But I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
Leticia is caught up in the words, the magic. Her face takes on an excited flush, her voice rises and falls. Soon the crystals begin to glow. I take an involuntary step back, remembering the flash fire of before. There’s no mist this time, no colorful liquid vapor you can touch and send gently rippling with a touch of your hand. This time the crystals send off scorching heat and light as bright as a laser, turning night into day in the confines of the bar.
Prendergast groans. My eyes snap to him. He’s writhing on the floor, his face contorted.
I thought Sophie said there’d be no pain?
Sophie is still quiet, not moving. She has a smile on her face and she clutches Prendergast’s hand like a lifeline.
Leticia continues to read. Pause. Wave the bundle of herbs. Her face reflects excitement, anticipation. She glances now and then at the two in front of her, as if gauging something.
Then it happens. Sophie’s back arches, she cries out. A specter, a cloud of grey, rises from her body. At the same time, the crystals flare and go out. The specter pauses, suspended in mid-air, as if aware but unsure what path to take.
“Now, Anna, the holy water.” Leticia’s hushed voice rouses me. “Quickly. Sophie.”
I uncap the vial and sprinkle the water over Sophie’s writhing body. As if the act is a cue, the specter moves away from her and into Prendergast. He bucks once. Then, as the cloud is absorbed into his body, he grows still.
The candles flicker, too, and go out, plunging the room into darkness.
It’s so quiet.
I can’t take my eyes off the two on the floor. They lie as if asleep. Leticia hasn’t said a word either and I feel her tremble. She’s as eager with anticipation as I am. I fight the urge to reach out, shake Sophie’s shoulders, ask the hundred questions spinning in my head like bits of driftwood in a whirlpool.
As the minutes tick by and there’s no movement, no sign of consciousness returning to Sophie and Prendergast, I’m overcome with dread.
They are asleep aren’t they?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I feel Leticia’s anxiety growing with mine.
“What have I done?” she whispers.
I move to stand beside her. “You did what Sophie asked.”
“But what if I’ve killed Jonathan?” Her voice becomes hard, concern replaced with anger. “She didn’t ask Jonathan what he wanted. I should have made her bring him back. Let him choose.”
I remember Sophie in the office when she came to ask me to accompany her to Leadville. “Sophie would have gotten rid of Jonathan one way or the other. She was that desperate.”
Leticia turns puzzled eyes on me. “I don’t even know how they came to co-exist. How could such a thing happen?”
I give her a condensed version: who Sophie was, how she came to have access to Jonathan’s ashes when he was immolated, what she tried to do with them that produced the unorthodox results.
Rather than feel sympathy for Sophie after hearing the story, Leticia snarls. “She should have been happy. He gave her youth, wealth, a life without bounds. Stupid witch. If she survives and he doesn’t I’ll make her pay for her ingratitude.”
I blow out a breath. I can tell from what she’s feeling, there would be no use arguing the point. And I have a question of my own.
“You and Jonathan obviously loved each other very much. Why did you part?”
For the first time, a deep well of regret opens in Leticia’s thoughts, allowing me to glimpse the depth of her remorse. “I talk of Sophie being stupid. I was no less so. I wanted to move on, to California where new adventure beckoned. Jonathan liked our life in Leadville. And he knew part of the reason I wanted to go to California was because Anthony, my sire, invited me there. He sent letters full of stories of the beauty of the state, of the ocean. Jonathan felt I might still have unresolved feelings for Anthony. And he was right. I did. But Anthony had moved on. He found he liked ‘recruiting’ new vampires into his fold and I would have been just one more in his harem.”
“Why didn’t you return to Jonathan?”
“Why do you think? Pride. Embarrassment. Time moves slowly for vampires and it makes forming attachments difficult. I soon found temporary relationships, be it with mortals or vampires, work best. At least I did until I heard Jonathan’s voice.”
She looks at me. “You have not been vampire long, have you? I know you have extraordinary abilities but you also still have a mortal family. I have heard the stories. I can feel your uncertainty about what lies ahead for you. I can only give you one piece of advice. If you are lucky enough to find a soul mate, whether the relationship lasts a mortal lifetime or an eternity, you may be given only one chance at real fulfillment. Don’t let it slip away.”
We have been talking quietly, heads close together, caught up in emotions transmitted both in words and thoughts.
I find myself envying her and being fearful for her at the same time. If Jonathan is truly gone, it was a cruel act of fate, and Sophie, to remind her again of what she lost.
She can do nothing about fate, but Sophie is another matter.
A sound snaps our attention to the circle. Sophie is sitting up, confusion drawing her face into a scowl. She looks around, eyes cloudy with the effort of trying to remember, questions reflected in her expression. She doesn’t know where she is.
Leticia takes a step forward. I stop her. “Wait. Let her come back.”
I shield my thoughts and try to reach Jonathan, first in Sophie, then in Prendergast, still unconscious.
I get nothing.
From either of them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sophie comes around slowly. She presses both hands against her face. I can’t tell if she’s taking mental inventory or is just weary from the exorcism. I try again to reach out to Jonathan. Leticia is doing the same. We both ask the same question:
Where are you?
We both get the same answer: nothing.
Leticia isn’t willing to wait any longer. She kneels down between Sophie and Prendergast. She turns Sophie’s face upward with a hand to her chin.
“Did it work?”
Sophie looks at her with no expression.
Leticia’s anger snaps. She slaps Sophie with the palm of her hand. “Come out of it, damn you. Did it work?”
Sophie’s head jerks, her hand flies to her cheek. Anger flushes confusion from her eyes. “What did you do that for?”
At least she’s speaking. Color rushes into her face. She struggles to stand up but Leticia stops her. Sophie pushes her hand away. “Let me up.”
Leticia rises with her. For a moment, they stare at each other. Sophie touches her chest. Tilts her head as if listening. Then a slow smile blossoms on Sophie’s lips.
“He’s gone,” she says. Her face shines with the wonder of it. “He’s really gone.”
Leticia doesn’t take the same pleasure in Sophie’s declaration. She takes step closer, teeth bared in warning. “Where is he, witch?”
Sophie looks down at Prendergast. “Did you see his spirit when it left my body?”
I figure it’s time I inserted myself in the conversation. Leticia’s growing fury is reaching critical mass. “We did,” I say, stepping between them. Maybe not the best place to be if Leticia explodes, but I can handle her better than Sophie.
I point to Prendergast. “It seemed to rise like a cloud and settle into him. But he hasn’t moved since and we can’t reach Jonathan telepathically.”