Banishing the Dark
Page 33
I shook my head.
“It was a heretical Gnostic sect that popped up in the second century or so. They thought the serpent in the Garden of Eden was a hero, because it gave mankind the gift of wisdom, Sophia.”
“As in the Sophic Mass?”
All E∴E∴ lodges put on this dog-and-pony show one night every week or month, depending on the size of the lodge. I’d attended mass regularly in Florida until I went on the lam.
“Yes. Only this Gnostic sect took things to the extreme, shall we say, and believed Sophia and the serpent to be as important as Christ himself. For the most part, the sect died out in the third century. But a small group of followers persisted. There’s said to be a group of them in both Greece and France.”
“France? Is this what my mother found there?”
“I don’t know. There’s rumored to be a secret sect of them in the States. Your mother mentioned them on occasion when she was visiting the Pasadena lodge in the 1980s.”
“What did she say about them?”
“Nothing substantial. She was always interested in other magical orders, so any comment she made went in one ear and out the other . . . that is, until Magus Frances had another vision. She said she saw your mother studying in the serpent temple in secret.”
“Studying what?”
“She didn’t know, but she said Enola was hell-bent on it. Whatever it might have been, Frances thought it would tear the order apart. Perhaps it was a coincidence that she and your father attempted the Moonchild ritual again and you were born a year later. I don’t know.” He bent his stick in the middle, snapping it in two, and tossed it into the maze. “But if you’re looking for the key to your origins, I’d seek out the Ophites.”
My pulse pounded. Okay, this was good, something substantial to follow. Worth the whole trip down here. But just when I was about to ask Rooke about the temple’s location, I got a little distracted.
Several yards behind us, Evie sat down on a bench to scribble something on a business card while Lon remained standing. She handed it up to him, then playfully snatched it back when he reached for it. Laughing, she held it out for him again, and when he took it, she slowly ran her fingers over his.
What the hell did she think she was doing?
Any temporary excitement I’d felt over Rooke’s information vanished under the flare of jealousy that twisted my stomach into a knot and made my face overheat. Violent girl-on-girl thoughts filled my head.
Her fingers fell away from his, only to trail down the front of his shirt and rest on the waistband of his jeans, which she gave a gentle tug.
Nuh-uh. No. Hell, no.
I felt the rush of power ripple over my skin but didn’t recognize what was happening. Hot anger mixed with an oblique energy that swirled around me and shot toward Evie like an arrow. Branches swayed. Leaves scattered. I hadn’t moved an inch, but I felt the bark and leaves and flowers as if I were a stormy wind howling down the garden path, as if I were touching them with my own hands.
I felt the cool metal of the trash can as it lifted off the path and slammed against a nearby tree. The dense weight of the cement bench as it rose—
With Evie still on it.
Her mouth fell open. She gripped the molded gargoyle arm of the bench in terror as her legs dangled a foot above the paved path. Two feet. Three. When I blinked, my vision changed; silver light blanketed the gardens. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew this was bad. It was night, and I wasn’t standing in a protective ward. My mother could—
“Cady!”
My gaze snapped to Lon’s. The commanding intensity there was a bucket of cold water over my wayward power. I gritted my teeth and reeled it back in with a growl. The silver light retreated. Half a second later, the cement bench crashed to the ground. Evie cried out as she bounced off and tumbled to her knees.
I struggled for breath as Lon hesitated, then rushed to help Evie up. She didn’t look all that hurt, more shocked than anything. I was a little shocked, too. What the hell was the matter with me? Rooke had just finished telling me about my evil mother’s crazy outbursts of anger, and here I was, following in her footsteps.
I turned to him with an apology on my tongue and saw the evidence of what I’d just done. Not only was unfiltered awe written all over his face, but the silver light lingering in my eyes was reflected in his glasses, two eerily glowing dots.
“My God,” Rooke murmured.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” I started, glancing back at Evie. Lon was pulling her up, making sure she was okay as she brushed dirt off her knees.
“Damn me to hell,” Rooke swore as we hurried toward them. “What in God’s name did Enola do to you?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
He didn’t say anything else until we were a few yards away. “I truly don’t know the exact location of the serpent temple, but Magus Frances said it was in the desert, and your mother would visit it—back and forth in an afternoon—when your parents came to the Pasadena temple, so it can’t be that far from L.A.”
Maybe not, but we couldn’t just roam around Southern California looking for a hidden temple. “You’ve got to know something else. Mr. Rooke, please.”
He clutched his smoking jacket lapels in one hand and shook his head. Then something changed in his face. He halted long enough to tell me one last thing under his breath. “They are snake handlers, like the Pentecostal churches in the South. But they use exotic snakes—big, colorful ones that don’t belong in the desert.”
“It was a heretical Gnostic sect that popped up in the second century or so. They thought the serpent in the Garden of Eden was a hero, because it gave mankind the gift of wisdom, Sophia.”
“As in the Sophic Mass?”
All E∴E∴ lodges put on this dog-and-pony show one night every week or month, depending on the size of the lodge. I’d attended mass regularly in Florida until I went on the lam.
“Yes. Only this Gnostic sect took things to the extreme, shall we say, and believed Sophia and the serpent to be as important as Christ himself. For the most part, the sect died out in the third century. But a small group of followers persisted. There’s said to be a group of them in both Greece and France.”
“France? Is this what my mother found there?”
“I don’t know. There’s rumored to be a secret sect of them in the States. Your mother mentioned them on occasion when she was visiting the Pasadena lodge in the 1980s.”
“What did she say about them?”
“Nothing substantial. She was always interested in other magical orders, so any comment she made went in one ear and out the other . . . that is, until Magus Frances had another vision. She said she saw your mother studying in the serpent temple in secret.”
“Studying what?”
“She didn’t know, but she said Enola was hell-bent on it. Whatever it might have been, Frances thought it would tear the order apart. Perhaps it was a coincidence that she and your father attempted the Moonchild ritual again and you were born a year later. I don’t know.” He bent his stick in the middle, snapping it in two, and tossed it into the maze. “But if you’re looking for the key to your origins, I’d seek out the Ophites.”
My pulse pounded. Okay, this was good, something substantial to follow. Worth the whole trip down here. But just when I was about to ask Rooke about the temple’s location, I got a little distracted.
Several yards behind us, Evie sat down on a bench to scribble something on a business card while Lon remained standing. She handed it up to him, then playfully snatched it back when he reached for it. Laughing, she held it out for him again, and when he took it, she slowly ran her fingers over his.
What the hell did she think she was doing?
Any temporary excitement I’d felt over Rooke’s information vanished under the flare of jealousy that twisted my stomach into a knot and made my face overheat. Violent girl-on-girl thoughts filled my head.
Her fingers fell away from his, only to trail down the front of his shirt and rest on the waistband of his jeans, which she gave a gentle tug.
Nuh-uh. No. Hell, no.
I felt the rush of power ripple over my skin but didn’t recognize what was happening. Hot anger mixed with an oblique energy that swirled around me and shot toward Evie like an arrow. Branches swayed. Leaves scattered. I hadn’t moved an inch, but I felt the bark and leaves and flowers as if I were a stormy wind howling down the garden path, as if I were touching them with my own hands.
I felt the cool metal of the trash can as it lifted off the path and slammed against a nearby tree. The dense weight of the cement bench as it rose—
With Evie still on it.
Her mouth fell open. She gripped the molded gargoyle arm of the bench in terror as her legs dangled a foot above the paved path. Two feet. Three. When I blinked, my vision changed; silver light blanketed the gardens. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew this was bad. It was night, and I wasn’t standing in a protective ward. My mother could—
“Cady!”
My gaze snapped to Lon’s. The commanding intensity there was a bucket of cold water over my wayward power. I gritted my teeth and reeled it back in with a growl. The silver light retreated. Half a second later, the cement bench crashed to the ground. Evie cried out as she bounced off and tumbled to her knees.
I struggled for breath as Lon hesitated, then rushed to help Evie up. She didn’t look all that hurt, more shocked than anything. I was a little shocked, too. What the hell was the matter with me? Rooke had just finished telling me about my evil mother’s crazy outbursts of anger, and here I was, following in her footsteps.
I turned to him with an apology on my tongue and saw the evidence of what I’d just done. Not only was unfiltered awe written all over his face, but the silver light lingering in my eyes was reflected in his glasses, two eerily glowing dots.
“My God,” Rooke murmured.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” I started, glancing back at Evie. Lon was pulling her up, making sure she was okay as she brushed dirt off her knees.
“Damn me to hell,” Rooke swore as we hurried toward them. “What in God’s name did Enola do to you?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
He didn’t say anything else until we were a few yards away. “I truly don’t know the exact location of the serpent temple, but Magus Frances said it was in the desert, and your mother would visit it—back and forth in an afternoon—when your parents came to the Pasadena temple, so it can’t be that far from L.A.”
Maybe not, but we couldn’t just roam around Southern California looking for a hidden temple. “You’ve got to know something else. Mr. Rooke, please.”
He clutched his smoking jacket lapels in one hand and shook his head. Then something changed in his face. He halted long enough to tell me one last thing under his breath. “They are snake handlers, like the Pentecostal churches in the South. But they use exotic snakes—big, colorful ones that don’t belong in the desert.”
