Searchlight: By My Light, Book Four

by Mac Flynn

  "I still don't trust him!" I shouted at Emery's retreating back. Emery paused in the doorway and half-turned to me. I crossed my arms and glared at him. "How can I when he's put me in more danger than a-well, than a paranormal police squad?"

  A ghost of a smile slipped onto his lips. "Has he placed you in danger, or have you led yourself into danger with your choices?"

  I opened my mouth to reply, but the words stuck in my throat. My own traitorous memories told me he had a point. Emery turned away and disappeared through the doors.

  I fell back against the chair and glared at the table. "Damn it. . ."

  I shifted and the necklace in my pocket rubbed against my hip. That reminded me that I had asked Emery about the dagger, but not about the plate. For that I had someone else in mind to help me.

  5

  I returned to my room and grabbed the archaic land-line phone from off the nightstand beside my bed. It felt clunky in my hands as I removed the cordless handset and sat on the bed. I reached out my hand, but my fingers paused over the numbers.

  I furrowed my brow. "What the hell was her number again?" Without my old cell I was a little lost on numbers.

  "Maybe it was. . ." I dialed a number and held the handset against my ear.

  The phone rang a few times before a gruff man picked it up. "Jerry's Meats. You kill 'em, we grill 'em. What can I get ya?"

  I cringed. "Sorry, wrong number." I hung up and glared at the traitorous numbers. The face just stared back at me. My memory recalled another number, and I reluctantly dialed it and held the handset up.

  The phone rang once before a feminine voice answered it. "Hello?" Dakota spoke up.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Dakota, it's Gwen."

  Dakota's voice was loud enough she sounded like she spoke through a bullhorn. "Gwen! It's about time you called me! How's my favorite werewolf? How's your rich boyfriend and his creepy butler?"

  I winced at the volume of her voice and pulled the phone away from my ear. "We're all fine. I was just wondering what you were up to."

  She snorted. "Come on, Gwenny, I've known you long enough to know you hate phones, so what's up? Boyfriend troubles? Fleas?"

  I rolled my eyes. "He's not my boyfriend, and if I had fleas I'd have invited you over instead of calling."

  "Ew. Not nice, Gwen."

  "What I did call you for-"

  "Ah-ha! I knew it-"

  "Was to ask you to do something for me." I drew out the gifted necklace and toyed with it in one hand. The string and the four pearls were wet, but none of the moisture rubbed off on my fingers. "What do you know about mermaids?"

  "So you've got mermaids now?" she guessed.

  "One mermaid, and she wants me to help her get her-" I paused and my eyes flickered to the door. No sound, but I tucked the necklace back in my pocket, threw the covers over my head and burrowed my head under the pillows before I lowered my voice to a whisper. "She wants me to get her plate back from Fox."

  "Her what?"

  "Her plate. She called it a cap plate or something. Think you can look it up for me?" I asked her.

  "How's that spelled?"

  "I don't know, just try c-a-p and go from there," I suggested.

  "Sure thing." I heard the click-clack of a keyboard as she typed in the keywords. There was a brief pause and she sighed. "Well, I've learned something."

  My heart quickened. "What?"

  "You can't spell."

  I frowned. "Did you learn anything useful?"

  "Yeah. That this kappa plate-that's k-a-p-"

  "I get it, but what about it?" I growled.

  "Well, it's some sort of mystical item that allows kappa-that's your mermaid-to draw themselves through mirrors." I heard her sigh. "I wish I could draw myself through one of Fox's mirrors."

  My face drooped. "Have you learned nothing about that guy?"

  I heard her computer chair squeak as she leaned back. "Yeah, that he's taken."

  I arched an eyebrow. "He's going out with somebody?"

  "Come on, Gwen, you can't be that dense that you can't see how much he likes you. It was written all over his face."

  "You mean when he took off my manacles?" I quipped.

  "Yep, and don't forget the only reason he didn't wipe my memory was because you didn't want him to," she reminded me.

  I shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "What is this, an epidemic of dumb?"

  "Say what?"

  "You're the third person tonight to try to tell me that Fox likes me," I told her.

  "That makes three against one, so your going against democracy," she teased.

  "I live a dictator's life," I quipped.

  "Speaking of life, if you're going to be hanging around with a mermaid and the handsomest billionaire in the world you might want to get your hands on some perfume," she advised.

  I wrinkled my nose. "Why?"

  "The alcohol in that stuff should keep your skin dry, and it smells really nice. Fox probably loves that stuff on his women."

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to tell you for the last time. I. Don't. Like--" I yelped when the covers and pillow were torn off my head, and rolled over to find myself staring up at Fox. There was a small, mischievous smile on his lips.

  "Gwen? Gwen, you okay?" Dakota yelled through the phone.

  I glared up at the intruder. "I'm fine, I've just got a bone to pick with someone."

  "Not literally, right? I mean, you are a werewolf, but you don't do that kind of stuff, right?" she questioned me.

  I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed as my narrowed eyes flickered to Fox. "No, but I'm thinking about changing my mind. Talk to you later." I hung up and set the phone beside me before I turned my whole attention to the dark man. "Do you have to scare me all the time?"

  "This is my home," he reminded me.

  "And if I'd been talking to myself while undressing?" I pointed out.

  He chuckled. "Then I would have congratulated myself for my impeccable timing before stepping back into the hall."

  A slight blush tinged my cheeks. I shook it off, jumped to my feet and marched over to the door which I opened before I half-turned to face Fox. "If you only came to be a pervert than I can tell you the show's over. You can leave now."

  The humor fled from Fox's face as he walked over to me and stopped a few inches from me. He was a full head-taller than myself which forced me to look up into his dazzling blue eyes. They studied my face with an intensity that made my legs weak.

  I turned my face away to hide my hot cheeks. "W-what is it? Do I have something on my face?"

  "Emery has informed me you asked him about the Sikin Alqamar," he commented.

  My heart fell along with my shoulders. It was just about stupid work. "Yeah. What about it?"

  "I wish for you to trust me, and in that vein I would like to show you something," he explained.

  My eyes flickered up to his and I arched an eyebrow. "You sure you have time? I thought you were supposed to be talking to some partners right now?"

  "The museum board, actually, but I'm having Emery deal with them," he told me. "But will you come with me?"

  "That depends on what you're going to show me," I replied.

  "Think of it as a matter of faith, and trust," he returned. I folded my arms and leaned to one side to study him. He arched an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"

  "Are you sure you aren't some other William Fox, selfish, paranoid billionaire? Because the one I know doesn't care who trusts him," I mused.

  His smile softened and he held out his hand to me. "Then allow me to be a different man for a short time. Think of it as my apology for earlier this evening."

  I looked from his face to his outstretched hand and back before I lifted my arm and set my gloved hand in his. His touch was warmer than I expected, and gentle as he grasped my hand.

  Fox led me out into the hall and down to the elevator. We stepped inside where he released my hand and turned his attention to t
he pad. I pressed my hand that he had held against my chest and tried to stop the infernal blush on my cheeks from showing.

  Fox pressed five of the buttons for the floors, and each one remained lit until he pressed the final button. I stumbled and grasped the wall as the elevator trembled and moved, but not up or down. This time it moved sideways to our left.

  "Does Wonka know you have his elevator?" I quipped.

  "Merely a coincidence," he assured me as he turned to face me. "Speaking of coincidences, how did you come to learn about the Sikin?"

  I gathered myself and stood. "I found it in a book."

  He smiled and shook his head. "None of the books in the library mention the dagger." The elevator shifted a dozen feet before coming to a brief stop before it began a normal travel downward.

  I reached into my pocket and wrapped my hand around the necklace before I bit my lip and looked away from his dark eyes. "I can't tell you."

  Fox arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

  "Because I promised not to," I answered.

  Fox pursed his lips and turned his attention to the elevator button pad. "I suppose that's a better reason than simply lying to me."

  I winced at the obvious barb, but I couldn't argue. I'd lied to him even as he was trusting me with a secret.

  The elevator stopped, this time for good, and the doors opened to a large, red-carpeted room. The windowless walls and vaulted ceiling were made of white marble, and candles gave light to the many pedestals and long glass cases that stood in neat rows with walkways between each one.

  The centerpiece of the room was a brightly-colored fresco of a woodland scene on the ceiling. A meadow lay in the center, and in that meadow stood a cauldron. Around the cauldron were three women, and their ugly features told me I didn't need three guesses to know they were witches.

  I took a step forward, but Fox wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me back. I whipped my head around and glared at him. "Let go of me."

  "If I hadn't grabbed you this would have happened to you."

  He drew a small pen from his pocket and tossed the object into the room. There was a sharp crackle and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the pen burst into flames. The burst of heat warmed my cheeks for a second before the pen floated as cinders to the carpet. Even those disappeared into nothing after a brief repose on the floor.

  Another step and that would have been me.

  6

  "Now you see why I don't invite you to go first," he commented. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. One of his hands slipped down into mine and he stepped into the room.

  "Wait!" I yelped as I dug my heels into the smooth floor of the elevator.

  He turned to face me and chuckled. "There's nothing to worry about. The security system is not active. See?" He used his free hand to gesture to the room floor on which he stood.

  I frowned and stretched out one leg to tap my foot against the floor. Nothing happened. I took a deep breath, shut my eyes, and stepped inside. There was no electrical jolt. No hair-raising ending to my short life.

  I dared open one eye and found Fox's amused eyes staring down at me. I frowned at him. "What? If I was going to go like that pen then I didn't want to see it coming."

  "I was merely wondering if you were this unusual before your change," he commented.

  "I'm not-hey!" He had tried to slip his hand out of mine. I grasped onto his hand like a drowning person to a life vest. "What the hell are you doing? I could get fried!"

  "I assure you you are perfectly safe," he replied as he drew himself out of my grasp, or tried to. My werewolf strength held him tight. "Do you mind? It's rather difficult to walk with you attached to me."

  I pursed my lips, but gingerly released him. Again, I was without a horrible death. Now that imminent death wasn't so imminent, the ceiling caught my attention.

  I tilted my head back and studied the grand fresco with its three witch-like women. "I think you have an unhealthy fascination for your sister. Times three."

  He followed my example and looked up at the scene. "That is a scene from Shakespeare's play-"

  "Macbeth," I finished.

  He smiled down at me. "You know it?"

  I shrugged. "I had to read it in high school, but I'd rather have read about King Arthur. That whole murder thing in Macbeth kind of stuck in my mind, but I think your sister read it a few too many times."

  A small, sad smile slipped onto his lips as his dark eyes studied the fresco. "When we were children Fay would ask me to read it to her before bedtime. She was most fond of the scene that featured the witches."

  I leaned forward and studied his soft expression. "So you painted it for her?"

  He shook his head. "On the contrary, it was painted only recently to keep her out of the Vault."

  I arched an eyebrow. "The painting is the security system?"

  "The paint used in the fresco is a special mixture that creates a protective magical barrier that encompasses this room," he explained.

  "So did the painter know he was playing with colorful lighting when he was painting it?" I asked him.

  He smiled down at me. "Emery was well-aware of the magical properties in the paint."

  I threw my hands up and rolled my eyes. "I should've known he was the one who did this. How'd he even find the time?"

  "Emery has an astonishing ability to work on little to no sleep, but come. What I want to show you is this way." He strode deeper into the room.

  I followed him, but soon fell behind as I gazed on the many pedestals and glass cases. There were swords, leather balls, a stick that looked like a wand, and even an hour glass within the confines of glass.

  I paused beside one particular pedestal. It had a glass box atop it with a book stand inside. There was no book. I nodded at the empty stand. "The Myrddin Grimoire?" I guessed.

  Fox stopped and half-turned to see at what I pointed. He pursed his lips. "Yes."

  I swept my eyes over the tightly-shut, windowless room with its invisible security system. "How'd she get in here?"

  "Through the use of familiar magic," he told me.

  I arched an eyebrow. "Familiar? Like a cat?"

  He joined me at the case and shook his head. "No, or rather, in this case she used our joined blood to gain entrance. The security system Emery set in place recognized her as me and allowed her entry."

  I folded my arms over my chest and snorted. "What can't that guy do?"

  A smile teased the corners of Fox's lips. "I only employ the best, but come. What I want to show you is over here."

  He led me to another pedestal with a glass case. Inside sat a pillow, and atop its plush cover lay a dagger in a sheath. The weapon had a thick wooden handle, and the blade had a cold shimmer in the bright lights that hung overhead.

  Something drew me to the blade. Maybe it was its mesmerizing handle with its intricately carved depictions of werewolves, or maybe it was the blade that caught my reflection perfectly in its smooth metal. I pressed my palms against the glass and my voice came out as a whisper. "This is it?"

  Fox came to stand beside me and nodded. "It is."

  I tore my eyes away from the blade to frown at him. "So how come you didn't tell me about it sooner? You know, before I almost drowned."

  "I would prefer you learn through experience, but from whomever you learned of the existence of this blade they neglected to mention the risks involved in using its power."

  "What kind of risks?" I asked him.

  "A scratch or even a deep gash of the dagger will trigger only a partial, and temporary, control over your werewolf abilities," he explained as he set his hand on the top of the glass. "In order for you to experience the full effects, and for them to be permanent, you must plunge the dagger into your heart."

  My eyes widened and the beat of my fearful heart quickened. "I. . .I have to stab myself in the heart?"

  He nodded. "Yes. Now you know why I hesitated to tell you."

  I pursed my lips. "I sti
ll can use it to practice being under control."

  "But would it truly be you under control?" he mused.

  My eyes flickered down to the dagger lying on the pillow and my heart fell. "Right in the heart, huh?" I whispered.

  "Yes."

  "Can I miss?"

  "Yes."

  I winced. "So then I'd-?"

  "Die? Yes."

  I sighed and shrugged. "I guess it was too good to be true which means she broke her word first."

  Fox arched an eyebrow. "'She?'"

  I looked up at him and pursed my lips. "A mermaid by the name of Ligeia."

  His eyes narrowed. "Was it she who told you about the dagger?"

  I pursed my lips as I studied his tense face. "Yeah. She said she was one of the ones you trapped. Was she telling the truth about that?"

  "She was one of the first I acquired, yes," he confirmed.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "So you admit you cruelly captured her and brought her here?"

  "Did she happen to tell you how I acquired her?" he asked me.

  My eyebrows crashed down. "What does that matter? You kidnapped her just like you kidnapped me."

  He stepped to the side and looked up at the ceiling. A bitter smile spread across his lips. "No? Then I'll tell you. I discovered her in eastern Asia. A small fishing village had for years been giving half their catch to their water god, otherwise she would reach out of the puddles and steal their children to consume."

  My eyes widened and I covered my mouth with one hand. "Consume? You mean. . .you mean eat them?"

  He turned his head and his eyes swept down from the ceiling to capture my gaze. "Yes. The year I arrived was a bad fishing year. They didn't have enough fish to appease their 'god,' and so their children began to see a reflection of a pale lady in the puddles and in their mirrors. The villagers feared for them and begged me to do something. I captured the mermaid, separated her from her power-"

  "The kappa's plate?" I guessed.

  He nodded. "Yes. She was lured out with one of the children and I managed to grab her plate from her hair where she had stowed it. Without the plate she was rendered helpless outside her water portal and I was able to capture her and bring her here."

  My shoulders drooped and I turned my face away from him. "So I was duped again, huh?"

  A small smile slipped onto his lips. "Don't take it too hard. Many of these creatures are several hundred years old and have survived humans because of their cunning."