“He’s stayin’ put. There’ll be someone assigned to watch these kids ‘round the clock.”
“That’s good.”
“Ya’know, Rowan.” Ben reached up and massaged his neck for a moment. “You once told me that there’s a huge number of Pagans in Saint Louis…”
I gave a vigorous nod as I confronted his unspoken comment. “There are, but I suspect that they will be safe this go around. For now, anyway. Porter is after me personally, and the only reason he killed Randy was to bait me.”
“Yeah, that was kinda obvious. So, I don’t wanna sound crass or anything, but considerin’ your track record, couldn’t he have just killed any Pagan on his list?”
“Yes and no,” I answered.
“You think he’s really plannin’ all this that deliberately?”
“I don’t know. He’s not stupid, Ben. I’m betting he’s done his homework. He knows that re-initiating the spree he went on a year ago would draw me out, but I think he wants more than that.”
“Yeah, he wants you dead, white man.”
“Exactly, but just getting me out of hiding isn’t going to make that happen. He has to get me vulnerable and unprotected.”
The look on his face told me that my comment was merely verbal corroboration for his own theory. “So killin’ Randy was his way of tryin’ to piss you off then. Just like the note about Felicity.”
“And knock me off balance. That’s how I see it, anyway,” I agreed and then continued with an explanation of Coven dynamics. “Groups like ours are literally a family unit within Pagan culture. There is a bond within a core of a Coven that can often times be stronger than blood relation. Going after any one of these kids is the same as going after one of my own. It’s the difference between killing a stranger and killing a family member.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I had a feelin’ that’s what this was all about. I just wanted to hear it from you before I opened my mouth.”
“Glad I could help,” I replied, my voice short on emotion.
“You’re right,” he told me. “He’s not stupid. You came after him by yourself once, so he figures he can make it happen again.”
“Yeah. Simple as it sounds, I’d have to say that’s his plan.”
“Well, he’s screwed ‘cause you ain’t gonna do that, white man.”
“That remains to be seen.”
My friend took on a hard expression and thrust two fingers stiffly against my chest. “That wasn’t a question, Row. It was a statement of fact. You’re NOT doin’ it. Not this time.”
“Okay,” I returned in order to appease him.
“I’m serious as a heart attack, white man,” he detailed, still trying to keep his voice low as it developed a stern edge. “This ain’t Hollywood. The sonofabitch wants to kill you.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware of that, Ben,” I told him.
“Yeah, well we’re not talkin’ videogame dead here, Row. We’re talkin’ about the real thing. For keeps.”
“Yeah, Ben. I know,” I answered, my hackles raising a bit at once again being treated like a child.
He splayed his hands out in a gesture that visibly told me to stop and that it was the end of the discussion. “Listen, don’t make me lock your ass up just to keep you outta this.”
“Okay, fine,” I answered curtly. “You win.”
Thick tension hung between us for a measured beat, eventually softening but never really dissipating entirely.
“So is there anyone else we should know about?” Ben finally asked. “Former Coven members? Anyone like that?”
“No, not that I can think of off hand.” I shook my head as I ticked off the points. “No one has left this group since Felicity and I adopted it. I’ve practiced solitary most of my life. And, the only other Coven I was truly a member of dissolved a long time ago.”
“Any of the members still around?”
“Not in Saint Louis,” I replied. “It was a fairly small group, and we only split because everyone but me ended up moving out of state.”
“What about family? Like your old man?”
“He’s out of town right now. Besides, he won’t go after a non-Pagan. Not intentionally.”
“You sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
“‘Pretty sure’ don’t cut it.” He reached up to massage his neck, and was obviously pondering something. After a moment he seemed to make a decision and spoke again. “Well, if your old man is out of town, we’re covered there. What about your sister?”
“Ironically, she’s in Germany right now. Her husband is stationed there with the Army.”
“Okay, well I think we should have someone keep an eye on Felicity’s family just to be safe.”
“Shamus will love that,” I muttered sarcastically.
My wife’s father was not exactly what you would call a big fan of mine. Truth was, he believed that I had corrupted his daughter and diverted her from Christianity. He refused to take into account that she was already walking a Pagan path when I met her. At any rate, my dealings with the Major Case Squad investigating occult- related crimes were nothing less than fuel for his disdain. This would just stoke that fire.
“Yeah, well he’ll just have to live with it,” Ben returned.
The muffled but cheerful warble of a ring tone started behind me, and my friend reached around to his coat and searched through a pocket. I stepped to the side as he withdrew his cell phone, quickly perused the display, then stabbed it on and stuck it to his ear.
“Yeah, Helen, thanks for calling back,” he spoke into the device.
The name struck a chord, and I knew immediately that the individual at the other end had to be his sister, Helen Storm. She was a psychiatrist and probably one of the most understanding individuals I had ever met. Ben had talked me into making an appointment with her just recently when the nightmares about the horrors I had seen started becoming too much to handle. I had made that first visit under duress but quickly struck up a friendship with her.
Unlike her brother, Helen fully embraced her Native American heritage. While I was never able to pin her down on anything, something told me there was more to the woman than just the framed diploma on her wall- something mystical, in fact.
“Uh-huh, I’m afraid so,” Ben continued. “Yeah, that was us. They didn’t waste any time gettin' it on the air, did they?… Yeah, I know… No, he’s okay. For the time being anyway… Yeah… Well, he’s in the middle of it whether I like it or not, so there’s not a lot I can do… Uh-huh, that’s what I’m thinkin’… Yeah… Uh-huh… So, what’s your schedule lookin’ like today? Any chance you could come over?… That’d be great… Yeah… In the city, on Arkansas. ‘Bout a block off Grand… I can give ya’ directions… Okay, lemme check…”
My friend twisted the phone away from his mouth and shot me a questioning look. “She wants to know if Nancy is gonna be okay with havin’ a shrink show up? Whaddaya think?”
I started to open my mouth to answer but never got that far. My lips froze as I shuddered, every nerve ending in my body jangling as though each was connected directly to an electrical wall socket. The involuntary jerking motion was immediately joined by an excruciating pain that lanced sharply through my head. The rush of blood in my ears rose and fell, only to be replaced suddenly by the violent sound of a horrified scream.
The muted light in the entryway strobed to unbearable brightness then collapsed in on itself. Color faded, leaving the scene before me a grainy black and white representation of its former self, depicted in overblown cartoon contrast.
I heard my friend’s concerned voice call my name in a long, slow-motion drone as I began physically slipping downward.
My knees announced their displeasure with the situation as they thudded on the hardwood, and I continued to literally vibrate. I could feel my fingernails cutting into my palms as my hands involuntarily twisted into clawed fists. I was gnashing my teeth, and I could taste blood in my mouth from where I was repeatedly biting my tongue.
However, at this particular moment, any concerns I had for those problems gave way to the fact that the
