Seasons of Sorcery

by Jeffe Kennedy

  She spun her swords around again, putting even more flashy flourish into her smooth moves, along with another wave of bright, crackling electricity. Arrogant show-off.

  Still, as much as I would have liked to charge across the barn, wrest one of those swords away from her, and bury the blade in her heart, I held my position. Celeste was close to Owen, and she could easily slice one of her swords across his throat before I could get to him.

  I looked at Owen, who nodded back. He realized that I was going to have to wait for the right moment to strike, just like he was waiting.

  I focused on Celeste again. When in doubt, start talking to stall for some more time. I hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed in me for using the oldest trick in the book.

  “What do you want?” I asked. “Why did you kidnap Owen, and why did you order your goons to try to kill me? And why are you calling yourself the Black Rook?”

  Celeste frowned a moment, as if she didn’t know what I was talking about, but then her pretty face creased into a smug smile, and she let out a light, pealing laugh. The giants joined in with hearty chuckles. The mocking sounds grated on my nerves even more than the awful feel of her electrical magic did.

  “What’s so funny?” I growled.

  “Oh, you dumb little Spider,” Celeste purred, smiling even wider than before. “Whoever said that I was the Black Rook?”

  Confusion filled me, but then I looked at her costume again. No black feathers adorned her red leather, and she wasn’t wearing any sort of bird symbols. More confusion filled me. But if Celeste wasn’t the Black Rook, then who was? And what did they want from Owen?

  “Oh, Gin,” a low voice called out. “I was actually hoping not to involve you in this, but you just wouldn’t stay out of the way. Then again, I had heard that was one of your more annoying traits.”

  I didn’t recognize the voice, but Owen jerked back in his chair as though he’d just been slapped across the face. His head whipped to the left, and I followed his gaze.

  Footsteps sounded in the back of the barn, and a figure wearing a long, hooded black cloak stepped out from behind another stack of hay bales. This must be the mysterious Black Rook.

  Owen’s jaw clenched, and his eyes glittered with anger, but I still didn’t understand what was going on. Who was this person?

  The Black Rook stopped in an open space near the middle of the barn and pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing a very familiar face.

  Darrell Kline.

  Chapter Eight

  Darrell had drastically changed since the last time I’d seen him during the pirate show.

  His green velvet derring-do Robin Hood costume had vanished, along with his silver glasses and clipboard, and he was now wearing a far more badass ensemble of a black leather shirt, pants, and boots. Soft, glossy black feathers trimmed his black cloak, adding to his dark, ominous look. A large silver pin shaped like a cawing bird with ruby eyes hooked the front of the cloak together just below his throat. Not just any bird, I realized.

  A rook.

  “You’re the Black Rook?” I asked.

  He lifted his chin and gave me a cold, razor-thin smile. His clothes weren’t the only thing that had changed—so had Darrell himself.

  Gone was the nice, polite accountant who volunteered at the faire, and in his place was a much harder, more confident man. His body seemed bigger and stronger, his hazel eyes were brighter, and even his previously shaggy sandy-brown hair had been slicked back into a smoother, more menacing style. I felt like I’d just seen a snake shed its skin, and I got the impression that I was finally seeing the true Darrell Kline, or Black Rook, or whatever he was calling himself.

  Darrell held his hands out wide, preening and showing off his costume. “Well, I imagine my outfit gave it away, but yes, Gin. I am the Black Rook. Just like you’re the assassin the Spider. Only today, you got caught in my web. Ha-ha-ha-ha.”

  I rolled my eyes at his bad pun, but Darrell ignored me and turned to Celeste, who came over, leaned forward, and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his lips. Darrell grinned and slipped an arm around her waist, careful of her two swords as he hugged her close. Celeste let out a little giggle and kissed him again before stepping away.

  So not only did Celeste work for Darrell, but the two of them were involved as well, like an evil, ren-faire Maid Marian and Robin Hood come to life. Terrific. Just terrific. As if this wasn’t weird enough already.

  Darrell reached into his pants pocket. I tensed, thinking that he was grabbing a dagger or some other weapon, but he only pulled out his phone and started swiping through screens.

  “I thought volunteers were supposed to turn off their phones,” I sniped. “In order to add to the magical atmosphere.”

  Darrell shrugged. “Normally, I would do that, but you can’t steal millions of dollars just by brandishing a sword at someone. These days, you need computers for that sort of thing.”

  Owen glanced over at the two giants still typing on their laptops, then focused on Darrell again. Owen’s violet eyes narrowed in understanding.

  “This is about the Harrison account, isn’t it?” he accused. “I knew there was something wrong with the numbers. I knew it.”

  Darrell shrugged again. “Of course there’s something wrong with the numbers. I’ve been cooking the books and siphoning money from that account and a few others for months now. Five thousand here, ten thousand there. Not too much at one time, but it started to add up. I was hoping to get a few more weeks and paydays out of the accounts before slipping quietly off into the night, but then you announced that you were bringing in that outside forensic accountant to go over everything on Monday.”

  He shook his head as though he was deeply disappointed in Owen’s thoroughness. “I knew the game was up, but instead of taking a few more thousand dollars and disappearing, I decided to double down and go for one last big score. Besides, why just steal from a few measly accounts when I can clean out everything you have? All the accounts, all at once.”

  “You bastard,” Owen growled. “You’re nothing but a damn thief.”

  Despite his harsh tone and fierce words, worry still filled his face. Owen was a successful businessman with stakes in mining, lumber, and other operations in Ashland and beyond, and he had access to accounts and assets that were worth millions of dollars. If Darrell stole all that money . . . Well, bankruptcy wouldn’t be the worst part of it. Owen’s reputation would be ruined, and a lot of people who worked with him or for him could also lose everything.

  “Why?” Owen asked the inevitable question. “Why are you doing this? Why are you stealing from me?”

  “It’s been obvious for quite some time that I’d gone as high in your company as I could and that I was never going to get out of middle management.” Darrell stabbed his finger at me, as if that was my fault. “Something that became crystal clear after you and Gin hooked up. You started taking more and more of your business to Finnegan fucking Lane and asking his advice about various accounts and investments instead of mine.”

  So this was all about money. It usually was in Ashland.

  Something that Owen had said in Jo-Jo’s salon this morning popped into my mind. “Wait a second. You were at that charity auction a few weeks ago, weren’t you? Owen said he didn’t even remember bidding on the faire tickets. That’s because he never bid on them. You did. You just needed Owen to supposedly win the tickets in order to get him here.”

  Darrell grinned, as though he was pleased that I’d figured out his scheme. “Exactly! I needed to get Owen out of his comfort zone and into mine. Of course, I expected him to bring Eva today—not you, Finnegan Lane, and your sister the detective. But I knew that my plan would still work. I just had to get you out of the way first.”

  So that was why he’d posted the giants outside the Pork Pit food truck: to keep me busy and stop me from interfering while the rest of his men kidnapped Owen.

  “I wasn’t paying and promoting you enough, so you decided to st
eal from me?” Owen growled again.

  Instead of answering Owen’s accusation, Darrell shifted on his feet and adjusted the silver rook pin at his throat. I focused on the bird’s ruby eyes and reached out with my Stone magic. The rubies were whispering about how pretty and expensive they were, just like the jewels embedded in the hilts of Celeste’s swords still were. Their outfits had both cost a pretty penny too, as had all the fancy gaming equipment and the diorama.

  “You’re broke,” I said. “That’s why you’re really doing this.”

  Owen frowned. “What do you mean?”

  I held my hands out wide. “Look at this place. All the monitors and gaming equipment, all the paint and art supplies for the diorama. None of that stuff is cheap. Neither are their costumes and weapons.”

  I snapped my fingers, remembering something else. “And Darrell has even more of this stuff at home. He showed me pictures of his collectibles during the holiday party at the Pork Pit.”

  Darrell didn’t respond, but a pink flush crept up his neck, his lips pinched together into a tight, thin line, and he crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive motion. Guilty as charged.

  “Gin’s right. You’re doing this because you’re a greedy bastard, not because I hurt your feelings.” Owen shook his head. “And here I thought you actually believed in all this medieval, ren-faire stuff about duty and honor and loyalty.”

  “Oh, I do believe in it, but my favorite characters to play have always been the rogues, the thieves, the pirates.” Darrell tipped his head to me. “And especially the assassins who take what they want and kill whomever they like.”

  “Gin has more honor and loyalty in her pinkie than you will ever have,” Owen snarled.

  Darrell gave him an amused look. “Aw, how noble of you to defend your lady’s honor. I hope Gin appreciates the gesture, especially since it’s the last thing you’ll ever do for her.”

  He slid his phone back into his pocket, then walked over to the two giants still sitting at the computers. “Are we ready to transfer the money?”

  One of the giants flashed him a thumbs-up and handed him a tablet. Darrell clutched the device in the crook of his elbow, then strolled back over to Owen.

  “And now, boss, it’s time to give me access to your accounts—all of them.” Darrell loomed over him. “I need your master login and password, as well as your personal authentication keywords.”

  “Fuck off,” Owen snarled. “I’m not giving you a thing—not one damn thing.”

  “I thought you might say that.”

  Darrell stepped back and jerked his head at Celeste, who twirled her swords around in her hands again. I knew what she was going to do, and I took a step forward to try to stop her, but the two giants raised their fists and cracked their knuckles in warning. They were standing between me and Owen, as were Darrell and Celeste, and any one of them could easily kill Owen before I could get to him. So as much as I hated it, I stopped, gritted my teeth, and held up my hands, surrendering to the bastards.

  For now.

  Celeste made sure that I wasn’t going to interfere, then whipped around and slammed the hilt of her first sword straight into Owen’s face.

  Crunch.

  The sound of his nose breaking seemed as loud as a clap of thunder in the barn. Owen let out a low groan of pain, and blood gushed down his face.

  Celeste hummed with happiness. And then she hit him again. And then again and then again.

  She slammed the hilts of her swords into Owen’s face, chest, and arms over and over, like he was a dummy she was practicing her moves on. Each pain-filled grunt that escaped his lips was like a punch to my own heart. Celeste also put a bit of her electrical magic into the blows, making Owen’s entire body twitch and jerk and his skin blister and burn.

  The acrid stench of his singed flesh was one of the worst things I had ever smelled in my entire life.

  Through it all, Owen stared at me, his violet gaze steady on mine. The absolute love and trust shining in his eyes made my own heart squeeze tight in response. Despite our dire situation, he still believed that I would get us out of this. That I would save us. His unwavering trust filled me with a warm rush of love, along with an iron determination not to let him down.

  But Celeste could still slit Owen’s throat before I could reach him, so I had to stand there and watch while the bitch tortured him.

  After a few minutes, Celeste finally lowered her weapons and stepped back. Owen coughed and coughed, trying to get his breath back after all the brutal blows, and his arms and legs kept twitching from the lingering stings of her electricity. After the better part of a minute, he finally stopped coughing, although the faint hitch and wheeze in his breath indicated that he probably had at least one cracked or broken rib, if not more.

  Celeste smirked at me. My hands clenched into tight fists. She was going to die for hurting him—she just didn’t realize it yet.

  Darrell gestured at his partner in crime. “I like to play the part of a thief, but Celeste here, well, she’s more of a barbarian at heart. I love that about her.”

  He gave an elaborate hand flourish and bowed low to her, as though he really was a gallant knight and she was some fair maiden, instead of them both being rotten and treacherous to the core. Darrell straightened back up, and Celeste blew him an air kiss, which he caught and dramatically pressed to his heart. Ugh. Kill me now, just like Finn had said.

  Owen looked up at the two of them. Then he leaned forward and spat out a mouthful of blood right onto Darrell’s shiny black boots. I grinned. And that was one of the reasons I loved him.

  “How’s that for barbaric?” Owen rasped.

  Darrell’s nose crinkled with disgust. Celeste stepped forward and hit Owen again, making him cough up more blood. Worry twisted my chest, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t risk attacking while Celeste and her swords were still that close to Owen.

  Darrell eyed his former boss a moment longer, then smiled, as if some new, horrible thought had occurred to him.

  “Well, if you won’t give up the information to save yourself, then maybe you’ll give it up to save your own precious assassin queen.” Darrell jerked his head at Celeste, who grinned and stalked over to me.

  She gestured at the two giants, who stepped forward and latched onto my arms. I didn’t resist, even though I knew how much this was going to hurt.

  Celeste moved so that she was standing right in front of me, still clutching her two swords. Her lips puckered as she studied me, clearly thinking about where and how badly to hurt me. She tilted her head to the side, then snapped her hand forward and slammed her sword hilt into my face, just like she’d done to Owen.

  Pain erupted in my left cheek and quickly radiated out through my skull like a string of grenades exploding one after another. I staggered back, and I would have fallen on my ass if the giants hadn’t been holding on to me. Even then, I listed around like a ship on a stormy sea, and more than a few white stars winked on and off in my field of vision.

  “Wait!” Owen yelled. “Stop!”

  But Celeste didn’t stop. Instead, she lashed out with one of her blades, opening up a gash along my left bicep. The deep cut was bad enough, but she also put some of her electricity into the blow, and the stinging jolts blasted over me like I’d just touched a live wire.

  Sweat popped out on my forehead, my teeth rattled together, and I accidentally bit my own tongue, adding to my misery. My body involuntarily jerked and flailed, but the giants held me fast until the electricity faded away. Somehow I swallowed down a scream of pain, even though I felt like my left arm was on fire.

  Celeste smirked and drew her sword back for another strike, but Darrell held out his hand, stopping her.

  “I think that’s enough for now. Let’s see if hurting Gin has made Owen more cooperative.” He turned to the other man. “Well, Owen? What do you say? Do you feel like giving up those passwords now?”

  Owen glared at his former accountant, his violet eyes practically
glowing with fury. “I’m going to kill you for hurting Gin,” he growled.

  Darrell laughed. “Oh, I doubt that. As soon as I have your money, Celeste and I are leaving Ashland for good. In a few hours, we’ll be on a Caribbean island, shopping for yachts and whatever else strikes our fancy, and drinking and spending all our cares away. Isn’t that right, my queen?”

  Celeste beamed at him. “Absolutely.”

  Shopping for yachts? Well, someone was taking their pirate fantasy a little too far, but I hoped they enjoyed it—because it was going to be the last thing they ever enjoyed.

  Darrell went back over to Owen and bent down, waggling his tablet in Owen’s face. “The passwords. Or Celeste goes back to practicing her sword and magic skills on Gin.”

  Owen looked at me, then at my two giant guards, then at Celeste, who was still standing in front of me with her swords clutched in her hands. Finally, he focused on me again.

  Worry, fear, and concern tightened his face, but they weren’t nearly as strong as the other two emotions burning in his violet gaze: his love for me and his determination that we were both getting out of this alive.

  I nodded, telling him that I was ready to move. “It’s all right, Owen. Just give him the passwords.”

  “Yes, Owen,” Darrell sneered. “Give me the passwords. Now. Or your precious Gin dies.”

  Celeste stepped closer to me and lifted one of her swords, resting the sharp blade up against my throat. She smirked, then pressed the edge into my neck, nicking my skin and drawing a bit of blood. She was going to slit my throat the second Darrell had what he needed from Owen. Well, let her try. She was the one who wouldn’t be getting out of here alive.

  Darrell glanced over at the two giants in front of the computers. This time, they both flashed him a thumbs-up, telling him they were ready to rock ’n’ roll and steal everything from Owen. He nodded, then turned back to Owen.

  “Give me your master password,” Darrell demanded.