Chapter Thirteen

“He can hear you,” I hiss to Kristy as we walk through my yard.

“I know vampires have excellent hearing,” she whispers back. “Are you sure having him here is a good idea?”

“You would have been digging up a body with me if he wasn’t.”

She scrunches up her nose. “Okay, I’ll give him that. You know how I feel about rotting bodies.”

I laugh and loop my arm through hers. The twins are ahead of us, and Lucas is following behind, keeping a respectful distance. “And really, it’ll be nice to have someone keeping watch for anything while we dive into this. Our attention is going to be tunneled on one thing, and one thing alone.”

“You trust him?” she asks.

“Yes. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Kristy nods. “If you do, then I do.” She squeezes my hand and gives me a we’ll talk about this later look. The smell of the rotting body hits us well before we get to the clearing.

Nicole waves her hand in front of her face. “Oh, my God. That is awful. Can I spray Febreze on him? I’m going to throw up from the smell.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “No, Nicole, you cannot Febreze the corpse before a dark ritual. That’s desecration.”

“Once we get started, you’ll forget about the smell,” I tell her, though I have no idea if it’s true or not. It’s wishful thinking on my part. Because this body is ripe.

“Are you sure he’s not too far gone?” Nicole gags as she looks at the body. “He’s missing fingers.”

“We don’t need his fingers,” I remind her. “Just a few answers and then it’s lights out for him again.”

“You’re doing it, right?” Nicole’s eyes widen.

“Of course she is, sister,” Naomi takes Nicole’s hand. “It’s her spell.”

“This was actually your idea,” I remind them and set my basket down. I glance up, seeing Lucas lean against a tree several yards back.

“You came to us,” they both say at the same time.

“If this affects witches,” Kristy says, being the voice of reason. “Then it’s on all of us. Got it?” She might claim to be a peaceful person, but damn, can she command a room. “Now let’s get serious, okay?”

I open the basket and get out the salt and pour a circle around the body. Nicole was right about him smelling. It’s all I can do not to gag, and the sight of him isn’t any better. I’m sorry, I think to him. If we can get answers, then this will all have been worth it.

Even I know that’s a bullshit line. None of this was worth it to him. I still don’t know who he is. Did he have a family? A job? What about pets? Maybe he had a cat who’s starving and lonely, waiting for his owner to come home.

Kristy places crystals along the salt, and Nicole lights the candles. I grab the bottle of wine and hold my hand over it, magically pulling out the cork. Naomi sets the bowl of herbs down right outside the circle.

“Ready, ladies?” I ask, heart beating a little faster.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Nicole answers, looking at her twin, who gives her an encouraging nod.

“Then let’s take our places.” I move to the north point. The herbs and wine are behind me.

“Sisters,” I start. “Descendants of Salem, daughters of night. I have brought you here to partake in this Dark Rite. Together, we shall call upon our Mother Hecate and ask her to lend her great power to breathe life back into the dead. We seek answers only the shadows can give, answers to protect our kind. For we are the chosen few who can walk in the light and the dark.”

“We are witches. Sisters within the circle. As we are, so mote it be,” we all say together, raising our hands to the dark sky above. Feeling a rush of power go through me, I grab an athame and the wine glass.

“And now we cast our circle, offering you, Dark Goddess, the gift of blood and wine.”

I press the sharp end of the athame into my skin, drawing another line in my arm right next to the cut I made to get into the Covenstead. A bead of blood forms on the surface of my skin, and I carefully pick it up with the athame, holding it over the wine glass. It drips in, and then I wipe the athame clean on my shirt and pass it to Kristy, who’s at my right-hand side.

She does the same thing, slicing open a small patch of skin on her arm and putting a drop of blood into the glass. Nicole follows suit and presses the tip of the athame into her index finger. She squeezes it over the glass, letting one drop fall in before passing both the glass and the ceremonial dagger to her sister.

When the glass comes back to me, I raise it to the moon. “Blood to blood,” I start. “We call unto thee, Hecate. Hear us.”

Carefully, I set the glass down and grab the bottle of wine, filling the glass halfway to the top. I hold it up to the moonlight, feeling power rush through me once more. Then I bring the glass to my lips and take a tiny sip before passing it along the circle.

Once the glass of wine gets back to me, I hold it out in front of me and step forward, kneeling down beside the corpse. Tipping it ever so slightly, I let a small amount spill out onto the corpse’s mouth. It runs down his rotting cheeks, dripping to the ground. The air starts to vibrate around us. Putting the glass down, I move back to my spot in the circle and pick up the herbs.

Closing my eyes, I gather my composure. Taking a few deep breaths, I make sure I’m centered with the earth.

“Sisters!” I hold the bowl up over my head. “It is time!”

The others unfold a piece of paper, revealing the final chant we need to do in order to invoke the powerful goddess, Hecate. The wind picks up, bringing with it the pungent smell of death.

“Let us speak freely and as one,” I say, feeling the bowl start to warm beneath my fingertips. I hold it up to the moonlight until it starts to smoke. I set it down and put the lid on it, trapping the smoke inside.

The flames on the candles around us grow taller, holding steady despite the wind. I unfold my own piece of paper and flick my eyes up to the other witches. Giving a tiny nod to signal the start of the spell, we all begin chanting at the same time.

“Invoco te Hecaten dea noctium. Offerimus tibi ipsi, et quod sanquis et vinum donum. Spiro vitam in mortuis. Eum cito pallium, ne transire copulare quodam vivos magis.”

A high-pitched screech rings out above us. Kristy jumps and Naomi jerks forward.

“She’s here,” I whisper, and a tingle goes down my spine. “I can feel her. Sisters, step in.”

I let my paper drop to the ground and pick up the bowl of herbs. It’s warm, and if it weren’t heated by magic, it would burn my fingers. “Breathe in the smoke,” I tell them, holding the copper bowl over the corpse. We all lean in, and I take the lid off. Smoke wafts into our faces, and I inhale as deeply as I can.

Right away, the magic takes effect. The world around me starts to fade to black. Everything goes silent.

And then my ears start ringing.

The world comes back into view, only this time I’m seeing everything as though it’s bathed in red light. The sounds of the forest resonate through me, echoing at a high-pitched frequency.

I drop down to my knees, setting the bowl down at my side. I pitch forward, hands landing on the dead man’s head. I press my fingers into his rotting flesh, leaving little indentations from the pressure.

“Redi a terra mortuorum.”

I stand, and we all step back to our places on the circle. “Awaken,” we chant together. “Awaken. Awaken!”

I feel like I’m not quite on this plane of existence anymore. That I’m in the land between two worlds, stuck inside this blood-painted veil.

“Awaken,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes and holding out my hand. Nothing happens. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to break out of this weird mental state. But the harder I try, the deeper I get sucked in until I feel drunk from it. That nothing else matters and the forest starts to fade from view.

“No!” I push my foot down against the damp soil, feeling the earth beneath me. I tip my head to the night, breathing in deep. I squeeze my eyes shut. I will not let this take me over.

“Sky above me,” I whisper. “Earth below me.”

I open my eyes and stare at the body.

“Fire within me.”

Something flashes through the forest and suddenly, the man sits up, gasping for air. Sucking in a startled breath, I freeze. Everything echoes around me, and it’s as if the others are moving in slow motion.

The rotting holes on the man’s face begin to close up. His dead, gray eyes regain their color, and he throws his head back as blood begins pumping through his body once more.

“Holy shit,” Kristy mumbles. “You did it, Callie. You brought him back.”

I inhale, fingers shaking. “Don’t be afraid,” I tell the man and move closer to him.

He looks around at us, hazel eyes wide with terror. Seeing the candles, the salt line, and the bowl of smoldering herbs, he starts to freak out.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he yells and scrambles to his feet.

I hold out my hand and push him back to the ground. “I can’t have you doing that.”

“Who are you…where am I…fuck!” He brings his head down to his hands. “What is happening to me?”

“It’ll all be over soon,” I tell him. “Just answer a few questions for me.”

“What the fuck?” the guy yells, bending his knees up. He pulls at his hair and starts to rock back and forth. “Who are you? What are you doing to me?” His head jerks to the side and he looks down at himself. He’s dirty, clothes stained with mud and blood.

And though he’s looking more alive, he still smells like someone who’s been dead for days and buried deep within the earth.

“What is your name?” I ask, inching forward. The man screams and covers his head. “What. Is. Your. Name?” I repeat slowly, starting to feel for him.

“I don’t think he knows,” Kristy says quietly. “His energy is pure chaos.”

“Well, yeah, he’s been dead,” Naomi retorts.

“Dead?” He sucks in air but doesn’t take in any oxygen. I’m not sure if he needs it or not. “I’m…I’m dead?”

“Way to go,” Nicole hisses. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that he’s dead. Or was dead? Is he alive? He looks alive. But he doesn’t smell alive.”

“This is a fucking trip.” The guy pulls on his hair some more. “A fucking bad trip and I’m going to wake up and I swear to God I’m never touching that shit again.” He holds up his hand and sees his missing fingers. “Oh fuck. What…what…what did you do to me?”

“You need to calm down.” I hold up my hands, inching forward. “I can help you.”

The guy rounds on me, eyes wide. Then he tenses and jerks away. “Wait…I…I know you. You killed me!” He freaks out completely, thrashing and falling over. He gets up to make a run for it but hits a magical wall of energy, unable to leave the circle.

“No, I didn’t kill you. The demon inside of you did. I tried to help you.”

He tries again to leave the circle and fails. Giving up, he falls onto the ground and starts screaming for help.

“You need to stop,” I say through gritted teeth and hold out my hand. A surge of energy leaves my fingers, hitting the guy in the chest. It reverberates through the forest, shaking the trees around us. “Like I said, I’m here to help. But first, I need something from you.”

Striding forward, I put two fingers on his neck, feeling for a pulse. It’s weak and thready, but it’s there. I wait, counting the beats. One…two…three.

I push my way into his mind, getting a flash of him walking out of a building. The words Anderson Consultants is written in bold, white letters on the glass door behind him. Someone is watching him, I can feel it.

“Why you?” I ask. “Why did the demon pick you?”

The man gets into the back of a town car, and before it’s even a mile away from his office, he’s pulling out a bag of white powder from inside his jacket pocket. He needs it to function, needs it to make him feel anything but numb.

Demons prey on the emotionally vulnerable.

Then I feel it, the same emptiness and fear the man did. Tears run down his face. He’s drunk now, and voices whisper so quietly behind him that he thinks they’re coming from inside his own mind. The demon has been there for months, manipulating him. Breaking him down and making him convenient.

The demonic energy is oppressive and suffocating. It’s heavy and is slithering through me, cutting me from the inside out. Each movement is like razor blades slicing my internal organs. I’m bleeding, but I’ll never die.

I pull my hand back and look at the man again.

“Do you know his name?” I ask.

The man looks down, shaking his head as big, fat tears roll down his face. “I can’t…I can’t speak it. He’ll come back if I do. He’ll take me to…to him.”

“Him? Someone worse than the demon who possessed you?”

“Yes.”

A chill runs through me. “Do you know what he wanted?”

“He…he was looking for something. Someone, maybe. All I know is they were afraid of it.” He closes his eyes. “They…they said it shouldn’t be.”

“Who?” I press, heart hammering away in my chest. “Who are they?”

The man opens his mouth to speak but then coughs up dark, sticky blood. He falls to his knees, gasping for air.

“I think that’s enough for now,” I tell him and extend my hand. “Somnum.” He gently falls to the ground, fast asleep. Blinking, I step back. The world is still red. Everything still echoes around me. I can’t see anything past the circle, and I’m not sure how to break out of this.

“Callie,” a deep voice calls out from somewhere in the night.

I jerk my head back, looking for whoever called my name.

“Callie,” he repeats, and I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them, I feel some of the dark magic loosen its hold on me.

“Callie,” Lucas says again. His voice echoes in my head. I turn, and the world fades from view. All I can see is him. “We have a problem.”

Blinking hard, I stare up at his handsome face. The night has its color again, and the ringing in my ears stops.

“What?”

Lucas cautiously reaches past the salt line. There’s no wall of energy shielding us anymore. His fingers lace with mine, and he tugs me forward, trying to pull me out of the circle. “We need to go. Now.”

“No. The spell worked. Didn’t you see? He’s talking to us. We’re going to get answers.”

“Not if they get you first.”

“Who?”

Lucas shifts his eyes to the forest behind me. “The undead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You resurrected him all right,” Lucas goes on, nervously flicking his eyes to the forest behind us. “As well as at least a dozen others.”