick look around his desk. He’d already printed it out for us.”

Rayne frowned at him. “I never saw you go into the—”

“It was while you were still with Tomas and Indira,” Dom told
her.

She lowered her head, but her frown remained.

“What about the rest of it?” Indy asked quickly. “The text he
said was titled
That Which I Must Remember.
What
about that?”

His eyes shifted away from hers. “He hadn’t printed anything
but the incantation. I didn’t have time to look through his computer files. That
would have been pushing it.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We have the
incantation. That’s all we need.” He started heading toward the Volvo. “Samhain
is tomorrow night, Tomas,” he said with a glance over his shoulder. “We’re
nearly out of time.” He reached the car, went around to the front passenger door
and pulled it open.

Tomas was about to get in the driver’s side when Rayne hurried
up behind him, clapped him on the shoulder and held her other hand out, palm
up.

“Keys.”

He frowned.

“You just lost a friend. You’re so distracted you’re almost
walking into things. I’ll drive.”

It took him a moment, but he realized she was right. His brain
seemed to be operating in slow-mo. He slapped the keys into her palm, muttered
his thanks and got in the back. Indy was already there, and she met his eyes and
told him without a word that it was going to be okay.

He wondered how. Because he couldn’t squelch the feeling that
Dom seemed almost relieved by Jon’s death.

Dom was all about secrecy, about telling no one of the mission,
about destroying every hint of evidence once it was done. Jon was a snag in all
that. He’d seen the photographic evidence and translated it. “He’d seen more
than that. A lot more.”

“You haven’t told us about your end of things,” Dom said. “Did
you find anything?”

Tomas met Indy’s eyes, saw the plea in them, made his decision.
“No. It was a…very long wild-goose chase.”

He saw the relief and gratitude in her eyes before she shifted
her attention to Dom. “Can I see the printout?” she asked, leaning forward in
her seat.

He twisted, taking the single folded sheet of printer paper
from his coat pocket as he did, then handed it over to her without even an
argument. Tomas noticed that Indy’s hands trembled as she took it.

He wondered if there was something in that translation that
might have driven Jon to suicide somehow. But he couldn’t even imagine anything
that powerful.

Indy was unfolding the sheet, looking at it, frowning. Then she
sighed heavily. “It’s so simple.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Dom said.

Indy handed the paper to Tomas, and his eyes skimmed the
lines.

By the powers of earth and sky,

By the forces of Goddess and
God,

Return to me that which I gave you for
safekeeping long ago.

That I might restore it to its rightful
place

And reset the balance once
more.

It didn’t rhyme. It wasn’t pretty. It was simple,
straightforward, and yet somehow so powerful it made him shiver.

He looked up and met Indy’s eyes. She looked a bit
shell-shocked. And he understood. All they’d gone through, just for those few
simple lines. He put a hand over hers.

“I can’t believe we’re this close to ending it,” she said. “I
just have to say the spell, and the amulet will…what? Just magically
appear?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Tomas said, but he quickly realized that
she wasn’t asking him, and he handed the sheet over to Rayne, who skimmed it
quickly while they were stopped for a light.

“We’ll soon find out,” she said as she started driving again.
“We’ll do the spell tonight, as soon as I’ve given Indy the proper initiations.
That way she’ll be stronger, better able to handle whatever happens next.”

Indy nodded, but she looked scared to death. “Initiations?
Plural?”

“I think we’d better do all three.”

“Don’t worry,” Tomas said, closing his hand around hers. “I’ll
be right there with you.”

“No, you won’t, Tomas.” Rayne drove a little faster, as if
eager to get on with things. “The Wiccan Ceremonies of Initiation are oathbound
sacred rites, not spectator sports. You are not allowed to watch.” She shifted
her eyes to Dom. “That goes for you, too.” And then she glanced up at Indy in
the rearview mirror. “But I’ll be right beside you. And we’ll be in the safety
of a sacred circle, surrounded by the Guardians of the Watchtowers, in the
presence of the Lord and Lady. You will be safe. I promise.”

Indy nodded, but the fear in her beautiful green eyes didn’t
dissipate even a little bit. And Tomas thought he knew what she was thinking.
Sure, she would be safe during the ceremony. But what about after? When she had
to face a demon and decide whether to help him—or destroy him?

* * *

I was afraid to let the ancient scrolls out of my sight.
I couldn’t have said why, but I couldn’t even bring myself to hide them in my
room, the way I had been doing with my journal. The box, yes. I tucked that into
the back of the closet and threw a pair of jeans and a T-shirt over it. But the
scrolls themselves—I couldn’t part with those. I mean, really, how were you
supposed to truly hide anything in a house that wasn’t your own? Anyone who
cared to hunt hard enough would find it under the mattress or tucked in the back
of the closet. I could have locked it inside my suitcase, but let’s face it,
luggage locks are a joke.

I’d told Rayne about the scrolls and the words under the lid of
the box saying that they were for the Eyes of Spirit alone, which had
strengthened her decision to perform all three initiations together. I had to
take a shower, Rayne said. She instructed me to make it a sacred one, rinsing
away negative energies and vibrations, cleansing my spirit as well as my body,
in preparation for the ritual. I took the ancient scrolls into the bathroom with
me and locked the door. I would have taken them into the shower if I wasn’t so
afraid of ruining them. They were important. Ancient. And they held a message
for me.
For me.
It had been written Goddess only
knew how many centuries ago. For me.

It was mind-boggling. And while part of me was dying to take a
peek, the rest of me was embracing a newfound respect for and belief in the ways
of magic, the Craft of the Wise and even the rules of that path, though I still
believed that they, like any dogma, were man-made and therefore not to be
trusted. At the same time I harbored this superstitious belief that if I looked
at the message without being properly initiated first, something very bad would
happen.

I needed to see it with the Eyes of Spirit.

Unable to let the scrolls out of my sight, I managed to take
the prescribed shower by leaving the stall door open just enough to provide a
clear view of them resting on the counter beside the sink. Facing them, I stood
beneath the spray, sudsing and rinsing my hair and body, and then standing still
and quieting my mind. I tipped my head back and imagined the warm water infused
with spiritual light. And in a few seconds it actually gleamed gold and white,
like sparklers on the Fourth of July, showering me in purity. It wasn’t
visualization. Or imagination. It was real.