by T. G. Ayer
He exhaled harshly. “You know I don’t like making my problems other peoples’ problems.”
I rolled my eyes. The guy was too damned stubborn. “Logan isn’t other people. Think of him as family . . . if it will make you feel better.”
Saleem proceeded to shovel food into his mouth—more avoidance behavior—but I knew he was thinking it over. Probably looking for holes in my theory.
I hoped he wouldn’t find any.
At last, after a silence so tense I could have cut through it with a knife, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell him.”
“Please do. Or I will.”
He narrowed his gaze at me. “Why are you beginning to sound like my mother?” he asked, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
My stomach twinged, but I stuck my tongue out at him and grinned, hiding my guilt as best as I could. Saleem was oblivious, but I knew I’d pay for all these lies one day. I just hoped—coward that I was—that it wouldn’t be soon.
“So, can you do me a favor?” I asked, desperately needing to fill the silence, because suddenly the only thing I could hear was our breath and the sound of food being chewed and swallowed.
Weird.
He nodded almost absently, and I took a deep breath. “I need to obtain DNA samples from all possible suspects in my poltergeist investigation.”
He offered a nod and a quirk of an inquisitive eyebrow, his gaze on his plate.
“So . . . I was thinking Fulbright was a legitimate suspect.”
Saleem looked up. “I’d put him on the list for sure.”
I nodded. “So . . . since I need his DNA—a strand of hair will do—I was hoping you’d be kind enough to pick up a sample for me.”
He grinned. “You make it sound like Fulbright takeout.”
“Shudder,” I said as I shuddered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it for you.” Saleem nodded, more serious now. “Have you made a list of suspects?”
I didn’t answer, and as he continued to eat I got the feeling he understood that betraying my closest friends wasn’t something that I wanted to discuss.
Fulbright was okay since he was as far from a friend as possible.
I sucked in a breath, and in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction, I told him about the Elite.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I knew they’d contact you.”
“How so?”
“They’re headhunting. Kai, you, Logan. Me. I’m not sure who else, but I can guess if you’re a talented mage you’re gonna get the call.”
I sighed and finished my last bite. “I just hope this isn’t going to be another Omega.”
Saleem shook his head, getting to his feet. He reached for my plate and stacked it on top of his. “I don’t believe so. The Elite is being spearheaded by the Ancients and the Supreme High Council. That’s a lot of legitimate power right there. Omega on the other hand started out as a rebellion against Sentinel.”
I nodded and Saleem got to his feet, taking the dishes to the sink. Sentinel had been the only organization that stood for policing the paranormals worldwide. Initiated by the Supreme High Council more than four hundred years ago, they’d once been the only law enforcement authority for the paranormal world.
Then a small faction of people broke away and began Omega. Until now, any association with Omega wasn’t seen in a negative light since the High Council had long since accepted the status quo. Omega, over the decades, had evolved into a different, more legitimate agency.
Saleem sighed, the sound muffled as he reached beneath the sink cupboard for washing liquid. “The walls Omega have built over the years are fast crumbling. Agents are seeking asylum with Sentinel left, right, and center.”
“Not that it’s their fault what Omega was doing.” I got up and cleared the table, wiped it down, and began to dry the dishes as he washed and rinsed.
How very domestic.
Saleem shrugged again.
“So do you have a team ready?”
He nodded.
“Am I on it?” Until now, we hadn’t really discussed the details of his plan. I’d been reluctant to ask too many questions considering the Djinn queen had asked that I stay out of the mission.
“Definitely not.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice rising an octave.
“Do you even need to ask?”
I pouted, annoyed that my stupid poltergeist was beginning to spoil more than just my jumping. But Saleem had a point. I couldn’t go traipsing around Mithras and then come back to EarthWorld missions and expect to survive the kind of nosebleeds that would incur.
Not until this spirit was exorcised.
Saleem’s expression softened. “Besides, it’s only recon now. For all we know, I won’t be able to do a thing about Riz.”
Saleem reached for a tea towel to wipe his hands dry. He’d scrubbed the sink down and it gleamed, which it ought to considering he’d done such a damned good job.
I had to admit I was impressed with his kitchen skills.
I cleared my throat, “So about that DNA-takeout run . . .” Saleem wasn’t exactly Fulbright’s favorite person. Not since having been forced to work with him.
“Mmh?” Saleem asked, dropping the towel on the counter behind him.
“Just don’t get caught, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He tapped his temple with two fingers, winked and then disappeared in a flurry of bronze and black swirling dust.
Chapter 15
The next morning, I headed back downstairs. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted out into the hall and the sounds of Steph in the kitchen with her dub-step music drew a smile to my lips. At least some things had remained the same.
I jogged down the stairs, entranced by the prospect of food, and stepped on the nail jutting out of the carpet two steps down.
Pain stabbed through the heel of my foot, and I let out a scream as I lost my balance and tumbled down the remaining dozen stairs.
I rolled myself into a ball keeping all limbs safely tucked close. It didn’t save me from almost breaking my neck, or knocking my elbows and knees as I landed on the hall floor.
Nor did it stop me from leaving a glaring trail of blood in my wake.
I glanced at my bare foot, covered in blood and throbbing with pain. A gory hole on the top of my foot glared back at me. The bottom of my foot ached with equal intensity, confirming what I could see.
Through and through.
Steph raced into the hall, yelling loudly, “What the hell, Mel. Are you okay?” She sank down beside me, reaching out to check my forehead.
I brushed her hand off. “I don’t have a fever, Steph.” I unraveled myself and sat up, testing the back of my head. “A hole in my foot, yes. Fever, no.” My fingers grazed a small bump that promised to grow much larger very soon.
I knew I was snapping but she didn’t seem to notice as she checked me for damages and positioned herself at my feet.
“Holy shitballs, Mel. There’s a hole in your foot.”
Even though I wanted to roll my eyes, I couldn’t. “Wow. Your powers of perception are incomparable.”
She rolled her own eyes and shot to her feet, racing to the kitchen so fast I wondered if she was a mage and hadn’t told us. “Don’t move,” she yelled as she rummaged in the drawer.
Another eye-roll moment, but I restrained myself.
I rolled onto my knees, got up onto my good foot, and hopped to the living room. The sofa would feel much better than the hardwood floor, especially with all the places I currently hurt.
“Don’t worry. I’m not moving,” I lied, “I don’t plan on breaking anything else.” As I sat, I shifted my head and felt a bolt of pain slam its way into my head. Taking a careful breath, I resolved to remain still—at least for a while.
“I didn’t mean you,” she yelled, “we don’t need any more damage to the carpets. Bloodstains don’t come off easily.”
I hid a smile as I shook my head, then winced. St
eph sped to the stairs, growled when she saw I wasn’t there, then raced into the living room moving so fast she had to skid to a stop to avoid tumbling onto me. Her arms were loaded with bandages, bottles and a hot towel.
“I’ll fix you right up.” She spoke confidently, but her voice wavered enough that I knew she was being brave.
“Before you do, be a darling and call for Chloe.” The tension within my body roiled and my teeth began to chatter.
Steph nodded, then placed the back of her fingers on my forehead. “You’re cold and a little moist. Probably shock. One order of Dr Chloe coming up.”
Steph scrambled around for my phone, which I’d thrown clear across the hall as I’d fallen. She dialed quickly and got Chloe who agreed to come over fast.
Then she set to work, fixing my foot up with disinfectant and antibacterial cream and bandages. Everything I knew a mage doctor would resolve soon enough, but I let her do it only because she was Steph, and because I’d noticed how her hands had shivered as she’d reached for the bandages, and how her voice rose that much higher as she scolded every time I’d moved.
Steph was in as much shock as I was.
Ten minutes later, while Steph had left to make me a cup of hot tea, the doorbell went. With the kettle going, she didn’t hear the doorbell so I hopped off the sofa and limped to the door. Through the glass I saw Chloe and a boy who looked about sixteen.
As I opened the door, the boy said, “Call me when you need me, Doctor Chloe.” Then he teleported off the front porch.
I raised my eyebrows. “Very talented for his age.”
Chloe chuckled as she entered the room. “That’s nothing. You should have seen Logan at twelve. Now he was a force to be reckoned with.”
I nodded and limped back into the living room, with Chloe walking beside me, her expression concerned. I sat slowly. “Can you explain what just happened?” There was the mother-hen Chloe that I knew and loved.
I shrugged. “Nothing fancy. I just fell down the stairs,” I looked away, feeling stupid.
“And you didn’t think to teleport out of there and save yourself the fall.”
“There wasn’t any time. I only fell from halfway down.”
Chloe glared at me. “How did you fall?”
“She stepped on a nail.”
Chloe looked confused until Steph—who’d walked in with a small tray bearing a teapot, a mug, sugar, and milk—handed her a plastic bag containing a bloody nail. “That’s the culprit, although I’m not entirely sure how it came loose enough to embed itself so deep into her foot.”
“How deep?” Chloe took the plastic bag and stared so hard at the nail that she almost looked cross-eyed.
“Right through and out the top of her instep.”
I felt dizzy just thinking about it.
Chloe was pale as she turned to look at me.
“Chloe. I need you, so please don’t pass out on me.”
“I’m not going to pass out. I’m not some fragile female, you silly girl.” She set the packet on the coffee table and sat beside me, taking my hand in hers as Steph mixed too much sugar into my tea.
Slowly, Chloe’s magic worked as she drew the tension and the pain out of my body. Chloe wasn’t a true med-mage, only having the power to absorb excess emotions.
On the same wavelength as me, Chloe was already reaching for her phone and dialing someone, leaving a brisk message.
When she cut the call, she said, “You need a med-mage to take the pain away and heal your foot. I’d like to avoid any infection and you need the rapid healing.”
Although my instinct was to decline politely and then suffer it out on my own, the other two women in the room were staring at me, their eyes so filled with emotion I knew I’d have a tough time explaining myself away.
I nodded and settled back, letting her do her work. While she eased my tension, I wondered what I was going to do now. I still had to find the person who cursed me. Studying Chloe now, I cursed the fact that she was also on my list. But Darius had said it could be anyone.
I just couldn’t trust anyone, no matter who they were.
Hot tears welled up in my eyes as I reached behind Chloe with my free hand and picked two strands of gray hair from the shoulder of her coat. She’d been so concerned with me, she hadn’t remembered to remove it.
I held them at the tips between two fingernails and slipped them into my pocket before leaning against the backrest.
I hadn’t remembered to get a sample from Drake and made a note to check his bathroom. Just the thought of knowing that I had to collect evidence from my friends made me feel sick, but it was for everyone’s safety that I had to do it. It wasn’t as if I could call them all to one place and ask them for samples. It was way more complicated than that.
Besides, it was my burden to bear. If the guilty person was outed in full view of everyone else, it meant that they’d all be in danger from the spellcaster.
I had to work smart.
Find the spellcaster, find the witchdoctor.
Chapter 16
Chloe did her calming thing, after which a rather stern, too-quiet Dr Niall arrived to treat my injuries. Blond and lanky, he could have been Steph’s twin, but he barely looked left or right after he’d arrived.
He’d tended to my injury, knitting the wound from inside and then sealing the entrance and exit wounds both with magic and some kind of clear gel bandage.
He left me with a bottle of pills for the pain.
Some bedside manner.
Chloe departed with the friendly doctor and Steph helped me up to bed where, despite my denial of fatigue, I fell asleep within minutes.
I woke an hour later, enjoying a brief moment of peace. And then, when I felt a dribble of hot moistness on my cheek I remembered the craptastic life I was living.
Another freaking nosebleed.
Resolutely, I grabbed the Kleenex from my nightstand and cleaned my nose up. Shimmying out of bed, I tested my foot and found I could walk well enough, except for a few twinges when I put my full weight on it.
I limped out of the room and headed down the hall to Drake’s room. He’d left without even a note but I was used to that. We’d never babysat each other, so I hadn’t expected a touching farewell.
I crossed his silent room and entered the darkened bathroom. Drake was almost OCD and his bathroom was meticulously clean. I felt awful rummaging inside his trash can but I had to. It was in order to rule him out.
Despite the necessity, my words rang hollow.
Deep within the trash I found discarded floss—because apparently the gargoyle was obsessive about his teeth—as well as fingernail clippings. I bagged them both, cursed my reflection as I got to my feet, and then returned to my room and hid the bags.
After changing, I went in search of Steph and found her bedroom empty. She was probably up in the comms center which gave me ample time to grab a few strands of her hair off her hairbrush and deposit them in my secret hiding place.
That’s five down.
And a bunch more to go.
The more I did this, the worse I felt about myself.
Thankfully, I hadn’t needed to deliberately obtain a sample from Saleem. All that hot and heavy petting had left behind sufficient hair samples to test.
What would Saleem think?
Not only was I lying to him about his mother, but I was now also going behind his back and stealing DNA samples from him.
He knew about my search for DNA, but I hadn’t asked him for a donation of his own. Instead I was skulking around, stealing DNA samples from the people I cared about.
I had a pretty good idea this was strike two.
The kitchen was empty except for a pot of coffee with a sticky-note on it saying ‘drink me’, and a bowl of cookies marked ‘eat me’.
Smiling, I ate then headed outside. My intention was to head out to see Natasha. The drive out to her place was always calming, and despite my impatience to get there, it managed to make me feel so muc
h better.
I’d woken with another nosebleed and decided no more jumps until I was sure it was necessary.
I grabbed the keys to Steph’s car and headed out to see Natasha. I’d parked the truck off only because Drake—the only one who knew how to coax the hunk of junk to life—was no longer around.
Steph’s electric two-person car was the type of vehicle you encountered where the first question out of your mouth would be ‘where’s the rest of it?’.
Drake called it Steph’s Mini-Skirt.
I slid into the car, feeling the metal, glass and leather close in on me. The vehicle was too small, but I had little choice. As much as I’d love to be stubborn about it, I could not deny that my health was questionable.
I could be careless if it was just me. But endangering my health meant, unfortunately, endangering the lives of those around me.
I’d texted Natasha but received no answer so I figured I’d drive over anyway. If she wasn’t home, I’d go out to her pond—her very magical and calming pond—and enjoy a little peace and quiet.
Things had been far too crazy lately.
What with Erik and his concerned mother, Samuel and the strange demon realm he was hiding in, and the hooded figure so powerful he could almost sense me even in projection mode. And Saleem and Drake both dealing with family drama.
And the Dark One—whoever she was—and now the hunt for my own personal stalker-killer.
Could it even get any worse than this?
As I drove out of the city limits, I passed miles of dried and barren cornfields, until I reached the edge of the wasteland. Going to Natasha’s was almost a magical journey, like crossing over from a land of devastation and drought to one of bounty and plenty.
Past Natasha’s protective ward nature thrived, encapsulated by her magic, protected from drought and plague and death. Much of what her land produced went to supplement the education and needs of the kids Storm looked after. Natasha saw it as her way of contributing, of giving something back, of supporting Storm in his endeavor to give the lost and the lonely a second chance.
I sighed.
Storm was another name on my list. And he was one I did not relish the thought of meeting with subterfuge on my mind. I knew he was immortal, but you never could tell whether they could see through humanity’s failings and identify the lies beneath the faces we showed to the world.