A Touch of Magic

by Isabelle Adler

  “Do you know what that thing really does?” Leland glanced briefly at Cary. “It opens a portal between worlds. Just imagine being able to summon a force greater than anything you’ve ever known, witnessing magic that we can only dream of in our reality. Pure, wild, untainted magic, wielded by beings of terrible power—and it’s all yours to control if you’re strong enough to bend it to your will.”

  “You’re going to summon…demons?” Cary asked, because it sounded more like the ramblings of a madman or the premise of a cheesy horror flick than something a sane person would do, power-thirsty though he might be. He looked at Vincent again, to check whether he was as taken aback by the demented scenario, but Vincent’s face showed no sign of surprise.

  “Not demons.” Vincent had caught him looking, apparently, because he was the one to answer, his voice gruff. “We’re going to open the door to Faerie.”

  “That’s right, my boy,” Leland said into Cary’s stunned silence. “And you’re going to play a star role in the show.”

  Chapter Twenty

  TY HAD TO award the Giordanos extra points for preparedness. As he watched from his vantage point at the barn entrance, he could see the approaching light of no less than three SUVs coming toward the house. It was a clear night, the air crisp and carrying the promise of a cold winter to come. The moon shone brightly over the hill, its pox-covered face so much sharper than in an urban environment.

  As the cars approached, all other noises hushed, the nightlife spooked by the unfamiliar rumble of the engines. Ty leaned on the scratched door frame, the cigarette in his hand trailing smoke that mingled with his breath, coming out in small puffs, momentarily white against the backdrop of surrounding darkness. He didn’t stir even as the SUVs stopped at the end of the driveway, just behind his shiny convertible, and about a dozen men armed with heavy semiautomatics poured out, spreading around the house and the barn.

  Unlike the vain and dapper cinematic villains, Tony and Leticia had traded their designer suits for more casual attire. Neither of them was any less impressive in jeans and biker jackets as they climbed out of their vehicle. Leticia, with her hair in a low ponytail and a determined look on her face, looked especially ready for combat. Tony, on the other hand, appeared much more relaxed. But then again, he was used to relying on other people to fight for him—like Angelo Rossi, who followed the dynamic duo with his gun already drawn, surveying the surroundings. Cary was nowhere to be seen, and the darkened windows made it impossible to peer into the SUVs.

  Tony’s mouth pressed into a hard line when he saw Ty lounging against the barn door. He definitely wasn’t pleased at not having arrived first. He picked his way along the gravel toward the barn, giving the house a wide berth. Perhaps by now he was familiar enough with the history of this place to let his distaste show, much like Sebastian had. Rossi shadowed his approach, while his sister remained close to the vehicles.

  Ty stubbed out the cigarette on the wooden door and stepped forward to meet them.

  “Where’s your roller friend?” Rossi’s weapon was trained on Ty, but his attention was divided between him and the potential threats lurking around them in the shadows.

  “He ain’t here. This is just between us,” Ty said. “Isn’t that right, Giordano?”

  “Cut the crap,” the mobster said curtly. “Where’s my amulet?”

  “Where’s my ring?” Ty countered. It was safer to let Giordano think he cared more about it than he did about Cary. It was never a good idea to let your enemy—or even your so-called friends, for that matter—know exactly where your soft spots were. Even if it was rather late in the game to worry about subterfuge of that sort.

  Tony lifted his left hand, and the narrow band on his index finger glinted in the moonlight.

  “Sweet,” Ty said, though it didn’t look like Tony was planning on taking it off any time soon. “And my partner?”

  Tony shook his head, almost apologetically. “I want to see the amulet first.”

  It wasn’t at all hard to guess that Ty was going to get shot the moment he took out the goddamn pendant. No one was going to resort to half measures this time around. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I don’t have it.”

  The game they were playing wasn’t unlike poker. Everyone was bluffing in some way or other, and only those who kept their cool had any hope of winning. Unfazed, Tony raised an eyebrow.

  “That puts us at an impasse. So what are we doing here, exactly?”

  It was beginning to bother him that he couldn’t see Cary anywhere. Had Bas been right? Had Ty dallied too long, taking his sweet time arranging the drop-off? Had Tony decided to dispose of any potential nuisances, and was Cary already dead? Had he miscalculated once more, with Cary yet again being the distraction that wreaked havoc on all his plans?

  To hell with the plans, he just wanted the distraction.

  “The deal was the ring and my partner for your little trinket, and I ain’t seeing him anywhere,” Ty said. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Leticia making her way toward them, flanked by two burly guys.

  “I’m getting tired of this shit,” Tony announced. “I was willing to let you off the hook because apparently you’re a useful man to know in the business. But you know what, I’m not buying that anymore. There are plenty of other burglars to go around, magic or no magic. If you don’t hand me the amulet in the next thirty seconds, we’ll see if you’re as lucky with bullets as you are with heights.”

  “If you shoot me, you won’t know where it’s at.”

  “I’ll take the chance,” Tony said. “It’ll be easier to search for it with you out of the way. So, what’ll it be?”

  To emphasize his words, Rossi raised his gun and took aim at Ty’s head.

  Ty shrugged. He was walking a fine line with Giordano’s patience, but so far this was playing out exactly as he’d predicted. Aside from the ambiguity regarding Cary’s fate, that is. The scheme he’d devised with Bas hinged on Cary being there—as a hostage, perhaps even wounded or hurt, but present. There was hardly any point, otherwise.

  He let the silence stretch for a few more seconds, considering his course of action while making it look as if he was letting his defeat sink in. But at this point, his best bet was proceeding as he’d originally planned. If Cary was here, he’d find him. Finally, he nodded toward the barn entrance.

  “It’s in there.”

  Tony, looking more impatient than smug, turned to Rossi and gestured for him to go in. “Check it out. You,” he said to Ty, “stay where you are.”

  Ty made sure to throw Rossi a dirty look as the man shoved past him through the door and disappeared inside. A subtle glare cut through the darkness as Rossi turned on a flashlight and moved around.

  “So what about that ring?” Ty asked, hoping to cover any noises that might come from the barn.

  “I bet you could’ve used it on that rooftop,” Leticia said as she came to stand by her brother’s side. “Then again, your little sorcerer buddy wouldn’t have been able to save your neck with his magic. Either way, you’re very hard to get rid of.”

  “Like a cockroach,” Tony muttered without taking his eyes off the doorway. “What’s taking so long?”

  “Boss, I think you should come see this.” Rossi’s muffled voice came from somewhere deep inside. Tony and Leticia exchanged a look.

  “Stay here and secure the premises,” Tony ordered the guards that had accompanied his sister. “And search him.”

  One of them nodded and proceeded to quickly pat Ty down while the other one held him at gunpoint. Ty scowled, but held still with his arms stretched out until the search was over.

  “He’s clear,” the guard said, stepping back.

  “Good. Now get inside,” Tony told Ty, probably judging it safer to keep him in his sight.

  He didn’t have to pull out his own weapon to force Ty into doing it. They both knew Leticia’s presence was just as effective as a loaded gun in terms of intimidation. So
Ty stepped inside, with Tony and Leticia following closely on his heels. The sorceress snapped her fingers, and a soft fluorescent-like light flooded the barn interior.

  At first, it looked like the interior of any other barn on any other farm aside from the signs of advanced disrepair. Rotting hay was stacked along the walls, from which also hung pieces of tack. In the corner, an old plow was slowly rusting away and various remnants of farm equipment were piled haphazardly all over the floor. But there was something else. A huge block of gray granite—a perfectly smooth rectangular cuboid rock—stood near the far wall. There were wooden steps leading up to it on each side, and chains hung from the rafters right above it. If one were to look closely, narrow drain slits could be seen at the corners of the stone block.

  It was clearly some sort of altar. An elaborate sigil was painted on the wall behind it, the brownish paint beginning to peel off in places. The pattern was marred by smears of soot, but the entwined runes making up geometric shapes were still clearly visible. The ghostly stench of blood and death was so strong it almost made Ty gag. He knew the others couldn’t sense it, especially over the smell of damp straw and decay, and he pushed down the wave of nausea that rose up in his throat. Whoever had died on this altar was long gone. He had to keep his shit together and focus on the living.

  Angelo Rossi stood to the side of the altar, his weapon lowered in his slackened hand. Sebastian Monroe, half-hidden behind the massive stone monolith, grinned and waved at Ty. The etched disk of the amulet dangled from his hand on a new chain, a pendulum gone haywire.

  “You,” Leticia sneered as her attention locked on Bas. “I should have known I’d see you again. Haven’t you had enough?”

  “What can I say? I can’t resist the lure of a beautiful woman,” Bas said with a smirk.

  “Rossi, shoot him,” Tony ordered, but his right-hand man remained motionless, his eyes riveted on the amulet swinging to and fro in Sebastian’s hand.

  “He’s under his spell,” Leticia said, somewhat unnecessarily.

  Tony swore and turned on his heel to call on his security backup, but at the same moment, a cold blue fire erupted along the entrance to the barn. The suddenness of it made them all recoil and shield their eyes against the glare.

  Leticia was the first to recover. She hissed and threw some sort of spell against the newly erected barrier of flames, but they held. By now they would have spread all around the barn, effectively cutting off all access and outside noise like an impenetrable cocoon. Bas had spent hours drawing the runic script on the ground all around the barn with barely minutes to spare before show time, but the prep had been worth it. The runes were drawing energy directly from the earth, feeding the spell and keeping it alive.

  In the momentary stunned silence, Ty dove for cover behind the altar a split second before Tony had a chance to gather his wits and draw his weapon on him. It wasn’t lost on anyone that Ty—non-magical, unarmed and unprotected—was the most vulnerable guy in the room. A bullet whizzed past him, chipping the corner of the stone block and ricocheting off the wall. Had Cary been there, he’d have grabbed him. But as things stood, Ty had to get himself and Bas away while the others remained locked in the barn with no chance of immediate escape.

  “You’re not going to get away with this!” Tony informed him.

  “The hell I ain’t,” Ty muttered.

  At least Ty didn’t have to worry about Cary getting caught in the crossfire. Please, let him be somewhere safe, he prayed silently to whatever deity would deign to listen.

  Another blast hit the edge of the altar, this time coming from the left. Bas ducked behind it too, evading Leticia’s charge, which sent an explosion of green sparks flying into the air as it hit the stone near him. It barely missed Rossi’s head, and he dropped to the ground with a curse as the power that held him spellbound snapped. He grunted and grabbed the gun that’d fallen out of his hand. Tony remained quite unaffected, the magic blasts dissolving around him as if an invisible shield protected him.

  Damn, Ty needed that ring back so bad.

  “You’re up!” Bas shouted.

  Ty hardly needed the reminder. The air sizzled and crackled above his head as volleys of Leticia’s deadly energy broke against Bas’s impromptu blocking spells, but it couldn’t go on for much longer. They were literally seconds away from being shot by the two mobsters while their focus was on handling the sorceress.

  Ty reached into the space between the wooden steps that surrounded the altar, scraping his knuckles raw, and pulled out the SIG he’d stashed there. But the weapon wasn’t his ultimate goal. He reached deeper into the recess and fumbled around for the lever to the hidden mechanism. The original design required that whoever was conducting the ritual had only to activate the lever by foot, but he had to apply all his weight to push it down by hand.

  Something under the floorboards creaked, but otherwise nothing happened.

  “Ty, now, for fuck’s sake!”

  Another bullet hit the wall behind him, right at the edge of the sigil, and Ty flattened himself on the floor. Rossi was advancing on them from the left, under the cover of Leticia’s charges, and there was only so much Bas could do to hold all of them back.

  Ty pushed the lever again, grunting with the effort, but the mechanism that was supposed to open a trap door that led to a secret passageway beneath the altar wouldn’t budge. It had either been deactivated or was too rusted with disuse.

  Shit. This was going nowhere. He and Bas were now trapped as effectively as he’d planned on the Giordanos being at this point. Ty bitterly regretted not testing the mechanism beforehand, but he could hardly have done so without its moving parts disturbing the dust and debris covering the floor, causing suspicion. He remembered it working perfectly a few years ago, and that was why he’d relied on it coming through today. Apparently, his luck had run dry.

  Ceasing his futile efforts, he grabbed the gun and fired a few rounds at Rossi without stopping to see if he’d hit his mark. Bas scrambled to get out of the line of fire, and another blast of angry energy scorched the floor and steps behind him. Bas cried out in pain and rolled on the ground, clutching at his leg where the fabric of his trousers now hung in burnt tatters around seared flesh.

  “Fuck.”

  Ty sprang to his feet and leaned over the altar, both hands on the gun in a steady hold. If they were going to die here, at least he could take out the serpent’s head. Hot green sparks whirled around his head like fireworks, but he paid them no mind as he took aim. He just hoped that if he managed to take Tony out, it would give Cary some chance of making it out alive, wherever he was.

  But he didn’t have the opportunity to take a shot as the sound of an explosion tore through the barn. The ramshackle structure shook, and dust rained down from the rafters. The blue flames that had been blocking the entrance went out as if someone had pulled a switch, and sounds of screams and moans drifted in from the outside on the sudden blast of cold wind.

  “The hell—” Tony began, taking a step toward the door. But he stopped as a dark figure appeared on the threshold and stepped inside, into the soft light of the magical illumination that still engulfed the barn. The newcomer looked around, taking in the scene with sharp eyes.

  “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Leland said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  TONY GIORDANO WAS the first to break the silence.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m hearing this question quite a lot today. But let us skip the introductions for now. I’m only here to take back what should have been mine in the first place.”

  Ty couldn’t take his eyes off Leland as he strode the length of the barn toward the stone altar with a pronounced limp in his right leg. He was dimly aware of Rossi pointing his gun at him, and of Bas huddling on the floor at his feet, but all he could focus on was the man walking toward him, casually oblivious to the drawn weapons and the magic floating around the cavernous space. Ty’s thoughts seemed to scatter like a flock
of birds spooked by the crack of a shotgun. How? Why? What was Leland doing here?

  But for all his shock, Ty couldn’t fool himself into believing Leland had come with any sort of benevolent purpose. He straightened, pulling himself together mentally and physically. Facing his former mentor hadn’t been easy at the best of times, and he had a feeling this was when it would all come to a head between them.

  Instinctively sensing the threat from the older man, the Giordano siblings moved to stand shoulder to shoulder in front of the altar. Tony raised his gun, while Leticia’s fingertips glowed bright green with unreleased energy.

  “Hold it right there, old man—” Leticia began.

  “You know what, I don’t think so.”

  A wave of unseen force, like an aftershock of a tremendous explosion, rolled through the barn. It shook again, the old wood creaking pitifully. One of the supporting posts snapped with a loud crack. The blast threw everyone to the ground, with only Leland and Tony left standing. Ty’s gun went flying out of his hand, landing somewhere behind a stack of moldy hay.

  As Ty hauled himself upright, he saw Tony, unaffected as he was by this show of strength, rush to help his sister get back on her feet. But she ignored him. Undaunted, she flung out her hand, her elegant fingers curved like claws. Fire sprang around Leland, bright yellow-green flames engulfing him and nearly obscuring his form.

  But the fire died as suddenly as it had appeared. Tendrils of smoke rose from the scorched floorboards beneath his feet, and a strong smell of burnt sulfur wafted through the air, but as Leland stepped out of the blackened circle, not a single mark marred his clothes and skin. Ty heard Rossi’s sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t turn to look at the man.

  “Amateurs,” Leland said with utter contempt, and Leticia’s dark clothes caught on fire, the flames seeming to descend on her out of thin air.

  “What did you do?! Stop it!” She shrieked in pain and outrage, instinctively swatting at the flames in a desperate attempt to put them out.