by T. G. Ayer
The black liquid mingled with the bloody substance of the ward and sizzled and boiled. I held my breath and waited as the energy rose, as if the ward knew it was being penetrated. Then the hum of magic faded away, leaving a simple pentagram drawn on the stone floor. Nathaniel’s charm had worked.
Although I knew the ward was broken, I wasn’t planning on going rushing in. I reached a toe out and touched the outer circle, knowing if the ward had held, it would send me flying through the air like a magical electric shock.
Nothing happened.
I stepped into the inner circle of the pattern, my feet smudging the lines of the pentagram at the center. Still nothing happened and I finally let out the stale breath. Spurred into action at the confirmation of the broken ward, I rushed forward and grabbed Samantha, still swaddled in the coarse blanket. She linked her small hands around my neck and smiled at me.
As I strode out of the circle with her, she said, “Thank you, Miss Morgan.”
Just before I jumped, I said, “My pleasure, Miss Cross. Now hold on tight and don’t let go.”
Chapter 20
Mel
I landed in my kitchen, arms wrapped tightly around Samantha. She looked up at me, her eyes large and round and entirely unafraid. She smiled and her face lit up. My heart clenched. What an adorable kid. But I had no time to fall in love with kids.
A friend’s life needed saving. Stat.
Setting her on the ground, I yelled for Steph. The gray blanket slipped off her shoulders to reveal her stained and rumpled clothing. I frowned. “When was the last time you had a bath, young lady?”
She scrunched her forehead, then shook her head. “Can’t remember. I think it was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” I said, waving my hand in front of my nose. “You stink.”
Samantha giggled, her eyes lighting up again. She glanced at the doorway as Steph came barreling into the room. My geek friend skidded to a halt before us. She smiled at our visitor and said, “Now who is this cute little thing?”
I introduced the two and glanced at Steph. “Can you go grab Samantha some clothes from the store? I’ll take her upstairs and get her all cleaned up.” Then I looked at Samantha and wrinkled my nose. “She smells.” That brought on a fit of giggles and I held my hand out to her.
Metal tinkled as Steph grabbed her keys from the bowl on the kitchen counter. “I’ll go over to Catherine’s Kids and get her a few things.”
I nodded, then flicked my eyebrows at my bag. “Take my card.”
I headed up the stairs as Steph rummaged in my bag. The door slammed seconds later, just as we entered the large airy bathroom. Samantha let go of my hand and stared up at the ceiling, then spun around. “Wow, this is a ginormous bathroom.”
“It is.” I nodded seriously, then turned my attention to the huge claw-footed tub. “Tub’s huge too.”
She squealed and ran to the tub, leaning over into it. “Wow. It’s so big.” Her words echoed inside the empty tub, setting her off into another fit of giggles.
“Yeah, it needs a whole lot of water. You want to turn the taps on and start filling it? I’ll just grab you a towel.” I handed her a bottle of bubble bath.
She bobbed her head and leaned over, twisting the taps open and humming as she poured the soap into the running water. As I fetched the towel, I wondered at her resilience. She’d been kidnapped and kept in a cell for months, yet her personality still made it through. Strong kid.
Back in the bathroom, we waited, splashing at the water as it filled, steam rising and filling the room. “Right, let’s get these stinky things off.”
Samantha toed off her sneakers, then leaned against the tub to remove her socks. She wrinkled her nose and held it away with two fingers before dropping it onto the shoes. I smiled. She was so cute. The other sock gone, she dragged off her shirt and flung it onto the growing pile. I examined her body as she removed the rest of her clothing. My greatest worry was that her abductors had beaten or abused her or worse, but she looked fine—no physical damage that I could see.
I knew I had to ask the hard questions soon, but I wanted to wait until she was more comfortable.
Samantha climbed over the edge of the tub and sat into the water with a plunk. She giggled as clumps of foam rose around her neck. Soon she was content to play with the clouds of bubbles.
“How are you feeling, honey?”
She turned her gaze to me. “I am fine, Miss Morgan. And you don’t have to worry about me. Those horrible people didn’t do anything to me. They wanted me safe and alive so I could be trained to do what they wanted.” I did a double-take, shocked at the mature, serious way she spoke. I’d totally forgotten she could read minds.
Score one for the kid.
“That’s good then.” I hesitated as I poured shampoo into my palm. I spread it on her head and began to scrub as I asked, “Do you have any idea what it is they wanted you to do?” She nodded as I lathered “Their plan was to take me to a party soon. A big party. They said they wanted me to listen to a few people and tell them what those people were thinking.”
“Any idea where this party was or who they wanted you to listen to?” I asked, then instructed her to rinse.
She held on to the sides of the tub and bent her head back, dipping it into the water. I scrubbed her hair, rinsing off the soap. When she sat up, she said, “No. They never mentioned any names to me.” Her mouth turned down. “They treated me like a kid.”
I hid a smile. “That’s not very nice of them. Especially since they wanted you to do stuff for them.” Samantha nodded and her expression cleared. “Right, as soon as Steph gets back with those clothes, we can get you dressed and call your dad to come fetch you.”
“My dad?”
My stomach twisted at her oddly sad expression. “Yes, honey, your dad sent me to find you.”
She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “But my daddy is dead. They told me so.”
“No, honey. He is very much alive and he asked me to find you and bring you home.” I reached out and stroked her now pink cheek. “Those people were evil. They probably wanted to convince you he was dead so you wouldn’t think of home.”
She nodded, then made large circles in the water, tracing deep valleys in the piles of bubbles. She was about to speak when we heard the front door slam again. “That would be Steph with your clothes.” I handed her a sponge and a bar of blue soap. “Here, scrub up. The water’s getting cold.”
She obeyed and I went to the door to wait for Steph. She strode down the passage, a pretty pink and cream striped bag in her hand. She handed me the card. “Jen refused to take it once I explained who the clothing was for.”
I smiled and pocketed my card. “Leave it in the spare room. And Steph, thanks.”
“Hey, I loved it. Haven’t shopped for little girl’s clothes since . . . . Well since I was a little girl.” She giggled, and it was infectious.
I’m I returned to the tub, grabbing the large bath towel. “Right, Stinky. Out you get.” She giggled again and stood up, water draining off her reddened skin. I wrapped her in the towel and carried her out of the tub, setting her down on the lush mat. As I rubbed her dry from head to toe, I sniffed at her cheek. “Okay, maybe I can’t call you stinky anymore. You smell like roses.”
Her grin was wide, revealing her toothless gums. She submitted to the drying then pulled the towel around her as I stood and led her to the room. Steph had laid out a pair of pink jeans patterned with multi-colored glittery splashes. Beside it was a hot pink belt and an equally hot pink t-shirt with the words “Too Kewl for Skewl” on the front. Underwear, socks, headbands and a brush were piled beside it.
“Wow,” Samantha squealed with delight and ran to the bed. Then she turned to me. “Thank you,” she said shyly.
“My pleasure, Samantha.” And it really was a pleasure to see this kid so ecstatic. “You get changed and I will ring your dad. I have to go out for a while, but Steph will get you something to eat.”
She nodded and I left her to change, heading downstairs. I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Martin Cross’s number.
He didn’t greet me. His first words were, “Have you found her?” His voice was breathless and pained, as if afraid to hear my answer.
I kept my tone neutral. “Yes. I have her with me. You can fetch her as soon as you are able. She’s at my place.” I gave him the address.
“How is she? Is she okay? Is she hurt?” The questions came barreling out.
“She’s fine, Mr. Cross. I’ve given her a bath and a change of clothes. She’s about to get something to eat. She’s okay. Doesn’t seem traumatized. But I do want to talk to you when you get here. I’m heading out for a short while but I should be back in a couple of hours. Could you stick around until I get home?”
He sounded hesitant, but said, “Sure. I’ll be there in half an hour, depending on traffic. I’ll see you when you get home.” He rang off, probably thinking I wanted to talk to him about the balance of the fee owed on completion of the job. Didn’t matter to me. As long as I got him here I was happy. I was curious if he knew anything at all about his daughter’s abilities.
My next call was to Chloe but it went straight to voice message. I sent her a text confirming Samantha was with me and could she come as soon as possible. I wanted Chloe here when I told Cross his daughter was a paranormal. She knew how to calm the nerves.
And from past experience I knew there would be plenty of nerves needing calming.
Chapter 21
Mel
I headed to my office to grab some supplies. Once I got to the DeathTalker’s estate, I would need a distraction in case the High Priestess’s library was occupied. Thanks to Drake, we were well-stocked with small explosives and smoke bombs. I could blast a hole through a wall if I wanted to. Just hoped I wouldn’t need to.
Concentrating on the DeathTalker’s estate, I jumped to the grounds a few miles outside of Chicago. I’d considered the best place to jump and figured I was better off arriving among the trees that surrounded the property. Hidden behind a stand of oaks and elms, I readied myself to project into the house.
I’d been there before to discuss Veil transitioning with the last High Priestess. Kira, the current High Priestess, I didn’t know, so I wasn’t about to knock and ask for an appointment.
A magical ward pulsed around the mansion, not unlike the one protecting my own house. Only this one was strong and powerful, and laced with dark magic. They would have to use dark power, considering the type of people who would want to get in.
Like Nathaniel.
I snorted softly and wondered how I was supposed to get past the ward. Light magic wards were easy for me to break through, but dark power was a whole other ballgame. I was stuck on the outside until I could find a way in that didn’t include exploding myself while breaking through a dark magic ward.
I blinked, a vision of my blood dripping into a bowl appearing before my eyes. Dark magic was just what I had with me. In two little vials still tied in my hair. Would it work? And how would I use it to begin with? I had no time to go seeking advice.
I needed to get this done fast and get back home to speak to Cross about his child. For now, I would just have to guess. For a physically drawn spell, I had to remove the drawing. What would I need to do for an ethereal spell like this one?
I removed one of the tubes and held it up in the light. Maybe it was enough to just hold it in my hand and walk through. The spell still had power so I hoped it worked. Circling the property, I looked for a way to get closer to the house that would provide sufficient cover. Just ahead was a line of hedges that ran along a path toward the building. Where it ended at the edge of a stone-floored patio, a row of enormous potted trees took over. I scrambled along the hedges, duck-walking most of the way.
As I reached the patio, I began to feel the energy of the ward strengthen. The difference was the dense darkness seemed to want to swallow me whole. I struggled to breathe, then tried to calm myself down. I had no choice. I had to get in or I might as well say goodbye to Drake.
Not going to happen.
Creeping closer to the ward, I gripped the vial in my palm. My hand shook as I extended it, my fingers almost touching the magical shield.
Then I stopped.
What if it wasn’t enough? For the demon’s spell, I had to pour the blood onto the markings on the floor. Maybe the blood itself needed to go through first. And I didn’t exactly have the means to throw drops of the blood onto the ward. I considered breaking the bottle but wasn’t confident it wouldn’t just shatter into a dozen unusable pieces. The best way was for the blood to be on my body to allow me to pass through. On my skin.
I unscrewed the lid of the bottle and poured some of the blood onto my forefinger until it was coated in the black sludge. I sealed the vial using my other fingers, sticking the pointer digit out, hoping not to drip blood all over myself. Tucking the vial into my jacket pocket, I inched closer to the ward. The energy pulsed, the hair on my cheeks picking up the almost nonexistent movement.
Using my forefinger, I probed for the ward and felt the resistance when my blood-drenched digit touched it. It had the bounce of an invisible balloon but softer, giving off a hum only a few people could feel. I pressed harder and my finger popped through the shield. I winced, expecting the doors to the house to fly open, spilling DeathTalkers all intent on finding who had penetrated their wards.
But nothing happened.
My finger was now on the other side of the shield. I sighed with relief and said a silent prayer as the rest of my hand followed. Still nothing happened. No magical shockwave sent me flying backward. No ethereal alarms were set off. Or at least none I could hear. I relaxed and followed my hand through the ward and onto the patio. Clear of the magical wall, I ran to the end of the patio and ducked down beside another large potted tree.
I leaned against the warm stone wall and concentrated on projecting into Kira’s library. Floor-to-ceiling windows let the daylight into the room and I held my breath in the brightness. The library was still and silent. I was about to jump fully when Kira moved from a shadowy corner and walked into the center of the room, holding open a large book and staring hard at its pages.
Damn. Not what I’d hoped for.
Her attention remained on the book and she seemed not to know I was there. Now I had to find a way to get her out of the room or I was stuck outside without the key. I moved from the library, slid through the wall into the passageway and scanned the ceiling for smoke detectors.
Smoke would do to set the detectors off. And I had come prepared.
I floated along the passage, then poked my head into the next room. More smoke detectors dotted the paneled ceiling of a large sitting room filled with overstuffed chairs that were threadbare, and looked like sitting on them would be dangerous to the chair’s health. The room was close enough and looked like it would serve my purpose.
Without hesitating, I followed my projection and jumped to the center of the room. A glance around me revealed a large glass-fronted cabinet beside the door. Sufficient space to hide on the far side of it. But if the last searchers were too diligent, they would walk in and see me. I couldn’t take that chance. Large purple drapes framed the windows, heavy brocade patterned with garish gold fleur-de-lis. I’d have to make do with hiding behind the hanging fabric.
Rummaging inside my bag, I withdrew two smoke bombs. Then I set the timers for thirty seconds and jumped to the reception hall at the front door. I set one bomb under a gigantic round table bedecked with an arrangement of dry flowers. It sat in the center of the hall and would serve my purpose perfectly. I scanned the hall to ensure it was clear and hurried to set the bomb beside the large triple footed base of the table. Then I jumped straight back into the room beside Kira’s library.
I dropped another bomb beside a sofa, hidden from the doorway, then scurried behind the drapes. From where I hid, I could see the mirror above the ornate stone fireplace. It reflect
ed the doorway, allowing me to see who came and went. I made it just in time.
The timer coughed and with a soft puff, smoke hissed from the contraption, slowly filling the room. I waited for the alarm to kick in, holding my breath from both expectation and the need not to breathe in too much of the smoke. The formula would make my eyes sting and tear and irritate my throat until I coughed continuously.
Seconds later the alarm blared, hurting my ears as the wail rose and fell around the building. A door opened nearby and fabric swished as Kira hurried into the sitting room. I watched her reflection in the mirror as she scanned the room then turned to hurry down the passage. Moments later, I heard her voice echo toward me.
“Move. We need to get outside fast.” Her voice rang cold and unemotional, unperturbed by the possibility of this beautiful building burning up around her.
Satisfied they were gone, I jumped straight into the library. Once I got my footing, I hurried to a low cupboard on the left of the room. The last time I’d been to this library I’d wanted a portal key to make my life easier. My jumps had always been taxing on my strength, and my first year had been peppered with nosebleeds, extreme dizziness and blinding headaches when I did multiple jumps in a day. Even now, I kept my jumping for emergencies.
I opened the cupboard and found shelves filled with metal keys, all blank and waiting to be programmed to individual users. Talia, the last High Priestess, had summoned a junior to assist, and the younger DeathTalker had fetched a blank key from this very cupboard. Only in the end, Talia had refused my request when she learned I already had the ability to move through the Veil on my own.
Her advice was to practice and become stronger and to leave the portal keys to those not blessed with my ability. I sniffed at the memory as I pulled out three keys and tucked them into my bag. Then I jumped straight to Nathaniel’s front porch and sighed with relief.
