The usual disclaimers apply: I'm not making any money off of this, Castle belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe, and any similarities to real people or places are strictly a coincidence.

Author's notes are at the bottom. Please enjoy!


The Spellbound Affair

Chapter Twenty-Eight


Javier kept his head down as they walked up the aisle. He was aware that the fitted black cap he wore was nothing more than a false sense of security - it hid little more than the top of his head from view. However, keeping his eyes cast downward helped him avoid accidentally making eye contact with any of the curious onlookers. Next to him, Beckett walked with a straight back and her chin held high. Her act didn't fool Javier, who could feel how tightly her fingers clenched his.

Being dragged through the bullpen at the 12th had been a cakewalk compared to this seemingly unending march. He'd been worried about the meeting with Captain Gates. He sometimes had difficulty gauging how the woman would react to certain things. On one hand, Gates had made her dislike of Castle very clear and she had thrown all of her clout into the power struggle with Beckett when the detective returned from her shooting. Then, she had given her blessing to the relationship between the writer and the detective, claiming to have known about them for a long time despite the team's best efforts to keep it hidden.

Javier fought down the urge to shudder at the heavy weight of the numerous gazes on him. He was probably being paranoid, much like he'd been upon retiring from the military, thinking that each of the stares were filled with contempt and a desire to do him ill. At least at the 12th, the looks from his fellow officers had been mildly interested and covert. He knew they would never intentionally harm him or his partner, and not just because he was their brother-in-arms or a small child. Because he was a person. Nora Bellefonte had made it clear that meant nothing to her. Javier didn't hold very high hopes for the rest of her peers, either.

It seemed to take an eternity to walk past the six rows of creepy gawkers, but before he knew it, the feet of the metal stand supporting the casket came into his sightline. Beckett stopped a step away from the partially open coffin and simply pushed Javier the rest of the way with the forward swing of her arm. Javier looked over his shoulder at her. She offered him an encouraging smile, then turned to glare at the rest of the visitors. As she turned, Javier caught a brief glimpse of the handle of her gun where it was holstered at her waist.

Kevin moved to stand next to Javier. His shoulder pressed against the older boy's. The height of the stand was such that the four-year-old could just see into the opening that framed the deceased witch's upper body. Kevin didn't look right away though. He played with the hem of his silly vest - ahem, waistcoat - as he gathered the courage to look at the corpse.

Javier looked. Nora Bellefonte appeared the same as all of the other dead people in coffins that Javier had seen. She didn't look real without the light of life coloring her features. Instead, she looked like she was made of wax. She was pale brown and a purplish hue infiltrated her complexion. The mortician, probably not knowing what a heartless wretch her subject was, had applied minimal makeup. It did little to hide the pallor of death. What was it about dead people in coffins that made them seem so much creepier than dead people in alleys or other random crime scenes? Maybe it was the fact that Nora had been dead for days, whereas their victims were usually only hours past. Maybe it was because Javier felt compassion, or at least pity, for the victims. What he currently felt for the woman before him was just shy of hatred.

Javier could tell when Kevin finally peered into the wooden box. The Irishman's fingers dug painfully into the soft flesh below Javier's elbow. He didn't know if Kevin felt the same way he did about dead people in coffins. They'd attended enough funerals together but very few visitations.

"She looks different," whispered Kevin.

"You think so?"

"She seemed happier when we met her last week."

"Well, she was about to cast a huge curse on two unsuspecting detectives," grumbled Javier. "Now she's dead."

"Don't they usually try to make the deceased look at peace?" Javier hadn't noticed it before, but the corpse did look less than peaceful. Her wrinkled face was overly creased as if some small pain or tinge of remorse plagued her even now. Instead of a faint smile, the corners of her mouth quirked down into a frown.

"I don't know, bro. Maybe some people are just too bad to find peace even in death." Javier spitefully hoped that the lines of distress in her face were due to unbearable amounts of guilt.

"Can you see her 'other face'?" It took Javier a second to understand Kevin's question. Once he'd deciphered the other boy's code phrase, he looked critically at the witch. Bianca had said it was simple to see beyond one's physical face to their spiritual one. All Javier could see was ash over caramel.

"No, can you?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Well, her spirit's probably gone to… somewhere else by now."

Kevin fell silent while he contemplated the woman. He worried his lower lip between his teeth as he thought. Javier tried to do the same, though without the outward signs of concentration.

He didn't have any grand speech or farewell planned. He didn't really have anything he wanted to say to her soulless corpse. Sure, screaming and swearing and kicking the metal stands sounded awfully appealing, but he wouldn't behave like that in front of his friends and especially not in front of an audience of strangers. He wanted Nora to know how much he despised her. He didn't want the others to know how badly she'd gotten to him. His hope in looking her in the face had been that there would be some hint as to her motive. He still didn't understand why she'd done it. Oh, he now knew about the lame reasons that she could have used to justify her spell; money, threats, a show of power; but sane people just think about the horrible things they'd like to do to someone else and never actually act on their urges. Why had the witch gone out of her way to ruin his life?

He'd also hoped to find a sign that she regretted what she'd done. Yes, she looked less than peaceful lying there in her wooden box. However, it seemed to him that she was one of those sorts who lamented getting caught, not breaking the rules in the first place. He felt twice cheated.

Well, if this cloud had a silver lining, like his grandmother claimed all of them had, it was that the witch couldn't do anything else to him or his partner. It was a very small consolation. He decided to check one last time that her spirit had truly left her body. He stared at the witch's face, trying to see beyond her waxy skin to the ravaged remnants of her soul.

Her eyes opened suddenly. The pupils were dilated to the point that the black encompassed her irises, leaving no color. As he stared at her in horror, unable to turn away, red started to bleed into the white parts of her eyeballs and a flickering flame danced in the blackness. Javier choked on the scream fighting its way up his throat.

"Javi?"

The Hispanic detective snapped his head towards Kevin. The shorter boy looked at him curiously, with his head tilted slightly to the side. "Did you see that?" he asked in a rushed whisper.

"No." Kevin frowned slightly. "What happened."

"I just… I thought I saw something." Javier dared to glance at the witch. She looked like a wax doll again. Not a single wrinkle had shifted or muscle had twitched. "It was in my head."

"Oh." Kevin glanced between his partner and the witch. Javier looked in turn between Beckett and Castle. Neither noticed his brief panic. Castle was absently looking at the witch as well, waiting patiently for the detectives to find their closure. Beyond him, Demming idly perused the room. Beckett stood stiffly to their other side, still watching the strangers warily. When Javier sidestepped towards her, the lead detective looked down at him expectantly.

"I'm finished," Javier said.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Kevin?"

The blond nodded. He smiled faintly at Javier. The minute gesture of support and the quiet acknowledgment that Javier didn't want to talk about whatever had spooked him a second ago warmed the Hispanic detective's tepid mood. He replied with his own ghost of a smile.

Beckett wanted to hold his hand again. If it made her feel better, he wouldn't complain that he didn't need her "protection". Which he didn't, by the way. Nor did he need Castle's help protecting Kevin, but letting the writer coddle the Irishman made it easier for Javier to keep his head down again as they retraced the infinitely long trek out of this suffocating room.

About two steps into their retreat, the atmosphere of the room suddenly spiked from thinly veiled animosity to outright alarm. About half of the visitors stood up and turned towards the back of the room while the rest cowered down, hoping that the backs of their chairs would shield them from whatever was about to enter. Javier could feel the press of intense magical power like the humidity in the room had risen by 300%.

Bianca appeared in front of them. Her black skirt swished fitfully around her ankles as she shoved him backwards into Beckett's legs. "Go!" she hissed, waving her hand towards an emergency exit door at the front of the room. Javier hadn't noticed it previously. It was partially hidden behind a decorative screen.

Their group of five was slow to heed Bianca's frantic herding towards the emergency exit. They were still standing at the top of the aisle when the double doors at the back burst open and jumped off their hinges. The doors thudded to the ground as smoke poured into the room, heralding the entrance of a man dressed entirely in black.

Javier barely had time to register the man's sheet white complexion and inky black hair before he was being propelled sideways by a bruising grip on his upper arm. He stumbled slightly at the rough treatment but Castle held him up. Javier found his feet in time to avoid being dragged towards the exit. He was pushed behind Beckett, who had her gun drawn and pointed at the villain.

"That won't do anything," scolded Bianca when she saw Beckett's gun. "Get them out of here." The detective hesitated briefly as her training warred with her instincts. She finally lowered the weapon and backed away, following the rest of their group.

Demming grabbed the panic bar on the door and immediately jumped backwards. His palms were red from the shock he'd received. Bianca let out a string of very unlady-like epithets. "Get down and stay low," she ordered.

"What's going on?" demanded Beckett once their group was crouched behind the meager cover of the decorative screen. Javier could barely see the white witch from where he and Kevin had been shoved into the corner. Castle was directly in front of them, defensively shielding the small boys from the unfolding drama. Beckett and Demming made up the front line of their defenses, though Javier wasn't sure how much protection the robbery detective could offer when he was having difficulty holding his weapon. Javier had been burned before and he knew it was very painful. Bianca stood at the door, trying to undo the spell sealing it shut without drawing the attention of the madman in black.

"He should not have this kind of power," whispered Bianca hurriedly. "This blatant offensive can only end poorly." She verbally condemned the door when her attempt to open it failed. The way that the older witch continued to check nervously over her shoulder to mark the progress of the altercation made Javier feel anxious. The bigger part of him, however, wanted to know what was going on.

He stood up on his toes and used Castle's shoulder for balance as he strained to see over Beckett and Demming. The writer looked up when he felt the pressure on his upper back. "What are you doing? Stay down."

"I want to see," argued Javier. On the other side of Castle, Kevin leaned out to the side, also unwilling to miss the action. Knowing him, Castle was equally excited to see a witchy fight first hand. The writer pulled each of the boys to his sides so they could see more easily. He kept a strong arm wrapped around them both.

The pale man now stood in the middle of the room, glowering derisively at the rest of the room's occupants. His back was slightly hunched and his greasy black hair hung limply over his forehead, nearly covering one eye completely. His eyes reminded Javier of the vision he'd just experienced when trying to see Nora Bellefonte's spirit. Beyond the man, hovering in the blown-out doorway, was a second person. That figure's costume consisted of an out-dated black cloak over a similarly old-fashioned suit. The second person seemed content to be ignored as everyone else was focused on the first man.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded an older man from the crowd. He stepped into the aisle and boldly faced the newcomer.

"I have come to pay my respects." The man's voice rasped as if he had suffered from a bad cough. "You would deny me the chance to say good-bye to my own mother?" His eyes flickered angrily and he took a deep breath before forcing himself to smile sickly.

"What have you done to yourself, Rayford?" asked Randy. Instead of sounding confrontational, Bellefonte the Younger's tone was heartbroken. He stood near the open casket. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge.

"I have simply taken what has been denied to me my whole life," sneered the pasty stranger. "Not all of us were born with such gifts." Javier had never seen this man before, though he suspected it was the older Bellefonte brother. Javier knew without a doubt that this interloper hated Randy. One could not fake that kind of malice.

"To obtain such dark magic unnaturally is against the very center of the Council's beliefs," stated the old man who had first confronted Rayford.

"I could not care less about the Council." Bellefonte the Older's eyes flashed again. Javier could barely feel the slight pulse in the edgy atmosphere, though plenty of the witches reacted obviously. "Except for one."

"Rayford-" Randy took a step forward as he beseechingly addressed his brother. He didn't have the chance to utter another sound before Rayford threw a hand out in his direction and suddenly Randy was falling backwards roughly. Beckett nearly bolted forward when their best hope at breaking the curse on Javier and Kevin struggled to recover from the invisible attack. Demming pulled her back.

"I have plans for you and I, little brother, but there is no time for them today."

"Be gone from this place and take your necromancer friend with you," insisted the bravely foolish old man. Javier perked up slightly and once again looked at the cloaked figure in the doorway. Was he the one who had attacked them during the hailstorm two days ago?

"I will leave when I have finished my business."

"What is your business?"

Javier was distracted momentarily by Bianca's increasingly frequent expletives as she struggled to free the door of its spell. He barely caught Rayford's response. "My business is to make every single one of you pay for the wrongs inflicted upon myself and my mother," said the man. He started to shake as his control faltered and his fury started to leak through his calm façade. "You will all pay."

"Your mother was an evil woman who earned her just rewards," said a portly man with round wire-framed glasses and gray mutton chop sideburns. "You will get yours, as well, if you continue in this madness."

"Mr. Kennedy, I hoped you would be here," said Rayford. "Yours is the death I wish for the most." He grinned wickedly. The portly man started to choke. He clutched at his throat and knocked over a couple folding chairs while he struggled to breathe. A middle-aged woman, who seemed to be with this Kennedy person, screamed. She ineffectively clutched Kennedy's arm while he turned red and then purple. Other witches shouted at Rayford to cease whatever attack he was performing. A few of the men tried to tackle him but they were held at bay by another pulse of magic. The cloaked man in the doorway had entered the room to defend his murderous associate.

"I don't have a clear shot," Beckett said in frustration to Demming. "There are too many other people crowded around him." Demming craned his neck to see if he could find a clear sight line. Apparently he was also unsuccessful. Beckett made as if she was going to storm over to Rayford and demand that he cease murdering the Kennedy witch. Bianca intercepted her and angrily whispered admonishments that the police not get involved. Beckett argued in return, insisting that she needed to do her job. It didn't matter anyway. Javier could see that Beckett was too late to save the victim.

Kennedy now lay in the middle of a pile of collapsed folding chairs, twitching and frothing at the mouth. His companion sobbed loudly and shouted for help. By this time, anyone who drew too close to the portly man received a nasty shock. Bianca gave up trying to force some sense into Beckett. She turned to glare hatefully at Rayford. Javier could see the muscle in her strong jaw tick as she forced herself to not draw the killer's attention to them by moving to aid the dead man's companion.

The Council members who had tried to subdue Rayford now loitered in a semi-circle around him, waiting like vultures for the time when the necromancer dropped his shields and they could attack. Kennedy no longer moved. His bloated face was completely blue and his wide open eyes were bloodshot to the point that no white remained. Beckett muttered to herself about her suspect being killed before she could arrest him and how Bianca was always trying to thwart her investigations. Javier didn't feel too badly for her - now she had a new suspect to arrest for murder.

"The rest of you shall have to wait your turns," said Rayford darkly. He scanned the room with hate-filled eyes. Javier shuddered unconsciously when the witch's eyes passed over him. Though the dark gaze rested on him for only a moment, Javier felt like the man had looked right through him, laying bare all of his inner thoughts and fears. "I have a loved one who needs my attention at the moment."

"Don't go after Randy," pleaded Beckett in a whisper to no one. Demming clutched her arm. Rayford did take two steps towards the front of the room and raise his hand confidently. However, he was aiming at the casket, not his brother who winced in pain each time he tried to stand up.

"Stop!" ordered a chorus of witches. They tried once again to restrain Rayford but they could not get within a foot of him. Javier wondered why Beckett didn't try to shoot the necromancer, who still stood by himself near the double doorway.

Rayford didn't stop. He concentrated fully on his self-appointed task. Javier could see the older brother's lips moving as he spoke but the words were silent. A long few seconds passed until the cheap wooden casket started to glow faintly. It didn't seem possible, but the apprehension in the room grew even thicker.

"Don't do this," called Randy beseechingly. He laboriously scooted away from the casket stand. Bianca shouted out a warning too late as Beckett rose to her full height and opened fire on the witch. Javier knew that the lead detective was a scarily good shot, especially at this range. Still, her bullets were unable to penetrate the thick wall of energy that surrounded the evil witch.

"Shoot the necromancer!" Javier tried to push forward to get Beckett's attention. The deafening echo of a dozen semi-automatic discharges rung in his ears. Castle halted Javier's forward progress with his iron-like grip around the boy's waist.

Simultaneously, Rayford shifted his focus to the police officer and Beckett shifted hers to the necromancer. The bullets could not pierce through the invisible shield surrounding the second man, either, but he took a few stumbling steps as the impact from the projectiles on his protective barrier knocked him back. The necromancer regained his footing in time to dart into the hallway and out of the path of Beckett's gun. His retreat did nothing to shake Rayford's loathsome concentration on Beckett.

Rayford threw both of hands out towards the female detective with murderous intent. "No!" yelled Bianca. She stepped in front of Beckett and raised her arms defensively. Javier fully expected both of the women to be thrown backwards. Instead, the beat of magic knocked Rayford into the abused folding chairs behind him. Beckett gaped dumbly at the white witch while Rayford fought to find his feet again. Bianca wasted little time watching the man flounder. She turned back to the emergency exit door and grasped the panic bar firmly. A flash of light nearly blinded Javier as the white witch overpowered the magical lock and pushed the door open. He realized that all of this time, she'd been trying to keep her own magical power under Rayford's radar so he wouldn't attack the police detectives and writer. The cat was out of the bag now and Bianca wasted no time clearing their path to freedom.

Castle was in the process of trying to stand up with a kid tucked under each arm when suddenly he froze. Javier followed the direction of his gaze to the wooden box on the metal stand. He was struck by his own shock at what he saw. Under Castle's other arm, Kevin cried out and threw his hands over his eyes to block out the horrible scene.

Nora Bellefonte sat up coolly in her temporary resting place. Her black eyes were dead as she surveyed the room before slowly climbing out of the casket. Based on the reaction of everyone around him, Javier knew that this time, it wasn't all in his head.

to be continued…


Author's Notes:

Thank you, TXMedic, for being such a faithful beta-reader.

Yeah for posting early in honor of Castle Season 5 Day!

There is a small but real possibility that I won't be able to post on Saturday, but I will do my best. In the meantime, please let me know what you think, especially if you have ideas of ways I can improve. I cherish all my reviews. I write for fun but I always want to improve, so constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are my own.