Brielle moves forward to get her mother, to pull her back to safety, but Millie stops her.
She’s our key, Millie says. She’s going to open the gateway to the other side for us. It’s the only way!
She could be killed, Daphne cries.
She won’t be, Cash adds.
And so, Ruth continues, putting herself into a trance with the black mirror.
Suddenly, an onslaught of animals charges toward us and the others behind us. Wolves, ravens, bats, and snakes, all hell-bent on stopping everything we’re doing.
Witches cry out in pain, dying in horrible slaughter. But then they gasp, the way Lucy did yesterday, and stand back up again.
Horace rages.
I watch in horror as a gray wolf charges Daphne.
Just like it did in my premonition.
But it doesn’t take her down. To my utter shock and delight, she holds up a hand, and the wolf stops in its tracks, whimpering before it disappears.
She looks to her right and stops cold. A huge wolf didn’t scare her in the least, but whatever she sees now has her face pale, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
I follow her gaze.
Her father.
Only you can stop him, I remind her telepathically. You’re not a little girl anymore, Daphne.
She takes a deep breath, tightening her jaw, and I know that she’s ready to kick that motherfucker’s ass.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Daphne
It’s as if all of the chaos around me is suddenly just…gone.
All I can see is him.
The man who’s tormented me for all of my life—first when he was alive, and then from beyond the grave. The one just yards from where I stand, in the rose garden beside the house.
He smiles and shows me those awful teeth, his eyes full of gleeful torment.
And then he starts walking right toward me.
“You can’t hurt me anymore, you piece of shit,” I yell. “You can’t scare me!”
Suddenly, he reaches out and wraps his hands around my neck. He can touch me. He can hurt me.
He squeezes.
I hear the others around me, yelling and fighting off the animals and shadows.
And for just a brief moment, I can’t breathe.
That awful mouth widens as he squeezes harder. For a moment, I’m so terrified, I just freeze.
You’re not a little girl. It’s Jackson’s voice in my head. Oh, Goddess, what if I never see him again. What if this man kills me, after all? And all of this is for nothing.
We lose.
“No.” I grip his wrists in my hands and use all my energy. The fire spell that Lucien sends into my head takes shape, and I burn the son of a bitch.
He recoils, and I fall to my feet.
“You can’t hurt me anymore. You’re nothing, Adam Landry. You have no place here—at this house, or anywhere else. The only place you belong is in the dirt.”
I’m walking forward, pushing him back. So many years of anger fuel me, so much frustration and hurt and sadness.
“I don’t know what we ever did to you to deserve this horror, but it’s over. Do you understand me? It’s done.”
We’re standing in the rose bushes. The one place on this Earth that once filled me with more terror than any other in my life.
But not anymore.
“You’re dead. I’m alive. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”
I hold up my hands and feel a new wind swirl around me, pushing energy into me, through me as fuel. It could be coming from the army behind me or the other five. Maybe both.
Or perhaps it’s my magic. Power that has always been inside of me. Something I didn’t even know I had. I feel it building, pushing me.
I shove him, physically push my father back down to the earth and use a little spell that I learned years ago in my early days with the coven.
A simple one that’s been with me all of these years.
“You’ve sent me strife and brought me pain. None of this shall be again. Off you go, you must flee. I turn this torment back on thee. As I will it, so mote it be.”
Over and over, I repeat the spell as he writhes and cries and is absorbed back into the earth.
Back into his grave.
When I look up, I see the five now surround me as the other witches pour salt counterclockwise in a circle.
“Good girl,” Jackson murmurs and kisses my forehead. “Now, for the grand finale.”
“Not quite yet,” Lucien says grimly as we retake our places. More salt is poured. Candles carved with ritual symbols are set out. Once in place, Lucien lights them all. “First, we have to summon more of an army. He won’t go gently into this not-so-quiet night.”
“The animals are gone,” I say in surprise.
“You were a little busy with other things,” Millie says with a wink. “The moon is waxing now. It’s time to call on the deities and summon the spirits.”
I don’t know these spells by heart, but I open myself and raise my hands with the others, watching as the sky opens above us. It’s like something out of a movie.
Jackson’s parents are suddenly there, along with our grandmother. People we must have known in previous lives.
Even men in uniform, Jack’s fellow soldiers that he lost in battle, they are all with us.
But if we’re able to summon, so is Horace.
And he has.
The ground trembles, the earth shifts and lifts, and suddenly swallows the house whole, right before our very eyes.
More shadows than I’ve ever seen before pour out of what must be the gates of hell, the place the house once stood, crawling like spiders and slithering like snakes.
Our families surround us now, all of them standing close by. Oliver and Miss Annabelle stand behind Jackson. Gwyneth and Aiden with Lucien. We have Miss Sophia and our coven family right here with us, too.
Mama’s sweating, but she’s still in her trance, her scrying mirror clutched firmly in her hands.
And when the moon is full and bright once more, she begins to shout.
“The door is open!” she cries. “It’s time!”
The six of us join hands, and as chaos reigns around us, as the spirits we’ve summoned fight the demons, we step through the doorway that Mama unlocked and begin our final spell.
“Lords of the watchtowers of the east,
Lords of air,
We do summon, call and stir you up
To witness our rites and guard our circle!
Lords of the watchtowers of the south,
Lords of fire,
We do summon, call and stir you up
To witness our rites and guard our circle!
Lords of the watchtowers of the west,
Lords of water,
We do summon, call and stir you up
To witness our rites and guard our circle!
Lords of the watchtowers of the north,
Lords of earth,
We do summon, call and stir you up
To witness our rites and guard our circle!
Mother Earth, we call on you!
Father Sky, we call on you!”
Horace appears before us, pacing and shaking his head.
“It won’t work,” he says, his voice taunting. “You can’t be rid of me, girls. No matter what you try or where you go, I’ll always be here. Ready to punish you. Ready to remind you of who you are and everything you can be. Why are you making this so hard?”