Raven Lenore, a character from my Morgaine Series, is both a psychic and a private investigator. An old friend and FBI agent calls on her to help him solve a murder that involves the occult. When the murderer is shot and killed, the case seems to be over. The murder was committed in order to steal an antique bottle which Raven learns contains an evil presence, one that exerts control over her. It causes her and her boy friend, a stage illusionist, to travel to upstate New York to a mysterious mansion called Riverlook. The evil forces within Riverlook conspire to cause Raven to travel through a time door to the eighteenth century, where she encounters an evil sorcerer and his mad wife. The sorcerer is so powerful that there seems to be no way for to escape his control over her and return to the twenty-first century.
All three novels of dark sensual occult power, madness and sorcery are available at Fictionwise eBooks.
Before coming to the place where he was to receive the final rites that would make him an Adept in The Society of the Thirteen, Abdul-Azim Mujib went to his knees and bowed in prayer at his mosque. He felt he needed all of Allah's help to see him through the ordeal. The first twelve steps to achieve this singular honor were difficult, painful and frightening, each higher rite being worse than the last. The first few were not all that bad; he was only required to memorize and repeat long passages from a book, swear to never reveal any of the societies secrets, swear to absolute loyalty and obedience even unto death, endure long stretches in awkward positions and fast for days. After the fifth rite, excruciating pain was also involved. In addition, he needed to solve puzzles within a given time period; failure to do meant expulsion from the cult and perhaps execution. More disturbing than the pain and the possibility of death were the frightening occult images during the initiations. Whether they were real or induced by a drug that had been given to him in the wine he was always given to drink, he was not absolutely certain. They included visions of phantoms, demons, jinn and unthinkable horrors. Nonetheless, the final result would be worth the pain and terror. Once he proved himself by doing whatever the thirteenth step required, he would be one of the elect, would learn all the society's occult secrets and be assured a place in Paradise.
The building where he reported for the thirteenth step was daunting in itself. It was an ancient mansion overlooking the Hudson River and surrounded by woods. He arrived just past midnight. Before entering, he gazed up at the sky. The planet Jupiter was directly overhead. Hence, he knew he had arrived at exactly the correct moment as he was ordered to do. He gave the secret knock. A figure in a long dark robe whose face was hidden behind a cowl, like a representation of death, opened the door and silently waved him in.
The foyer's walls were of dark wood paneling. Since the only lighting was from a few candles, the gloom prevented Mujib from seeing much and added to his nervousness. Although the house was chilly, sweat rolled down his back. He made a fist to keep his hands from trembling. In his mind, he said, Courage. This is what you've been waiting for. Blessed be Allah. Allah will protect.
He was taken to a room at the end of the hall. The figure in the dark robe opened the door and indicated that Mujib should enter. He stepped through into absolute blackness and silence, as though he were entering a tomb. The door quietly closed behind him. He waited impatiently and fearfully for something more to happen. Sweat ran in rivulets down the small of his back and dripped from his forehead into his eyes. He stiffened his knees to keep them from buckling. He prayed to Allah to give him courage.
After several minutes, a hollow voice, as though from one of the dead, said, "Abdul-Azim Mujib, remove your garments. Strip everything until you appear before us as naked as the moment of your birth." The voice did not come from a single source, but seemed to surround him.
This is going to be very bad, he thought as he removed his clothing. He envisioned torture involved with his private parts.
When he finished undressing, someone touched his arm and handed him a goblet. The strange sounding voice said, "Drink the bitter brew. As an Adept you will need to swallow many bitter things."
He drank from the vessel. As promised, it was extremely bitter. It took him a while to get the goblets contents down without gagging. When he was finished, the cup was taken from him. Suddenly the room was ablaze with light. Acrid smoke came from braziers on stanchions in each corner. Mujib thought that it smelled of hashish.
Otherwise the room was empty except for a small altar upon which rested a crystal. The walls were covered with murals that depicted scenes of torture and of debauchery involving humans and unspeakable creatures. No person other than himself was in the room. The only exit was the one from which he had entered.
The strange disembodied voice said, "Yes, look around at the scenes painted on the walls, Abdul. That will be your fate should you reveal our secrets, disobey the thirteen masters, or fail in the tasks we assign you. On the other hand, if you are loyal servant of The Thirteen, you will be rewarded handsomely, not only in this short life, but in the afterlife. Do you understand and swear your loyalty and fealty, even unto death, should we ask it of you?"
"I do. I swear on all that is sacred to me."
"Very well. Go to the altar and pick up the crystal."
He did as he was told, wiping his sweating palms on thighs before taking the object in his hands.
"If you look closely, you will see that the crystal has many five sided facets. Bring the crystal up to your eyes and gaze into one of the facets. What do you see?"
Mujib stared into the crystal as ordered. Within its interior was a scene, a beautiful garden with stone paths, many different flowering plants, and trees. Scattered about were intricately designed sculptures. To his utter amazement, tiny people moved about the garden, specifically, three naked women. "I-I see a beautiful garden with naked women strolling along its pathways."
"You are viewing the paradise that await you when you have finished the thirteenth step of your initiation. Once you have completed the task we will assign, we will teach you how to enter Paradise at will. At your demise, the Paradise you see will be yours forever. On this night, we will allow you a small sample of the good fortune that awaits you. When you return from Paradise, you will be given a mission to complete. That is the thirteenth and final step of your initiation into our order. Do you understand what is required?"
Mujib nodded. "You will allow me to sample Paradise." He assumed that it meant that he would be given a psychedelic drug. "Afterwards, I am to perform a mission which will be given me before I leave this house."
"That is correct. Now enjoy Paradise. May Allah be with you."
The next moment, Mujib found himself in the garden he had viewed through crystal. It was not at all dreamlike. Everything about him seemed solid and real at though he had been teleported there. As he stood on one of the paths, the three naked women approached him. They were young and beautiful with heavenly bodies. One had long flowing blonde hair and carried an ud (a stringed instrument something like a mandolin). The second had red hair and played a mizmar (a double-reed wind instrument), while the third, who had olive skin and dark hair danced in an erotic manner.
They came up to him and laid down their instruments on the path. The blonde said, "I am Sheila. These are my friends Lucinda ..." She pointed to the one with red hair. "... and Esmeralda." She indicated the darker woman. "We are here to serve you. Would you like us to sing and dance for you?"
"Or perhaps you would like something to eat," said Esmeralda. She plucked a fruit from a nearby tree and put it to Mujib's lips. He took a bite into his mouth. It was the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted. "Do you like it?" she asked.
"Very much." He smiled at her.
"Perhaps it is wine you crave," said Lucinda. Somehow she had a goblet in her hand. Like Esmeralda, she place the cup to his mouth. He took a sip. It was ambrosia.
Not to be outdone, Sheila trust herself forward, took his hand and placed it on her naked breast. "It may be love that you want."
Mujib was dumb struck by the attention of these beautiful women. This was indeed Paradise. "I-I would enjoy all those things."
"Very well. Then you shall have them."
She took up her instrument and began to play. Lucinda sang a heart-rending love song. Esmeralda danced an erotic belly dance. When the song was finished, they had Mujib lay in the grass where they fed him various fruits of the garden, gave him more of the tasty wine to drink and one at a time each of them lay with him. The sex with these women was like being in heaven with Allah. To his own amazement, he was able to perform with all three, one right after the other, with no rest and was randy again afterwards.
Nonetheless, as he was about to have sex with Esmeralda a second time, a voice said, "Your time in Paradise is over for now. You must leave Paradise to complete your thirteenth and final step of your initiation as an Adept of The Thirteen."
As swiftly as he had arrived, he was no longer in the garden, but again in the strange room staring at the crystal. Although he peered into it, he no longer saw the garden or the women. Upon the altar lay an envelope. He realized that it must contain his orders and whatever information he needed to fulfill them. He replaced the crystal on the altar, picked up his clothes, dressed, placed the envelope in his jacket pocket and left the house. He felt pleased, not only did he not have to endure torture but had a wonderful experience. He wondered what his orders were. He knew that whatever it was he would complete it quickly in order to return to the lovely garden and the three gorgeous women.
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Raven has been plagued by nightmares ever since Peter Magbertius returned to the land of the dead. In the latest one, she dreams that she meets him in a dark forest where he implores her to bring him back from the dead. After she wakes up, she asks her familiar, Mephistopheles, how she can rid herself of his presence. The cat's only reply is that "The answer will come soon."
When she goes to her office, a client, Mordecai Wilsey, a mortician wants her to find a corpse that has been stolen from his mortuary. He has buried the empty coffin and does not want his duplicity or the theft to be known. Nonetheless, he wants the thief or thieves caught. Raven interviews the dead man's relatives with no result. However, when she calls upon the missing corpse's best friend, Peter Morgan, he talks about a vampire named Celia and that he saw the dead man alive and walking about.
Raven sets up a surveillance of the mortuary. She sees someone enter it and catches Celia VanGrimm drinking blood drained from a corpse. Celia swears that she had nothing to do with stealing the corpse, but that Peter Morgan is one of her blood donors. She tells Raven that she can be contacted at Graceland Cemetery.
This is when her real nightmare begins as she encounters walking corpses, her doppleganger, The Beast and her arch nemesis, Peter Magbertius.
The dark, foreboding woods were so gloomy Raven could barely see two feet ahead of her. She was lost among the gnarled trunks of enormous trees. A faint mist rose from the forest floor that had the musty odor of an open tomb. As she made her way along the twisted path, she felt evil eyes upon her and shivered with fear and apprehension. Which way to go? And what was it that tracked her? Although she tried not to panic, her teeth chattered and her breath became labored. Whatever it was, it could not be human or even part of the natural world.
She stopped to get her bearings and calm herself. She reached for her pistol although she doubted that the thing behind her could be harmed by bullets. But her shoulder holster was empty. Did she leave her gun at home when she entered the woods? Then why was she wearing the holster? She could not recall putting it on or whether the automatic was in it. If she had lost her pistol in the forest, it would be impossible to find in the dark and the mist.
Whatever was behind her was closing fast. Its breathing was like an enormous dog panting, its presence, a bitter cold of terror upon her back. She increased her pace as much as she dared without tripping over objects in the gloom. It was not enough. The thing was almost upon her. She turned to face it and went into a martial arts stance.
To her utter surprise, it was a man, a man she knew. She shuddered. He was the only person she had ever feared, the man who had made her his abject slave, the man who was a powerful sorcerer and an evil necromancer -- Peter Magbertius.
"Peter, how did you get here?" She knew there was a reason that he should not be standing in front of her. For the moment, however, it escaped her.
"'Tis the place where I abide now. How be you, Raven? Look at you, as beautiful as ever."
Suddenly she was naked. His smoldering eyes slowly scrutinized her from head to toe. As his gaze moved down her body to her breasts, her belly and her lower chakra, she felt as though icy fingers had touched each part.
"Come to me," he ordered.
Raven wanted to resist, but knew it was useless. His will was too powerful. She stepped forward until she was in his arms. In an instant he was also naked. She leaned into him, her nipples tickled by the hair on his bare chest. He raised her head by the chin and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss lingered for an eternity during which her heart beat wildly. She knew she was lost again and would do whatever he asked. He whispered in her ear, "Bring me back, My Darling. Bring me back."
* * *
Raven was soaked with perspiration as she woke from the nightmare. She trembled from the terror and arousal she had experienced. She cursed, "Damned monster. Why do I dream of that bastard yet?"
Magbertius had been dead an entire year. Yet the nightmares persisted. Nightmares, because they always took place in a dark and frightening place, such as the woods in her most recent one, and because she was terrified of the sorcerer and the hold he'd had on her when he was alive.
She was a psychic, and as such, she knew dreams were portents of future events. She thought, In the dream, he said, 'Bring me back.' Bring him back from where? She knew the answer -- from the dead. But how? And would she want to? Was it was true that she was in love with him?
"No, damn it. Not fucking 'in love,' 'obsessed with' . Not even that. I was bewitched, put under a spell."
Raven was an independent woman. She never wanted to be under anyone's control. And yet, somehow he had made her his concubine, one who obeyed his every command.
To make her obsession with him an even worse fate, Peter Magbertius was not a good man. He had derived his power from evil sources. She did not know exactly who or what they were, only that they were sinister entities.
When he appeared in her dreams, she needed to fight with all her will the impulse to obey him. She was sure that wherever his aura resided that it was he who sent the nightmares to ensnare her and make her again his slave woman.
Her cat leaped upon the bed. She scratched him under the chin. "How can I free myself from his influence, Mephistopheles?"
A voice in her head said, "What I see in your future concerning the sorcerer is dim, but soon you will know the answer."
"How? From whom?"
The telepathic cat refused to reply. He meowed loudly, which meant that he was hungry and wished to be fed.
After Raven fed the cat, she gobbled down a bowl of cereal, took a shower, dressed and took a bus to her downtown office. She decided to forget about Peter Magbertius and the dreams. If Mephistopheles was right, soon her dilemma would be solved.
* * *
A tall cadaverous gentleman had been waiting patiently for her arrival. He was well dressed in a suit and tie. Raven estimated his age as late forties, early fifties. He was extremely pale, as though he never went out during the daylight hours. He seemed to have a permanently sad expression etched into his face.
Raven's business did not make enough money for her to hire a receptionist. In fact, her last case was not only pro bono once the FBI had decided that the case was closed, but actually cost her portion of her savings.
As she entered, the man stood and offered his hand. His grip was flabby, and his hand had a softness unusual in a male. "My name is Mordecai Wilsey."
"Raven Lenore. Please come into my office." She led him into the cubbyhole that held her beat-up used desk and a straight back wooden chair for guests. Once they were seated,, she asked, "How may I help you?"
"Before I tell you my problem, I need to know that our conversation will be strictly confidential."
"Of course. Private investigators are like lawyers and doctors. Client confidentiality is a given."
"Even if I concealed the execution of a crime?"
"Absolutely. What crime are you guilty of?"
"Not me. Well ... a misdemeanor perhaps. But I am the victim of a greater crime which I did not report to the police. In fact, I actually helped the perpetrator by concealing what he did."
"I don't quite follow. Regardless, unless you murdered someone, everything you tell me will not leave this office. My lips are sealed. Please explain what happened, and what you want me to do."
His thin lips curled into a tight ingratiating smile. "I'm the owner of a mortuary, The Wilsey Funeral Home." He handed Raven his business card. "Last week, the morning after the wake of a young man by the name of John Grebelowski, I went to seal the coffin for burial, and his remains were gone. Someone had broken into my place of business during the night and took him. I panicked and sealed the coffin anyway. I never reported the crime or told his relatives. I simply allowed the empty coffin to be buried."
"I see. And you are hiring me to do what?"
"Find out who stole the loved one and have him returned to me."
"And what about the perpetrator? Do you wish to press charges against her or him?"
"Heavens no. If this ever got out, I'd be ruined. Perhaps you could threaten the person so that he or she would never commit such a crime again. It may have been a prankster. What other motive would someone have for stealing the deceased?"
"That depends. What did Mr. Grebelowski die of?"
"Sudden cardiac arrest."
"So, you don't believe that this is a case where a murderer wants to destroy the evidence of a crime?"
Wilsey took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. "At the time of Mr. Grebelowski's passing there was no suggestion of anything unusual. The death certificate said simply that he died of cardiac arrest. As far as know, no police were involved. No one ever hinted at such a thing."
"Well, suppose he was poisoned. There are poisons that can cause the heart to suddenly stop beating."
"He was examined by a physician at the time of death. As far as I know, nothing untoward was suspected by the coroner's office or the police."
"Yet, you'll grant that the possibility exists?"
"I suppose."
"Tell me something. Suppose I find out who stole Wilsey's corpse and return it to you. What will you do with the body?"
"I know the cemetery people very well and do a lot of business with them. I'm sure they would dig up the coffin and allow me to place John in the ground where he belongs without making a fuss."
"I see. Suppose my hypothesis about a murderer stealing the body to destroy evidence turns out to be correct, who would stand to benefit by his death?"
"No one that I can think of. He did not have life insurance. He lived with his mother and more or less supported her. His father had passed several years ago. He has an older married sister, but as far as. I know he had no money of his own. The sister chose our least expensive coffin."
"I see. It's quite a mystery then. Okay. I'll take your case. My fee is fifty dollars an hour plus travel expenses while I'm actually working the case. I'll give you a written report at the end of the week. At that time you can tell me whether you want me to continue. I'll need a one hundred dollar advance. Is that agreeable?"
Wilsey shrugged. "I suppose so. I knew this would be expensive."
"I'll get my standard contract." Raven rose and took two copies of her contract from the filing cabinet. She filled in some details and handed them to Wilsey. "Read them over. If there's anything you object to, let me know. Otherwise, sign where it says "Client Signature."
She sat back while Wilsey read over the contract and signed both copies. She also signed them both and handed one back to the funereal director.
He said, "I'll need to write a check. I don't have that much cash on me."
"Fine."
He handed her a check for a hundred dollars, and they shook hands. Raven did not think it would take more than a couple of days to find out who took the corpse. People who steal things like corpses usually leave a trail a mile wide.
The president of the United States is replaced by a robot, and his chief advisor is the resurrected dead Nicholas Machevelli. In this novel, Raven Lenore must find out who is behind the attempt to take over the United States government and intiate a conquest of the world. The trail leads to a strange mansion in Maine which seems to have rooms that are in other dimensions. In the cellar, she find a laboratory and machine shop where humanoid robots are being constructed and a talking robot head. Soon Raven, the robot head and her two partners, The Beast Henry Bagyar and Annie B, a woman she met in prison, are trapped in other worlds. She discovers that her nemesis, Magbertius is behind the entire plot. But the knowledge does her no good as she becomes trapped in the eighteenth century.
They tried the doors on the first floor and found a sitting room, a library and a den. A door in the den led to another wing. They decided to leave that for another day. Raven glanced through the books in the library, which were mostly about science, engineering and mathematics, with an emphasis on software engineering, robotics and artificial intelligence. One whole section, however, was devoted to the paranormal. This caught Raven's attention, and she spent a while browsing through them. While she thumbed through the books, Annie B and Bagyar played checkers using chess pieces on a small table.
Finally Annie B became bored. "I thought we were going to explore the house, not read every book in the library."
"Oh. Okay. Let's go." Raven laid the book in her hand on a table and headed into the foyer.
They climbed the steps to the second floor. Doors along a long hallway led to several bedrooms. By this time, the storm outside had abated to a steady rain. Raven yawned and glanced at her watch. It was after eleven in the evening. "Hey guys," she said. "It's been a long day, and it's still raining. What say we hit the sack and decide what to do in the morning?"
"Sounds good to me," replied Bagyar. He too stretched and yawned.
Annie B eyed them. "I suppose you want me to go into another room. Well, no way. I'm not going to be alone in this creepy house."
Bagyar said, "That's all right. I'm too tired for hanky-panky. I'll take that bedspread and curl up in a corner."
The bedspread was quite dusty. Annie B. said, "You're welcome to it. How about it, Raven? Think we can share the bed? It'll be like old times in the slammer."
"Just as long as you don't get any ideas. I've given up Lesbianism."
Bagyar removed the bedspread, shook it out, which filled the air with dust making everyone sneeze, and squashed it up in a corner of the room. Raven and Annie B stripped to their bras and panties and got into the four poster bed.
* * *
Raven felt uneasy in the small meadow lit up by a full moon and surrounded by forest. Something dreadful was about to happen. All around her shadows shaped like monks with cowls came out of the woods, chanting in Latin. They joined hands and formed a circle around her, as though casting a spell with her as the object. One came forward with a ceremonial dagger in his hand.
"Who are you? What are you going to do?" cried Raven. Faint with terror, her knees trembled until she was sure she would collapse. Yet she was frozen in place. Is this how it all ends? she thought.
The apparition, who was more shadow than solid, swept his cowl back. To add to her despair, it was her nemesis, Magbertius. He grinned at her. "I knew you would come to me."
"What's this all about, Peter? Have you manipulated events to bring me here? Am I to be your slave again?"
"No. I do not want a slave, but a true lover. Nonetheless, I still have an influence on you. I am soon to be overlord of the entire world. Become mine willingly, and anything you desire shall be yours."
"My only desire is to be rid of you."
He raised the dagger. "So, you still spurn me. You shall suffer for it." As he plunged the dagger into her heart, there was a loud crash.
* * *
The crash was the thunderstorm starting up again. It had awakened Raven from her nightmare. "Damn," she whispered. "That ass hole Magbertius is trying to get into my head again. I wonder whether he has anything to do with this business with the president and this strange house."
She glanced over at her companions. Annie B was sleeping peacefully on her side, snoring softly. It was too dark to see whether Bagyar was still in his corner. Nonetheless, she stared into the place where he had laid. A lightning strike lit up the room. The bedspread was still crumpled up, but Bagyar was not on it. "Henry," she called softly. There was no reply. She got out of bed and retrieved her flashlight. She searched the room with it. Bagyar was not there.
She shook Annie B awake.
"What? What's the matter?" she said in a sleepy voice.
"Bagyar's gone. He's not in the room."
Annie B. yawned. "He probably went to take a piss or something. Come back to bed."
"No. I had a nightmare. Something's happened to him."
"Oh come on, Raven. What could've happened?"
"I don't know. I just know that something is terribly wrong."
"I suppose you want me to get up and help you look for him."
"Please."
Annie B muttered and grumbled as she got up and slipped back into her clothes, which she had hung on the bed post. She complained that they were still damp. Raven donned her own garments, and the two women crept down the staircase. They searched the kitchen first. That would be the most likely place that Bagyar would be. They looked into the other rooms on the first floor in the main part of the house. No Bagyar.
"Do you think he went into another wing?" Raven asked.
"We can look, but I don't see why he would do that. Of course, who knows what a wolfman would do?"
"Well, I'm sure he wouldn't go out in the rain. Let's explore the east wing."
The east wing was dusty, musty, full of enormous cobwebs and filled with old furniture and sealed boxes. It looked as though no one had been through it in decades. In addition, it was not a straight and even hallway. It widened and narrowed and turned in odd and convoluted ways. In some parts there were three or four steps that led up to another level and then again down in no particular pattern until Raven became quite confused. There were also side hallways, making the wing a sort of labyrinth.
She and Annie B opened doors along it. Mostly they led to empty or storage rooms. Some rooms had second and even third doors that led elsewhere. They did not open these. Every once in a while, Raven hollered, "Henry! Henry Bagyar! Are you there? Yell if you hear me." She was answered by the awful silence of the creepy house. The only sounds were the occasional thunder, the relentless rain, howling of the wind and the creaking of the old structure.
At the end of the hallway the came upon double doors that led to at what at first glance seemed to be a shadowy chapel with short pews on either side of an aisle. As Raven shined the light around, she realized that this was no Christian place of worship. Although the gloom made it difficult to see, goblins, monsters and gargoyles were in the niches where she expected to see statues of saints. The stained glass windows illustrated mystical symbols, pyramids, devils, demons and pagan deities. The altar contained a skull in the center, with a cup and a candle on the left side and a bellows and a box of salt on the right.
When Annie B saw that, she cried, "This is a place of devil worship. No way am I going in there."
"Not necessarily devil worship. It might Wiccan or some other pagan worship. Those objects on the altar represent the four elements of alchemy. No sense going in anyway. It's obvious that Bagyar isn't here. Let's go back."
The passage back to the main house was so convoluted that they missed the door that led back to the main house. Their flashlights became to dim. A great crash of simultaneous thunder and lightning made them jump into each other's arms.
Raven said, "Somehow we passed the entrance to the alcove. None of this familiar."
Annie B's voice trembled. "You're right. Maybe that's what happened to Wolf-Guy. Like us, he got lost in this big old house. Let's get back to our room."
"If we can find it."
They turned back the way they came, but did not encounter a familiar landmark. Somehow they had come to a spiral staircase.
"This must lead up to a tower," said Raven. "Maybe if we look out a window up there we can get our bearings." Although she tried not to show her increasing panic, she became apprehensive that they would not find their way back in the maze of hallways.
They climbed several flights. At the end was a heavy oaken door. Raven half expected it to be locked. But with an effort she and Annie B pushed it open with a loud squeal of rusty hinges. The peered into a small room, which contained a single item -- a coffin.
"What the hell is that doing here?" cried Annie B.
"I don't know." Raven suspected that it might be the daytime resting place of a vampire. She was in no mood to deal one of that ilk. "C'mon, let's go back downstairs."
The returned to the ground floor. After searching a while, they found the door that lead to the alcove. From there they returned to their bedroom. Raven hoped that by some miracle Bagyar had come back. She was disappointed.
"What now? Your hairy lover is still not here." Annie B said
"Henry's my soul mate. Maybe I can contact him telepathically. Go back to bed if you like. I'm going to use a meditation technique I know for contacting people mentally."
"Okey dokey. Do your witchy stuff. If you need me, just whisper in my ear." She yawned and crawled into the bed fully clothed.
Raven sat in the middle of the room with her legs crossed so that her ankles rested on her knees. She turned her palms upward and curled her hands. She took several deep calming breaths and relaxed her entire body. When she felt her doubts and concerns leave her like water draining through a colander, she concentrated on her lover. Henry, Henry Bagyar, can you hear my thoughts? After she mentally repeated this formula several times, she went into a trance state.
She heard tiny whispers, too low to be understandable. Henry, is that you? Concentrate on communicating with me with your mind. The whispers became slight louder until she began to make out individual words, "... lost ... house ... not what it ... Raven .... what should ..." The voice faded again. Raven telepathed, Can you describe you surroundings?
There were mumbles and groans and fragments of words, but she could not make anything out. She was not even sure that the whispers in her mind were from Bagyar. Some of the voices sounded like other people.
A crash of thunder and lightning brought her out of her trance. She decided to give up. Wherever Bagyar was, he seemed to have heard her, but was unable to communicate. She had become terribly sleepy. She would search every inch of the house the next day.
She started to crawl into bed but realized that Annie B was not there. "No-o-o," she cried loudly. "Not you too."
She called out to Annie B several times. Her only answer was the continuous clatter of the rain against the window and the moaning of the wind.