House of Shadows

by Morgan Hawke

  Rowan snorted. “Don’t let it get to you’re already swollen ego. I doubt it’ll happen again.”

  “We’ll see...” His expression became serious. “You’re staying, right? With me?”

  Rowan sucked on her bottom lip, then smiled. “I guess I’ll have to, if I ever want to get any coffee.”

  Rick gave her a heart-stopping smile, and a swift kiss on the lips. “I knew if I held out on the coffee you’d give in.”

  Rowan arched her brow. “Oh, is that what you were doing? Blackmail?”

  “Absolutely.” He nodded, then grinned. “Come on, let’s get you some coffee.”

  - Eighteen -

  Trapped

  Rowan was just finishing her second helping of eggs and her third cup of coffee when Rick’s cell phone went off. He pulled the phone from his pant’s pocket and waved for Rowan to finish.

  “It’s the office.”

  Rowan frowned. “Isn’t it Saturday?”

  Rick nodded and covered the phone. “An architect’s job does not end on Fridays.” He walked off to his study just opposite the living room, talking about permits and licenses.

  Rowan shook her head and munched on a slice of toast. Rick, the executive vampire...

  I heard that, Rick radiated from the study. Then a stream of utterly linear geometric thoughts laced with calm satisfaction followed.

  Rowan grinned and chewed. I guess he loves his work, she thought as softly as she could.

  A gentle shimmer of disquiet touched her power.

  Huh? Rowan stopped chewing and listened inward. Her power was nestled deep within her, a purring and sleepy ball of warmth, with one ear twitching. Something had touched it, but not enough to alarm it. For some few minutes, she paid very close attention, but her power slumbered on without disturbance. The one twitching ear relaxed.

  Unnerved. Rowan rose and set her dishes in the sink. Draugar is still out there, she thought very softly. She didn’t want to disturb Rick who seemed to be concentrating heavily on something complicated. I better see about getting the stuff together to get the house barrier back up.

  Tying the velvet belt more securely around the overlong robe, she padded back down the hall headed for the vault stairs to find her red velvet shoulder bag. While I’m at it, I’ll pull out my tarot cards and see if there’s anything else I need to know about, preferably before it happens.

  She walked through the door under the stairs and down the narrow steps to the vault. Or are my cards still in the pouch on my belt? She stepped through the vault door and into the dimly lit bedroom. Okay, where did he put my bag? Come to think of it, where did he put my belt, and the clothes I was wearing last?

  Rick’s orderly hum of thought came to an abrupt and startled halt.

  Rowan looked up at the ceiling. “Rick?” She reached out for him...

  Danger! screamed across Rowan’s senses. Her magic abruptly came to hissing, spitting and enraged life. Her defensive light blazed up from under her skin and loose strands of her hair lifted in a wind of power and light. “Oh, my gods, Klaus must be back!” Rowan dashed for the stairs, her bag forgotten. “Rick!”

  She had taken three steps when something monstrously powerful grabbed her blazing magic by the scruff of its furious neck, and immobilized it. Between one breath and the next, her light simply quenched. She gasped in shock, nearly tripping as gravity came crashing down on her. Her power was still there, she could feel its boiling fury, but she couldn’t touch it. Something was blocking it.

  Rowan? Rick suddenly projected in a cool controlled line. There was the tiniest shimmer of anger threading the thought flavored with an underlay of fear.

  Rowan’s head jerked up to look at the ceiling. “Rick? What’s happening?”

  Can you come into the study, please? An alarmed burst of fear followed, and he was gone.

  Rowan grabbed the banister. “Rick?” She summoned every ounce of panic she had, and shouted in her thoughts. RICK!

  A tiny shimmer of alarm replied, but nothing else.

  Rowan stared up the stairs. Something was very, very wrong. And she was helpless; she couldn’t touch her power. “Damn it! Whatever this is, I need help,” she said without thought, and stopped. She took a breath in surprised revelation, and then another in silent wonder and hope.

  “I need,” were key words to a divine invocation, a request to the Powers that Be. Even the magically powerless could call on the Powers and be heard. Her inner power was not all she had. She was a witch, a high priestess to the Goddess. She had used common ordinary witchcraft for years before her magic had bloomed on the crest of her first boyfriend’s orgasm.

  Rowan looked back into the bedroom. She may have been cut off from her core magic, but she was far from helpless. Help was only an invocation away. Determination and a trace of uncertainty breathed through her. She pressed both hands over her heart and closed her eyes. “Blessed Mother of Magic, show me what I need,” she said firmly, and desperately hoped. She opened her eyes and saw her red velvet bag, crammed full of her magical supplies, hanging on the newel post at the foot of the bed. She trembled in astonished relief, then grimly strode for the bag. “Sometimes, I just love being a witch.”

  Rowan shoved her hand in the shoulder bag and rummaged. “Blessed Lady,” she said with far more confidence. “Give me what I need to deal with this problem,” she said softly. She pulled out a tiny velvet bag, and of all things, her cigarettes with the lighter tucked into the box. She frowned at the bag and the cigarettes. She never kept her cigarettes in her velvet bag, but here they were, in her hand. Something in her soul told her that both the contents of the tiny bag and her cigarettes were exactly what she needed. A grim smile tugged her lips. “Thank you blessed Lady,” she whispered. “I will not forget that I am a witch first, then a person of power.”

  Rowan felt a pull in her power. She looked back at the stairs. She was being called. She ignored the tug and opened the tiny bag. She found one silvered horseshoe nail and a piece of black yarn. Her brows shot up. “What is this?”

  The pull on her power jerked her hard, and she gasped. She turned and headed for the stairs at a fast walk before she knew she was going to take a step. It felt as though her body was on remote control. Hastily, she closed the tiny velvet bag and tucked it into the robe’s wide velvet belt at her waist. She trotted up the stairs so fast she tripped and barked her shin on a step. “Alright! I’m coming,” she shouted in annoyance. “Ease off, will you? You’re making me fall!”

  The pull relaxed, but remained insistent.

  “Pushy bastard...” Rowan set her jaw, and moved up the stairs at a more human pace. She didn’t know how she’d use the string, the nail and her cigarettes, but the Powers had provided, and they had never failed her. “And now you’ve pissed off the witch.”

  * * *

  Rowan stepped out of the door under the steps and immediately felt a hum of raw earth energy vibrating almost like a sound in her bones. What the hell is that? She turned left past the stairs, and stepped onto the cool marble floor of the study.

  Rick was sitting at his desk, and his expression was coldly furious. She frowned. His eyes glanced to her right.

  Rowan turned. Directly to her right in the corner and just out of casual sight, Draugar lounged comfortably, one knee folded over the other, in one of Rick’s more modernistic chairs.

  “There you are.” He smiled.

  Rowan’s started then fear and anger blazed hot. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Draugar’s brows shot up. “Collecting my property.”

  Rowan’s brow wrinkled. “We don’t have anything of yours...”

  A growl came from Rick. “He means you, Rowan.”

  Rowan stepped back and looked over at Rick. “What?”

  Draugar lifted his chin. “Actually, I’m here to collect both of you.” He stood and lifted a hand toward Rowan. “Come.”

  Rick’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Rowan jolted forward. Her
wrist was in Draugar’s cool grasp before she knew she had moved that close to him. “Hey!”

  “Be still.”

  Rowan abruptly stilled. In fact she was frozen in place unable to move a finger. Her heart thudded in her chest. What the hell is going on here?

  Draugar pulled the collar of her robe down to expose the soft pink scar from the bullet hole. “You are recovering nicely. I’m quite pleased my bullet did not kill you. You may relax.”

  Rowan’s breath exploded from her chest. She jerked her robe back onto her shoulder and shot him a glare. “Klaus told Rick how to remove your bullet.”

  Draugar nodded. “I figured he might. He’s dealt with these before.”

  Rowan blinked in shock. He knew Klaus would help?

  Draugar’s eyes abruptly changed to solid silver coins. “Rebuild your original house shield.”

  “What?” Rowan’s mouth fell open. “Mine?”

  “Yes. Mine is very distinctive. Yours will be a far better disguise, should Klaus come by...” He smiled thinly at Rickart. “For a visit.”

  Rowan winced. He meant: should Klaus come by for a snack. He must have known Klaus was feeding off of Rick. She took a breath. “Okay, one house barrier coming up...” She turned to face the center of the house.

  Draugar released her wrist, and she felt his hand settle on her shoulder. “My barrier will lay under yours, to ensure that Klaus cannot enter, invited or not.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Rowan muttered then closed her eyes and looked within. She felt her magic respond to her touch, like a welcoming cat rising under her hand. Focusing, she replayed the memory of her original ritual for the barrier spell: herb, feather, book and firelight. She silently replayed the mental twists and correlations in her inner psyche... And loosed a rippling wave of magic that exploded out of her in a blazing ring of virulent green fire, invisible to the magically blind. The outward tide of magic gathered up the traces of her fallen spell repaired, sealed and rose in a protective dome of power. A bell rang, deep and true. The sound faded and crows called overhead...

  Rowan opened her eyes. “It is done.”

  Draugar chuckled softly. “That was certainly dramatic. From the feel of your spell, I’d say you’ve had in increase of power since your last visit with me.”

  Rowan bit her lip and looked over at Rick. When Draugar had first ensorcelled her, she had fed on Rick’s power—before Klaus had forced Rick to drink his blood. Apparently the power in Klaus’s ancient blood had boosted her abilities.

  Draugar raised a brow. “You didn’t use a formal ritual to raise this barrier.”

  Rowan shrugged. “I did the full ritual the first time. Once I do a spell the long way, I can run the whole spell in my imagination and get the same results.”

  Draugar stared in disbelief. “You are imagining the entire ritual?”

  “It’s called visualization, and I don’t need to do the whole spell in my head. Once I do the whole ritual, I know all the short-cuts.”

  He frowned. “Short cuts?”

  Rowan nodded and shrugged. “Well, yeah. I know what the spell feels like in my head, so I simply reproduce all those feeling and the spell happens.”

  Draugar shook his head. “We will discuss this at length, you and I, at a later time. Right now, I have more urgent matters to attend to.” He made an elegant gesture with his hand. “Cast.”

  Rowan gasped and her back arched. Magic blazed and loosed a second wave of vibrant power. The second spell slid under her original spell creating a gleaming net of shimmering perception. Every corner, turn, staircase and closet slid into awareness until she had a complete map of Rick’s house and the property surrounding it lodged in her mind. Along with every bird and animal that moved on it.

  Her body abruptly relaxed and she staggered a step. “Goddess...”

  Draugar’s hand on her shoulder steadied her. “Rowan, face me.” His voice was calm.

  Rowan turned to face him. Now what?

  His flat silver eyes brightened. “Kneel and give me your hands.”

  Piss, he’s raising power... She went down on her knees and lifted her hands. “You’re going to put the bracelets back on.”

  Draugar took her wrists. “I don’t want to waste your power on commands when there are more efficient ways to induce obedience.” He tilted his head at Rick. “Rickart already wears them.”

  Rowan glanced over at Rick.

  Rick’s jaw clenched and a shimmer of worry transferred across their link.

  “This will not be pleasant,” Draugar said softly.

  Rowan winced. Great... So, what else is new? Earth power roared into her body and coalesced in a burning ring around her wrists. Her breath locked in her throat before she could scream. Lightning stabbed the back of her skull...

  * * *

  Rowan awoke sprawled across Rick’s lap with her head pounding viciously. “Gods, my head feels like someone drove a spike through it.” She glanced around and winced. They were on the couch all the way upstairs in the TV room. The enormous TV was set to the news channel. The program was barely audible. “Great Mother, what did he hit me with? A baseball bat?”

  Rick helped her sit upright. “The way you went down, I thought he had. You’ve been out for a couple of hours. Here.” He put two white tablets in her hand, then reached over to collect a glass of water. “If I hadn’t been wearing his damned bracelets...” His voice deepened to a deep rumbling growl that she could feel, vibrating in his chest. “I would have ripped him apart right there.” He set the glass of water in her hand.

  Rowan’s eyes were drawn to the thumb-thick bangle of dark crimson around his wrist. The bangles around her wrists were a deep blood-tinted purple. She frowned. That’s not the right color... There’s too much red. She flinched away from the sight of their enslavement and squinted at the white tablets. “What’s this?”

  “Ordinary aspirin. I could feel your headache an hour before you woke.”

  Rowan popped the tablets in her mouth and gulped water. “Thank you.” She gave him a pained smile. “You are the only man I know that thinks ahead of time.”

  He raised a brow, and his lips curved up on one side. “Was that a compliment?”

  “Yeah.” She returned his sarcastic smile. “Don’t let it get to your head.” She looked around sharply, then winced. That was not a smart thing to do with a headache. “So, what is Señor Psychopath up to now?”

  Rick snorted, then glowered at the TV. “He’s on my computer in the study. Hell only knows what he’s doing. I brought you up here so I didn’t have to look at him.”

  Rowan’s fingers tightened on the half-empty glass. “Rick, one second I could hear you just fine, and the next... Everything just stopped. What happened?”

  Rick swiped his hand across his chin. “He came up through the damned floor.” He sighed and closed his eyes.

  “Through the floor?” Rowan frowned. “Wait, didn’t he sink into the floor of the other house when Klaus showed up.”

  “Yep.” He pressed his fingers into his temples. “I think I remember Klaus telling us he could move through the earth.” Anger laced with humiliation came through their link. “He came up through the floor like it was water, and then hit me with something, Hell only knows what, before I could get out of the damned chair.” He turned his wrist over and the bangle shifted on his arm. “I woke up on the floor with this cool new jewelry.”

  “Can’t you just break it? You broke mine before.”

  Rick gave her a sour smile. “Oh, I’m strong enough to, but he made sure to order me not to. Or break yours either.” He snorted. “I tried anyway. Knocked me out cold for about a minute.”

  Rowan scowled. “Piss and firewater, there goes that plan...” Her eyes narrowed. “Through the earth...” She closed her eyes and reached out to feel the magical barrier she was maintaining. She could feel the study, and the glowing essence of Draugar stationed almost at its center—and the ground under the marble floor of the study. “The floor
under the study is marble slab over earth. The Vault goes the other way, under the house.”

  “Yeah, so?” There was a trill from his pocket. Rick reached in and dug out his cell phone. He scowled at the crystal window. “Hold that thought.” He opened the phone and jammed it to his ear. “Holt here...”

  Rowan slid off his lap so he could talk, then frowned at the cell phone. Draugar lets him talk on the phone? She rolled her eyes. Oh, well it’s not as if he can call the cops. Rick was a vampire, with greater speed and strength than any human, cop or otherwise, and he was not fast enough or strong enough to deal with Draugar. The cops would be helpless. We need something stronger than Draugar.

  She scowled. She didn’t know of anything stronger than Draugar except... Klaus didn’t seem to have a problem tackling him until he dove into the floor.

  She took a sudden breath then dug for the tiny pouch she had collected earlier. Luckily, it was still tucked into the sash of her robe. She dug her fingers into the pouch and pulled out the piece of yarn. Otherworldly chill vibrated through her fingers, Klaus’s eldritch essence. Rowan blinked. Mother of Mercy... She could call Klaus, and he could remove their unwanted guest—if Draugar didn’t sink through the floor, like last time.

  The floor...She frowned and focused on the earth floor under the study. She propped her chin on her hand, thinking about the house she’d been taken to. The floor had been marble in there too. If she remembered correctly, that floor had been set directly on earth just like the marble floor in the study here. Her brow furrowed. But he walked through the door and took the stairs when he went after the zombies in the house...

  Maybe he couldn’t go through wood, or... She frowned. Maybe he didn’t like moving through floors that had an open void, such as a room, under him, like ice over a lake. But Draugar was over an earth floor in the study right now. Even if she called Klaus, as long as Draugar remained in the study, he could sink directly into the ground, and escape again.

  They had to get Draugar out of the study, and keep him out.