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“Her body’s dead, Isis. That’s my concern.”
“Yes.” Isis picked up a smooth, rose-colored stone from the table, worried it in her hand. “Even for me, with my beliefs, it’s difficult to accept her death. So young, so bright.” The huge, dark eyes swam. “I loved her very much, as you would a younger sister. But it wasn’t meant for me to save her in this life. Her spirit will return, be reborn. I know we’ll meet again.”
“Fine. Let’s concentrate on this life. And this death.”
Isis blinked back the tears and managed a quick, genuine smile. “How tedious you must find all of this. You have such a logical mind. I want to help you, Dallas, for Alice. For myself, perhaps for yourself as well. I recognize you.”
“I gathered that.”
“No, from another time. Another place. Another plane.” She spread her hands. “I last saw Alice alive on the day of her grandfather’s memorial service. She blamed herself, was determined to make an atonement. She’d strayed for a time, been misled, but she had a strong and bright heart. Her family was dear to her. And she was afraid, desperately afraid of what Selina would do to her—body and soul.”
“You know Selina Cross?”
“Yes. We’ve met.”
“In this life?” Eve asked dryly, and made Isis smile again.
“In this life, and others. She’s no threat to me, but she is dangerous. She seduces the weak, the confused, and those who prefer her way.”
“Her claims to be a witch—”
“She is no witch.” Isis drew her shoulders back, lifted her head. “We who embrace the craft do so in the light and live by an unbreakable code. And it harm none. She used what pitiful power she has to call on the dark, to exploit its violence, its ugliness. We know what evil is, Dallas. We’ve both seen it. Whatever form it takes doesn’t change its basic nature.”
“We can agree on that. Why would she harm Alice?”
“Because she could. Because she would enjoy it. There’s no question that she’s responsible for this death. You won’t find it easy to prove it. You won’t give up.” Isis kept her eyes on Eve’s, looking long, looking deep. “Selina will be surprised and infuriated by your tenacity, your strength. Death offends you, and the death of the young cuts small slices from your heart. You remember too well, but not all. You weren’t born Eve Dallas, but you’ve become her, and she you. When you stand by the dead, stand for the dead, nothing moves you aside. His death was necessary for your life.”
“Stop,” Eve ordered.
“Why should it haunt you?” Isis’s breathing was slow and thick, her eyes dark and clear. “The choice was made correctly. Innocence was lost, but strength took its place. For some, it must be so. You’ll need all before this cycle passes. A wolf, a boar, and a silver blade. Fire, smoke, and death. Trust the wolf, slay the boar, and live.”
Abruptly, she blinked. Her eyes clouded as she lifted a hand to press fingers to her temple. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend—” She let out a quiet moan, squeezed her eyes shut. “Headache. Vicious. Excuse me one minute.” She got shakily to her feet and hurried into the back.
“Jesus, Dallas, this is getting way too weird. Do you know what she was talking about?”
“His death was necessary for your life.” Her father, Eve thought, fighting off a shudder. A cold room, a dark night, and blood on the knife clutched in a desperate child’s hand.
“No, it’s just jibberish.” Her palms were damp, infuriating her. “These people figure they have to pull out some magic tricks to keep us interested.”
“I studied at the Kijinsky Institute in Prague,” Isis said as she stepped back into the room. “And was studied.” She set a small cup aside, managed a smile as the headache eased. “My psychic abilities are documented—for those who need documentation. But I apologize, Dallas. I didn’t intend to drift in that manner. It’s very rare for it to happen without my consciously controlling it.”
She came back to sit as she spoke, spread the skirts of her robe gracefully. “It would be sheer hell to be privy to thoughts and memories without some power to control and block. I don’t like to pry into personal thoughts. And it hurts,” she added, gently rubbing her temple again. “I want to help you do what Alice wanted, so she can rest. I want, for personal and selfish reasons, to see Selina pay the proper price for what she’s responsible for. I’ll do whatever I can, whatever you’ll allow me to do, to help you.”
Trust didn’t come easily for Eve, and she would check very thoroughly into Isis’s background. But for now, she’d use her. “Tell me what you know about Selina Cross.”
“I know she’s a woman without conscience or morals. I would think your term would be sociopath, but I find that too simple and too clean for what she is. I prefer the more direct term of evil. She’s a clever woman with a skill for reading weaknesses. As for her power, what she can read or see or do, I can’t say.”
“What about Alban?”
“About him I know next to nothing. She keeps him close. I assume he’s her lover and she finds him useful or she would have—dispatched him by now.”
“This club of hers?”
Isis smiled thinly. “I don’t frequent such…establishments.”
“But you know of it?”
“One hears rumors, gossip.” She lifted her broad shoulders. “Dark ceremonies, Black Masses, the drinking of blood, human sacrifice. Rape, murder, infanticide, the calling up of demons.” Then she sighed. “But then, you might hear such talk about Wiccans from those who have no understanding of the craft and who see black draped crones and eye of newt when they think of witches.”
