Books by Maggie Shayne (65 page)

"It's gone on too long," Eve whispered.

Celeste heard it all, but couldn't reply.

"She's right," Rory said. "She's been leaning over that mirror, whispering for hours, and we have no idea if it's doing any good. Meanwhile, he's still lurking around out there, doing God knows what."

"No, he's not."

Both the other women turned to stare at Skye.

"He's not out there anymore," she said. "I don't feel him. He's gone."

"Where?" Rory asked.

"I don't know. He's…beyond my range, I guess."

Eve sighed, and moved to the sofa where Solange sat in Celeste's body. She put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Celeste, we need you back here now. Solange, let her go, okay? This isn't doing anyone any good."

The eyes that looked up at Eve were not Celeste's. But Celeste felt them smile. "Yes, you're right," Solange said. And then suddenly, Celeste's body went limp as something solid was stripped from it. She sagged on the sofa, stunned, weakened.

"Celeste? Honey, are you all right?"

Her cousins' hands were on her, shaking her, helping her. She sat up straight, blinking her eyes into focus, and noting that Solange sat beside her on the sofa. Was she more transparent than before? Thinner, somehow?

"Celeste?" Eve leaned close, shaking her gently. "You okay?"

Celeste met her cousin's worried eyes, then smiled. "Not really. How about you call me a paramedic?"

Eve returned her smile. "Nice try, but your paramedic isn't here for a reason. We all decided the men would be safer away from all this."

"I know. But if he could have seen what just happened…" A hint of sadness washed through her, but she reminded herself that she had more important things to worry about here than her own validation.

Celeste turned to Solange. "What did you learn?"

Solange looked at her, then at each of them in turn. "My time here will soon be over. At sunrise, I will be reunited with my Jonathon, and together we will have to move on, into the afterlife."

The girls exchanged glances, each more worried than the one before. "But Solange, we need you here. We need you to help us defeat Darien," Celeste whispered.

"You have me. I live, in each of you. Celeste, my power to speak to the dead lives in you. But don't use it only to speak to the dead, or channel their words. Use it to call on the ancestors of the Deveaux line and to channel their power. The magical force of every witch in our ancestry is yours to wield, if you but ask."

She blinked in shock, stunned that this could be true.

"Eve," Solange went on. "My power to convert energy into physical force exists in you. But don't just use it to move objects. Use it as the force it is. A force field of protection, a blast of invisible might, a beam of light in the darkness. Don't limit yourself to moving objects. A witch who wields magic can change anything in the physical realm — its shape, density, visibility, anything."

"My God, can that be true?" Eve asked softly.

Solange turned then to Skye. "Skye, like me, you can read the minds of your enemies and of strangers, yes. But has it occurred to you that not only can you read the thoughts of your cousins, you can send your thoughts to them, as well? You didn't know this, I know, and it is a skill, but I have every confidence you can do it. Because of your power, the four of you can communicate without making a sound. You can call for help, send out warnings, communicate with anyone at any distance. Do you understand?"

Skye nodded slowly, her eyes expressing awe.

"And you, Rory, your power is not limited to weather alone. That's just the first visible manifestation you've noticed. It is my power, alive in you, and the one I first learned to master. It is the power to command the elements — earth, air, fire and water. You can use it for more than just rain and wind. You can use it to create, to destroy.

You need only realize there is nothing in the universe that is not made up of those four basic elements, and engendered with life by the fifth — that of spirit. You can create at will. Make a mountain by calling on earth, a sword by conjuring ore and fire. You can do anything."

She stood and moved into the center of the room. "Between you, you have all the powers that I had. Like the pieces of the Stone, you four need to come together, to realize you are limited only by your own minds, to work as one, in order to defeat Darien, and to save the love in your lives."

Celeste blinked. "But we've…already done that, Grandmother. We've found love, each of us."

"I know," Solange said, lowering her eyes. "Unfortunately, so does he." She looked toward the window. "And that's what he will use to force you to come out of the protection of this house. The men you love."

"He's gone after the men?"

Solange nodded. "Where did you leave them?"

"At a hotel in the French Quarter," Celeste said. She looked at her cousins, and as one they said, "The Biltmore."

"We have to go! God, if he hurts Ben…" Celeste's heart froze over at the thought of Ben facing the biggest evil she had ever seen. "If he hurts Ben, he's going to wish he'd stayed made of stone."

"You're not ready," Solange said. "You have no plan."

"We can't wait, Solange." Celeste reached out as if to take her ancestor's hand, even though the touch was one that could never be. "The men we love are in danger. There's no time for thinking, for planning. Only for action."

"Does Darien have any weakness, Solange? Any flaw we can make use of?" Eve asked.

Solange lowered her eyes. "His craving for power. And…his love for me."

The four cousins went silent, and stared at their forebear with their eyes wide. "He…loved you?"

Solange nodded. "As much as he was capable of loving anyone," she said. "But to him, love meant possession. Ownership. Control." She looked at each of them. "That's not what love is. But you know that. That's why you're rushing out of here without preparation. Perhaps — love can be enough. I didn't believe it was. But if I had…"

"Can't you come with us, Solange?" Eve asked.

She shook her head. "Without one of us here to maintain the circle's energy, he might find a way to break through and take the Stone."

Can someone find me a dress?" Celeste asked. "One like the one Solange is wearing?"

The cousins exchanged glances, as Celeste began to wind up her hair.

* * *

The cousins joined hands, met each other's eyes, then looked at Solange. "We won't let you down," Rory promised.

"See to it you don't."

"Just keep that stone safe until we get back."

She nodded. "Until dawn."

"We'll make it back on time."

Solange moved to the table where the Stone of Power sat surrounded by her tools, and leaned over the scrying mirror. "I'll watch you from here, and stay in contact through Celeste." She looked up at the four of them, standing hand in hand. "You can do this. I know you can."

With a nod, they headed out.

* * *

The Biltmore was empty. A crowd stood on the street, surrounding the aged building while flames leaped from every window and licked at its outer walls. Fire trucks surrounded the entire place, and the four cousins joined the crowd of onlookers. Celeste had put on a long coat, to cover the long dress she wore. She'd glimpsed herself in the mirror, and had been so startled by her own appearance she'd nearly cried out. She was the image of her great-grandmother's portrait.

Skye closed her eyes. "The men are inside the hotel. All of them, and him — he's there, too."

"We have to get inside."

Celeste heard Solange whispering to her. "She says to shrink into ourselves, to become one with the things around us. She says we can create an illusion of invisibility."

"Right," Rory said. "We're just going to turn invisible. Even if we could do that, how the hell could we walk through fire unharmed?"

Celeste recited the words Solange spoke into her mind. "We can't burn. We're ice." Then she repeated the phrase, over and over.

One by one the others joined in. Celeste focused on Rory, on tapping into her power, joining her in mastery of the elements, becoming ice, becoming transparent.

As they chanted together, a heaviness settled over them, a state of relaxed, limitless potential. She saw her cousins' eyes change, felt their breathing change, was certain they were all breathing as one, in fact, and that their hearts beat in a single powerful rhythm.

They focused, they drew in, they quieted their minds and tried to become the things they saw. Rory moved her arms and drew a shield of smoke around them, further blocking them from notice as they moved past the firefighters. She waved another hand and the wall of fire parted to allow them through. And they did it — they moved right past the police and firefighters and through the doors into the hotel lobby, and there was no hint there of flames or smoke. Inside the hotel things looked as normal as ever.

"What the hell is this?" Eve asked.

Skye said, "He's keeping the fire on the outside. It's to keep everyone out. He won't let it inside to destroy anything until he's ready."

"Where are they?" Celeste asked.

Again, Skye focused. "Third floor — ballroom."

Yes. Do come up. We've all been waiting.

"Hell, he knows we're here," Rory said.

Skye shot her a look. "You heard that?"

Rory's eyes widened. "God, Solange was right. We can tap into each other's powers."

Celeste led the way, and they trooped up the stairs. She could feel the fear shivering along her spine, and more than that, she could feel it in her cousins, as real and clearly as she felt her own. But she felt their determination, too, their love for their men.

And then she felt Ben, heard his thoughts through Skye's mind. He was wishing to God she would stay away, that she wouldn't charge in here, believing herself some kind of witch who could save the day. This guy had real power, and Celeste could get hurt, or killed.

She saw the look Skye sent her, but didn't acknowledge it, didn't indicate whether she had heard the thoughts. She saw Skye's surprise at knowing Ben didn't fully believe in Celeste's capabilities. It didn't matter, she told herself. She loved him, and she knew he loved her.

Then they were there, in front of the ballroom's arching, double doors. With a wave of her fist, Eve flung them open.

The scene that opened out before them was gut-wrenching. Tables were overturned, chairs broken and scattered like matchsticks. Shards of glass lay everywhere, and the crystal chandelier was demolished on the floor. A man lay pinned underneath the weighty mass, struggling to lift it off him. And Rory's cry of "Luke!" told them all who he was. Skye's focus was on Nic, who lay crumpled in a corner, blood trickling from his nose and mouth, unconscious, and Ben was bending over him, trying to help. Travis lay still and motionless near a wall. Outside the windows, flames raged and smoke billowed. But none made its way inside.

It was surreal.

Rory said, "Eve, get the chandelier!" Then she waved her own hand even as Rory turned toward the fallen crystal, and it hurled itself across the room, smashing into a wall.

In the center of all the destruction, Darien stood. And it was Celeste who walked up to him. "Let them go. Your business is with me, Darien."

He looked at her, his eyes widening. Across the room, Ben turned to look at her, too, and his face was etched in a frown.

"Solange?"

"Darien, all this is unnecessary. Please, it's between you and me. We can settle it — together."

"You don't love me," Darien whispered, not moving a single step closer. He didn't back up either, though, as Celeste moved closer. "You never did. It was always him."

"I've had a long time to think about that," she said softly.

Darien narrowed his eyes. "You're trying to trick me."

"I —" She reached for him.

"It's too late!" He whirled and sent her sailing across the room with a blast of magic. Her back slammed into the wall and she sank to the floor, hurting everywhere.

"Celeste!" Ben shouted her name and raced toward her, cradling her gently, stroking her hair from her face.

She blinked up at him. "It's all right. I'm…all right."

"Celeste," the wizard mocked. "I should have known. It's amazing how much you look like Solange."

She struggled to her feet, Ben helping her. "I don't just look like Solange. I am Solange. We all are."

Darien frowned.

Then she heard Skye's voice in her mind.
He's going to blast you!

And even as Darien hurled a bolt of power at her, Eve flung her own arm, and a polished silver tray sailed upright and hovered, weightless, in front of Celeste. The bolt hit it and bounced right back on Darien, who smashed into the wall behind him.

"You're weakened, Darien," Celeste said, striding forward. She waved a hand, testing out Eve's telekinesis, and the tray was flung aside to land on the floor with a clatter. She heard Ben wonder what the hell he was seeing here, through Skye's ESP.

"It doesn't matter. Even weak I'm more powerful than four novice witches."

"But we're not four," she replied.

"We're one." They said it all together, and Celeste thought Solange's voice was with them.

"They say this hotel is haunted," Celeste said.

"They say every hotel in the French Quarter is haunted," Darien replied. "So what?"

"Let's see if they were telling the truth about this one." She lifted her arms. "Spirits of the dead! Rise up and lend your aid to the cause of good! We, the descendants of Solange Deveaux, call on you to rise up!"

The others came closer, raised their hands and pressed their palms to Celeste's and to each other's. Eve looked at the floor. "Open, floor, and floors below, open earth and realms below, open portals to the Underworld!"

A great gaping black hole opened in the floor, one that seemed bottomless.

"Holy mother," Ben whispered.

"You got that right," Celeste said. Then she looked at Rory. "The dead say they need form, substance to help them take shape."

Rory nodded. "Fogs, mists, rise and swirl! Elements of water and air, give shape to the spirits!" she cried.

And then it happened — from the hole, shapes emerged, forms, ghosts, rising and swirling.

Rising to his feet, brushing himself off, Darien shook his head and smiled. "Nice parlor trick, my girls, but what can a few ghosts do to harm me?"

"Depends on the ghosts," Celeste said. Then raised her voice, and it sounded more powerful even to her own ears, than it ever had before. "Ancestors, mothers of my mothers, grandmothers of my grandmothers," she intoned. "Every witch that came before us, I call on you now to come to the aid of your children! Lend us your power!"

Eve flung up a hand, and the roof split and cracked. Rory called up the wind, and it blew completely away and the entire room filled with wraiths, women, ancestors. Witches!

"My God, there are so many of them!" Skye cried. "Do you see them? Do you?"