Chapter 15
Without warning, Arianna stood before her trailer, home again. The golden light she’d enjoyed had weakened until it had dulled to a pale gray. Mist bled from fleshy clouds that crowded the sky. The world around her had faded to a sickly version of the one she’d just visited. But to her surprise, not everything had disappeared. Desmond remained, surrounding her with his warmth. In the past, he had faded along with the magical field they’d stood in. But this time he hadn’t. And she was grateful for his presence.
Wrapped in his arms, she felt calm, safe. Desmond was the only person who truly understood her. All her life, she’d never had a true place among any group she’d ever been a part of, and those had been few and far between. Most of the time, she’d been alone. Moving from town to town, whether it had been of Desmond’s doing or not, had not helped matters. But encircled in Desmond’s sturdy arms, for the first time ever, Arianna felt like she was home.
She rested her cheek against his solid chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling his energy waft through her with every pulse. She did not want to let go, wished they could stay as they were forever. She breathed in his scent. He smelled of leather and spicy aftershave, masculine. Warmth spread throughout her and lingered low in her belly, need twisting inside of her.
Suddenly aware of their close proximity and the effect it was having on her, Arianna allowed her arms to drop from his waist and stepped back. Heat crept up her neck and flushed her cheeks, embarrassment at her overwhelming attraction to him.
As if he intuited her desire for him, Desmond hesitated for a moment and did not release her from his hold. When finally he did, Arianna felt breathless, but knew she needed to say something.
“I guess I should go inside now and sleep for like, the next twelve hours or something,” she said and immediately cringed at how silly she’d sounded, how juvenile.
“Good, you need your rest,” he replied. “I’ll be back in the morning. When I return, we need to decide what to. But one thing is for sure: you cannot go back to that school.”
“That’s for sure,” Arianna agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled at Desmond involuntarily, unable to hide her eagerness at seeing him in less than twenty-four hours. She had no idea where he went when he left her, whether he ate or slept, or had a wife or girlfriend. The thought of him leaving her and resuming some sort of warlock domestic setup with a woman as gorgeous as he spurred a spark of jealousy through her blood and straight to her heart. She knew feelings of jealousy were as irrational as they were dangerous, but she’d had no control over it.
“I need to go visit a fellow warlock in a nearby town and see if coven formations have begun; all business, you know? It’s not like I have anyone waiting for me, though,” he said and she swore he’d read her mind. “I’ll be back shortly after the sun rises. I promise. In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble, okay?”
Arianna rolled her eyes exaggeratedly then said, “Okay, fine, if you insist.”
Desmond smiled at her, his face serene and angelic. His coloring and overall appearance was Nordic, but the energy he radiated was otherworldly, divine.
“I do insist,” he said and the corners of his mouth faltered. “Stay safe Arianna. We need you in one piece. I need you.”
His words had caught her off guard. He needed her. He’d said it himself. But in what capacity? She wondered. Did he need her powers, her leadership, or was it something more?
“I’ll do my best,” she said and wanted to ask every question as it popped into her head. She lowered her eyes, instead, afraid of the answers she might hear had she dared ask.
When she lifted her eyes, Desmond was gone.
“What the hell?” she said to no one. “Good-bye to you, too, Desmond.”
Alone and suddenly chilled to her bones despite the abnormal warmth of the mid-November day, she wrapped her arms around her waist and walked toward her trailer. A quick glance at the parking spot in front of her porch revealed that her mother was home. The pathetic Toyota her mom had driven for as long as she could remember waited there, rusted and looking as though it would collapse under the weight of the thick fog.
Arianna was not in the mood to answer what promised to be an unending battery of questions from her mother about why she was home from school so early. She leaned against the railing that she’d formerly tethered her motorcycle to and fished around inside her bag for her pack of cigarettes. When finally she found it, she slipped a slender cylinder from it, placed it between her lips and lit it. She inhaled deeply and the nicotine entered her system immediately. Moderately relaxed and a little lightheaded, the morning replayed in her mind. After her skirmish with Cheryl and Preppy-boy, Luke had grabbed her. The way he’d looked at her had winded her as though she’d been punched in gut. He’d narrowed his eyes at her, his face stricken, disgusted by her. He knew what she was now, and wanted nothing to do with her. She did not blame him. But not blaming him did little to ease the disappointment she’d felt, the shame. And while she was not happy about either dropping out of high school in her senior year or being forced to transfer to yet another district, she was relieved she would not have to see Cheryl, Preppy-boy or any of Luke’s friends any time soon. She would not be forced to endure the judgmental stares, the intentional snubs or the looks of disapproval. And she would not have to see Luke.
Luke. She did not want to think of him, did not want to address the gravity of what had happened between them, yet he had crept into her mind again, no longer welcome, uninvited. She extinguished thoughts of him, along with her cigarette, and braced herself for her mother’s illogical wrath. Arianna hoped her mother’s overnight guest had gone home. She doubted she could withstand another awkward introduction. She had experienced many in the course of her lifetime and wanted to avoid more than she absolutely had to.
Arianna sighed loudly then turned the handle of the front door. As usual, the front door was unlocked.
“Mom! Hey Mom! You know, you really ought to start locking the front door. Any weirdo could just let himself in,” she called out then mumbled under her breath, “Or you’ll just bring him home from the bar to spend the night.”
She walked into the trailer and dropped her bag on the floor just inside the doorway. She looked around and didn’t see her mother, but did see that the living room was in a state of disarray. An empty liquor bottle sat unapologetically on the side table next to the couch and fast-food wrappers were strewn on the coffee table.
“Way to clean up, Mom!” Arianna called. Her mother did not answer so she called out again. “Mom, I know you’re here your car is outside!” she said then it occurred to her that maybe her mother’s new friend had arrived in his own car and that they might be out together.
Arianna marched down the hallway and stopped at the first door on the right, her mother’s bedroom. The door was shut so she knocked and waited for a response. Ordinarily, if a man had spent the night with her mother, she would not consider opening her bedroom door the next morning for fear of walking in on a scenario that would likely scar her for life. She checked her watch and saw that it was not yet one o’clock. Plenty of time had passed for both her mother and her mother’s guest to sleep off the doozy they’d undoubtedly tied on the night before. She knocked again then turned the doorknob. She peeked inside and saw the foot of the bed. It looked as though the bed had been made so she swung it open all the way.
The entire bed came into view and Arianna gasped then covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the scream that fought to escape her lips. Blood covered nearly every surface of the upper portion of the comforter, sheets and pillows, and a man she’d never met sat, propped up against her mother’s headboard. His eyes were wide with fright and his hands had been positioned in front of him, pressed together impossibly in prayer. An angry maroon arc at the side of his neck, along with the tremendous amoun
t of blood that had saturated the front of his nude body, indicated that his throat had been slit. The scene was beyond macabre. A man had been murdered in her mother’s bed then placed, ghoulishly, to look as though he was praying. Arianna felt the world tilt on its axis, the phantasmagoric image before her too much for her mind to process. She fell to her knees and clutched her belly as the urge to retch overcame her. Her blood roared in her ears and her stomach clenched violently. She gagged and heaved yet nothing came up, just sobs that choked the air from her lungs. She was about to leave, to crawl out of her mother’s bedroom on all fours, when something caught her attention.
On the wall above the murdered man’s head, a piece of paper had been affixed to the wall, stabbed into the plaster with a long blade. Arianna rose to her feet, her legs trembling so hard she doubted they could support her weight. She took a tentative step forward and was surprised that, not only had they held her, they’d also moved. Her body shook so forcefully, she saw the dark curtains of hair on either side of her face quivering as well. Slowly, she made her way to the bed.
Standing near the dead man, her stomach churned and threatened again, the metallic stench of blood filling her nostrils. Her breath came in short, shallow pants, hyperventilation looming on the horizon, as she reached out a trembling hand and pulled at the knife in the wall. The hilt felt cold and slick and she withdrew her hand immediately. She looked down at her hand and saw that it was covered in blood.
Repulsed, she wiped her hand on the bedspread, desperate to clean the man’s blood from her palm. But it seemed to have seeped into her skin. No matter how hard she wiped, the man’s blood remained on her hand. Panic began to mingle with shock and she fought to keep both at bay. She moved back to the knife and quickly yanked the paper from beneath it. She looked at it and saw that the paper was torn but the words were still legible. The note had been scrawled in meticulous handwriting and said:
Dearest Arianna Rose,
I have your mother. If you ever want to see her alive again, you will come to the Soldiers of the Divine Trinity Church at the address listed below. If you contact the police, I will kill your mother. If you bring anyone with you, or alert anyone, I will kill your mother.
I have eyes and ears everywhere, Arianna. You are being watched right now. Do not do anything stupid. If you maintain hope that your mother will survive, you will do exactly as I say.
Yours Truly,
Howard Kane, Jr.
Soldiers of the Divine Trinity Church
102 Heather Road
Corning PA 06806
Arianna’s mouth went dry as she read the words in front of her. Howard Kane had her mother. He held her mother as his hostage. He had been to her trailer and had killed her mother’s lover. Another innocent had died because of her. And now, her mother’s life teetered at the brink of a great precipice from which there was no return. Her mother would die if she did not face Kane.
Her hands continued to shake as she held the note in her hand as a fresh wave of tremors racked her body. But instead of trembling with fear, Arianna began to tremble with ire. Fury seized her, gripping her with an urgency so consuming she could no longer be still. She stuffed the paper into the front pocket of her jeans and fled the room. She dashed down the hallway, pausing only to sling her bag over her shoulder and raced out the front door. She slipped behind the wheel of her mother’s car and turned the spare key her mother had insisted she have in the ignition. The engine groaned to life and she riffled through the glove compartment for a GPS navigation unit her mother had relieved Carl of weeks earlier. When she found it, she frantically punched in the address Kane had left her then stomped on the gas pedal. She sped down the driveway of Shady Pines Trailer Park and on to the main road.
She drove for three hours, blind to traffic, the weather, the world. She traveled with a single purpose: to rescue her mother from Howard Kane. She had not called the police and she had not called upon Desmond, though a part of her had wanted to do both. In her heart, she knew neither the police nor Desmond could help her. She was the Sola, and she would face Kane alone. Left with the irritating female voice of the navigation system and her own tortured thoughts, Arianna arrived at The Soldiers of the Divine Trinity Church a little after four o’clock.
She pulled down a lane lined with stately cedar trees. The limbs of the trees sagged as if bearing the weight of a great secret upon each of their boughs, and lent their appearance the impression of majestic mustached watchmen guarding confidences they’d rather not keep. At the end of the long pathway, an imposing structure loomed. Made of stone and beveled stained glass, the cross at the apex of the steeple looked as though it had punctured the heavens above. Leaden clouds began to weep fat raindrops sporadically. Thunder growled in the distance, threatening at any moment to hemorrhage a downpour.
Arianna pulled her car in front of the Soldiers of the Divine Trinity Church and slid out of her mother’s car. She climbed a small set of concrete steps and paused before a set of wooden doors. She tugged at one of the ornate metal handles and was surprised when it opened silently. She stepped inside and found herself in the vestibule of the building. Faint light spilled from lit candles and cast eerie shadows all around her. She reached out and touched the cool stone of the wall and edged her way around a large vat of holy water in the center of the passage until she reached another set of doors.
The doors opened to the congregational seating area. Rows of pews faced the sanctuary. From where she stood, she saw a man kneeling at the altar. She ran down the center aisle past the pews, up three steps and stopped beside the man.
“Where is my mother?” she demanded.
The man turned his head toward her slowly. He looked like an ordinary man, and she was certain he wasn’t Howard Kane, but something gleamed in his eye, a flicker of something familiar.
“He is waiting for you,” the man replied in a deep voice.
The sound of his voice, the look in his eye, both hit her and an image flashed in her mind. The man kneeling at the altar had worn a long, hooded cloak. He had stood alongside Kane and chanted indecipherable words, and had watched as Lily burned
“He is out in the courtyard,” the rumble of his voice snapped her from her vision. The man gestured with long, thin fingers to the right of the sanctuary.
Arianna rushed in the direction he’d pointed her in and silently vowed to return and find him when she’d finished with Kane. He would pay for what he’d done to Lily. She would make sure of it.
To the left of the altar lay the sacristy. The sacristy was little more than a storage room for books, vestments and an assortment of odd-looking tools. There was a sink, a narrow window and a single door. She reached out and tried the handle without delay and discovered it was unlocked. Though the handle turned, when she pushed against the door itself, it did not budge. Undeterred, she dropped her shoulder and rammed the weight of her body against it several times until, finally, it gave way. She found herself standing on a small rectangle of concrete before a courtyard. An immense fountain surrounded by ornate statues blocked her view, but beyond the overly elaborate display, something else was happening, a nefarious scene was unfolding. A tingling whisper of awareness inched down her spine and propelled her forward.
She ran around the statues and fountain and she immediately saw a woman’s frightened face. Her mother had been tied to a stake in the middle of the clearing, brush piled beneath her, tears streaming down her cheeks. She cried out to Arianna, “Run baby! Get as far away from these deranged killers as you can!” her mother’s voice was panicked and shrill, unlike Arianna had ever heard it before.
“Shut your mouth, sinner!” a voice boomed and a man stepped from the shadows.
He gripped a torch in both hands and Arianna recognized the charred and puckered flesh of the man’s face, the same burnt face that had haunted her nightmares. Only this time, it was
not Lily who burned at his hands. Her mother would be the one who burned.
Fierce tremors shook Arianna’s entire body and her vision became veiled in crimson. Her racing heart slowed and all she could see was Howard Kane. Her scarlet gaze glowed, shining from her eyes, and soaked him in a blood red shroud. She could hear his lifeblood coursing through his veins; smell the coppery scent of it. But she did not feel the need to retch. She did not feel sickened by it. She felt incensed by it. A primal voice inside urged her to kill, kill him where he stood, spill his blood and feast on it. Howard Kane had claimed the lives of countless innocents and the day of reckoning was upon him. Her muscles twitched, eager and aching to channel the energy that stormed inside her. She started to raise her arm, the force of her energy pulsing like an electric current.
“I would think twice about that,” Kane warned confidently and signaled. A man appeared from the direction Kane had just gestured to with an assault rifle in hand. The rifle was equipped with a small, black scope and aimed at Arianna’s mother.
“This is Eli,” Kane spoke. “He is one of more than a dozen men who have your mother in their crosshairs. If you do not lower your arm and calm yourself right now, she will be killed.”
Arianna felt her energy begin to flare despite her effort to control it. Men surrounded her and her mother. She could sense them. And there was no way for her to unarm them simultaneously before one took their kill shot at her mother. She spun, scanning the clearing, looking to the woods beyond it for armed shapes, when a man sprung from her left. The bite of tiny electrodes against the nape of her neck was immediate and followed promptly by a burst of electrical energy that dropped her to her knees. As soon as she felt the cold, wet earth touch her legs, she felt the prick of another set of electrodes hit her back and shoulders. Men rushed her, she could hear the urgent tone of their voices, knew she had been tasered more than once, as her body began to convulse. She tried to scream, to thrash, but her body refused to cooperate. Darkness embraced her, stroking and lulling with silky, sinuous fingers. She strained to shirk it, to evade its elusive allure, but was overtaken.