Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (42 page)

Pierre handed the woman a large carpet bag, and she placed it on one of the steps. With a click, she opened the top and pushed her arm inside, rummaging around the contents. Seconds later, she pulled out four herb bunches tied together with a purple ribbon, and she held her hand to Pierre for a lighter.

“I need you three to stand in the circle like the guardians of the east, west and south. I will represent the guardian of the north.” She clicked her fingers impatiently, her brow furrowed. “Please, take your places.”

Freya looked at the circle, not sure what to do next, and Julie pointed her to the space where she was supposed to stand. Marie-Claire lit one of the herb bunches and handed it to her. Then the old woman lit a second and handed it to Pierre, the third she gave to Julie, while she kept the fourth for herself.

“I call upon the guardians of the north watchtower. You are the powers of the earth both generous and divine. Please protect this north gate and guard all within this circle. Thank you. I welcome you.”

Marie-Claire waved her herb bundle in the air, creating fragrant smoke rings. Freya coughed slightly, the scent of the herbs making her mouth dry. When Marie-Claire was still, Julie moved her herb bundle and spoke in a loud clear voice.

“I call upon the guardians of the east watchtower. You are the powers of the air both generous and divine. Please protect this east gate and guard all within this circle. Thank you. I welcome you.”

Freya felt a hint of panic; she was the next in line, and she had no idea what to say for this spell. She knew nothing of magic.

“Say the words with me, Freya.” Marie-Claire spoke in soft, comforting tones, and her mind pressed against hers, causing Freya’s muscles to relax. She opened her mind as she had before, and felt the consciousness slip into her, but only on the surface.

“I call upon the guardians of the south watchtower. You are the powers of the fire both generous and divine. Please protect this south gate and guard all within this circle. Thank you. I welcome you.”

Her mind cleared, and Marie-Claire left her feeling empty as she retreated from her consciousness.

Pierre spoke last: “I call upon the guardians of the west watchtower. You are the powers of the water both generous and divine. Please protect this west gate and guard all within this circle. Thank you. I welcome you.”

Marie-Claire stepped into the middle of the circle and spread her arms wide.

“Guardians of the watchtowers of earth, air, fire, and water, allow me your power and protection tonight. Thank you. I welcome you.” The temperature changed, the air now feeling hot and dry. Some invisible force wrapped itself around her shoulders, and the blood rushed to her cheeks.

“We are now safe to cast our spell.” Marie-Claire gave a curt nod at no one in particular. They extinguished their herb bundles; Julie took Freya’s from her grip and placed the burned out remains beyond the circle of salt. Pierre moved near Freya, pulling her further into the middle, and he grabbed one of her hands while Julie took her other. Marie-Claire stood across from her, holding hands to close the circle.

“We summon the gates to the eternal hereafter. We call upon the light. We call upon the darkness. Reveal yourself to us, and to those who walk this plane past their welcome. We ask you to take these weary souls from this plane and let them follow the right path.”

Freya watched, a little uncomfortable and unsure of what to do, while all three people around her closed their eyes and threw back their heads. The three voices spoke out in unison.

“
Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos,

Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite Aradia.

caeli Deus, Deus terrae,

Humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus
.”

The words meant nothing to Freya, she felt she should say something, join in, but she couldn’t. Nerves tickled her stomach, and she had to suppress an anxious laugh.

“
Cernunnos ipse truderit virtutem plebi Suae,

Aradia ipse fortitudinem plebi Suae.

Benedictus Deus, Gloria Patri,

Benedictus Dea, Matri Gloria
.”

The words rang with power, and though Freya wasn’t speaking them, she could feel every intonation vibrate through her bones. She would never have even dreamed that magic was real a few short months ago. It was as if someone had removed a veil from the world and revealed its hot energetic core. Her life would never be the same after what she had seen, and Freya wondered for the briefest of moments where she would go from here.

A rush of air filled the room, hot and dry, like a desert wind, and there was a magical pull. Freya opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder. The wall behind her looked almost translucent, and a very faint light emanated from it. It was nothing like she’d expected. Freya had envisioned an actual portal or a brightly lit hole in the centre of the room, like in horror movies. This was different. At the same time, she could feel the intense magical pull of the portal, and her soul longed to pass through to the other side.

“Now we must draw the souls here and guide them to the light.”

“How do we do that?”

Marie-Claire’s expression hardened, showing a hint of darkness that made Freya’s knees weak.

“That’s the tricky part, dear. We have to lure them here.”

“How?”

“Bait.” It was Pierre who answered the question, and he gave her a dark grimace.

“Well, that’s comforting.” Freya sat down and wrapped her arms around her head. The thought of luring angry spirits made her want to give up on the whole endeavour, but then she thought of Logan and Oliver, and she knew she had no choice.

“I’ll serve as bait.”

“As will all of you, dear. I will be here to act as a guide.”

“Tell me what I have to do.”

***

He could hear them in there… chatting, chanting, whatever the fuck they were doing. He didn’t care. They’d killed the house – Oliver was sure of it. They had ripped out its beating magical heart, its beautiful soul and its actual being… and they had obliterated it. He couldn’t feel it anymore. The voices had stopped talking to him. A deep, unsettling emptiness had made itself master over his soul.

The house had spoken to him one last time, right before it had died. At that moment, the house had shown him everything it had ever done. Every drop of blood that had been spilled on the ground crossed Oliver’s mind’s eye, and he felt as if he had been there. Each murder, in a way, was committed by his hand. He had been in this house for many generations, from the very beginning, in fact. His body had been different, but his soul had been the same, he was convinced of that. The sacrifice he longed for had already been made, over and over again. He had been not only the living but the dead in the house, and everything had always come from him. He knew that now. The house and he had been merged throughout his many lives. Oliver never believed in reincarnation, but Angel Manor had given him proof.

And then it died. He had felt the house retreat from his soul, letting go of it and leaving it cold and empty. He had held Anne in his arms when her spirit was rudely torn from the magic of the house. He had seen the desolation in her eyes, and he had felt anger. She had left him then, pulling away from him as her body lost its solid form. He wanted to hold her close, to savour the metallic taste of her lips again, but he knew he couldn’t. Anne’s power had come from the house, and now her strength had weakened too much.

Someone would pay for this, for murdering Angel Manor, for taking Anne from him. He knew just who to get. Perhaps if he could stop them, he could restore the house once more and bring back his connection with Anne. After all, he had bonded with this house. It was his now, not Freya’s…
His
.

***

Ruben felt a nagging throb in his arm, and his chest was tight. He needed to get himself and the young man out of the basement, but his mind wasn’t working clearly. His vision was blurry, and he thought he’d seen that girl… the one they’d lost in the suicide forest.
What was her name again? Marie-Claire, what was the name of that girl?
The house pulled at him, begging him to join it, but he felt it slowly dying.
I’m dying too… my heart, it can’t stand what I’ve seen here today.
The girl stood and reached out her hand to him, and Ruben felt a moment of utter peace as he took hold of the translucent fingers.
I’m free now, I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye, Marie-Claire. How I did love you.
As Ruben’s soul left his body, the house died a violent death.

***

There was a hint of light in the cooling air, the first sign of dawn. Logan opened the van with trembling hands and helped the shocked Mason inside. The boy’s skin was so cold, and if it hadn’t been for Terrence, Jim and Gary, he would have driven the young man straight to the hospital. But Mason’s shock would probably not kill him, while the others might not be so lucky if they didn’t get a chance to escape.

And then there was Freya. He knew he couldn’t leave her, and in his heart of hearts, he would gladly sacrifice all others if it meant saving her, but she had explicitly forbidden it. She needed to do what she needed to do. Logan understood that, but he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t want to be macho about it, but he felt very protective over Freya, even if it was out of purely selfish reasons. He wanted her. He had done ever since he’d met her, and that night in the attic had only strengthened his desire.

The winds picked up as he made his way back to the house, determined to find Terrence and maybe the others, and to be at least close to Freya. Hard gusts of warm air slammed against his body, and he fought against the elements. It surprised him that the wind was warm, hot even, and dry, unlike the winds he was used to in Scotland. The air was charged with electricity, and for a reason he couldn’t explain, Logan felt the need to look back. The moon was full, and it shone over the poppy fields by Lucifer Falls, bathing them in soft light, showing off the dark, gaping maul in their midst. Light flashed from the hole, as if there was a storm brewing underneath the earth’s crust. The sight of the sharp veins of light made him breathless, and Logan watched with a growing sense of unease as the light became brighter.

A long streak of lightning shot across the valley, up into the sky in an elongated arc, and crashed into Angel Manor. Logan fought to catch his breath as he ran towards the house, his heart beating so loudly he thought it might give out at any moment. Something was happening inside, and he knew he had to get to Freya.

***

What is this place?
For a moment, Bam thought she had entered the afterlife, but then she realised she was still underneath Angel Manor.

“Bambi…” Chuck sounded out of breath, which was ridiculous because he didn’t need to breathe. Bam felt as if she were trying to wade her way through a room full of water. Nothing around her was clear, and the darkness was so vivid she almost mistook it for light.
Is this the light we are meant to move towards?
she wondered, but she knew it wasn’t. This was no portal to the afterlife. She didn’t know what this place was, but she could feel that the Manor had taken a lot of its power from here.

“Bambi…” Chuck was near her now. She turned to him and saw a dreamy expression on his face.

“You have no power over me, Chuck. Not here.” She placed her fingertips on his shoulder and pushed him away gently. He staggered as if he were drunk.

“We’re trapped here, Bambi.” His speech was slurred. “You and I together. You have no power here either.”

“I am as trapped as you are.” She looked up at the ceiling. “We can’t get out until someone opens that latch. But it doesn’t matter because you can’t hurt me. This place won’t allow you to.”

Her own words were as garbled as Chuck’s were and her vision blurred. This place was almost too much for her. It was difficult to exist, and she wondered how long she could manage to hold herself together. She hoped it was longer than Chuck could.

***

Terrence stared up at the stairs. The figure of his brother sat at the top, leaning on his knees and staring down at him. He couldn’t see the other ghosts anymore, but it was only Tyrell that mattered. Part of him had not yet accepted that his brother was dead, and he still believed in his heart of hearts that the house might be playing a trick on him. “What do you want from me, T?” He didn’t even care anymore that the white guy was there; he just wanted to talk to his brother.

“I don’t know anymore, bro. I thought I did. I wanted you dead, here with me. The house… it wanted you.”

“It doesn’t anymore?”

“No… maybe… I don’t know. I don’t feel the hunger I felt anymore. I just feel lost now.”

“Are you really T?” Terrence hoped that the spirit would deny being his brother, that he would be able to go home and pick up his life again.

“What do you think, Terrence?” Tyrell looked up at him, his eyes sunken into their sockets. “Do you think I’m your brother?”

“No… yeah. I think I do.”

“There’s something about this house, bro. I told you this before. There’s something else here.”

Terrence felt the skin on his back erupt in little goose bumps, and his stomach dropped. He looked at the white guy, who sat with his back against the wall. If he was paying attention to the conversation with Tyrell, he didn’t show it. The man had his eyes closed and he appeared to be either very deep in thought or sleeping.

“You mean like those Angels?”

“No mate, something worse. They’re protecting something, those Angels. They’re here for a reason, but I can’t quite tell what. It’s bad, though, I’m pretty sure of that.”

“You’re making no sense, T. I don’t know what to do with this.”

“I think my time here is drawing short. I hear them calling for me, little brother. And when they do, you and I will never speak again.”

Tears welled up in Terrence’s eyes, and he felt a painful lump in his throat.

“I don’t know how to live without you.” A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, hot and salty.