The Quickening Page 9

  She recalled the recent murder in the neighborhood, and shifted her thinking. It didn’t pay to be too careless. She ducked into a vestibule of a closed store and waited. If there were someone following her, they were going to get the surprise of their life. Kat took her hands out of her pockets, shifted her weight to the balls of her feet.

  She was ready.

  After five minutes, several people had passed her, and none of them looked at all threatening. She stayed quiet and still for a few more moments. When nothing jumped out at her, she began to feel a little stupid, and then continued on her way home.

  Still, her instincts were on high alert, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Kat searched the street at the entrance to her building. If someone was following her, they were damned good at it, and remained hidden from her.

  *

  Tiffany screamed while she wiggled and jumped up and down. “Get it, get it, get it.”

  “I will if you hold still. It’s just a little one,” Shade said.

  “Check my hair, now!”

  Sunny patted her down. “Calm down. It’s gone. We got it.”

  Tiffany shuddered. “I hate spiders. Why do they always jump on me?”

  “Because you despise them. They lay in wait, just for you, my pretty.” Shade set the spider on a windowsill. “Can we continue, please?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, guys.” Tiffany quickly snapped her recorder on again. “Continuing Wilson investigation. Sunny, Shade, and Tiffany in the attic.”

  “I feel a masculine presence,” Sunny said.

  Tiffany paused for a second before gravitating toward the back of the room. She hesitated only briefly before she touched the wood. “There’s, um, somebody hanging from the beam. God, this is so sad, two suicides in the same house. But I don’t feel that they’re related. There’s a time span between them.” Tiffany flinched. The hanging wasn’t as messy as the first death she’d witnessed earlier, but it didn’t make her stomach hurt any less.

  “He won’t talk to me,” Sunny said. “He’s not even projecting a vision of himself. He’s showing me an empty black hole.”

  Tiffany put her hands back in her pockets. “Shade?”

  Shade nodded and approached the beam. She sat on the dusty floor, closed her eyes, and lay her hands palm down on her knees. Shade’s brow furrowed while she concentrated. He wasn’t making it easy for any of them to make contact. They sat in silence for several minutes while Shade attempted to meet him on the astral plane.

  “Finally,” Shade said. “I’ve got him, but he’s not happy about it.”

  “Tell him we’re just trying to help,” Sunny said.

  “I’m trying, but he thinks we’re evil witches come to take him to Hell.”

  “What?” Tiffany felt the pang of a momentary flashback involving her mother. “Why?”

  “I can feel traces of his fear and anguish,” Sunny said. “He’s scared to death. Oops, sorry, no pun intended.”

  Shade was quiet for a moment before she continued. “His name is Bob. He either won’t tell me his last name, or he’s forgotten it. Hang on. He’s coming forward.”

  “What’s he saying?” Tiffany asked. “I’m only catching the past loop.”

  “He’s breaking my heart,” Sunny said. “He’s saying he can’t go. He killed himself. That’s a deal breaker, and there is no moving on.”

  Tiffany automatically knew why. Suicide was a big fat no-no in most religions. “Will he tell you why he did it?”

  Shade looked thoughtful. “There’s something bad here. Bob is telling me that he lost everything―his wife, his job, and the house itself. He says there’s a demon in the basement. That it made his life unbearable.”

  Sunny was surprised. “Why haven’t we felt it?”

  Shade shrugged. “Tiff, remember the undercurrent I felt downstairs? If it’s able to hide that well, it’s going to have some serious intelligence.”

  “Yes,” Tiffany said. “Do you think that’s why two separate owners committed suicide? Now that I know what I’m looking for, it will be interesting to find out if I can find articles when I research the property.”

  “There are multiple layers of desolation here,” Sunny said. “It’s entirely possible they could have been coerced by a dark energy, especially if they were susceptible to suggestions and easily manipulated.”

  Tiffany shivered. “You’re talking oppression?”

  “Bob’s freaking out,” Sunny said. “Let’s concentrate on him right now.”

  Shade pulled two more white candles out of her bag and lit them before joining hands with Tiffany and Sunny. “It’s long past his time to go home.”

  Tiffany closed her eyes and drew energy from the circle. She concentrated on conjuring a bright ball of light in the corner of the room.

  Sunny continued to soothe Bob in a soft tone of voice, encouraging him to trust her, to take a chance. Tiffany lost track of time and she even grew a little sleepy. Sunny implored him to go into the light.

  The sad, heavy feeling in the room faded gradually. Bob’s spirit took a hesitant step out of the dark when the light shifted. The joy on his face when he felt it envelop him brought tears to her eyes. Tiffany waited until the light faded. “Rest in peace,” she said.

  Sunny had also shed a few tears. Shade wasn’t crying, but Tiffany could see there was a touch of tenderness in her expression that hadn’t been present for a while. She felt drained. It had been a long day, but this was what she loved most about what they did as a group. Shade and Sunny were quiet as they picked up their equipment in order to go back downstairs, and Tiffany didn’t want to break the hush of silence.

  She tried not to think about their unfinished business in the basement.

  Chapter Six

  Kat couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being followed home. It gnawed at her nerves, and she paced her hallway while she drank a glass of wine.

  What she needed was to concentrate on something else. It was late, but the time wasn’t an issue for her. She’d always been a night owl. After she retrieved her laptop from the living room, she continued into her bedroom and then set it down on the dresser before she went into the large closet.

  All the way in the back on a top shelf was a metal box. She took it down and blew the dust off. Inside were the carefully packed journals that chronicled Kat’s parallel lives.

  The dreams had been as authentic to her as her waking life was.

  Kat had always known she was different. As far back as she could remember, she’d had another person’s memories—the memories of a woman who had lived centuries before. As a child, she never understood why no one else had a sister-self that they saw at night. While she was growing up, she felt as if she lived two lives: the one in the past through her dreams, and the one in the present. It had been that way all her life and she’d learned to shut up about it to avoid the teasing. Not that her parents were mean, they simply didn’t understand. Her friends just thought she was a freak, so she kept quiet.

  Her visions stopped the year she turned twenty. The year she thought she might die from a broken heart.

  When Tanna was murdered.

  Kat gulped a swallow of her wine, took a deep breath, and finally opened the case. The covers of the diaries were all different and were numbered on the spines. She chose one she’d written when she was a teenager. Here we go, she thought, as she flipped it open. On the title page, inside of a heart, and written in curly handwriting were the words:

  Dream Journal

  Kat and Tanna

  A long, long time ago…

  On the next page, on the very top line, was the date, January 26th.

  Tanna and I were at the river, just hanging out. The sun was very bright in the sky, and it was hot. Too hot to lie on the bank, so we went to the rocks lining the big pool around the waterfall.

  It felt like a lazy day, you know? We were talking, I can’t remember about what. Then Tanna stood up and took off her robe, saying she had
to cool off. She had a funny look on her face…

  Kat looked up from the page and smiled. It hadn’t been the first time she’d seen Tanna naked. But while reading her entry here and now, as an adult, it was clear to her that budding sexuality was the topic of that particular dream.

  Kat remembered the way Tanna’s hips sashayed, the way the sun streamed from behind the trees to spotlight her as she stood with her arms above her head, almost posing for her, inviting her to look.

  Kat turned to the next page to continue reading.

  My stomach felt weird. I just stood there and watched the spot where Tanna went into the water. When she came up, she floated on her back. I could see the tips of her nipples just breaking the water line before she did a back roll, giving me a full view of everything. And I mean everything.

  When she surfaced again, she laughed at me and told me I should see the look on my face.

  I asked her what she thought she was doing, and Tanna tried to look all innocent. She asked me if I was stupid in addition to being clumsy.

  I told her I wasn’t stupid and dove into the water to try to catch her. I knew it wouldn’t be easy; Tanna swims like a fish. I went back under and opened my eyes, but I couldn’t see her anywhere…

  Kat recalled the frustration she’d felt, followed by the panic when she saw Tanna go under the falls. She had swum as fast as she could to pull her out, diving again and again until she was finally able to grab her ankle and get an arm under her, to tow her out. In her panic, her fingernails had left bloody moons along Tanna’s ankle.

  She had saved her life. That time. Kat continued to turn the pages in her journal, skipping ahead to the part she was looking for. Ah, there it was. She remembered the fever her seventeen-year-old self felt after she had this particular dream of her first kiss. Beneath the trees, along the river, under the full Goddess moon.

  She lay on her side and read the passage while she brought the experience forward, and set the stage to remember. Snapshot memories played in her mind, like flipping through a photo album.

  The heavy beat of drums pounded in her chest. Two rings of women danced around a central fire. The red-robed warriors danced around the priestesses in white. A slow and sensual circle dance. Spin, clap, step—reverse—again. The flames sparked with every clap.

  In the vision, Kat hadn’t taken her eyes off Tanna, who was being initiated as a priestess. Her emerald eyes almost glowed while she held her glance. Kat had been hot, so hot. But she wasn’t the only one; several of the young warriors who danced began shucking their clothes, leaving only leather loincloths. Their breasts were bared and bounced with each stomp they took to the beat. The priestesses encouraged them, and showed more and more skin, inviting them to feast with their eyes on the smooth skin beneath their robes.

  The drums sped up, along with the sexual tension, until Kat thought her heart might burst with need.

  The high priestess stood next to the drummer and held her hand up, stopping the rhythm, and all eyes went to her as she led Tanna to the front of the circle. “Who will step up and petition for this initiate’s favor?” She paused. “Who will bend on one knee and give their absolute allegiance to the Goddess and worship her through her beloved priestess?”

  Kat immediately stepped forward and dropped to one knee. “It would be my honor, Mother,” she said. She and Tanna had waited so long for this ceremony, the rite that would make her union with Tanna official in the eyes of her sisters.

  There was a low murmuring from the back of the crowd as another woman stepped up. “I give mine as well, Mother.” The woman’s bare chest glistened with sweat as she also knelt.

  “There are two who want to claim you, Tanna. They must fight for the privilege. Kat and Maeve,” Mother said.

  Kat had walked to where she laid her sword before the tribal dance. The sharp metal sang against the scabbard as she drew it out, the fire bounced off the polish and reflected in her opponent’s eyes. She snarled at the interloper. Kat had been so full of lust and adrenaline, she almost forgot that it was part of the ritual, and well prepared for in advance. In order for Kat to mate with Tanna, she needed to prove herself worthy before the tribe.

  The women circled the opponents. The heavy drumbeat commenced once again, rhythmic enough to keep the energy of the women high.

  They stood before the high priestess, kissed their blades, and offered them straight up to the sky for the Goddess’s blessing.

  “And so it begins,” said the mother.

  Kat and Maeve had circled each other, tested each other’s reflexes. A small breeze kicked up sparks from the fire into the air between them, but Kat ignored the glowing embers and advanced toward her opponent. The quicker Maeve was on her back, and under her blade, the faster she could complete the ritual.

  Sound had narrowed down to her breath and the stomp of their feet on the ground. Maeve swung first, but Kat turned the blade easily from her with her own. Again and again, Kat had deflected and parried with little effort.

  Had Maeve sought to wear her down with child’s swordplay? It was to be real battle, not pretend. Kat’s anger had built, and with it, her concentration slipped just a fraction, enough for Maeve to draw first blood. A nick on her left arm bled.

  Maeve bared her teeth. “Is that all you have, pup? I thought we weaned you.”

  The insult burned as the next slice of Maeve’s sword opened a long, shallow scratch on her thigh. Kat felt moisture run down her leg.

  The chanting and shouts from the watching women had encouraged Kat to regroup. She paused only for a second before she had gone on attack, surprising Maeve with a series of blows, putting her on the defense.

  The steel blades clashed repeatedly, and the sound of metal scraping against metal set Kat’s teeth on edge. She’d been slick with sweat from the fight and the heat of the fire at her back. Her sword arm felt the blows from her fingers to her shoulders each time they clashed. She’d felt her strength begin to wane slightly. It was time to put Maeve down and use the move she’d practiced for months. A move her sister-teacher hadn’t expected from her.

  Instead of blocking the next thrust, she helped the sword on its way, putting a barely perceptible pause in Maeve’s balance, but Kat had watched for it. She crouched, ducked under the backhanded down thrust of the blade, swung her leg into Maeve’s ankle, and knocked her off balance. She fell heavily into the sand. Kat placed a foot on her wrist and pinned the sword to the ground.

  Maeve’s blue eyes showed her shock at being bested, but Kat had also seen a reluctant pride.

  She placed the tip of her blade to Maeve’s jugular. “I claim this victory, Mother. I claim the rights for the priestess Tanna.”

  “Let it be known, the warrior Kat has earned her place at the Goddess’s side on this night.”

  The murmur in the crowd grew louder as the women shouted and clapped and paired off. Maeve’s partner had helped her from the sand while she laughed good-naturedly.

  “Halt!” Tanna said, and the voices and drums stopped. “I demand the chase before Kat claims her victory.” Her eyes had caught and held Kat’s, as she stated her own challenge. “She has to catch me first.”

  The dance, fight, and chase were part of the ceremonies that had been passed down for generations. Kat had won the fight, proved she was worthy, but the ritual wasn’t complete until the priestess let herself be caught.

  Tanna had an hour head start, and she had known those woods as well as Kat had. She had moved silently like smoke through the trees as well as any trained warrior. If she hadn’t been found before daylight, Kat’s petition for union would have been denied.

  It was the last page in that journal. Kat closed it reverently and held it to her chest while she curled onto her side. Emotions swirled along with the memories. This had been serious stuff when she was younger. Her real life had been boring compared to the ancient one she dreamt of at night. She was too tired to keep her eyes open, let alone look for the next book. She turned off her lamp a
nd was quickly lulled to sleep by memories of sweat and love.

  *

  Tiffany felt bad for not staying at the Wilsons’. Shade didn’t want her to stay while she investigated the rest of the house. She tried to argue, but Sunny agreed it would be best if she went home. It had become an unwritten rule after she had Angel that Tiffany would be excused from the worst energies. Since they didn’t know exactly what was causing the haunting yet, and the house had already seen two tragedies, they ganged up on her and made her leave.

  Tiffany had no real desire to go up against anything in the basement, so it wasn’t too hard to convince her. Jordan offered to take her home. After Jordan’s nasty experience with a dark entity last year, she didn’t want to hang around either.

  Tiffany packed her personal equipment and then met her at the car. “I should wait and help load up when they’re done.”

  “I’ll come back and do that.” Jordan opened the trunk.

  “You’re going to drive all the way back here after you drop me off?” Tiffany probed her thoughts gently. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”

  “Get out of my head, Tiff. I hate it when you guys do that.” Jordan slammed the hatch and got in the car.

  Tiffany sat in the passenger seat. “I don’t mean anything by it. I’m only trying to help.”

  Jordan sighed. “I know. Sorry for snapping at you.”

  “S’okay.” Tiffany closed her eyes and rested her head.

  “How did you feel about the reading with Kat this morning?” Jordan asked.

  “Damn, was that this morning? It feels like days. No wonder I’m exhausted.”

  “Kat said you left in a hurry.”

  “Did she tell you why?”

  “Said you were drained.”

  “Ah,” Tiffany said. “Did she say anything else?” She wondered why Kat hadn’t told Jordan that she kissed her.