“We are not sitting here with our thumbs up our asses while you go gallivanting out another exit. We will be coming with you. There has to be another way around.”
“There’s only one way in and out,” Dom snapped. “This is where you stay, unless you want to end up a stain on the floor.”
Barabbas looked absolutely mutinous. His eyes flicked all around and he eyed the wall as though he wanted to make a new way around. I was willing to bet that the enchantment extended into the walls to avoid just such an outcome. Grieves seemed to realize that as well, because his perfect posture relaxed by a hair, and his mouth set into a thin line.
“Fine. But if you do not return in a reasonable time, I will track down your sister and see that she pays for your betrayal, Iron Heart.”
My grip on my dagger tightened and I lunged toward him, ready to sink the blade into his side. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt like a son of a bitch. Dom caught my hand and yanked me into his side before I could stab Barabbas.
“Come on killer,” he huffed. “Let’s go find Cat.”
His reminder shook me from the murderous rage and back to the present. Right. We’d come here to pull off a rescue, not start another war.
Dom used his grip on my wrist to pull me forward, into the glowing light. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. I wasn’t sure how my body would react to the light. I was technically dead, just like the vampires. Would the magic sense that? Or would the soul that had been Frankensteined onto me save me from ending up a flesh smoothie on the floor?
A second later I opened my eyes and peered curiously at my skin. It appeared a little pink, like I’d been sitting out in the sun too long, but I otherwise felt fine. Passing through the shield felt like stepping into a light summer rain. The magic danced across my skin without doing any major damage.
I blinked in shock when I was pulled into the gloom on the other side. It felt like being blindfolded. The velvety blackness didn’t resolve itself into anything recognizable for at least a minute. When I could finally make something out, I saw that our tunnel curved to the right and out of sight.
“What’s up there?” I asked quietly, hoping the vampires couldn’t hear us. If there was a secret way out, I hoped Dom would allow us to use it. I didn’t trust Grieves and I didn’t want to have him anywhere near Catalina once we found her.
“The crypt. Come on.”
We set off at a light jog, coming to the end of the tunnel in no time at all. A large marble door stood out starkly from the surrounding stone. It probably shouldn’t have surprised me that the ever arrogant Finch family had decided that common stone was not good enough to house their corpses. The thing appeared to be locked up tighter than a nun’s underwear drawer, because I counted at least six padlocks. A creepy stone gargoyle flanked one side of the door, glaring at us with beady stone eyes.
“How are we supposed to get in without the keys?”
Dominic stepped forward and held his hand out. “I need your dagger.”
“What? Why? You’re not going to slash your way in, are you?”
“No,” he said softly. “I’m going to bribe the gargoyle.”
“With what?”
“My blood. It can wander off for a time if it receives Finch family magic.”
Before I had a chance to protest he knelt before the stone statue and murmured, “Ouvrir.”
The thing swiveled its ugly head to face Dominic with a scowl. It must have asked a question akin to “Who do you think you are, bitch?” because Dom smirked a little and pricked his finger. He swiped the bead of blood along the gargoyle’s hanging tongue and answered, “Je m’appelle Dominic Finch. Ouvrir, s’il vous plaît.”
The padlocks came undone and the chains fell away from the door, crashing to the stone floor with a sound so loud it made me jump. Then the thing cackled, stretched its long, leonine back and went streaking off into the dark, presumably to frighten some poor soul to death.
I wanted to ask how Lamonia would have been able to access the Finch family tomb, but I realized the answer immediately: they must have taken his uncle. The only question now was, what state would we find him in?
I made eye contact with Dom, then reached out for the doorknob with trembling fingers. It swung inward with only a mild effort of strength on my part.
The interior of the room was not what I’d been expecting. Instead of a dark crypt with a high, vaulted ceiling and raised sarcophagi containing the moldering remains of Dom’s ancient relatives, I found what looked like a bleak and barely decorated apartment setup. There was a sparsely decorated bed, an armchair, a TV set and two people sprawled in the chair and on the floor respectively. Disappointment leeched through my veins; neither of them was my sister.
The first was an old man I didn’t recognize. He was pale as death, and for an instant I could have mistaken the gaunt man for a vampire. But a second later, his weak, flickering aura brushed along mine. He was human. It was the second figure in the room that drew my attention.
She appeared to be about eight years old, though a little small for her age. Her dark eyes flicked up from the television set to settle on me and she drew her knees up to her chest, obscuring the image of Spongebob Squarepants on her pajama top. She was achingly familiar, but I was sure I’d never met her in my life.
“Who are you?” she asked softly.
My mouth went dry and I found it hard to say anything. This couldn’t be real. There was no way at all. To my knowledge, Cat had never been pregnant. And yet…this girl looked too like her, too like me, to be anything but her daughter.
chapter
18
“IMPOSSIBLE,” I BREATHED, STARING WIDE-EYED at the little girl sitting cross-legged in front of the boxy television set. She shied away from my scrutiny, scooting until her back met the stone wall of the chamber.
Did she know what this place was? Had this tiny sardine can of a room been the only world she’d ever known?
Because now that I was staring at her, I knew who she must be. The how was another thing entirely. The girl was the spitting image of Cat at age eight, with a cap of dark hair that cut off in a jagged line at her chin. Whoever had been cutting her hair clearly had no skill. Even that lent to the impression, as our mother had insisted on cutting our hair to save money until we’d put our foot down in high school. She had strong, sharp cheekbones, a pointy chin, and dark eyes that were almost a mirror to my own.
The only traces I could find of Findlay in her face were in the pinched, narrow bridge of her nose and the thin line of her mouth. Even then, it didn’t seem to detract much from the obvious beauty of the child.
I’d barely acknowledged the man in the room, too fixated on the impossible child watching me from the corner to be concerned with him. Dom’s shocked intake of breath drew me out of my reverie, bringing me back into the present.
He shoved past me and threw himself at the man in the armchair, half-draping himself over the man with a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
“Uncle Fabian! Thank the Gods. I thought you were dead. I found your place smashed to pieces.”
Fabian Finch looked like a stiff breeze would knock him over. Long in limb and very pale, he looked almost ill. Deep circles formed beneath his dark eyes, and his hands curled into bony claws on Dom’s shoulders as he attempted to push his nephew off. It was hard to see the family resemblance to Dom. They looked almost nothing alike.
“Don’t smother me, boy,” he snapped.
Dom took a step back at once and muttered a hasty apology in French, drinking in the unexpected sight of his uncle with a relieved smile.
“Who are they, Mr. Finch?” the little girl asked.
Once again, the shock of her small voice rendered me speechless. I was certain she was my blood, but I’d been at Cat’s bedside almost twice a month for two years straight. There was no way I could have missed the changes in her body that would have been necessary to create this gir
l. If she’d been pregnant, the mages at Fallen Oaks would have told me.
So how the hell was she here?
Fabian stood with difficulty and crossed over to the little girl, offering her a hand up. The jingle of a cartoon theme song sounded discordant in the otherwise silent room. She clambered into his spindly arms eagerly, clinging to his chest like a frightened animal.
“Calm down Sophia. These people are here to help us. This man here is my nephew, Dominic. Do you remember when I told you stories about him?”
Sophia turned uncertain eyes on Dom, sweeping her gaze from his toes all the way up to his face.
“Hello.”
Dominic stared at the little girl, then his eyes flickered to me with a question in his eyes.
“Yup. Welcome to my world.”
Fabian sank back into his armchair, breathing hard from even the small amount of exertion he’d been forced to expend. The girl toyed idly with an overgrown hank of hair, twirling it between her fingers.
“Who is she?” This time her nod was directed at me. Finch followed her gaze, frowning when he caught sight of me standing stock still in the doorway.
“That’s your Aunt Natalia,” he said quietly. “I told you about her as well.”
“How is this possible?” I croaked, unable to come up with a more articulate question in the face of what I was seeing.
Fabian’s sigh seemed to rattle his whole frame. What had been done to him to make him appear so weak? He’d always been a spare man in the few pictures I’d seen over the years, but he’d never looked like this. His skin was thin and nearly translucent. His hair had gone prematurely gray and had even fallen out in places.
“Sit down,” he said, indicating the large bed that took up most of the space in the vault. “It’s a long story and I do hate it when people loom over me.”
Obediently I crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Dom followed suit, settling onto the bed with enough force to make the springs creak. I faced Fabian and raised an expectant brow. “How the hell did this happen, Mr. Finch?”
Fabian drew in a deep breath and began, stroking a long-fingered hand down Sophia’s back to keep her calm. The little girl had returned her attention to the television set and stayed contentedly curled on Fabian’s lap while he spoke.
“Two and a half years ago, I received a midnight call from Louis Findlay.”
I snorted. Of course he had. Findlay always seemed to be involved in these things somehow. Though I now had an inkling why he’d been willing to commit so many atrocities, it didn’t mean that I was ready to forgive him for it. Not until I heard the whole story.
Fabian shot me a dirty look but continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “He was calling from a hospital parking lot in hysterics after finding out that his fiance had lost their first child at fifteen weeks gestation.”
My stomach clenched so violently I nearly spewed onto my boots. My sister had been pregnant. Why hadn’t she told me? Why hadn’t she called me in the aftermath?
I racked my brains, trying to figure out where I’d been two and a half years ago, but came up with nothing. It didn’t really matter where I’d been at the time. If she’d called, I would have come. No one should ever have to receive that news alone.
Dominic sucked in a breath through his teeth and his posture went rigid. I tore my gaze away from the child for long enough to examine his face. His expression gave me chills. I hadn’t seen such utter contempt and disgust in his eyes since the sham trial two years ago.
“Tell me you didn’t do it, uncle,” he hissed, eyes narrowing to slits. “You know it’s forbidden.”
“What’s forbidden?” I asked. Dom didn’t answer right away, so I seized his chin and forced him to look at me. “What’s forbidden, Dom? What did he do?”
“He created a homunculus,” Dom spat.
It was lucky that my last meal had been over a day ago, because I was definitely in danger of throwing up. I wasn’t an alchemist and didn’t have the intricate knowledge of the process that Dom would. But I knew the mechanics of them well enough to know what had to have happened. A regular homunculus was little better than a doll, an artificially created human body. Fully grown they were only about four and a half feet tall and shorter than most humans. They were also completely soulless. Little better than the golems that Jewish mages whipped up. For this girl to be so vibrant and alive, they must have taken the real soul of my sister’s child and placed it in a new vessel. It was only possible with black, forbidden magic.
Fabian’s eyes flicked to Dom and clouded with guilt. “I did what I thought was best. He was in pain.”
Dominic’s scowl was ferocious. His hands balled into fists on either side of him, wringing the sheets instead of Fabian’s neck. It was official. I had never seen Dom so upset. Even at my hearing, when he had to be restrained, he’d been more composed and reasonable than this.
“So you thought you had the right to play God? Pluck a soul from the ether and shove it into a shell? It wasn’t supposed to exist. Forcing it into an artificial body is cruel. It will live thirty years at best, and that’s only if it drinks elixir every single day of its unnatural life.”
I scooted away from him, his aura too charged for my over-sensitive senses to take. It felt like standing outside in the middle of a thunderstorm. The charge of lightning about to strike raised hairs on my arms and neck. His words spooked me more effectively than the anger. Sophia was clearly alive and sentient. Referring to her as a creature that didn’t deserve the right to live was dangerously close breaching the Trust’s egalitarian vision.
“How did you do it?” I asked, derailing Dominic before he could really work himself up into a righteous fury. “And how did you end up here? Did Findlay force you to hide you here?”
Fabian aimed his words at me, though his eyes never left Dom’s. “I required the…remains to be sent. The body was cremated and the ash coated the raw materials used to make the new body. From there it required ritual, elixir and time.”
“That doesn’t explain how you ended up down here,” I pointed out, gesturing at the stone vault. It wasn’t the worst we’d passed in the catacombs. It seemed relatively clean, the dead were peacefully laid to rest, and the sparse furniture they’d been provided was decent. It was only Fabian’s deteriorating health that didn’t fit with my Findlay theory. Surely the summoner would want to keep the man protecting his daughter alive?
Fabian’s eyes went strangely blank. “The vampires of House Lamonia found out about the transaction. Don’t ask me how, because I’m not clear on the details. They burst into my home and dragged myself and Sophia out. They’d had a replica of the talisman made and we were taken as far as the sun barrier. Findlay escorted us the rest of the way here. He hasn’t been allowed back since. The vampires hold us here in order to keep him in line. Without the talisman, attempting escape would be suicide.”
Ah so this was the black market transaction that Arabella Danvers had uncovered. It must have been one hell of a coup, turning that info over to Algerone Lamonia. It was just the in he needed to acquire his ultimate weapon. Only one thing had foiled the plan. Me.
I’d discovered Cat before she could die and host Valerius properly. I refused to go quietly after being framed for her attack. I wouldn’t allow Findlay to pull the plug on Cat and ensure their plan came to fruition. So they’d been forced to make alternate plans. The vampires were patient bastards, I’d give them that. They’d waited for the perfect set of circumstances and sent me on a suicide mission. I still couldn’t believe I’d been blind enough to fall for it. They had the perfect insurance to keep both Cat and Findlay firmly on their sides.
“You’ve got something better now,” I said, pushing up from the bed. “Dom and I decimated most of the defenses in this corridor. He tells me it will take at least a few days for the skeleton warriors to regenerate. The sooner we get Sophia out of here, the sooner we can pry Findlay from under th
eir thumbs. I fear he’ll never stop being an asshole, but at least he’ll be our asshole again.”
Dominic snorted a laugh and stood as well. He fixed his uncle with a hard look. “You and I will talk about this later. Don’t think you’re going to get away with this scot-free. There have to be consequences for this kind of magic.”
“I doubt I live long enough to make it to trial,” Fabian muttered. He lifted Sophia from his lap and offered her wordlessly to me. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to take her in my arms. Though she weighed about fifty pounds, she felt feather-light to me. She brushed my hair aside curiously and stared up at me.
“You’re my mommy’s sister? Do you look like her? Uncle Fabian says she’s not allowed to see me.”
My throat constricted. I’d thought it had been hard living without a father. He’d been killed for being the wrong race in the wrong part of town and no one had ever caught the bastards that did it. The pain of his loss still gouged deep, a throbbing wound that ached at the strangest times. I’d never realized how lucky I’d been. At least I had known my father. I could recall the smile lines around his eyes and mouth. I remembered how his belly jiggled when he laughed and how he always managed to get mole sauce in his beard when my mother cooked tamales.
Sophia had never met either of her parents. She’d never formed those impressions that were so integral to a child. Her limited life experiences ended at the doorway to this small, dank hole in the ground. I was the first real family she’d ever clapped eyes on. That knowledge made me want to weep for her. Unnatural or not, this child needed family.
I nodded tightly and offered her a sad smile. “Yes. I look a lot like your mommy. We were sent to tell you the rules have changed. We’re going to take you to see your mommy and daddy really soon, okay?”
Sophia nodded and yawned nestling her head into the hollow of my throat. “Okay.”
Moving carefully so as not to wake the drowsy girl, I made my way out of the vault and back into the chilly corridor. The hall was still a frigid fourteen degrees and I was keenly aware that she was only wearing thin Spongebob pajamas and little else. She didn’t even have socks on.
Agent of Magic Box Set Page 35
