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Reach for You

Page 5

by Pat Esden


  Horror knifed me in the chest and I clenched my teeth until it hurt. I was such an idiot. If Chase’s desire to be with me had allowed him to reach across the veil, it wasn’t something that I should have encouraged. It meant, possibly, that he was succumbing to the change. Of all the fears I had about him being trapped in the djinn realm, dying wasn’t the worst. It was that his hormones would become too powerful and he’d lose control over himself, and go berserk. Chase was at the age where genies and half genies matured, gaining powers and strength. Sex, fighting, anything that affected his testosterone level or brought on a surge of adrenaline could stimulate that change. When the change occurred, all genies went through a phase of fearless rage and indifference that was a lot like battle-frenzy. It lasted a few moments or one night at the most, except for half-ifrit genies like Chase. Most of them never came down from that stage. They went berserk and were kept in the lowest level of Malphic’s fortress, where they were allowed out for fights or to wander the desert at night, full of nothing except rage and bloodlust. Killers, who sometimes became so uncontrollable that Malphic had their life energy drained until they faded and died. I couldn’t begin to guess why Malphic would want to push his own son over that edge. But there was no doubt Chase was on the cusp, and I needed to do whatever I could to protect him.

  I looked up, blinking against the rain, feeling its chill rushing down my face and neck. I needed to do everything I could to help Chase stay calm and resist the change until we could find Lotli, go back to the realm, and free him. If we could get him home in time, maybe Grandfather and Kate would be able to help him through the change intact. I didn’t want to lose him. But more than that, I couldn’t bear the thought of him losing himself and becoming nothing but a deranged killer. The Chase I knew was kind and generous. The Chase I loved was gentle and sweet. I had to reach him before he went berserk.

  Another thought touched my mind, lightening the weight of my terror for a moment. If what I’d experienced was real and not a dream, then Chase was alive and sane enough to remember me. For now, at least.

  But what about the blood?

  There had been so much of it.

  What if he’d chanced coming to me to say good-bye?

  What if he was on the cusp of death as well as the change?

  CHAPTER 6

  None is harder to forgive than thyself.

  —Epitaph: Henry Freemont’s gravestone

  The fear I felt for Chase consumed me all the way back to the ATV, and on the dark and rain-driven ride home. But once I’d parked in the garage and put the keys away, my exhaustion took over and my doubts surfaced.

  The truth was, the blood I thought I’d seen on my fingertips could have been red sand or dirt from the rocks, or simply part of the dream that my overtired brain had made seem real. It was easy to understand how I might dream about Chase, see his glittering aura. I’d had dreams like that before. In reality, I wasn’t just exhausted. I was woozy with the need for sleep, my poor body begging for me to lay still.

  I slogged up to my room, stripped off my rain-soaked clothes, and slumped into a warm bath.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning to a sun-brightened room. It had to be after eight o’clock and I’d intended to get up early, since there was the remote possibility that Dad, Grandfather, and Uncle David had gotten home at some point in the night.

  My leg muscles resisted as I climbed out of bed. The bruises on my arms from being thrown out of the realm had turned a darker shade of purple. I had an awful crick in my neck. As much as I wanted to check my phone, I needed to get rid of my aches and pains first.

  I staggered to the bathroom, took out my stash of extra-potent willow bark from the medicine cabinet, and popped a strip into my mouth. It was bitter, slippery, and anesthetized my tongue. But I wasn’t worried about it causing side effects, like I had been when I first tried it. That time, Selena had dragged me into the solarium and randomly peeled a sliver of bark off one of Kate’s experimental willows. She’d all but begged for me to try, swearing it would cure my headache in no time flat. I’d been hesitant, to say the least. Later, I even convinced myself that chewing it had caused me to hallucinate a shadow-genie in the gallery. But in the end, the shadow-genie turned out to be real and the willow proved to be a wonder drug—if taken in moderation.

  As the willow worked its magic on my aches, I settled down in a chair beside the window with my phone. My heart sank when I didn’t see a text from Dad. There was, however, an e-mail and information packet from Sotheby’s about the course in London I’d signed up to take this fall. Damn it. I had enough to think about right now without worrying about that. Sure, I should have been thrilled. I’d dreamed about taking one of their courses for years. It was an important step toward me becoming a certified fine arts appraiser. London. By myself. Why wouldn’t I be excited?

  Maybe because I’d rather spend that time with Chase—if we could get him back.

  And my mother. I’d been five years old when Malphic kidnapped her. I wanted time to be with her. And Selena. And Kate, her respect didn’t come easy, but it felt good.

  Tension pinched behind my eyes. And I moved on to the next e-mail—

  “What the hell?” I doubled-checked the sender. I couldn’t believe it. It was from Taj.

  Since our falling out, I’d only been in touch with him once, last month—and that had been an even worse disaster. It was when Dad and I had first returned to Moonhill and Dad was possessed by the genie Culus. I’d put my pride aside and asked Taj to translate a mysterious inscription on a ring that was involved. Taj pretty much accused Dad and me of stealing the ring from the Metropolitan. I had never expected to hear from him again.

  I opened the e-mail.

  Hey Annie,

  I’ll be at Old Orchard Beach for the weekend.

  You want to get together? Dinner and a movie?

  Miss you.

  Xoxo, Taj

  I slapped my hand over my mouth, smothering a laugh. Oh my God. How stupid did he think I was? Get together? Get in my pants was more like it. And that was never happening again.

  With a dramatic jab of my finger, I deleted his e-mail. Thanks, but no thanks. Asshole.

  My phone buzzed.

  A text. From Dad! He was home. In his bedroom! He wanted to know where I was.

  Heck with that.

  It only took me a second to fling on clothes and sprint to the other side of the house where his room was. Maybe it was more like five minutes. His room was about as far from mine as it could be.

  Dad must have heard me coming because he met me in the doorway to his room, pulling me into a bear hug.

  “Missed you times a million, Dad,” I said, burying my face in his shoulder.

  He kissed my forehead and hugged me harder. “Missed you more.”

  He released me and we went into his room.

  I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. I’d expected him to return with bags under his eyes and a few pounds lighter. But—if I didn’t count his wrinkled shirt and chinos, and the gray stubble on his neck and chin—he looked surprisingly well for a guy who’d spent a week trapped in the Slovenian mountains. In fact, he looked rested and happy—strange, considering he’d been stuck in a tiny cabin with his father and brother, who he hadn’t wanted anything to do with for the last fifteen years.

  “You look—good?” I said.

  He gave me a questioning glance. “Sometimes, Annie, we get what we need even if it’s something we’ve avoided like the plague.” He gave me another hug. “I wish I could have been here for you. I feel horrible about everything that happened. But we’ve been given a second chance, and that’s something most people never get.”

  I nodded, feeling lighter than I had in ages. I knew instinctively that he wasn’t only talking about Chase and Mother, but something more. The time in the mountains had changed him. Dad had never been one to forgive—that was, anyone other than me. But the sincerity in his eyes, his relaxed smile a
nd movements, everything about him told me that he’d let go of the anger he’d held toward his family and moved into a future that included them.

  He gently clasped one of my arms and looked down at the bruises. “I’m worried about you, though.”

  I pulled free and waved him off. “A few scrapes and jellyfish stings. Not bad for being thrown through the sky from another realm.”

  Without a word, he strode across the room to the desk. Crap. The letter. That’s what he was talking about. I’d left it there for him before Chase, Lotli, and I snuck off to the djinn realm. I should have ripped it up the moment I got back, but I’d forgotten all about it.

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I should have gotten rid of it.”

  Dad’s voice was firm. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “It was in case I didn’t come back. I just wanted to explain why I had to go. It doesn’t matter now.”

  A voice began chanting inside me, low and insistent: Liar, liar, liar. And what I’d written to him, the truth put down in black and white, flashed through my head:

  Dear Dad,

  I want you to know that my going to the realm is not your fault or anything you could have stopped. I know you love Mother and think getting her back is your battle to fight, but the truth is none of this would have happened if it weren’t for me. No one would have needed to lie to you, if I hadn’t lied first. Grandmother asked me if someone had been visiting Mama at night and I said no. But I had seen someone. I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this. But I saw her with Malphic.

  I know it will be impossible for you to not worry about where I’ve gone and what I’ve gone to do, but give me a chance. I promise, I will return, with Mother. And forgive her, too. She was a victim, just like the rest of us.

  Love you always. You are the best father any girl could wish for.

  Annie

  I pressed my fingertips against my eyes, holding back the sting of tears. If only I hadn’t lied to Grandmother, then none of this would have happened. To Mother. To Grandmother. To Chase.

  “Annie,” Dad said sharply. He yanked my hands from my face and waved the note in front of me. “This is bullshit. You’re not responsible for what happened.”

  My voice hitched. “Yes, I am. I know you don’t like it, but it’s true.”

  He ripped the note in half, hands fisting as he crumpled the pieces. “It’s garbage. Christ, Annie. You were five years old. A child.”

  “But I knew it was wrong. I lied to Grandmother.”

  “You were protecting your mother. Your grandmother was an adult. She could have spoken up at any time. Your mother could have reached out for help. I could have—”

  I glared. “You lost the woman you loved. It ruined your relationship with your family. I’ll agree that I’m not the only one who is guilty, but you had nothing to do with it.”

  His jaw tightened. “Why do you think your mother got involved with Malphic? His trickery, most likely. But I was at fault, too. We were married only a few weeks after we met. I brought her to Maine, where she didn’t know anyone, to live with people she’d never met, and with all this—” He gestured with both hands, indicating not just his bedroom, but all that living at Moonhill entailed: the witchcraft, the lineage, the mysterious objects, the family business, hidden tunnels and treasuries, so many strange things, so much past. “She got pregnant not long after that. Your mother is beautiful, brilliant, and amazing. She’s also creative and high-spirited. I knew that, but I forced her into a strange cage and asked her to be what I wanted.”

  I lowered my eyes, watching silently as he tore the crumpled note into smaller pieces, watching them drift to the floor.

  “If I’d been smart,” he said, “I would have moved the three of us into the stone cottage, given her a modicum of privacy at least. I would have insisted on not going away on family business as much—or I could have taken her with me sometimes. I knew this place stifled her. I knew she was lonely. I all but opened the veil and welcomed Malphic in.”

  In my heart I had guessed all these things. But it was different hearing it from his mouth. It made the truth more potent, impossible to bury beneath my own claim to guilt. Liar. The voice whispered inside me. Liar. I’d never be able to go back and change what was done, unsay the one word that led to my mother’s kidnapping and my grandmother’s death. But now something new was building inside me, a battle cry overshadowing a voice that had done more harm than good.

  “Dad, it’s not your fault either.” I raised an eyebrow and slanted a look at the remains of the letter, haphazard white scraps staining the red carpet. “What do you say we forget about that, start over—and blame everything on Malphic?”

  He laughed and pulled me into a hug. “Now that’s an idea I can get behind.”

  I wriggled free. “There is just one more thing.” I took a deep breath, building up my bravery before I went on. “Why us? I can see how Malphic managed to get involved with Mom. But why her—why our family?”

  “That, my dear, is a good question. There have been genies tangled up in our family’s history every now and again, ad infinitum. But I have no idea why Malphic targeted your mother. Once she and Chase return, that’s something we’ll definitely need to look into.”

  I stepped back and raised my chin. “Dad?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust that look. What’s on your mind now?”

  “You do realize I intend to go on the rescue mission to the realm, right?”

  He grimaced. “I don’t like the idea. But, yes, I understand. However”—he raised a finger—“I’m going to insist that you back off and let me plan things out with your grandfather and Kate.” His finger lowered and he smiled. “As a matter of fact, your grandfather insisted that you go. He thinks you and I are the strongest team.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “He does?”

  Dad slung his arm over my shoulders, snugging me tight. “I always thought he was a crazy old man.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Dad.” Then I whispered, “I do have an idea about how to rescue Lotli, if she’s at this boathouse, like we think.”

  CHAPTER 7

  I should have left her a note. I should have told her my real name. I should have said good-bye that morning in Paris. Instead I took the heartache with me, and left her alone with the gift of anger.

  —Journal: Kate Freemont

  “You think they really are going to let us go to the boathouse?” Selena asked a few hours later as we parked in front of a formalwear shop in Bar Harbor village.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know about your dad, but mine will. Yours went along with us getting tuxes to wear. That’s a good sign, right?”

  Olya’s scrying had indicated Lotli was indeed being held at the King’s Pine Yacht Club, a private club on the outskirts of Kennebunkport, where the wedding reception and the Sons of Ophiuchus meeting were happening late tomorrow afternoon. Grandfather eliminated the last measure of doubt by using what he called electronic sorcery. It involved tracking Newt’s movements by using texts he’d sent to Selena, phone sensors, and accelerometers, as well as the satellite system in Newt’s Mustang—in other words, hacking.

  I’d suggested we should go to the King’s Pine and rescue Lotli right away; with Chase on the cusp of changing, we couldn’t afford to wait. But after a heated debate, I relented that planning things out in more detail and waiting until tomorrow when we could blend in with the wedding crowd was probably wiser. In exchange, everyone admitted that Selena and I were the only ones young enough to fade into the background at a wedding, especially if we went disguised as waitstaff. They also agreed that Dad was the only older family member Newt and his family might not recognize. Still, I half suspected that we’d been sent to check out tuxes in order to get us out of the way—that eventually it would be Kate or Olya who went to the boathouse instead of Selena, since either of them could scry and locate Lotli as well.

  Selena and I bailed ou
t of the Land Rover and went into the shop. It was a nice place, brightly lit with pop Muzak playing in the background.

  I leaned close to Selena. “Remember basic tuxes. Nothing fancy.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Except—”

  Before she could say anything more, a balding man slunk out from between two racks of mother-of-the-bride dresses and toward us. He was middle-aged and dressed in a three-piece suit, complete with a turquoise pocket square. “Good morning, ladies. Just browsing, or do you need help with something?”

  I smiled at him. “We want to rent three tuxes for tomorrow afternoon, for us and a gentleman. Something simple. In black.”

  Selena jumped in. “With pink bow ties. Raspberry-pink. And matching cufflinks.”

  I shot a hard look at her. “I think we should stick with black.”

  The man folded his hands, his face grim. “Color isn’t an issue. However, this is very short notice.”

  “We realize that,” I said. “And we fully expect to pay for the rush.” I pulled my shoulders back and hardened my gaze, as if I were dickering over a fine antique and not about to budge. Then I took out my wallet and opened it, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the contents. “Do you prefer a credit card—or cash?”

  For a half second my sleeves pulled up and his eyes went to my bruised arms, but they quickly returned to the thick stack of bills. It was impossible to tell what was going through his mind. However, the way he unconsciously rubbed his fingers together made me suspect that he preferred cash and thoroughly intended on pocketing it instead of putting it in the register.

  I turned to Selena. “I know pink’s your favorite color, but we really need to blend in.”

  Selena flipped her hair off her shoulder. “We will. Raspberry and black are the color scheme for the wedding.”

 

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