Sleepy Hollow: Children of the Revolution (26 page)

Ultimately, though, the reasons didn’t matter. She just knew it would work.

The words poured out of her mouth, and she could feel the forces swirling about. Everything went away, her living room, Frieda, the three intruders, the house, the neighborhood—there was nothing but Beth, the sigil, the six crosses, the blood, and the magic.

And Serilda.

Beth could feel the mistress, teasing at the edge of her consciousness. Her presence was weak at first, but as she continued to speak the spell, it grew stronger.

At last! After so many centuries of unrest, I may at last return to my rightful place!

Smiling, Beth continued to recite the spell. Serilda’s presence was like a warm flannel blanket wrapping around her on a cold winter night.

Already Beth’s imagination was running wild with all the things they could accomplish once the mistress was back on the mortal plane.

You have done well, my servant. Rest assured, you will have a place of honor by my side as we remake the world as Abaddon would wish it
.

Beth was now halfway through the spell and she wasn’t even consciously speaking the words, they seemed to just come from her mouth unbidden.

Noooooooooooooooo!

Without warning, the flannel blanket was ripped away, leaving Beth cold and confused. Serilda’s presence was suddenly fading and less substantial. Beth had to force herself to continue to speak the words of the spell.

And then she felt another presence alongside Serilda. A tall man with a beard wearing a long coat and a poofy shirt.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to keep reciting the spell.

ONCE CRANE SAW
through the delusion of his suddenly being a middle-aged man in fin de siècle New York having something resembling a reconciliation with his father, he collapsed to the hard surface of the road.

Struggling to his feet, he cried out in pain, as he rather idiotically used his left hand to brace himself. The self-inflicted cut was still raw and coated in blood.

Shaking it off, Crane steadied himself, cupped the bloodstained Congressional Cross in both hands, and once again began to recite the words of the counterspell.

As he spoke the words, he felt the same chilling winds that accompanied Serilda’s presence beneath the armory months ago.

You again! Will I never be free of you, husband of the hated witch?

Crane smiled, but continued to recite the spell. It was Katrina and the rest of her coven who bound Serilda’s power, allowing her to be burned at the stake, back in the eighteenth century. And it was Crane, along with Lieutenant Mills, who used old gunpowder to destroy her bones, denying her attempt at resurrection the previous autumn.

I will not allow this!
Serilda’s words were weaker this time.

Again Crane said nothing save for the words of
the spell. He felt the power coursing through the bloodstained silver of the cross, forcing away the chill cold of Serilda’s presence.

When he at last reached the final words of the spell, he cried out, “You will not win this day, Serilda! No matter how murderous your followers, no matter how cruel their attacks, they will not stop us!”

You may be victorious this day, but your woman remains trapped, and she shall stay there evermore!

“Perhaps she shall. But you will not be able to gloat about it any longer.”

The Nugent house burst into a mighty glow that temporarily blinded Crane. Raising his hands to shield his eyes, he still saw the glow even with his eyes shut and his arms in the way.

And then the glow faded, and with it, all of Crane’s energy. His arms suddenly felt as if they weighed half a ton, he no longer had the capacity to support his own weight, and he once again fell to the ground, struggling mightily to keep his eyes open.

SHAKING HER HEAD
, Abbie tried to figure out how she wound up lying on a hardwood floor when she was just in her cubicle.…

No, she was just at the Fox Hill Stables.…

No, she was here. Standing, facing Nugent as she was about to cast the spell to bring Serilda back
when some other woman with scars on half her face walked in.

She was lying next to her Glock, and she gingerly touched it. It was still warm, but much cooler than before, so she grabbed it and then got to her feet.

Quickly, Abbie took stock of the situation. Nugent was lying in the center of the chalk drawing that was in the center of the room. She didn’t appear to be moving, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of Serilda, which led Abbie to think that Crane had done his part quite admirably.

Irving was still groggily lying on the floor, moaning a bit.

Jenny was on her feet and pointing her weapon right at the head of the scarred woman, who looked understandably apprehensive.

“What the hell did you
do
to me?” That was Jenny, sounding as pissed-off as Abbie had ever heard her. And that was against some mighty fierce competition, given that Jenny had spent most of the past decade being pissed-off.

The scarred woman was whimpering. “I’m sorry, please, don’t hurt me.”

“You really think ‘I’m sorry’ is gonna cut it, lady? Do you know what you
did
to me?”

“It was—it was just a harmless spell. Supposed t’let you live your heart’s desire. S’why it worked even with the talisman, ’cause it’s white magic, not black.”

“White magic?” Jenny cocked her pistol, and Abbie flinched.

“Jenny, don’t—”

“Shut
up
, Abbie, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Uhm, it kinda does. Leaving aside the fact that you’re, y’know, my sister, there’s the fact that you’re pointing a weapon at an unarmed woman. That’s the sort of thing I’m paid to stop from happening.”

“You don’t know what she did to me.” Jenny had yet to look away from the scarred woman’s face, and Abbie saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“I think I can guess. You were living the life you would’ve lived if we never saw those trees in the forest.”

Now, finally, Jenny turned to look at her. She whispered, “You, too?”

Abbie nodded.

She turned back and glared at the scarred woman. “Then you know why I need to shoot her.”

“I can’t let you do that, Jenny.”

“Neither can I.”

Abbie glanced behind her to see that Irving had also gotten to his feet. “You okay, Captain?”

“Aside from the herd of elephants running through my head, I’m just peachy. Mills, put the gun down.”

“You don’t understand!” Jenny cried. “The life she showed me—it was happy and fun and wonderful and I
can’t ever have that
!” She shook her head.
“Everything I’ve been through since that damn night in the forest, and this bitch shows me what it
should’ve
been like! She has to die for that!”

“Nobody
has
to die, Jenny!” Abbie cried. “Yeah, what she showed us was great—that’s what heart’s desires are supposed to be. But that’s not how it works and you
know
that. We don’t get to play what-if. It was just a stupid magic trick trying to keep us from doing what’s right—just like every other stupid magic trick we’ve gone up against the last few months. But the whole point of this is that
we’re the good guys
, Jenny!”

At that, Jenny again turned to her sister. Abbie was slowly moving toward her younger sibling, and she saw the look of anguish on her tear-streaked face.

Now standing as close to Jenny as she dared, Abbie lowered her voice, belatedly realizing that Jenny would likely pay more attention if she wasn’t yelling. “A lot of people are dead because of what this little coven did. We’re supposed to be against that. If we just shoot people because they pissed us off, then why the hell are we bothering to fight Moloch and Serilda and the Horsemen? ’Cause that’s the world
they
want. They want death and destruction and pointless suffering.”

Jenny looked back at the scarred woman. “But it’s not like you can arrest her.”

“I can do better’n ’at,” the woman said.

“Did anyone say you could talk?” Jenny snapped.

“Jenny!” Abbie then looked at the woman. “Do better than what?”

“I’ll testify against Beth. Don’t worry,” she added quickly, “I’ll leave all the magic out, but I heard her talkin’ ’bout killin’ those folks at the museums. Just
please
,” she said with a plaintive look at Jenny, “don’t kill me. I thought I could go back to this, I really did, but—” Suddenly, she let out a bitter laugh. “Look at me. Can’t even cry, thanks t’Moloch.”

Abbie’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me? What do you know about Moloch?”

She pointed to the left side of her face. “Who you think did
this
?”

Nodding, Abbie turned to her sister. “Okay, Jenny, c’mon. Put it down.”

“You really think that helps?”

“All right, let me put it another way. We’re in New York City. Out of Irving’s and my jurisdiction. We’re in an upscale neighborhood. Trust me, they find a body here, NYPD’ll move heaven and earth to find the killer, and Nugent can describe you. Or you wanna kill her, too?”

Abbie watched as Jenny’s face went through several different emotions: anger, resentment, confusion, sorrow.

Finally, she lowered her weapon and turned away.

The scarred woman was shaking now. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

“It’s okay. We’ll take care of you. What’s your name?”

“I’m—I’m Frieda. Frieda Abernathy.”

“Okay, Frieda, we’re gonna have to call the local cops, have them hold you until we can get an arrest warrant. Then you can talk about your deal with the DA. All right?” Abbie refrained from mentioning the jurisdictional nightmare this case would be, as both Westchester County and New York County had claim to Nugent, and given that cops were killed in both counties, neither side would give an inch to the other. But that was a problem for prosecutors and judges to hash out.

Frieda nodded. “That’s fine. I—I thought I could just go back to this, and I wasn’t gonna, but—” She let out a bitter laugh. “Beth, she gets in your head, y’know? All single-minded. Crazy stuff. She was obsessed.”

Irving asked, “Obsessed with what?”

“Serilda. Everything was all about her, all’a time. Crazy stuff,” she repeated.

“Damn.” Irving shook his head.

Abbie gave him a sympathetic look. This had to have been hard on him. It would’ve been like her finding out that Corbin was a serial killer. By comparison, the revelation that Corbin was secretly gathering intel on demons and monsters was pretty damn harmless.

Then Abbie looked at Jenny. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah. I mean, no, not really,
but okay enough. What’d she hit you guys with?”

“I was with the FBI, and Corbin was still alive.”

Irving didn’t look at Jenny, but was staring down at the floor when he said, “I was in command of a precinct in Manhattan, Cynthia and I were still married, and Macey could walk.”

Jenny winced. “Oh. Oh, damn. I’m sorry, Captain, I—”

“It’s okay.” Irving waved Jenny off, then looked around. “Where’s Crane?”

Abbie also looked around, though of course they left Crane outside on purpose. “I’ll check.” She moved toward the front door.

As she threw it open, she looked toward the SUV they’d come down in.

Of her fellow Witness, there was no sign. “Crane!” she cried.

Gritting her teeth, she jogged to the car, and again called out, “Crane!”

Then she found him lying facedown on the pavement.

“Dammit!” She ran the rest of the way to him and knelt down. First she checked his pulse, which was thankfully very strong.

A moan escaped Crane’s lips, and Abbie let out a huge breath of relief.

She rolled him over and he opened his eyes slowly. “Lieutenant?” he said in a ragged whisper.

She took his hand in hers. “It’s okay, Crane. We won. Serilda’s not coming back thanks to you.”

He smiled. “Thanks to all of us.” And then his eyes fluttered.

“Crap.” She let go of his hand and whipped out her cell phone to call 911.