I held my breath for a moment, following Astrid’s line of reasoning, then looked up at Harley. “Why did you want Astrid to look into Sál Vinna?” I asked her.
“Isadora told me about it. She said not to believe everything I read about my dad, and to look into that spell,” she replied, her voice uneven.
We were both thinking the same thing at that point. I could see it on her face. “You think your father was under the influence of Sál Vinna when he… did what he did?”
“We’re considering the possibility, yes,” Wade said.
“We definitely think that Oberon was cursed with Sál Vinna by Katherine and got himself killed with it. He couldn’t move on as a spirit, and he took the curse with him,” Astrid continued. “From the moment you let him in, he had a plan to get back to Katherine. His spirit is still obsessed with her.”
“The point is,” Dylan said, “this wasn’t your fault, Tatyana. Oberon knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t going to leave your body even if you told him no. He was going to fight you for it. Nothing was going to stand between him and Katherine.”
“Though, he probably had no idea where to even begin looking for her,” Santana said.
“And even if he were to find her, chances are that Katherine would’ve chopped his head off. Well, your head. Sorry,” Harley replied. “You dodged a bullet with that guy.”
“We do appreciate the fact that you saw this as an opportunity to help our team,” Wade said to me, then squeezed my shoulder. “You had good intentions.”
“Shoddy execution.” I scoffed.
“All Oberon’s fault.” Harley sighed. She looked at Wade. “If my father was under Sál Vinna, too, that might explain a few things, including Finch’s account of my father getting back together with Katherine, then killing my mom and the other magicals.”
“There should be mortuary records available,” Astrid said. “Photos, for sure. They wouldn’t have had to do an autopsy on Hiram Merlin, since they knew exactly what killed him—they did.”
“Would they be in the New York Coven?” Harley asked.
Wade nodded. “Probably. But not available to the magical public.”
“Let me check,” Astrid said. She took the tablet back and did her magic through the inter-coven electronic database. She pouted as the results came back. “There are no electronic copies. Which is kind of weird.”
“How’d you get access?” Wade asked, clearly surprised.
Astrid gave him a playful smirk. “I’ve got higher clearance than you, it seems,” she replied, chuckling.
“So, what, there are only hard copies?” Harley cut back in.
Astrid nodded. “The covens were supposed to have digitized everything over the past ten years,” she said. “Including all the data they had from judgments, executions, investigations, autopsies, and so on. This is a bit odd, if you ask me.”
“I may have to make my way up to New York to check the archives myself,” Harley concluded. “I’m sure Alton will sign off on that. I have to find out whether my father was under Sál Vinna. If he was, then he was definitely innocent. Like he said…”
Santana cried out in pain, dropping to her knees. Bright blue-and-green Orishas shot out from inside her, chaotically darting through the infirmary.
“What the… What’s happening?” Harley gasped.
Raffe helped Santana up. She was trembling from head to toe. I froze. I knew exactly what all this meant.
“The charms,” Santana panted. “They all went off at the same time. Every single one I put in. Something happened to the kids… the families… something bad.”
Harley turned white as a sheet of paper. “The Ryder twins made their move.”
Thirty-Three
Harley
Nothing could keep Tatyana in bed at that point. We all rushed into Astrid’s computer room, a place I rarely visited but always found myself in awe of. An entire wall was covered by giant screens, connected to the central AI node, which, in turn, was powered by a dozen processing units.
Astrid connected her tablet to the node directly through a slim cable and proceeded to pull up the information she’d gathered so far, as well as live CCTV footage from different parts of the city. Wade got on the phone with the magical security command center and had them dispatch more people to each of the houses we’d been to.
Santana was breathing heavily and sweating, her Orishas nervously buzzing around the room, while Dylan held Tatyana close, with one arm snaked around her waist.
“They’re sending people to each magical location,” Wade said, once he got off the phone. “I told them to expect the worst.”
“We can’t cover them all ourselves,” Santana replied. “We can’t do anything there, now. We need to find the Ryders. If the kids are gone, we know they’ll be with them.”
“The Ryders wouldn’t be able to pull off a mass kidnapping by themselves, though. They must have some help,” Raffe said, frowning.
“Where can we start looking for them?” I asked, fear clutching and crushing my heart. “Where could they possibly be hiding?”
Tatyana gasped. “Oh. I think I know,” she said. “I was looking into something in the archives last night, just before Oberon kicked me out. I met a guy, a spirit, who’d once helped the Ryders out some years back. He regretted that because they ended up squatting in his house. Anyway, he said that based on what I was looking for and what he knew about the Ryders, they’d likely be shacked up in a warehouse or abandoned property.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t open up a rogue interdimensional pocket,” Wade agreed. “That requires Bestiary energy, and we’d be immediately notified.”
“Exactly. So, he suggested we look into the Chula Vista area,” Tatyana replied. “It’s got easy access to both the highway and the ocean, and it has good links into the city and the neighborhoods where our magical watchlist resides.”
Astrid nodded as she typed the data into the system. After a few minutes of searching, she pulled up three possible locations: two warehouses and an abandoned residential property, all within reasonable distance of the freeway.
“This is what Smartie came up with,” she said. “I added Chula Vista into the parameters we’ve already gathered, starting with the gargoyle incidents and everyone involved.”
“Okay, so, how do these three places fit in?” I asked, frowning as I stared at the screen.
Astrid opened the detail files for each property, then exhaled as she pointed at a warehouse on the water’s edge. “That right there. I think that’s it.”
“What makes you say tha—oh…” I mumbled, noticing the detail lines.
My blood ran cold.
“Look who rented it for the past couple of years paid up in advance,” Astrid said.
“Finch Anker,” I read out loud. “Holy. Crap.”
A minute passed in dreadful silence as we all made the connection. We already knew the Ryders worked with Katherine Shipton, but we weren’t sure of the extent of her network, barring what Isadora had told me about her spies being everywhere. Seeing Finch pop up again further enforced my original assessments: they were all connected, and they all had different plans to carry out, independent of each other. I hadn’t voiced this before, nor was I ready to do it now. Everything we had was still circumstantial.
I had a feeling the contents of that warehouse might shed some light—not to mention the Ryders, whom I was dying to take down in shackles.
“Okay. Let’s gear up, then,” Wade said. “Security is looking into the magicals and their families. We need to get these bastards.”
Twenty minutes later, I had Garrett, Dylan, and Tatyana in my Daisy, driving fast behind Wade’s Jeep. Santana, Astrid, and Raffe were with him.
“Thanks for taking me along for the ride,” Garrett said from the passenger seat.
Blood rushed through my veins with enough force to power an entire city. The adrenaline had me plugged in, my gaze darting all over the place as I tried to focus exclusiv
ely on the road. My stomach was churning, a thousand thoughts booming through my head at once.
“We need the extra pair of magical hands,” I replied, gripping the wheel to the point where my knuckles turned white.
“Harley, what about Isadora?” Tatyana asked me. I’d already told them about her in the morning. “Do you have any way of getting in touch with her?”
I shook my head. “I tried. She’ll be the one to reach out to me, and I don’t know what the hell she’s doing right now,” I said. “I wouldn’t count on her if I were you. There’s still so much about her that we don’t know.”
“But she did help you,” Garrett chimed in. “I doubt she’s a baddie in this picture.”
“I didn’t say she’s bad. I just don’t think she’s reliable. She should’ve come to me by now,” I replied. “She’s on the run, anyway. Everybody wants her for what she can do, for what she knows.”
“Ugh, right. Portal Opener.” Tatyana sighed. “That’s a tough act to follow.”
“Maybe something happened to her,” Dylan said.
We reached Chula Vista, the sun rising over the ocean and a multitude of storage facilities lining that portion of the shore. Wade sped up, prompting me to slam the accelerator to keep up. We both stopped with a spine-tingling screech outside the warehouse in question.
I took a moment to quickly glance around. It looked abandoned—one large unit with black walls and a metallic roof, flanked by other similar boxes. There weren’t any cars around, or any sign of people in the area. The place looked downright deserted. Behind it, a narrow, overgrown road connected the storage facility to the main access route we’d come down from. A wavy strip of wilderness and sand stretched beyond it, leading to the ocean.
We climbed out of the car, reuniting with Wade and the others. The look on his face told me he didn’t have good news from the security units he’d sent out.
“Four parents dead, three in critical condition. All the kids missing,” he said, his voice low.
It felt like a punch in the gut. “They took them,” I replied, swallowing back tears. “What about the eyes we had on them?”
“All dead,” Wade said.
I had to take a deep breath to stop the crippling fear from taking over. We were dealing with coldblooded magical killers. The lives of twelve innocent children were now at risk, including Micah, Min-Ho, Marjorie, Mina, Samson, Louella, and the others. Then again, we didn’t know whether any of them, besides Kenneth Willow, had willingly joined forces with the Ryders. They were recruiting, after all.
“Okay. How do we do this?” I asked, trying to stay focused on the mission.
“Astrid, stay back here,” Wade replied. “Be ready to call for backup,” he added, putting on his Bluetooth earpiece. “The rest of us will circle the warehouse, check for signs of life, then go in through the front door. We’re already here. If they’re inside, they know we’re coming at this point. Stay on your toes.”
We all nodded and split up into two groups. Wade took me, Santana, and Raffe, while Garrett took Tatyana and Dylan. We headed for the east side, and Garrett handled the west. We moved quietly along the walls, listening carefully for any kind of movement or voices, but we didn’t hear anything. There was nothing but silence.
My stomach was tied up in knots, the anticipation causing beads of sweat to trickle down my temples. We met back in front of the storage unit and exchanged curious glances.
“A little too quiet for my taste,” Garrett whispered.
Wade gave him a brief nod. Something was definitely better between these two. Mainly, I wasn’t getting bad vibes from Wade anymore.
Raffe looked at the extremely wide and tall metal roll-up door, then crouched and checked its lock. Garrett joined him, taking out a slim leather pouch. He produced a steel rod with bent ends, which he used to pick the lock.
I raised an eyebrow. “Really, Garrett?”
“What? I’m keeping my career options open, in case this warlock thing doesn’t pan out,” he shot back with a devilish grin, then took the lock off and got up.
Raffe pulled the door up, leaving a two-and-a-half-yard height of space for us to walk through.
It was dark inside. Wade found the light switch to his right and pressed it.
As soon as the overhead neon strips flickered on, I knew we’d come upon a treasure trove of disturbing yet crucial information. There were dozens of wooden crates and storage boxes, each with an individual lock. We spread out to check everything. In the middle was a large table, with piles of books and manuscripts, rogue sheets of paper, and notepads with frantic scribbles. One quick look, and I realized I was looking at spells and curse alterations.
“They’re using stolen magic,” Wade said, his brow furrowed as he checked the papers. “They got some of these from our coven. I’m guessing the rest came from other covens. They’re modifying and adjusting their recipes and chants.”
“And they have plenty of supplies to go with them,” Santana said, watching as Garrett picked the lock on one of the crates and revealed its contents. It was filled with bottles and jars, strange powders and herbs. The smell alone was enough to make me quiver. “This is all Dark stuff. Like, evil. The predecessor of evil, actually.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“At first glance? This is ancient mojo,” Garrett explained. “Think two to three thousand years back. It’s the kind of stuff that should’ve been lost in the annals of history. Egyptian, Greek, Celtic… dealer’s choice. It’s raw and difficult to work with.”
“Which would explain these alterations,” Wade concluded, pointing at the notes. “They’re refurbishing the classics.”
“Guys. Look at this,” Dylan said, stopping by the eastern wall.
We all joined him, to find a giant corkboard mounted on it. Red string and colored pins had been used to connect various locations and notes. There were printed photos all over it. I held my breath as I recognized all the kids we’d been looking for. Micah Cranston, Marjorie Phillips, Mina Travis, Min-Ho Lee, Samson Prescott, Kenneth Willow, and a few others. Their snapshots were all marked. There was a tick next to Micah, Mina, Min-Ho, Samson, and four more kids under the age of twelve. Marjorie’s head was circled in red. Louella Devereaux was crossed out, as were her parents.
Then, I noticed the other photos—all the parents. Half of them were crossed out, like the Devereauxes. I was paralyzed by the conclusion. “They crossed out the dead people… The ones they killed,” I whispered.
Kenneth Willow and three other teenagers were separated from the cluster, with little hearts drawn in red around their faces. I assumed that was psycho Emily Ryder’s way of pointing out that they’d gotten these kids on their side. It made me sick to my stomach.
“Look here.” Tatyana pointed at several Post-It notes. “These are all details of their abilities.”
“Who’s this?” Raffe asked, narrowing his eyes at another photo mounted on the other side of the board. There were several red strings connected to it.
I moved over to get a better look, and instantly froze. I recognized the light brown skin, the deep-set eyes, and crow-black hair, and around it all was a very angry circle. Crippling fear took over.
They know about Jacob.
Thirty-Four
Harley
I was unable to think. My brain was frozen, each synapse glitching with dread like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I’d been scared out of my mind in the past, but not like this. I’d let Isadora and her cabbie/little helper Dicky keep an eye on Jacob. I’d been comfortable with that idea, thinking that the Ryders didn’t know about him.
But they did.
They were just saving the best for last. Based on how they’d marked all the other people, it did seem like they’d yet to catch him. But that hardly made me feel any better.
I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I had to tell Wade and the others. However, I’d been hiding this from them for a while, now. Gah, they’re going to be so
, so mad.
“Are you okay?” Wade asked me, noticing my expression.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Jacob’s photo, partially because I was about to tell Wade about him, and I was fearful of looking him in the eyes as I did it.
“Um, no,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Call a support unit over here,” Garrett told Santana, somewhere in the background of my unraveling horror picture show. “We need all this bagged up and taken back to the coven.”
She did as asked, moving away from the corkboard to make the phone call.
“What’s wrong?” Wade pressed. I could feel his eyes on me. My skin burned.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” I said.
The silence that followed confirmed what I’d been fearful of. Wade was about to get really, really mad.
“Harley. What’s going on? Do you know him?” Wade asked, pointing a finger at Jacob. “If we’re to compare what we know with the markings on this board, they’ve yet to catch him.”
“His name is Jacob. Jacob Morales,” I said. “He’s sixteen. A foster kid and a magical, like me.”
“How do you know him?” Raffe asked. “He’s not on our list.”
“He wouldn’t be. He’s kept to himself, stayed under the radar, learned a few tricks to control his abilities along the way,” I explained. “He’s afraid of discovery… of the covens.”
“That doesn’t answer Raffe’s question,” Wade said sharply. “How do you know him?”
“The Smiths took him in a few weeks back. My Smiths.” I sighed.
“And you didn’t tell us. You didn’t notify the coven, Alton… anyone,” Wade concluded.
Harley Merlin 2: Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins Page 30
