Lucy: A Paragon Society Novel (Book 3)

by David Delaney

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Lucy lied. “I’m fine. I slipped and bumped my knee.”

  “Well, be careful. Are you almost done in there?”

  “Yeah, just drying off now.”

  Lucy, her hands trembling, pulled a towel around her body and then she expertly used a second towel to wrap her hair. She clicked on the light, opened the blinds and checked the window—it was locked. Lucy peered outside, squinting against the bright afternoon sun. She was on the second floor with nothing but a sheer wall between her and the ground. There was no way anybody could have reached the window.

  Lucy hugged herself. The instructions hadn’t said anything about visions or stuff. Maybe seeing weird things was like a magic side-effect or something?

  “I need to call Morgan.”

  Lucy blew out all the candles, collected her make-up bag, slung her robe over her shoulders like a cape and headed to her bedroom; all thoughts of money and the things she wanted to buy replaced by images of people with freaky silver eyes.

  CHAPTER 2

  It had been a week since the crazy night at Stanford and I was still not happy about being sidelined. Society cleaners were still fixing the mess created by Jimmy Tobin and Tinkerbelle, the blood-mage he had paid to provide him with the love spell that had wreaked so much havoc. Tobin was being hunted, but so far he remained totally off-grid. The body of Dahlia, the girl he kidnapped, had been found at a super-rural rest stop somewhere in Montana. She had been drained of all of her blood. So it appeared the dickhead had managed to decipher Tinkerbelle’s spell book and figure out how blood-magic worked, which meant the Paragon Society now considered him armed and dangerous. Nobody knew exactly what kind of magic Tinkerbelle had been hoarding in her little book of spells. She had been able to pull off a doozy of a love spell, so chances were the book was full of some seriously bad juju.

  The Society was looking into the blood-mage who with multiple portals crashed the Stanford party, letting imps and trolls run loose on campus. The imps had been goosed with the ability to infect people with magic, turning their victims into a sort of frenzied demon-zombie thing. It was giving the Society higher-ups major anxiety, because they weren’t sure how it was done or how to cure the victims.

  Lucy was still in a coma with zero signs of waking up anytime soon. She required around-the-clock care because her vitals often crashed the second anyone turned their back—which wasn’t surprising considering she had been shot in the head at point-blank range. The fact that she remained among the living was a testament to the power of magic.

  The only bright spot during the past week was that Elyse remained in LA. Her dad had gone apoplectic when she’d called to let him know her quick trip to Palo Alto had turned into an unexpected visit to Society HQ. Mr. Kelly didn’t have anything against the Society. It was the fact that Elyse would be spending time with me that sent him over the edge. And I was in the place where I felt bad, that I didn’t feel bad about what he thought. Having Elyse with me for the week was exactly what I needed. Waking up next to the soft, warm body of the girl you love is something I highly recommend, it’s the perfect medicine for whatever ails you. Plus she helped me decorate my bland apartment. It turned out to be a win-win-win scenario.

  Now, Elyse and I sat quietly with Cynthia, Wyatt and Maddie in the hospital wing of the Society. The room resembled a high-end hotel suite, not a hospital ward for the magically damaged. There was a seating area to one side. The walls were painted a soothing shade of green and hung with artwork depicting pastoral scenes. If the ceiling had electric lights I was having a hard time spotting them. Instead, the room had a sort of ambient glow—not too bright and not too dim—that came from everywhere and nowhere.

  “The glow does double-duty as lighting and as the field keeping Lucy alive,” Cynthia explained.

  I’m not going to lie; sitting inside the only thing keeping Lucy alive was unsettling.

  “Um,” I began eloquently. “You know my aura has a bad habit of short-circuiting magic. I don’t want to be responsible for killing Lucy.”

  “Nonsense,” Cynthia dismissed my concern with a wave. “It’s perfectly safe. Just don’t go poking at anything in the magic spectrum.”

  I nodded. “Got it. No poking.”

  The five of us had assembled in Lucy’s room about an hour ago, along with Ellen, the councilwoman with the weird, silver eyes. We’d rearranged the seating so we all had a view of the bed.

  Lucy was propped up by about a zillion pillows. Her hair was clean, not styled in her usual array of spikes, and slicked back. I think someone had even applied a little make-up—it was a little morbid in my opinion. Heck, if I didn’t know better I would have guessed she was sleeping, not in a coma.

  Ellen was seated close, one hand placed firmly on Lucy’s chest, the other on her forehead. She looked like some kind of kooky faith healer. Ellen hadn’t moved, not even an eyelid twitch in over forty-five minutes.

  Wyatt leaned towards me and whispered, “Dude, I think the old chick may have slipped into a coma herself.”

  “Hush,” Cynthia snapped.

  Wyatt straightened, lips pressed together as if they had moved on their own. I stifled a chuckle. The kid cracked me up.

  Ellen suddenly jerked upright, pulling her hands from Lucy like she received an electric shock.

  “Ellen?” Cynthia rose from her chair.

  Ellen loosened the collar of her button-up dress. “I’m alright. The girl is in there, but she’s retreated deep into her subconscious.”

  Ellen stood, gave Lucy’s hand an affectionate squeeze, and joined us. Maddie’s eyes went wide when Ellen casually used magic to move her chair, floating it into position next to Cynthia. Maddie was new to the magical world and so the unconscious, casual displays of power still freaked her out a bit.

  “Were you able to make contact?” Cynthia asked.

  “Not quite,” Ellen said. “I found her, yes. But her mind has gone into protection mode, it’s actively fighting back.”

  “How does a mind fight back exactly?” Elyse asked.

  “Oh, in all manner of ways,” said Ellen. “But with Lucy, the defenses are magic-based.”

  I looked over at Lucy. “She’s using magic while she’s unconscious? Like shield spells and stuff to block you?”

  Ellen shook her head. “Oh my, no, Lucy’s ability is far beyond simple shield spells. Her mind is fighting back with offensive magic. I hardly made it out unscathed just now.”

  “Unscathed? But you didn’t move for like an hour,” said Wyatt.

  “My body didn’t move, but I assure you I was fighting for my life,” Ellen said, rolling up her sleeve to show us an angry bruise on her forearm. It was in the shape of a hand—a very large hand.

  “No way,” Wyatt said, surprised.

  I said to Cynthia, “Do we have to ask or are you going to explain?”

  Cynthia’s eyes were locked on the bruise. After a moment, she slumped in her chair and rubbed her eyes. Elyse gave me a look, because it was very un-Cynthia-like behavior. The chief councilwoman of the Paragon Society seemed not afraid exactly, but most definitely concerned.

  The young witch is beyond help.

  Not now, please.

  A mind out of control is a danger to all.

  I said, not now.

  It is imperative we end her life.

  Shut up!

  Shouting at my inner-cuckoo was starting to become a regular occurrence. I needed to get a handle on the Ollphiest side of my brain and bring us more into balance with one another. There just hadn’t been time.

  Having silenced the voice in my head, I asked Cynthia, “What are we talking about here? How dangerous can Lucy be while she’s like that?” I gestured at Lucy’s prone form.

  “There is no immediate danger,” Cynthia began. “But it can spiral out of control quickly. It’s the magic, you see. It can take whatever Lucy’s experiencing internally and project it into the world. It’s rare, but there have been documented cases.
”

  Wyatt said, “So what if Lucy starts dreaming about the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. He can, like, appear and start smashing stuff?” He sounded both fearful and excited.

  “A stray-puff what?” Ellen asked.

  This line of discussion was not going to be useful in any way. I stepped on Wyatt’s toe—hard. He grimaced and looked at me accusingly. I shook my head at him and he got the hint.

  “How long?” I asked. “Before bad stuff starts happening? And what do we do, if and when it starts?”

  Ellen looked down at her hands. Cynthia turned her head towards Lucy, avoiding my eyes.

  Oh, of course.

  How stupid of me for asking.

  The Society’s answer for everything it can’t control was death.

  It was one of the many things wrong with the Paragon Society; one of the things I intended to address, but I needed Lucy healthy and whole to move forward with those plans.

  “Do we have any options?” I asked.

  Cynthia kept looking at Lucy. “Yes, there is something we can try. It’s risky, of course, and—” Cynthia turned to face me. “You’re the only one who even has a chance of succeeding.”

  I felt Elyse tense next to me.

  I sighed.

  “What do I have to do?”

  * * * *

  “It’s insane!” Elyse shouted, again.

  Everyone else had left us alone. My guess was they didn’t want to be around a pissed-off shape-shifter because things tended to get messy.

  “They’re going to kill her,” I said, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  “Lucy is a battle-mage, dying is part of the damn job description.”

  “Elyse, be reasonable.”

  “Don’t you tell me to be reasonable,” Elyse said through gritted teeth. “The magic users who run the Society are the reason my mother is dead. And I can’t—” her voice cracked. “I can’t lose you too.”

  I pulled Elyse into a hug. Mrs. Kelly had only been gone for a little over a month, the pain and loss still fresh. We held each other in silence for a few minutes. When Elyse’s breathing calmed, I pulled back so I could look into her eyes. I leaned down and gently brushed her lips with mine.

  “Thank you for worrying about me,” I said.

  There was no guarantee the room wasn’t magically bugged. I needed to choose my next words carefully.

  “I know the Society has a very poor history when it comes to inclusion and that shifters usually get the short end of the stick.”

  “Always.”

  “Okay, always,” I agreed. “But I truly believe that Cynthia wants to see changes made.” I squeezed Elyse’s shoulder as I said this, hoping she understood that I didn’t trust anyone in the Society, Cynthia included. Elyse responded with a nose wiggle and I knew we were on the same page. “I’ve come to trust Wyatt and Lucy with my life, they’ve earned it. And they both trust Cynthia, so if she says this is the only chance Lucy has, then I’ve got to try.”

  “But even Cynthia says it’s risky.”

  “Yeah, but I’m the . . . you know . . . I’m me.” I almost said Ollphiest, which would’ve been bad if prying ears were listening.

  Elyse rolled her eyes. “That’s your argument, that you’re you? Because the last time I checked, you’re still a world-class dork.”

  My laugh was interrupted by kissing—serious girlfriend kissing, one of my favorite things.

  “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

  “I promise.”

  * * * *

  All my arguing to the contrary, the plan was totally crazy. Cynthia and the other big-brain, magic folks had deduced that because Wyatt and I were linked to Lucy through the comm spell, we would be able to enter her mind and interact with her. What we were supposed to do when we reached her was anybody’s guess.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to startle a sleeping person, because they could get all violent,” said Wyatt.

  “I think that’s only sleepwalkers,” Maddie said.

  “Oh, right.” Wyatt didn’t sound convinced.

  Two more beds had been rolled into Lucy’s room. They weren’t fancy like hers, just regular-looking hospital beds. The healers, who ran the hospital wing, had Wyatt and me lie down and make ourselves comfortable.

  Sure guys, like getting comfortable was possible when we were about to enter the mind of a kick-ass battle-mage who didn’t know we were coming for a visit, and had hung out the No Visitors sign.

  The healers connected Wyatt to me, then me to Lucy using specially crafted bands of copper. The bands were inscribed with a crap-ton of runes. I was being engulfed with magic—and I didn’t play well with magic.

  Hey, you. Crazy man, can you hear me?

  My inner loony was sulking again.

  Look, I need this to work. So don’t fight me when they fire up the spell.

  Why do you insist on letting our inferiors defile us?

  We’re not being defiled, we’re trying to help Lucy. I thought you liked Lucy?

  I find the witch desirable, that is all.

  Whatever. Just don’t pull any weird shit, okay?

  As you wish.

  Elyse leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

  “Hey, they’re hooking me up to the Mr. Wizard machine too,” Wyatt said.

  Elyse smiled and gave Wyatt a peck on the cheek. Wyatt smiled with a little too much self-satisfaction.

  “Hey kid, don’t get used to that,” I said.

  Wyatt smirked at me. Then Maddie also leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. The kid started to hyperventilate and I thought he was going to pop. Frowning, one of the healers waved a hand over Wyatt’s head, performing some sort of calming mojo and the kid settled down

  I winked at Wyatt. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  He gave me a weak smile.

  “We’re ready,” said Cynthia. “Remember, you two. Even though you will only be inside a dream, most likely a memory, Lucy’s magic will make it real. I dare say it will be indiscernible from the real world.”

  “Is time the same? Will an hour there be an hour here?” I asked.

  “We don’t know,” Cynthia shook her head. “The histories are vague on many points. The one thing not in question is the fact that you can be hurt, even killed, if you’re not careful.”

  I glanced at Elyse. She had her poker face on.

  “So, we’re talking about a real life Matrix,” said Wyatt.

  “Matrix?” Cynthia said, confused.

  “Elyse or Maddie can explain it,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

  The two healers closed their eyes, placing their hands over Wyatt and me.

  Nothing happened.

  “Orson, do you feel any—” Wyatt’s question was swallowed up by what sounded like a hurricane wind.

  Whooooosh!

  There was no sensation, just the whoosh-wind sound.

  Then I was free-falling through space.

  This couldn’t be good.

  CHAPTER 3

  The phone was on like its seventh ring. Lucy was afraid Morgan’s answering machine was going to pick up. Lucy was back in her room, but everything was not okay. Lucy’s skin felt like it was on fire, she couldn’t cool off. She had tossed her robe and both towels, and was lying spread-eagle on her bed with the ceiling fan on high, and still she was sweating.

  It was so gross. She never sweated.

  Morgan finally picked up. “Hello.”

  Lucy took a deep breath and began speaking so fast that all of her words ran together, but she didn’t care. “Morgan, something went wrong I was in the bath and there was tingling and buzzing but then there was a woman with creepy eyes and then there was a shadow-monster and I’m sure it ate the woman—”

  “Whoa. Lucy, slow down, I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

  Lucy took another breath and managed to calmly say, “I did my ritual bath today.”

  “Great, so did I. That was the plan right? So
we could compare notes?”

  “Yes, that was the plan,” Lucy said, evenly. “So, let’s compare. Did you have a creepy-eyed woman show up in your bathroom?” Lucy couldn’t help it, her voice ratcheted-up with each word. “Or how about a boogeyman monster with a mouth full of shark teeth?” Lucy was shouting again, and starting to cry.

  “Hey. Lucy, whoa. Calm down, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

  “It’s not okay, Morgan, there are monsters in my bathroom. I think the ritual bath opened a Hell-portal or something.”

  Morgan laughed.

  “Morgan Derrick Crawford, you better not be laughing at me,” Lucy’s fear turned to white-hot anger in an instant.

  “Jeez, all three names? Really? Come on, you’re joking with me, right?” Morgan snorted.

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?”

  Morgan stopped laughing and the line went silent for a moment.

  “Lucy, you’re kind of starting to freak me out.”

  “Good,” Lucy said, satisfied. “Because I’m losing my mind over here.” The fear had returned and there was a tremor in her voice. “Morgan, what if I did something wrong and something, I don’t know, escaped from somewhere?”

  “Lucy, that can’t happen. All of this magic stuff, it’s just for fun, you know. It’s not real.”

  “Can you please come over?”

  “Of course, I’m on my way.”

  “Wait!” Lucy shouted. “Please don’t hang up, I’m really scared.”

  “Lucy, I’ve got to hang up if you want me to drive over.”

  “Okay,” Lucy said quietly, crying again.

  “You’re really scared, aren’t you? Isn’t somebody else home? Your mom or Jason?”

  “Yes,” Lucy said, in between sobs.

  “Then you need to hang up and go sit with them until I get there, okay?”

  “I don’t have any clothes on.”

  The line went silent again.

  “Morgan?” Lucy said in a panic.

  “Yeah, I’m here. I was just trying not to think about you naked and wet from the shower.”

  Lucy let out a sob-laugh-snort. “Ugh, perverted much?”