by Rain Oxford
“Sometimes,” she said with a sneer. “Alec! Get your ass out here!”
“Fuck off!” a boy yelled from somewhere in the house.
“He’s through there. You feds are allowed to beat the shit out of him, right?”
“That is not why we’re here,” Logan said.
“Well, you’re going to want to, and I’d sure as hell appreciate it if you do.” She stepped back and pointed to his room. Every surface in the living room was piled high with trash. A cat sitting on the torn up couch hissed at me. We walked around piles of trash to get to the boy’s room and knocked on the door.
“Go away!”
I rolled my eyes, opened the door, and ignored his shouts of protest. The room was worse than the living room. The boy sitting in front of his computer was dressed in cheap black leather. “Are you Alec?” I asked.
He grinned. “Why do you want to know?” I could smell lust on him, but it might have been because I was interrupting his porno.
“You haven’t been to school for a week,” I said.
“So? I don’t want to go and nobody can make me go.”
“Okay.” Logan was already leaving.
“That’s it?” Alec asked as I walked out of his room. I ignored him.
“Well, that was a waste of time,” Logan said when I joined him outside.
* * *
When we knocked on Tamara Pierson’s door, a man answered. “Can I help you?” he asked, irritated.
Logan revealed his badge. “Are you Tamara Pierson’s father?”
“Yes. What of it?”
“She hasn’t been to school in over a week.”
“It doesn’t concern you. Go away.”
With a sigh, I grabbed the front of his shirt. He looked into my eyes automatically and his surprise quickly faded. “Tell me where Tamara is.”
“With her mother,” he said.
“Why aren’t they here?”
“I used to only beat my wife, but two weeks ago, Tamara tried to stick up for her mother, so I beat her, too. They left.”
I pushed him away. “For fuck’s sake. Are all the parents in small towns pure crap?”
“No,” Logan said as we left. “Do you shove people around like that often?”
“I own a bar, so yes, I do.”
“I might need to come visit some time.”
* * *
The next child on the list was a fourteen-year-old named Peter Bowen. When a middle-aged woman answered the door, Logan already had his badge out. “Can I help you?”
“Are you the mother of Peter Bowen?”
“Yes. Is he in trouble?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out. He has missed eight consecutive school days.”
She frowned. “He has? They haven’t called me.”
“He’s safe, then?” Logan asked.
“Of course he is. She leaned back and yelled her son’s name. There was no answer. After a moment, she shrugged. “He must still be at his brother’s house.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
She considered it. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s been a while. I think… a week maybe? Two?”
“How do you not know?”
She shrugged again. “He prefers his brother’s house.”
“You don’t check in on him?”
“I trust him. He’s a good kid.”
Deimos pushed open the door and passed her. I sighed. Logan, the woman, and I followed Deimos into the kid’s room. The room was full of Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who paraphernalia. In fact, his ceiling was painted to look like a night sky. In the middle of his room was a tent, which Deimos sniffed furiously. I pushed him aside and unzipped it.
“No,” I said when he started to go in. There were blankets and pillows inside, but no blood or signs of witchcraft. “Do you feel magic?” I asked Logan.
“Yes.” Logan circled the tent slowly and then crouched in front of it. “This is extremely powerful magic. The kid was taken here.”
“What do you mean?” the mother asked.
“Call your son and ask him when he last saw Peter,” I said as I checked the windows, which were closed and locked. I checked the rest of the room and under the bed after she left. “Why was there a witchcraft doll and coin at Lilly’s house, and no evidence at any other location? Other than the sensation of magic and some blood, there was nothing.”
“Aside from Rome’s mother, only children have gone missing so far. She was also the only one to shed blood that we know of.”
“You have a theory then?”
“I think someone is taking the kids and sacrificing them.”
“Kyle hasn’t seen Peter in two weeks,” the woman said frantically, running back into the room. Although I didn’t smell as much fear or desperation in her as I expected, I also didn’t pick up any deception.
* * *
A third grader named Jeana was last on the list. Her attendance up until that point had been perfect. When no one answered the door, I broke the lock. Logan and I searched the house. Other than the full glass of wine on the bedside table in the master bedroom, it looked like they had just left and not come home. Logan also sensed more magic all over the house.
The atmosphere as we walked back to the motel was negative. “I think Dr. Brian was going after people who wouldn’t be missed. When Jeana and Rome’s parents got in the way, they were taken as well.”
“Lilly doesn’t fit that description. Her mother is extremely overprotective.”
“Maybe the counselor didn’t know that. If I had his files, I could find that out in a matter of minutes. On the other hand, Lilly might have written something about him. I need to check her room again.”
“I will do that in the morning. If I find anything, I’ll bring it to you.”
Oh, yeah, that’s not suspicious at all. “What I don’t get is why this person is after me.”
“Then drop it. Take that out of the equation.”
“Don’t be silly, Logan. That’s not how investigations work.”
“I’m never silly, Ms. Ares.”
“Unless a dog is involved.”
“Is that what you call your fluffy little puppy?” he asked. Phobos gagged and Deimos made a huffing noise that was his version of laughter.
I rolled my eyes. “It could be possible that the person working with Dr. Brian saw me and is messing with me to throw me off.”
“Did you lose any personal items between the time you arrived and the incident in the diner?”
“No. Why?”
“No reason.” His phone rang and he answered it. “This is Logan Wayne.” A woman spoke, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying.
He was so frustrating. I checked my own phone and saw there were no messages. At this rate, I wasn’t certain I would get an answer on the coin at all. I wasn’t a cop or investigator, but even I knew the lack of evidence was strange.
Logan hung up. “Another child was just attacked and sent to the hospital, supposedly by an invisible attacker.”
Chapter 6
We took Deimos and Phobos back to the motel before driving to the hospital. I failed to completely hide my grimace as we pulled into the parking lot. Apparently, Logan noticed. “Not a fan of hospitals, Ms. Ares?”
“Is anyone? I can smell human emotion; all hospitals stink of misery. Not to mention the blood everywhere.”
“Doesn’t blood smell good to you?”
I laughed. “You really don’t know much about vampires. Blood smells metallic. Also, I can’t smell the difference between one person’s blood and another’s, but I can smell if there’s something wrong with a person’s blood.”
“Can you get a disease from humans?”
“No, my immune system is too strong.”
“What about poison?” he asked as we got out of the car.
Vampires could be poisoned if it was mixed into our blood, but there was no way in hell I was telling him that. “T
rying to poison a vampire would not turn out well for you.”
He smirked. “Threat acknowledged. I just like to be informed, and I do, on occasion, make deals with vampires.”
“Do they often double-cross you or something?”
“No, nothing like that. No one breaks a deal with me. People who come to me know better.”
“Well, that is more than vaguely ominous.”
We reached the front desk at that point, where a receptionist sat at a computer. Logan showed her his badge. “We need to see Micah Montgomery.”
She didn’t even have to look it up on the computer. “He’s in Room 245. Second floor, last door on the right. Is everything okay?” she asked, concerned.
“We will let you know if we need anything else.” Logan put his badge away and we headed for the elevator. Once the doors closed, he said, “If we want to continue using the badge, you need to dress more professionally and less like… well, a vampire.”
“I think I’ll dress how I want, thanks. If someone has a problem with it, I’ll deal with them.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. It just makes the investigation a little more interesting.” Maybe his herbs were wearing off or maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I smelled lust on him.
We found the room easily. I knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an invitation. The room was sterile and cold. In the bed was a fifteen-year-old, somewhat gangly boy with brown hair and eyes. Although he was mostly covered in the white hospital blanket, I didn’t see any signs of an injury, and he definitely wasn’t bleeding.
A similar-looking woman sat in the chair next to him. Logan presented the badge to her. “My name is Logan Wayne and this is Aurora. We need to ask your son a few questions.”
“The police have already talked to him.”
“We’re not the police.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll tell them the same thing I told the cops,” Micah said. “Can you get me a juice?” The woman nodded, stood, and walked out.
“Can you describe the man who attacked you?” Logan asked him.
“It wasn’t a man. It was a monster.”
“A monster?”
“My mom doesn’t believe me and neither do the cops. Is that why you’re here? Do you believe me?”
I sat on the bed next to him and leaned over him to speak softly. “I always know when people are telling me the truth.” That wasn’t exactly true. I could smell guilt or shame in a person and there were numerous physical tells, but there was nothing that could detect a lie when the person thought they were telling the truth. “I also believe in magic and monsters. Tell me what happened.”
“I started seeing things a couple of weeks ago. Like, lights started flickering and the air would get really cold. Sometimes, I felt like something was reaching for me. Sometimes I saw…”
“What did you see?” I asked when he got quiet.
“I would look at someone and see something very strange in their faces. Some people were really pretty, and others were hideous. But that was just in the last few days. When it came for me… I was in my room.”
“Now, you say it came for you. Was it some kind of curse?”
“No. It was a monster. It came in through the closet.”
“What did it look like?”
He shrugged. “Kind of a dark blur. It moved too fast.”
“How did you survive?”
“I grabbed a flare.”
“Like a road flare? Why did you have one of those in your room?”
“Um… it wasn’t in my room. It was in the car.”
He was lying. “Did you stab the monster with it?”
“No. As soon as I lit the flare, the monster made a… noise… like it was in pain… and then it ran out of the room. I chased it halfway through the house.”
“You chased the monster?”
“It didn’t like the road flare.”
I stood up right before the mother returned with her son’s juice. “I think we have everything we need,” Logan said, pulling a card out of his inside pocket. “Thank you for your time. If you remember anything else, call us. We will contact you again if we have any further questions.” We left. “You didn’t use your thrall on him,” he said as we got back in the elevator.
“No. I rarely do with children.”
“So, it’s not witchcraft, it’s a creature of magic.”
“It could be a creature that is being conjured by witchcraft.”
“I don’t like the witchcraft angle,” he said.
“Dr. Brian had books and supplies, and there was that doll under Lilly’s bed.”
“I still feel like it’s unrelated. For one thing, cursing someone in this fashion is contagion magic. In other words, they would need blood, hair, skin, nails, or such from every victim. You were inflicted soon after arrival, assuming what you saw at the diner was actually part of this.”
“I don’t see how it could be anything else.”
“Has anyone gotten close enough to you to collect a sample?”
“No one except you. Alright, we’ll focus on what we do know. It’s most likely a creature of some kind, something paranormal. It’s afraid of a flare, either because of the heat or the light. Since people keep saying their lights have gone out about the time of the disappearance, I’m going to bet on it being the light.”
“It makes sense that the creature would want the lights out if light hurts it, and there are quite a few myths and legends of creatures that are harmed by light. Furthermore, most creatures of magic can affect electricity the same way wizards can.”
“The students are definitely not being taken at random. Dr. Brian chose which kids to take, and he said he was working with someone.” I carefully considered the conversation as we headed back to the car. “Actually, he could have been talking about the creature. Once the lights started flickering, he asked me to protect him. It could be that the creature killed him.”
“If that’s the case, then this creature might have been controlling Dr. Brian instead of the other way around. The creature could have been using him to choose victims for it.”
“Since it took the creature at least a week from the time they were targeted to the time they were taken, I think it’s safe to assume Dr. Brian chose Micah before his death.”
“Or now that he’s dead, the creature may be taking them at random and not messing around like before.”
“Or, are we barking up the wrong tree? I get that the creature could be trying to scare me away or lead me in the wrong direction on the case, but why would it be messing with the children the same way? From what we’ve learned, it’s doing the same thing to them?”
“Maybe it’s playing with its food.”
“There’s no proof that Brian didn’t have an accomplice who is conjuring the creature.”
“We don’t need proof; we need to kill the person, people, or thing behind this.”
I didn’t know many humans who were so nonchalant about murder. “You’re right. I don’t think Micah is safe; I expect the creature to try again.”
“I sure hope so. We now have an idea of how to defeat it and bait to draw the creature where we want it. By the way, you don’t have issues with the immorality of that, do you?”
“Why would I?”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Next time, use your thrall on him. He was lying about the flare being in his room.”
“I know.”
“Why would he tell the truth about the rest of it and lie about something so small.”
“Unless it’s not so small. If I had just used my thrall, he probably wouldn’t have said anything, or he would have said it differently. The thrall controls a person’s mind, thoughts, memories, and such. For example, when I make someone unable to lie, it shuts down certain parts of their brain that enable them to lie. When I tell them they have to tell the truth, it shuts down a lot more, like their ability to differentiate between important and trivial information. Strong emoti
ons, especially fear, can hinder or even break the thrall.”
“That makes sense; fear shuts down parts of the brain and activates others.”
“If it comes down to self-preservation versus the thrall, self-preservation is usually going to win.”
“So you can’t make a human kill himself.”
“Not if he’s terrified. I try to come up with ways to get answers I need with the least amount of restrictions.”
He nodded. “Good to know. Have Deimos and Phobos eaten yet today?”
“No.”
“Do you want to stop somewhere or order something?”
“The boys will be happy with steak or pizza, so what do you want?”
“A burger.”
“There’s a diner up the road.”
“Tell me what happened when you left Stephen’s coven.”
* * *
My life would have turned out very different had I stayed at the coven. I got by for a month before I came home one night to find an envelope on my desk. My apartment had been broken into twice, but the lock wasn’t damaged this time. Astrid was the only person I had given a key to. The envelope contained a handwritten letter and a map.
Aurora,
We have found your father. He is safe for the moment, but it is only a matter of time before the wizards find him and I cannot be sure what they’ll do. Since he’s outside of my territory, I need you to bring him here if you want our protection.
Good luck
Stephen
The map covered most of Michigan and a red “x” marked a spot in a forest. Between the unbroken lock and the fact that I recognized the handwriting, I didn’t question it. After eight years of searching for my father, I felt like I couldn’t wait another day. Nevertheless, it still took me a week to reach the address via buses and hitchhiking. A man dropped me off in front of a narrow dirt road that disappeared into the forest. “This is it,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, getting out of his truck. I didn’t remember the man’s name, despite the fact that he had saved me days of walking. I followed the road to a small cabin. When I saw a camouflaged Jeep parked beside the cabin, I hid behind a tree. My father hated driving, and if he lived out here on his own, he wouldn’t have a vehicle.
