Drake Sisters 02 - The Twilight Before Christmas

needed the modern-day women to work their magic, to remove the fog so he had a semblance of a chance to save his brother and Tommy and to get Jackson and Pete to safety.
    “Come on, baby,” he whispered, hoping the swirling clouds would take his voice to her. “Do this for me. Clear this mess out of here.”
    As if they could hear his words, the seven Drake sisters moved together out onto the battlement and faced the sea. Libby and Sarah both had their arms wrapped around El e to aid her as they stood in the midst of the swirling fog.
    Sarah looked up at the sky, to the roiling clouds gathered over Sea Haven and back to her sisters. “This troubled spirit is in terrible pain and does not believe there can be forgiveness for his mistake. He cannot forgive himself for what he believes to be bad judgment. I am certain his motive was to save others his sorrow. He believes that by halting the pageant, history wil not repeat itself. He has lived this unbelievable nightmare repeatedly and needs to be able to forgive himself and go to his rest.” She looked at Kate. “Your gift has always been your voice, Kate. I think the journal is referring to you. One born who can bring peace.”
    Kate could think only of Matt, somewhere out in the fog. She didn’t want to be up on the captain’s walk facing another struggle, she wanted to be with him. It was the first time in her life she had ever felt so divided around her sisters. She knew at that moment that she belonged with Matthew Granite. It didn’t matter that she was an observer and he was a doer, she loved him, and she belonged with him.
    As if reading her mind, Hannah took her hand, squeezed it tightly. “He’s counting on you to do this, Kate. He’s counting on al of us.”
    Kate took a steadying breath and nodded. She stepped away from Hannah, knowing Hannah would need room. Facing the smal town invaded with the fog, Kate began to chant softly. An inquiry, no more, a soft plea to be heard. Her voice was carried on the smal est of breezes as Hannah faced the sea and lifted her arms, directing the wind as she might an orchestra.
    Behind Kate, Joley and Abbey began to sing, a soft melody of love and peace, harmonizing with Kate’s incredible voice so they produced a symphony of hope. Power began to build in the wind itself, in the sky overhead. Lightning forked in the spinning clouds. Kate spoke of forgiveness, of unconditional love. Of a love of family that transcended time. She beckoned and cajoled. She pleaded for a hearing.
    “You’ve touched him,” El e reported. “He’s fighting the cal . He’s determined to keep the accident from happening. There is no past life or future life as he understands it, only watching his wife and child die a horrible death over and over, year after year.” She staggered under the burden of the man’s guilt, of his loss.
    Kate didn’t falter. Matt was out there somewhere in the fog, and she felt him reaching for her, counting on her. And she knew he was in danger.
    She talked of the townspeople coming together with every belief represented. Of the elderly and the young given the same respect. She spoke of a place that was a true haven for tolerance. And she spoke of forgiveness. Of letting go.
    Power spread with the building wind. The ocean leaped in response. A pod of whales surfaced, flipping their tails, almost in unison, as if creating a giant fan. Joley’s voice, a sultry purity that couldn’t be ignored, swel ed in volume, taking over the lead, while Abbey’s voice joined in perfect harmony.

    Hannah’s voice cal ed on the elements she knew and loved. Earth. Wind. Fire. Rain. Lightning flashed. The wind blew. Rain poured from the clouds. And stil the power continued to build. Her hands moved in a graceful pattern as if conducting a symphony of magic.
    Kate lured the spirit to her with promises of peace. Rest. A family waiting with open arms, holding him dear, not placing blame. An accident, not the hand of an ancient god angry that he had al owed his loved ones to participate in something different. Simply an unfortunate accident. Joley sang of Christmas, past, present, and future. Of a town committed to al the members celebrating together in a variety of ways. Of festivals for ancient gods and a gala for those who didn’t believe. The two voices blended, one in song, one in storytel ing, weaving a seamless creation to draw the lost soul back home.
    Abbey lifted her voice final y, a cal for those lost to