The Amber Lee Boxed Set

  The buildings went as far back as the 1700’s, though no one was able to figure out exactly why they had been abandoned or why they were found almost a foot under the earth. Though the officials who studied the site later went on to decide that the collapse of a silver mine located directly beneath the area was responsible for the event, it didn’t account for the fact that the buildings were found perfectly upright and in relatively great condition.

  Some folks who were interviewed about it said there was never any silver mine out there, but rather an extensive labyrinth of sacred caves belonging to the Native Americans, and that the old mine town had been swallowed by vengeful old spirits. Others said it had been buried in an avalanche… an avalanche in California.

  Whatever had gone on, it seemed to us that the old village of Missington was a clear lead, so we didn’t waste any time in making tracks for it. As we drove, familiar suburbs gave way to trees, the warm orange glow of civilization faded into the night mist, and soon the street-lights disappeared too until we were the only car on the quiet road out of town.

  The journey wasn’t a long one, but the silence gave me time to despite the fact that, these days, I didn’t at all enjoy being alone with my thoughts. The cabaret of questions resumed its number and bombarded me unsolvable riddles, one after the other, until I felt the car come to a screeching halt and the dancers went tumbling to the floor.

  A “ROAD CLOSED” sign, with its flashing amber lights, glared back at us from the road. Behind it, the remnants of a huge, fallen tree was blocking the road.

  “Typical,” Frank said.

  But something didn’t feel right.

  “How far away are we?” I asked.

  “About a quarter mile,” Damien said. “We can walk that far.”

  We pulled the car to the side of the road and disembarked into the cold night air without giving it much more thoughts. Out here the woods were blanketed white; black trees rose out of the snow, their crooked black branches like crone fingers jutting skyward, the night was crisp, and lazy snowflakes collected on my hair and face. It was also silent. Not even a breeze. Soon, the only sounds we would hear would be our own feet crunching on powdered snow and wet leaves.

  Careful not to fall over, we navigated the dark woods choosing to walk parallel to the road. I wanted to concentrate on what was about to happen, on what we may encounter at the ruins, and whether or not the other Witch could see us feeling our way between the withered old trees. But my mind insisted on circling back to how cool Damien had been about my speaking to Aaron. Well, at least once he learned I hadn’t had sex with my ex.

  But… he had been cool with it even before I said that, hadn’t he?

  I mean, we’re talking about the guy who had fought with Damien on the street and gotten him arrested. The same guy who later professed to… well, if not loving me, then at least caring about me enough to want to have a relationship with me. Did Damien not see Aaron as a threat, or did he trust me implicitly? I wasn’t sure how I felt about the former, but the latter did give me some comfort. I hadn’t given Damien a reason not to trust me, after all. And I did trust him.

  Damien had been sweet to me over the last few months and offered me nothing but attention and affection. We learned Magick together and even practiced together. We were both happy to have Frank in our lives, complimented each other’s personalities, and hardly fought about stupid things. And whenever we did fight we would make up fast and wind up in bed together for more attention and affection.

  We gave each other plenty of space, too, which fit my personality perfectly because a stifling relationship would have sent me running for the hills. Being with Damien didn’t only feel convenient, it felt right. So why was I all bent out of shape about how easily he had accepted my hanging out with Aaron?

  Then I felt something crawl up my arm—a kind of coldness that seemed to have penetrated my clothes and touched my very skin.

  “She’s here with the others.” The voice was a whisper, but I heard it as if it had been said next to me.

  I stopped in my tracks and checked my surroundings.

  “She must come alone.” The voice came again, though it was different. Female, maybe. The cold travelled to my ribs and caused them to ache.

  “G-guys,” I said.

  They stopped and turned.

  “What is it?” Damien asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I just heard someone speak to me.”

  Damien and Frank put their backs to each other and looked around. Nothing was moving in the quiet woods, not even the trees, but something was out there. I could feel it, and now they could too. Shapes in the mist, footsteps on the snow, voices in the wind.

  Damien spun around hard, wide-eyed with fear.

  “Damien?” I said.

  “I heard it too!” He closed his palm into a fist and a shimmer of light birthed into existence between his fingertips. I could feel his Magick, pulsing outwards from his body in like ripples in a pond. Push, push, push. It was strong and white and pure, and the feeling I got from it fought back the cold cutting into my flesh. But if we were dealing with Witches then it meant… oh no!

  “They know,” said the voice, “Kill the men.”

  A hooded man materialized from behind a tree and dashed toward Damien with a brandished blade glinting against the moonlight. I screamed. Damien turned just in time to duck out of the blade’s path but he lost his footing and landed in the snow. I honed in on the assailant’s weapon, grabbed it with my mind, and sent it hurtling into a nearby tree.

  Damien kicked the man’s knee but it had no effect. He may as well have kicked a boulder! The man grabbed Damien by the neck and lifted him three clear feet above the snow but Frank, who was already on his way, grabbed hold of the man’s hood, and pulled it back, and planted his fingers on the attacker’s cheek from behind.

  I didn’t know what I expected to see beneath the hood; maybe some kind of Zombie or a Vampire—to explain how he was super strong and fast—but he was just a man… and after only moments of contact with Frank, he was a man beside himself with terror. The wail that escaped his mouth exploded into the dark woods, sending a murder of crows scattering into the air, cawing and flapping their black wings.

  Damien fell to the ground and scrambled to get back on his feet, standing upright only a few paces away. Frank had by now forced the hooded man to his knees with the power of whatever dark Magick he was wielding, but as much as Frank demanded answers, the man didn’t speak; he could only breathe short, panicked breaths.

  Terrified breaths.

  I clenched my fists and the Power buzzed within me, energizing my body and heightening my senses.

  “Where are the others?” I yelled.

  “Others?” Damien asked.

  “I heard more of them!”

  Damien looked around but his eyes then settled upon me again and I saw the blood drain from his face. “Amber, look out!” he said.

  But it was too late. A fist curled around my hair and yanked so hard I fell to the ground on my back. The person who had grabbed me started to pull me along the snow, the pain in my scalp burning like fire. Damien yelled and gave chase, but my attacker was fast. Real fast. I felt like was flying over the snow like a sled pulled by dogs!

  Concentrating was difficult, but I steadied myself by grabbing a hold of the man’s arm and called to the Watchtower of the South in my mind. Straight away the clouds began to churn. Thunder roared and lightning cracked. A ghastly wind whistled through the trees and I knew that the Goddess had heard me.

  But something was wrong.

  My floating mind hit a kind of static wall, and my connection to the Watchtower felt somehow barred. It was an alien energy that I couldn’t identify. I knew the tower’s light was there, waiting for me to reach it, but I couldn’t reach any further and the Magick started to slip from my grasp.

  The churning, rumbling clouds and whipping lightning remained, but without me to guide the Magick, all the power of the Sou
th was harmless: a wolf without teeth, a knife with no edge, or a gun with no bullets. But the man let go of my hair and I was, somehow, free again. So I pushed myself to my feet and turned around to find my attacker backing away, his eyes trailing on me. Only he wasn’t alone. Behind him was a set of half-buried buildings I had never seen before; and other hooded people.

  “Who are you?” I demanded.

  The man before me spoke in Latin, and though I couldn’t understand the string of words he had lain at my feet, it felt like an invitation into a pit of snakes and I was.

  “Chosen?” I said. I understood only that word. “Chosen for what?”

  “Nuptis profanum,” the man said, smirking beneath his hood.

  Nuptis… what?

  I couldn’t feel The Power within me anymore. My calls to the Watchtower went unanswered, replaced instead by a kind of hiss. The cold air turned hot and stifling in seconds, and the cadre of hooded people started their slow march toward me. Ten, twenty, or fifty, I couldn’t tell how many there were; but I wasn’t about to stick around to find out.

  I turned around and ran as fast as I could, following the trail my body had made as it was dragged through the woods. Behind me I could hear the rustling of footsteps and the shuffling of bodies and another bout of déjà vu came to me. I had been here before, chased by larger, more powerful legs in woods I didn’t know. History was repeating itself all over again, only this time the people chasing me were Witches.

  Through the trees I caught sight of Damien running through the woods. By the sight of his panting breaths, his flushed cheeks, and the grunts he was making as he ran I knew that he had been playing catch up all this time. Frank wasn’t far behind, and he too was panting hard. How far had I been carried?

  “Damien!” I screamed. “They’re after me!”

  “Who?”

  “Them!”

  He saw them when he looked over my shoulder, but when I ran past him he didn’t move.

  “Damien?” I said, “We have to go!”

  But he didn’t listen. As the horde of hooded people approached, Damien clasped his palms together in the shape of a bowl, whispered, and released hundreds of silver orbs into the sky. The slivers of light burned with the radiance of the moon, bathing the forest in beautiful, entrancing silver sparkles. Only this time the light show didn’t repel—or even so much as faze—the incoming crowd. The lights fell, limp into the snow, and a cold dread gripped my heart.

  There was no stopping them.

  “Run!” Frank grabbed my hand and pulled us away.

  I didn’t hesitate. The three of us ran together as fast as we could through the forest, our feet beating down on slush and sleet until we reached the road—and the car. I couldn’t understand why those men, at least one of which I knew was faster than a bolt of lightning, hadn’t caught up to us. Nor could I understand how we had reached the car so quickly and without stopping to check our bearings. But I didn’t question any of it.

  Heart pounding, I dove into the car, slammed the door shut and waited; watching the trees for any sign of the men in hoods. Nothing. Quiet.

  “Hurry!” I said to Damien as he fumbled with the keys, but the car didn’t start.

  Then I saw shadows in the woods, dark figures fast approaching from between the black trees. There were so many of them that they all seemed to blur into one thick, black mass. Writhing around like a solid creature made of shadow; a shadow so dark it seemed to consume the entire forest as it marched implacably towards us.

  “Damien!” I said.

  The car choked, grumbled, and then roared to life. Damien backed up until he gained enough speed to pull a fast U-turn, then he shifted the car into gear and gunned it down the road. I didn’t see the hooded men—or the black mass—run after us, nor did anyone jump out from the trees. But it wasn’t until I saw the first harsh yellow light of civilization that I allowed myself a moment to breathe.

  We had escaped, only I couldn’t shake the feeling that they had allowed us to leave.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My scalp was throbbing. I tucked my head between my knees and ran my fingers through my hair to sooth the burning ache, but even the slightest touch to my head sent screaming pain ripping through me. That guy was way too strong and way too fast to have been an ordinary human, but if he wasn’t human then what was he? I thought he was a Witch. We all did. But his speed and strength… and why did Damien’s power not hurt him this time?

  “Are you alright?” Damien asked.

  I looked up and caught his hazel eyes in the rear-view. “Yeah,” I said, “What about you, Frank?” I asked.

  “Dandy,” he said.

  Frank hadn’t held back with his Magick. I recalled the shrill, almost high-frequency pulse I detected when Frank wielded his Magick—like nails on a chalkboard—and how the guy went down as fast as he had. I had never seen anyone so wracked with fear before, and all that from mere contact with Frank’s fingers. What happened inside that man’s head? Had Frank forced grotesque images into the man’s mind? Showed him the way in which he would die? Or infused him with all the pain Frank felt growing up?

  I didn’t dare ask.

  “Does anyone know what the fuck all that was about?” I asked.

  “You tell us. You heard the voices,” Frank said.

  Deep breaths helped me formulate my sentences. “They could see us,” I said, “And I think they knew who we were.”

  “What else did they say to you, Amber?” Damien asked.

  Nuptis profanum.

  “Nothing,” I lied. I didn’t know why I had chosen to lie in that instant, but keeping the truth from Damien seemed like the right thing to do. He would just worry and not get any sleep tonight. And we all needed rest. I needed rest too. But I was used to working on less sleep than Damien.

  “We should stay together tonight,” I said.

  “No,” Frank said, “I have work to get on with at home. Take me there.”

  “Work? What kind of work?”

  “Someone has to try and figure out a way to mask us from these guys, and since your shrine is at your place—which is probably being watched—and I’m sure my home is secure, I’ll do it there.”

  “Then we’ll all stay at your place.”

  “It’s cute that you think we all have to snuggle up to keep warm for the night, but Damien’s place is only a ten minute sprint from mine and we all have cell phones we can use. Just go to Damien’s and keep him safe.”

  Damien’s face twisted into a bemused scowl.

  “What about you, though?” I asked, “What if they somehow find you?”

  Frank paused. I caught him thumbing a necklace around his neck; a brazen five pointed star without a ring around it. “I have my own tricks, witch. Don’t worry your pretty little copper head about me.”

  I didn’t need any further reassurance. We dropped Frank off at his place downtown and made the short trip to Damien’s, stopping in silence in the parking lot to take stock of what had just happened. Or maybe to watch for signs of any hooded men that may have followed us all the way from the woods.

  Judging by the speed at which the man who pulled me could run, I didn’t think it impossible.

  “Long day, huh?” I said.

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Damien said. He brushed hair out of his face and sighed.

  “Are you alright, though?”

  “I am.”

  “You don’t seem it.”

  “Let’s just get upstairs and end this night, okay?. We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

  I nodded.

  What else was there to do?

  We stepped out of the car and in the short walk to Damien’s apartment I afforded myself one more dip into my own thoughts, running through everything again. Long day? More like long week. I wanted it to end. All of it. I couldn’t believe that after Mabon I would find myself in a similar situation in such a short amount of time. Is this what a Witch’s life is like? Dealing with one crisis af
ter another? I didn’t know how much more I could take.

  Everything that could be happening was happening.

  In one week I had lost my place at college, created a rift with my best friend, and lied to my boyfriend. Sure, I had gained a few things in the last few months—like my friendship with Frank and all my teaching as a True Witch—but that happened gradually, over time. I felt like, in one single stroke, the house I was building had been blown away by a big, bad wolf; and I was still reeling from it all.

  A nice warm bed, a cup of coco, and a movie would do me a world of good. That and of course having Damien’s arms wrapped around me; let’s not forget, I had a boyfriend who enjoyed spooning nearly as much as I did. And in my state, I could have done with a warm, comfortable spoon.

  But then we got to Damien’s front door, and it was ajar.

  I froze. Damien extended his hand and tucked me away behind his back. I heard movement coming from inside. Boots? Somebody was in Damien’s house, but I couldn’t see whom. Not again. Not again!

  Damien approached the door. I could hear him swallow in the dead silence of the hallway. I curled my hands into fists and, on cue, the Power returned to me with a familiar adrenalizing vibration. With no time to question why I couldn’t call it when I needed it back in the woods, I wrapped myself inside the Power and prepared to blow apart whoever was on the other side of the door. The whole world could go to hell right now. All I wanted was a moment alone with my boyfriend, dammit!

  As I approached I noticed a faint glow coming from inside, stuttering and flickering. Was someone watching TV? Damien craned his neck, looked at me, and then shoved the door open. We followed the swing of the door, rushing inside like a couple of vice detectives on a drug bust and startling the brunette woman sitting on Damien’s sofa. She was in the process of unraveling a purple scarf before we came in, and not looting Damien’s electronics.