Reach For Me

by Elizabeth Cole

  “Wait, how many times has he come here?”

  “Dozens, over the past several decades. Sometimes alone, sometimes with others like him. Always trying to clear the gate and open it up.”

  “Dozens?” Cara echoed. “Why did he wait so long to hire someone like me to fix the floor then?”

  “From what I gather, he didn’t know what was required before. But now he does, and I’m afraid it’s quite dire for us all.”

  “Ok, then let me out of this place and I’ll go talk to the Salems and they’ll fix it.”

  “I’m not sure I can, and anyway, the fire will be coming soon.”

  “But we just saw a fire! Didn’t it already happen?”

  “Yes. And no. In fact, it never stops happening. Oh, there’s the smoke. It’s beginning.”

  Marigold looked around worriedly. And yes, there was the first hint of smoke, and a faint crackle from beyond.

  “We need to get away from here,” Cara said. “Now.”

  “Yes. You must try to stay with me, Miss Cara. This place is very confusing, and things move around. You must not get lost.”

  But the smoke was thickening, and when Cara went to grab Marigold’s outthrust hand, she missed, and she heard screaming, and then she was swept into fire…

  Chapter 27

  Mal was slowly losing his mind. Cara continued to be missing, Halloween continued to creep closer hour by hour, Egan House continued to be on a hellhole, and everything continued to go to shit.

  Both cats kept constant watch on the house, giving up any pretense of needing to sleep twenty-three hours a day.

  The vampires are there again, Behemoth told the brothers the night of the thirtieth.

  “Then we’ll go and kill them,” Dom said. He was more than ready, having prepared a little anti-vamp kit by the door.

  They’re just going to flee, like before.

  Since the one night they’d caught a vampire on the Egan property, the brothers hadn’t been able to actually engage with another one. They ran away at any hint of movement. Normally, Mal would be pleased that some monsters knew enough about the Salems to steer clear. But this wasn’t normal. He wanted to dust these things, and they weren’t obliging.

  “What do they look like?” he asked Behemoth anxiously.

  All male. The cat was aware of Mal’s fear—that Cara’s vanishing act was the result of being turned. I still have not seen her, alive or otherwise.

  “She’s got to be somewhere!” he snarled, wanting to lash out.

  “Go practice,” Lily told him quietly, looking up from the Magic 8-Ball she was holding. “You’re no good to anyone like this.”

  His mood was crap, and he took it out on her. “Oh, really? Is that what your plastic non-crystal ball advises?”

  “Oracles don’t offer advice,” she said with admirable patience. “They don’t tell you what you should do or shouldn’t do. They tell you what will occur on a certain timeline if things remain unchanged.”

  “And on this timeline I’m going to go into the basement and kick a heavy bag for a while?”

  She tipped the Magic 8-Ball over. “Signs point to yes.”

  “I hate you.” But he headed for the basement.

  “Love you, asshat!” Lily called after him.

  Practice wore him down, which was good. Mal needed focus, and fighting always helped him focus. Think of how to help during the spell. Think of closing the hellhole. Think of doing something for others this time.

  Don’t think of dying. Don’t think of not dying, and just being trapped for all eternity.

  Mal still thought of dying. He wasn’t scared of death, not exactly. He could see the upside. Being reunited with his parents and all his family gone before. Not worrying about the mundane crap of life. Never being left behind again.

  Still, he was afraid of dying. The actual, painful your heart just stopped bit. And if he was really trapped, the painful part might go on forever. Which would suck.

  “Better me than them,” he muttered, delivering a vicious kick to the practice dummy.

  His brothers had lives to live. And so did Cara, if his vision could be trusted.

  No one knew where Cara was. But strangely, the floor of the parlor was changing. Mal saw the differences that morning. More of the wooden bits of the summoning circle were complete, more of the floor was ready to go.

  It made no sense. The vampires couldn’t be doing it, since they were lurking outside. Cara couldn’t be doing it, since she was missing.

  No one was doing it. Mal even peeked at the camera feed Cara set up. There was no movement at all. Just a few little blips marred the feed, which he assumed was Marigold passing by on her ghostly little way.

  He kept going back to the parlor, feeling like Cara was somehow there still. So much of her attention had gone into the floor, into creating this work of art.

  How was it possible that she could be missing?

  The next day, Halloween came, ready or not.

  The Salems were ready. They’d hashed out a plan, sort of. They’d get to the house before sundown to beat Morningside and his vampires to the site. They’d set up their own spellworking apparatus in the parlor room, and Dom would do the actual casting. Having Dom was a huge advantage, since he excelled at magic and could cast spells much more quickly and flexibly than anyone else.

  Dom’s idea was that they’d only try to interrupt Morningside’s own ritual. By killing the vampires and physically disrupting the summoning circle, they could gain a little time to figure out how to close down the hellhole itself without losing a life.

  But Mal also intended to be close by, because he was certain that a sacrifice would be needed after all.

  Dom was casting. That left Lily, Lex, and Mal to be the anti-vamp squad. They each had stakes, holy water, and a container of lighter fluid and matches. Mal would take point on fighting, with Lex and Lily providing support.

  Mal had rifled through the family collection of saints’ medals, all gifts from his mom’s relatives, who took a distinctly religious approach to demon-slaying. He pulled out the medals for Nicholas, for Gertrude, for Michael. Basically he wasn’t being picky. The medals held both the standard blessing, as well as an extra layer of magical protection courtesy of the de Silvas.

  Behemoth informed them that he would help as well, but he didn’t say what that meant. He sharpened his claws a lot that day, though.

  Mal spent a rough couple hours locked in his room, writing. He wrote a letter to his brothers, and one for his abuela and his grandparents. One that would have to serve as a will, not that he possessed anything worth willing. He put them all into envelopes and labeled them, then left them on his desk.

  A furious Vinny was the designated survivor, staying at the Salem house with Piewicket and Pumpkin. She didn’t like it at all. However, if everything went horribly wrong, someone had to notify the family and feed the cats.

  “This is not cool,” Vinny growled.

  Dom finally talked her into it by pointing out that the only way he’d be able to cast anything was if he knew Vinny was safe.

  “Have fun,” she said from the porch, looking more punk rock than ever. “I’m going to have Mal give me ass-kicking lessons after this just so I can punch you.”

  Mal laughed weakly. He wouldn’t be coming back.

  Vinny kissed Dom hard, and then stomped back into the house.

  They walked up the hill. The workers were long gone, most of them having families and lives to get to on Halloween.

  So no one was there to stop Mal from opening the door in his own otherworld-y way. He let the others in.

  “Remember,” Dom said. “No one invite any strangers in the house, even if they look like cops or EMTs or whatever.”

  “Not our first rodeo, dude,” Lex said.

  “Yee-haw,” Lily added.

  They got set up in the parlor room, distributing needed items like candles and crumbled sage. Sundown would occur within minutes.

  Mal k
ept an eye out for Marigold. He didn’t see her, but he kept getting hit with waves of anger and sadness.

  Which might just be because he was still planning on sacrificing himself in a couple hours.

  They’re here, Behemoth announced, hissing.

  And yes, there they were. Morningside walked into the room, flanked by three more vampires, including…

  “Barry,” Mal said, smiling at last. At least he could finally kick the shit out of this guy.

  Barry grinned back, his teeth sharp and white in a pale face.

  There was also a total stranger. Mal asked, “How did you get in here? No one invited you.”

  “I don’t have to be invited into my own home,” the new vampire said. “I’m Karl Egan. This is my house.”

  “You’re the client!”

  Egan nodded, evidently pleased to be recognized.

  “Karl. Didn’t he die in the war?” Lily asked.

  “I died and was reborn,” Egan replied proudly. “And I knew that my father’s work could still be completed, even if it took far longer than expected. But then, my father was a rather naive man. He never knew what opening the gate would really mean for the world. For many worlds.”

  “But Morningside does, because he was probably around in your father’s day. It was probably him who put the idea in your father’s head in the first place,” Mal said.

  “And to think you’re the dumb one,” Morningside told him with a cold smile.

  Barry pointed to Mal. “I get to eat him.”

  Morningside shrugged, barely paying attention. “Feed yourself however you like.” He gazed at the humans. “Ah. Introductions are in order. Now, what is your little group exactly? A coven? A cabal?”

  “It’s technically a limited liability company,” Mal said. “Demon-hunting, exorcisms, vampire staking, whatever.”

  “A family business, I see,” Morningside said. “Dominic Salem, Malachy Salem—not East! This must be Alexander Salem. And the young lady?”

  “Lily,” said Lily coolly. “No relation.”

  “Hmm.” Morningside’s eyes gleamed as he looked Lex over. “That means you’re the youngest of the family. How interesting. I’d like to know more about you.”

  Lex lifted up the stake in his hand. “Come closer and find out.”

  Don’t be tough, Lex, Mal thought frantically.

  Before he could react, Behemoth jumped into the space between Morningside and Lex.

  Morningside looked surprised, and actually gave a small bow to the cat.

  “My lord, it is an honor.”

  I know, Behemoth responded haughtily. And if you are half as intelligent as you are honored, you’ll leave this place immediately. For I claim it.

  “Ah, I can’t do that, my lord. I have claimed it first. You see, I’ve already bound a woman’s soul into this circle, just as she put her whole heart into the physical creation of it. It seems such a shame to waste our efforts.”

  “Cara,” Mal said, his heart freezing up. “Where is she?”

  “Oh, I put her somewhere safe. A special spot in the otherworlds just large enough to accommodate her. I’ll pull her out when I need her body for my ritual. Her blood will be the final binding to the circle her skill made. Thus the spheres align, and thus her sacrifice will glorify Netjerunakht.”

  “What’s the deal?” Lex asked. “Prince Networknews gets the profits on the Riimaran side and you get them on this side? Is that like a fifty-fifty split?”

  Morningside’s face went stony. “Do not mock the Prince of Riimara, for his subjects will soon be here.”

  How boring. Behemoth punctuated his opinion by flicking his tail and spraying pungent urine over the gorgeous, shining floor.

  “What are you doing?” Morningside yelled. He grabbed Barry by the arm. “Clean that up!”

  “I’m not a damn janitor.”

  “You exist because it amused me to turn you,” Morningside snarled. “Now clean the circle. It must be pure for the ritual.”

  Barry took one step forward, which was as far as Mal was willing to let him go. He sidestepped into the otherworlds just far enough to catch Barry by surprise—

  —and saw Marigold standing in the doorway—

  —and Mal popped back into the real world right in front of Barry, surprising the newbie vamp. The fight was short and brutal, and not really fair. Mal had far more training and more experience than Barry, who was a bit clumsy, even with the preternatural gifts of being a vampire.

  Mal staked him seconds later, and Barry looked aghast, right before he started to disintegrate.

  Morningside didn’t blink at the loss of one soldier. He ordered Egan to take care of the annoying humans, since Lex and Lily were already advancing with holy water at the ready. Morningside then went for Dom himself.

  Mal rushed to block the vampire’s path to his brother, slipping into the otherworlds again with the intention of confusing Morningside or at least getting him into a weak position between him and Dom.

  But the moment he slid into the shadowy, nearby otherworld, a small hand slipped into his.

  Marigold.

  “Malachy,” she said urgently. “Please listen. Your Cara is lost in the bad part of the house.”

  At the word Cara, his plan for fighting went poof.

  “Can you show me how to get there?” he asked the ghost.

  “Come with me! It’s easier my way, especially now that the gate is so…busy.” She gestured to the indistinct shapes of the humans and vampires engaged in separate fights in the room. Mal watched the figures as if in a fog—Lex and Lily had advantage of numbers, but Egan was way older and more wily than Barry had been. And Morningside was more than a match for Dom.

  Then two green eyes gleamed right through the fog. Go find her.

  Mal nodded to Behemoth, then let Marigold lead him into a weird, twisted version of Egan House, almost the same as the real world one, but not quite. This one showed flashes of pictures on the walls, and furniture that appeared to be solid until Mal looked directly at a piece. Then it would blink out. Were they just Marigold’s memories manifesting? Or was time bending more than usual this close to the hellhole?

  They climbed insubstantial stairs, and Mal reached the room where they’d first seen Marigold. He walked to the ornate carved door with the mirror set into it.

  “Open it,” Marigold said.

  “This doesn’t go anywhere.” But he turned the knob anyway. He’d see a brick wall, nothing else.

  Beyond, he saw no bricks, only smoke and flame. “Madre…” he muttered. When he’d first seen this door in the real world, he wondered why they kept it. Now he knew that it was probably bound into the house by a lot more than nails and caulk. This door, with its carvings and the mirrored inset, existed on multiple planes, a doorway in more ways than one.

  For example, right now, it appeared to lead to yet more house…even though no such house existed in the world Mal called home.

  “How is this…there’s nothing on the other side of this door. It’s outside! It’s empty air,” he said. But there was house there now, a burning house.

  “I told you it was the bad part.” Marigold faced the inferno, her black eyes reflecting the flames beyond.

  “How is that possible? It’s not even there, but it’s there, and it’s still on fire?”

  “It’s always right now,” Marigold said, emphasizing each word. “Here, in this place, it is always the moment I die.”

  Chapter 28

  Mal watched the smoke and flames, his heartbeat already spiking as panic took hold. The scene was so similar to his vision that he checked his clothes for errant sparks and ash.

  “And that’s where Cara is?” he asked, really hoping it was not.

  The ghost nodded gravely. “She’s lost in there. I hate this part. Every time.”

  “I can see why.” On a sudden impulse, Mal slipped off one of the bracelets he’d shoved on. He gave it to Marigold, who now seemed as solid and as real as any human
. “Here. It’s St. Nicholas.”

  “Santa?” she asked, putting the bracelet on and tightening the cord around her tiny wrist.

  “That’s one of his jobs, yeah. But he’s also a patron of children.”

  “I can feel the blessing in it.” Marigold smiled, trying to be brave. “We should go. I can help lead you, but Cara is lost, and the house doesn’t always stay the same. The mirrors are especially bad.”

  Marigold wasn’t kidding. This mirror world was a labyrinth, with a hundred doors and strange rooms and the constant cloud of thick smoke obscuring his line of sight, making it impossible to get a handle on the layout of this sick carnival funhouse.

  The little ghost did her best, calling out to Cara and shutting doors that led the wrong way. “This isn’t it,” she said at one door. “This is just another trick. I remember this room from Mother’s stories.”

  “Is that what this place is? Memories?”

  “Memories and dreams,” Marigold replied. “It’s hard to know which sometimes. I think the gate being here makes them all collect and linger. Like a magnet.”

  And she’d been stuck here too, a little piece of iron with no choice but to hang around.

  “I pulled Cara away from Morningside when he tried to trap her, but I only had my own hell to pull her to. And then she got upset and ran, and got lost. I think Morningside’s spells still have some hold on her. He’s a very powerful caster. If he gets to her before we do…”

  “I’ll find Cara first,” Mal promised.

  All his noble intentions of being a willing sacrifice fell away. Mal had one goal, and it was to find Cara and keep her safe and alive and healthy for the next eighty years.

  Because he loved her.

  Mal always sort of assumed that falling in love was a grown-up thing that would involve some choice. See a woman, assess, and decide which way to swipe. But with Cara, there was no conscious decision at all, and there never had been. He never got to choose loving her. He just did. And even though it all happened fast, it still took him a while to understand what had happened. He loved Cara. He couldn’t unlove her if he tried. He needed her in his life. Every part of her. Her front side. Her back side. Her no-nonsense, workaholic side. Her drop-it-all-to-rescue-a-kitten side. Her weird, sweet side. The side of her face with the dimple that appeared when she laughed. He definitely needed that side in his life.