Possession of Souls (27 page)

“Thanks.  Take your time,” I replied, walking in a few more steps and surveying the store.  Rows and rows of books lined two of the outer walls as well as several free standing shelves on the left side too.  In the middle of the space was the register, surrounded by a polished wood counter that made a square, and on the right side of the room were shelves with candles, handmade soaps, and different stones and jewelry items.  Soft, soothing music floated through the air along with the calming scent of lavender, giving a natural relaxing ambience.

“Nice place,” Vance mumbled as he walked over to look at some of the books on the shelves.

“It is,” I agreed, going to browse with him.  “So what are we going to ask her?”

“I was thinking of just going with the straight forward approach, much like you did with Earl.  It will give us credibility I think rather than trying to beat around the bush looking for answers to questions we don’t know to ask.”  He lifted a book about necromancy off the shelf and began flipping through it.

“Do you think Damien is trying to raise something with these keys?”

“That’s what I’m leaning toward after Shelly’s vision,” he replied, keeping his voice low.  “Though what it could possibly be, I have no idea.”  He continued to peruse through the pages before closing it.  “I think I’ll buy this one to read on the flight back to Arkansas, just in case anything might jump out at me.”

“I think that’s a great idea.  At the very least, it looks interesting.”

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” a lovely voice with a slight foreign accent I couldn’t quite place floated around us.  “Can I help you find something?”

I turned to see a beautiful woman standing at the end of the aisle.  She had long, straight hair that was nearly as dark as mine.  Her dark brown eyes looked a little sad in her pretty angular face, which had high cheekbones any model would kill for.  She seemed like she’d stepped out of the pages of a winter catalog in her lovely, turquoise cable knit sweater, jeans, and short faux fur lined boots.

“Hi,” I said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand.  “I’m Portia Mangum, and this is my husband, Vance.”

She smiled slightly as she shook hands with each of us.  “I’m Belinda Bell, but most people just call me Bels.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Vance spoke up.  “I was wondering if we could visit with you for a moment?  We have an unusual request.”

“Sure,” Bels replied, gesturing over to a cozy area tucked into one corner, and she looked at us expectantly once we were seated comfortably.

“Please forgive me if this seems blunt or rushed, but in the interest of saving you from a long story I will just jump right in.  We’ve been trying to recover certain artifacts that are being used as keys for a certain ritual.  We don’t know what the ritual is—we’ve only been following the demon who is gathering them.  We’re trying to get these items to keep him from performing whatever ritual he is trying to do.  There’s a psychic who’s helping us, and she sent us here to talk to you.  The only information she was able to give us was that you have the artifact we are looking for, but she was unable to tell us what it was.  If it is anything like the other things that have been gathered it is probably something very old.  He’s recovered three short torches bound together with a rope, and an actual key that we know of so far.  We also know he’s in possession of books to decipher ancient texts dealing with necromancy.”  Vance lifted his hand in frustration before he dropped it back into his lap.  “I don’t know if that helps you at all, but it’s what we have.”

Bels looked back and forth between the two of us for several moments before she glanced down to her hands, which she was wringing in her lap.

“I believe what you are looking for is Hecate’s Box,” she said softly.

“Hecate’s Box?” I asked.  “What’s that?”

Bels sighed and lifted her head to look back at us.  “Hecate is the Greek goddess of witches, crossroads, necromancy, and magic.  The items you’ve described sound like her incarnations—three torches that represented the past, present, and future.  The rope they are bound with is a symbol of the umbilical cord.  With her key she unlocks deep mysteries, and with an athame she will cut through illusions to reveal true power. 

“Hecate is known as the Dark Mother, but contrary to what the name would suggest, she’s both positive and negative.  It’s said she can both inspire men to greatness and also send demons to plague them, depending on her will.  There’s much controversy in the world today over whether she is a goddess of good or evil.   I, myself, believe it depends on the spirit and intention of the person performing the ritual how her magic is used.

“Legend says Hecate made a box.  Whoever was the bearer could open it and make one request of her.  She originally crafted it for a favored servant and told him to pass it to one he deemed worthy after himself.”

“So does it in fact exist, and is it in your possession?” Vance asked.

She looked down at her hands again and sighed heavily.  “It does, and yes, it is.”  She glanced back at us.  “You understand why I’m very nervous about this relic falling into the wrong hands.  It would be a travesty.”

“We understand completely,” I said.  “That’s what we’re trying to keep from happening too.”

Bels stood and gestured for us to follow her.  “The box is in a walk-in safe I have in the back.  I’ve collected several priceless artifacts throughout the years I keep in there.”

We passed through a small supply room with several unpacked containers before we rounded the corner to see a large safe with the door standing slightly ajar.  We followed her inside, and a light flickered on over our heads.

“Well, hello kids,” Damien’s voice drifted through the space as he stepped out from behind one of the shelves.

The door slammed closed behind us.  I grabbed Vance and wished for us to be outside, but nothing happened.

Damien laughed and pointed to the white glowing crystals in the corners.  “Pesky little rocks, aren’t they?” He grinned.

Bels turned to us with tears in her eyes.  “I’m so sorry.  He was already here when you arrived.  He saw you entering the store and instructed me on what to do.  I had to help him.  He has my mother.”

One injection and a nap of an undetermined amount of time later found me in a place I’d hoped to never be again—aboard a private plane with Damien.  This trip was slightly better since Vance was restrained in the seat next to me, but the view in front of me was exactly the same as before, and I still hated it. 

I tried to call on my jinn powers, but noticed the brightening of a glowing white crystal that was hanging from a thick chain around my neck.  Leave it to Damien to plan for everything.  He was always thorough.  I had to give him that.

“Good afternoon, Portia,” he said cordially.  “I’m so glad you finally decided to join us on this lovely Samhain.”

I chose to keep my expression neutral.  I’d already played this game with him, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of toying with me again.

“Are you doing okay?” Vance’s voice whispered into my head.

“I’m fine,” I replied in the same fashion, glancing at him.  “At least as much as I can be considering we’ve ended up right where we started.”

“We’ll figure out something,” he said.  “We have the rest of the coven on our side this time around, and they’re watching his place now.”

I turned to Damien.  “So where do we have the luxury of going with you this time?”

“Back to Arkansas, of course.  Did you miss it?” He smiled before lifting his chalice to his lips, and I held in the sigh of relief that wanted to escape.

“I miss my dad.  How’s he doing?” I bit the inside of my lip to keep from spewing all the hateful things I wanted to say.

“Sean’s doing just fine.  I’ve been very pleased with his progress.”

“And what kind of progress is that exactly?” I asked, my stomach churning.

“You’ll find out soon enough.  I’m planning a nice family reunion for the two of you when we get back.”

“That sounds good,” I replied evenly, truly meaning it.  If I could get him to let me see my dad then there was always the chance I could rescue him somehow.

Damien laughed.  “I bet it does.  I’m anxious to see how it will go.”

“What did you do with Bels?” I asked feeling concerned for the shop owner who had clearly been distraught with her role in aiding our capture.

“I didn’t do anything.  She’s resting comfortably in the seat behind you.”

I attempted to look, momentarily forgetting I was restrained and unable to do so. 

Damien laughed again.  “Portia, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“But it’s so difficult to trust anything you say,” I bantered back.  “What about her mother?”

“I never had her mother,” he replied with a wink.  “I just used a little trickery to make her think I did.  It saved me a whole lot of hassle.”

Vance spoke up.  “Then why’d you bring Bels with us? What purpose could she serve?”

“That’s also something you’ll find out soon when I perform a ritual in the near future.  But you can blame yourself that she’s here.  My plan was to use Portia in the beginning, but you contaminated her when you fed her your blood.”  He shrugged.  “No worries, though.  It was a situation easily remedied.”

“Don’t hurt her,” I said, feeling guilty.

“What ritual?” Vance prodded, diverting Damien’s attention as he tried to get more information.

“Patience, son.  Save some surprises for later.”

“We already know you were after Hecate’s Box and that you’ve acquired her symbolic torches, rope, and key.  You’re going to request something—something to do with the dead if I were to guess,” Vance continued.

“I’m proud of you.  You’ve done your homework.  But I won’t be sharing the details just yet.” Damien leaned his head back against his seat and looked between us.  “The only thing I can tell you is that it’s going to be a smashing good time.”

I felt the prick of the needle before I saw it.  I didn’t even have time to see who administered it before everything went black.

Vance was already awake, holding me in his arms when I came to, and I was sad to see we were back inside the dreaded cave.

I glanced about the space and saw Damien had been busy while I was unconscious.  A large circle with a pentagram inside of it had been drawn on the smooth floor around the altar, which sat directly in the center.  There were hundreds of lit candles lining the walls of the cavern, some on the floor and others floating in the air in clusters together.  This made the room flicker with all sorts of moving shadows, casting an eerie feeling.

Bels was lying on the ground to one side of the altar, apparently still suffering from the effects of the sleeping agent she’d been given.  I figured that was probably best considering Damien obviously didn’t have good plans for her.

He was bent over another figure lying on the floor, and I jerked to awareness when I realized it was my dad.

“Hold still,” Vance warned me under his breath.  “Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“He’s my dad, Vance.  I’ve got to try to stop him.”

“You can’t get into the circle,” Vance explained.  “It’s protecting him and keeping us out.  I’ve already attempted it.  The only way to breach it is to be invited in by someone on the inside, and that isn’t likely to happen.  I think he’s completely delusional—keeps on talking about how he’ll be all powerful, and nothing will be able to stop him.  He told me about how we’ll rule side by side, like he actually believes I’ll have anything to do with him.”

“Did you tell him that?”

He nodded.

“What did he say?”

“He said I’ll have no choice in the matter.  If I don’t come willingly, he’ll make me comply with his wishes.”

“Can he do that?”

“He says he’ll be able to do anything after this spell.”

“Did he tell you what that was?”

“No, but I’m sure it’s something to do with communicating with the dead since Hecate is the goddess of necromancy.”

“How will that make him all powerful?”

“I have no idea, but he seems pretty confident about whatever it is.”

I didn’t know enough about pagan witchcraft, or any witchcraft for that matter, to even hope to render a guess.  I only knew one thing—magic was real.  No matter what religious name it was worked under, there was truth to it in every angle it came from.  And I understood without a doubt, any spell Damien was working would be dangerous to anyone who wasn’t him.  He had been out to push his own agenda from the beginning, and that was to gain more power for himself.

He knew what he was doing, and though there had been bumps in the road, his plan always seemed to work out for him in the end.  If he thought this would make him all powerful then I believed him.  He had to be stopped.

“I wonder if the others know we are here.”

“They do.  Damien says they’ve attacked the house above.  They’re battling his demon minions up there now.”

My heart sank.  “I hope they know what they’re doing.”

“He says they’ve walked into a trap, and none of them will survive.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse jumping.  “Pray that he’s wrong.”

It was up to me and Vance to come up with a plan then, and we were out of time.  I pushed away from him even as he wrestled to keep me still.  “Let me do this,” I said seriously, my gaze locking with his, but he held me firm and his grip tightened against me.  “Trust me, please.  I need to do this.”

He struggled with my request, his jaw ticking as he clenched his teeth before he finally released me.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned.  “And don’t try to cross the circle.  It will shock you if you do.”

I nodded and climbed to my feet, turning to walk to the edge.  I could feel the buzz of power radiating off it, and I knew Vance was speaking the truth.

“Damien,” I called, diverting his attention to where he was leaning over my dad.  “Let them go please.  You don’t need to do whatever this is.  Can’t you see you’re strong enough already? Please try to listen to reason.”