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His gaze lifted from his hand, met hers. “The mind and body are one,” he said quietly in that lovely voice. “One guides the other, one heals the other. Let me ease this.”
She thought she felt warmth move through her, from the point where his fingers lay, into her head, down through her body, until a drowsiness seeped through. She jerked herself alert, saw him smile quietly. “I won’t hurt you.”
He turned, picked up an amber bottle, uncorked the stopper and dabbed clear, floral-scented liquid on his hands.
“This is a balm, an old recipe with modern additions.” He spread it gently, his fingers following the path Selina’s nails had raked. “It will heal clean, and there will be no more discomfort.”
“You know your chemicals, don’t you?”
“This is an herbal base.” He took a cloth from his pocket, wiped his fingers. “But yes, I do.”
“I’d like to talk to you about that.” She waited a beat, her eyes keen. “And about your father.”
She saw the demand hit home in the way his pupils dilated, then contracted. Then Isis was stepping between them, fury glorious on her face.
“You’ve been invited here; this place is sacred. You have no right—”
“Isis.” Chas touched her arm. “She has a mission. We all do.” He looked at Eve, seemed to gather himself. “Yes, I’ll speak with you, when you wish. But this isn’t the place to bring despair. The ceremony’s about to begin.”
“We won’t stop you.”
“Will tomorrow, nine o’clock, at Spirit Quest, be suitable?”
“That’s fine.”
“Excuse me.”
“Do you always repay kindness with pain?” Isis demanded in a furious undertone as Chas stepped away. Then she shook her head, aimed her gaze deliberately at Roarke. “You are welcome to observe, and we hope you and your companions will show the proper respect for our rite tonight. You aren’t permitted within the magic circle.”
As she swept away, Eve slipped her hands into her pockets. “Well, now I’ve got two witches pissed off at me.” She looked over as Peabody hurried to her side.
“It’s an initiation,” Peabody whispered. “I got it from the big gorgeous witch in the Italian suit.” She smiled across the clearing at a man with burnished bronze hair and a million-watt smile. “Jesus, makes a woman consider converting.”
“Get a grip on yourself, Peabody.” Eve nodded at Feeney.
“My sainted mother would be saying half a dozen rosaries tonight if she knew where I was.” He pushed on a grin to cover nerves. “Damn spooky place. Nothing out here but a lot of nothing.”
Roarke sighed, slipped an arm around Eve’s waist. “Cut from the same cloth,” he murmured and turned as the rite began.
The young woman Isis had called Mirium stood outside the circle of candles and was bound and blindfolded by two men. Everyone, but for the observers, was now naked. Skin glowed, white and dark and gold in the streaming moonlight. Deeper in the woods night birds called liltingly.
Itchy, Eve slid a hand inside her jacket, felt the weight of her weapon.
The red cords were used for the binding of the initiate, leaving a kind of tether. As the ankle cord was attached, Chas spoke.
“Feet neither bound nor free.”
And there was unmistakable joy and reverence in his voice.
Curious, Eve watched the casting of the circle, the opening ritual. The mood was, she had to admit, happy. Overhead, the moon swam, sprinkling light, silvering the trees. Owls hooted—an odd sound that rippled through her blood. Nudity seemed to be ignored. There was none of the surreptitious groping or sly glances she knew she’d have seen at any city sex club.
Chas took up the athame, making Eve’s hand close on her weapon as he held it to the postulant’s heart. He spoke, his words rising and falling on the smoky breeze.
“I have two passwords,” Mirium answered. “Perfect love and perfect trust.”
He smiled. “All who have such are doubly welcome. I give you a third to pass you through this dread door.”
He handed the knife to the man beside him, then kissed Mirium. As a father might kiss a child, Eve thought, frowning. Chas walked around the postulant, embraced her, then gently nudged her forward into the circle. Behind them, the second man traced the tip of the athame over the empty space, as if to close them in.
