Midnight Magic (A Ghost & Abby Mystery Book 1)

by Jo-Ann Carson

  “Nah.”

  26

  Eric’s eyes turned that steely blue that spelled trouble. “It’s hard to tell what Azalea sees. But it doesn’t matter. The future can be changed by what we do. We need to focus on Aslog.”

  I gulped. I’d never killed anyone before. Granted, Aslog was already dead, but still, I would be nailing the final nail in the lid of her coffin, or however that stupid old phrase went. I would be sending her to her final death. Did I have that right? But the alternative was to watch her feed on god knows what. My throat felt drier than a desert. I wanted to quit and be normal. Quit being part of the supernatural world, in which I really had no business. What was I doing playing god with the life of a vampiric creature from the past? What was I thinking? And while I was on my insecure inner-rant: How on earth did I think I could make things work with a dead Viking?

  I didn’t want to cry, but I teared up with frustration.

  Eric shimmered darker. “Ӓskling, trust me, it will be all right.”

  Yeah, right. Like an old warrior knows how the modern world turns. My stomach knotted. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Maybe I could at least keep my job.

  We drove in silence broken only by the sound of the wind-storm brewing around us. The tops of the old cedars swayed and the trunks groaned from the pressure. The full moon that had shone so brightly at midnight was now lost behind dense clouds that pushed down towards the earth. In the distance thunder clapped.

  “Find Aslog, kill Aslog,” I said to break the silence. “That is our mission.”

  “No, my love, our mission is to find each other, to be with each other.” His eyes stayed on the road, as if he didn’t quite trust my driving and staring would help.

  “Until death do us part?” I laughed.

  The car frame wobbled as I took a sharp turn to the right. If he didn’t like my driving he could find his own way to the manor. “No matter how sweetly you talk of our love, Eric, the truth is we are on a mission to murder.”

  “You can’t murder someone who’s already dead. We’re cleaning up the mess for the universe. Think of it that way. Draugrs do no good. Aslog is an evil revenant who feeds on the living. Her soul was swallowed up by the forces of hell long ago. All that remains of her is a decaying beast. We will bring her what peace we can by giving her a final death.”

  “Death. I’m so sick of talking about death.”

  “This mission, as you call it, is a minor thing; a bump on the road, nothing more.”

  “Murder is nothing more . . .”

  “Abby, you know what I mean.” A second later he added, “Would you drive better if you had a new car?”

  I glared at him and we continued in silence. When I stepped out of the car the earth beneath my feet trembled. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the sound of the howling hounds enveloped me once more. All I need now is an earthquake.

  Eric had a funny look in his eyes, part exasperation, part worry.

  “It’s nothing,” I said. “I just thought the earth moved.”

  His brow hitched.

  “Don’t go there, lover boy.” It would take a while for me to get over the car comment.

  Aslog greeted us at the base of the grand staircase. “You have it? You have it? Tell me, you have it?” Her dark, decaying form, covered in a white gown, danced an unearthly jig.

  Eric wasted no time. He grabbed the vampire by the shoulders and pushed her to her knees.

  Fighting back, she put her hands on his arms. “What? What are you doing, Viking? I thought we had a truce.”

  “Vikings make no truces with draugrs.”

  I opened the jar. “All that is holy, please forgive me.” I poured the magic potion on her head. It flowed evenly over her scalp as she screamed in terror.

  I had a moment of joy, and then the last drop curled upwards and flowed onto my hand. Before I could scream it disappeared into my body.

  Aslog’s screams diminished as her corpse crumpled to the ground. Her remains ignited in cold blue flames. Her disembodied voice spoke. “Thank you.”

  It was all over in a minute. Ash and smoke were all that were left of her.

  I swallowed. My whole body shook. I had also spilled the magic on myself. A feeling of lightness spiraled through my body from my hand, which had taken in the spell. It spiraled faster and faster until it reached every part of my being. My vision blurred and the room spun. I looked at Eric and the room went white.

  27

  “Abby? Abby?” Eric’s voice called to me from somewhere. It sounded miles away at first, but it came closer and closer. I opened my eyes and there he was an inch from my face.

  “What happened?”

  “You tell me.”

  I was lying on a couch in the manor’s living room. I swallowed and looked down at my body. Everything seemed in place. I wiggled my toes and fingers.

  “You fainted.”

  “I guess it was the shock,” I lied.

  His eyes paled to the light blue of a robin’s egg. “I thought, for a moment, that I had lost you.”

  “We should see the guardian spirit.” Didn’t she know everything? I didn’t want to talk about the spell getting me, or what that might mean. Hell, I didn’t want to think about it.

  “I am here,” said her booming voice as she shimmered into view.

  I stared at her. She looked shinier, something I would not have thought possible. But she definitely looked shinier.

  “You have done well,” she said. “The Zagars’ ancient book of magic is now yours to open, Abby. May you have the wisdom to use it well.” She vanished, leaving only the scent of a spring garden before I could ask her the million questions in my head.

  What? Cart blanche? I didn’t expect this at all, but then I rarely expected the life-changing things that happened to me.

  I pulled the book from my satchel. It felt warm in my hands and called to me in its quiet, insistent way. “Abby . . .” Part of me wanted to drop it. But I didn’t. I knew—I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew—the grimoire, full of arcane magic, was now a part of my life, or, more precisely, I was a part of its life. The book had adopted me.

  My fingers tingled as I traced them over the etching on the cover. It felt heavier than before, but that could have been my imagination, which had been on overdrive since I met the spiders. A sense of awe with a side of dark foreboding cast its shadow on me and my heart stuttered. It kept calling me.

  What did it want me to do?

  Eric said, “Open it.”

  “Shouldn’t we think about this?” That heavy sense of looming-doom raised its ugly head and pulled on my judgment. I could see its serpent-like face, distorted by fears never spoken out-loud. Was I going crazy? Since when did I visualize fear as a snake?

  “Now?” Eric’s eyes widened. “Now you want to talk about this?”

  “Yes. Everything is different.” Boy oh boy, was it different. “I mean, the book feels different.”

  “Different?” His eyes raked my face. “Are you okay? Besides the fainting thing. Is there something I should know?”

  “I just think taking on the protection of a book of arcane magic is something we should talk about.”

  “You want the diamonds. A locating spell in this book should tell us where to look. What’s there to talk about?” His Viking practicality could be really irritating.

  “What happens after I get the diamonds?”

  “Well, for starters you give them to your client and make yourself a name as a detective. The money she pays you will go in the bank and you won’t have to eat noodles three nights a week.”

  All true. “But how will we protect the magic?”

  Eric frowned. “Leave that to me.” Grimacing, he used his powers to flip the cover open.

  Sweet music flowed from the depths of the book. I peered inside it, but all I could see was a white mist, as if I were examining a cloud. The music had an enchanting quality that calmed my nerves and, as my breathing slowed, its voic
e whispered, “New mistress, what is your desire?”

  I looked at Eric to see if he heard it speak. He nodded.

  “It’s not for me. It’s for another,” I said.

  “So be it. Name your wish.”

  “I want to find the diamonds hidden in this manor.”

  A stream of light burst from the book. “Follow me,” it said.

  With Eric at my side, and my grimoire in my arms, I followed the stream of light up the grand staircase to the bedroom at the back of the second floor. I remembered looking through this room, furnished long ago as a nursery, with a crib, changing table and small dresser. It held a feeling of love and warmth unlike the rest of the manor. The faded wallpaper had tall ships

  the rest of the manor. The faded wallpaper had tall ships rolling on waves, and the chipped ledge of the window was painted a nautical blue. I had checked it over thoroughly, but found nothing.

  The light flew into the cupboard and burned a hole in its wall, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside it was a velvet blue bag. As I reached for the bag, the light vanished.

  I pulled on the silk drawstring and looked inside. There were diamonds, lots and lots of diamonds. I had no idea how much they were worth, but I knew their worth to me. My heart bounced with joy.

  I pulled out my cell phone and sent a text to Ms. Dubois. “The treasure has been found. Meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

  I looked up to talk to Eric, but he had already left, no doubt to track the other vampires.

  28

  With the diamonds in my pack I returned to the teahouse. I climbed the old staircase to my office in the attic and sat down at my desk. My job was done.

  Was it worth it?

  On the plus-side I had found the diamonds for my client, made myself a reputation and made money. I could make a list of party food for dinner.

  I had also helped rid the world of two evil vampires. Gotta love that.

  And I now possessed an ancient grimoire. Or did it possess me? I wasn’t sure if that should be on the plus side.

  On the other side, the far other side, I had made a mess of things. Two draugrs still roamed Sunset Cove, hungry for blood. I had been involved in killing, something I never imagined I would do. Yeah, they were dead creatures, but still, my part in the execution haunted me.

  And the kicker, the worst thing of all, was that I had been touched by magic.

  I rubbed between my eyes where my wicked headache lingered. Who knew a potion could defy gravity and attack you? Who knew? Well, I should have been prepared for anything. After all, it was magic, life-and-death magic. Who did I think I was, playing with such things?

  The big question was: Who am I now? A full-body awareness hit me. That that was the true question. I gulped. The magic had changed me. I looked around. Light danced around objects. Smells were stronger. I felt as if I was tripping out on a psychedelic drug. Would it be a permanent condition?

  I took out a hand mirror from my drawer. My reflection didn’t look so bad, considering all I had gone through. Two tired-looking, familiar eyes with crow’s feet stared back at me. One regular nose and a set of chapped lips. My hair was a mess, but that was understandable. I pulled on the elastic holding it and ran a hand through the tangles. I needed a good night’s sleep and a long shower.

  I was about to toss the mirror back into the drawer when I saw something else in the mirror. I looked again. In the corner of my right eye was a spark of light that had never been there before. Kind of like a star.

  I blinked, but the light didn’t fade. I was pretty sure it wasn’t a floater, because they don’t appear in mirrors. I blinked again and again, but the star stayed as if it were a presence of its own; a part of me, but separate. Oh crappola. I stared at my visage. The spell had changed me and the guardian knew it.

  Would this new spark take me over? Swallow me? Or was it more like an infection, a common cold that would go away within a week? I had no idea. There was no one to ask. The guardian spirit had left. Eric wouldn’t know about such things and I didn’t want to worry him by asking. There was Azalea, but if I asked her then it would no longer be my secret, and part of me wanted to keep it private. I also wanted to keep my janitor job.

  Hmm. This new part of me had a voice of its own, quiet but distinct. Although it spoke no words, its feelings spoke loud and clear. Oh damn.

  What should I do now? Maybe if I talked to it I could learn more.

  “Am I going to die?” I asked, wanting to get to the worst scenario first.

  To my horror a small voice inside my head answered, “Eventually, numbskull, everyone dies.”

  Great, my visitor had attitude. “Will you kill me?”

  “No. That would be suicide.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “What do you want from me?”

  Silence.

  “Seriously, what do you want from me?”

  “Listen, lady, I am you, just a different part of you, so your question makes no sense.”

  “Then you are not possessing me?”

  It laughed. “No, I am not a demon or a devil, if that’s what you’re thinking. I am a spark of magic, nothing more, nothing less. You will learn to use me as time passes.”

  “So you’re good magic.”

  It laughed at me again. “I am magic. Whether I be good or bad depends on you.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “Why, you did. When you stirred the spell to kill the draugrs you wished for more control over your life and the universe gave it to you. You now have a spark of magic to add to your already magic blood.”

  “But I don’t need you.” What did she say about magic blood?

  “Really? Is there nothing in your life that could not do with a little magic?”

  “Well, if you put it that way.”

  “You need to rest. I’m not going anywhere. Think of me as a companion for now. In time I will grow to be more a part of you than you ever could have imagined.”

  “That sounds more like a threat than a gift.”

  “It’s not that, but your new power comes with responsibility. Use me wrongly and the universe will punish you. Use me properly and all will benefit.”

  “And if I don’t use you at all?”

  “That would fall under the category of using me wrongly.” The voice grew in strength the longer we chatted. I was feeding it with attention.

  “I will call you Spark.”

  “Whatever.”

  I put my head down on the desk top and, despite the circus-like flow of thoughts and emotions that plagued me, I fell asleep. Four hours later I awoke when someone tugged at my elbow. I looked up at Azalea.

  “Did they find them?” I asked.

  “No, not yet, but that’s not why I’m here. You have a visitor.”

  I straightened my back and looked towards the doorway. Ms. Dubois, dressed in a stylish pant suit that would fit on the front of Vogue magazine, stood at the threshold, with an anxious look on her face. “I got your text.”

  “Good,” I managed to say, as I wondered how bad my breath must smell, not to mention the rest of me. I ran a hand through my tattered hair. “Come on in.”

  29

  Summoned by Guiden, Eric slid through the ether to the sorcerer’s domain where the burning sage and old magic oozed from the seams of the iron doors. He didn’t want to go back, but he had no choice. He tried to resist the sorcerer’s power, but it was too strong, and it carried him back to Egregore.

  Reaching for the large iron handle on the door of the warlock’s palace, he hesitated as long as he could. The intricately sculpted images of the moon, the sun and the stars on the door glowed with a life of their own. Why did he think he could deal with such a powerful mӓstare?

  The door opened, revealing a long, dark corridor lit with the flickering light of the candles, set out the same way as before. A light breeze added an earthy smell to the sage and magic.

  The sound of the heartbeat. Bump bump . . . bump bump . . . bump bum
p. Unmistakable. Someday he would ask the wizard whose heart he held captive within these walls, but that was not his concern today.

  A bright light leaked from the first room on the right, and its door opened. The old sorcerer stood in the middle of the empty room, leaning on a cane made of weathered oak. He wore a purple cloak and his wrinkled face held a smile so sly it dripped venom. “Welcome, Eric.” His voice was soft, yet so powerful it made Eric want to expire on the spot. The walls melted to the floor, leaving the two of them standing in a large, regally appointed room. “Come, take a seat. Let us talk of your night with Abby.”

  The last thing Eric wanted to do was talk about that night. He didn’t want to share anything about that night with anyone. It was theirs, his and Abby’s, and theirs alone. “I thank you for your generous gift, sorcerer.” He bowed his head to show his respect.

  “I trust it was . . . fruitful.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you enjoyed yourself.” The sorcerer’s eyes took on a lewd look.

  Eric wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but he found his mouth loosening, as if he had been drugged. “It was everything I imagined and more.”

  “Imagine a thousand nights like that, my friend. Imagine eternity together. It is yours for the asking.”

  Eric swallowed.

  “Your life span can be multiplied, and with it your passion.”

  “I could not love her more.”

  The sorcerer laughed. “Some good that does you as a ghost.”

  Eric looked at his feet. The words he wanted to say stuck in his mouth. He managed to grunt.

  “It’s an easy matter,” continued Guiden, as if Eric had said nothing.

  “I will not do your bidding,” Eric said. Sweat broke out on his face from the effort of talking through the magic that tried to imprison his words.

  “You will, my friend. You will. It is just a matter of time.”

  “No. I will not be your pawn.”