Melissa pulled her car into the driveway of the ancient-looking house. Storm clouds had gathered overhead, almost as if conspiring to block morning from coming to this desolate place. As she and Marinda walked to the front door, thunder rumbled in the distance. But to Melissa, it didn't sound like thunder at all but more like the menacing growl of some cosmic cur, warning them away.

She hesitated. Marinda closed a hand on her arm. "There's no such thing as a deity of absolute evil," she whispered, her voice close to Melissa's ear. "There's only energy. Victor has mastered his ability to tap into it, but the choice to use it for evil was all his. He was just a man, Melissa. Only a mortal man."

Melissa nodded.

"Center yourself, Witchling. We can tap into the same source, the same energy, and direct it against him. His spirit is working against nature. Nature's on our side."

Nodding, Melissa closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, curled her toes inside her shoes as she let the mighty force of the planet, the Mother, flow up and into her. She tipped her head back and opened her eyes, letting the endless energy of the Sky, the Father, pour down into her. She even tapped the power of the storm, and knew, when the wind whipped harder against her face and the lightning flashed, that it was real.

The power of the universe was real, and she was a part of it and a conduit for it.

Lowering her head, she stared at the house. "I'm ready."

The two of them marched side by side up the front stairs, to the door. Melissa was surprised to find it unlocked. She opened it and stepped inside. But she saw no one. The house was silent and brooding, and it felt abandoned.

"Victor's temple room is in the basement," Marinda said.

"How do you know?"

"My daughter lived here, for a time. She told me many things. This way, come on."

She led the way through the massive house, and Melissa followed, struggling to hold on to her connection with the Source of all power. They came to a door, which hung open, went through it and down a steep, long set of stairs into the bowels of the place. It was eerily lit with red-globed bulbs, and the energy that filled it was toxic. Melissa felt it around her, prickling her skin and raising goose bumps on her arms. Marinda never hesitated. She walked through the basement and up to a large door, carved all from one slab of wood. She tried the knob, careful not to make a sound as she twisted.

"Locked," she said.

"Wait." Melissa dug in her bag, pulled out a long, heavy hairpin. "I expected the place to be locked. I'll try to get it open." Marinda moved aside just slightly, and Melissa inserted the pin into the keyhole, twisting, feeling, willing the lock to open.

Marinda pulled something from her pocket, a dry brown flower on a tall, nearly leafless stem. "Maybe this will help." She held the blossom against the lock.

Immediately Melissa felt the tumblers turn against her hairpin and knew the lock had opened. Whether due to her own efforts or the other woman's weed, she couldn't be sure.

Marinda whispered, "Chicory cut with blade of gold, midnight or midday at the height of Sol, clears the pathway to your goal, against it no man's locks will hold." She shrugged. "Hold on to the stem, dear. Folklore claims it grants invisibility as well."

Melissa dropped her hairpin back into her bag and closed a hand around the bottom of the stem the other woman held. "Hell, it can't hurt."

Melissa turned the knob and pushed the door open. The scene laid out within the circle of dancing black candles in the room she entered shocked her right to the core. Alex was on a stone table, chains on his arms and legs, his chest covered in blood that ran in rivulets down his sides. A tube in his arm ran with more blood that was collecting in a pail on the floor.

"Alex, my God!" She let go of the weed and ran to his side, yanking the needle from his wrist and closing her hand over the wound, to halt the blood flow.

"So you've arrived," a woman said.

Melissa jerked her head up sharply, so focused on Alex that she hadn't even noticed the woman standing in the circle. She wore a hooded robe that shadowed her face, and stood between the table on which Alex lay and a machine of some kind.

"You broke the circle," she whispered. "But it's not going to matter." The woman lifted a dagger and came slowly toward Melissa. "Back away from him. Now."

Melissa looked down, and her stomach convulsed when she saw the amount of Alex's blood in the pail. She clenched his wrist tighter, refusing to let go. "You can't kill us all."

The woman looked up, surprised, and only then did she seem to notice that Melissa hadn't come alone. Marinda stepped out of the shadows, into the light cast by the dancing flames of the candles.

"You," Elizabeth said, her voice louder than before.

"That's right, Elizabeth." Then she looked around the room. "Do you hear that, Victor? I'm not going to let you murder my grandson the way you did his mother. What kind of spell did you use to make her jump off that bridge?"

Elizabeth smiled slowly. "Oh, it was nothing so complicated for a man of Victor's power, Witch. A mind control spell, some posthypnotic suggestion, and it was done."

She moved toward Melissa again. Melissa flung up a hand, projecting all the energy she could muster. "Halt, damn you!"

Again the woman stopped.

Melissa focused on Alex then. "Mother Earth, goddess strong, stop this blood by witches' song. Mother Earth, goddess strong, stop this blood by Witches' song. Mother Earth..."

Marinda joined in the chant, coming closer, standing right at her side, placing her hand over Melissa's. Melissa felt the wound tingling against her palm.

"Stop it! Dammit, stop right now!" Elizabeth cried. She raced forward again, swinging her blade at Melissa.

Marinda yanked Melissa aside, pulling her hand from Alex's wrist as she did. The blade hissed by, doing no damage. And as Melissa stumbled, regained her balance, and glanced back at the wrist, she saw no further bleeding. Either the charm had worked or Alex was already dead.

Elizabeth stood crouched, blade aloft, ready to attack. But there was something beside her. Some dark, shapeless form that pulsed with evil.

"He's here," Marinda whispered, leaning close. "Open the Western Gate, Melissa. We have to send Victor back through, it's the only way to end this."

Melissa nodded, but she didn't want to leave Marinda's side with this mad knife-wielding woman so close by.

"Go!"

Melissa went. Elizabeth moved to come for her, but Marinda was ready. She snatched the bag from Melissa's shoulder and swung it, catching the other woman upside the head and knocking her to her knees. The dagger clattered to the floor as Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, and then the two women were locked in a struggle, hitting, punching, clawing each other. Melissa knew Marinda had a blade of her own, but she would never use it. Not to do violence.

Melissa located the western point, partly by instinct and partly by the symbols inscribed on the floor in red paint and the large bowl of water that stood at the circle's edge. She stood with her back to the life-and-death struggle, to Alex, and it took all her willpower to do that. Every part of her practical, mortal mind was telling her to turn, to fight, to drag Alex out of here. But the Witch in her, that impractical, intuitive part, knew this was far bigger than a physical battle, and told her to do what had to be done.

She focused, centered, envisioned the great pouring sea, the womb of the Earth mother, the place of transformation, the gateway between the worlds. When she saw it so clearly that she could feel the spray and hear the crashing waves, she pushed her arms straight out in front of her, then slowly opened them wide, parting the mystical waters.

"Guardians of the Western Gate, open the portals wide! Beloved ancestors, come, come, come to us now! Come to gather the soul that awaits its rest. Come to gather the wounded heart of this lonely spirit, whose time on this plane has passed!"

She paused, waiting. She could still hear movement behind her, the grunts of pain, the impacts of hands on flesh. And another voice, a dark voice, Victor's voice, moaning, "No. No, God, no!"

"Sisters of the Moerae, Weavers of the Web of Fate, come! Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, come!" Melissa cried, her voice gaining strength and volume. "Bring with you the Keres! The hounds of the Underworld! Two men lie at your feet. Two souls hover between the worlds. You alone know which is meant to pass at this time and which is destined to live on in the mortal realm. Come, Sisters! Weave the thread of life into the web of your grand design. Come!"

Melissa paused only long enough to draw a ragged breath, then went on, not even thinking about her words. They came from somewhere deep within her. "Hecate! Lady of the Crossroads!" Melissa was shouting now, and her voice filled the room and reverberated from the walls. "Come, triple goddess! Claim the soul that is your own and spare the innocent from further harm!"

Melissa was jarred from her state of intense focus by a blast of wind and a crashing sound. The pot of water that had been sitting at the western edge of the circle lay on its side, its contents flowing over the floor. She hadn't touched it; she was sure no one else had, either. It was a moment before she realized the water was flowing toward the center of the circle, and she turned to see it racing toward the table where Alex lay, the dark shape hovering closely over him.

Above the water there was a blur of white. Or was it a trick of her eyes and the candles?

Elizabeth broke away from where she was locked in physical combat with Marinda and ran to Alex's side. Her feet slapped down into the stream of water, and it splashed up and into that dark form.

And at that very instant, the dark form vanished.

Marinda looked up from the floor, her face cut and bleeding in places and bearing angry red handprints in others. Her hair was a wild tangle. Elizabeth was babbling now, weeping, shaking Alex's body as if trying to wake him. "Victor? Are you there? Did you make it?"

Melissa hurried to help Marinda to her feet. "It's over, now, Elizabeth," she whispered. "It's done. Victor's gone."

"No!" the nurse cried. "I only have to wake him in his new body."

Melissa snapped her head around. The woman had grabbed the defibrillator machine's paddles and hit its power buttons.

"He has to be all right! He has to." She leaned over Alex, even as Melissa lunged forward. "Come back to me, Victor!" Elizabeth cried, lowering the paddles.

"No! Wait!" Melissa hit Elizabeth hard, knocking her away from Alex just as she hit the buttons. Elizabeth stumbled, the paddles turning and touching her own body. A charge of electricity surged from the paddles into the woman who held them and who was standing with her feet in a puddle of water. She spasmed there for an instant, like a marionette on quivering strings, and then collapsed to the floor, dropping the paddles.

Melissa hurried to her side, bent over her, checked her pulse. There was nothing. Her hair was smoking. So was the machine. Melissa lifted her gaze to Marinda, automatically seeking the older woman's wisdom.

Marinda shook her head. "The Fates wanted her. They took her. Let her go." Then she looked past Melissa and smiled. "And my grandson is awake."

Melissa ran to Alex, lifting his head, running her hands through his hair, kissing his face. "You're all right. Oh, God, you're all right."

He tried to embrace her, only to find his arms couldn't reach, because of the chains. "Melissa, Elizabeth was... she tried to - "

"I know. It's all right now. It's over." She leaned in, pressed her lips to his, felt the life in him, strong and steady.

"Close the gate, young Priestess," Marinda said, coming to join her at Alex's side. "You've done well today."

Alex was struggling to sit up. His grandmother helped him, freeing him from the manacles and whispering to him to wait, to be still for just a moment. Then he sat there in silence, watching as Melissa turned slowly away, facing west. She pictured that sea again, saw herself on its shore, opened her arms wide.

Then she paused, because she saw... something. That woman, that same woman she'd seen before. Jennifer, standing on the shore. Melissa turned quickly to see if the others saw her, too. From their stunned expressions she knew they did.

"Jennifer?" Marinda whispered.

Alex said, "What... who... what am I seeing?"

"That's my daughter, Alex," Marinda said gently. "Your mother."

"My mother?"

The apparition seemed to smile. Melissa heard, not out loud but in her mind, Jennifer's voice. Her message.

Thank you, Melissa. Thank you for saving my son. Thank you, dear Mother, for helping her.

The rest seemed to be addressed to Alex: Don't worry about Victor, my darling child. This is a place of healing and transformation, not punishment. Now, for the three of you, I have only one request. Love one another, as I love you all.

And then she faded, growing smaller and vanishing altogether.

Tears flooding her eyes, Melissa opened her arms again. "Thank you, Jennifer, for bringing us together, for giving your own life to save that of your son. We love you and we will forever honor your memory." The tears spilled over. "Thank you, Hecate, goddess of the crossroads. Thank you, Sisters of Fate, Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos. Hail and farewell."

"Hail and farewell," Marinda echoed.

"Good-bye, Mother," Alex whispered.

Melissa drew her arms down and together, closing the veil between the worlds. Then she turned and went to Alex.

He was pale, none too steady, as she and Marinda helped him down from the table. "Alex, this is Marinda Simone. She's your grandmother."

He smiled weakly at the older woman. "Hello, Grandmother."

"Hello, Alex." She leaned close, kissed his cheek. Then she sighed, all business. "There's no reason to open up your father's private life and all his mistakes to public scrutiny. I'll ground the circle energy. Then we'll clean up down here and move the body upstairs. We can throw a hair dryer into the bathtub with poor Elizabeth. The world can believe her death was accidental electrocution. It's close enough to the truth."

"But what about Alex?" Melissa asked. "He needs a hospital."

"No." Alex touched her face with his palm. "Look at the pail. I can't be more than a couple of pints low. The cuts on my chest are shallow. I'll be fine."

She stared at him and she imagined her heart was in her eyes, but she didn't care. "Are you really all right?"

He leaned closer, kissed her mouth, and probably tasted the salt of her tears, she thought, as she clung to him. When he lifted his head, he said, "I'm all right. From now on, everything is going to be all right."

Alex let Melissa pull his arm around her shoulders, but he refused to lean on her as she led him through the darkness of the great below, up the stairs, and into the great above. The sun was streaming through the windows now, and the house seemed almost... cheerful.

He sat in a chair and allowed Melissa to wash the blood from his chest and his sides, while his grandmother was in the kitchen, brewing what she called a healing tea.

"What did that insane woman cut into my chest?" he asked Melissa as she ran the cloth over the shallow wounds. It stung, but he didn't care.

"Victor's name, in Theban script." She applied salve she'd found in the medicine cabinet, then wrapped his chest in soft gauze and taped it in place. "He thought he could steal your body, basically make himself live again."

"I know. Elizabeth said as much while she was carving me up." Melissa had a clean shirt in her hands, taken from Alex's room upstairs, but she paused now, staring at him with her huge, beautiful eyes. "Do you think that it's possible this thing could have worked?" she asked.

"I don't know. I just... I don't know. I think he's been - haunting me sort of. Maybe preparing for this. I've felt him in my head more than once - but not anymore." He shook his head.

"I suppose just about anything is possible," she said.

He reached out, took the shirt from her, and set it aside. Then he took her hands in his. "What about forgiving me, for being such a stubborn idiot about all of this and nearly getting you killed? Do you think that's possible?"

Her eyes seemed to search his - and he felt to his core they were doing exactly that. Searching for some reassurance that he hadn't absorbed his father's twisted values and negativity.

Licking his lips, knowing what he had to do, he got to his feet. "You sit. I want to tell you some things I figured out while I was lying down there being drained into a mop bucket."

She did as he said, but she never took those potent, all-seeing eyes from his. God, he loved her. He'd loved her from the second he'd set eyes on her, he thought. She sat in the overstuffed chair, but only after pulling another one closer, so he could sit facing her.

She knew he was still weak and dizzy. She seemed to know more about him than he did, most of the time. She had from the start.

He sat in the chair facing hers and took her hands in his. "I realized down there, when I was pretty sure I was going to die, that you were right. He's built up a lot of negativity, or bad karma, or whatever you want to call it. I figure, since I lived through all of this, I have the opportunity to make things right. Take that negative energy and redirect it into something positive."

"Really? How are you going to do that, Alex?"

"For starters, I'm going to sell this house and everything in it and give the money to St. Luke's School for Boys."

She smiled a little. He liked that, knew he was on the right track.

"Do you think you have to do that for me, Alex? Because you don't, you know. I've been falling in love with you since the first time you said my name. That's not going to change."

He smiled fully. "You think I haven't figured that out already? Hell, woman, you came charging in here unarmed and laid your life on the line for me. I kind of guessed that might mean you cared."

"Not overconfident or anything, are you?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"Not even close." He got to his feet, tugged her to hers. "Melissa, you are - you're good. You're so good that I feel like I want to be better. I want to be the kind of man who's worthy of loving a woman like you." He slid his arms around her waist, pulled her close to him.

"You already are, Alex," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "I promise, you already are."

EPILOGUE

"Shhhh!" Melissa hissed. "It's starting!"

She sat in the arms of her husband, in front of the television in the living room of their beach house. There were people all around them. Bowls of popcorn, open pizza boxes, and lots of icy soft drinks covered every surface. The director was there, along with the two beautiful starlets and the new head writer, a woman who was a practicing Witch herself. Marinda was there as well, beaming with approval at her grandson and his wife and hinting about the greatgrandchildren she hoped wouldn't be too far away.

The season finale of The Enchantress began with the Witch as a guest at an authentic Wiccan wedding, with the bride and groom being played by none other than the creative consultant and the show's producer/creator.

The ceremony was built around Melissa and Alex's actual wedding, held in a grove of oaks, the guests forming a circle around them. Every flower and color and gift had a special spiritual significance, and the officiating minister was a Wiccan High Priestess by the name of Marinda Simone.

Of course, in the script the ceremony was interrupted by some ill-intentioned demon and the Enchantress was forced to vanquish him, but at least she didn't accomplish that by a deadpan recitation of a rhyming couplet from a book. Thanks to the new writing team, the poor, overworked Witch was forced to do research, determine the best astrological timing, find and gather appropriate herbs, stones, and candles, call on the Divine, and channel her power from the elements of Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Also thanks to the new writing team, the show's ratings had climbed through the roof. Every episode dropped a tiny bit of Witchlore or ancient wisdom, all wrapped up in a damn good story, and the viewers couldn't get enough.

When the credits rolled and everyone inside was celebrating, high-fiving each other, cracking a few beers, Alex took Melissa's hand and tugged her with him, through the sliding doors, and down onto their special place on the beach.

"I need you with me for this," he told her. Then he pulled something from his pocket: the gold pentacle that had belonged to his father.

"Alex?" She searched his eyes. "Honey, I thought we were going to keep that put away?"

He nodded. "We were. But I don't think keeping it in a locked box in the back of the closet is really good enough. Not even after all the cleansing you've done on it. I think... I think it's time to let it go."

"But it's the only thing you have left of your father."

He shook his head. "No. I've only just begun to realize all the other things he left me. Because of him, I found you. And Grams. And my mother. My family. I have all of that. I don't need a hunk of metal. Besides, I think it makes a great offering of thanks."

She smiled. "And just what are you giving thanks for?"

"Everything I just mentioned. Plus the success the show is enjoying. And most of all, for the little one that's going to be coming into our lives pretty soon."

She frowned. "Honey, I'm not - "

"Yes, you are. Have been, since that first night on the beach."

"How do you know?"

He smiled down at her. "My mother told me, in a dream last night. It will be a little girl, and we'll name her Jennifer." He pulled her close and kissed her. Then he turned to face the sea and hurled the pendant as hard as he could.

It splashed into the water, just as the sun went down. Melissa closed her eyes and whispered, "So mote it be."