He paused, and I sensed there was something he wasn’t telling me, but something he wanted me to figure out for myself. That way I would know, and he wouldn’t have broken his word to the order. I found myself understanding him, and even appreciating the situation.
He let me have all the time I needed. I took another chocolate while I tried to put the picture together in my mind.
Somewhere out there, a vampire, either alone or with a small number of followers, had carved out Eagle Rock as its territory. This vampire would have survived in the area for a long time, undetected, which meant he was clever and, well, powerful. He couldn’t have successfully held a territory with so many practitioners otherwise.
Some vampires can do magic, Jason had said. Luke couldn’t, which made me think he wasn’t the master around here. Someone else had to be the master, someone smarter and stronger.
Finally, I spoke. “So theoretically, if a vampire is also a sorcerer, what additional powers might he have?”
“Theoretically, he might have any powers a sorcerer would have.”
“So,” I said, straining to think, “he could cast an illusion, work spells, brew potions?”
“Those are the sorts of things a sorcerer can do.”
“Could he turn into a bat and fly away?” I asked.
“Possibly,” Jason said.
“Could he mix up some super-strong SPF 2000 sunblock and go out in the daylight?”
Jason didn’t answer, which I took to mean yes.
“Really?” I hadn’t been entirely serious, but now I found myself rethinking everything I thought I knew about vampires. “But wait, if they’re immune to sunlight, then anyone could be a vampire. Are they also immune to crosses and holy water?”
“Faith is a special kind of magic,” Jason said.
“Small comfort.” Then another thought occurred to me. “Is vampire hunter blood still poisonous to them?”
Jason wouldn’t meet my eyes, but he did nod, once. Interesting, I thought. I wondered if there was more to the legend about vampire hunter blood than they let on. Given how much of their order was shrouded in secrecy, I would have bet on it, but what, I wondered, made their blood so poisonous to a vampire that a sorcerer couldn’t find an antidote?
Faith is a special kind of magic, he had said.
Pushing the speculation aside, I returned to the topic at hand. “This vampire could be anyone. We have a powerful, territorial vampire in town. Somehow, I doubt it was Luke.”
“Me too,” Jason said. “No offense, but you killed him too easily.”
“None taken,” I said, though that wasn’t entirely true. “I fooled him into thinking I was under his spell, so he couldn’t have been that bright, but I wonder if there’s a way to find out if he turned Belinda?”
“There is, although my gut tells me no.”
“Mine too. I think whoever she took to the cabin turned her.”
“Interesting,” Jason said, sitting forward. “That gives me something to think about, although I want to find out for sure whether Luke sired Belinda, before I jump to conclusions.”
“Can I help you do that?”
“No, I just need to gather some potion ingredients. You should try to get some sleep tonight.”
“I’ll do my best.”
21
THE MCCLELLAN FAMILY RIVALED THE Hewitts in nastiness, and surpassed them in raw magical power. They liked to deal in curses, hexes, enchantments, and ancient dark objects. Sometimes, these ancient dark objects were not obtained through legitimate means.
One day, not long after I joined the force, a private investigator from New York came to pay us a visit. He represented an insurance company that was interested in tracking down a three million dollar sceptre, part of a private collection they insured. It had been stolen a month or so before, and his investigation had led him to Eagle Rock.
The investigator, Simon Wright, spoke to the sheriff the day he came to town to let him know what he was after, and why he thought it was in Eagle Rock. They were only in the sheriff’s office for five minutes before Sheriff Adams called me in.
“Cassie, this is Simon Wright,” Sheriff Adams said. “He’s looking for something, and I thought you might be able to help him find it.” He turned to Simon and said, “She knows most of the more interesting families in town.”
Simon raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask what the sheriff meant by interesting. He just told his story. “The sceptre was stolen from a private collection in upstate New York. The place was a fortress–video cameras, security guards, guard dogs, alarms–you name it. At 9:45 in the evening, the alarms went off, but the guards couldn’t see anyone. The guard dogs might have seen someone, but they had fallen asleep and wouldn’t wake. Then the video cameras shorted. At 9:50, the glass case with the sceptre inside shattered, but no one could see who had done it. An instant later, the sceptre disappeared into thin air.”
Simon paused and studied my reaction, but my face was a calculated mask. I knew exactly what had happened, of course. It was a basic invisibility spell, one that did not fool dogs or cameras. A lot of people in Eagle Rock could have done it, but I had an idea which family might have been involved.
“This sceptre,” I said, “did it have a reputation as a cursed object? Unexplained deaths, accidents, or bad luck?”
“Yes,” Simon said. “It was first stolen from an ancient Egyptian tomb some fifty years ago, and it was said to bring death to anyone who touched it.”
“Pleasant,” I said. “So what brought you here?”
“An electrician,” Simon said. “I found the man who shorted the cameras–don’t ask how–and managed to track his payment to a bank here in Eagle Rock.”
“Did you find out who owned the account?”
“Jasmine Hewitt.”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Simon asked.
It was hard to explain why that was funny. Partly, it was because I couldn’t see Jasmine Hewitt prowling an old mansion in search of a deadly sceptre. Partly, it was because I knew she didn’t have the power or the money to pull it off. But mostly, it was because I knew of one family that would have loved to lay a false trail at her feet.
“It wasn’t Jasmine Hewitt,” I said. “I’m guessing it was a McClellan. They would be more than happy to cast false blame on the Hewitts. Plus, they deal in cursed objects.”
“Well, if that’s true, it makes my job harder,” Simon said. “I don’t have any evidence linking the McClellans to this robbery. I was rather hoping to just get a warrant, and have a look inside Jasmine Hewitt’s house.”
I shook my head. “Won’t be there, and if you do that, it’ll tip the McClellans off that you’re around here, looking.”
“I guess it’s time to do a little stakeout, then,” Simon said. “What’s the address?”
* * *
Several days passed before Simon came back to us with a taped conversation between David McClellan and his father, John. In the conversation, David mentioned the sceptre, and talked about a possible buyer.
It was enough for a warrant. I was excited. This was exactly why I had joined the force–to put people like the McClellans in their place. They couldn’t get away with doing whatever they wanted, not when it hurt people or broke the law.
The judge issued the warrant, and I went with Simon to search the house.
When David McClellan answered the door, he had a sneer on his face, but it disappeared when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”
“We have a warrant to search the premises,” I said, holding it out for him to see.
“Cassandra Scot?” David said. “You’re a cop now?”
“Yes,” I answered. I felt powerful. He had to let me in, and I guessed that he had not had time to get rid of the sceptre. He may try to make it invisible, but that was why I had brought a hand-held camcorder to look through. I had a badge, plenty of knowledge, and my parents’ name to protect me.
The trouble was, Si
mon didn’t have any of that, and sorcerers really don’t think they should have to answer to any mere mortal authority.
David let us enter. We searched an informal living room, while he disappeared into a back bedroom. He came back out a few minutes later, a gloved hand carrying the sceptre quite openly. He offered it to Simon.
“Don’t touch-” I started to say, but it was too late. Simon grabbed the sceptre with his bare hands.
He let out an ear-piercing scream and sank to the floor, clutching the arm that grasped the sceptre. It looked like he couldn’t let go, and whatever curse was on that thing would eat him alive from the inside out. I could see his skin began to shiver and crawl.
“Can you undo the curse?” I asked David.
“Why would I want to?” he asked.
“It’ll kill him.” My heart was pounding now. I considered calling my parents, but wasn’t sure what they could do. They had no particular expertise in cursed objects.
“You want him to live?” David asked.
“Of course.”
“Fine, then, I’ll make a trade. His life for mine. You pretend you didn’t find the sceptre here and walk away.” It was a magical deal he was offering me; completely binding.
I spluttered. “If he dies, I’ll arrest you for murder!”
David shook his head. “What will you tell people the cause of death is, a magical sceptre?”
“Yes, and I bet people around here would believe me.” I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was a good possibility.
“You’ll bet his life?” David asked. “Because I’m willing to.”
Put that way, I really had no choice. I could see in his eyes that he would follow this through. “Undo it.” I closed my eyes. “This never happened.”
A few seconds later, Simon stopped screaming, though he continued to whimper for a few minutes. I just hung my head in defeat. Unfortunately, it would only turn out to be the first of many lessons about how the world really worked. In the end, it was why I left the force.
* * *
I spent another restless night tossing and turning beneath the sheets. Nothing had changed–there was still a vampire out there somewhere, I was still no closer to figuring out what had happened to Nancy and Belinda, and Mom was still pregnant. Yes, there had been a victory, but a small one.
I must have dozed off near dawn, because the sound of the doorbell ringing woke me from a nightmare that faded as soon as I saw the light streaming in through my window. Since the window faced the back, I couldn’t see who had come to the door, so I quickly threw on some clean clothes and, without even running a brush through my hair, headed downstairs.
The entire family was gathered in the living room, including Jason, who looked like he had just come in from a long night. At first, I thought Jason had rung the doorbell, but then I saw Dad standing at the door, talking to someone on the other side.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Go back upstairs,” Dad told me, sharply.
“Cassie.” It was Sheriff Adams, but for some reason, Dad wasn’t letting him in.
“What’s going on here?” I asked. “Dad, why don’t you invite him inside?”
“I’ve got a warrant for your arrest,” Sheriff Adams said.
“Huh?” I moved closer. There was Sheriff Adams, a fiercely determined expression on his face, waving a piece of paper around as if it were some kind of talisman. It reminded me of my visit to the McClellan’s, almost a year before. Remembering how that nearly ended, I sucked in my breath. Not that this would be at all like that. My parents were not insane criminals like the McClellans.
“Cassandra,” Dad said. “Go upstairs. I’ll handle this.”
“But-” I began.
“She’s under arrest for the murder or Luke Foster,” Sheriff Adams said.
My eyes went wide and I stared around the room at the grim faces of those present. Only the youngest three seemed immune to the ominous atmosphere. Elena, as usual, was caught in a far away place, Adam seemed frankly confused, and Christina was talking to a doll about fairies.
“Um, shouldn’t I just go with him?” It had to be a simple misunderstanding, one we could easily work out without the drama and heavy-handed power plays.
“Yes,” Sheriff Adams said.
“No,” Dad said at the exact same time. His face was turned away from me, so I couldn’t see it, but Sheriff Adams’ eyes flickered in fear.
“We’ve always had respect for you,” Dad said, “but I will not let you take my daughter to jail for a crime you and I both know she didn’t commit.”
“Technically, I did kill him,” I muttered so that the sheriff couldn’t hear.
Mom and Jason heard. The latter whispered, “Technically, he was already dead.”
“You’re not helping,” I replied.
“I don’t know what to think,” Sheriff Adams said. “Last night, we got a report from a very good friend of hers that Cassie had killed her boyfriend. It looks bad.”
“He was a vampire,” I said.
Sheriff Adams focused on me, and when I actually took the time to study his face, I knew reasoning with him would not help. He was still on the love potion, and probably thought if I had staked Luke, then I had staked Belinda as well. I thought Evan had implemented a plan to take care of the problem, but it seemed to have failed. The only difference I could see was that the sheriff now had a full head of thick, brown hair.
“As fascinating as I’m sure this all is,” Dad said, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Then I’ll return with backup,” Sheriff Adams shot back.
Better make it a full coven, I thought, ruefully. Dad did not sound at all inclined to let him in that door.
“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Dad slammed the door in the sheriff’s face.
“Dad!” I tried to run to the door, but Dad stood in the way. So instead, I went to the window. Sheriff Adams was still standing on the doorstep, his face bright red, staring at the house as if he could work out a way to get inside if he thought long and hard enough. If I had needed further proof of how the mind-altering affects of the potion could harm a person, this was it. In his right mind, Sheriff Adams would know better than to consider breaking into a heavily warded house.
Jason joined me by the window a few seconds later, shaking his head.
“I have to go out there,” I said. “I don’t know what my parents think-”
“They think they’re protecting you,” Jason said. “Maybe you should trust them.”
Suddenly, I heard an earth-shattering explosion from outside. I pressed my nose into the window, and stared in horror at the flames pouring out in all directions from what used to be the sheriff’s car. A piece of shrapnel clanked against the window, and I quickly backed away, even knowing the wards would not let it in.
Sheriff Adams, meanwhile, had his arms over his face, trying to protect himself from flying debris.
“Dad,” I said, “What are you doing?”
“It wasn’t me,” Dad said. “He tripped a ward.”
“Someone’s got to help him,” I said.
I pushed past Dad, who by then was a bit more docile, possibly due to shock. He really didn’t seem to have expected the ward to go off, and I know he hadn’t wanted to hurt the sheriff. By the time I opened the door, however; Juliana had rushed past me and laid a hand on one of the sheriff’s hands.
The sheriff didn’t see her. He was curled up in a ball, facing the stone porch. By the time he looked up, she had slipped back inside, where Mom was scolding her for using her gift. For once, I didn’t think she had done such a bad thing.
“Cassie, what the hell happened?” The sheriff’s eyes looked blearily up at me, and to my surprise, I saw they no longer looked pink. Had I been mistaken in my earlier inspection, which had been from a greater distance, or had he suddenly broken free of the spell?
Before I had a chance to work it out, Dad pulled me back inside, then slammed the door in the sheriff’s
face. Again.
“Someone has to give him a ride back into town,” I pointed out.
Dad, for once, was at a loss for words.
“I have to go into town anyway.” Nicolas pushed past us and opened the door. “I’ll be back before lunch.” Then the door closed behind him.
“Mommy,” Adam said, retreating to his little boy voice. “What’s going on? Why’s Cassie upset?”
“It’s okay,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go play in your room for a while? In fact, it might be best if all of you go play in your rooms for a while.”
It was a measure of how scared the kids were that even Isaac went without complaint. The only sound any of them made, as they retreated up the stairs, was Elena, who said, “Luke Foster’s not very nice. He turned into a vampire on purpose.” Then she shook her head and drifted away with the others.
That left Mom, Dad, Jason, and Juliana in the room with me. Mom gave Juliana a significant look, and she left as well.
“So,” Jason said. “I need to brew a few potions. Mind if I use the lab upstairs?”
Mom and Dad both shook their heads, and he, too, retreated up the stairs.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“There’s a debt I can collect on,” Dad said. “By this afternoon, the town will suffer from selective amnesia.”
I sucked in my breath, my mind reeling at the implications of what he had suggested. How many times had he warned me against the dangers of mind magic, and now he wanted to use it, quite blatantly, to protect me from a charge that probably wouldn’t stick?
“Didn’t you always tell me that mind magic was evil?” I asked.
Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective Page 17
