Magic Rising

by Jennifer Cloud

  He can’t hurt me. Their magic couldn’t have been real.

  She rose, moving quickly around the building. There was no sign of Niam but she felt him. Evil clung wherever he went, hanging on the air like some thick smog that made it harder to breathe.

  At the corner, she thought she would find an easy escape until she saw her car. There he stood, leaning on the hood while instructing some very large, very bad looking men. As she studied them, she noticed the zits, the young gawking expressions. These weren’t even men, but some very large version of teenagers.

  Her heart sank as she watched them. Another group must’ve formed after Stone House burned. These couldn’t have been born into a cult, but brought in later. Odds were their skill level would be low.

  Why would anyone want to live like that? She often wondered why her mother had brought her into such circumstance. Most of the sad wanderers who ended up at Stone House were rejects of society, willing to do anything for purpose or just to belong. Some had chemical imbalances causing mental disorders, a few were abused runaways, and all were welcome. All could have a purpose, even if that purpose was to die.

  It was horrible to think Niam had started a new group. She supposed if any of the leaders survived, they would try again to form a perfect religion, a privately controlled force. Ambition doesn’t die with a building.

  One of the teens left the group, walking toward her and the woods. This was her chance and she waited to take him. When he stepped around the corner, she reached from behind the inset of rock and grabbed him. The action was quick, one hand covering his mouth, bending his head low, while she pressed the painful area just behind his jaw. He didn’t have time to consider hitting her. The pain was fast and severe enough that he didn’t have the chance to struggle. His eyes scrunched, tears filled them. He had a low tolerance for pain. Obviously he hadn’t been trained very long.

  Once she had his face toward the building, she pressed him against the stone. Deirdre kept her knee at the back of his legs to alleviate any chance of him breaking the hold and escaping. She caught a strange odor coming off of him. It wasn’t sweat, something foreign, meth she thought, but couldn’t be certain.

  So that’s how Niam controlled the new crop. Drugs.

  “Listen carefully. If you want to live, call in and tell them that you’ve seen a woman…no make it a girl running inside the building. Say the exact words.” She squeezed tighter. “Rehearse it now.”

  “No I can’t.” He squealed under her grip. “The reverend will get angry.”

  “Believe me. The reverend will know you were coerced. Now say it. You saw a girl running inside the building. Say it and I’ll let you live.”

  “I saw a girl run inside the building.” His words weren’t clear from the pressure against his jaw.

  “That’s it. Say no more, no less. If you say one word differently, you’ll die.”

  He squirmed, testing her. It was one of the reasons she kept at his back, out of sight. She was small and seemingly easy to challenge. Underestimating her made things messy and she didn’t have time for messy. She also didn’t have his hands confined, which could prove dangerous if the kid had been properly trained.

  With joint pressure, the pain could be exquisite, not intolerable and the longer she held it, the more his resistance would build. Thankfully, this was also one of those bulky boys who worked out with no purpose. His arms had little reach, and no agility. He couldn’t reach her from behind. In fact, she doubted he could properly walk with both arms by his side.

  To ease his squirming, she raised her knee higher, pressing her thigh against his ass and bringing her knee between his legs. She caught his groin from behind, not enough to make him a soprano, but enough to make him gasp in discomfort. His struggles instantly ceased.

  “You must be a new recruit. Usually Niam makes men adjust to this kind of pain.” She brought her knee tighter. “Now are you going to do as I ask?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do it now.” She kept her knee at his groin but eased on the jaw.

  The teenager took the radio from his belt, speaking quickly. “I saw a girl run inside the building.”

  The radio instantly went crazy. Niam came on, followed by another teenage voice. She didn’t let the kid say another word. With her knee still in place, she took the radio from his hand. The kid was scared or coming down from some ridiculous high. Beads of sweat dripped from his hairline, running in salty lines to his throat.

  “You did well.” She paused, letting him have a moment of relief. “Thank you, and goodnight.” In one swift motion, she slammed his head into the rock in front of him. The boy stumbled for a moment, then dropped to his knees. He would be okay in a few hours but for now, he was out of the way.

  Deirdre went back toward her car. Niam had taken the bait. She walked forward, clicking the car locks and opening the door when two hands reached from beneath the car, knocking her off her feet. Apparently, Niam hadn’t been so easily fooled.

  She landed on her ass as another freakishly large teenager crawled from beneath her car. His upper body started sliding from beneath and she was on her feet, landing both heels between his shoulder blades, then placing two hard kicks to the back of his head. He let out a yelp, and then went silent. Unfortunately, if she got in her car and drove away, she would run over the jerk.

  Her one unforgivable fault haunted her, even now. She’d broken one of Stone House’s most important rules. Be ready to kill. She was never ready to kill, except for Midnight.

  Deirdre grabbed the lummox by the wrists and dragged him from beneath the car. He was heavy and it took a few moments to clear him from the vehicle. That seemed to be Niam’s plan.

  She opened the car door and slid inside as the black clad demon appeared from the broken front of the building. He came at her, charging, running to his target. Deirdre was surprised to find fear rattling her. For a split second, all she could do was stare, like the scared child he’d intimidated so many times. Her mind broke, action taking the place of panic. She missed the ignition on the first try with the key, then jammed it into place. It was all the time he needed to reach the car. His hand reached out, turning into a fist in mid air as the engine roared to life and time seemed to stop. It was clear, he intended to break the glass and jerk her out. She readied to hear the sound of glass shattering, see that gloved hand reaching into her hair. He would do unspeakable things to her back inside Stone House. Oh, he would take her back inside. He would make her suffer, whip her, burn her.

  His fist struck.

  Chapter Eight

  In the darkness, only the light from the monitors could be seen, some flickered with information. Tech sat in front of these, fixated by a newspaper photograph of Stone House. Large chunks of the building had fallen while a team of firefighters were spraying a towering inferno. The fixed black and white picture hinted at the destruction with terrible large pixels, leaving much to blackness.

  The article mentioned hundreds of bodies found inside. A hundred burned to death, two hundred more died of smoke inhalation, and ninety looked to have been trampled to death while trying to escape from behind a locked door. The shocking part of the article listed the fifty dead bodies found in the basement. Not a single injury marred their corpses, but they were dead. An investigation was being conducted, or so the ten-year-old article said. The owner of the house had been sought, but so far the place could only be connected with an overseas company and they were unavailable for comment.

  “Hey Sabrine? What do you know about Deirdre’s past?” He glanced over at her. She lounged in only her panties. Her breasts bare, and her unashamed, letting him ogle her in their private moments. Sabrine was the most perfect woman he had ever met, muscular, but feminine, smart, strong, but not intimidating.

  The scent of their sex hung in the air like a sweet aphrodisiac making him want more. There was work to do though, work that remained second only to his sweet Sabrine.

  “I know enough not to ask about i
t.” She smiled, white teeth shone in a tan face. The monitors lit her body like some seductress come to life from a man’s most fantastic dreams.

  She got up, walked toward him and stared at the screens, completely oblivious to her naked body. He wasn’t oblivious. Every move of those delicious breasts sent him into overdrive. He still couldn’t believe this goddess was his girlfriend. He was a nerd, a techno geek. She understood and even loved him for it.

  “Why do you ask?”

  He tried to focus on his job and not that delightful body. “Deirdre wanted me to investigate that officer from last night, Ryan Farmer. The guy’s been busy tracking down Deirdre’s past. He spent a lot of time checking out some weird-ass building in the middle of nowhere called Stone House.”

  “So. Maybe Deirdre knows about it. Ask her.”

  “She told me a little but I can tell there’s more.” He looked at her again, taking in the gentle curve of her hip. “I thought since you two were best friends that she might’ve mentioned something to you.”

  “Deirdre may be my friend but there’s something nasty in her past. If she feels like talking to me about it, great. Until then, I’m not going to pry.” She smiled at him in that way that made him believe he was the only guy in the world. “I don’t want one of her skeletons finding me. I’m willing to guess that would be one mean motherfucker.” She reached over and ruffled his hair. “She’ll answer questions if they concern a case. Ask her.”

  He considered that, but there was more to it. Deirdre kept her past private. She was a great boss, always paid on time, gave bonuses. There was an unspoken rule about her though, don’t ask anything personal.

  “She also wanted me to check out Lora Shope. I believe she’s Tamara Haas’ daughter.”

  “Weird. Why would a movie star hire a private firm to handle an ex-husband and lie about it? That doesn’t make any sense. She didn’t file kidnapping charges or anything.”

  “There’s more. Tamara Haas was Tamara Colinster, the daughter of the man who owns Stone House.” He looked back at the screen, staring at the broken building.

  “Okay, you just made a giant loop. I’m confused.”

  “Somehow Deirdre, Tamara Haas, and Detective Ryan Farmer all have this one building in common.”

  They both stared at it, as if waiting for some new clue to appear on the screen instead of a frame showing a building burning down to the ground. Sabrine, reached over, scrolling through the story. Usually Tech hated that, but Sabrine was one of the smartest ladies he ever met. She might pick out something he overlooked.

  “They said the cause of the fire was arson, but an article a few days later stated the fire was caused by a gas leak. No charges were filed.” Tech couldn’t figure it out.

  “Let’s see, a detective, our boss, and a movie star. Maybe Deirdre burned the place and the detective is trying to prove it.” She kept a steady gaze at the screen.

  “Doubtful. This happened ten years ago. Deirdre would’ve been a teenager. This wasn’t set by some amateur kid out for revenge. The report lists explosions took place at the front entrance and inside. I don’t think a sixteen year old could get that kind of stuff or would know where to place the charges.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it was a gas leak.”

  “I seriously doubt it.”

  Sabrine leaned over and grabbed his bottle off the table, taking a long sip of his water. “I can’t imagine Deirdre not knowing anything. I bet she was even dangerous as a child.” The phrase would’ve been insulting but Tech knew that Sabrine meant it in amazement, and respect.

  Tech wasn’t so sure about Deirdre’s lethal capabilities. He saw the videos, watched from a safe distance while everyone’s emotions ran high in the action. Deirdre never seriously harmed anyone. In fact, he was convinced the way she reacted quickly to take down a threat was to keep a situation under control. A man in pain wouldn’t have to be killed, although, from her moves, he was sure she could kill if necessary.

  “Has she ever mentioned her family?”

  Sabrine shrugged. “Her mother died and I don’t think she knows her father. It bothers her to talk about it, so I don’t.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “What did you do?”

  Everyone on the team knew he was a snoop. Before Sabrine, the computer was his biggest social connection and he used it like a voyeur looking for interesting lives to uncover. One of the most interesting and illusive people was Deirdre.

  “Promise not to tell Deirdre?”

  She raised her eyebrow. Sabrine and Deirdre were close, Tech knew it. There were probably things Sabrine knew that she would never tell him. He didn’t need her to. He had his computer, but this time he needed her silence.

  “Okay. Our secret. Now tell.” Sabrine leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms under her breasts.

  “Haven’t you ever wondered how a woman like Deirdre knows so much? She’s got the strength of a man, martial arts skill, an excellent shooting eye, and great strategic planning. It’s like she was raised for warfare but she’s never been in the military.”

  “Your point?” She sneered at him. “By the way, you’ll pay for that strength of a man comment.”

  “Sorry but you know what I mean.”

  “Keep going.”

  He took a deep breath, wondering how much to confess and what would make it back to their boss. Deirdre had little out there to find, but Tech was persistent. He could also hack into any computer system, any of them. It took all his skills to find Deirdre. She didn’t have a father listed on her birth certificate, but she had a mother. That’s where Tech had concentrated his search.

  “Her mother, Aidena Flye, was quite impressive. The lady graduated Valedictorian from Boston University and had achieved black belts in nearly every type of martial arts in existence, including various sword play and miscellaneous weapons training. She worked closely with the Navy Seals during a hostage rescue in South America. It seems that she was recruited by the FBI in 1975. The records get sketchy until 1978 when she made the newspapers for fleeing the scene of an accident. Nothing else could be found until the birth of Deirdre.”

  “And? Come on. I’m waiting.”

  “Aidena, Deirdre’s mother, had charges filed against her from the state for child endangerment and attempted murder. From the date, Deirdre had to be an infant.”

  “Brutal.” Sabrine shook her head. Tech knew the one thing that got under her skin was harming a child. It was the one unforgivable sin.

  “Thing is, all the charges were dropped. There was no more contact from social services and not another record appeared until Deirdre applied for her social security card. It was like the two of them dropped off the planet.”

  “From FBI to criminal. Damn. No wonder Deirdre is so messed up.” Sabrine shook her head again. “Deirdre always seems emotionally distant. I’m not even sure she knows how to function outside of a case situation. I mean, we’ve gone out on the town, but she never talks about her past. Never. I don’t even think she really relaxes.”

  There was more but he didn’t want to show Sabrine how far his digging had gone. They were still new, in that hopefully romantic stage he heard so much about. He didn’t want to ruin that by showing her the extent of his hobby. Still, he had to tell her more.

  “I think that place was the center for some kind of terrorist training or something. I’m not sure. There’s only one record of a kid who escaped when he was fifteen. He’d been sleeping on the streets when the cops stopped him. They took a short statement about some training camp called Stone House. According to the incident report, he was shot while trying to escape custody.”

  “Was he arrested near here?”

  “No, up north. He didn’t give a real name to the police. The statement listed him as a Caucasian going by the alias Tiger. The case was buried. There are no follow-up reports.”

  Sabrine seemed to consider all these things. Her brows scrunched together. It seemed her employer’s difficult
ies bothered her too much and as usual, she buried anything too troublesome.

  “Alright Tech, tell me. Have you done any research on me?” She casually switched topics.

  He felt his cheeks heat. “The day I met you, I started researching you.” He had studied her, downloaded her college photograph. She became a mild obsession.

  “What did you find out?” She touched his leg and he thought he might go crazy on the spot.

  “That I’d rather get to know the real thing instead of a compilation of computer generated facts.” He leaned over and kissed her. “I don’t know why you’re with me but I’m glad you are.”

  He reached for her, touching her soft breasts, grateful when he heard the aroused moan from her lips. Sabrine was the most perfect woman and she was his.

  Chapter Nine

  It had been a long drive out of that hell hole. Niam left Deirdre a message in the form of the old drunk man pinned by several arrows to the front door of the dormitory near Stone House. The poor old man’s eyes were still open staring out at the road, his arms, lifeless at his side. He didn’t look real at all, just some strange target Niam had used.

  She could still hear Niam’s voice, his screams of frustration. He’d been close when she pulled away, close enough to glimpse those crazed eyes and his hair blow back as he worked to strike at her. His first punch missed the glass, but caused a nasty dent just behind the door.

  Deirdre was still shaken but had managed to stop for Chinese food before going to Tech’s place downtown. It was the least she could do for putting so much on him lately. Of course, now she was stuck holding a paper bag filled with little white containers while he boned Sabrine.

  The food would be cold soon. She’d been standing outside the door listening. It was rude and under normal circumstances, she never would’ve done it, but just before she knocked on his home office door, she heard him telling Sabrine about her mother.