Chapter Eight

Back at the apartment I made a point to take the bag Thomas was carrying from him and unpack it in the kitchen, along with my candles.

He'd also bought a pestle and mortar, which had surprised me until I saw that the herbs were dried but whole, and a teapot and strainer.

"So show me how to make this brew," I said, lining the bags of herbs up on the side. Mugwort, sage, fennel, vervain, garlic salt and tarragon. The clear plastic bags had press closed fastenings at the top and varied in size, the smallest having an off white powder and the largest ones had dried leaves in. The front of the bags were labelled in old fashioned calligraphy.

I stepped back and got my phone out while I watched him work.

First he put the kettle on, then he added two of everything leafy to the mortar, then added half a teaspoon of the garlic salt and ground them all together with the pestle. Once everything was crushed, he tipped the mix into the teapot, then added one cup of boiling water and left it to steep.

While I kept one eye on him, I was looking up the ingredients on my phone. I was pretty sure sage, tarragon and fennel were safe, but I looked them up just in case, and I had no clue what mugwort and vervain were. They turned out to be safe though. And garlic salts were exactly what they sounded like, even though I hadn't encountered them before.

"It will probably taste awful," he admitted. "But it will keep you safe."

"How long should we leave it?"

"Five minutes should do it."

We waited in silence and I wondered if I was really going to drink this stuff.

I stared at Thomas, hoping to see something in his countenance that reassured me. He must have felt the weight of my gaze as he turned to me and approached.

"You're worried," he said, coming to stand in front of me. "It's okay, you have every right to be. I'm sorry this is happening to you."

He took ahold of my hips and lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, so we were about the same height, then he stepped between my knees and cupped my face in his hands.

"I think you're so brave," he said. "I've had a lifetime to come to terms with Lucille and… and what she is. You've been thrown in at the deep end, and I'm so sorry."

I smiled at him.

"This will work," he assured her. "You have to believe that, and then you and I can begin our lives together, properly."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Begin our lives?"

I nodded.

"It means that I love you, Katherine Blunt, and I want to spend my life with you. Right now the only thing stopping us is my sister but as soon as she is taken care of, we'll be free. I'll sell the jewellery, and we must check mother's other hiding places before we leave, then we'll buy a little house somewhere, I'll learn about modern times, find a profession or business, and we'll build a life together, become a family."

While I couldn't picture Thomas in a 'little house', he did paint such a nice picture and I desperately wanted to believe that we could have it.

It was insanity to feel that way, we'd barely known each other a week but if I was honest, I loved him too. Insane, yes, but true.

He looked into my eyes and all I could see there was vulnerability and honesty. I smiled at him and Thomas leaned forward and kissed me. Most of our clinches had been passionate but this one was gentle, loving, and exquisitely tender. I actually felt teary when he pulled away.

"It should be ready." He smiled lovingly at me. "Are you?"

"I think so."

Thomas stepped away and strained the tea into a cup, then he handed it to me.

"It may still be hot," he warned, stepping between my legs again and placing his hands on my knees, his thumbs softly rubbing over the fabric of my jeans.

I tentatively sipped the concoction, which was awful. I knew my only chance of getting it down was in one go, but it was too hot for that.

"Can I dilute it with cold water?"

"I don't see why not." He took the cup and added a little cold water from the tap then handed it back.

I tipped it up to my lip and it was warm but not too hot, so I stared down into the cups contents.

This was it, right here, to trust or not to trust.

If I trusted him, this could all be over soon and we could get on with our lives.

If I distrusted him, I was no further forward; I had no other solutions.

I looked into his eyes and under the power of his loving gaze, I felt ashamed for doubting him.

"Bottom's up," I said, my voice far softer than intended, then I downed the liquid in one go.

I retched a few times but managed to keep it down, although I still felt queasy.

"Come and rest on the sofa with me," he said, and led me into the other room.

He sat down and I laid on the sofa, my head on his lap, facing him, and I wrapped my arms around him and settled against him.

"This will all be over soon, my love," he crooned.

I was surprised to realise that my eyelids felt heavy but when I rested them for a moment, I quickly drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke, Thomas hadn't moved, he still cradled me against him, and he smiled as I roused. He'd sat there patiently while I dozed, with nothing to do.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

"How long was I out?" I demanded, worried I'd slept overnight or something.

"Just an hour or so."

"You should have moved me!"

"Never!" he grinned. "How do you feel?"

The nausea had passed and I felt pretty good.

"I'm okay." I said, sitting upright. "So, I guess we should get on with the next part of the plan." He looked puzzled.

"Exorcising Beelphegor."

"It's too soon," he cautioned. "We need the barriers to be at their weakest, which is Samhain, tomorrow evening, and you need at least three doses of the brew for it to be effective."

"So what do we do until then?"

Thomas smirked. "I had a few ideas."

That night I awoke to hear Thomas' voice but I couldn't make out his words. I made my way to the bathroom and pressed my ear to the door but they were so thick that it didn't help.

I hated that I still suspected him, so I opened the door, blinking against the bright light.

"You okay?" I asked, shielding my eyes as I entered.

"I'm fine," he smiled.

"I heard you talking to someone."

He actually blushed.

"Myself," he gestured to the mirror and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Rehearsing. I uh, I wasn't going to say anything to you, not until… I didn't want to jinx tomorrow night."

Here I was thinking that he was talking to someone and he was practicing proposing. What was wrong with me?

"I'm sorry, I "

He approached and wrapped me in an embrace.

"Let's just go back to bed," he suggested. "We can talk about the future when we know we'll have one."

I had drunk more of the tea before bed, then again in the morning, then at lunchtime, and finally two hours before we headed down to the party. It was still foul but it didn't make me quite so queasy any more.

My dress was a midnight blue, velvet, floor length gown, very regal and elegant. My mask was a classic Venetian resin mask, overlaid with midnight blue lace detail. It was exquisite.

Tom wore one of his new suits, sans tie, and he would borrow a mask from the organisers (we'd asked and been informed that they always had spares). He looked very handsome.

I had to have a tour of the catering facilities before the party started. Then, while everyone was having drinks before the meal, we would slip away to the basement, where Thomas had found the stone needed for the spell.

I was nervous but determined, and also a little relieved. One way or the other, this was going to be over tonight.

"Ready?" Thomas asked, coming into the bedroom as I put my earrings on.

I nodded and picked up my mask on my way out, sweeping past him.

Thomas halted me by the door though, taking my shoulders and turning me to face him. He looked me over, from top to bottom and, back again, his eyes lingering on every curve.

"You look stunning," he told me.

I smiled shyly. I'd gone through the motions of getting ready but was too preoccupied to enjoy the process, and Thomas had just reminded me why we women went through all that fuss. Truth be told, I didn't like dresses but I would definitely think about wearing them more if it got this reaction.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded. "Let's go."

The tour of the catering facilities was boring but necessary, and I took notes because I knew I wouldn't remember any of this later. They had done an amazing job decorating the hall and tables, but I was in no mood to appreciate it so I took pictures for the articles (and for my own reference later).

I hadn't done any work on any of the articles I was supposed to write; it's kind of hard to worry about deadlines when there's a demon intent on possessing you.

By the time our tour was over, people were beginning to congregate in the bar for drinks, so we put our masks on and joined them, accepting a complimentary orange juice because I needed to keep my head clear. Once a few more people had joined, Thomas and I slipped away.

I had stood at the basement steps earlier today, when Thomas came down here to search for some stone the spell needed, but something about the energy in this place had creeped me out and I hadn't been able to make myself descend. Thomas had urged me to save my courage for tonight, so I had gone back to the apartment and wait for him.

Now I felt rather absurd standing here in a ball gown, but at least I could remove my mask and feel slightly less silly.

I looked over to Thomas, who had also pulled his mask off.

"It's okay, I'll be with you, we're in this together."

I nodded, unable to talk right now.

"I wish I could do this for you," he told me, and I believed him. "Come on." He went ahead, taking my hand and urging me to follow.

There was only emergency lighting on the staircase, the kind that is always on so people can't have accidents in the dark. Once at the bottom, Thomas hit the light switch, flooding the cavernous room before us with fluorescent light.

There looked to be vats down here, although these days they were filled with supplies and although the party upstairs had cleared a lot of things out, there were still a few stacks of chairs sitting in the pits.

Unfortunately, the only thing that came to mind on seeing them was John Haigh, who held the mistaken belief that corpus delicti meant the body of the victim (rather than the body of the crime, or body of evidence) and thought that without a body, he couldn't be convicted. They called him the Acid Bath Murderer because he killed and dissolved the remains of at least 6 people in acid baths.

I don't know if Thomas could read something in my face, but he explained.

"They were for processing the clay pulled from the mines below."

I nodded absently.

"Where should I…?"

"Near where I found the ingot is probably best." He pointed.

I nodded and took a step towards the corner of the room. My hands were shaking, and that only increased when the lights flickered.

"Hey," Thomas came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. "You can do this," he told me. "I believe in you."

I was still trembling but his words did give me strength. He came with me to the corner and took my bag from me, taking the candles and small glass holders out, then he helped me set them up in a circle, about a meter across.

The ingot that the spell spoke of, a mystical thing that tied Lucille to the house, Thomas had explained, seemed to have been chipped out of one of the foundation stones. I vaguely wondered how it got into the middle of a solid stone foundation block, then I remembered; 'magic'. Next I wondered how he knew which stone to chip away at, since the others all looked the same to me, but maybe it had been marked somehow, before he smashed the face to get to the ingot.

It most resembled a sort of oddly shaped gold bar, but was made from something heavier, like lead, which was seemingly fused with things I couldn't identify. The feeling it gave me was utterly repellent and although I daren't touch it, I knew I had to.

This was it, make or break, now or never but when the lights flickered again, hard enough to blow one of the fluorescent bulbs, I lost my nerve and wrapped my arms around Tom. He returned the embrace, holding me tightly.

"She knows," I whispered, my voice quavering.

"I know, which is why we can't afford to wait much longer."

He was right, I was just going to have to suck it up and plough ahead. One way or another, this would all be over soon, and that thought was a huge relief.

I pulled out of the hug and took my bag back from Thomas, taking the lighter from it before handing it back.

"Prodiit nos receperint vos?" I said, just to be sure I had it right.

He nodded. "Repeat it until you feel something."

"What does 'feel something' even mean? Feel what?"

"I can't say with certainty. The book was written before electricity though, so they probably had to guess when they'd been siccessful. Given Lucille's propensity to play with lights, I would say that will be our biggest indicator."

I nodded. The lights were still flickering but not badly enough affect what we were doing.

"Okay, I can do this. I can do this."

I grabbed the ingot and dropped it on the middle of the circle, unwilling to hold it for any longer than necessary. Then, raising the hem of my dress, I stepped into the middle of the candles and knelt down, before lighting all the candles, taking care the whole while not to touch the ingot. I took a deep breath and began the chant Thomas had taught me.

"Prodiit nos receperint vos. Prodiit nos receperint vos. Prodiit nos receperint vos."

The lights were flashing so badly now that it was almost a strobe effect, so I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind, as the spell instructed me to do.

"Prodiit nos receperint vos. Prodiit nos receperint vos."

I continued to chant, waiting for something new to happen, something worse, something different, something to signal that what I was doing was working.

My doubts began to surface; what if this didn't work? What if Beelphegor possessed me? Or hurt Thomas? I should have told him to leave, not just the basement but the house, to leave while he could, not selfishly keep him with me because I was afraid to do this alone.

"Prodiit nos receperint vos. Prodiit nos "

Suddenly I felt something. It was hard to describe, almost like a strong wind coming at me from all directions, except it didn't move anything. It did however, rob me of my breath. I doubled over as the feeling intensified. My skin felt tight, my head pounded as if I had a migraine and my heart fluttered like a hummingbird.

I had to clench my jaw to keep from crying out in pain, but I was doing my best to continue repeating the chant through clenched teeth. The lights began to explode around me and then nothing.

Everything stopped.

I fell forward onto my hands, panting as though I had just run a marathon.

Tentatively I opened my eyes. My head still pounded and I felt sick, but I thought it was over.

"Thomas?"

I looked around for him and saw him lying on the floor looked dazed, then I noticed the fallen light fitting near him.

"Thomas!" I dashed over to him, giving little thought to the burning candles.

He looked into my eyes as I hovered above him.

"Did she do it?"

"I did," I assured him. "It's over."

He tried to sit up and I helped him, kneeling beside him. I checked his head over for wounds; he wasn't bleeding but he did have a bit of an egg on the crown of his head.

"I'm fine," he said, pulling my hand away. "I'm fine."

"We did it," I smiled at him.

He returned my smile but his seemed slightly melancholy. Still, he was injured and in pain so I didn't think much of it.

"Shit! I exclaimed, turning back to the candles. "I didn't spill the wax." I returned to the circle and blew each candle out, knocking it over so the wax spilled into the floor. "Do you think that's all right?" I asked Tom. "I didn't leave it too long?"

"I'm sure everything will be fine," he reassured me.

"Let's go up to the apartment," I suggested.

Tom nodded and got to his feet, and I rushed over to help him. I would have left the candles and the ingot, there were more important things going on right now, but Tom went over and picked them up, so I grabbed my bag to store them in. I glanced around one last time, looking for anything that could be used to identify me; I really didn't feel like being blamed for the damage to the stone and lights down here.

As we left the basement, I didn't exactly feel great; I had a headache and still felt queasy, but I was sure those feelings would pass.

Once on his feet Thomas seemed okay, and we climbed out of the basement together, although I cast one look back before he turned the main lights off and could see nothing amiss. Halfway up the stairs however, I felt a terrible cramping in my stomach and doubled over as I let out a small cry of pain.

"Katherine!" Tom was at my side in a second. "Are you alright?"

The pain was quickly passing now but I took a few deep breaths. "I think so."

"Here." Before I could protest, he swept me into his arms.

"You have a head injury, put me down."

"I'm fine," he smiled at me, then tightened his grip when I tried to wriggle out of his arms, admonishing me to, "Behave!"

Honestly, with the ever present fear of the last week and a bit, the crescendo of terror I'd felt this evening and whatever that spell did to me, I was exhausted and in no mood to argue. If he said he was fine, he was fine.

Thomas carried me through to the bedroom before he placed me on my feet.

"Early night," I said, stripping out of my dress and letting it fall to the floor. "Best idea you've ever had."

Another crippling cramp overtook me and I felt a twinge of fear.

"It's okay," Thomas said, appearing at my side in a second. "It's probably just a reaction to the ritual and after a good night's sleep, you'll be fine again."

He guided me to the bed and settled me under the covers, then he quickly removed the rest of his clothes and climbed in the other side, sliding over to spoon me and gently rubbing my tummy where it had hurt.

"Ssh," he crooned softly, "Just try to relax and sleep, darling, everything will feel better in the morning, I promise."

I hoped he was right but I was too tired to think much about it.

I awoke in the morning to a strange feeling; hope.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I felt the ever present dread that I had been living with but a moment later, I realised that we had succeeded in banishing Lucille, or Beelphegor or whatever her name was. We were free.

Free to make love without turning lighting into a fire hazard.

Free to leave this house and its ghosts far behind.

Free to make Thomas's visions of our future come true.

He was still spooning me but I turned gently in his arms and gaze upon his sleeping countenance. He looked so peaceful, without that little frown line that had often marred the space between his brows recently.

With any luck, we could both be this peaceful in our waking hours from now on too.

Well okay, life still had plenty of stresses and strains, but nothing like we'd just endured. The hassle of something like moving house would be a welcome relief compared to the last two weeks. And we would have to move house at some point, my little home really wasn't fit for someone like Thomas, who was used to a mansion.

But all that could wait because right now, I just wanted to enjoy being with him.

We only had two more days here and I couldn't decide whether to book another week and try to enjoy the house, or leave immediately. I had expected to associate the house with bad memories but the thought of staying on didn't bother me because despite the house's gruesome past, it was part of Thomas's history, part of him essentially and for that reason alone, I could never dislike this place.

Not that I was voluntarily going into the basement ever again; the very memory of going down there made me shudder.

Thomas stirred and smiled without opening his eyes.

"Good morning," he mumbled in his sleep filled, gravelly morning voice.

"Morning," I replied.

Thomas sighed and reached out for me, pulling me flush against him, finally cracking his eyes open.

"How are you?" he asked me.

"I'm okay," I assured him. "I feel kind of hopeful, actually."

"Only kind of?" he smiled.

"A part of me is expecting the other shoe to drop," I admitted. "Is she really gone?"

His smile turned into a smirk. "One way to find out."

"You've been awake all of sixty seconds," I laughed.

"And I've been looking at you for thirty of those seconds, of course I'm aroused!"

"Charmer."

Thomas's hands began wandering, one to my bum and the other to my breasts and I returned the favour, grasping his length. Morning wood can be a very good thing. Our love making was less urgent this morning but no less passionate, and Thomas proved that his skill in the bedroom wasn't limited to distracting me.

Not a single light turned on or flickered.

"She's really gone, isn't she?" I asked as I lay, basking in the afterglow with my head on his chest.

"It's over," he agreed.

When we got up we had breakfast in the restaurant, then Thomas wanted to show me around the grounds so we went for a walk, and I listened attentively as he told me stories of how things used to be or look, and shared some of his happier memories of living here.

I also discovered that Thomas had quite the playful and teasing nature at times. I'd seen signs of it before, but I had been too stressed to enjoy it, and rather likely to issue a sharp retort. Now though, the sound of my laughter could be heard ringing out over the hills and dales as he first tickled, then playfully chased me through the grounds of his childhood home.

We agreed to stay on for another week, so when we got back to the house I arranged it with reception. Luckily, since they had only recently opened and were not fully booked, that was no problem.

That afternoon I really had to knuckle down and work on my article and review, which I had all but ignored since this started. Thankfully, I had made a lot of notes so I had everything I necessary to complete it. I needed the laptop, so I set Thomas up on my tablet computer and after a brief tutorial on how to use Google and YouTube, I left him to fend for himself. He had expressed a desire understand the modern world, not just how to navigate it, but how everything worked. Unfortunately I only understood how most devices worke in the most basic sense, and things like radios and washing machines were a total mystery.

Which is why I thanked the internet for its existence; there is very little that the internet doesn't know or can't explain.

He seemed engrossed and I smiled occasionally as he uttered things such as "Brilliant," "Amazing!" "Ingenious."

Even although I had no worries distracting me from my work, Thomas was his own distraction and I took all my willpower to focus on what I was doing.

Over the next few days I finished a rough draft of the article, which was going to be a feature, thus longer than usual, and my review. On the third day post Lucille, Thomas sweet talked the receptionist into giving us access to other apartments that were unoccupied and other off limits places in the house, so I could take photos for the article. It also had the side benefit of allowing Thomas to check some more of his mother's hiding places.

"Why didn't you check them after she died?" I asked as I watched Thomas open a secret compartment in a fireplace surround.

"It seemed disrespectful," he explained. "Besides, there didn't seem to be any rush, they would still be there when we wanted them."

It made sense, I supposed.

That day he found a set of inlaid silver trinket boxes, three sets of letters bound in ribbon, a silver hip flask (which had belonged to Thomas's father, he explained to me), and a set of medals that had belonged to his mother's father, including a Crimean Medal, a Turkish Crimean medal and a Victoria Cross. Finally he unearthed a silver brush, mirror and comb set.

I enjoyed seeing the other apartments and how they differed from my own, especially the larger and more luxurious ones, and I took a lot of photos.

After that we went into town and shopped for dinner ingredients, so we could have a nice evening snuggling in front of the fire. I decide to make a chicken casserole, which would leave more time for snuggling while it slowly cooked. I realised we should have just nuked something we already had when Thomas's eyes lit up as we entered the shop. Again we left with far more than we needed.

Thomas spent the afternoon on his tablet while I prepared the meal (I didn't mind, I love cooking). Thomas was engrossed in his readings and I smiled each time I glanced at him across the island that separated the kitchen area from the living room.

Sometimes I felt so ridiculously lucky to have found someone like him, someone so loving, attentive, intelligent and educated. Truth be told, he was way out of my league.

I reached into the condiments cupboard for some salt and one of the herb bags fell out and landed face down so when I picked it up, with most of the contents gone I could see through to the back of the label.

Frowning I turned it to the front, which read 'Tarragon'. Turning it around again, I may have been reading backwards but it definitely did not read tarragon. I examined the label and saw that it actually had two, one on top of the other.

I tried to read the backwards writing.

Annodalleb. Belladonna. Deadly nightshade. An ancient poison.

It was the berry that killed, not the leaves but still, they couldn't be good for you. No wonder I felt so bad after drinking the tea.

I checked the other herbs and saw that they all had false labels too.

I felt sick to my stomach and my hands were shaking.

Why? I couldn't understand any of this but I knew my intuition had been right, I should never have trusted Thomas.

I looked over to him now and wondered exactly how much of our relationship was a lie?