“She is worth twenty million dollars to us,” Viktor said.
Esther looked flustered. “Twenty million?”
“One hates to put a price on family,” Viktor said. “But if one must, it should be high.”
“Surely you don’t have twenty million dollars just to throw around?”
“It seems I do.”
“Get out. I would never sell Mina.”
Viktor slipped right back out of the chair and brushed past me, pausing at the last moment to meet my eyes. For a second I felt like he was reaching out to touch me, and I shied back an inch before realizing that his hands were perfectly still at his sides. He just had a way of making you feel…acknowledged. Much more than I wanted to be acknowledged. His eyes looked me over in the dim light and a tiny furrow appeared between his brows.
Then, a faint smirk. “Mina,” he said. “They say they want you to be free, and they will never sell you, so if you ever need another place to go and you want to meet your clan, perhaps you could just ask them to let you go.”
Even as he said this, I felt like he had just realized I wasn’t Mina.
“This is her home,” Esther said. “Good night, sir.”
Somehow every twist of this was making me more nervous.
Chapter Fourteen
Waylon
“Mother. Fucking. Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” Ansel said over the phone. “All I could do was bail. They almost shot me. I have no idea how Esther Merryweather knew your name.”
“I don’t know. It’s definitely something to find out. But…that means Frankie is just trapped there?”
“They put a collar on her,” Ansel said, sounding more miserable by the second. “Damnit. I just had the choice between both of us getting captured and you not even knowing what happened, or…”
“I get it. Just—fuck!” I screamed.
“You’re pretty upset about this. I thought you hated her.”
“She fucked up my life and she pisses me off, but she’s the kind of rival I would rather torment personally, and besides that, I know how useful she is. I am not about to be outwitted by a business mom.”
“That reasoning checks out,” Ansel said.
“Well, stay out of the hotel room for a bit. I need concentration. I’ll try to see if I can find her. Talk to her.”
“That seems a little risky. Maybe I should be there.”
“I won’t be able to concentrate with you around. This spell is hard as it is. So just—give me two hours.”
“All right. I’ll have a drink in that bar on the corner,” Ansel said. “Or maybe…seven drinks.”
We hung up and I turned to my suitcase of spells I’d brought with me, trying to anticipate every situation. Man, I hoped I had the right stuff. If I wanted to get in contact with her…what worked best? Dream magic? We had to be sleeping at the same time, and I’d bet she wouldn’t be getting a good night’s sleep. Astral projection would allow me to find out how she was doing, if I could manage it. I took a quick breath. Tricky stuff.
“Mugwort…I know I brought that…sandalwood would be good too. Did I bring sandalwood?” I murmured to myself. I had tried to bring spell ingredients to cast any magic I’d need. I had everything organized alphabetically and made Braille labels, although I didn’t know Braille very well myself. It was still much better to use any sort of code to label spell ingredients so that if some enemy got ahold of them, they couldn’t use them easily. Still, the ingredients were just there to assist. A sorcerer was only as good as his own focus.
This was a really hard sort of spell. Way too specific. Magic worked best when you didn’t try to force it. I had never actually managed to use astral projection to spy before, so I had no idea if it would work.
Never hurts to try, Leif would have said. Brother, magic is simple, once you’re grounded in your own body.
Like it was that simple. Being ‘grounded’ in your own body was not as easy as it sounded, and in the end, it turned out Leif was battling his own demons. He gave me a lot of words of wisdom when I needed them, and then…he killed himself. I was still struggling with forgiving my unlikely mentor for that.
But all the work I’d put into reaching that state was the only reason I was here. Useful. Respected. Alive. Clean.
It was better than doing nothing, which felt like my only other option. I didn’t see how Ansel and I could break into the heavily guarded Merryweather mansion now that they were onto us.
I sprinkled the mugwort and sandalwood onto the sheets and for good measure I took out a jasper stone to put on my forehead. I lay down, slowing my breath, trying to calm down long enough to reach the right state, the space between meditation and lucid dreams where I could step out of my body and find Frankie.
They could sell her…to hunters? Breeders?
I had to stop thinking and worrying. I wouldn’t get there this way.
Maybe I should think more generally. Not fight the flow of magic.
Just show me how I can help Frankie.
I visualized myself slipping out of my body and standing at the foot of the hotel room bed. I started to relax into it. I saw a dim vision of my body laying there on a bed, looking all relaxed, dressed in black, hands folded on my chest like an attractive corpse. The rest of the room was a little hazier, lit by the moon. In divination and dream magic, I could see, but the visions seemed to be getting farther away from me, like everything was coming out of my imagination and I wasn’t sure if it was my real surroundings or not. I had a feeling I would lose this too if I wasn’t healed.
I turned toward the void of astral travel, and the answer to my question. Hopefully.
At least I’m here. Traveling or dreaming? Hard to tell which.
Now I was entering a very small room with a bed against one wall and a desk by the window. “Frankie?” I whispered. “Are they keeping you here?” The bed was empty, a plaid blanket rumpled. The wall had some band posters hanging up, and a pile of textbooks sat on the desk by a laptop. And then I noticed the large men’s shoes. Well, kind of unisex shoes actually, Doc Marten knockoff types, but a large size for sure. And the black coat hanging on the back of the door was a man’s size also.
My heart rate ticked upward. I was definitely in a real place, and I was seeing all the details. The spell was doing exactly what you would want a spell to do. I had transcended my own expectations and physical limitations. I was in this other place and my eyes were getting details I knew didn’t come out of my head. It was a heady feeling. I hadn’t seen anything this vivid in a long time and a part of me just wanted to savor it before it was gone.
And what is this place? Alistair Merryweather’s room? Out the window I saw a boulevard with trees. I just don’t remember Manhattan having any place that looks like that…but…
The door opened and some unknown guy walked in. He threw his keys on the table and put down a guitar case. He paused and sniffed the air. At first it was more of an idle sniff. Then he stopped and got this wait a minute look.
He went on his guard a little. He threw open the closet.
A wolf. I could guess that because he used his nose as much as his eyes, and it seemed he could smell me, even though he couldn’t see me. Then again, he couldn’t seem to figure out where the smell was coming from. So maybe he actually sensed me on a deeper level and was just trying like crazy to get one of his senses to pick it up. I knew that feeling.
Wolf. Guitar. Frankie.
Now I put it together. Maybe this was Roy’s kid. The one he sent off to college abroad. Must be fucking nice to have a dad that loves you that much.
“Ian!” I barked.
He jumped and banged his knee on the footboard of the bed. “Ow—crap!” He exhaled sharply. “Who’s there?” His eyes darted around.
I guess I was like a ghost or something. That was pretty cool.
As soon as I started thinking that, I felt my hold on the magic start to get away from me and I knew I had to focus on what I was actually d
oing and not enjoy messing with him. “Ian, it’s Waylon Silver. I’m trying to help Frankie.”
Ian stared as I felt myself sort of…become seen. I solidified into his space. It was like he finished the spell for me. When he heard me mention Frankie, he somehow invited me in so I could be seen.
This was pretty wild, but I didn’t know what to make of having a connection with him. He can’t help Frankie. He’s got his own life here and it’s clearly much better than ours.
“Frankie,” Ian said, his voice getting a hint of a growl, of some impatience. “What happened to her?”
“She was kidnapped by Esther Merryweather.”
“Is this your fault, Waylon?”
“It’s not my fault, but I do need to get her back.”
“You have no business with Frankie,” Ian said. “Kidnapped. Esther Merryweather. So is she putting Frankie into a zoo, then? I knew this would happen, sooner or later. My fucking old man, he shouldn’t have been sending her out doing all this dangerous stuff.” Ian picked up a phone. “That’s it. I’m going home.” He looked at me. “How are you in my room? Are you a ghost or something?”
“Astral travel.”
“Astral travel? I thought you had to be some sort of guru in the mountains to do magic like that. Or is it some drug trip?”
“I’ve been clean for ten years.” Right, I had that reputation back home with everyone. The downside to leaving home and transforming into a different person. “This is just plain and simple magic. I asked to find a path to help Frankie escape and it led me to you. Although having said that, I really think you ought to stay here. Aren’t you in college in Europe? We don’t have time to wait for you to come home anyway. And you should just enjoy the fact that you got out.”
“My parents wanted me to go to college,” Ian said. “But I can’t stop thinking about Frankie. Leaving her alone there to put herself in danger like that. It makes me feel survivor’s guilt or something. Impostor syndrome? All of it. I don’t even want to be a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” That was hard to imagine. But I probably shouldn’t judge. He was ten years older too. I just didn’t see any evidence that he’d changed from the nice boy musician I’d met years ago.
”I don’t belong here,” Ian said. “I’m sure that’s why you’re here. I’ll find her. You should just stay out of it.” He was skimming flights home.
“Get a grip already,” I said. “You can’t save Frankie any more than I can.”
“But you have no business being around Frankie in the first place,” Ian said. “Frankie is family to me.”
He likes her, I thought, squinting at him through the haze of this semi-reality I was in. He looked clean cut, non-threatening and nondescript in his college student fashion, maybe halfway handsome but not nearly as handsome as me. And here he was with his big old stack of textbooks and everything. This guy, with Frankie? Pffh. It would never work.
“You’re going to get your ass killed or kidnapped and then all the money and hopes your family has pinned on you will be up in smoke,” I said.
“Then why are you appearing in my bedroom?” Ian said.
“I don’t fucking know!”
“Maybe you should get out of the way of your own magic,” Ian said. “There must be a reason you’re here. I’m going home. If you have any sense of loyalty between men, don’t tell my parents. And if you don’t…well, I guess I’ll see you when I get there and we can have it out.”
Have it out? With you? I didn’t even glorify that with a response. It was clear that me telling him to stay put wasn’t working. “Fine,” I said with a shrug. “Go ahead and get caught by hunters. Or Esther Merryweather herself. I hear Wolfwood is the most popular part of the park and I’m sure the blandly handsome street musician would be a welcome addition.”
“So you’re still an asshole,” Ian said.
“I never said I wasn’t an asshole. I just said I was an asshole with my…wits about me…” I suddenly felt myself spiraling back into a dizzying darkness and suddenly I gasped awake in the hotel room, digging my fingers into the polyester bedspread.
That was too fast, I thought, trying to sit up. The dizziness was too much for a minute or two, my head swirling around until I waited it out.
“I guess it serves you right for picking a petty fight while astral projecting,” Ansel said, after I found him at the bar on the corner. I was trying to tell the story without looking too undignified scarfing down a plate of breakfast-for-dinner at the Greek diner nearby. The magic left me starving. I ordered seven eggs and as many strips of bacon, plus a short stack of pancakes.
“It’s just…the entire spell was wasted on some college kid with a guitar.”
“You have a guitar,” Ansel said.
“I own a guitar. That’s not the same as being with a guitar. I’m trying to paint a picture for you here and you’re focusing on that? He’s not going to be any help. I was trying to get in touch with Frankie and instead I end up in a dorm room in Europe. You should have seen this place. A beautiful view with trees, the scholar’s life… If he does come back here, he’s an idiot.”
“You can see when you astral project?”
“Well, yeah. Like a dream. It is a little weird, but it’s there. Souls don’t get bogged down with whatever the body is dealing with, obviously. A guy in a wheelchair doesn’t have to astrally project a wheelchair.”
“Good point. That’s pretty awesome. So you could see Frankie with a spell.”
“I don’t need to see Frankie. I just need to know if she’s okay and if she has an escape route.”
“You asked if she was cute earlier.”
“You said, ‘She’s cute’, and I said, ‘Spare me’.”
“Oh. Well, your memory is a lot better than mine, so I suppose I won’t argue…but I think you said she was cute.”
“I did not, and you’re just goading me.”
Ansel stirred his iced tea. “I’m not sure how you astrally project when you have no soul.”
“I’m not sure how you get anything done. All I care about right now is getting the shifter queens together and getting some sort of revenge on these humans. Frankie is a coward. My only purpose here is to convince her to get on board. So no, her cuteness is not relevant.”
“I’m just messing with you,” Ansel said. “I know. Serious business and all. But what do we do now? Are you going to try the spell again?”
“Not yet. Let me make a call or two and see if I can’t figure out another way in.”
Chapter Fifteen
Frankie
“This will be your room,” Esther said, her voice sounding all sweet and normal like I was just a house guest she’d invited over. “Make yourself at home. It’s an en suite, so that’s your bathroom. The soaking tub is very nice.”
She seemed on edge ever since Viktor left, as anyone probably would be.
The room was pretty, like I imagined it would feel to stay at a bed and breakfast. The bed was a tall four-poster with a quilt and lots of fluffy pillows, while antique books and prints from old fairy tales lined the walls. The mermaids and girls wrapped in bear skins were framed in antique gold. The walls were painted blue and dark wainscoting came up to my waist. It was both grand and cozy. I wasn’t going to sleep a wink here no matter how nice the room was, of course. I tried to look unimpressed. “Fine.”
“I want you to be comfortable here,” Esther said.
“I had a place where I was comfortable already. It was called my apartment.”
“I’m sorry. I just have to protect Mina. I hope Waylon Silver was just using you, but either way, you were here. But it would be so good for Mina to have a friend.”
“We aren’t going to be friends just because we’re both here entrapped by you.”
Esther looked wounded. “It’s not like that! I love Mina. I love all my shifters! The last thing I would want is to hurt anyone. Eden Park’s entire mission is to protect and preserve shifter-kind and break down the barriers bet
ween our races. I pay everyone a fair wage in Merryweather Corp and my shifter employees are very happy!”
“I didn’t really ask,” I said, flopping onto the bed. “I just want to sleep.”
“Of course. Good night. We’ll have a big breakfast tomorrow.”
Excuse me while I barf a hairball onto your big bed. I don’t really know what was worse, the outright cruelty of the hunters, or a woman like Esther who had herself convinced that she was our friend and that Alistair and Mina were totally in love in this mutual relationship when it was very obvious they weren’t.
Still, I didn’t think she was considering that I could be a shifter queen, and she also seemed to know what Mina was, and she wasn’t hurting her or forcing her to use her powers. I felt weirdly safe here. Esther seemed satisfied not to ask me too many questions. Viktor, I knew, would be far from satisfied.
In the morning, Mina rolled into my bedroom. “Morniiing! You gotta get up! Breakfast is ready and it’s stuffed French toast!”
I opened one eye. I saw her leaning over me, hair in pigtails, grinning.
I shut my eyes again.
“Why?” I said.
“Why what?”
“Why are you still roller skating? Why do you not seem hung over? Why do you sound happy? And why do you think I would rather eat than sleep?”
“Oh, I never get hung over,” she said. “Once I sleep it off, I’m good to go. And who doesn’t want a tasty breakfast? You can go back to sleep whenever you want. Breakfast. Breakfaaast!” She did a few circles around my bedroom and then flopped next to me and started unlacing her skates.
I don’t think I like this at all, I thought.
“I’m sorry,” Mina said. “Too much?”
“Way too much.”
“I’m just really excited to have a friend, I guess! I’ve never had a companion before besides Alistair. Like, a girl. I was just excited to have breakfast and show you around and stuff. And Esther says you get to have lessons with me too and we get to go shopping later.”
Black Queen: Stray: Fated Mates Paranormal Shifter Romance (Shifters Among Us Book 1) Page 9