Autumn Calling (6 page)

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Summer said as she
clapped her hands together, releasing any loose dirt, and brushed
pebbles from her knees. She threw the ball as hard as she could.
With glee the giant puppy leaped over a cross-shaped tombstone and
nearly ran into another, before bounding back to her for another
throw. This continued for a good fifteen minutes or more until she
found the hellhound pup taking longer and longer to retrieve the
ball. This was a sure sign he’d had enough for the time being, and
he plopped down on the ground, chewing on a discarded branch from a
tree—the bigger and drier, the better. She teased the pup that he
was better than any wood chipper, and much cheaper.

The day faded, and the darkness and shadows
invaded the landscape where it had once been bright and glorious.
Unable to continue in the garden, Summer headed back to the cozy
cottage with Sully at her heels, stopping first at the shed to put
away tools. When she came out, she saw a dark figure of a portly
man in a hat lurking about the perimeter of the property.

Sully heard a branch crack beneath the man’s
foot and stormed off in the direction of the intruder. Summer felt
sure any man seeing a giant hellhound with glowing eyes, smoke
pouring from his nostrils, and flames spouting would be prompted to
seek safety on the outside of the property. Summer wasn’t
worried.

With the land tucked against the woods, they
sometimes did have people mistakenly find themselves on the
property. Sully wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t try to hurt him
first, so she was confident he could take care of himself and
headed back to the cottage.

She found Daniel on the porch, leaning
against the doorjamb looking incredibly handsome. He was a welcome
sight and she greeted him with a smile and hug, before they entered
the house.

“It’s good to see you,” she said. “Can I get
you anything?”

“No, I’m good. How are you feeling about
Sister Mary Louise?”

“Better, though I feel maybe I should have
told the police when she first went missing.”

“You told me you weren’t too worried about
it. That you had assumed she’d gone on a trip.”

“That is what I thought, but maybe if I
hadn’t jumped to that conclusion, she might still be alive.”

“You can’t second guess what Father’s path
is for his children. There are too many possibilities. You’ll make
yourself crazy or sick.”

“Maybe, but can’t help feeling guilty about
it.”

“Well, try harder. She would not have wanted
you to burden yourself with such ideas. You know this.”

“I do. It’s just,” Summer said, flopping
onto the couch.

“You must. It’s not good for you, and you
have such weight on your shoulders as it is.”

With her eyes she agreed with him, but it
didn’t change the ache in her heart.

She pondered that a moment and said, “Tori
and I had to talk to the police today.”

“Really? What about?”

“They just had questions about Sister Mary
Louise.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Like when was the last time we spoke to
her, when did we see her last, that sort of thing.”

“I suppose they are trying to find the
perpetrator.”

“Yes. They think her death is very
suspicious.”

“Do they? I expect that’s quite
possible.”

“You think? Who in their right mind would
kill a sister?”

“There are plenty of people not in their
right mind in this world, and many who make it their ambitions to
rid the world of what they deem unacceptable.”

“But she’s a nun. How can being a nun be
unacceptable?”

“For thousands of years religion has always
been a topic for debate among humans, and sadly, the cause of
wars.”

“I guess you’re right, and you would
certainly know.”

“I certainly would.”

* * *

After a moment of silence she said, “I was
hoping maybe you could help me with something.”

“If I can.”

“Well, it is something that you’ve told me
in the past you would not reveal to me.”

“Oh,” he said with regret.

“But I was hoping under the circumstances,
you might discard your normal protocol just this once.”

“Hmmm. What circumstances are we talking
about here?”

“Well, I’ve tried several times to talk to
Aunt Myrtle about the necklace I found in the box.”

“I’ve already told you too much about that.
I had assumed your Ms. Midnight had informed you of your twin, but
when I saw your face and realized she hadn’t, I knew I had
overstepped my bounds.”

“Yes, I know you feel you have, but there’s
more to it than that.”

“Oh?”

“As you know, Aunt Myrtle has times when she
is lucid and as normal as anyone else, but whenever the subject of
Grandma Ivy or my sister comes up, she falls into some kind of
incoherent babbling or outburst.”

“Then maybe you should talk to Mortimer. He
should be able to give you the information you need.”

“Have you met the man? He is not very
pleasant. He barely has the patience to converse with me long
enough to try and learn some new spell or incantation, let alone
speak of something personal, especially of a time when he was not
imprisoned in a cat’s body for heinous magical crimes I still don’t
understand.”

“I see.”

“I think it’s clear to see there is no one
else who can tell me what happened to my family. I only have bits
and pieces, and it seems that if I have to go to war with my own
family, I should know how this all came to be and why I have a
sister I’ve never met.”

“I suppose that does change things a
bit.”

“I think so. So will you tell me what
happened?”

“Where is it you would like me to
start?”

“How about with the birth of my sister and
me.”

“You were born first, by two minutes, ten
seconds. Your given names are Eliane, you, and Lunette Macabre.
Toward the end of the pregnancy, your mother found it harder and
harder to see what it was she saw in your father that made her fall
in love. She wondered, as her father Henry had suggested when they
were scheduled to be married, that a spell may have been used. He
fought very hard to keep them from being married, but he fell ill
days before the wedding and died the day before.

“Ivy suspected his death was not from
natural causes and was quite sure the Macabres had been behind it.
The wedding went on as planned and within three months of marrying,
your mother Violet found herself with child. Though Ivy was
thrilled to find out she was going to be a grandmother, she
couldn’t help but wonder if this had been the Macabres’ way of
acquiring the Midnights’ powers in fusing the genes of the families
together in a child.

“After a couple of doctor’s visits, it was
announced they were not having one child, but two: twin girls. With
frequent visits to the Macabre mansion, Ivy found her daughter to
be more and more distrusting of her new husband, Marcus. So much so
that when she was nearly ready to deliver, she asked her mother to
help her concoct a plan to help her get herself and the girls, once
they were born, out from under the thumb of Marcus, and the rest of
the Macabre mob under the rule of Jaqueline, the matriarch.

“With the help of Myrtle, they devised a
plan that went terribly wrong.”

“How?”

“Jaqueline must have suspected something was
up. She instructed the family to never leave Violet alone with her
mother. Once you girls arrived, Myrtle showed up hoping to distract
the Macabres with her surprise visit and Ivy took the brunt of the
magical assault that followed.

“On Ivy’s death bed she called for me to
come to her side and asked me to watch over you.”

“Why just me and not Lunette?”

“Because Ivy had a ‘plan B’ in place if the
first had failed. She knew the first born, even if only a few
seconds, would receive more magical powers than the sibling. Plan B
was this: if they couldn’t get you girls and Violet out safely,
then the first born must be taken, for having the both of you would
be catastrophic to anyone who wields magic. For the Macabres crave
power; they always have. And with you girls on their side with the
more powerful Midnight magic within you, they would use you both to
strip the world of its magic to boost their own.”

“That’s awful.”

“It is and it was. The war that ensued
between the Midnights and Macabres that night is written in the
magical journals as one of the most powerful and horrific displays
ever recorded. In the end, there were many deaths on both sides.
All the Macabres died that night except Yvonne, Marcus and his
sister Juliette.

“On the side of the Midnights, Ivy and
Violet lost their lives, and though Myrtle got you out and hidden,
she didn’t escape their damage. Her fits, as you call them, started
shortly after, as did the decline of her powers. It was a sad day
for magic, but Myrtle saw to it that you were well cared for. She
recruited Ivy’s best friend’s daughter to join the order and watch
over you at Holy Cross.”

“Where was Morti in all this? He’s a
Midnight. Why didn’t he fight for his sisters and their
families?”

“He couldn’t. The BROOM wouldn’t allow it.
His punishment for his crimes forbids him from using magic and
forces him to live out his life as a familiar. Though I will say,
it is believed that he had a hand in Rene Midnight’s death when
Violet’s father ‘mysteriously’ became ill. Rene was suspected of
having a hand in his ailment, and just as mystifying as Henry’s
sickness was, Rene inexplicably fell to his death the day after
Henry passed.”

“The BROOM never charged Morti for that
crime did they?”

“I think given the circumstances, the BROOM
turned a blind eye to the ordeal.”

“What circumstances?”

“It was the Macabres who reported Morti’s
crimes even though it was found they had a hand in the crimes
themselves. Morti did what he did out of love for Yvonne Macabre,
Marcus’s great-aunt. She played him and strung him along as long as
it benefitted the Macabres, and as soon as Morti was no longer
needed they reported him as being the sole perpetrator.”

“I suppose the does explain why he’s such a
grumpy old coot most of the time.”

“What’s a coot?” Daniel asked.

“Um…an eccentric old guy?”

“Ah, yes. That would most assuredly describe
Morti.”

“So are there any ‘watchers’ like you
watching out for Lunette?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“I don’t know. I just seems like she got the
short end of the stick when it comes to the Midnights.”

“Maybe, but remember, there’s only Myrtle
who isn’t always coherent, and Morti who can’t use magic or be
anything but a cat.”

“I guess. I just feel kind of bad for her,
having been raised by such awful people, and all without a mother
to at least commiserate with.”

“You didn’t have a mother and you turned out
okay.”

“Yes, but I had Sister Mary Louise, the
other sisters and Tori…and you, of course, looking out for me,” she
said with a smile.

“True, but Lunette has her father and her
aunt. I’m sure her life hasn’t been too horrible.”

“Maybe. I wonder though. If Marcus only
married Violet in an attempt to blend the two families’ magic, how
good of a father could he possibly be?”

“I couldn’t say, but I imagine any father
who loves his child would not bring harm to her.”

“I hope so, for Lunette’s sake.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Lunette or think of
her as your sister. Having been raised by the Macabres, she’s being
trained to either bring you to their side or kill you. Either way,
she’s not your friend.”

“Really? So you think she knows we’re
sisters? That despite being siblings, they’re coaching her to
annihilate the Midnights even if she is part Midnight?”

“Yes. You wouldn’t be in training yourself,
if it weren’t so.”

“It’s just such a sad state of affairs—all
this fighting and death for what? Magic? Until recently, I didn’t
even know magic existed, and I survived just fine.”

“Humans have killed for a lot less,
Summer.”

“I just wish we could all get along. We have
so little family left on either side.”

“Some humans are raised with one agenda. For
the Macabres, it’s to attain more magic at any cost. They can’t see
past that plan or see the big picture of life around them. Once
something is ingrained in you to that degree, it’s very hard for
you to change that path, even if you would like to. The Macabres
have been on this path for several generations. The roots of this
greed is deep seated and not easily cast off. Some might say even
impossible.”

“I’m not saying it would be easy or even
achievable. I’m just saying it would be nice to have this all turn
out differently than it seems to be heading.”

“I agree. It would be lovely to see things
work out less grim.”

“Thank you, Daniel, for filling me in on the
details. I know it goes against what you would normally do. I just
want you to know I appreciate you doing so.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m starving. Do you want to get something
to eat?”

“That would be interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Well, angels don’t have to eat, so I’ve
only done it once in a while to be sociable.”

“Then you definitely have to try pizza and
beer.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do, if you want to hang with
me.”

“Well, then, I guess we best be going right
away.”

“Yes, we should. I’ll drive, since I doubt
you’ve ever done that.”

“Nope, but those motorcycles look like a lot
of fun.”

“Oh, there will be no crotch rockets for
you, mister, if you want to be around me.”

“Crotch rocket?” he said, raising an eyebrow
in curiosity.

“That’s right. You heard me. I’m sure it’s
exhilarating and fabulous, but the way I see young men riding those
things, it makes me think they have a death wish or they want to be
an organ donor. At least a car gives you a buffer between you and
the asphalt as well as airbags and seatbelts.”