Haunting Me (An Angel Falls Book 3) Read online

“Finish this Liam. I have a life to return to.”

  There’s no reply. I turn in a slow circle waiting, watching, listening. I can’t sense him anywhere. Then I see the faint golden glow in the small window of his bungalow.

  I will myself to its front stoop. “Don’t make me kill you, O’Flannagain.”

  “Ye’ve no heart for murder and we both know it,” he says from the other side of the door.

  I let go of my physical form and reappear inside.

  Liam sits on the cot, smearing a tar colored salve on his lower ribcage. A mini crossbow, his pack, and the discarded gloves lay next to him.

  “Why the games?” I say, still on edge from our clash outside.

  “Tis’ not a game,” he sneers.

  “Then why are you letting your guard down now?”

  “Ye’ll never last a second on this side of life with that trusting manner of yers.”

  “Tell me how you fell and let me worry about the after effects.”

  “She’ll die, or leave ye, and ye’ll be stuck here without her.”

  “Is that what happened to you? Is that why you’re such an ass?”

  “Never speak of my deceased wife again.” His hand moves to the crossbow at his side.

  “Shoot me, Liam. You know it won’t do anything.”

  He’s too fast to comprehend as he lifts the weapon, points, and shoots. I watch the arrow pass through me and hear it stick into the door at my back, but what really makes the moment memorable is I’m suddenly in horrific, howling pain as fire just tore through me and left a path of scorching agony in my outer thigh.

  “Too bad ye’re not more acquainted with the ancient arts. It serves well in both the physical and spirit realms.”

  Shaking with anger and suppressed pain, I grit my teeth and hold back from trying to rip his head off. He has the little bow reloaded and aimed higher. Anticipation is stamped across his cocked eyebrow.

  “You’ve made your point. Now tell me if we’re finished here. I have a client to attend to.”

  “I suppose ye’ve won two of the three rounds,” he concedes as he sets the bow down and reaches for his shirt with one hand while his other aged hand holds his broken ribs. “Aye. It has come to this at last. I’m beaten by a young one. Tell me, is Vivian still with us?”

  “I’ve told you before. I don’t share my client’s information.”

  “That’s a shame. Well then, tell her I’ve done me best to watch over Eileen. She and the wee páistís are on their way for a visit. If her heart is still beating, that is.” He glares at me from the corner of his eye as he slips his shirt on. His tone is a mocking challenge to admit she’s alive. He must know she is.

  “To Colorado? With the kids?” I ask trying to make sense of his mixed Gaelic and English.

  “Aye. I’ve shared Vivian’s story with her at long last. Perhaps Eileen will understand now she has páistís — children — of her own.”

  “You’ve watched over her all these years. Why?”

  He moves to the table at the back of the cottage and picks up a tall bottle. He pours the liquor into a pewter mug and drinks before answering. “My beloved Kathleen needed to be there for the girl after Vivian was gone. Eileen became her cuisle mo chroí. The pulse of her heart. Now go away. Killing isn’t as difficult for me as it is for ye.”

  “Our deal, Liam. How did you do it?”

  “Dry yer arse and find a feckin’ replacement. A willing participant is a fair bit easier, but using force will do as well.”

  Find someone to take my place? “It can’t be that easy,” I say in disbelief.

  “Nothing about life is easy, boyo.”

  “Tell me.” The ache in my leg is screaming. It’s worse than the wound on my arm from the athame, but I’m not surprised. The witch’s magical blade had only cut. The dart had gone straight through. I bite down harder and watch Liam prolong our misadventure. My arm healed completely, save for a scar. I have to wonder if the dart wound will heal or if it will fester. Liam’s magic seems more powerful than the magic in the blade. Either way, it’s weakening me, and I despise it.

  Liam sets down the cup and moves to the black case lying on the far end of the cot. He’s careful not to bend or twist too much with freshly cracked ribs. I must have broken him well. He probably shot me as payback. He clicks open the latches and flips open the hard cover. Inside is a viola, its polished wood gleaming even in the low lantern light. Liam doesn’t lift the instrument out. Instead, he reaches into the velvet pocket of the lid and removes a folded sheet of paper.

  “Recognize this, ye gawking twat?”

  I narrow my gaze. It’s the song I wrote to Juliana while imprisoned in the cave.

  “Tell me what’s written on it.”

  “That’s not for you and you know it.”

  “Just answer me. Ye’re not the only one with better shite to do.”

  “Lyrics,” I say. “Now tell me the rest. How do angels come back to Earth?”

  “Shut yer gob, ye eejit. I’m feckin’ telling ye.”

  He walks over to the table and places the sheet of paper down, smoothing it out with his knobbed fingers. As he reaches up to the wall covered with various weapons, I back up to the door, suspicion keeping me vigilant. He doesn’t grab the pistol or the hunting knife. Instead, he reaches for the bodhran and lowers it down from the wall. The beater lies on the table and he takes it in his other hand. With a flick of the wrist, he tests the head of the drum.

  “What is the importance written here?” He looks down at my scribbling.

  I shake my head ever so faintly. Partly because I don’t know what he’s getting at and partly from incredulity. “Get on with you.”

  “What did ye write?” he persists.

  “Words. Lyrics for her,” I answer, nostrils flaring with contempt over his badgering.

  “Words,” he repeats solemnly. “The power is in the words, and the receiver of yer power,” he says slowly.

  Something tingles down my spine. Like an inner knowledge awakening. Liam must feel it as well because his eyes seem to widen and he leans slightly in my direction.

  “Ye trade with a living soul at the exact moment they are to cross over. He will swear an oath to ye and ye to him. Ye must mean it. Ye take their life and he will wear yer shoes forever after.”

  “I won’t have anything to do with soul-stealing or physical possession,” I say.

  “It’s nothing of the sort. An eye for an eye. Be mindful of the body ye choose. Ye inherit the age and the state of health. Everything else will stay the same. Ye will be exactly as ye are this very moment. A brown-haired gobshite.”

  “Then tell me the exact words, Liam.”

  “It matters not as long as ye both swear to it.” He fiddles out a delicate series of beats on the drumhead and looks over at me.

  “As soon as they slip out of their body?” I ask to be sure.

  “That’s right, arsehole.”

  “How old are you?” I ask, getting a strange feeling about all of this. I don’t want to return only to live forever. Watching Juliana grow old and not be able to do it with her isn’t a deal I’m willing to make. I want a normal life with her, not full of magic spells and incantations.

  “Ye’re wondering if I’ll meet my death again. Aye, I’m mortal. I may battle the Devil at the end for my deeds, but Kathleen was worth every second.”

  And so is Juliana.

  His eyes shift to the page on the table. “Be deserving of her, Nathaniel. Those are fine words ye’ve written. Prove yerself now, and have Vivian teach ye the protection spells and something of magical weapons. Ye’ll be needing them.”

  He sounds near to disgust as he makes this last suggestion. I’m shocked he’s offering his two cents without having to fight him for it.

  “Now feck off before I change my mind about ye and put another dart in yer arse.”

  Chapter Twenty-five: Water Witches

  Nathaniel

  I know how it can be done! A
ngels can return to life. The extraordinary pressure inside me is gone. Knowledge sought and discovered is a freedom like no other. I feel like I can breathe. Like I should scream my news from the top of the highest mountain. But most of all, I’m thinking about Juliana. Of sharing my news with her. Along with this new freedom is the almost instant downer of realizing I have no idea how I will ever find someone who will willingly vow to trade places with me.

  I can’t think about it right now. I have to see her.

  Juliana is asleep in a hospital bed when I appear by her side. The sun teases the window shades, begging them to be raised. The clock on the wall says it’s early morning. She doesn’t like mornings much and I’m not surprised to see her asleep. She looks so peaceful and beautiful. The wound on her neck is barely visible. I did my best to heal it. Perhaps I’ll work on it more before I fall from grace and I am alive again. She doesn’t need any scar to remind her of the night at Vivi’s. I place my spirit hand over hers. I won’t wake her no matter how much I yearn to see those green and gold eyes staring back at me.

  I think about what I want to say rather than say it aloud. She likes to meet me in her dreams, but as much as I want to play this unusual game with her, I’m going to let her rest. I want to save the words for when she’s fully awake. Like Liam said, the real power is in the words and the receiving of them.

  I sit down in the chair by the bed and clasp both of my hands around one of hers. An image forms in my mind. It’s so unexpected and sudden it pulls me in and I watch with fascination. I think I’m witnessing her dream.

  A stunning black creature is slinking through a lush forest. I want a better look at this unusual animal, so I keep following to see her better, but she’s fast and I am much slower. My one hind leg is aching fiercely, but I push myself hard to get an unobstructed view of her. At last I see the furry animal. It’s a black fox. She’s lapping up water from a stream. The curve of her back is sleek, her ears high and pointed, and her black tail is full and luxurious. I shamble closer, wondering why on earth I am shambling as if my legs were only four inches long. I take a look at myself and laugh.

  There’s coarse hair and quills all over my body. I have tiny dark feet with impressive black claws. My laugh must get her attention. The black fox raises her head and turns to face me.

  Her green and gold flecked eyes are the same. She doesn’t speak, but I know she recognizes me. She looks down and slightly to the side, shielding her gaze. It’s the same move she often makes when she’s being shy about her feelings. I begin to shuffle forward. She looks back up and I rise from four feet to two. I do my little porcupine shimmy for her and she giggles. Although a fox doesn’t really laugh, and it isn’t a sound so much as a whole body expression. I add a little twist and wiggle for effect. My leg is killing me, but I ignore it because I’m having too much fun. Being a porcupine isn’t so bad after all, I decide. She sits down as if she’s settling in to enjoy the show.

  Before I can move any closer, a shadow crosses over us and we both glance up to see an enormous raven gliding over our heads. It circles once. I hear the whooshing of its beating wings as it comes back around and lands on a moss-covered stump on the opposite side of Juliana.

  Her shoulders seem to sag with defeat. She stares into my eyes for a long second and she turns to look at the raven. I lower to all four feet, my claws gripping the forest floor as my quills prickle with alarm.

  There is a shushing sound and I sense movement. My eyes fly open. I didn’t know they had closed. The door to the hospital room swings closed behind Jared, Chris Abeyta, and Juliana’s mom, Diane. They walk into the room unaware I’m already here. I release Jules’s hand and back up to the wall before Chris sees me. The vision lingers in my thoughts and I smile down at her face. I see her stir lightly in her sleep. I’m unwilling to let the moment pass, but I don’t have a choice with the entrance of her family because Marcus is always close by Jared. My mentor looks as deadly as a mortal sin. He’s huge and glaring at me. As far as I’m concerned I’ve had my fill of boxing today. I vanish before he makes his first move.

  ∞

  Vivi’s ranch house is foremost on my mind for some reason instead of the woman herself. As soon as I arrive I notice the place looks abandoned. My mind suddenly feels muddled as I stare at the blank parking spaces by the barn where camper vans and cars had been lined up only…? The day before? Maybe a little longer. Where is everyone? I enter the house and see the same. No one. They were surely here. There are dirty dishes on the counter and newspapers and magazines strewn across the kitchen table.

  Inside Vivi’s bedroom, I find the bed neatly made and no sign of Vivian. Quickly, I check her witch’s cupboard, knocking on the hidden door from the kitchen side and from behind the back of the house. Since I can’t enter without her permission, I call her name. There’s no answer. She isn’t home.

  I scrub my fingers over my scalp. Something doesn’t feel right. If she were close to death, I should feel the pull to be near her, but I don’t sense much of anything.

  As I’m visualizing her in my mind’s eye, so I can go straight to her and quit wandering uselessly around the ranch, I hear a car coming up the drive. It’s moving slowly as if the driver is unsure of where they are going, or unfamiliar with the narrow lane through the forest. Unable to contain my impatience, I move quickly to the vehicle to see if it’s Vivi.

  It isn’t her. Instead, I find Eileen Bell in the passenger seat next to a man I don’t recognize. The children, Kevan and Becky, are in the back seat. The little girl is asleep, but Kevan is bouncing on the edge of the seat. He looks like he either has to use the facilities or he’s attempting to contain the forces which power his seven-year-old body. I suspect it’s the latter.

  Knowing they won’t find Vivi inside the house, I leave them immediately to find the missing woman. I picture her in my mind with her black hair streaked with silver, high arched brows above stern green eyes, and the long slender neck once very graceful and now lined with age. I can’t get a sense of her. I have a sneaking suspicion magic is being used here. I push harder with my mind, almost forcing something to happen. My will begins to move me. When I open my eyes, I find myself at the top of the ridge where I first met Vivi.

  She’s nowhere to be seen. Errr… that blasted witch! Am I too late? How is she managing to do this? I glance all around wondering if she can make herself invisible the way Liam does. She says she’s attuned with the water though, not the air. Does that even matter? Then I notice a blue bottle lying in the shade of the single stunted tree atop the bluff. Since it’s the only thing up here that doesn’t belong, I walk over and pick it up. I see a rolled up sheet of paper inside. I uncork the bottle and the undeniable essence of Vivi wafts out, like the scent of cool mist mixed with the feeling of cynical humor. There is also a sound, like the tinkling of water into a shallow pool. Nice trick, I think. If all magic were innocent and lovely like this, I would definitely be more inclined toward the craft, but I’ve seen both sides now and I have yet to be impressed.

  The sound of trickling water continues as I stick my fingers inside to retrieve the paper. My fingers dip into cold water even though when I look inside it appears dry. I pull out the rolled up letter and let the water drip from the page. As I uncurl the edges, I notice the print is dry. Her magic is a wonder.

  It reads:

  Dear Nathaniel,

  If you’re reading this, do not come find me. I beg this last wish be fulfilled. I know you have a kind soul, so leave me be for I have enjoyed our brief time together and would hate to ruin my memories of you by spoiling my plans – again. You really have been most entertaining in my last days and I thank you. Your voice and stories have warmed my old bones and brought a measure of life back into me, but it is time for me to move on. I am weary and heartbroken and do not wish to breathe one more stinking labored breath. Do not worry about my passage to the Summerland, for it matters not who my companion is. I will find my way alone as I have always done.

/>   Who knows? Maybe my ex-husband will be there. I can’t wait to cast a whopper of a spell on that good-for-nothing son-of-a-bitch. I’m kidding, of course. Isn’t that how all the trouble started in the first place? Maybe in death I will finally be forgiven. I sincerely look forward to finding out.

  See you in the hereafter,

  Vivian Jolene Costa

  Without a second thought, I launch myself over the side of the cliff and soar down to the river below. Vivi’s broken body is nowhere to be found. I search the entire area below the ridge and can’t find her. I want to feel relieved she’s not lying lifeless on the ground or shattered among the boulders, but my instincts and her note will not let me give up. I make myself stop next to the water and concentrate, but I can’t get a handle on her location. She must be using magic against me. No other explanation makes sense. I should be able to find her.

  Before me is a stretch of lazy river, wider here and more shallow. I can hear the tumble of water crashing over the rocks farther upstream. I decide to follow the river to the sound. By following the tributaries, I’ll eventually be back to the house anyway. My bases will be covered and then I can search her home for more clues to her whereabouts.

  Around the next crook in the river, I see the source of the noise. A small fall of water cascades down from what looks like a pool. Without actually seeing her, I get the unnerving feeling I have found my missing client.

  The river has formed a clear pool where the water has filled a giant bowl in the rocks. The west side butts up against a towering face of granite, but the rest is surrounded by flat and wide sun-drenched stones which look perfect for lying out on. A grandfather spruce watches over the land. Its roots are thick and gnarled as they reach over to the edge of the water, as if he’s dipping his toes.

  At first, I can’t comprehend what I’m seeing. Then it slaps me across the face and I rush forward to the pool. Vivi is lying at the bottom. Her eyes are closed and she’s perfectly still within the gently flowing current.