Cards of Death Box Set

Home > Other > Cards of Death Box Set > Page 16
Cards of Death Box Set Page 16

by Tamara Geraeds


  Vicky pushes me behind Phoenix. “Duck.”

  “Why?”

  “Sssh!”

  There’s a growl, followed by a man’s voice. “Quiet, Billy. I’m tired of you chasing air.” He pauses. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  A car rushes by and in the distance a door slams.

  “See,” Mr. Timson says. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re just a stupid dog.”

  I swallow the comment that rises in my throat about the dog being a demon. When all is quiet again, I rise to my feet and rub my ankle. “What was that?”

  D’Maeo opens the driver’s door for me. “It looks like someone put a protection spell on the house.”

  I slip into the seat and close the door. “Protection against what? Humans?”

  The ghosts float into the car. D’Maeo meets my eyes in the mirror. “Against people with a pure heart.”

  “That was a spell against good people? Does that make Mr. Timson evil? Then why should we protect him? Why save him?”

  D’Maeo shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s a bad man. Not yet at least.”

  “Really? No one in their right mind would frame their own brother.”

  Vicky taps the side of her head with her finger. “Love can do crazy things to the mind.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

  My mouth suddenly goes dry. “How come Paul could get in? Does that mean he’s evil?”

  I almost shudder at the thought.

  There’s an awkward silence in the car.

  “Or maybe he just got in because Mr. Timson invited him in.” I grab my phone from my pocket and open my contacts. For a moment my finger hovers above Paul’s name. Then I scroll back up and push Charlie’s.

  He answers almost immediately. “Hey mate.”

  “Hey,” I respond as cheerful as I can manage. It sounds fake to me, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s probably too preoccupied. “How’s Italy?”

  “Oh, it’s great man. A bit busy, but the weather is nice and the ice cream…”

  “Are you driving?”

  Charlie falls silent. I can clearly hear his engine and the traffic around him. “Yeah, we’re doing a tour today.”

  “Nice. Where to?”

  “Pisa.”

  I almost snort. Pisa, right. Boise, you mean. “Isn’t it like, the middle of the night there?”

  “Yeah, it was a long tour.” He fakes a yawn. “We’re almost back at the hotel.”

  Anger flares up inside me. If I talk to him any longer, I won’t be able to restrain myself. “Okay, have fun.”

  “Thanks.”

  He hangs up and I lower the phone.

  A hand on my shoulder startles me. It’s Vicky. For a moment I forgot the Shield was still there.

  “Sorry,” she says.

  “Thanks.” With a heavy sigh I put away my phone. I stare through the windshield. “Let’s think about Charlie and Paul later and focus on the Timson brothers for now. We finally know who is going to stab him and we also know why. We should try to get them together to talk.”

  D’Maeo nods. “That’s not a bad idea, but I think you should talk to Geoffrey first, and make sure he doesn’t frame his brother. That would make a conversation between them a lot easier.”

  I smile. “I agree.” I turn around to face Vicky. “If I talk myself in, can you influence his emotions?”

  “Sure, but how are you going to get us invited in?”

  I open my mouth, and close it again. “Good point.”

  Jeep flexes his fingers. “I can draw him out?”

  “And then what? I need a good reason to talk to him. I have to talk my way into his house.” I rest my chin in my hand and tap my lips with my finger. “But we’ll have to take care of the demon in the backyard first. I mean, we’ll have to do more than just keep it busy.”

  Jeep straightens his hat. “I can do that, with a little help from my friends.”

  “Great.” I step out of the car again and the ghosts follow. “Vicky comes with me, and the rest of you will keep the demon busy.” I nod to the tattooed ghost. “Jeep, you take the lead.”

  His eyes sparkle and he sets off towards Mr. Timson’s house with a big grin on his face. His hands are tangled in a series of complicated moves. It’s not just an upwards gesture anymore, I can tell he’s going all-in. His eyes are narrowed and his lips are moving rapidly.

  There’s a rumbling from all around us. On the whole street, grass is pushed up. Statues crash to the ground. Flowers, leaves and rocks fly everywhere.

  I clasp my hand over my mouth. “Oh no. The neighbors are not going to be happy.”

  “Don’t worry, they won’t know we caused it. It will just look like a minor earthquake to them,” Taylar assures me.

  I let out my breath. “Oh good.” Then I whip my head around to face him. I gesture towards the army of pets rising from the dead. “And how will they explain those?”

  D’Maeo ushers us along. “They won’t, because they can’t see them.”

  “But…”

  I can’t finish my questioning, because Jeep is beckoning the others. “Get ready to fight,” he yells with delight, before breaking into a run.

  The others follow him, weapons raised, determined looks on their faces. From all directions skeleton pets storm the back of the house.

  Vicky smiles at me. “Are you ready? Did you come up with a story to convince Mr. Timson?”

  I nod. “I did.”

  CHAPTER 24

  I limp to the front door and raise my hand. Then I remember what happened last time. “Uh… I can’t knock, so how am I going to get Mr. Timson’s attention?”

  Vicky picks up a handful of rocks and hands them to me.

  I step back and throw one at the door.

  Nothing happens, so I throw the other three, one by one.

  I hear footsteps on the other side. The door swings open. “Yes, can I help you?”

  Noise rises up from the back of the house. Growling and banging.

  Mr. Timson grits his teeth. “I’m sorry about that. My dog has gone crazy today.”

  “That’s okay.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Dante Parrot.”

  He shakes my hand. “Geoffrey Timson. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m here for the radio show Getting Back Together, where we try to work out problems between family members.”

  “Good one,” Vicky says.

  Mr. Timson’s eyes sweep my clothes.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” I say. “I’m not recording this. We like to meet possible participants first. Is it okay if I come in? It’s a bit hot out here.” That’s not even a lie. While I’m trying to talk my way in, the air gets sticky. It’s like a heat wave materializing out of nowhere. And although it matches my nerves, I’d rather get out of it.

  Mr. Timson’s eyes rest on my face. “Aren’t you a little young to host a radio show?”

  I try not to grit my teeth. I should have thought of that. “Oh, I’m not the host,” I say hastily. “I’m an intern. The host will do the actual interview if we all decide to go ahead with your story.”

  Mr. Timson takes off his fogged up glasses and wipes them on his shirt. “It is getting warm.”

  I clear my throat. “So, can I come in?”

  He falls silent, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. “Well, okay then. I guess it can’t hurt.” He places his glasses back on his nose. “Come in for a second.” The door swings open further and he gestures me inside.

  I step over the doorstep with bated breath. Vicky follows me quickly. After a few seconds we’re still in the house. No unseen force knocking me back onto the street. I try not to sigh with relief and look around the hallway. “Nice house.”

  Mr. Timson closes the door. “Thank you.” He walks into the kitchen and gazes out of the window. “Looks like that stupid dog finally settled down.” He turns and takes two cups from a cabinet. “I don’t know why I
got him in the first place. I don’t even like dogs.” He mumbles on, more to himself than to me, and I walk to the window.

  The demon is lying in a dog house. A slow stream of blue blood flows from its chin. Jeep steps into view and covers the red puddle with dirt. He turns to me and sticks up his thumb.

  “Well, I guess it’s not a bad idea to have a guard dog these days, right?”

  I whirl around to face Mr. Timson. “Right. Absolutely.”

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He leads me to the living room and points to the couch and chairs. “Wherever you like.”

  When I choose the nearest chair, he sits down on the couch. His back is straight and he looks at me expectantly. “So who sent you?”

  I clear my throat. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

  He frowns and I continue quickly. “We heard that there are some unspoken things between you and your brother, is that correct?”

  Something flares up in his eyes. It doesn’t look like normal anger or grief. There is a red spark in his pupils.

  “I don’t want to talk about that.” He crosses his arms with a stubborn look.

  Vicky leans over him. He stiffens for a moment, but then stands up as if nothing happened. “If you’re here to try and change something between me and George, you’re too late. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t think it’s ever too late. Family is important, and most things can be worked out if you just talk about it. Just be honest about what you feel and listen to each other.”

  Vicky gives me a surprised look. I’m pretty impressed with myself, too. Maybe I should become a psychiatrist.

  She whips back her dark hair. “I can’t reach him. He’s under a spell.”

  “Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance, Mr. Timson?” I continue. “You can talk to him in private, and if you work it out, you can talk about it on our show. How’s that?”

  He stands up. “I don’t think so. Thank you for your effort, but this is a lost cause.”

  I refuse to give in so quickly, spell or no spell. “I’m sorry to hear that. What if we went to George first? If he wants to talk to you, would you…”

  As soon as I mention his brother’s name, Mr. Timson’s face changes completely. There’s more than a strange spark in his pupils now. His eyes turn completely red and his whole body stiffens. He points a finger at me. “You are not welcome here. Get out now.”

  I step around him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Timson. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You are not welcome here. Get out now.”

  “Yes, Mr. Timson.”

  He follows me to the door and when I look over my shoulder, his body is trembling and his skin is gray. “You are not welcome here. Get out now.”

  “Yes, you said that already.”

  Vicky pulls me away. “Come on, his mind is no longer his. There’s nothing we can do as long as the spell is active. We’ll have to find another way.”

  The door slams behind us and we walk back to the car. The rest of the Shield is waiting for us.

  “No luck?” Taylar asks.

  We shake our heads. While Vicky explains what happened, I take out my phone and google George Timson. “Get in the car. We’re going to see his brother.”

  We arrive at George Timson’s house at ten.

  I gasp. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  There’s a cordon of demons sealing George’s house off from the street. The light from the lampposts illuminates their hulking bodies.

  One of them steps forward and my mouth falls open. “That looks like the one we fought at Darkwood Manor.”

  Jeep takes off his hat and grips the edge tightly. “It is. It’s guarding Mr. Timson’s house.”

  “Along with a whole army. How many of these bastards are there?” My voice rises in disbelief.

  Jeep shakes his head. “We won’t be able to fight all of them. We don’t even know how to defeat this…” He searches for the right word, “this head demon. And somehow I doubt a distraction is going to work.”

  “So killing the brother is out of the question,” Taylar adds.

  “I was never going to kill him,” I shout.

  The demon’s heads turn in our direction. They open their mouths to show their pointy teeth. Vapor fogs up the garden.

  Smoke rises from my tires as I shift into reverse and hit the gas. I grit my teeth when a sharp pain shoots through my ankle. When we reach the corner I glance in my mirror. “They’re not following us.”

  Jeep tips his hat back and forth in his hands. “As I said, I doubt a distraction is going to work.”

  “I wasn’t trying to distract them,” I snap. “I was trying not to get eaten.”

  D’Maeo intervenes. “Okay, okay, let’s take a deep breath.”

  I take his advice and we drive in silence for a while.

  Vicky leans forward. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “We’re supposed to save Mr. Timson.”

  I grunt. “I know that, but we don’t have a clue how, do we? So I’m going home to take a look at my father’s notebook again. A quiet look. After I sleep for twelve hours. I’m dropping all of you off at the manor. I have to clear my head. Also, my Mom is probably worried.”

  To my surprise none of the ghosts argue. Then I remember. I’m the master, they have to do what I tell them. So I add, “It would be nice if you guys could do some research, too. Find something to free Mr. Timson from this spell he’s under. I’ll come back to the house tomorrow morning.”

  The rest of the way I try to think of easier ways to fight these ice demons, but nothing comes to mind.

  The thought of new plans cheers me up a bit. After I drop the ghosts off at Darkwood Manor, I drive home quickly. For a second I think I see Simon standing in the middle of Oak Lane. But when I look in my mirror, the dark road is empty. I rub my eyes. It must be exhaustion. It’s past three am.

  A minute later I park in front of Mom’s house. She’s at the door in a second. “Where have you been?”

  I succeed in walking to the door without limping, and kiss her on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Mom. I ran into trouble. I wanted to call, but the battery of my phone died.”

  Her forehead crinkles in worry. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  “Nothing serious.” I push her inside gently. “Just some… stray dogs that were hurt.”

  Her eyes light up. “You rescued stray dogs?”

  I avoid her gaze. “Well, I tried. It was late, so I had to wait a long time for the animal ambulance and they were understaffed, so I offered to help.”

  “That’s so sweet of you.”

  I lower myself onto the couch and she sits down next to me and rubs my arms.

  “Did you eat yet?”

  I slap my forehead. “I forgot.”

  Mom pats my hand. “Don’t worry. I saved you some lasagna.”

  “You’re the best.”

  She sits at the table with me and we chat like normal people. I can’t help but grin. She’s cooking, cleaning, smiling, dancing. It’s the middle of the night and she’s still full of energy. I still can’t believe it. If I have to fight demons for the rest of my life in exchange for Mom’s health, I’m fine with that.

  My brain shuts down as soon as I sit down on my bed, but rest is the last thing I get. As soon as I fall asleep, I’m tortured by the worst nightmares I’ve ever had. Walking into a classroom naked is a piece of cake compared to this. I would even prefer being chased by a man in a mask waving a knife at me.

  It starts with black clouds moving over Darkwood Manor. I am inside, alone, and somehow I can see the sky. I have a knife in my hand. It’s dripping with blood. I search the house frantically, looking for whatever I killed. But it turns out not to be a what, but a who.

  “Mom,” I yell. She is lying in a pool of blood in the second floor annex.

 
I drop the knife and kneel next to her. “Oh no… Please…”

  I cradle Mom’s head in my lap and stroke her hair. She isn’t breathing. Her eyes are empty.

  For minutes I sit like this, sobbing. Then I hear a noise coming from downstairs.

  “I’m so sorry, Mom,” I whisper, and I lay her back on the floor.

  On my tiptoes I go down the stairs. The knife is back in my hand.

  As soon as I turn towards the kitchen, a string of icicles soars straight at my head. I duck and throw the knife forward without looking. It hits the floor with a thud, missing the demon completely. The icicles bore into the wall behind me.

  I want to turn and run, but the demon pounces on me without hesitation. It rams me right in the chest and pins me to the floor with its sharp claws. Its head changes into that of a pelican and it snaps its beak at my face. I jerk my head so far back that it disappears into the floor. No matter how much I struggle, I’m stuck. The demon clasps its beak around my right leg and pulls. I feel the flesh tearing and I scream. I try to kick it with my other foot, but the pain is agonizing and my strength is quickly draining out of me. A sharp pain flashes through me, and everything goes dark.

  I am back home, sitting on my bed. Mom is vacuuming downstairs. Dad’s notebook rests on my lap. I flip through it for the gazillionth time.

  Then I freeze. I flip back. “Wait… What is this? How is this possible?” I mumble to myself.

  I stare at the page until my eyes water. When I blink it’s still there.

  A spell. One that wasn’t there before. ‘Lifting a curse’, it says in Dad’s handwriting.

  I read every word and memorize it, although I have no idea why. Then I turn the page, but the rest of the book is still empty.

  “Dante! Dinner is ready!” Mom calls from downstairs.

  “I’m coming!”

  I close the notebook and stand up. There’s movement in the corner of my eye. I gaze up at the window and freeze. Two pitch-black eyes in a monstrous head look at me. I stumble back, but not fast enough. The demon smacks its head against the window. The glass shatters and the monster crawls into the room like a spider from hell. It hisses. Bubbling tar moves over its bent body. The dark pools through which it sees, lock on my eyes. I feel like I’m getting sucked into them. The room around me gets darker, as if the eyes swallow everything.

 

‹ Prev