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“Come on, you need to rest.” As much as he wanted to do something entirely different, she was vulnerable. “You sleep in my bed tonight, I’ll take the sofa.”
“Oh.”
The disappointment on her face almost made him change his mind, but he forced it back. This would have to wait until she was calmer. More importantly, it would have to wait until he was entirely sure that she was simply aroused by what she had seen and felt, and not acting under some other force.
Cain stood on the seafront outside the post office, breathing in the spiritual energy that was surfacing on the dark night air, his appetite for power growing. He’d returned to Carbrey to be where it had all begun, and in doing so he had given the village a project worthy of a strong coven, a goal. Until then they’d been mired in petty feuds and had no real focus. Not anymore. Not now that he was at the helm.
Necromancy and re-embodiment was no easy task, and his name and his coven would soon become synonymous with power amongst every practitioner of the craft. Then no one in this world would dare to call him “warlock” with spite and pity, for they would all be in his thrall.
The door to the post office opened and Crawford stood there, waiting. Cain stepped inside, nodding over at Elspeth. In the gloomy interior, he quizzed them about their progress over the course of the day.
“Zoë’s turning, I’m sure of it,” Crawford said. “She claimed she was doing tourist stuff, but I could sense the change. Something is surfacing in her. I didn’t exactly feel Annabel’s presence, but there was definitely a change there. It was fascinating to see.”
Cain nodded. He’d found it irritating that he hadn’t been able to see her today, but Crawford had reassured him. “And you say you will see her tomorrow?”
“Yes, I invited her to the dance at the pub and she seemed keen.”
Cain looked at Elspeth. “And what about Murdoch?”
“She’s spending far too much time with him.” Folding her arms over her chest, she pouted. “We need to pull her away.”
“We do need to bring her closer to our circle, yes.” He pondered the situation. He’d done his best to shoo Murdoch back to Edinburgh, from whence he came, but Murdoch was a tenacious sort. No matter. He was a nuisance, no more. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that Murdoch has her attention. As long as he doesn’t pick up on what we are up to, he’s keeping her entertained. She hasn’t taken off. Perhaps we have him to thank for that.” He smiled to himself. There was sweet justice in that.
“What if he does figure it out,” Elspeth said, uneasily, “what if he figures it out and warns her off?”
“Can you put a stronger binding spell on her, tonight?” Cain asked. “I don’t want her wandering off to Dundee again, or worse, heading back to London.”
“Sure,” Elspeth responded. “I’ll need something of hers, something intimate, in order to make the spell stronger, but I can do that.”
“Good. And unless Murdoch has the gift of second sight, which I don’t believe he has, then he’ll never find out what we’re trying to achieve here. Our coven is sworn to secrecy. He’d be more likely to get the news from Annabel’s lips than any of ours. By that time, it will be too late.” He took a moment to savor that thought, imagining the look on Grayson Murdoch’s face when Annabel was alive once more.
The clock struck the hour. Elspeth lifted the heavy velvet curtain at the back of the shop, led the way down the stairs and into the candlelit cellar. The space had been extended to run beneath the paved yard at the back of the building, and a skylight had been inserted there—a skylight that acted specifically as a moon-dial. When the moon hit a certain spot on the floor, it opened a portal into the world beyond.
They prepared quickly, donning their ritual cloaks and standing in place. Cain chanted the ancient language of black magic ritual. The requisite number of candles surrounded the circle, and when he nodded her way, indicating that he was ready, Elspeth wound a handle mounted on the wall. The blind that covered the skylight overhead folded back.
Moonlight flooded down onto the hallowed spot on the black marble floor, glinting off the silver pentangle painted there. Cain nodded at Elspeth again, indicating she should take her place. She moved to his left side. Crawford stood at his right, eyes glittering with anticipation within the shadow of his hood, and held out his offerings.
Cain flicked through the photographs. They’d been taken of the Londoner while she was in Dundee. “Nice work,” he commented. He liked the expectant look in her eyes; that reflected what Crawford had said.
Crawford passed him something else, a silver earring.
“Perfect.” Lifting his hands, Cain breathed deeply and began to speak in the ancient tongue, his voice ringing out across space, time and worlds. This was a crucial turning point. The three of them closed in, raised their hands until they were almost touching, and stared down at the pentangle. Then they waited, barely daring to breathe while the atmosphere shifted.
An icy chill flooded the room. The candles flickered.
Moonlight gathered within the pentangle, whirling in on itself. Cain thrust his hand into the passage of the moonlight. It condensed into the black jet ring he wore and then speared out from its center, creating a living symbol between them.
“The portal is open.” He felt the power surge through his hand and into his body. His heart raced with the thrill of it. Elspeth lifted her head, her hood falling back, her hair spilling over her shoulders. Certainty bedded within them all.
Cain chanted the words from the forbidden book as he dropped the photographs one by one into the center of the pentangle, followed by the earring. The objects disappeared into the whirling portal at its center.
“For the soul of one Annabel McGraw,” he stated, his eyes closing, power and redemption almost within his reach.
Annabel Annabel, my precious Annabel. How he longed to have her in his arms again—to touch her, hold her, mate with her as they once did. Soon, soon it would be so.
The knowledge of that fact burned within him, and he felt as if the world was within his grasp. Uniting with a resurrected Annabel would not only return her to him, it would seal his destiny as the most powerful coven leader of all time. Together they would create unprecedented magic. Together they would live forever.
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