Spiritbound (18 page)

‘Beatrice from the healing centre said you might and we’ve got nothing else. She said there was something foreign affecting my mother’s mind.’

Grace sat down on the sofa, thoroughly puzzled. ‘Beatrice Standish, the healer, recommended me?’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t even realise she knew I existed. How would she know…why would she think…?’ Grace looked at the doorway where her mother had wandered. Elvira had been holding out on her.

‘Will you come? That’s all I’m asking.’

‘Of course, I’ll come and I’ll do what I can but I fear I’ll be relying on my mother and Beatrice because I have no idea how I can help. Seeing your mother dislikes me so much, I really doubt that I can.’

He squeezed her hands gently and then leaned down to kiss on her on the forehead. ‘Thank you. I knew you would. You mother is going to transport herself. I can take you on my bike. Is that okay?

‘Yes, sure. Give me a few minutes.’

Grace poked her head into Elena’s room to let her know they were heading out. Elena frowned. ‘You’re going to help heal his mother? Do take care. I have a feeling that it’s not going to be as straightforward as expected.’

‘Is that your talent or general scepticism?’

Elena shrugged. ‘A bit of both. I just have a bad feeling’—She placed her hand on her stomach—‘here.’

Grace had a similar feeling but she was so out of kilter with seeing Declan again, she couldn’t see or sense clearly. ‘That might be coming from me. You know I always transmit my anxiety to you. Or it could be because you’re going to eat all the macarons by yourself and know you’ll be sick after.’

Elena laughed and rubbed her stomach.

Fel jumped up on the bed and meowed eerily.

Hold on to that tom
, Fel thought at her.

Grace frowned. She could take that two ways.
I’ll try
, she thought back.

Elena rubbed its ghostly substance between the ears. Grace stared at the cat, expecting another sage or sarcastic comment, but it looked at her and meowed again, sending chills up Grace’s spine.

‘Did Fel talk to you again?’ Elena asked.

Grace nodded.

‘That’s not fair. It’s my cat. It should talk to me.’

‘Hear that, Fel? Be nice to Elena.’

Fel flicked its tail and sauntered away.

‘Snob,’ Elena said to the departing cat.

Grace shrugged. ‘I’d better go. I’ll call you when I know something.’

Elena twisted her hair up into a knot. ‘Okay. Takeaway pizza tonight!’

Grace shook her head. She wasn’t even out of the house and Elena was indulging in junk food. She was incorrigible.

She received a parting hail from her mother as she brushed her teeth. ‘See you there. Don’t take long and be careful.’

Grace stewed over those words, seeking something underhanded. There was something very cloak and dagger about all this.

‘I’m ready.’ Declan wasn’t in the living room as she came down the hall. She heard the revving of the motorbike and realised he was ready to roll. She marched outside and received a grin and a helmet. In no time they were off, back to the Blue Mountains where they’d spent their first night.
Mustn’t think about that now. Particularly while you have your arms wrapped around all that man
.

Grace had time to think on the way out to the health centre. Declan was troubled. It was clear from meeting him again and from holding him. He was pretty good at keeping a lid on his thoughts and feelings, so much wasn’t leaking through. A sense of relief and hope flowed through him, knowing that she was coming to help. That was rather daunting, considering she’d not healed anyone before. She was good at sensing people, detecting if they’d been hexed, but surely Beatrice would have been able to pick that up and deal with it herself.

Grace took in the landscape whizzing past—the rows upon rows of houses and the grey blue of the mountains growing larger the further they sped down the Great Western Highway.

When she climbed off the bike, she was a bit stiff. Her legs were not very cooperative so she stomped on the spot and massaged her lower back. Declan put the gear away in the panniers. The sun was setting and the view to the city and across the large tranche of bush took on a peachy hue. It was a majestic spot. A little too prone to bushfires for Grace’s liking, but the mountains had a fantastic vibe, as if goddess and earth met there.

They walked around the path, through neatly tended gardens to the front door. To a casual observer it was a large, historic house. To the coven, it was a place of healing.

‘You really should learn to transport yourself, my dear.’ Elvira gave her a kiss on her cheek. An older woman with greying hair tied up in a bun and wearing a flowing dress in brown cottage print stood behind her.

‘This is Beatrice. You probably don’t remember her very well.’

She had a flash of insight and Grace remembered childhood images of this woman touching her. She recalled her smile and light spirit. ‘I don’t remember you well, but I do have some vague recollections from when I was a child.’

Beatrice smiled, revealing startling, white straight teeth. ‘You have grown up to be so beautiful. You are full of light and love.’ She touched a finger to Grace’s cheek. ‘You have your father’s dark complexion, but I see Elvira in you too. You have her sparkling eyes, and probably a great deal of her wit too.’

‘Thank you for the compliments. I’m at a bit of a loss to know how I can help.’

Beatrice lowered her gaze. ‘Perhaps we can talk in private.’ Grace stiffened as Declan sucked in a surprised breath at the attempt to exclude him.

‘Perhaps somewhere where we can all sit down comfortably?’ She turned to include Declan.

‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ he said. ‘I have to pop in and see my mother and let my father know you are here. He may want to listen in on your discussions.’

Beatrice and Elvira shared a look. ‘Of course, come into the lounge. There’s no one else about. I suppose I should organise food too. It will be a long night.’ Beatrice closed her eyes, and Grace felt a slight tingle as the older witch sent a message to someone, probably the kitchen staff.

The lounge room had a large leather lounge suite with enough space to seat ten people. The curtains were still parted, the dark velvet invoking the Victorian era. Photos graced the mantelpiece and one wall was stacked with bookshelves. Grace sighed as she sank into her seat. She wanted one of these leather couches when she settled in her own place.

A young witch came in bearing a tray. ‘Thank you, Jessie.’ Beatrice turned to Elvira. ‘My granddaughter.’

Elvira nodded and smiled as the girl walked away. Beatrice passed around tea in dainty cups. Grace took hers. While she didn’t pry into all her mother’s interactions, she’d never heard her speak of this particular old healer witch and as far as Grace knew, Beatrice hadn’t come to the house, not in recent years. Yet, there was an obvious connection between them, a fond friendship.

‘Now, about Delores.’

Declan came in at that moment. Elvira indicated a seat. ‘We were just starting. Tea?’

Declan waved the tea away. Grace detected his increased anxiety. He must be extremely stressed for her to detect it from where she sat.

‘Is your father joining us?’ Beatrice asked.

Declan shook his head. ‘He is staying with my mother for a bit longer.’

‘Right then,’ Beatrice said. She took a long drink of her tea and set the cup aside, then she folded her hands across her lap and looked at them in turn. She cleared her throat. ‘I believe that Delores is suffering from an infestation.’

‘Infestation?’ Grace blurted.

Elvira lifted her hand, signalling for quiet.

‘I think it’s a fragment of er…how do I say this…a spirit.’

Declan sat up straighter. ‘You’re talking possession.’

Beatrice shrugged. ‘Not quite a possession. At least, that’s what I think. Something is troubling her, eating at her. It was hard to detect, to make certain, but I got a sense of something else there. Like the scent of bad meat.’ She turned over her hands in a helpless gesture.

Elvira made eye contact with Grace and then inclined her head. Grace swirled her tongue around in her mouth while she considered what they were saying. ‘You think I can connect or in some way detect this spirit fragment, if that’s what it is?’

‘Yes, darling. That’s what Bea thinks.’

‘And you?’

‘I think you have the talent and the strength for this.’

Grace thought about the rules she’d been taught. She’d need permission but even then it skirted on outlawed. Declan picked up her hand. ‘Please, Grace. Try.’

‘I have your permission? I mean, I can’t imagine your mother would or could give it to me.’

Declan nodded and squeezed her hand again. ‘I’ve spoken to my father and he has given his permission for you to assist.’ He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘Grace, I would love to have my mother whole. Please help her.’

Grace extracted her hand. ‘I can only try. I hope the coven is cool with this because contacting dead things is not something they’re keen on.’

‘We are both here to watch over you, dear,’ Elvira said. She stood up and turned to Declan. ‘You do realise that this may not work. Grace may not be able to help your mother. I am not being pessimistic, but I think you should be prepared. There is a risk of harm, if this fragment is too integrated into your mother.’

He nodded. ‘I am. Beatrice said it was a chance only. The alternative is to have her locked up in a mental institution with no hope of recovery.’

‘Then let’s do it,’ Elvira said.

‘This way,’ Beatrice said as she got up and went to the door. ‘Declan, it would be best if you took your father for a walk or something. Elvira will hail you if there is any news.

‘But…’

‘It’s best this way. Believe me. We’ll take good care of your mother.’

Declan frowned and shifted his gaze to Grace. He mouthed a
thank you
and turned to leave the room. Grace followed her mother and the healer. She had no idea what she was to do, but obviously her mother thought she did.

A hard light bathed the room in glare. Grace sheltered her eyes. ‘Can you dim that a little?’ The light lowered.

In the few weeks since Grace had seen Delores, she’d grown thinner. Her hair was straggly, hanging down her shoulders, and her eyes were ringed in grey shadows. Meaningless words flowed past her lips. She was oblivious to her surroundings. Or was until Grace approached. Delores stiffened, then her feet banged against the mattress and her jaw clenched as breaths were sucked in with desperate heaves.

‘Interesting,’ Beatrice said.

Grace spared her a look. ‘Frightening. Why is she doing that?’

The pair of them said nothing. ‘It’s me, isn’t it?’

Her mother tilted her head to the side and shrugged.

Grace shut out Delores’s reaction and drew closer, using her witch sense to peer inside her. A lot of bad emotions writhed there, caught in some kind of vortex that churned them, tying them together. Yet that wasn’t what was making her ill.

Grace sent her gaze deeper and caught motion at the edge of her perception. Was that a snake? Or a worm? She wiggled between the swirls of hatred that curled around Delores’s centre. There she positioned herself, trying to blend in with the surroundings. It wasn’t going to work, but waiting would give her time to acclimatise and also to act. There it was again. A fleeting presence. She almost detected it, identified it. Beatrice was right. It was foreign.

Elvira spoke to her, mind to mind.
Can you see it?

Yes. Briefly. But it slips away and hides from me
.

Grace stayed quiet in Delores’s essence, waiting for that thing to return. Out of the blue, the attack came. It was like being smothered with a blanket of hate. Grace struggled at first, having underestimated its furtive nature. It tried to infiltrate her then faltered. Elvira attacked it, ripping at it and trying to drain it. Next thing she knew, Grace found herself on the floor. Declan hovered over her.

‘What?’

‘You cried out. I heard you.’ Declan helped her to stand. ‘I was outside in the garden. You called to me. I’m sorry.’ He ran his fingers through his hair and shrugged when the others gaped at him. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have done that.’

Elvira and Beatrice shared a look. ‘No harm done,’ Beatrice said.

‘Thank you, Declan.’ Her eyes sought her mother. ‘Well?’

‘I don’t recognise him.’

‘Him?’

‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me everything? You suspect a particular spirit fragment, don’t you?’

Declan stroked her back and glared at the two older witches. ‘You think it’s Elroy, don’t you?’

Beatrice made herself taller, shaking out her shoulders and straightening her spine. ‘I entertained the possibility. Grace, what did you detect?’

‘It’s hard to say, exactly. It appears to be male. That is what I sensed from it. I get the sense that it was once one of the folk. It had a strong connection to Delores.’

‘Try again, dear. This time I want you to touch it. We need to know more so you can extract it.’

‘Extract it? Touch it? It near smothered me. It acted like I was the enemy, like it wanted me dead.’

The healer scratched her chin. ‘Interesting.’

‘Interesting? Is that what you call it? Downright freaky if you ask me.’

‘We are here to protect you,’ her mother said calmly. ‘Go on, dear. I’m getting hungry.’

Grace snorted. ‘Right. Hungry. I get it.’

Grace let her talent unfold, this time bringing her hands to Delores’s head, not quite touching. She found this helped her focus. The presence was waiting for her this time, no longer hiding. It rose up and whacked her. Her knees buckled, and strong hands held her around the waist. Declan.

The contact with the fragment was more tangible this time. It definitely had a strong bond to Delores. There. It was discernible now. It was young, but its sense of identity was blurred. Grace had to be careful because she didn’t want to bring it across to life, like she had the cat. She wanted to untangle it and send it packing. It aimed for her again and Grace drew in her senses, pulled back on her talent and sagged against Declan.