by Angie Fox
Too bad I was still trapped. I’d never be free until we could find who had taken that part of me. “So if we assume the imps weren’t after anything in your safe, and my magic has already been stolen, why did they break in today?”
Dimitri tugged a hand across his forehead. “I don’t know.”
“Did you use that Skye stone to track me?” I asked. “Maybe they need it to use what they stole.”
“Impossible,” Dimitri said. “The stone is merely a conductor. We use them to capture words and emotions—the things we put out into the universe.”
Diana broke in. “In English, what he means is that our magic isn’t about focus objects, but rather, how they’re used.”
Now I was officially confused. “Let’s bring it down a notch.”
Dimitri took my hands. “I employed protective magic to track you.” He smoothed a wisp of hair away from my face. “I wanted to watch over you and learn whether you could be the person to save my sisters. I used my mother’s stone to channel my energy, but it was only a tool, not the source of anything. Dark powers wouldn’t use a Skye stone.”
“Oh yes?” I asked. From my experience, dark powers would use anything that would suit them.
“A dark-magic practitioner or any creature with a strong enough tie to the evil arts would use their own conductor.” He grew somber. “Lizzie, it’s important that we retrieve the protective thread. Whoever stole it could use the connection to harm you or manipulate you in other ways.”
My stomach sank. “How so?”
“They’ll try to direct you, to guide your feelings.”
“I can fight back,” I said, hoping I was right.
“It’s more than that,” he said. “They’ll use it to rob you of yourself, to dilute your free will.”
Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the mule. Now what the heck was I supposed to do about that?
“At least it hasn’t happened yet,” Diana said, trying—and failing—to sound optimistic.
We were in trouble.
My magic was gone. We didn’t know where to find it. And the big question still hovered over our heads: when would whoever had it use it?
Dimitri thought for a moment. “Perhaps Amara can help.” He glanced at Diana. “Is she here?”
“Not right now,” Diana said, “but later, yes.”
“Amara?” I asked.
“You’ll meet her tonight,” Diana said.
“Be on guard,” Dimitri added, only half-kidding. “It’ll be an experience.”
Dimitri returned everything to the floor safe and secured it once again. While he cleaned up the slime and re-spelled the office, I gathered up my mom’s wooden box and let Diana show me my room. Pirate followed a few feet behind, sniffing at the corners of the hallway.
I knew what he was doing.
“Pirate, I don’t want you floating again.”
“Aw, but Lizzie—If it was demonic you’d know about it and I always wanted to be able to jump really, really high and this is kind of like that and I don’t see why—”
“Pirate.” For all my powers, I wasn’t particularly crazy about magic, especially the kind I couldn’t control.
He mumbled to himself the rest of the way, something about the unfairness of being a dog.
Diana led us from Dimitri’s study to the second floor of the building. The white hallways left plenty of room for all three of us to walk side by side if we’d wished. That is, if Pirate hadn’t been ten feet ahead with his nose to the ground. At least he was where I could see him.
“Amara and her brother are staying in these two bedrooms,” Diana said as we came to the rooms closest to the stairway.
“Oh,” I said, pausing outside a yellow painted door, unable to think of anything else to say that wouldn’t be downright rude.
Diana guessed. “I think Dimitri assumed they’d be gone by the time you two returned,” she said, touching a conspiratorial hand to my arm. “I don’t blame them for wanting to stay. They come from the Dominos clan, which is very large—and loud.”
Dimitri had mentioned the Dominos clan. He’d pledged himself to them when his clan all but died out. He’d also asked for their help when we were in Las Vegas. That was before things had gone south so quickly.
“So they’ve been here for a while?” I asked.
Diana nodded. “Amara and Talos came to help Dyonne and me during what we thought would be our final days. They protected us, cheered us with gifts.” She touched her necklace. “They kept us company.” She paused. “They would have been there to witness our final minutes. Griffins cannot die alone, or”—her gaze dropped to her toes—“well, it’s just bad. Anyhow, they promised to stay with us.” Her fingers skimmed the yellow door. “They’ve been here ever since, almost like family. You’ll meet them tonight.”
“Do you think we should check on them?” I asked, hand raised to knock. No telling what could have happened if they’d run into a stray imp or three.
Diana shook her head. “We already did. Christolo, our cook, was the only one home during the attack. Dyonne found him hiding in the pantry. She really should have put some clothes on first.” She started down the hallway once more. “Amara and Talos went out for the day.”
“Oh,” I said, moving on. “What a lucky day to be out.” Not that I wanted to accuse her friends of anything, but it did seem strange for them to disappear right before an attack.
“They might have figured we’d be busy picking you up. Or”—she turned back to me—“they could have sensed something coming. Amara is psychic.”
“For real?” I’d never met a psychic, except for the one at the Georgia State Fair. And even at the age of eight, I had a feeling that Mystical Marge had a tarot card or two up her sleeve.
“I’ll bet that’s why Dimitri thinks she could help you.”
I hoped that wasn’t our only plan. I liked to count on things I could see—my switch stars, a nice antidemonic spell, perhaps a few healing crystals from my utility belt.
Sure, I’d stop to watch the occasional History Channel special on Nostradamus or the 2012 predictions, but if I was going to bet my missing magic on something, it had better be something I could use.
The doubt must have shone on my face, because she quickly added, “Amara predicted that Dyonne and I could be the ones to survive the curse on our family.” She paused outside another painted door. “Thanks to you, it happened.”
Interesting. Perhaps I’d talk to Amara about the vision I’d had at the airport.
Diana opened the door to a cozy room with a plumped-up canopy bed that reminded me of “The Princess and the Pea.” The bed was covered in a white and green vine pattern, with a half dozen pillows and a Greek cross hanging on the wall behind it. The room had a large, rounded window overlooking the gorgeous green hills behind the house.
“This is for me?” I asked.
“Officially, yes,” Diana said, with a bit of humor. “And just so you know, Dimitri is across the hall.”
How convenient, although it was a bit of a shame that comfy bed would probably go to waste.
“Oh, and if it makes you feel any safer,” she said, easing open the wardrobe in the corner of the room, “this bottom drawer has a solid lock. The key is on the dresser.”
“Thanks.”
As I turned the key, I couldn’t help thinking that for a house as open and welcoming as this one tried to be, it sure had a lot of places to keep secrets.
Chapter Six
I showered in the small bathroom off my room and changed into a pink flowered sundress and sandals. Despite the brightness of my surroundings, I couldn’t keep my own dark thoughts from surfacing.
Someone had stolen a part of me.
A few months ago, I would have thought it was impossible. Of course that was before I came into my powers and learned more than I ever wanted to know about demons, imps and things that go bump in the night—and in all hours of the day as well.
I eased onto the bed and tried to remember
my yoga breathing. Our teacher had talked about centering ourselves, finding that quiet place. It was harder than it sounded, sitting still, letting your mind roam free.
Even when my biggest worry involved keeping Pirate away from Mrs. Cristople’s tabby cat, I usually ended up composing to-do lists in my head while my classmates communed with the universe.
This time, I really tried. I closed my eyes and looked inward, focusing on my soul, my strength, my power.
My complete lack of control over the thread that was stolen from me.
I didn’t even like it when my keys weren’t on the third hook of my kitchen organizer at home. Now I kept a new set in my front right pocket. All the time.
I slipped a hand into the pocket of my sundress. Sure enough, I had the SpongeBob keychain one of my preschoolers had given me. I just didn’t have a vital part of my being. I clenched my fingers around the keys, wincing as the metal dug into my skin.
Eerily enough, I didn’t feel any different. How could someone have snatched such an important piece of me without me even missing it?
I still hadn’t managed any major revelations by the time Dimitri came to escort me to dinner. His loose-fitting cream shirt accentuated his wide build and olive skin. And as I was about to compliment him on his legs—Dimitri hardly ever wore shorts—he pulled me in for a kiss that warmed me from head to toe.
His lips brushed mine once, twice. “You ready, Lizzie?”
“Always,” I said, taking his hand.
Despite everything that had happened, Dimitri seemed more relaxed here. I couldn’t even put my finger on exactly what it was. We certainly hadn’t enjoyed a typical homecoming. It was more like landing in Oz.
Perhaps Dorothy had something there when she said there’s no place like home.
We made our way down to the first floor of the house, passing through the main entryway, with its amber walls and gorgeous tile floors. I hadn’t noticed them before, and with good reason. This time, I paused to admire the pair of mosaic griffins, standing proud, their powerful lion’s tails wound together as they flew over olive groves and vineyards.
“It’s beautiful,” I told him, running a toe over a sky blue section.
He squeezed my hand. “My grandfather had it commissioned for my grandmother as an anniversary gift. I forget which one. See here.” He led me toward the back hallway where the sky gave way to the heavens, and in the center, to Dimitri’s family crest. “See the long pointed rays coming down from the sun? They represent the four elements.”
“Earth, ocean, fire and air.” I didn’t get an A in Greek mythology for nothing.
“The other rays represent the twelve griffin clans. The sun of Vergina is the symbol of all griffins and is incorporated onto the markings of each clan. On my family’s crest, it’s situated in the clouds. We are the Helios, which means we are of the light and sky.”
I studied the gold and blue crest. “Isn’t that true of most griffins?”
“The most well-known, maybe,” he said, giving in to a moment of pride. “But other clans draw power from earth or fire.
“Or water.”
“Yes. The Dominos clan is of the sea.”
“That’s the clan who took you in.”
“Our fathers were friends. I asked for their protection and received it when my sisters were about to succumb to the curse.”
He fixed his gaze on the Helios crest, the symbol of his family, his home, everything he’d tried so hard to defend. “We need the Dominos now as well. There aren’t enough of us left. Of course, in return, I’m pledged to aid them in any way they need.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Hopefully, it won’t be anytime soon.”
“It won’t.” He stood directly in front of me, his expression earnest. “This time, I promise, Lizzie. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure the next few weeks are just about us.”
He ran his thumb along my lower lip, and I was about to reach up and kiss him when Pirate dashed in from the side hall. His claws clattered across the floor as he rounded a potted fig tree, slid five feet and ran straight into my left leg.
“Have you seen a cat? Medium build? Beady eyes? Smart mouth?”
“I think Dimitri would have warned us if you had to worry about a cat,” I said, reaching for my dog as he danced out of my grip.
Pirate tended to have an active imagination. Pair it with his ability to see ghosts, and well…Who knew what he’d been chasing?
Dimitri scanned the corners of the entryway. “Actually, one of our guests…has a cat,” he said, with a reluctance that worried me. “I’m not sure if she brought it with her. Frankly, I thought she’d be gone by the time we arrived.”
Pirate circled twice before sitting. “Ornery gal?” he asked, his tail thwomping the floor, “Likes to talk tough?”
“Are we talking about the cat or the guest?” I asked.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Dimitri said. “Come with me.”
We walked through the back hallway and into a dining room the size of the entire first floor of my condo back home. Arched ceilings and doorways gave it a majestic feel. A sturdy, highly glossed table stood in the middle of the room.
The honey gold wood shone in the evening sunlight and maintained the aura of polished elegance, despite the take-out bags littering the far end.
“Christolo extends his apologies,” Dimitri said. “While he held up admirably during the events of this afternoon, our dinner did not fare as well.”
A long-faced Greek man unloaded the food.
Next to him, a beautiful olive-skinned woman watched us enter the room. She wore a white pleated dress that was both stylish and traditional at the same time, like a modern version of the old goddesses.
My griffin paused in the doorway, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the Papagalos Restaurant bags or the smell of braised lamb shanks and rosemary.
The woman wore a wry expression as she lifted her wineglass to us in a silent toast before touching it to her lips.
Dimitri stiffened. “Amara.”
The tension between them was palpable, and I didn’t miss the way she tilted her head, exposing her long neck as she eased her wavy black hair from her shoulders. “Hello, Dimitri.” Her crisp Greek accent gave her words a heady feel. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”
She strolled toward us like a model on a catwalk, glass in hand. “You must be Lizzie,” she said, offering her hand.
I took it, ignoring the way she pursed her lips.
“See?” she said, turning to the man who unloaded the bags. “I can shake hands like an American. Heaven knows she can’t greet us like a griffin.”
I forced myself to smile. “Want me to greet you like a demon slayer?” She was just asking for a switch star up the rear.
“Charming as usual, Amara,” Dimitri said tightly. “Lizzie, I’d also like you to meet Amara’s brother, Talos.”
Talos gave a quick nod, his eyes coolly assessing me.
“They’ve been helping my sisters with their recovery,” Dimitri explained. “Speaking of those two—”
“We stopped down to the cellar for an extra bottle of wine,” Dyonne said, breezing past us and plunking a bottle of red Mavrotragano onto the table.
At least the food was good. Dyonne had ordered lamb shanks with orzo pasta and all of the fixings.
I dug a fork through a wedge of fried haloumi cheese, wondering how long Amara would be staying and trying my darndest not to look at her. It was tough, considering Dimitri had positioned himself at the head of the table, I sat to his right and Amara had inserted herself to his left. Diana and Dyonne lined up on the other side of me, and Talos took the same position on the other side of the table, like opposing armies.
“You going to stab her with a fork?” Diana whispered in my ear.
“What?” I looked down and discovered I’d basically drawn, quartered and gutted my cheese.
Amara, for her part, launched into yet ano
ther story of one of the baths she and Dimitri had taken together as children. “We’re both royal griffins, you see,” she said, pursing her glossed lips, “so it made sense for our parents to bring us together.”
Dimitri looked as disturbed as I felt. And how did she keep her lip gloss on during a meal?
I started in on a new piece of cheese as Dimitri wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Amara, I don’t think we need to hear any more about the past. It’s been over for a long time,” he said, looking at me while talking to her.
Lovely. It was as if both of them were talking to me and I had no idea what to say back.
Amara winked at me as if I were in on the joke. “Of course past is past.” She stabbed a grape with her fork. “I mean, yes they wanted us to get married. But nothing was final. We were not officially engaged until two years ago. When we both agreed to it.”
I flicked the cheese straight into Talos’s lap.
Dimitri was engaged?
Shock rocketed through me. Dimitri—my Dimitri—had been engaged to her?
I schooled my expression, unwilling to let Amara get the best of me. It was what she wanted, and darned if I’d give her the satisfaction. At least nobody but Talos seemed to have noticed my flying haloumi. He looked as embarrassed as I felt as he wrapped it in his napkin and scooted it down the table.
I realized I was bending my fork, dropped it on the table and reached for my wineglass.
Dimitri, his ears red and his mouth grim, looked primed and ready to do a little fork origami of his own. “It was long ago, Amara. Hardly worth discussing now.”
Talos cleared his throat. “Not that long.”
“Two years,” Diana insisted.
“You were both very ill.” Amara lobbed a patronizing smile at Diana. “We couldn’t begin to think of our own happiness. It wasn’t the right time.”
“Or the right situation,” Dimitri fumed.
“He means person,” Dyonne volunteered.
“Dyonne,” Dimitri warned.
“I’m just saying,” she said, elbowing Diana, who knocked into me.
“Oh, how dare you?” Amara asked in mock offense. “And after I hear your little demon slayer needs my help.”
