Lovie beamed up at him, apparently pleased that he would be pleased by her information, and nodded. “I got this feelin’ before we left that Raven would be our better choice.”
“Very good, Lovie, very good,” Christopher responded with a genuine smile.
“Raven?” I asked, glancing between the two of them. “Who is Raven?” I couldn’t say I was exactly thrilled by the idea that there might be one other witch, warlock, fairy, vampire, or werewolf to witness this possession.
Christopher faced me with the expression of someone who’d just remembered I was still in the room. “Raven is a human skull,” he answered matter-of-factly as my mouth dropped open in accordance. “Raven is the better skull to have brought with us for the purposes of your situation because her lower jaw is still intact as well as all her teeth, which means she is truly a necromantic skull and will be able to converse with us and your spirit far better than Claude could, owing to the fact that he’s missing his jaw.”
I reminded myself not to ask any more questions because I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be prepared for Christopher’s responses. I was spared the need to say much more as Christopher immediately started for the hallway. Lovie was right behind him. He glanced back at me and called out over his shoulder, “We shall return momentarily after we retrieve our things.”
“Okay,” I responded as I wondered if I’d just gotten myself in over my head. Human skulls? Was it even legal to own a human skull and, furthermore, how in the hell had Christopher and Lovie procured one? I suddenly had an image of the two of them digging one up and hoped that scenario was as far from the truth as possible. And, really, there was no way I was going to broach the topic with the reluctant warlock so I figured I’d never know.
Christopher and Lovie were gone for maybe ten minutes before I heard the sounds of their footsteps on the pathway up to the front door, which Christopher had left open. I met them in the foyer. “Do you need help carrying anything?” I offered.
Christopher immediately turned his nose up at me. “We can manage,” he answered succinctly before glancing around himself. “You must direct us to the space where you believe Drake’s energy is at its strongest.”
“The master bedroom,” I answered without pause. Then I led them both upstairs and pushed open the double doors, watching them place their numerous boxes and bags in the corner of the room. Christopher rummaged through one of them and produced an oatmeal-colored, waxy, oblong piece of something that resembled soap. He handed it to me.
“While we are setting up, you need to wash yourself with this. Wash every inch of your body as well as your hair. Allow yourself to air-dry.” He bent down again and thrust his hand into what looked like a black velvet satchel, producing a white garment of some sort, which he then thrust in my direction. “When you have air-dried, put this on.”
I accepted the garment and nodded. “Why do I have to shower?”
“To ensure your body is clean before Drake takes possession of it. The soap is made with purifying and cleansing oils, and the gown is made of pure cotton,” Christopher answered before turning his back on me, which I imagined signified that our conversation was over and I needed to go “purify” myself in the shower. I didn’t say anything more but started for the double doors and headed down the staircase, feeling only slightly nervous about showering in the guest bathroom where only minutes earlier, I’d witnessed the Axeman’s message displayed across the mirror.
Hoping I was safer now that two witches were in my house, I decided to leave the bathroom door open as I turned the water on in my shower. Once it was warm, I hopped inside and was careful to lather myself with the cleansing soap from head to toe. Fortunately the soap had a nice scent to it—of rosemary or something similar. Wanting to be as clean as possible, I even repeated my ministrations a second time just to make sure I hadn’t missed any part of me that might taint Christopher’s ritual. Yep, Drake was going to have one hell of a clean host.
I turned the water off once I was happy with my cleanliness and then stepped onto the bath rug, remembering Christopher’s instructions to allow myself to air-dry. I tried to ring the water out of my hair to aid in the drying process and then shook myself off like I was a wet dog. Even though I tried to keep myself from doing it, I glanced across at the mirror only to find it completely clean. There were no ghostly words formed from the steam of the room, and the only thing reflected back at me was my dripping self.
After another few minutes, during which time I squeegeed the water off my body with my hands and then rung out my hair once more, I figured I was as dry as I was going to get. I plopped the nightgown over my head and pulled it down over my body, the hem just dusting the floor. If not for my bobbed hair, I would’ve looked like a character from Little House on the Prairie.
Starting for the door, I made my way down the hallway and up the stairs, taking a deep breath before I walked through the double doors of my master bedroom. As soon as I did, I immediately noticed a card table in the center of the room with a white sheet covering it. On top of the table were various white bowls of God only knew what, as well as a black and a white candle, an incense burner, a bell, what looked like a dagger, and something else that looked like a small cauldron. My breath caught in my throat as soon as my gaze settled on the human skull sitting off to the side on the table. I couldn’t seem to pull my attention from the cavernous holes where its eyes had once been or the long and square teeth that decorated its jaw, making it look as if it were smiling at me.
“Lovie, are you ready?” Christopher asked. I then noticed Lovie was sitting to the right of the table, her attention on me.
She simply nodded and held out both of her hands to me. I placed my hands in hers and allowed her to pull me closer to her. She stood up and smiled at me warmly, but even so, my body was a nervous, fidgety mess. I was scared. There was no use in trying to deny it because my hands were shaking.
“We must first contact Drake so we can walk him through the ritual. We have ta have his permission before we can begin the possession,” Lovie said.
I simply nodded and wondered how in the world we were going to reach Drake. Up until now I’d only been able to converse with him in my dreams. But I had a feeling that was about to change.
“You an’ I are gonna contact him together,” Lovie continued. “Ordinarily I would contact him mahself but because you two have such a strong connection already, I believe we’ll have more luck doin’ so together.”
That made sense. “Okay.”
She led me to the chair that she’d previously occupied and pushed lightly on my shoulders to suggest that I should sit down. I did as I was instructed and folded my hands in my lap as I faced her for further directions.
“You need ta be in a receptive state,” she started, her voice lullaby soft. “In order ta do that, I want you ta close yer eyes.” I did as I was told. “Very good. Now, Peyton, I want you ta breathe slowly an’ deeply. Breathe in for a count o’ five an’ breathe out for a count o’ five. Imagine takin’ in the air that is full o’ Drake’s spirit as you expel yer spirit, which he then breathes in. You are unitin’ yerself with the air, becomin’ one with the air, such that Drake can inhale an’ exhale yer life force an’ become one with you.”
I didn’t point out the fact that as a spirit, I didn’t think Drake could breathe. I figured it was a moot point. Instead, I did as she instructed and started to feel light-headed. The more I breathed in and out, the more light-headed I became until I felt almost delirious.