Witch Bound (Devilborn Book 3)

by Jen Rasmussen

  Arabella smiled as she caught on. “And why would you need an alarm on a closet?”

  “Exactly. I think that’s where the puzzle is. And if I go in alone, nobody even has to know I’m there.”

  “Except you’ll set off the alarm when you open the door, same as he did,” said Lydia.

  “Not now that I know it’s there. I have a few ideas on how to disarm it.”

  “Listen, this all works great in an ideal world,” said Phineas. “But it relies on every single thing going right. And there are people in that house.”

  “But not a lot of people,” I said. “Not if Wick’s gone. Maybe a few servants, but I doubt they’re allowed in his private office. There’s Harry, who has helped us before and might help me again. His mother, who we’ve never seen. And Jeeves, who I will be all too happy to kill if he spots me.”

  “Not funny,” said Phineas. “You’re talking about sneaking around an occupied house, something you have no experience at. What happens if you’re caught?”

  “That’s exactly why I need you on standby instead of with me. So you can freely come for me at a moment’s notice. I’ll hope stealth works, but I’ll go in armed, and if I have to, I’ll shoot my way out.”

  “No offense, but you’re a shitty shot and you know it,” said Arabella.

  Lydia was looking at her list. “Okay, you get in, get the seeds, give Phineas the signal, and get back out again. If it all goes well, it’s like you were never even there. If you set off an alarm or think you’ve been spotted, you haul ass out of there and teleport away again, and we’re no worse off than we are now.”

  I nodded. “Simple but, I hope, effective.”

  She looked at Phineas. “Honestly, with two phantasms, it’s not too risky to at least try this.”

  “Except that one of us is only half phantasm,” he said. “And we’re making a big assumption that it’s safe for her to travel this way.”

  “Well, it didn’t kill her the first time,” said Arabella.

  “It’s not going to kill me,” I said.

  But Phineas wasn’t ready to give in. “Jeeves might. Easy enough to say you’ll just run outside and travel away if you’re seen, but what if running away isn’t an option? You might not be a good shot, but we have recent proof that that butler is.”

  At least he had the decency to look guilty when he saw me wince.

  “Here’s the thing,” I said. “Cooper would have died to get those seeds back. Instead he died for me.”

  Stop it he’s not dead.

  My voice started to crack, but I got a hold of myself quickly. The last thing I wanted was to give anyone another chance to interrupt. “It’s time for me to take up his burden. I owe him that. Not to mention I’ve got half of Bristol breathing down my neck, and if I don’t do something, Cillian Wick is going to give this town enough rope to hang itself. So yes, I’m willing to risk my life for this. That’s my choice. And I am asking you, even though I know I have no right to, to please just help me.”

  For a few seconds nobody said anything. Then Arabella whistled low. “Come on, Phineas, at least give her points for a good speech.”

  Phineas laughed. Then sighed. “Okay. When do we start?”

  I looked down so he wouldn’t see my relieved tears, and pulled my phone out of my pocket. “We start right now.”

  Cillian Wick arranged to meet me at the Bristol town line on the lower side of the mountain road at midday the following day. As he couldn’t enter Bristol (as far as he knew), and I couldn’t be harmed within the borders of the town, that was as close to neutral territory as we could come. He would, of course, have a contingent of security with him. I assured him that I would have the same.

  The location was his idea, and I could think of no believable reason to argue. I only prayed that, if he really wasn’t barred from entering the town anymore, he wouldn’t realize it.

  I wondered whether he would really show up, who would be with him if he did, and what sort of tricks he was planning.

  But I guessed it didn’t matter; I was planning a few tricks of my own. I swapped phones with Lance, who in turn swapped phones with Arabella. That left me with a phone that Wick had no reason to track, and Arabella with mine, which she would take to the meeting location at the appointed time. The Mount Phearson would be watched, but it was easy enough for her to put on a hat and drive away in my car.

  The ploy wouldn’t buy a whole lot of time, before Wick would realize I wasn’t coming. But that was okay. By the time he got back to Pennsylvania—always assuming he left at all—I would be long gone.

  Early the next morning, dressed like we were going for a hike, Phineas and I headed for the old stable. We needed to be outdoors for traveling, and we were unlikely to be witnessed or interrupted there.

  “Have I thanked you for helping me with this?” I asked as we walked.

  “About a dozen times.”

  “Well, make this lucky thirteen, then. And before you wave it off and say we’re family, that doesn’t make me any less grateful. I’ve never had family before.”

  A troubled look crossed his face. After a few seconds he said, “I wasn’t kind to your father. When we were kids.”

  I blinked at him. “So? My father was a deranged, evil murderer.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t know that at the time.”

  I stopped walking. “Please tell me you aren’t doing this—all the things you’ve done for me—out of some misplaced sense of guilt. Because you didn’t owe him anything, and you don’t owe me anything.”

  Phineas smiled his lopsided smile, though his eyes looked a little sad. “No. Of course not. I do it because I’m using you for the free luxury accommodations any time we want.”

  I nodded and got moving again. “That’s a much better reason.”

  “So. All ready to tackle this puzzle thing again?” he asked.

  “More ready than I was the first time, that’s for sure. I know some of their tricks now, and that should help. Plus I learned something important at Number Twelve, when it burned down. Something that gives me a very big edge.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, the first time I was at the Wick compound, I didn’t think I could do magic there, or at least not much, not easily. The place wasn’t friendly toward me, and I couldn’t connect to its energy. It just felt dead.”

  “Right, I remember you saying.”

  “But Number Twelve was about as hostile toward me as a place can get, and I still managed to do magic there. And not only my own magic. I used the house’s energy, too.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I don’t necessarily need cooperation. I can dominate a place, if I’m strong enough. Make it work for me.”

  “So you just have to be stronger than Wick’s enchantments.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And honestly, now that the curse is broken, I don’t see that being a problem. I’ve never felt so strong.”

  “Even with soulsickness factored in?”

  “Even with,” I agreed. “I mean, you have to figure that the Wicks are running at low capacity all the time. Feeders with no regular source of vitality, and all that. They’ve got some really, really talented practitioners in that family, from what I’ve seen. But they’re hardly ever powered up all the way. And remember what Harry said?”

  “That a lot of the enchantments are off.”

  “They can’t afford to keep all the lights on all the time. Not even in their fortress.”

  “But that won’t apply around the seeds,” Phineas warned. “I think you should expect a full host of obstacles there, including probably a few tricks you haven’t seen before.”

  “I know. But you can’t blame a girl for giving herself a pep talk.”

  Phineas laughed and squeezed my shoulder. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  “No,” I said as we stopped just short of the stable. “I’m sure it won’t. But we’re going to do it anyway.”

  For Cooper.

>   I didn’t say the words out loud. They sounded too trite, almost cheesy, and I didn’t want to reduce Cooper to that. But I couldn’t help but think it.

  “Ready then?” Phineas asked.

  “Hold on, let me do this first.” I closed my eyes and spoke softly. “Verity and Phineas came back to the Mount Phearson a short while later, safe and sound and carrying the seeds.”

  Verity and Phineas came back safely with the seeds. Verity and Phineas came back safely with the seeds. Verity and Phineas came back safely with the seeds.

  “Handy, that you can tell your stories without writing them down now,” said Phineas.

  “Tell me about it. I hated making spell ink. But…” I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, the spell I’d written for him that morning. “I still do it for special occasions. You can never have too much protection. Put that in whatever pocket is closest to your skin.”

  Once he’d tucked it away he said, “Now are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, there will be a lot to learn when we have time to see if you can do this on your own, but for now, since we’re in a hurry, let’s focus on the basics. That should help you hitch a ride with me with minimal pain. The most important things are steady breathing—do not hold your breath—and traveling with your mind first.”

  “What does that mean, traveling with my mind first?”

  “You have to hold it in your head first. Focus on whatever you have—a mental image works best, so luckily we have that today. But if I don’t, I can use an address, coordinates, anything like that. You don’t have to visualize it, you just sort of have to know you’re there. Does that make sense?”

  “Not really,” I said. “But in my case, maybe if I put it in a story? I mean, all the ways of doing magic are just ways of focusing your will, right?”

  “Perfect. Try that. And remember not to hold your breath.” He offered me his arm. “Grab on.”

  I clutched his forearm as if my life depended on it—which it probably did—and conjured a mental image of the door I wanted.

  Verity arrived at Cillian’s private entrance.

  Then, because I figured it couldn’t hurt, I added an epilogue to that little tale.

  Verity arrived at Cillian’s private entrance, unseen and undetected.

  Yes, that would serve.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “One,” said Phineas.

  Verity arrived at Cillian’s private entrance, unseen and undetected.

  “Two.”

  Verity arrived at Cillian’s private entrance, unseen and undetected.

  “Three.”

  And then I felt it, the tug of traveling, the constriction of my lungs.

  Breathe, remember to keep breathing.

  I kept my eyes open, although I couldn’t see much in the swirling blur around me. Briefly, I glimpsed the tower I’d seen before. This time it loomed dark in a cold twilight, and a light rain was falling. Then it was gone again.

  The pressure in my skull grew painful, but it wasn’t the blinding agony I’d experienced the first time. Maybe I really could learn to do this.

  Breathe. Breathe.

  Verity arrived at Cillian’s private entrance, unseen and undetected.

  And then we were there.

  “You okay?” Phineas whispered.

  “Yeah,” I assured him. “Just need a second to catch my breath. Nice accuracy you’ve got there.” We were standing directly beside the entrance, in the shadow of the house, with no cameras anywhere near and nobody around us. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in this crime.

  When the dizziness of travel subsided and I was breathing normally again, I pulled the false brick out of the wall to reveal the keypad.

  Then I hesitated. I’d memorized the Wick birthdays, and already decided to try Kestrel’s first. But what if that was the wrong one?

  It was like one of those board games where one false move knocks you back to the start again. I’d been casual with the others, saying that if something went wrong we would just abort the mission. But it wasn’t quite that simple. There were only so many excuses I could use to draw Cillian Wick out, only so far my story spells could protect me. If I screwed this up, would I ever get another chance?

  Well, I can’t just stand here out in the open and waffle over it.

  Kestrel. Daddy’s little girl, the youngest. The first to die. She was my favorite daughter, Cillian had told me once.

  Balls, why didn’t I remember that before? How could she be his favorite if she’s the only girl? What if there’s another daughter I don’t know about, and it’s her birthday that’s the code?

  What if the code isn’t a birthday at all?

  No time! Make a choice!

  Keeping my fingers steady, I punched in Kestrel’s date of birth.

  There was a click. I turned the handle. The door opened.

  One down.

  I stopped long enough to squeeze Phineas’s hand. His expression made it clear that he still wasn’t happy about leaving me alone, but he didn’t linger to argue. He only squeezed back, then turned to travel away.

  I closed the door behind me and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim overhead light. Then I nearly blew the whole operation, right then and there, by letting out a startled cry. I barely managed to hold it back.

  Harry stood in front of the basement door, blinking at me with his oversized owl’s eyes.

  “Harry,” I whispered. “I’m glad to see you.” But then I frowned. What was he doing by that door? It was slightly ajar, as though he’d just come through it. But he hated the basement. Or had he come around and decided it was a good hiding place, now that Serena was gone? “Were you in the basement?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  He offered no further explanation, but this was hardly the time to interrogate him. I squatted down to his level and smiled. “This will be the last time I come here. I promise. Will you help me one more time?”

  Harry’s careful, solemn expression didn’t change. “Why,” he asked, “would I help a witch who fights for the vitals? My father will eat your heart!”

  And then he opened his mouth wider, and I knew it was to scream.

  In an instant, almost before I even realized I was acting, I clapped a hand over Harry’s mouth, wrapped my other arm around his waist, and hauled him through the basement door.

  I wasn’t quite quick enough; a scream just started to escape his lips before I silenced it. If anyone was around, it was probably enough for them to hear.

  While he squirmed, kicked, and tried to bite my hand, I pushed the door closed with my back, as gently as I could manage under the circumstances. I didn’t dare turn on the light, not when I didn’t know if someone would be coming to look for the source of the noise.

  I won’t let this stop me. I can handle one little boy.

  I remembered the turn in the stairs. If I could make it that far, I could turn on the next light, then bring Harry all the way down, where nobody would hear him yelling. I’d have to tie him somehow. And preferably gag him too, just in case I was wrong about how far his voice could carry.

  Thankfully he was small and light, even for a young boy. I gripped him tighter, pushed my palm a little harder against his mouth, and then with my back to the wall so I could feel my way, carefully lowered myself, sideways, one step at a time.

  One, two, three…

  I guessed there were maybe twenty steps before the turn. A steady, angry hum was escaping from behind my hand. I just had to hope I’d make it down far enough before either Harry managed to scream, or I accidentally suffocated the kid.

  Seven, eight, nine…

  Harry gave up the thrashing, at least. Possibly he was afraid I’d fall down the stairs and kill us both, which was not an unreasonable concern.

  Ten, eleven, twelve…

  No sound came from above. Maybe nobody had heard him, or maybe they assumed he was just being noisy, as boys tend to be
.

  Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.

  Finally, as I inched forward, I felt emptiness instead of wall at my back. A corner. I’d reached the landing where the stairs turned. It took me what felt like hours before I found the light switch and managed to flip it with my elbow.

  It went faster after that, and somehow—maybe my story spell really was protecting me, or maybe it was divine providence—I made it down the second set of stairs, then the third, with no sign of pursuit and without dropping my young prisoner.

  At last I reached the bottom, sweaty and a little breathless, and flicked another light switch to reveal the hall with all the doors. I raised my hand slightly, to see what Harry would do.

  He made no attempt to scream, supporting my assumption that it would be useless this far below the house. I moved my hand away from his face, using it to get a tighter grip on him instead. My other arm ached from the strain of carrying (or sometimes dragging) him for so long already.

  Harry didn’t speak.

  “You want to tell me what that heart-eating stuff was all about?” I asked.

  No answer. He was turned away from me at an awkward angle, so I couldn’t see his face.

  “Okay. I’m going to have to tie you up. I’m sorry, but it’s just until I leave. Then I’ll call your father and tell him where you are. Someone will come and get you.”

  Surely I would find rope somewhere in this twisted dungeon. If not, I would have to pull out my shoelaces and try to do it with those.

  As with the last time I was down there, the doors on either side of the hall were locked, leaving the one straight ahead the only available path. I remembered what Harry had told us before, that he wasn’t allowed to do the puzzles. Maybe I could use his inexperience to intimidate him.

  “Am I going to fall into a puzzle when I walk through here?” I asked. “It’s in your best interests to tell me the truth. You don’t want to get stuck down here, do you?”

  Harry shook his head.

  “No there won’t be a puzzle, or no you don’t want to get stuck?”

  “No puzzle,” he said grudgingly.

  “Are there any more prisoners down here, now that the witch is gone?”