Captive Magic (Mystic's End Mysteries Book 8)

by Leanne Leeds

  “Let’s not all start panicking here, okay?” I said with forced cheerfulness. “The only thing that’s happened is Chief Clutterbuck got a little loopy, that’s all. The house isn’t shaking on its foundation. There’s no lightning in the sky, no unexplained paranormal wind whipping the trees around. We’re not under attack. The situation isn’t any different from what it was five minutes ago when you were all outside telling me we could solve this with a little elbow grease and some creative thinking, then top it off with a Beef Wellington.”

  Pepper’s eyes flew open, and she cast a dubious look at me. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Fortuna, are you trying to call up bad juju? Lightning, paranormal wind? Why would you even bring those things up?” Her eyes moved from me to the window. She stared out suspiciously. “Does anyone see anything?”

  “Oh, calm down, Stanford. We mentioned that magic might be involved, too,” Angie reminded me. “Do you even know what’s wrong with my dad? Like, is it something you can sense with telepathy?”

  “Not without diving into his head, no,” I told her as I reluctantly stepped towards Clutterbuck. His eyes were unfocused, and he seemed agitated. The closer I came, the worse it got. “Chief, do you know what you’re doing here?”

  “I’m here to protect my daughter,” he answered in a neutral tone.

  “I imagine that’s exactly what you think you’re doing, but I’m worried at the moment your answer can cut two ways,” I told him with a sigh. “We are all concerned about you. You remember the presentation you just gave us about Karen? Conrad Noble’s murder?”

  That made him laugh outright. “I wouldn’t have told you.”

  I pulled back and half-closed my eyes to make my vision hazy so I could examine the chief for silver cords. Something, I reminded myself with guilt, I probably should’ve done before this moment.

  To be fair, no one had gone near my mother for months. And even if they had? I assumed my cutting the cord between her and Anna (Karen’s presumed source of power) would negate any actual damage she could do from the bowels of the Mystic’s End jail.

  It never occurred to me she would have enough magical ability to re-forge those bonds.

  And even if she had enough magical ability, I arrogantly assumed my binding her against harming anyone would prevent her from doing so.

  As soon as I unfocused my eyes, I realized I’d missed the most obvious tie.

  There, glowing clear as day, was a vibrant silvery-white cord hooked into Chief Clutterbuck.

  Coming from Angie.

  I sighed. I didn’t even have to check. Still, I stood up and walked around the room to confirm another cord from Angie stretched taut in the police department’s direction.

  My sociopathic mother had used the blood connection between her and Angie to get her claws into Chief Clutterbuck once again.

  The entire room watched me, silent, waiting to hear what I’d seen. I opened my mouth, then closed it. My eyes teared up unexpectedly. At that moment, I was so angry. Angry at my mother, for taking ties that were supposed to be comforting, something to be counted on, a place where people go to be safe and instead, turning those things against all of us.

  Angie didn’t deserve this.

  None of us did.

  Chris’s voice finally broke the silence. I don’t know how he knew, but he knew.

  “I can tell you found a tie. I would suggest that we not bother figuring out how it happened. The most important thing is breaking that tie. Since it can be painful, I suggest that you and Dalida work the magic while Angie remains in the circle with her father.”

  “Why me?” Angie asked, confused.

  “You’re the healer.” Chris smiled. “Or did you forget?”

  She blinked in surprise, sighed, and then nodded. “I keep forgetting I can do that. Okay, Daddy, come on. You and I are going to lie on the floor.” Angie stepped over to her father and reached down to help him up. He looked embarrassed at his unsteadiness, but he didn’t protest. “Fortuna is going to fix your head for you. It won’t take too long.” My sister smiled at me. “She’s gotten kinda good at it.”

  “I’ll go get the candles,” Aunt Addie said. “And if you need a third witch for the circle, my dear, I will stand with you. I may not be much of one, but you’re family, dear.” Before the older woman turned, she threw her arms around me. “You’re a good girl. All three of you are. These burdens…they’ll be gone from you soon.” She pulled back. “But family, Fortuna? The family remains. That’s the one thing my brother-in-law had right. Family’s everything. And you? You are family.”

  I was dumbstruck at her spontaneous declaration, so much so I didn’t know how to respond.

  “Addie, why don’t you go get the candles,” Chris said, loosening his folded arms and stepping toward me. Once Addie scurried toward the back bedrooms, I stared at him, still speechless. “Breathe.”

  “I just didn’t know what to say,” I whispered. I glanced around the room, somewhat embarrassed, but everyone was moving furniture and clearing a space. No one had noticed, or if they did, they didn’t stop to stare. “It was just…” I trailed off, unable to put what I was feeling into words. “What do you say to something like that?”

  “You didn’t have to say anything. That’s the beauty of family, Fortuna. No one expects you to be anything other than what you are. Addie said what she said because she wanted to say it.” The vampire half-smiled. “And because she meant it.”

  Still struck dumb by whatever was going on inside my head, I just nodded and turned to help Gabe push a chair across the room.

  After we moved the furniture and the candles were lit, I wondered to myself why we’d bothered to do all that work. Sure, the first time I did this cord-cutting thing, we went full-witch in the library. Circle casting, candles, the whole nine yards. The second time I did it? I performed the entire thing from start to finish on a driveway while my mother ranted and raved. No one even knew it was happening.

  Well, Chris did.

  But Chris seemed to know everything.

  I looked around the dimly lit room, the cleared space surrounded by concerned onlookers. Addie placed the candles at four points on the floor with measured steps and sober respect, as if she were moving to a drumbeat only she could hear. Admittedly, there was something beautiful about ritualizing the act, though. It felt more solemn than plucking cords from a raging madwoman on a driveway.

  Gently laying Clutterbuck down, Angie beside him, I felt like I was playing the opening chords of a symphony. The gang surrounded us more closely, watching, and I could feel the energy of their concentration. Without being told, they arranged themselves around the circle, just outside. The room grew quiet, the power thick as Dalida, Addie, and I strolled around the edge of the makeshift area and leaned over to light the candles.

  “We ask for the guardian’s protection of those that enter this sacred circle,” Addie intoned, raising her arms. Ollie glanced at her, kissed Pepper on the cheek, and stepped forward to light the fourth candle directly opposite Aunt Addie.

  Uh oh. Um.

  “We ask for the guardian’s protection of those that witness this rite,” Ollie called out. He fumbled in his pocket for a lighter and then leaned over to light the candle in front of him. I guess he still remembered that witch training from his college days. Even though he was completely human, it was touching that he wanted to help.

  But, you know, no one said we were doing, like, a particular ritual.

  “We ask for the guardian’s strength to complete the work that must be done,” Dalida said as she looked up, her face soft as her eyes blinked slowly. Breathing in, she leaned forward and lit the candle.

  They came to me at the northernmost candle—not remembering what the heck I was supposed to say. Miss Bessie wasn’t really a ritual type of teacher, and my lessons with Priestess Goodfellow were long past. My mind went blank. I’d never done a ritual that used the words everyone said, and it embarrassed me everyone seemed to know what to say—and
I didn’t.

  Gideon shoved an image in my mind. Me, painting. And painting again. And painting again.

  His message was clear—just say what I felt.

  So I did.

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. “May all the guardians protect those of us within the circle, outside of the circle, and gift us with the power to set the wrongs of Mystic’s End right.” I opened my eyes, looked down, and was shocked to find my candle glowing brightly even though I hadn’t lit it. A bubble of white-silver shimmered around us.

  “Whoah,” Pepper whispered.

  I met Chris’s gaze through the iridescent bubble as I turned. He nodded once.

  “What now?” Angie asked nervously.

  “Just lie next to your dad and keep skin to skin contact with him so this doesn’t hurt.” Ollie and I nodded to one another, and he took up a position at the pair’s feet.

  “What do you want me to do?” Dalida asked nervously. “I don’t have any special powers like you and Angie. I’m just a run-of-the-mill person who can talk to ghosts.” My fraternal twin shrugged and looked down sheepishly.

  My jaw dropped. I didn’t know whether it was the magic of the circle, the heavy energy of the night, or what. I suddenly realized that my sister Dalida had a unique magical power. And it was the exact opposite of mine.

  “Of course you do. You projected the ghosts.”

  “Oh, yeah, really useful,” she told me quietly.

  “I don’t think you projected the ghosts, though, Dalida. I think you project. Period.”

  Dalida looked confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a powerful telepath. But you? I think you are, too, just the other way. You didn’t project the ghosts. You projected the ability to see them into everyone’s mind that couldn’t. I mean, that’s…that’s huge.” I sat back on my heels. “I can pull things out of people’s heads, but sister dear, I think you can put things into them.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “That’s…that’s terrible. You can’t be right.”

  “No, it’s not terrible, and I—”

  “Would you two get on with it?” Angie seethed, popping up to a sitting position, pointing at her drooling father.

  “While I’m cutting the cords,” I said to Dalida, ignoring Angie, “you try it.”

  “Try what?”

  “You want her to just test out a power she doesn’t even think she has on my dad?” Angie said between clenched teeth. “Fortuna, are you out of your—”

  “You can do it.” I looked at Angie. “She can do it.”

  Dalida shook her head. “But what if I—”

  “Just project into the chief’s mind. Project into his mind that he is safe, he’s whole and can access all of his memories. Project that he, and only he, is in control of himself.”

  That brought Dalida up short. Her eyes narrowed. “That’s it?”

  I nodded. “That’s it. Force of will can overcome an awful lot—”

  Just then, Clutterbuck tensed and seemed to spasm as if having a seizure. Ollie jumped up toward his midsection and stared down at the man’s red face. Grabbing the chief’s wrist, his eyes went wide after a few seconds. “You need to hurry,” he told me. “I don’t know what this is, but his pulse is racing—”

  “Damn! Sorry, sorry!” Angie flung herself back down and wrapped her arms around her father. His muscles relaxed, and the spasm slowed. After a few more seconds, it stopped altogether. “Guys, he doesn’t look so good. I know I’m supposedly some super healing touch person, but this is making me nervous.” Her father’s face had taken on a dusky hue. “You said I can only make people feel better. I can’t make them better.” She gave me a pointed look. “Make him better.”

  “Okay, let’s do this. Everybody ready?” Dalida and Ollie nodded at me. Angie clutched her father tighter. “You know what you’re going to do?” I asked my twin. She stared back at me, nervous, but then nodded. “Okay. Here we go.”

  For all the drama surrounding the ritual, it wasn’t really much. It didn’t take long for me to unhook Karen’s tie from Angie. Once that happened, Clutterbuck’s face lost its ashy gray pallor and returned to normal. I was thankful I could solve the issue without damaging the bond between father and daughter. That was a cord I wouldn’t have been comfortable cutting.

  “It was strange,” Dalida told Gabe and me afterward. “I was so nervous about doing it, but it was like I simply walked into his mind, stood in the center, and told him how to feel.”

  “Uh-huh,” Gabe nodded, his voice slightly shaky. “That’s great, dear. I think it’s wonderful.” The detective looked a little pale.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

  “You must be thirsty. Let me get you both something to drink.” Gabe Wilcox bolted toward Martin’s kitchen like we had shot him out of a cannon. I guess it is somewhat alarming realizing your girlfriend can just shove whatever idea into your head she wants you to have. I bet Gabe would do a lot of dishes if they ever married.

  A lot of dishes.

  “Anyway, it seems to have worked,” I told Dalida. “I poked around in there, and he seems much healthier than he was an hour ago.” The three of us turned to watch Clutterbuck, who was lying motionless on the couch, snoring. His body appeared to shut down after the ritual and worked on finishing the healing we’d begun. “I guess we’ll know more when he wakes up.”

  “It’s just bizarre to me it was that easy.”

  “What?” I asked Dalida. “Manipulating someone’s mind?”

  She nodded.

  “I was quite surprised the first time I did it,” Chris said as he walked up and joined us. “It seems like people should have more defense against manipulation than they do, but it’s not something that comes naturally to them. Their urge is to trust, to believe, to be open to new people and new experiences. That, and I think there are so few paranormals with these abilities, over time they have to think any defense against psychic manipulation is unnecessary.”

  “Psychic self-defense is the first thing we learned when training as human witches,” Ollie said as he and Pepper walked up. “I guess that’s why humans still study witchcraft and still practice it in places. Some people remember.”

  I nodded. “How’s Angie doing?” I asked Pepper. She’d just left her side.

  “I don’t think she’ll be okay until he wakes up, but she came through the ritual just fine.”

  “That’s good.”

  “So, do we have to worry about all the officers at the Mystic’s End Police Department being under Karen’s spell now?” Gabe asked. “We didn’t see her control of Clutterbuck coming, and if it was because he was in the same building with her or was around her—”

  “We don’t,” Chris said with finality.

  I nodded. “I agree with Chris. The reason Karen could get her hooks into him again was for…” I turned and looked at Angie, wanting to explain to the group what happened but not wanting my sister to know that our mother came through her.

  “It was a reason other than proximity,” Chris said. “And if there’s anything I’ve learned about Karen White, she doesn’t waste her time or energy controlling people that aren’t powerful.”

  Gabe looked back and forth between us and then shrugged. “At least it’s resolved now.”

  Well, something was resolved.

  We still didn’t know who killed Conrad Noble, where the witch bottle was, who stole the selenite sphere and why, and what was going on at the Holy Grove Church. Other than that…

  Yeah, actually, we’d resolved almost nothing.

  Eleven

  Chris watched the dozing chief of police like an owl staring at a moonlit lake. “I think he’s waking up.”

  The slack-jawed, drooling Clutterbuck stirred slightly, took a deep breath, and slowly opened his eyes. Ollie laid his fingertips on the chief’s thick neck and nodded as if he was happy with what he found there. “Don’t get up too fast,” the assistant coroner warned him. “I’m not entirely sure w
hat you’ve just been through, but your body decided you needed a break from everything to get over it. You should probably listen to it.”

  “Do you remember anything?” Angie asked her father.

  He smiled weakly at her. “I remember you protecting me.” Clutterbuck reached out for his daughter, and she helped pull him to a sitting position. “That’s not right, you know. Fathers protect daughters, not the other way around.”

  “You raised a tough chick, Daddy,” my younger sister told her father with proud satisfaction. “We protect each other.”

  The chief frowned. “I didn’t protect your mother.” His face twisted into shock and then horror. His enormous hands flew to his face. “Your mother’s death was my fault. This has all been my fault. Everything from beginning to end.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case, sir,” Gabe replied crisply.

  “You don’t know the entire story. None of you do.” Clutterbuck seemed to fall again, his head lolling as if he was about to doze off. Then, with a start, his eyes opened again, and he looked more alert than he had been. “Karen didn’t just threaten Angie. Didn’t just kill my wife…if she did? Like I said, there was no evidence.” He winced as if the memory was physically painful. “She claimed to have captured my wife after her death. It wasn’t bad enough that Tara’s car ran off the road. It wasn’t enough. Karen insisted she could torture my wife for all eternity if I didn’t do what she wanted.”

  Chris and I looked at one another. “The last bottle?” he mouthed silently.

  “I ran for Sheriff when I was younger, did you know that? Won, too. I quit because Karen wanted me to be chief of police instead. So Martin could come here and…” The chief blinked his bleary eyes. “I told you this. I’m sure I told you this. But I couldn’t have. Wait, did I?” For a moment, he looked confused. There was a long, almost fearful pause. “I told you about Tara, didn’t I? About my wife, and the car accident.” Suddenly, he looked at his daughter with a terrified expression. “You know about the affair. Oh, God, honey, I am so sorry—”