Spring's Calling (A Season of Magic Urban Fantasy Novel)

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Spring's Calling (A Season of Magic Urban Fantasy Novel) Page 20

by Sarah Biglow


  The quiver in his voice as he finished speaking made me doubt I wanted to see what was behind door number one. Fear flashed in my cousin’s eyes as he took a step back and out of view. Was he afraid of what was waiting for me or was it me?

  I wasn’t going to get answers staying rooted to the spot in the hallway. Swallowing down my anxiety, my hand trembled as I opened the door. It swung inward on silent hinges to reveal a small study with a desktop computer set up on a small table set beneath a window looking out on the street. A TV with a DVD player sat against the far wall away from the glare of the front-facing window. The TV was on but covered in static, waiting for a connection to be made.

  “What am I looking for, Desmond?” I muttered.

  The answer came almost immediately as a bright orange Post-It note caught my attention. The note, reading “Play Me,” was affixed to a slim case housing a burnable DVD. Opening the case, I powered up the player and inserted the disc. I pulled the chair over from the desk and sat down, waiting for the TV screen to resolve into whatever content the disc held.

  It took forever for the disc to load and the anticipation started to grate on my nerves. The walls began to press in on me and I became all too aware of the seconds ticking by, bringing me ever closer to the fate that had been foretold for me since before I was born.

  The picture finally loaded and I let out a small gasp. It was the living room of my family’s apartment. The tiny time and date stamp read March 11, 2007 at 8:21 p.m.—only hours before my birthday and the worst day of my life. I was with Desmond and J.T. at that very moment, blissfully ignorant of what was coming. I could hear footsteps on the recording and my mother came into view, settling down on the couch, so close to where I’d find her the next morning. Tears welled uncontrollably in my eyes at the sight of my mother alive and smiling. So full of life.

  She smoothed the creases on her pants and looked at the camera. She wore the pendant that now hung around my neck. Her hand reached up to squeeze it and I mirrored the gesture, transfixed by my mother’s image. After a breath, she spoke. “Hi, Ezri.” She stopped and pressed her free hand to her lips. I could see the moisture tracks of tears that had almost dried on her cheeks as she leaned into the light from the ceiling above her. “Oh, this is going to be harder than I thought.” Another pause as she collected herself. She cleared her throat and started again. “You’ve known for a while now that Eleanor Pruitt’s prophecy is about you. And you’ve taken it in stride, my beautiful girl. I’ve taught you what I could and there are people you’re going to need to rely on as you get older. I know you didn’t ask for any of this, but tomorrow is going to change a lot of things.”

  I scrambled for the remote and slammed my thumb down on the “Pause” button. The recording halted mid-sentence. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. I had a million ideas about what came next and none of them made what was coming any easier or what had happened any less painful. People didn’t record videos like this unless they knew what was coming. But she’d made this for me and Desmond obviously thought it held useful information. I couldn’t let my childhood fears dictate my adult actions any longer. I dried my tears and resumed the video.

  “You are going to be fifteen tomorrow. I know kids these days are more worried about sixteen and learning to drive, but for you this is the important year.” She looked away from the camera and down at her hands, which were now clasped in her lap. “We didn’t want to scare you, but the Council has been tracking the Order and there is a possibility that they’ve found us and they’ve figured out who you are. I know that sounds frightening and I’m sorry, but sometimes the truth is scary. The coming days are going to be very difficult for you, sweet girl, and for that I cannot apologize enough. But you have to understand that I’m doing what I’m doing to protect you and keep you safe just a little longer.” She stood up and took the camera with her—off whatever tripod she’d had it on—and maneuvered it to the table on the other side of our living room. There was the knife I’d found plunged into her chest the next day and the candles I’d found strewn about her body. She picked up the blade and said, “Tomorrow, I’m going to die. I need you to know, Ezri, that I am doing this willingly. A life and magic freely sacrificed can protect the object of the caster for a time. I’m doing this to hide you from the Order so you have time to grow into your power. So that you’ll be ready when the fight comes.”

  I hit “Pause” again and this time the tears had fallen freely down my cheeks, leaving matching tracks to those on my mother’s face. I’d been so wrong about everything. She hadn’t been murdered. She’d given up her life to keep me safe, to give up her magic to ensure I lived long enough to use mine to save everyone else. I’d pushed everyone who could have helped me away. I thought I’d known what tore my family apart. It turned out it was me.

  The lack of police and interference by the Authority made sense now. They’d been in on it from the beginning. Their own paramedics would have been called to see about her body. I tried to dredge the memory of the aftermath from the depths of my subconscious, seeking out any hint that the men who’d come and carried away her body in a body bag had any hint of magic on them. I couldn’t recall.

  “Oh, Mom,” I sobbed, clutching the DVD player remote to my chest.

  She still stood frozen on the screen, blade in hand. I couldn’t stand to look at her like that. I needed to finish watching. I hit “Play” again and she continued her explanation.

  “There are going to be five people here with me. They’re going to channel my magic into this pendant and they are each going to give up a year to protect you. Until you are twenty years old, the Order won’t be able to find you. Even so, I beg you to be careful, Ez. Please.” She set the knife down and turned the camera back on her face. “You’re going to be hurting for a while, baby girl, and that’s perfectly natural. But don’t push people away.”

  Too late for that one.

  She smiled into the camera and then zoomed in on the pendant at her throat. “And remember, no matter what, your family is always with you. You can always rely on that strength. Let it build you up. You are stronger than any of us, but your heritage goes back further than you realize. Be safe, my beautiful girl, and happy birthday.” She refocused on her face and blew a kiss.

  The recording ended and I sat in stunned silence, letting her words sink in. She’d given up her life to protect me from the bad guys before I was ready. And at least five other people had given up some of their lives to keep me safe too. And I’d shut them all out. Now I understood Desmond’s glint of fear and the reason he’d kept his distance. He’d had possession of this recording for at least some length of time. He knew what I hadn’t and he’d assumed it would send me into a fury.

  I wasn’t angry. Maybe I should have been and maybe the anger would come. Right now, all I felt was numb. At some point the numbness faded enough for me to regain use of my legs and I forced myself to stand and leave the room. To his word, Desmond was sitting in the living room directly off from the main hallway. It was a spacious room with two full couches and an armchair. A functioning fireplace lined the wall opposite me. He was fidgeting with his hands, looking far more like the young man I remembered than the psychologist I’d so recently become acquainted with.

  “How long did you have that?” My voice cracked on the last word.

  He gave me a plaintive look. “Ezri—”

  “How long?”

  “Since she recorded it. She gave it to me. I was supposed to show it to you but … things went wrong. God, you weren’t supposed to find her. That was never supposed to be what happened. You were supposed to hear from your dad that she’d died and then I was supposed to show you the recording so you’d understand, but you insisted we go back to your place that day. J.T. and I couldn’t stop you without making you suspicious. I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this with you for so long.”

  The anger that had thus far eluded me was beginning to seep into my consciousness. I wanted to hu
rt him for keeping this from me. Everything would have been different. Everything should have been different.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? You had the information. So, I found her, you should have still shown me what she’d recorded. It would have helped. Do you have any idea how isolated I felt after she died? When my dad did nothing and just moved on like it hadn’t happened? Like it was just normal that she’d had a knife plunged into her ribs in a ritual circle?”

  He didn’t seem fazed by my outburst. If anything, there was relief in his expression. He’d been bracing for this reaction. “You were a kid. You needed time to grieve.”

  “Bullshit. Maybe you didn’t think I could handle it, but my dad should have known better. He should have made you show me. I thought the Authority covered up her death. I blamed them as much as the Order for her death and I wanted nothing to do with them. Everything that’s happened on this case could have been avoided if they’d been there.”

  He wouldn’t look at me.

  “Did you watch the video?” I pressed.

  “No. She said it was for you to see and you only. I knew what they were doing in general terms, but she only wanted me to be the messenger. I really am sorry I didn’t show it to you sooner.”

  “If you’d tried to show it to me when we first reconnected, I’d have probably walked out and I’d be out of a job right now. But why show it to me here?”

  “There were some on the Council who weren’t involved in the ritual back then who didn’t think it was necessary. You had the motivation of the prophecy hanging over your head. They assumed that was enough to make you act in their interest. For what it’s worth, Belladonna and the others involved disagreed. The Council rarely does anything without a unanimous vote.”

  The proverbial genie was out of the bottle now. I wanted to know who besides Belladonna had been involved in the ritual. Who else had been with my mother in her final moments? Had she been scared? I tried desperately to remember the last time I saw her alive, heading over to Desmond’s the night before my birthday. I wanted to believe she’d held me a little tighter and longer than normal. If the Council had been so divided about sharing the truth with me, there was only one place I was going to get the information I sought. But I was so tired. Sleep was what I needed, even though it was still only evening.

  “I have to go,” I said and struggled to my feet.

  “Where?” He sounded tired too. As if the weight had lifted but he’d carried the burden so long it had worn him out. But the question also bore a note of hope. Like maybe he could come with me.

  “Home. I need to sleep and think.” I could just drive, but then I remembered my car had been left behind at headquarters. My anger at Desmond was starting to ebb, but there was no doubt in my mind that if I went back to the mansion, even without speaking to anyone, the feeling would intensify and I didn’t think I could handle that much negative emotion right now.

  “Let me take you.”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ll catch the T. I need to think.” After a moment I said, “You knew Taggart was one of us, didn’t you? I saw you looking at the photo in the library.”

  “He was one of our best guys once upon a time.”

  “What drove him to the Order?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I knew. He just left one day and never turned back.”

  I started for the door and he trailed after me, hands shoved into his pockets. He kept a respectable distance and I could tell by the hunch of his shoulders and the cords of tension in his neck that he was trying to keep himself in check.

  “Thank you for showing me this.”

  “I just hope it wasn’t too late.”

  March 18, 2017

  Twenty-Seven

  The events of the past week had finally caught up with me on the T ride back to Allston and I’d passed out as soon as I’d made it home. Fragments of my mother’s final goodbye video swirled with the recurring dream of Taggart turning me to stone and killing me plagued me until the early hours of the morning. I’d finally given in and taken one of the pills Belladonna had prescribed days ago. It knocked me out into a land of dreamless rest well into the early afternoon hours. I woke to a too bright sunbeam hitting me in the face. I moaned and threw an arm over my face in protest.

  The light persisted and I rolled over, catching sight of the clock on the night stand. My heart jumped into my throat. I groped for my phone, snagging the charging cord on the edge of the night table.

  “Damn it,” I muttered and yanked the phone free.

  To my surprise I only had one missed call from Jacquie. No voicemail. It must not have been urgent. Hitting my partner’s number from my “Favorites” list, I rolled back the other way and propped my head up with my free arm.

  “Finally, you’re answering your phone,” Jacquie said as the call connected.

  “Things got complicated yesterday and I came home and crashed.”

  “The lab techs have verified the video files and logged them back into evidence. I’ve started on the reports. Taggart put up a fight. That’s going to be nasty.”

  “Somehow, I’m not all that surprised. I mean, sure, a rational person would see the evidence we’ve got plus a sworn statement from his co-conspirator and cooperate. But when you’re a high-level member of a murderous dark magic cult, rational isn’t really in the vocabulary.”

  “No, it’s not. Did J.T. get you all stitched up again?”

  “Yeah. As long as I don’t go tackling any more errant FBI agents I should be okay.” And maybe another day would give me time enough to heal up to face the Order’s ritual without risking my internal organs deciding they want to try existing outside of my body.

  The line went quiet for a minute. I could hear Jacquie breathing on the other end. I knew that sound. She was trying to find a way to break bad news to me.

  “What’s wrong?” I prompted.

  “Captain Beech is catching some heat from the top brass for having you back without medical clearance. You’ll be getting the official word at start of shift, but you’re off active duty until you are medically cleared by a doctor of the department’s choosing.”

  I’d been so wrapped up in taking down the bad guy I hadn’t even considered the mundane things like getting a doctor’s note to return to active duty without restriction. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment that I was grateful she couldn’t see. “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

  “If I were you, I’d see this as a blessing. It gives you time to formulate a plan of attack,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, not really listening.

  “Ezri.”

  “Huh?”

  “What happened yesterday after J.T. came and picked you up?”

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to share this with anyone who wasn’t family, but Jacquie had had my back even when I didn’t think she did. That made her more family than a lot of people. “My mother left me a recording. She wasn’t murdered. She sacrificed herself and her magic to protect me.” It also made sense why Tricia hadn’t found any other fingerprints besides my mother’s on the knife.

  “Damn.”

  The anger welled up in me again and I fought back the hot tears that pricked the back of my eyes. “Thanks for letting me know about the medical leave. There’s something I need to do.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  I hung up and lay there staring at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure I was going to get the answers I was looking for today, but I had to try. And there was only one place I could think to go. After dressing in jeans and a loose shirt to allow the stitches to breathe, I headed out. A quick stop at Dunkin for a bagel and coffee and I was off.

  The cemetery was practically vacant when I pulled in. That was fine. I needed privacy for what I was planning. I made the familiar trek to my mother’s gravesite. It was unchanged from earlier in the week. Even so, I knelt down and brushed some stray foliage from the headstone. I took one last look around me to make sure I wasn’t going to
be disturbed.

  “Hey, Mom. I’m not really sure how this works when I’m conscious, but if you’re there, I really need to talk to you.”

  Nothing happened.

  When Eleanor had appeared, she’d just sort of been there without thinking about it. Or had she? I centered myself, putting my intent out into the world. Needing my mother to be there to answer questions. Wanting that last chance to touch her and feel her embrace. Even if it was an afterimage and all just a product of magic.

  The air around me pushed back, pressing against my skin like a film. It covered my nose and mouth, cutting off my supply of oxygen. I struggled against the force keeping me from getting what I wanted. The scent of burning ozone warred with fresh fruit as my magic battled whatever unseen force was fighting me. Finally, my ears popped like I’d just reached altitude on a plane and the air calmed down. I looked to my left to find my mother standing there as I’d seen in my dream. To my right, Eleanor settled on the ground, legs crossed beneath her.

  “I saw the video,” I said, turning my full attention on my mother.

  She remained silent, her eyes sad and the corners of her lips turned down in a frown. Wind whipped at the ends of my hair, but she remained insubstantial to the elements. “You understand what I did.” No hint of questioning in her tone.

  “I get you wanted to protect me. And I understand if you’d told me what you were doing ... when you were doing it, I wouldn’t have let you.”

  “Sometimes being a parent means sacrificing for your child to ensure they have a happy and fulfilling life.”

  “And in our family line, heartbreaking as it may be, that often means death,” Eleanor offered from her spot on the ground.

  “I miss you, Mom,” I said and a breath caught in my throat.

  “I’ve never been far from you, sweetheart. I’ve been right here.” She pressed her fingers to my chest, her palm resting against the pendant, and despite the fact she was a spirit made of magic, I felt the brush of her fingertips against my body. They were warm and comforting.

 

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