by R. D. Hunter
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Beth told me where the Coven of the Gilded Moon was holding their Imbolc festival. It was in an empty warehouse on the north end of the city, far from prying eyes but not rundown or infested with vermin. Smart. As soon as I was in the car, I got on the phone.
My first call was to Jack. He was one of the best bartenders in the Fringe and was regularly tapped to work important events. I just prayed he would answer.
“Hi, Mel,” he said after the third ring. In the background, I could hear low music and the steady clamor of voices. Jackpot.
“Jack, listen to me,” I said, talking fast. “You’re in terrible danger. All of you are. You have to convince everyone to leave.”
“What’s that, Mel? I can’t hear you.” Shit. The noise in the background intensified and a thick burst of static caused me to wince. I’d forgotten how bad cell reception was in that area.
“Jack, get out,” I said, louder this time. “All of you need to get out of there. I’m on my way.” There was another buzz in my ear and the line went dead. Damn it! Had he heard me? I didn’t think so.
I made another call as I zoomed through traffic. It went through without a hitch and after a couple minutes of fast talking, I hung up with a satisfied smile on my face. This might actually work out.
I arrived at the warehouse in record time. From the outside, it looked quiet, dark and empty, but I knew that was just a muffling spell. Inside, there was a rager going on that would make most teen raves look like a nun convention.
I parked some distance away and scanned my surroundings. No sign of Hawkins, by which I meant there were no blood curdling screams, bodies being thrown through the air or the sound of explosions. I was in time.
I started walking towards the entrance, preparing what I was going to say to convince the most powerful coven in Atlanta to run for the hills before a monster showed up and gutted them. Understand this; all the witches inside were extremely talented and powerful in their own right, but they weren’t fighters. They were regular people who happened to practice a magical art, usually for personal gain, removal of obstacles and that sort of thing. Occasionally, they would use their talents for revenge, but there was a blow-back effect from casting directly harmful spells, and sometimes they could be quite dangerous.
When Hawkins showed up, they might be able to slow him down or impede his progress (if enough of them were sober, that is), and as a fully functional coven united in a single task, they could probably even take him down. But caught off guard, without any of their magical artifacts or personal crystals, chaos and panic would ensue as soon as the blood started spilling. Maybe I could warn them in time.
I increased my pace, then came to a sudden halt as my legs and ankles locked together and my arms snapped down to my side. I would have fallen over, stiff as a board, but the same invisible force that had stopped me cold also kept me upright. Shit, I’d walked right into a binding circle, and I didn’t have to look far to see who had set it up.
Trisha and the Thing sisters appeared out of the shadow of a nearby cargo container. Each of them still carried the markings of our first little run-in, but now there was a triumphant gleam in their eyes that told me I was well and truly screwed.
“We figured you’d show up here,” Trisha said, a cruel smile ghosting the corners of her mouth. “All we had to do was set up our little trap and wait. You really are pathetic, you know that?”
“I’m not the one skulking around in a cold, dark parking lot while there’s a party going on inside,” I wanted to say, but invisible bands of sheer energy wrapped themselves around my mouth and jaw, forcing me into silence.
Binding circles weren’t terribly complicated, but they were hellishly hard to break. Two crystals, one to restrain the physical and one to restrain the spiritual, imbued with a spell of restraint and placed in a holding pattern. When your target comes along, you activate the spell, usually by funneling a little energy through the crystal and reciting a keyword and phrase, and PRESTO; instant prison. I was in trouble.
Trisha casually sauntered up to me, waved a hand, and the bands around my mouth vanished.
“Listen to me,” I said urgently. “You have to let me go, then get yourselves to safety. There’s…”
My explanation cut off as a sharp slap connected with the side of my face. Pain flared for an instant, then melted away under the warm energy from my grandpa’s rapidly weakening amulet. I spit out a thin wad of blood and glared at my antagonist, who frowned deeply at my lack of reaction to her assault.
“Well, that won’t do,” she said, scanning me up and down. Her eyes alighted on the small chain around my neck, and she viciously yanked it off with a victorious snarl.
Fresh agony flooded through my body and, unable to collapse or move, all I could do was let out a little groan as my nerve endings caught fire. The Thing sisters gave a little giggle at the sound. I was hurting too bad to tell them to go screw themselves.
“Well, this is lovely, isn’t it?” Trisha said, holding the amulet up to examine it in the moonlight. “Explains how you’re up and about after looking like something the cat played with. One of your little friends make this for you?” She laughed then, a cruel, mocking sound. “What am I saying? You only have colleagues and contacts, don’t you? You don’t have any friends.”
“You’d be surprised,” a new voice said from the darkness.
All three women whirled in surprise to face the newcomer, but that she wasn’t there. Instead, a raven-haired beauty with a lithe figure that looked like she spent hours in the gym every day, appeared from behind, catching one of the Thing Sisters with a hard elbow that knocked her flat to the ground. Her eyes were tightly shut and she made no effort to get up.
Even through the haze of pain that tore at me from every angle, I wanted to cheer. Lacey Shade, Vampire Private Eye, had arrived on the scene. The second call I’d made on my way here had borne fruit.
Trisha and the remaining Thing turned in surprise, already raising their power for some kind of attack, but they were far too late. Lacey moved with a speed and grace that most Olympic athletes would kill to acquire, and there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her body.
She moved forward almost too fast to follow, catching Trisha around the throat with the crook of one arm and holding her tight, while planting a foot square in the stomach of the Thing. She went down hard, gasping for breath and making little choking sounds. Trisha was making similar noises as she scraped and wriggled to try and free herself. Lacey didn’t even seem to notice her efforts.
She turned to me with a grin that showed brilliant white teeth, but faltered when she noticed me pale and shaking where I stood.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. I glanced pointedly at the amulet still gripped in Trisha’s hand, unable to indicate any other way. She understood.
She snatched the amulet away and, still with only one hand, put it back around my neck. Sweet, blessed relief coursed through me, then dissolved into nothing. I bit my lip to hold back a cry of rage and frustration. I couldn’t face Hawkins like this. I could barely move. The only thing that was keeping me upright at this point was the stupid binding circle.
“Hey, what’s the matter, Girl?” Lacey asked, seeing the pain and fury all over my face. I was prevented from answering by a choked little laugh from Trisha, still held tightly in Lacey’s headlock.
“Her little painkilling necklace is out of juice,” she said in a strangled whisper, her face turning a shade of pink. “And judging by how much energy it was putting out, I’d say she’s in no condition to go to a party. Too bad.” She tried to laugh again, but a sudden pressure on her trachea from Lacey cut it off with a weak little gurgle.
“Is that true?” Lacey asked, looking at me intensely. I nodded.
“It was helping to keep me functional, but I can manage.” That last part was a lie, but I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. “Just help me break this binding and get me inside and I’ll do the rest.”
“Check her pockets for two crystals attached together.”
Lacey turned her prisoner around in one deft movement, still keeping her neck trapped in the crook of her arm, and began fishing around in the pockets of her jacket. It didn’t take her long to find two shards of quartz crystal, bound together by a length of twine. Lacey studied it for a moment before crushing it in her fist.
Instantly, the spell holding me tight vanished, and it was all I could do to stay upright. I did my best not to let the pain show on my face, but my friend saw right through me. She was good like that.
“You’re not going to be able to go in like that,” she said.
“I have to. I have to warn them. Hawkins will be here any second and slaughter all of them.”
Lacey sighed. She knew I was right. I had told her enough about Hawkins and the case that she didn’t doubt for one instant he’d make good on his word of killing every magic user he could find.
“Fine. Maybe I can help you.”
“How?” She turned Trisha around to face her. The bitch-witch gasped as the pressure around her throat suddenly released.
“With a little donation from our friend here.” She smiled at Trisha, but it was unlike any smile I’d ever seen on her face. It was too mean and broad. It looked…hungry.
As I watched, she placed both hands on either side of Trisha’s head, and began to feed. All I saw was a reddish glow around the tips of her fingers as she drew out and absorbed the psychic and mental energies from my foe. Her head arched back and a look of intense pleasure flashed across her face as she drank deeper and deeper. Trisha, for her part, struggled for a few seconds by trying to pry her hands away, before her eyes finally rolled back in her head and her arms flopped loosely at her sides.
To say I was horrified would be an understatement. I’d never seen this part of Lacey before. She was usually very careful to keep her vampiric urges under wraps, usually by feeding from the ambient energy produced by large crowds in a state of excitement. Night clubs, raves and sporting events were some of her favorite feeding grounds. But this…this was something different. This was wrong.
“Lacey, stop,” I said. “You’re going to kill her.” My words seemed to have an effect.
My friend looked at me for a moment, her eyes glowing with a scarlet luminescence, but then she blinked a couple of times and her pupils returned to their natural, brown state. She jerked her hands away from Trisha’s head, who promptly crumpled to the ground and didn’t move. I feared the worst.
“Is she…?” I asked, unable to complete the sentence. I mean, yeah, she was a bitch and a half, but I didn’t want my friend to turn into a murderer because of me. Lacey shook her head.
“No, I stopped in time. She’s just out of it. Will be for a while.” She gave me a brief smile, but I could tell it was strained. “Thanks for that.”
“No problem.” I tried to smile back, but it ended in a grimace before I could help myself. The injuries I’d suffered from Hawkins were beginning to throb and ache with renewed fervor.
Seeing my pain, Lacey came over and placed one hand on Gramps’ amulet.
“This is going to suck,” she said, before closing her eyes in concentration.
As I watched, that same scarlet light began radiating from between her fingers, and soaked into the small charm around my neck. Once more, the pain faded into oblivion, and I could stand and move under my own power. I let out a long, slow breath of relief I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. After a few seconds, Lacey stepped back. She looked a little green around the gills, which was something I couldn’t remember ever happening.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I will be. You try throwing up a Thanksgiving Day dinner and tell me how you feel after.” Ewww. Gross. But I felt well enough to continue on, so I owed her. “What do we do with these three?”
The Thing she’d kicked was slowly rising to her feet and the one she’d downed at the start of the fight was beginning to stir. Trisha still showed no sign of coming around.
I went over to the Thing Sister and got right in her face.
“This is over,” I said coldly. “Any minute now, a madman on a rampage is going to show up and kill every magic user he sees, which means one of two things is going to happen. Either I’m going to be instrumental in warning the Gilded Moon Coven about an incoming attack, thus saving many of their lives and earning their gratitude, or we’ll all die horrific deaths and that’ll be that. Either way, this little squabble is over. Agreed?”
The Thing glanced down at Trisha and over at her sister, who was shakily climbing to her feet. Then she looked over at Lacey who winked and licked her lips, as if savoring a delicious meal that was yet to come. That did the trick. She nodded her head so hard I was afraid it was going to fall off.
“Agreed. Totally agree,” she said shakily.
“Get your friend and get out of here,” I said, stepping aside to let her pass. The Things picked Trisha up under each arm, and was relieved to hear her groan and see her eyelids beginning to flutter. Despite Lacey’s assurance that she would recover, I hadn’t been so sure. Then they took off into the night as fast as their legs could carry them.
“Well, that was fun,” Lacey said, watching them go. “Probably not for them, but what can ya do?” She grinned, her color already returning to normal.
“Thanks, Lace. You saved my bacon. I mean it.” She shrugged.
“Glad to do it. Shall we go inside before the crystalline madman appears and starts with the disemboweling?”
“Yeah. We should hurry. I can’t believe he’s not here already.” We started walking towards the front door at a brisk pace.
“So, what’s the plan?” Lacey asked. “From what you told me, this guy’s too powerful to take on one-on-on.”
“True, but he’s on borrowed time. The crystals that made him into the magical equivalent of Superman are also siphoning off his life force.”
“Everything’s got a price, huh?” I nodded.
“He won’t last long, and the more juice he uses, the quicker he’ll expire. We just have to keep him from murderizing everyone he sees until then.”
“Us included, I hope.”
“Naturally.”
As we approached the entrance, we realized it hadn’t been left unguarded. A thugling of the Gilded Moon blocked our path, his ripped arms crossed menacingly in front of him and his boorish face displaying a scowl that promised a world of pain for anyone who dared to trespass. It was almost intimidating.
“That’s far enough, Ladies,” he said, holding out one meaty palm. “No admission without an invitation.”
“Sleep the sleep of the angels
And let the devils pass.”
I’d been preparing the spell ever since we parted ways with Trisha and the Things, pouring power into the words just in case we ran into some kind of guardian. Good thing, too.
The thugling dropped to the ground, snoring softly and we stepped over him.
“Wow,” Lacey said, impressed. “That was easy.” I shook my head.
“Only because we caught him off guard,” I said. “He wasn’t expecting a fight. Only an idiot would try to break in here without an invite.” Lacey opened the door and made a grand, swooping gesture.
“After you, Idiot A.”
“Thank you, Idiot B.” Together, we walked inside.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As soon as we crossed the threshold of the muffling spell, it was like stepping into an entirely different world, one filled with sound, and light and lots and lots of alcohol. The entire interior of the warehouse had been hollowed out, to reveal one massive room for the swarm of people that now occupied it. Most of them were in the center, dancing and gyrating to music that seemed to have more bass than anything else, while showing off perfectly toned abs, pecks and breasts that could only be obtained from a lifetime in the gym, or ten minutes preparing an illusion spell.
Around the outer edges,
which were darker but not wholly devoid of illumination, there were couples, throuples and everything in between, engaging in every act of sexual debauchery known to man, and some that were probably made up on the spot. In the corner was an elaborate bar, manned by none other than Jack Dobbs. He must have been contracted out especially for the event. I watched for a few seconds as he expertly combined a number of elaborate liquors infused with his own energy into an orange, swirling mixture that made the girl who drank it levitate for a few seconds. The man was a pro.
I hurried over, ignoring the faint moans that reached my ears over the throbbing music. Lacey stayed close by my side. I could tell from the spring in her step she was feeling better, probably drawing from all the energy given off by the party goers. I didn’t blame her. The excitement, lust and levity in the air was so thick even I could almost taste it.
“Jack,” I said when we got to the bar. He stopped shaking a drink long enough to give me a bright smile.
“Hey there, Mel,” he said brightly. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Didn’t think it was your scene.”
“It’s not, but listen. You have to leave. Now.” He gave me a confused look.
“Leave? Whaddya mean? I can’t leave.”
“You have to. Things are going to get very bad here any second, and you can’t be here when they do.”
“No, you don’t understand, Love. I can’t leave. I signed a contract to work this party. It was part of the gig.” My heart sank into my toes.
A contract forged and signed between two members of the Fringe was unbreakable. Jack couldn’t have walked out that door right now if he’d wanted to. Any move he made to shirk his obligations would just bring him right back to this bar, until the contract expired or he was released. Even if the place caught fire, he’d be right here as it fell down around his ears, mixing cocktails.
“Whose contract?” I asked, although I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew.
