by Livia Quinn
Jack said, “I don’t believe in Astrology.” He paused, probably realizing he hadn’t believed in fairies either until last week. “So the moons will be colliding when?” he asked Aurora.
Aurora smiled, “Clever, Jack. It’s called coinciding and it’s not as predictable as the celestial moons but as of now I estimate sometime between Sunday and Tuesday.”
Dutch arrived and Aurora embraced him, but Dylan merely nodded. What was that about?
“I know what it was about,” Marty’s voice came again and this time I heard it in my head.
The mindlink? I stared at the ground where the sound had come from. “Marty, where are you?” Milling around and keeping their voices low as Aurora had instructed, were Montana, Kat, Bailey, even Arabella, though Petre had remained at the Inn. I did not see the Imp.
“I’m sitting in front of you,” he said. “I’m invisible.”
Duh. “You can do that?”
“Careful, lass, you’ll look crazy if you keep talking to the ground.”
“How… and why are you invisible? We could use you here at the circle.”
His voice came, low and sincere, “That’s why I’m here, Tempest. But I’d rather stay under the radar with humans about, and it doesn’t make sense you’d bring any of your dogs, now does it?”
I was struck simultaneously with relief and irritation. “Thank you, Marty. But… what do you really want?”
“I’m here to boost the chances of connecting with River, though I must tell you I’ve been trying for days and I’ve detected nothing. And he—” Marty hushed as Jack, Aurora and Dutch approached from opposite ends of the yard. I’d been distracted and hadn’t noticed.
A car door slammed. Andy and Jordie appeared at the top of the slope carrying on an animated conversation, which stopped abruptly when they saw Jack’s glare. “What are they here for?” he asked Aurora. “I thought only POPs were invited.” He looked like he was about to grab his daughter and leave.
“What’s a POP?” Dutch grunted, frowning at Jack. He must have been using glamour because he looked less like a copper giant, but still acted like a big noisy kid in a quiet church meeting.
“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered.
Aurora’s eyes met Jack’s. Time seemed to slow. Jack’s sternly frowning face turned neutral. He relaxed and nodded. “I… you invited Jordie?”
“Yes, Jack, we make exceptions. She wanted to come, so with your permission I’ll allow it. She’s in no danger. Think of the ritual as a seanc—a prayer circle.”
Jack put his arm around Jordie and squeezed. Jordie looked at her father expectantly. He sighed, cast a glance at me and nodded. I’d sensed something from Aurora for a second. Had she put some kind of hoodoo on Jack?
Apparently it was one thing for him to be in the vicinity of you people but quite another for his daughter. I was having a hard time coming up with any animosity toward him though. If I’d been in his shoes the last two weeks, I probably would have packed up my daughter and moved in the dead of night. They’d both grown on me, and I didn’t want anything to happen to either of them.
I wondered how much Jordie knew. She’d found out about the event somehow, maybe from Andy, and begged Aurora to come. Aurora had told her it was like channeling, saying there was a strong ‘family bond’ between me, River and Dutch that we were hoping to use to find River. That was actually pretty close.
“Quiet everyone.” Aurora’s authoritative whisper traveled across the yard. “Dylan, break out the ritual supplies. We must be in place by 6:53 and maintain absolute silence once the full moon begins. Dylan, Tempe, Dutch and Andy will form the center circle. The rest of us will be on the outer circle. Tempe, do you have River’s new amphora?”
I reached into my leather satchel, removed the new one and the one Jack returned to me earlier. “Is two better than one?”
She gave a deep sigh and nodded, “Yes, indeed.”
Marty’s voice broke the quiet again, “Don’t forget the deadline for the derby is Saturday, Tempe.”
“Hush, Marty,” Aurora said under her breath. She frowned at the invisible Imp’s location.
Okay, I wasn’t the only one who could hear Marty? Had he spoken out loud that time? I could almost feel his contriteness, even without seeing him. “Yes’m, I’ll go to my spot.”
“Place the amphoras at the center of the inner circle,” Aurora said.
Outside the larger one Dylan placed candles and cleansed the area with sage, frankincense and cinnamon. At 6:45 he lit white candles and stepped inside the outer circle taking his place next to me. Dutch and I were at East and West, Dylan and Andy, North and South. I had no idea where she’d put Marty. She then arranged everyone else on the outer circle and enclosed us all within a fine ring of salt.
Finally, it was time, but something we had not foreseen, a heavy band of clouds, moved across the sky obscuring the moon and leaving us with only the light from the candles and an increasing wind.
One candle was snuffed by the breeze, followed shortly by another. And another.
Chapter 15
Tempe
Thur 7:48 pm “Ancient dudes—low tech.”
Andy opened his mouth but Aurora hissed, “Silence, Andy, until we’re done. You should be concentrating on recent training sessions with River, anything that helps you keep him front and center in your mind. Directing her instructions to the rest of us, she said, “Get a clear image of River and do whatever you have to do to keep it there—memories, conversations, even arguments. One minute.”
Flame jumped from the snuffed candles and steadied. All of the other flames followed suit. Several sets of eyes connected, curious. Since Aurora was directing and focusing the energies of the group, my money was on Dutch. It would be a piece of cake for him to keep all the candles lit and still focus on River—and churn up an earthquake or three with the leftover energy.
I closed my eyes, searching my mind for memories of my brother. At first it was like slogging through deep mucky gumbo, my subconscious putting up barriers…
It’s to protect you from the pain, but I’m here, daughter… Dutch’s thoughts comforted, and his hand squeezed mine. Then the images flowed… River running behind me on the grass, his little legs trying desperately to keep up, crying because I was going too fast. I turned and lifted him up high. His cries turning to giggles as he threw his arms up to the sky, wiggling his fingers, his curly bronze hair flopping in the wind as his squeals brought momma running.
She plucked him from my arms and nuzzled his cheek. She was so happy and beautiful. “My little rolling River. You won’t always be a trickle, baby boy.” She commenced singing to him, lyrics she’d created just for us, “I once had a raindrop, drip, drop, drip, drop, but she became a Tempest. Then I had a trickle,” she poked him in the belly, “tickle, trickle, tickle. But he trickled faster and faster until ooh, ooh, ooh, he turned into a River. Now Mommy has a tempest and river and she loves them thiiiiisss much,” which ended in both of us being dropped into a mom-made pool of water. River’s high squealing shrieks accompanied his splashing and kicking, drenching Phoebe and me.
It had been a wonderful day. I glanced at Dutch. Seeing my memory through the mindlink, he smiled and I returned it. My eyes closed and I made prayerful fists at my sides. This could work. I opened my thoughts searching for more family videos. And found Dutch trying to teach River how to start a fire, the Djinn method.
River sat across the pile of twigs and brush from our father who looked more relaxed and happy than I’ve ever seen him. “Okay, son, concentrate. You know what fire looks like, don’t you?”
Three-year-old River nodded wide-eyed at Dutch. “Uh, yeah?”
Dutch chuckled and held his hand out palm up. “Like this.” A tiny four-inch fire filled his hand, roaring and crackling just like the larger fireplace version.
River clapped and squealed. “Go, Daddy.” Not to be outdone, Phoebe leaned over against Dutch and said, “Let me help you, darling, that must be hot,” and
conjured a tiny raincloud over his fire, complete with lightning and thunder. While River and I looked on they continued trying to one-up each other until we were all tired of the game. River was asleep in Dutch’s lap. I leaned contentedly on one shoulder, Phoebe against his other side.
It was the picture I’d seen at Phoebe’s… I couldn’t keep this up. I thought I would just find my most current memory of River at twenty-three and hold that, but I was hit by one after another tender childhood image which only made me ache to have my family restored, to have another chance. Phoebe woul— Daughter, concentrate on River.
Fiery golden eyes captured mine. I inhaled, re-focused and did as he’d suggested.
The clouds cleared allowing the moon’s light to spread across our circles for another thirty minutes. Dutch shifted abruptly and said, “It’s not going to work.”
“Wait,” I said. The moon is still full—”
Aurora said, “He’s right, Tempe. It’s been an hour and a half. We should have connected fairly quickly.”
I felt Jack move up behind me and slumped against him dejected. The others broke circle and picked up the candles and amphoras. “We still have time, honey. Aurora said this Para-moon thing isn’t supposed to happen until Sunday or Monday, right, Aurora?”
Aurora sighed, “Yes. Jack’s right, Tempe, we still have time.”
Dutch faced Jack. “What we really need is you people to do your job and find out where they are holding him.”
Furious, I pulled away from Jack and plowed my hands through my hair, “Cut it out with the ‘you people’. We’ve been in this together for the last two weeks.” Frustrated, I turned on Dutch. “Jack has worked as hard as anyone to find River—once he figured out I wasn’t a murderer.”
“Um, excuse me…” Jordie quietly squeezed in next to her father.
Jack said, “This is my daughter, Jordie, Dutch.”
Dutch nodded formally and half smiled.
“What is it, Jordie?” I asked. She had that impatient air about her.
She frowned and scanned all our faces. “Well, if you’re trying to find someone, why don’t you try social media? Didn’t you guys just take a class in it?”
“We never finished the class,” muttered Jack.
We hadn’t even thought about Squawker or Peeple Pages. Of course, our kind usually doesn’t have to rely on human resources to solve our problems—especially social media. I guess it really is the Age of Aquarius. “What are you thinking, Jordie?”
“You could blast it to everyone in the area, looking for so-and-so and post her picture and River’s. They do it all the time with missing children.” She shrugged, “Just sayin’.”
I looked at Aurora who looked at Jack. Dutch looked like he thought we’d lost our minds.
Jack said, “She’s got a point. The reason I took the class was because it’s become such a valuable tool in law enforcement. Aurora, do you know how to use Squawker or Peeple Pages?” At Aurora’s headshake he said, “Maybe I can get Peggy to do it. I’ve got the pictures on my phone but I don’t remember my login or anything from class.”
Andy looked at Jordie, “Old dudes, l-low t-t-tech.”
Turning to her father Jordie said, “Text me the info and pictures. Andy and I will go to work on it.” She motioned to Andy, “Let’s go to my dad’s car. It’s cold out here.” She looked at Andy and mouthed, Ancient.
She just didn’t realize how close to the truth that was.
* * *
Jack
The universal language of fathers
* * *
I watched Andy and Jordie through the windows of my cruiser. Just two days ago, I’d have adamantly opposed the idea of Jordie even knowing about the circle, much less be present, and yet, I’d allowed Aurora to talk me into it. Why? As it turned out, she’d been right, there’d been no danger, and more importantly, Jordie had been able to offer a solution with her idea about blasting the details on social media. I was like one of the family members now, hoping against hope something would come of it.
Tempe’s friends milled around for almost an hour but the mood wasn’t unlike the after-party at a wake. No one seemed to hold out much hope for River after the telepathy—the mindlink—failed. Montana and Kat tried to convince Tempe we’d find River, shooting me hopeful, and I’m sure they thought, instructive looks.
I wasn’t getting, and didn’t need, the message. I was doing everything I knew how to do. There were just no leads to go on. It was frustrating. In this part of the world there were so many old oil field roads and abandoned buildings and farms; the possibilities were endless.
I wasn’t even sure River was alive but I didn’t dare mention that to Tempe or Dutch. They wouldn’t give up until, well, they just wouldn’t. Unfortunately, in River’s situation, the next two days were critical. After that, there would be no chance of finding him alive… unless, and this was even less palatable, he showed up under the control of the enemy.
Aurora, Dylan and Dutch stood near the back porch waiting on Tempe who had walked down to the bank of the bayou. Every few minutes the moon would peek through the clouds and shine down on her, the breeze making the strands of her hair look like waving Spanish moss. It gave a false illusion of serenity when I knew Tempe was grieving.
I didn’t know how she continued to withstand the emotional hits that bombarded her. Her fear for River when she found he was missing after losing the rest of her family. Her mother leaving, her father re-appearing, the seeming betrayal of her friends and lover. How much more could she take? It’s no wonder she’d lost it today, or I guess the phrase they would use was found it. Her power had finally shown up. And it had been amazing.
What had Dutch said? You haven’t seen nuclear. Wow.
I walked toward the bayou. She seemed so alone, so lost. I was about to put my hands on her shoulders and lend my emotional support, but she fell against me as if she hadn’t the strength to stand on her own. “I’m sorry it didn’t work, Sweetheart. Tell me what I can do for you.”
The roar of the motorcycle starting up caused us both to jerk and turn around. Curious, Tempe frowned at her father’s big Harley racing down the slope toward us. “What is he up to?” she muttered, but her words were lost in the thunderous approach of the bike.
Dutch came to a dusty stop a mere foot away and growled at Tempe, “Get on.” His eyes were like bright teal and copper coins when he glared at me.
“What did I do?” I asked.
“Nothing,” said Tempe. She turned and laid her hand against my cheek then kissed me on the lips as Dutch revved the engine like he was in some kind of bike club cockfight. “I’ll be in touch.”
She walked over to Dutch, swung her leg over the bike and twisted her hands in his tunic since there was no way she could reach around him. Dutch gunned the motor and spun the bike around, the back wheel sliding on the loose dirt and wet grass. I stood there watching as they disappeared over the top of the hill, the thundering sound of the big bike trailing behind it for a long time.
I was thirty-four years old, an ex-military commander, a sheriff and the father of a teenager, and my girlfriend’s father had just interrupted what could have been an important moment by riding in on his Harley and ordering her to go with him.
Of all the things that came to mind, foremost was, How much more… normal could it get?
I shook my head and looked toward the Forge. When I looked back, Dylan stood next to me. With one dark brow raised he said, “Welcome to Destiny.”
Chapter 16
Jack
Friday, 5:30 am Two kinds of crazy
* * *
After a sleepless few hours, my head whirling with images from the last few days, I revisited the determination I’d made during the night. I just didn’t see how this was going to work. Especially after the call I’d received at 2 a.m.
It was a domestic violence call, a repeat offender. A woman’s husband or partner was throwing furniture, breaking out windows. The neighbor
called it in. She said the guy needed to be put in jail for good this time. If not, his wife was going to wind up dead.
When we arrived on the scene, everything I’d seen up to that point had been theoretical, hinting at supernatural possibilities and drama. But this brought it home.
The house was trashed. I would have expected this damage if the storm maiden had been inside in beast mode, the interior walls nearly stripped of their paneling, lights hanging from wiring, windows busted, the victim lying in her own blood, barely alive. There were scorch marks across the floor and up the wall.
That wasn’t what got to me though. There was a set of bloody footprints on the floor as big around as a tree trunk and some creature had dragged through it and then disappeared, not even a sign of the bloody trail two feet away from the body. When I followed those sooty marks on the wall, I looked up into an expanse of black sky and a million stars. The roof had been peeled back like the lid on a tin can.
The entire time I’d been searching the room, a little mouse had darted around looking for a way out. It seemed desperate to escape, as if I was going to hurt it. It was just a mouse. Finally, opened the front door. It stopped, stared up at me with… no forget it, I was totally losing it. The last I saw of the little rodent was when the ambulance arrived outside, and it took off through the open door. Free at last, I thought.
The woman was going to make it. She’d been conscious and had given me a statement, saying, “The dinch saved me,” or something like that. “Tanker.” What the hell did that mean?
Where was my resolve? I’d made up my mind and here I was doubting myself again. Who could blame me? In the last three days, I’d found out that not only did my soon-to-be girlfriend brew up storms when she got mad, but her father and brother were genies.
Genies. If I said it again, out loud, maybe it would sink in. “G-e-n-i-e.” Then there was the local B&B. Now I knew why it was supposedly always booked. It was owned by the Green Giant and his Queen, and there was a whole lot more weird going on there.
