The effort was draining, and I had to close my eyes so I could focus. After I found a rhythm, the ebb and flow of energy lulled me into a trancelike state.
I wasn’t sure how long we had worked the spell before Charlie finally moved her hands away, but she looked wrung out. Her naturally creamy complexion was pale and slick with sweat. The room was quiet and empty. Both men had left us to our work.
Now that Molly’s body temperature was no longer dangerously low, Charlie moved to examine the broken girl. She carefully removed the soiled jacket. Instead of jostling the injured arm, she simply cut the blood-soaked clothing from her body and then gingerly peeled the fabric away. She cautiously examined every bruise and cut before making a final determination.
“I’m going to need powdered comfrey and some fireroot salve,” Charlie said when she finally got to the gash above the girl’s eye. “I also need an ace bandage or some gauze so I can stabilize her broken arm. This head wound is serious, and I’ll need to start there. Now that her temp is normal, if I don’t stop the bleeding in her brain she might not wake.”
I ran down the hall and unlocked the unused clinic space at the back of the house. After moving a few boxes I’d stored back there, I managed to unblock the door to the supply closet. It was still well stocked from when my grandmother had accepted patients at the house. I needed only a few seconds to collect everything Charlie needed. I hurried back to my room, but she’d already started on the head wound.
“Om mani padme hum,” she chanted, laying one hand on the girl’s forehead.
Molly contorted under Charlie’s touch, sweat glistening on her exposed skin. Her body writhed and twisted under the spell, and she began to moan.
Healing wasn’t pretty. In the old days, most healers were called exorcists and were summoned to cast out demons and evil spirits from the sick. But in truth, it wasn’t spirits leaving the body. The mending of bones and tissue by magical means was (and still is, honestly) painful.
“Om mani padme hum,” Charlie continued, “Om namo Bhagavathe VasudevayaDanvantraye.”
Charlie bit her lip and hunched over the girl, focusing more power. She continued mumbling ancient mantras, her voice becoming a whisper, taking on a rhythmic tone. It didn’t sound good. Charlie was invoking the old gods: Avalokiteśvara, Dhanvantri, heck, I thought I’d heard Asclepius mentioned.
Without disturbing her, I gently laid the supplies on the bed and left. If she needed me, Charlie would come find me.
Rick and King were in hushed conference when I entered the living room. The smell of fresh brewed coffee greeted me, but I walked over to the tall mahogany liquor cabinet tucked in the corner. Normally, I’d welcome a cup of java, but I decided that something stronger was in order. After years in the funeral business, I had developed a taste for well crafted Scotch. Call it a professional hazard. A stiff drink was a suitable farewell at many wakes.
I snatched up three glasses and the bottle of Glenmorangie single malt and set them on the table. I didn’t offer the men a drink, but instead poured myself a generous serving and sat. “There’s ice in the freezer.”
Rick picked the bottle up and swished the amber liquid. It apparently passed inspection, because he poured some for himself and King.
I took a long draw from my glass. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warm, smooth burn, and relaxed as the heat spread through my chest. The tight, knotted tension was replaced by an all-over ache. I sank into the soft leather chair across from them, and took a moment to enjoy the drink. I wasn’t looking forward to what was about to happen.
“Charlie’s making progress,” I said. “So until she’s done we have some time. I’d really love to hear what the fuck is going on.”
I was tired of playing politician and mediator. My people skills had reached their limits. A young girl on the edge of death in my bed and a room full of secrets were, evidently, where I drew the line.
“Who’s going to start? Hmm? No one? Fine, I’ll break the ice. Tell me what you know about those charms,” I said to King.
A sharp twang of guilt assaulted me, and I realized I hadn’t put my ring back on. I reached down and pulled the ring out of my jeans pocket, but paused and observed a moment longer. I was a little confused by what I felt. “What are you worried about?” I asked as I slipped on the ring.
“Nothing.” The single word sounded too loud. It reverberated through the room. He didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats, and when he finally spoke, instead of answering my question he backtracked to the topic of the charms.
“Those charms have been showing up on the street for the past few months. We’ve found them on a few young kids wandering the streets, unresponsive. They’re bondage charms.”
Rick banged his glass on the table, sloshing some of the liquid over the side. “Why didn’t you tell me? Damn it, Samuel. You knew I thought Scott had the girls. You might not have given a shit about them, but you should have told me about the charms. You owe me at least that much.”
He got up from the sofa and started to pace. Lips drawn into a tight line, he glared down at King with every pass. So we were back to animosity. Fabulous.
“There wasn’t anything to tell,” King said. “I wasn’t even sure that Scott Malone was involved. And when you came to me about the missing teens, I honestly thought they had just run off. You told me yourself, Molly had gone missing for weeks on two other occasions. Malone was always rounding up street kids to peddle his illegal goods. And when you said you’d tracked the girls back to him…I just assumed. But it’s also the reason I came here personally when I was notified of his death.”
He held Rick’s gaze for a long time. Understanding seemed to pass between them in the silence. After a few awkward seconds, he looked away and focused on his glass, swishing the Glenmorangie around. I didn’t need to read him to see how distressed he was over the girls. It was written all over his face.
His comment about Malone using street kids struck a chord. I had been right about the purple-haired kid at the club; I probably should have let King know about the encounter, but I didn’t. I needed to know more facts before I laid all my cards on the table.
Rick was the one who finally broke the quiet. “Malone was just a low-life hustler. He’s not talented enough to create charms that powerful. Who’s actually behind this?”
“We haven’t had much luck tracking down the source of the charms. The victims can’t tell us how they were enslaved. We’ve been chasing shadows for weeks,” King said.
“What do you mean, they weren’t able to tell you who enslaved them?” I asked. “How could they not know? Someone had to have been controlling the charms.”
King glanced my direction, as though just realizing I was still there. He turned back to his untouched drink, and I thought he was going to ignore my question. But then he took a big swallow and said, “We haven’t been able to remove the charms.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, you haven’t removed the charms?” I asked, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.
“Oh, we tried. The first girl we picked was sent through standard disenchantment. The backlash from the spell was so intense, two of my agents spent a week in the hospital.”
“What about Marcus? Did he have anything to say?” Rick had stopped his pacing and now leaned against the back of the sofa. His curiosity seemed to have overridden his earlier anger.
“Who’s Marcus?” I asked.
“He’s their resident charm expert,” Rick explained before turning his attention back to King. “Did he try to remove the charms?”
“After the backlash incident, he did. The magic was entwined with the girl’s aura. Marcus said he’d never seen anything like it before. When he remove the charm her aura was badly damaged, and she fell into a coma. We haven’t tried again.”
“So, what? You’re just leaving them like that?” I remembered Sarah’s soul, trapped and terrified.
“The Department has sent a request for help. An Order e
xpert has even lent assistance. We’ve got a few ideas but nothing concrete yet.”
“Molly has one of those charms. Does that mean…” I couldn’t ask the question.
“I’m sorry. The Order expert said the girls were lost. That the charm totally took over their auras, and we can’t get them back.”
“That’s not true. They can be released,” I said.
Now he was looking at me, eyes narrowing. “How do you know?”
I took a deep breath, preparing myself to lay everything on the table, when Charlie walked in. She looked as though she’d just finished a rotation in a trauma ward. Her usually tidy clothing was disheveled; the sleeves of her blouse were rolled up past her elbows, and dried flakes of blood clung to both blouse and pants. Her skin was bathed in sweat, hair pasted to her forehead, but she was smiling.
“She’s going to make it,” Charlie said.
“Do you need anything?” I asked as I got up, needing to assure myself Charlie was okay.
“I’m fine. You know how it is. A shower, some sleep, and I’ll be good as new. But I could use a drink.” She shot me a smile.
Taking the cue quickly, I fetched her favorite wine from the liquor cabinet and poured her some. I waved her over to join us and passed her the wine glass.
Charlie kicked off her shoes and sat on the arm of my chair, but when she looked around the room, her demeanor cooled. “So, am I interrupting something?”
“Ms. Harmon was about to tell us what she knows about the charms,” King said.
“Well, don’t let me interrupt.” In a low voice meant for me alone she said, “I’m going to get a shower. I’ve left the door open to your room, but the girl should sleep for at least the next eight hours. I’ll check on her again when I get out. She’s extremely lucky you found her when you did.” As she stood I gave Charlie a little nod, and I watched her head back to the bathroom.
After she had gone, I turned back to my audience. Well, here goes nothing. “Sarah Pickett was wearing one of the charms. When I examined her body, I discovered her soul trapped inside. Like you said, the charm had bonded with her aura, but I disenchanted the charm.”
“Did it lose power after Sarah died?” Rick asked.
“No. But I was able to break the enchantment and release her soul intact,” I stated matter of fact. “It wasn’t easy, but I was able to untangle the magic from her aura.”
They were both watching me now, waiting for me to explain further. I knew I’d have to tell them about the book, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I downed the last of my drink, despite my instincts—it was a terrible waste of a fine single malt—but I needed a little of the liquid courage.
“I can remove the charm from Molly,” I said at last.
“You removed the enchantment from Sarah after she was dead. What makes you think you can do the same for Molly?” Rick asked.
I had expected the question, but far more telling was King’s lack of surprise at my declaration.
“You’re exceedingly quiet, Agent King. What do you think? Do you think I can disenchant the charms?” I asked.
“I wasn’t sure. I was hoping to talk with you about it later,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “We guessed that an empath might be able to counter the magic, despite the fact everyone else had failed.”
“So you knew? You knew they were empath charms? Was that the real reason you came up here? To ask for my help or to accuse me?”
King shook his head and looked up at Rick. “No, I really did come up to investigate Scott Malone. But I’m not going to lie. I was going to ask for your help, but I wanted to see how you’d react to the charm first.”
“You asshole!” I stood, towering over him, and pointed an accusatory finger. “You just let me walk into this blind, knowing full well these charms have put witches in the hospital. What if you were wrong? What if they had the opposite effect?”
“Now hold on,” King said, hands up in defense. “I didn’t think you were in any danger. The enchantment should have lost its power after the girl died. To be honest, I figured you had some experience handling powerful charms, because of your father. Since we had a suspicion the charm was based in empathy, I wanted you to get an impression of the residual magic, without bias.”
This was more than I could handle in one night. I set down my glass and stalked out of the room, making my way back to the library. I was done. If I wanted to find out about these charms, I would have to do it myself. I found the small book I had chucked across the room earlier and thumbed through the pages. Toward the back, I located the entry I was looking for: Releasing the Bond. The chapter was short, and the steps seemed straightforward enough. I was on my second read when I heard the door open. Ignoring the intrusion, I continued reading until satisfied I’d gleaned all the information.
When I looked up, Charlie was waiting for me by the door. “You okay?” she asked.
“Me? I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I know fine. But you,” she waved her hand in my direction, “you most certainly are not fine. You’ve got a crazy look in your eye. If I know you, you’re about to do something incredibly stupid.”
I batted my eyelashes at her, feigning innocence. “Me? When have I ever done anything incredibly stupid? Wait.” I held up a hand and shook my head. “Please don’t answer that. Have you ever seen this?” I asked, handing her the leather-bound book.
She had studied in this library almost as long as I had. I wondered if she had seen it before. Charlie examined it.
“Where did you find this?”
“You didn’t answer my question. That book describes the charms used on those girls. Did you know it was here?” I snapped, more harshly than intended, but I was tired of feeling like everyone in the room knew more than me.
"I didn't know there was a book," she said. “But I did know about Thaddeus Harmon.”
“How did you know when I didn’t? I’m assuming he’s my relative; why didn’t Gran tell me there had been other empaths in the family?”
“I don’t think she meant to tell me. We were arguing and, well, I told her I thought you should go off to an academy to be trained.” Her expression softened. She walked over and laid a hand on my shoulder. “You were struggling, and I thought she was being unfair to keep you here. Gran said she wasn’t going to hand you over to the system. The last time a Harmon empath was trained by the Order it was disastrous. She told me about Thadeus and his involvement in the slave trade, but she made me swear never to speak of it again. You know I’d never lie to you, but I didn’t think it was good for you to know.”
I looked down at the carpet and rubbed my temple. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any worse. I wondered what was next. Maybe Spike would be possessed by a malevolent spirit bent on peeing in all my shoes, or the town would throw an old-fashioned witch burning with me as the guest of honor.
“Gods, Charlie. I know it’s not your fault, but that’s a lot to keep from me.” I exhaled slow and long, and looked up into her worried face. This was Gran’s doing, and I couldn’t stay mad at her. “I’m fine. I came in here to get away from the grim twins. I don't want to bring up old drama. I was hoping I could do something helpful. No, I know I can do something helpful. I can remove that charm.”
Charlie looked at the book in her hand and back to me. “This is some seriously dark magic. I don’t like the idea of you messing with it. The Order and the FPD have people that specialize in things like this. Let them handle it.”
“They haven’t been able to break the enchantments. But they didn’t have that book. And they didn’t have me.” My confidence returning—perhaps helped a little by the alcohol—I said, “I’m sure I can do it.”
She raised a few protests as she followed me back to the living room, but I had made up my mind. When we entered, Rick and King both turned to watch us. I knew they thought I had stormed off in a snit and was now back to play nice, but I walked right past them without saying a word, Charlie in tow, and went s
traight to my bedroom.
Molly was still sleeping, snug under my fluffy comforter. She looked so young and innocent in her slumber, the offending charm still hanging from her neck, and I knew I couldn’t let her stay imprisoned. She deserved a fighting chance at a normal life.
Charlie, Rick, and King all joined me in the room, and I realized I was going to have an audience. So be it. I turned back to Molly and gathered energy. No one said a word as I sat on the edge of the bed and hovered a hand just over the charm. I didn’t touch it. I didn’t want to find out what kind of kick I’d get from an active charm. So with my eyes closed, I sent out my sight.
Black tendrils of power wove in and out of Molly’s aura. The putrid energy flowed up and down her arms and legs, amassing around her head. It looked like a gruesome marionette hanging over her body. I could see why they’d had a hard time removing it.
I sent my power into the charm, anchoring it to the magic held within. Following one stream from the stone, I reached all the way to the terminus. After I was sure I’d found it all, I started pulling in the invading power, inch by inch as if I were reeling in a fishing line. I continued until I had untangled every bit of it from her aura. It was a slow, tedious process, but every time I tried to move faster a bit of the magic would escape and I’d have to start again.
Once I’d gathered all the energy into a ball, I severed its connection from the charm and absorbed it. The power settled deep in my chest. There was something familiar in its signature, but somehow wrong, like a well-loved song sung off key.
My head started to spin, and I felt drained. Something wasn’t right. Every muscle in my body tingled and tensed. The need to purge the incompatible power overwhelmed me suddenly, and it was pure luck that I managed to get to my feet and find the trashcan before I retched.
Rick was at my side in an instant, holding me steady. I could feel his cool hands against my forehead. “Just breathe. This will pass. Breathe,” he repeated.
Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 186
