The Awakening (47 page)

She came forward, crying out.

“Great Bac-Dal! Tonight, we serve you. We offer you flesh, blood, and carnal pleasure. We implore your coming into our world! And first, we offer up the sacrifice of the flesh!”

Finn fell silent again, horrified as he saw two of them break away from the fire. Finn felt ill. There was Morwenna, hog tied on the ground. As the newcomer spoke, she grabbed up a knife at the end of the altar, and walked toward Morwenna.

“No!” Finn roared.

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!” Mike Smith breathed in terror at Finn's side.

As the newcomer brought the knife to Morwenna, the newcomer grasped the Morwenna's head, dragging it up so that the newcomer could slice her throat.

But then she paused, casting back her cowl with pride.

It was Aunt Martha. Attractive old Aunt Martha, who had claimed that she didn't believe in evil, then pretended that she had to admit to something, and that she was trying to help . . .

The pride and gloating on her face were incredible.

From the altar, Megan screamed. It was a terrible cry, rising in the night. It was horror, protest, revulsion, fear . . . and fury.

“No!”

Martha laughed.

Father Brindisi was reading from the book of exorcism, begging God to cast out evil demons. Jade led half of them in chanting from a book of spells.

“Fools!” Martha raged in a loud, clear voice. “Fools! You think you have power! Vampires, you are but the refuse of the earth! Bac-Dal, your moment has come! You have entered the servant of your vessel, Finn, the descendant of the man who has delayed your coming.” She cackled out a laughter so chilling that Finn felt goose pimples rise on his flesh. “Finn, He is in you, and you will come forward!”

A rush of fire filled him, just as if he had really been lit on fire. He could hear nothing then, only a chanting like a music, pulling him forward.

The fog swirled on the ground. Swirled from his own feet. Someone touched his arm, and he shook off the hideous restraint with the power that surged through him. He walked forward.

Jade threw salt before him, seeking the power of the earth to hold him. He knocked her aside. Father Brindisi raised a cross above his head, gibbering away in the name of God.

But he stepped from their circle, ripping off his coat, freeing himself from the material of his shirt.

They were touching him. The women were touching him. Lauding him, praising him. They kissed his flesh . . . fell behind him, their lips falling upon him even as he walked away, falling upon the earth where he had stepped. Blood thundered and raged through him. He felt a hunger, unlike anything he had known before.

And a surge of desire . . .

To kill.

Take the knife, rip open the woman's throat. Drink her blood, bathe in it, and then . . .

The prize on the altar would be his, in a new life, one of raw carnal pleasure and sheer power. The world would fall to his feet.

“Come, great Bac-Dal! Take the blade, and we will share in this woman's blood, and when it is done, the mortal coil will be yours, and youth will be mine, as my soul, ever ready to serve your least desire, shall root within the youth and beauty upon your divine altar!”

 

 

Morwenna was shrieking for her life, fighting the hands that held her. Megan strained wildly against the ropes that bound her, shouting, screaming until she was hoarse. She could hear the priest, his words growing more desperate, and she could hear the others, their voices rising in the spells of nature and the earth . . .

Another voice entered into her mind. Not a voice that tried to rise above the others, just a voice in her head.

It was Lucian's voice. And she knew, no matter what the power of their supernatural friends, she and Finn had to fight and win this battle. Bac-Dal might have blocked much of the “sight” that the vampires usually had, but still, they had known somehow, suspected Martha, even. But it had to have come to this, to her, to Finn.

And so she did.

“Finn! For the love of God,
Finn!”

The knife was in his hands. It was he now who had Morwenna by the hair, jerking her head upward so that the blade could easily access the white flesh of her throat.

“Finn, dear God, dear Lord,
Finn!”

He let go of Morwenna's hair. He turned to Martha, and smiled. He walked to the altar where the priest remained at Megan's side.

“Joseph—you asshole!” he said clearly, scornfully. Then he sent his arm flying, knocking Joseph to the side. He raised the knife above Megan. His eyes met hers.

The sacrificial weapon came down, slicing the ropes that bound her to the altar.

Joseph came to his feet with a roar of fury, racing toward Finn, who was taken off guard, and the two went flying to the ground together. Martha let out a cry of anger as well and came racing forward, anxious to grab the knife.

Megan saw her running toward Morwenna, still tied and vulnerable.

But Martha couldn't reach her because there seemed to be a flurry of darkness, and Lucian was at her side, wrenching the knife from her.

Screams rose from everywhere.

Megan leaped up from the altar, then staggered and fell—her ankles were still bound. She struggled to free herself.

Mayhem seemed to have broken out.

She clawed the ropes from her ankles and stumbled up. Joseph lay flat on the ground, knocked unconscious. Megan grasped the wooden altar for the strength to stand. As she did so, she saw Gayle Sawyer come running forward, an oak branch in her hand. She was ready to crash it down with all her strength on Finn's back.

Megan found strength. Twisting, she jabbed her fist into Gayle's stomach with all her might. Gayle screamed and fell.

Megan looked down at her, and wrenched the branch away. “Guess what, bitch?” she said softly. “You'll never touch him—in any way!”

She felt a whir of air behind her and spun around, the branch now raised as a weapon in her own hand.

It was only Mike Smith, handing her his coat to cover her nakedness. She smiled at him. White as a sheet, he tried to offer her a smile.

Sara, across from the bonfire, started to shriek, tear at her hair, and run into the woods. They wouldn't get far. A whir in the darkness, a flap of wings . . .

Those who ran would quickly be caught.

Theo Martin was raging that he was still a cop, and he'd see that they all rotted in jail. He didn't speak long, though, because Ragnor just shook his head in disgust, and went over to flatten him.

It was just the mop up. The main battle had been fought, and won. And now, since their friends had such unusual power, the end would be quick and clean.

But then . . .

There was a terrible cry of rage.

Martha had risen again. And she had retrieved the sacrificial blade. She went rushing at Finn.

“Help him!” Megan shrieked, seeing that Lucian was striding around the pentagram on the ground, destroying it, and its power.

He'd never have time to reach Finn.

Yes, God, please!
She thought. He was a vampire, he could reach Finn . . .

But he didn't need to. Finn was ready, kicking out and hitting Martha's arm.

They could all hear the crack of bone.

The knife flew up, and down. Finn caught it, and grabbed hold of Martha, bringing it to her throat.

But there he paused.

“No,” he said softly. “You will
not
make a murderer out of me.”

He tossed Martha from him. And then, the copse was silent. Some of their enemies had run, and would be easily caught.

A few were lying dazed or unconscious on the dirt of the forest.

Lucian had freed Morwenna, who had first dissolved into a flood of tears, and then risen in silence.

Finn turned to Megan. And he came across the forest floor, as he had in dreams. He reached the place by the altar where she stood. And he pulled her to him, gently, tenderly. They just stood there, holding one another.

She started to shake. Then she whispered softly. “They saved us! A priest, and a pack of vampires, and a werewolf, and their wives!”

He pulled away from her, just barely. Enough to see her eyes.

“Dear Lord, yes, they helped. We wouldn't be alive without them. But you saved me, Megan. I heard your voice, when I could hear nothing else.”

She smiled, allowing herself to fall against him.

She was vaguely aware then of Morwenna, still shaking, wrapped in someone's huge coat, and walking, shaking still, until she stood over Joseph.

“You pathetic, jealous, dickhead, prick!” she cried, and kicked her husband's fallen body. Megan thought that her cousin was going to collapse.

But she didn't. She lifted her head and turned toward the circle where Father Brindisi now stood in silence.

“I'm so sorry, Father Bridisi, please, please, forgive my language!” she said with dignity.

Father Brindisi grinned. “God forgive me, Morwenna, but I was thinking along the exact same lines!”

They heard the sound of sirens in the night.

“Cops,” Mike Smith managed to say.

“You have mental power?” Finn asked him, grinning.

Mike shook his head. “Cell phone. I thought it was time we called them.”

“And time a few of us slip away,” Lucian said. “You are all right now, right?”

“I think,” Finn said. “We'll all be all right—if the woods don't catch fire.”

Lucian turned, kicking dirt upon the bonfire. “Help me,” he told Finn.

Finn joined him. It seemed, as the dirt flew up and fell upon the flames, that fog, not smoke, rose above it.

And for one terrible moment, Megan thought that she could see the burning eyes and horns of the demon, Bac-Dal, outlined there, in the fog.

More dirt fell upon the flames.

Smoke rose, and dispersed, and the fog was gone. An eerie sound seemed to rip through the night.

Something like a scream. A cry of pain and rage.

Fading, as the remnants of fire became nothing but ash.

And then . . .

The strange shriek in the night was gone.

There was only the blare of the sirens heralding the police vehicles that were coming quickly now, roaring through the night.

“Put your money where your mouth is!” Sean Canady told Finn.

“You bet I will. I see your quarter, and I raise you fifty cents!”

“Wait a minute, will you!” Jade said. “I'm still in this game.”

“And me!” Megan said determinedly.

“Sure,” Sean said, still staring at Finn. Neither man noted the others at the table; they were intent upon beating one another.

Jade tossed her money in. “Gambling. It becomes such a silly testosterone thing for them!”

“Read 'em and weep,” Sean said, throwing his cards down. “Full house.”

Finn smiled, the thrill of the challenge hard in his eyes. “Four tens!”

Sean swore, casting down his cards. Finn started to rake in the change.

“When will you boys ever learn!” Jade groaned. “I happen to have four ladies.” She started to reach for the change.

Megan laughed. “Well, you've all got me beat. I was in it for the bluff. Jade, take it away.”

“Excuse me, will you?” Morwenna protested. “I have, beyond a doubt, the winning hand. The aces—all four of them, my friends.”

They all sat back and stared at Morwenna. Sean looked at Lucian, who had folded early, then at Finn.

“Can you imagine? Four queens in one hand, and four aces in another, in the same damned game? How the heck did you manage that, Morwenna?”

“Witchcraft,” she said serenely, taking in the change.

Megan laughed, rising from the table, and beckoning to Finn. They were out at Maggie's plantation, close enough to home, but . . .

They were staying with Canadys for the next week or so. It was good to be with trusted friends, for the moment. Especially in such a plantation house. They had plenty of room.

And Morwenna . . .

She had really needed a break from home.

“We're going to take a breather on the balcony for a minute,” Megan told the others. “Finn, er, wants a cigarette.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Thought you wanted me to quit completely,” he said.

“I do. But . . .”

They walked outside. A month had gone by. For the two of them, it had been a good month. But Megan worried about Morwenna, who had later told her that she had never even suspected that Joseph had hated the empowerment of her coven, and loathed her for the power she'd had in the community.

Not only had her husband been betraying her with the women in the coven she hadn't known existed, he had left her to commit murder in Boston, come back with the blood on his hands, and she hadn't even known. And then, of course, he had tricked her into finding out where Megan and Finn were.

Not to mention the fact that he had intended to make her a blood sacrifice to his demon god, Bac-Dal.

But Morwenna was thriving in New Orleans. She had decided that she wasn't going back to Massachusetts. Not to live.

“So . . . why are we out here?” he asked her, sweeping his arms around her and pulling her to him.

“Just to feel the night breeze.”

“Ah.”

“And . . . I was thinking.”

“Yes?”

“No one really understands what happened. With Father Brindisi's testimony, it came out that Joseph and Martha were Satanists who had formed a coven to force others to submit to their demands. And Martha is dead now,” she said, her tone bitter. Rather than accept her defeat, Martha had hanged herself in jail before the day had ended.

One way or the other, she had intended to be done with her “earthly coil” that day.

Joseph, the police had decided, was a psychotic lunatic.

And the others . . .

All would be tried for attempted murder, and for complicity. Every single one of them faced long jail terms. The news coverage on the “cult” had been sensational, and so, since the trials were still coming up, the exact venue had yet to be decided, but mostly likely, they would be moved elsewhere in Massachusetts.

They knew that they would have to attend as state witnesses. They didn't know where or when as yet. For all offenders, the future boded dim.

Except for Lizzie, the Great Dane. She now had her own doghouse on the Montgomery plantation, here in Louisiana.

“What are you getting at, Megan?”

She smiled. “Not now—not right now—but I want to go back.”

He arched a brow to her.

“New England is one of the most beautiful places in the entire world. And despite the tragedies that have occurred in Salem, there's something special there as well. Terrible things have been averted, too. I want you to see my home as I really know it, filled with splendor and history and wonderful things! I got a letter from Mike, too.”

“I hope he's doing very well,” Finn said sincerely.

“He's been spending a lot of time with Father Brindisi—he's thinking of going to seminary. But what's important is this—Andy Markham has come out of his coma. I have to go see him, Finn. And thank him.”

“We have to go see him, and thank him.”

“Then, there's Mr. Fallon. He's been very ill, and could use some visitors. He worked with Susanna every day, and just thought that she was a nasty bitch! Apparently, when she was arrested, he had a breakdown. So we should see him.”

“Of course.”

“There's also Adam Spade, just another nice guy. Adam has taken over the store for Morwenna, because she's not sure when she'll go back. We should check in with him.”

“We should.”

“I spent some time with him, but I'd really like to thank Father Brindisi again myself. And what's really important is that . . . I want what I love back. I want the beauty, the fun, the respect for true Wicca . . . the belief that people around me are just living, going along like the rest of us, and not all part of a conspiracy. I need that back. I'm not letting a core of evil ruin my home for me, and everything that is so wonderful about it.”

“I agree!”

“So . . . we have to go back.”

Finn pulled her tightly against him.

“Whenever you want!” he said softly.

“Really?”

“You bet.”

She leaned against him happily. Sometimes, she still doubted herself all the things that had happened. It was all too impossible. But then again, she was very good friends with a number of vampires now, people who insisted that she and Finn were really part of their Alliance. Vampires. And a werewolf, of course. Different, but not to be forgotten.

They were just so damned
normal.

“But for right now . . .” Finn murmured.

“Yes?”

“I'm having this vision . . .”

“Oh?”

“There's a great expanse, and I'm trying to cross it. And I'm on fire, because I know that you're waiting. There's a feel in the air, like a caress, and I'm hungry, starving, I have to reach you.”

“Like a demon lover?” she murmured, joking uneasily.

He shook his head, smiling. “No, just like the man who loves you more than life itself... and of course, wants you right now with every bit of
natural
but ardent, fevered, passionate, lustful desire in his very human body.”

Megan smiled, feeling his fingers moving lightly, insinuatingly, down her ribs.

“Let's go say our good nights, shall we?”

There was no fog that night as they left the balcony.

And later . . .

He walked across their darkened room to her.

And he was everything. The man, the perfect man, who loved her. Which was all they had needed, Lucian had said.

There were many powers on earth.

None as great as the power of love.