Reach For Me

by Elizabeth Cole

  It was gorgeous, and she didn’t even see it.

  Cara couldn’t believe the crap Mal just laid on her. All that crap about her finding a nice guy and settling down…when had Cara ever put out that vibe? She didn’t want a nice guy. She wanted Mal, who she’d actually thought was a nice guy under all his swagger. Until twenty minutes ago.

  Turned out, he was as shallow as she initially thought that very first day she met him. And this BS about being concerned for her future. He was just trying to cover up the fact that he’d finally realized that if Cara hung around, he’d eventually be seen with her. And that was extra baggage no guy wanted, no matter how “nice” he was.

  I’m an idiot, she thought. A totally gullible idiot.

  She’d gone along for the ride the Salems offered, accepting the unbelievable stories and the mad logic of their demon-hunting, and why? Because she saw a ghost? Well, one thing could be real without all their demonology being true too. Or maybe it was all because Mal turned her completely around until she didn’t know which way was up and couldn’t make a decision for herself anymore.

  Well, that idiocy was ending right now. Cara was perfectly capable of deciding her fate. And her fate had to be somewhere other than October County, Ohio, with its haunted houses, shifty neighbors, and hot-but-regrettable hookups.

  Her feet led her up the hill to Egan House, where she could be alone for half a moment to think things over.

  If she didn’t finish the floor, then nothing could happen with this magical gate. Right? Nothing good, nothing bad. Cara felt a sting of fear as she contemplated the fallout from upsetting a client. But then again, she was the one with skills. She could get other jobs anywhere in the country. Maybe not the jobs she truly wanted, but enough to pay the bills. She had a portfolio, she had a background. Morningside could make a fuss about his contract, but Cara had it up to here with the weirdness surrounding this job.

  She stood on the porch, trying to decide whether to go inside or just call for a ride and get out of this town. Impulsively, she took out her phone and called her mom, who answered on the second ring.

  “Sweetie? Is something the matter?”

  “No, of course not,” Cara lied. “I was just thinking I need a little vacation.”

  “Why not fly home for a week?” her mom suggested instantly. “You can relax and we can do a little shopping and maybe a girls’ day out?” The yearning in her tone made Cara realize just how much her mother was suffering too. When her husband went to prison, her whole life had fallen apart. Cara had been able to run away, but her mom didn’t have the same options.

  “That’d be nice, actually,” Cara said. She’d prefer to be anywhere but here. “I’m going to look at flights and then I’ll call you back, ok?”

  “Sounds perfect, sweetheart. Love you!”

  Cara slid the phone back in her pocket. There. See, she’d made a decision. Maybe not a great one, but one that would get her out of the current awkward mess and give her time to decide what to do next.

  But first, there were a few things that Cara couldn’t leave behind. Her set of tools that her dad had given her, for one. They might be old-school, not the most technologically advanced items in her shop. But they were hers, and she wasn’t going to risk them going missing.

  She hit the lights on and made her way to the parlor. The equipment was all laid out in the corner of the room, awaiting her. She picked up the chisel first, feeling the familiar weight of it in the palm of her hand. She looked for the duffel bag, thinking she’d pack up the most important items here, grab Pumpkin, and get a ride into town to pick up her own car. Maybe she’d even stay a night at the Calendar Inn before driving to the airport. She needed to look at flights…

  “Miss Michaels.” Smooth as it was, the voice startled her.

  “Wow,” she yelped, turning to see Morningside standing there in the doorway. “You scared me!”

  “Apologies.”

  “What are you doing here?” She still held the chisel, and suddenly didn’t want to release it.

  “I was hoping to get the latest details on your restoration. My client is arriving in town in a few days, and he’s most eager to see the results. Looks like you’re almost there,” he added with a not-quite-sincere smile.

  “Yeah, it’s close,” she said. “But it’s funny that you’re here, because I was actually going to call you to let you know I need to leave for a while.”

  The smile evaporated. “Excuse me?”

  “Family emergency. Need to be with my mom.”

  “Surely you can complete the floor first.”

  “Uh, that’s not how emergencies work.”

  Morningside’s expression went frosty. “The contract was quite clear…”

  “Shut up about your stupid contract! I need a few days, ok? Is the world going to end if I don’t do this by Halloween?”

  He held utterly still, and Cara wondered if she’d inadvertently said something revealing by dropping the word Halloween.

  “Cara Ann Michaels,” he said quietly, pointing at her with one long finger. “You will do what I say, and you will never speak back to me or disobey.”

  She opened her mouth, but didn’t reply, because she wasn’t an indentured servant, or a robot.

  He smiled again, and this time it was nasty. “Now, get to work. The summoning circle must be ready.”

  “No way.”

  Morningside’s eyes widened at her refusal. “What did you say?”

  “I said no. It’s the opposite of yes.” Did everyone around here need this lesson?

  Before she could do anything else, Morningside growled. An actual growl.

  She blinked and saw that his face was changing. The polished lawyer look faded, and in its place was something more brutal, more feral…more fanged. The air suddenly smelled like smoke.

  Not good.

  Pure, gut-chilling terror rolled over her body. Cara reached for the chain around her neck. Please let magic be as real as vampires and ghosts.

  He moved toward her, and even though he got within range for her to smell his breath, she couldn’t quite see well any longer. Maybe she was starting to faint.

  “You know, my dear, that after I bite you, you’ll want to do everything I say. You’ll be happy to work through the night, without sleeping, without eating, without any thought at all but pleasing me. And if you’re very good and finish what you started, I’ll give you a taste of pleasure before the end.”

  “Ew.” Double ew.

  Morningside grabbed at the chain, but pulled back, repelled by the crucifix. “A worthy spell,” he muttered. “Well, there are other ways to control you. I’ll keep you in your own little hell until you see reason.”

  He shoved her down, right into the middle of the unfinished summoning circle. The air was distinctly hazy now, and Cara shook her head to clear her vision before she began to clamber to her feet.

  But then Morningside stepped backward and raised both arms. He spoke in a language Cara never heard before and hoped to never hear again. A spitting, slimy set of words all winding around her like snakes.

  She caught a few familiar sounds in the tangle: Cara Ann Michaels. Then she felt a slight buzzing in her bones, like someone was holding her tightly, too tightly.

  I am sorry, the words floated into her head. But this is the only way.

  And then Cara was swept into a world of fire.

  Chapter 26

  Mal knew Cara was pissed. She very likely wasn’t going to speak to him ever again. Not after the shit he’d said. But hopefully she’d be pissed enough to leave as soon as the floor was done. And then she’d at least be safe.

  Not surprisingly, she didn’t return to the Salem house after she took off post-fight. Lex and Dom both asked where she’d gone, and Mal shrugged a response.

  “Wow, you truly suck at any relationship longer than a week,” Dom said in wonderment. “So Cara was the same as all the others?”

  “No. But it doesn’t matter anyway.�
� If everything went according to plan, in a couple of days Mal wouldn’t be alive enough to care about his past mistakes.

  He almost texted Cara about twenty times. But he never knew what to say, so he just deleted each message and sent nothing.

  She didn’t send anything either. Not a shocker.

  The next morning, when he got dressed for work, he mentally prepped himself to get the icy death glare. He’d endure that. He’d really hurt her feelings. Just because it was for a good cause didn’t make it not mean.

  But he didn’t get the death glare, because Cara wasn’t on site.

  Dan stood on the porch, looking confused. “Did you hear from Cara?” he asked as soon as Mal reached him. “She’s always first. And I don’t have keys to the house.”

  “Is there a spare set in the office?” Mal asked.

  “Yeah, but the office door is locked too. Natch.”

  Maybe because Cara was sleeping in there. Mal peered in the windows of the trailer. It was totally empty. He rattled the doorknob. Locked.

  He glanced behind him. Dan had wandered back over to his car, not paying attention. Mal took a breath and sidestepped into the otherworlds, just a few feet, and back into the real world, inside the office. He unlocked the door from the inside, and then looked for the spare set of keys.

  He found a keyring in the desk drawer. Straightening up, he noticed Cara’s sleeping bag, tightly rolled, shoved into a corner. He’d seen her put it there the night he insisted she stay at the Salem house. It didn’t look like it had been used since then.

  She must have gone back to her room at the Calendar Inn, he reasoned. And she slept in a bit today. That was a perfectly rational explanation.

  He returned to the house and unlocked the door.

  “How’d you get into the office?” Dan asked, surprised. “It was locked!”

  “I managed.” He handed the keys to Dan. “You’re in charge, man. At least till the boss shows up.”

  “Five minutes,” Dan guessed. “She’s never late.”

  But she was. Even after all the rest of the crew showed, Cara was still missing. Looking uneasy, Dan assigned everyone to tasks, and they went to work like it was an ordinary day.

  The mood was off for everyone. Mal saw Dan fiddling with his phone more than once, and he guessed that Cara wasn’t responding to Dan’s texts, which was more concerning than her just ignoring Mal.

  Hoping to get some sort of idea about Cara’s plans, Mal entered the parlor room, checking out the floor. It looked a little more done, though he couldn’t remember precisely how far along it was last week. Cara must have come after their fight to work on it.

  But there was no sign of her now.

  He spotted a duffel bag near Cara’s craft table. Had she already started packing to leave? He opened the bag and saw the old-school tools she used for her detail work, the ones she’d said once belonged to her dad. They were thrust haphazardly into the bag, as if she’d been in a hurry. But then why were they still here? And where did Cara get to?

  He called Thalia at the Calendar Inn.

  “Hey there, Mal,” Thalia chirped. “What’s up?”

  “Thalia, I need to talk with Cara Michaels. Can you call her room and ask her?”

  The other end went silent for a moment. “I, uh, can’t do that.”

  “Look, I know that you can. She’s not answering my calls, and it’s actually really important. It’s about her job site, ok?”

  “No, I mean I can’t do that because she’s not here. I haven’t seen her since the night you came by.”

  “You mean she just packed up and left?”

  “Well, no,” Thalia said, sounding more distressed now. “Her car is still parked out front, and she didn’t check out. But she’s not here. I knocked this morning because I wanted to be sure she was all right, and there was no answer. I finally used the master key to open the door—like what if she was sick or something? But the room was empty, except that her stuff is all still there.”

  “That’s not good,” said Mal.

  “I thought she was staying with you,” Thalia said almost accusingly.

  “She was, but she’s not now. Give me a call if she shows up, ok?”

  “That’s not exactly kosher, Mal. Like what if you’re a stalker?”

  “If I were a stalker, I’d freaking know where she was, wouldn’t I?” he snapped. “Instead, I’m calling around every place in town to find her, and it’s not looking good.”

  “Ok, ok, I’ll text you if I see her.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I hope everything’s ok,” Thalia said quietly.

  “Me too.” But he wasn’t optimistic.

  He found Dan not long after. “No word from Cara?” he asked, no longer bothering to pretend like he didn’t have a personal interest in this.

  “Nothing,” Dan said with a frown. “I even called Morningside—found his number in the office. He was busy, but the secretary said everything’s still on schedule.”

  “How can we be on schedule if Cara’s not here? She’s the only person who can finish up the floor, and all the detail work.”

  “Well, maybe it’s just a blip,” Dan said. “She could be back tomorrow and we’re all worrying for nothing.”

  When he got home that afternoon, Pumpkin mewed at him. Mal picked the kitten up. “Did Cara leave you behind?”

  The kitten didn’t answer, but Behemoth did.

  I find it difficult to believe she would abandon the little one.

  Mal did too. “But then where is she?”

  He told his brothers the news. “No one has seen Cara since she left here. None of the work crew got any message, not even Dan, who’s basically second in charge. She never went back to the inn, and her car is still there, so she didn’t leave town either. Her cat is still here, her tools are still here, but she’s not.”

  Mal took a breath before saying what was now completely obvious: “She’s not anywhere.”

  * * * *

  Cara was definitely somewhere, she just wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. She must have fallen asleep, because she woke up from a horrible nightmare of a massive wall of flames and smoke engulfing her. She found herself lying on the floor of the parlor room where she’d been when Morningside surprised her.

  She shivered, thinking of her dream again. She’d seen Morningside turn into a monster—a vampire complete with fangs. And she dreamed he cast a spell on her, which…vampires didn’t do that sort of thing, right? They just bit people. But Morningside didn’t bite Cara. He said he was going to hide her. Or something.

  He thinks he’s got a use for me.

  Or she hallucinated it all. Cara looked around the parlor room, wondering just how long it had been since she lost consciousness. Where was Morningside? Surely he wouldn’t have just left her there, evil or not. And why would she have fallen asleep right here? Or did she hit her head?

  The room was even more shadowy than usual, meaning it must be nighttime still…or again? How long had she been out?

  She pulled out her phone and found that it wouldn’t even turn on. The battery must be completely dead.

  Luckily, there was a charging cord near her supplies. Cara crawled over to the wall outlet, her head pounding—lord, she needed either coffee or a solid night’s rest—and plugged the phone in.

  Nothing. Not even a blink.

  Frowning, she flipped the switch on a nearby work light, hoping to illuminate the space.

  Nothing.

  “The power went out again?” she muttered.

  If there was no power, where was the light coming from? Cara looked up and noticed the room had a strange glow, like the air itself was luminescent. Weird.

  She went back to the craft table, hoping to find a flashlight or something else useful. Her hand rested on the electric drill for a moment. She lifted it, slid the battery pack in, and hit the switch.

  Nothing.

  Well, this was wrong. The battery pack was fully charged, and th
e drill should work. Then Cara squinted at the label on the drill. It was Milwaukee brand, but the word emblazoned in red on the side of the drill was backward.

  Why was the text backward?

  This was either an epic-level prank, or something was much more wrong than she thought.

  “Do I have a concussion?” she asked out loud.

  “What’s a concussion?”

  At the sound of the voice, Cara spun around, holding the drill like a gun.

  Marigold stood there, looking extremely serious, and also extremely solid. More like a real person than a ghost.

  “What’s happening?” Cara demanded. “Why do things look weird and the power doesn’t work?”

  “You’re not where you were,” Marigold said. “I’m sorry, but I had to do it, or else Morningside would have completed his spell and that would have been very bad for you.”

  “He really did cast a spell? I thought that was a nightmare.”

  “Oh, yes. He used your true name and everything. Don’t you remember?”

  “He doesn’t know my true name,” Cara said absently. “He’s using a fake name I gave him.”

  Marigold’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re so smart!”

  No, she was not. If Cara were smart, she’d be a thousand miles away from this nonsense.

  “That must be why his spells didn’t take hold of you. I thought it was just the protection you wear.”

  “Protection?”

  Marigold pointed to Mal’s necklace. “That. I can feel the power in it. Not enough to keep a monster like Morningside away, but a worthy charm all the same.”

  “What did happen? Because he was yelling, and then things went dark, but then there was fire…”

  “Yes. He was trying to imprison you, and I didn’t want that. I stepped in between and pushed you into my prison instead.”

  “Uh, is that a good thing?”

  “Well, he doesn’t know you’re here. In fact, I don’t think he knows my prison exists at all. He’s quite single-minded. Every time he’s come here, he looks only for the gate.”