Frozen: a ParaNormal Mystery (Cassie Scot Book 7)

by Christine Amsden

  “Let’s get you some avocado.” I bounced her and took her through to the dining room, where Matthew Blair was setting out a dish of Spanish rice on the oak table.

  I stopped short. I didn’t see Matthew often. For the longest time, Evan intentionally kept us apart, but since Kaitlin had started dating him, we’d come into one another’s orbits more often. Still, I couldn’t look at him and not remember that he’d once tried to reprogram my mind so I would marry him.

  I trusted Kaitlin; I loved my best friend, but I still only tolerated Matthew.

  “Hi, Cassie.” He smiled, an expression that transformed his face from attractive to warm and friendly. I actually smiled back, before catching myself and remembering he could read my mind.

  “Matthew,” Evan said from behind me.

  He put his arms around my waist in what I thought was an over-the-top mark of possession, especially since he was mad at me. I wrenched away from his grip, unwilling to humor him just then.

  “Evan,” Matthew said evenly. “I understand we’ve got some troubles. I’d like to talk about them over dinner. Informally, before we call a meeting of the White Guard.”

  I put Ana in the highchair Kaitlin had set out for her – Jay was in a booster chair nearby. While she played with some avocado, I helped Kaitlin bring two casserole dishes full of enchiladas out onto the dining room table. Evan and Matthew set out plates and forks and chatted about a new slave trading ring out of California that was giving them more trouble than usual because they had so few members there.

  My mom had come from California. And been drained of her magic there, before being sold. I’d relived the experience alongside her once, deeply connected to her thoughts and memories. But I still didn’t fully understand what was wrong now.

  Kaitlin dished up a whole enchilada and a healthy pile of rice for her son. I looked at him dubiously, but he dug into it with an appetite as advanced as his physical prowess.

  “It’s delicious, thanks,” I told Kaitlin when I dug into my own enchilada. “When did you have time to make this, looking after four kids?”

  “It was no problem. Juliana came to get the twins right after school, almost three hours ago.”

  “Are you watching them tomorrow?”

  “To the end of the week, for sure. After that, I’m hoping she finds someone else. The twins make me nervous.”

  “Why?” I asked sharply, offended on behalf of my youngest brother and sister. They’re a magical connection to Nadine and Jared, came a most unwelcome thought. But they couldn’t freeze people. Or make dense fog. And the Bakers had run, after all; they were the likelier suspects.

  “So, hell hounds,” Matthew said loudly, in an obvious bid to change the subject. “Tell me what’s going on in my town.”

  “Your town?” Evan arched an imperious eyebrow.

  “Sheriff Adams says he’s seen three of them, or seen the same one three times. We just saw it once.” Briefly I filled Matthew in on what had happened over the last couple of days and what we knew. Technically, I didn’t have to say anything. I could think it, and he could read my mind. But it felt weird thinking at him instead of speaking to him and anyway, I tried not to remember that he could read minds. It made it impossible not to think about the things I most didn’t want him to know. Such as the fact that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure everything I’d felt for him had been coerced. I wanted to think that; Evan certainly reinforced the idea every chance he got, but in my most honest moments, I couldn’t be so sure. Then Kaitlin had forced me to see a different side to him, one I probably would have been happier never to have seen.

  Damn, I’d just thought about it.

  “So what’s wrong with Michael and Maya?” I asked Kaitlin while Evan and Matthew chatted about meeting logistics.

  Kaitlin bit her lip and looked at Jay, who was trying to offer Ana some enchilada. She got her finger into some of the mildly spicy sauce and I stiffened, wondering what would happen. Ana lifted it to her mouth, licked it, and instantly made a gagging sound.

  “Uh oh.” I got to my feet and helped Ana wash the unwelcome taste from her mouth with some apple juice. When she was happy again, I returned to Kaitlin, who was being uncharacteristically reticent. Then again, she’d changed since she’d run away with a vampire and come home with a mind mage. She was still my best friend, but we were sort of rediscovering our roles in each other’s lives.

  “Never mind, forget it.”

  “Come on. You can’t just tell me you find my brother and sister creepy without explaining why.”

  She sighed. “They’re really attached to one another. I mean really attached.”

  “Juliana said the same thing.” I hesitated, thinking. “In a way, they’re the most consistent support they have. My mom was fine at first, checked out for months after dad died, then just when she started pulling herself together and being a real mom again, snapped and checked out entirely.”

  “How is your mom?” Kaitlin asked.

  “Not good.” I thought about what I’d seen that afternoon, and about the book I still had in the car. I hadn’t mentioned it to Evan yet, but I noticed Matthew turn to look askance at me as I remembered the title. Damn. Damn. Damn. One of these days, I had to figure out a way to block him. Aside from singing, “Mary Had a Little Lamb” inside my head every second I spent in his company.

  I also thought about what the sheriff had suggested. “Do you think someone or something could be making her act this way?”

  Kaitlin glanced at Matthew and I followed her gaze. But I knew what she was thinking, even if I couldn’t literally read her mind: The Blairs could work magic like that.

  Oh God, what if my mom’s been under attack for six months and nobody noticed because we were so mad at how she was behaving? Because we thought it was just part of her breakdown after Dad died?

  “Maybe you should get an empathic healer to look at her,” Kaitlin suggested.

  Matthew cleared his throat and when I looked his way, he nodded. “I know just the woman to help; she’s the best. Whether your mom’s under attack by internal or external demons, if anyone can help, she can.”

  I hesitated, remembering as if it were yesterday the way it had felt to be under the influence of a mind mage: Normal. Completely and utterly normal, as if every thought had come from my own mind rather than someone else’s.

  “I understand.” Matthew sighed. “Think about it, then. But don’t take too long.”

  Chapter 12

  EVAN WAS STILL MAD AT ME. He didn’t say so, but he didn’t come to bed with me, muttering something about having to do some research – I assumed into the mess I’d made.

  I set the dream catcher into place and tossed and turned for a bit, wondering as I did how we were going to create my dream child if we weren’t even speaking. It was supposed to happen tomorrow night, a mere twenty-four hours away. Just now those hours seemed simultaneously like forever and no time at all.

  Well, technically, we didn’t have to talk to make a baby… I had never imagined making love to Evan angry, but what choice did I have? Little Abigail’s life hung in the balance.

  I tried to recall everything I could about Abigail as I tossed and turned, but when I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of another child. This child was a boy, one who looked remarkably like his father. We named him Henry, after Henry Wolf, who beamed with pride the first time he held his namesake. Little Henry’s life expanded before me, beginning with him hiding behind my knee as a toddler. In school he was painfully shy and had trouble making friends. At home, however, he was the biggest sweetheart, always helping out, always with a kind word for his parents or siblings. He was clever and, as he grew into a man, quite as handsome as his father. That’s when the girls began to notice him. He noticed them too, but he was frightened of what happened when he kissed one.

  He hadn’t inherited his father’s power of telekinesis. But he had inherited another gift.

  When he graduated high school, he left Eagle Rock t
o tour Europe and uncover ancient secrets of magic that would help him understand the new magic better. He was gone for years, and when he returned it was with an enchanting witch on his arm. I didn’t like her at first, because how could she be good enough for my son? But she eventually enchanted me too, right around the time she gave birth to my first grandchild.

  I saw his life in reverse once again, seeing his first day of school, his first steps, his first word – mommy – and returning at last to the moment of his conception. A moment three days from now that would bring my beautiful son into the world. Evan and I had been too angry to make love until just that moment, the perfect moment to create my perfect sweetheart.

  * * *

  It was still dark when I woke, drenched in my own sweat as if I’d had some kind of nightmare. But of course, the dream catcher only allowed pleasant dreams to flow down to me at night, so that was impossible.

  Flinging out an arm, I found the mattress next to me cold and empty and I nearly cried at the absence of my usual rock. I needed him right now, though I couldn’t think why exactly. It had been a nice dream; I’d met my son. Gotten to know him. Just like I’d gotten to know Abigail …

  Something tightened in my chest and I closed my eyes, trying to unsee the life I’d seen. The soul. The perfect little boy. The perfect little girl.

  Choose, said some evil voice in my mind. Quickly mend fences with Evan to create your daughter, or delay to create your son. Which do you love more?

  I reached for my dream journal out of habit, but let my fingers fall away from it. First, I needed to get up. Change the sheets. Change my clothes. Find Evan. Definitely, find Evan.

  I found Evan sleeping in one of the guest rooms. I didn’t wake him, but instead watched the rise and fall of his chest for several minutes before returning to my dream journal, trying not to think about the reasons why he had chosen to stay away from me tonight.

  My hand shook as I wrote down every detail, somehow bringing my dream child more to life than he had already been. I stumbled over the concept of the new magic, which I’d run across in both dreams, but decided it didn’t matter right now.

  When I finished, I set the journal aside and checked my watch. It was near midnight, but I wanted to talk to someone. Needed to talk to someone. I considered going to Evan in the next room, but he had put that distance between us and I would have to bridge that gap before I could even begin to pour my heart out to him.

  Juliana often stayed up late, even if she shouldn’t. Even if she needed to get some sleep. She would take care of the family until they trickled off to bed, then still have homework to do at night.

  I felt more than a twinge of guilt at the idea of adding to that burden tonight, but I had to talk to her anyway. She and I needed a better plan of action to care for the family while Mom was checked out. Plus, there had been things left unsaid between us that morning.

  I threw on some sweats and an old pair of tennis shoes – seeing as how I’d lost the nice, new pair in the lake – and drove to the castle. The night was clear, the moon a bright sliver in the sky, but here on the ground the mist clung to everything. I shivered, feeling a sense of foreboding I found hard to ignore. I might not have intuition like Scott or the sheriff, but I did dream, even when I didn’t remember those dreams. Some part of my subconscious did recall, and, I often thought, warned me of impending danger.

  The castle was only about ten minutes from home. I parked in the front drive, stepped out of the car into the chilly night air, and took two steps toward the front door.

  I heard it before I saw it – a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere at once. I sensed something to my right, near the corner of the house, by the north tower where my old bedroom had been.

  I froze. Then, slowly, I turned. A pair of glowing red eyes peered at me through the mist, seemingly disembodied. But I had seen eyes exactly like that a couple of days ago, just before the hell hound had nearly killed Jim.

  The sheriff had said he’d seen one around the castle, but somehow I hadn’t believed it could be a danger to me. Not here, of all places, in my childhood home. Near my fortress of solitude – or what had once been my fortress of solitude before Elena had inherited the room and covered the jet-black décor with pure white.

  The dog was that black – as black as my walls had been. I had the brief, insane notion that somehow the old paint had come to life in the form of a dog. Then the growling rose in volume and I backed slowly toward my car, praying the hound wouldn’t attack. That I would be able to get inside before it moved.

  The thing ran like the wind. If it wanted me, I didn’t think I could stop it. The soft underbelly was its weakness, according to Henry Wolf, but if I could get to the soft underbelly then I would be between the monster’s massive paws, probably crushed in its jaws.

  “Nice dog,” I whispered. I’d only taken two steps away from the car, hadn’t I? It seemed to be taking more steps than that to get back. “Good dog. I’m just leaving.”

  I found the door handle and lifted. It was locked. I fumbled in my pocket for the keys, unlocking the door with a loud chirp that echoed through the night.

  The beast lunged. I screamed. Yanking up on the door handle, I threw myself inside, but the beast wedged its head into the gap before I could slam the door shut.

  Teeth sharp as knives pierced my left arm, just above the wrist. Pain slashed through me, radiating in waves to every part of my being.

  “Evan!” I cried. And then, suddenly, I remembered someone else who might help. Who might even be able to see from far away. “Christina!”

  Without warning, the jaw clamped around my arm let go and the hell hound disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

  I sat there for some time, too stunned to move, or even close the car door. What if it came back? What if I provoked it?

  It was the pain that snapped me out of my terror. I think maybe the adrenaline rush kept me from feeling its full effects at first, but suddenly it was there, and when I looked down I saw blood streaming from multiple puncture wounds along my arm, dripping and beginning to pool in the narrow space between my seat and the car door.

  I felt dizzy. Weak. Juliana could help in about a second, but I couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car. What if that thing came back? What if this was just a warning?

  I had no business driving home right now. I might black out at any moment from the pain or blood loss. But if I stayed here, frozen in indecision, I could die.

  I had to use my right arm to close the car door because the left simply refused. Then, without pausing to fasten my seat belt for the second time in three days, I floored the accelerator and tried to breathe through the pain as I traveled the familiar road toward home. Toward Evan.

  I more than half expected him to be outside waiting for me when I pulled into our driveway, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t read minds, or hear my long-distance call, not unless we arranged some kind of signal in advance. Spelled crystals had saved my life more than once, but I hadn’t even thought about them when I’d gone out tonight. How could I have known that a drive to my childhood home would put me in such danger?

  I had to kick open the car door and when I stood, I fell back to lean heavily against the side. It took a supreme effort of will to pull myself back off the car, stagger up the front steps, and stumble into the house.

  And there he was. At the top of the curved staircase, looking down at me, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Evan.

  “Help,” I said, sounding small even to myself.

  He was there so fast I knew he’d flown down the stairs. He could do that for short distances, levitate himself off the ground.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, then began muttering the incantation that would put me into a deep, healing sleep.

  * * *

  “You get yourself in more trouble than anyone has a right to survive.”

  I blinked my eyes open and stared at Evan, leaning over me. Morning sunlight framed his face, m
aking him look like he wore a halo, but he was no angel.

  “Good morning,” I mumbled.

  “That’s all you have to say for yourself? You ran off last night without even telling me you were leaving, or where you were going, and clearly it was someplace dangerous because you got your arm half chewed off!”

  I winced. He was mad at me again. Or still. Probably still.

  “I don’t need your permission to drive over to my mom’s.”

  The sunlight kept me from seeing his face, but I could almost feel a shift in his mood at those words.

  “You went to your mom’s house?”

  “Yeah. Just to my mom’s house. Thought I’d be gone less than an hour. Hell hound attacked.”

  “The sheriff said there was a hell hound around the castle. I didn’t take it seriously.”

  At least I hadn’t been the only one. I closed my eyes and felt for my left arm, where the thing had sliced its razor-sharp teeth into my flesh. The skin felt whole and unhurt, if a bit more tender than usual.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Evan asked.

  “Hungry,” I said. “But you knew that, because I smell bacon.”

  “Sit up. I’ll bring the tray over.”

  I propped myself up on some pillows while Evan floated a breakfast tray from the dresser to the bed, nestling it across my lap. He’d made bacon, eggs, pancakes, and orange juice. All my favorites.

  Maybe he wasn’t as mad as I’d thought. Maybe we could still fix this by tonight, so we could have Abigail. But then I’d lose Henry …

  “Where’s Ana?” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was almost eight o’clock.

  “She’s fine. Kaitlin took her early so you could sleep in and recover.”

  “I didn’t nurse her.” I always nursed her in the morning.

  “She did protest a bit, but she’s fine. She can miss a morning.”

  “You’re not going to make me stay in bed all day, are you?” I stabbed a forkful of pancake, trying to ignore the heavy, full feeling in my breasts.

  “I doubt I could.”