Chapter Thirty-One
In the manor, in the now, books flew off the shelves of the library. Windows slashed open, and a storm, raging, whipped in. With the dogs barking wildly, the cat hissing like a snake, Trey and Cleo rushed to the terrace doors, pushing, pushing against the whirling wind.
Cracks opened in the ceiling, and blood dripped through them.
“She won’t stop now,” Cleo shouted. “She can’t.”
“We’re going to stop her.”
They managed to close the doors, and when Trey moved to deal with the windows, Cleo’s side flew open again and knocked her flat.
“I’m all right! I’m all right! Close it if you can.”
As she spoke, Owen and Sonya spilled out of the mirror and slid to the floor.
Trey pulled Cleo up before he rushed to them.
“Need a minute. Do we have time?” Her hand trembled as she lifted it to Trey’s face. “You’re soaked.”
“It’s nothing.” He gathered her into his arms, rocked.
“Time,” Owen managed.
“Shit. Distracted.” Trey hit the stopwatch. “Twenty-eight minutes, three seconds. You look like hell.”
“Feel the same. Two more,” he managed as Cleo dropped down to hold him. “We’ve got two more in us.”
“Let me get the doors shut again.”
“Forget them. Let her blow.” Shoving at her hair, Sonya pushed to her feet. “The cold air’s waking me up. Catherine’s next. It’s okay, Yoda. It’s okay. Downstairs.”
Fog laced the floors, but the cold didn’t sting. She’s not as strong as she was, Sonya thought. But neither am I.
She looked down at her hands, at the rings. The one Trey had given her, and all the others.
Not as strong as I was, she thought again.
But she would be.
“Catherine.” Sonya spoke over the banging, the clanging bong of the doorbell, the rush of wind, the snap and sizzle of lightning.
“We need to go to Catherine on her wedding night. Here where she wandered in a trance. Here before Dobbs drew her out into a blizzard and her death. We need to take back what was stolen from her so we can give it back.”
She pressed one hand to her spinning head while Owen gripped the other. With a nod, she went through with him.
The manor held dark and quiet.
“Can’t see a fucking thing,” Owen began. “It’s as dark as dark gets.”
“She came down the stairs, and—”
Then they both saw it.
The single light from a single candle illuminated the woman coming slowly down the stairs. In her nightdress, Catherine walked in her trance, her eyes open and blank, her lips curved in a dreamy smile.
Sonya didn’t hesitate, and didn’t wait, but moved through the dark toward her. “I’m sorry I can’t save you.”
She took Catherine’s left hand, slipped the ring off, then onto her own.
Catherine continued to walk, dreamlike, toward the massive front doors. Opening one, she stepped out into the thick wall of snow.
Owen took Sonya’s hand. “One to go.”
Sonya’s knees wanted to buckle, but she refused to let them. And forgot the weakness when they came back to the dark cut through by a pair of flashlights.
She saw the blood on Trey’s face.
“You’re bleeding.”
“She aimed at me. He got in the way.”
“Just a flesh wound, cutie. Winged a vase at me.”
“At me,” Cleo corrected. “The man moves fast.”
“When I need to. One more, okay, cutie?” He pressed kisses to her face. “Just one more.”
“I know.” Then she let out a surprised laugh. “I feel better. I feel … good.”
“That’s one of us,” Owen said. “How long?”
“Fifteen and forty-seven. Plenty of time left.”
“Whatever’s left, it’ll be enough. We’ve got to get back upstairs.”
They moved through the curling fog. The front doors slammed open as they started up the steps.
“Watch out for flying objects,” Cleo advised. “She’s weaker, I really think she is, but she’s a lot angrier.”
“She doesn’t understand what’s happening, not really.” Buoyant now, Sonya took Cleo’s hand. “She had seven rings, and now she only has one. She doesn’t understand.”
“And maybe doesn’t remember. We’re intruders, that might be all she knows.”
“Keep your bitchfork handy because we’re nearly done.”
Smoke filled the hallway, smoke that stank of sulfur. Through it, they walked to the bedroom.
She did feel better, Sonya realized. No, not just better. Energized.
“Astrid.” She had to shout over booms of thunder. “We need to see Astrid on her wedding day when she comes here to take a moment to herself. To study herself in the mirror … God, this mirror. I didn’t think—”
“Keep going,” Owen said.
“We need to take what was stolen from her so we can give it back.”
“This is the last time.” Trey kissed her. “We’ll be waiting.”
They stepped through, and stood face-to-face with Astrid Grandville Poole.
In her bridal white, she reared back, eyes wide as she gasped.
“What witchery is this!”
“Astrid. No, don’t run. Owen.”
“Take it easy,” he said, and took her arms.
Terrified, Astrid struck out, shoved. Weakened, Owen tumbled back through the mirror.
“Knocked down by a girl.” He lifted a hand so Trey could pull him up.
But when he tried to go back, the mirror’s glass proved solid.
“Goddamn it, it’s not letting me through. It’s not the same. It’s not letting me go back.”
“She’s alone over there.” Trey pressed a hand to the glass. “She’s alone.”
On the other side, Sonya held up her hands. “Astrid. Look at my eyes. I’m from Collin. I’m Sonya Poole.”
“No, no. What manner of dress is this? You came through the mirror. It’s sorcery!”
“But not my sorcery. You play the piano. You play ‘Barbara Allen’ when you’re sad. You had a party and you played the piano. Collin turned the pages. A woman knitted.”
As she described the scene she’d witnessed, Astrid backed away.
“Go back. Go back where you came from.”
“I will. But I need something first. We don’t have much time. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She gripped Astrid’s left wrist.
Astrid went still. She looked in Sonya’s eyes.
“Death upon death, she brings to us. The brides of Poole Manor. Take the ring, the first she stole when she spilled my blood, when she took my life. Know it frees us, but does not, it will not, end her.”
Astrid took off the ring herself, held it out. “I give it, and freely. Seven were taken, seven are found, seven are given.”
“Thank you.”
“She comes. And time runs out. Go quickly, end her reign of death. End her.”
“We will. I swear it.”
When she went through, Trey scooped her up, held her hard and close. “You’re back. You came back.”
“Woo. What a ride.”
Like a mile-long descent on a wild roller coaster.
“It wouldn’t let me in. I couldn’t get through again.”
As she held just as tightly to Trey, she turned her head to Owen. “I guess the last—or the first—was meant for just me.”
“That’s what I told him.” But Cleo wrapped around Sonya.
Owen rolled his eyes. “First knocked down by a girl, now giving a group hug.”
One he couldn’t quite admit felt good.
“How long that time?”
“Thirty-six brutal minutes and six seconds.”
“We should hurry.”
“We’ve got time. Here.” Cleo passed Sonya a fresh Coke. “Recharge some. She has been.”
“I’m so charged!” But she gulped down Coke. “She hasn’t been raging like this the whole time?”
“She shuts it down for five or six minutes, then starts it all over again. I think the pets are going to need therapy. Let’s get your jacket.” Cleo kissed Sonya’s cheek. “And we’ll take it outside.”
“Astrid. Something changed when I touched her. It was like she knew—like Clover and Marianne.”
Words tumbled out. Where she’d felt weak, queasy, dizzy, she now felt pumped with pure adrenaline and an espresso chaser.
“She knew so she gave me her ring. She said it would free them, but wouldn’t end Dobbs. Just as you said.”
“We’re going to do that—all of us.”
“I promised her we would. So, Cleo, this better work. Let’s go, let’s do this! Wow, I feel a little drunk, a lot high, but in an amazing way. Let’s go send that bitch back to hell.”
“Okay, cutie.” As he took her hand to slow her down, Trey shot a look at Owen and Cleo.
“It’s the rings.” Much more delighted than concerned, Cleo shot out a grin. “It’s having all seven. It’s power.”
Cleo tossed a jacket over Sonya’s shoulders while Sonya turned to Owen. “I’m traveling at the speed of light.”
“Seems like it.” Trey bundled her into the jacket, though with the heat pumping off her now, he wondered if she’d need it. “No keeping the dogs and Pye in the house. She’s still in here, and—”
He snagged a candlestick out of the air. “She’s only going to get worse.”
Owen carried the copper pot Cleo took out of the closet. “We may need them anyway.”
Trey kept a firm hand on Sonya, and felt her vibrate. “I don’t like leaving her alone in the house when she’s peaking like this.”
“She’s not alone.” As they stepped out, as the wind struck, Sonya lifted her face to it. “They’re all here. All of them. Can’t you feel them?”
The door slammed, a bullet from a gun, behind them.
“And they’re stronger now.”
The dogs raced as dogs will as they walked to the seawall.
“Circle first.” Cleo took the bag of salt from the pot, and used the words her grandmother had given her. “Here before the three o’clock hour, we four cast our circle of power. Within its ring we abide to break the curse on manor and bride.
“Light the candles. One for each of us.”
She took her own, and the globe to shield the flame.
“Against the dark we bring the light to end the witch’s reign this night.”
They looked up as something flew out of the Gold Room window. It screamed, set the dogs to barking. Then simply sputtered into a thin smoke.
“She’s weaker there,” Trey murmured.
“She won’t be when she comes here.” Sonya looked up at the three-quarter moon. “We’ll be in her world then. But…” Almost giddy, Sonya held up her hands so the rings caught the moonlight.
“She doesn’t have these. Seven rings and mine makes eight. Circles of love stand against hate. The blood she spilled through generations leads to her eternal damnation.”
Sonya blinked. “Wow. Where did that come from?”
“I’d say these.” Trey folded his hands over hers.
“This is getting seriously weird.”