She sighed as the wall straightened out; they were heading back to ninety-degree corners.
We should be back by now.
They walked silently with the sounds of the basement reverberating and surrounding them. There was a leak in one of the pipes that hung above their heads; the water dripped in a rhythmic pattern, matching their footsteps.
“I’ll have Bucky find her, and I’ll interview her, see what she knows. You’re off grid now?”
“Yeah. Protection protocol. And I need someone to find Zola. I’ve been calling her for hours and she’s not answering,” Annie said. The thought of Zola still missing weighed heavily on her mind. No matter how much they spoke of other things, it was never far from her thoughts. Annie knew something was wrong.
“When did you see her last?” Concern dripped in Cham’s question.
“This morning. Something’s wrong. I keep pushing that feeling deep inside. But I know it.”
“I’ll have Spencer go to your house and check on her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll feel better once you’re at Tartarus.”
“Me too. The headmaster insists we’re safe here. But I’ll leave in the morning. Less likely that anyone will be on the prison island during the day. Not with the risk of exposure so high.”
With the last turn, they returned to the elf. Annie hated leaving Bitherby alone with the headmaster. Turtledove should have been handling school issues, not Wizard Guard problems.
Bitherby was still whining as they walked up.
“Yes, Bitherby, but you left the space in worse shape than you came to it. We can’t have that, now, can we?” the headmaster asked.
“Everything okay?” Annie asked.
“Miss Pearce, Mr. Chamsky.” Headmaster Turtledove nodded briefly. “I was just explaining to our elfin friend how we don’t leave our hosts worse off.”
Annie motioned for the headmaster to join them They stopped on the farther side of the basement.
“Since you and the other teachers were able to chase away the wizards from the black market, do you think we can move to a warmer part of the castle? Somewhere away from the students. It’s a little musty in here.”
“Annie, I think we can accommodate you with that request. Whoever those men were, I will tell you, they weren’t well trained in the casting of spells and were easily chased away. We set up another protection spell further into the forest. It’s a bit stronger than we normally need, but the extra safety won’t harm anyone.” He grimaced. “I believe you have several guards patrolling the perimeter. I expect everyone here is safe and sound.” He turned to Cham. “Will you be staying, Robert?”
“I’m not leaving her alone.” Cham crossed his arms. It was a conversation started when he had first arrived, with a call to Milo at Wizard Hall. Cham wouldn’t leave Annie, and Milo wanted someone else to protect her. Annie stayed out of it. In the end, it was decided that Cham would stay, and Gibbs would pick up in the morning.
Knowing this, Annie couldn’t imagine that Gibbs would enjoy romping around the school, trapped with her and one thousand wizards in training.
*
True to his word, Headmaster Turtledove gave them free reign in a wing of the school used when the student population swelled during the school year. Annie glanced at Cham, who had easily fallen asleep. His breath was slow and even. Under the circumstances, he was peaceful.
Annie was not. Too exhausted to sleep and lacking work or the ability to leave, she headed to the dormitory lounge and switched on the television in hopes that it would help her fall asleep.
Because they were in a wizard school, they lacked access to many cable stations. Annie settled on the Cable Witch Network and leaned back in the deep, comfortable sofa just in time to hear the broomstick racing scores. It was a busy week for all of the teams, including the Chicago Demons, her hometown team, the one that included her ex-boyfriend and the top racer in the country, Charlie Andrews. For him it had been a miserable season plagued with injuries, the last keeping him out of action for the next two weeks. As a fan, Annie wasn’t happy about it, though she wasn’t exactly sad either.
Annie yawned when the report turned to the weather. Her eyes closed but fluttered back open during the Wizard Council news. Realizing she might have missed any reports on her John Doe, she switched stations, finding the Chicago news, curious if there was any nonmagical update on the case. Even though the body was switched, the files changed, and the magic removed, Annie guessed the police department was still investigating, and something was bound to come about. She just wanted to know.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” Gibbs asked and joined her on the sofa.
Annie sighed. She hated being guarded. “Too keyed up. Checking on Benaiah updates. Just in case. Why are you here? I wasn’t expecting you until morning.”
Gibbs grumbled and crossed his arms. They sat in silence, watching the news drone on. It was mostly the same information she just heard on the wizard news. She sighed, dropped the remote in her lap, and rested her head against the sofa, no longer watching. Her eyes roamed the room, which was similar to her own former dorm lounge with a large fireplace and comfortable furniture, though the color scheme in this room was darker and heavier, than the dorm she lived in. The furniture, artwork, and rugs were mostly the same and probably all purchased at the same time.
Nearly asleep, she could barely process what she was seeing through half-closed eye as the reporter finally reviewed the updates on the John Doe case. Annie’s eyes popped open, and she finally saw it: The portal was so clear in the shot as if it had grown stronger, or maybe the camera was just that good. Annie sat up and moved to the television for a closer view.
“Girl, what do you see?”
“The portal.” She pointed.
Gibbs joined her. “Damn,” he said. “Who’s that?”
He referred to the hiker, someone out after eleven p.m., walking through the forest preserve that was otherwise closed at this late hour. The sweatshirt and oversized pants did little to keep the hiker inconspicuous as he or she examined the portal. All of Chicagoland could see her.
“It’s a woman, I think,” Annie said out loud, based on the hiker’s size and the fact she had hips. Her stomach lurched.
As the journalist continued with her report, the woman in the distance examined the air, sticking her hand inside. Again, the wind gusted and swirled around the clearing. The reporter shivered as the wind blew into the shot.
I know the hiker is Rebekah.
That uneasy feeling settled in Annie’s temples where a migraine typically formed. Though she wasn’t surprised, her mouth popped open when the woman turned toward the camera; it was indeed Rebekah Stoner.
“What the hell is she doing?” Annie said, incredulous. “People in the Chicagoland area know who she is. She’s been doing morning reports for the last year. Is she bat shit crazy?”
“Told you, you shoulda called Lightner.”
It was no longer a problem for another day.
Chapter 19
Graham Lightner arrived with Allen Crosby, Sky Starling, and Bucky Hart to Rebekah Stoner’s condominium. It was after three in the morning when she left for the television studio to prepare her first report of the morning. The wizard guards watched the reporter as she bounded from her home and entered her silver car. After the tires peeled away from her parking spot, they waited ten minutes before heading up to her apartment.
They easily unlocked the door and slipped inside the main room, making themselves comfortable as they searched for anything pertaining to Annie, Jack, and magic.
“Bucky, all things computers and AV equipment,” Graham ordered. “Allen, handle the living area. Sky, the kitchen. Like always, low, minimal light. I want anything that looks like magic, even if it seems innocuous—anything, even if it seems like something a nonmagical would own.”
The lights remained off so as to not draw attention. Their only light, the low dim glo
w from their crystals, was strong enough to search and low enough for the outside world not to see.
With the jobs assigned, the group broke and spread throughout a comfortable, country-casual décor with heavy pine furniture and floral fabric everywhere. Allen began his search under the soft seats, inside pillows, and under slipcovers, before overturning the pine coffee table and feeling for hidden items. He moved to the wide assortment of books that took up the shelves lining the back wall.
As Allen examined the main living space, Bucky eagerly opened Rebekah’s laptop to scrutinize the files. He ignored the sounds of searching as he clicked on the first window. As he reviewed the reporter’s files, his eyes grew wide with surprise. A whistle escaped his lips, but that wasn’t enough to pull the attention of the others from what they were working on. The hundreds of websites and files surprised even Bucky Hart, who had hacked and broken into more computers than he could even remember.
Cabinets squeaked open, boxes were shaken, and cardboard opened as Sky, off in the kitchen, began a thorough search of the cabinets and drawers. She left nothing unopened.
“Where would you hide files you want nobody to know you had?” Graham asked himself as he walked into the very feminine bedroom covered in pink and featuring a four-poster bed complete with ruffled bed skirt against the middle of the back wall. Knowing humans weren’t original in their hiding spots, Graham dropped to his knees, expecting to find simple storage containers under the bed. After finding only dust balls, he slid farther underneath and released the heating vent cover. Flashing the light inside, he realized Rebekah wasn’t as stupid as he hoped.
Graham opened the first of several dresser drawers, feeling under Rebekah’s clothing and personal objects. Finding nothing of consequence—no potions, herbs, or USB drives—he moved to the bedside table, again finding nothing but some pens and notepads. He pocketed those for further investigation before moving to the bathroom sink, medicine cabinet, and dirty clothes hamper, all of which contained nothing out of the ordinary or odd.
Back inside the bedroom, he started on the small closet filled with clothes, packed so tightly inside that it took some time to run his fingers through the items, searching for anything that didn’t belong to the nonmagical world. Quickly, he ran a crystal over the clothing. After coming up empty once again, he closed the door.
The last item was a large armoire that stood at seven feet. The ornate case was decorated with colorful purple and red flowers, and it took up much of the walking space in the room. Graham yanked on the fake, crystal-inspired plastic handles and quickly thumbed through the piles of clothing. He felt behind the television and patted down the sides. There were no pockets or hiding spots along the sides; the shelves and boxes stored on them contained nothing useful. The bottom was covered with shoes, heels in every color and a row of flats. He stepped back, resting against the bed.
It has to be here.
Graham stared at the armoire.
The floor!
There was something about the bottom of the armoire. It seemed… off. The proportions were wrong.
He tapped on the floor. A gentle, hollow sound bounced back to him.
After removing twenty pair of shoes, he patted down the bottom, searching for a latch. Pulling up on a small piece of ribbon, Graham discovered folders, boxes, flash drives, and a phone inside.
With a swipe of his palm across the screen, he turned the phone on and scrolled through the call log. Arnold Schwartz was the only call Rebekah had made from this phone. Graham checked the photo gallery and saw pictures of Annie with Cham, Gibbs, Spencer, and Jack Ramsey. He swiped through the seemingly endless pictures: the team in a parking garage, Annie and Jack in Millennium Park, Annie and Cham outside an apartment building as she carried a book. The newest pictures were of Annie at the John Doe crime scene with Gibbs, searching the ground—and a picture of the portal location hanging between two evergreen trees.
Seeing something in the picture, Graham increased the size. He knew Rebekah had sensed the portal; he knew why when he noticed the haziness of the entrance hanging there. He dropped the phone inside a paper bag.
The folders included blown up pictures from the phone and notes on the crime scene as well as notes from a meeting between Jack and Annie at the park.
I ran after Anne Pearce. I followed her to an alley with locked doors and no exit. She was missing. Disappeared in thin air. There’s something so weird about this woman. Her relationship to Special Agent Jack Ramsey, her reason for being at the double homicide. Why is she so special to be investigating the murder of Princess Amelie?
So why did she disappear? Where did she go?
Teleportation?
Whoa, Graham thought as he placed the folder inside the bag along with the flash drives she stored in the box. When he had confiscated all that was there, he replaced the floor and shoes and headed to the living room.
Bucky continued to delete files and folders in Rebekah’s computer, wiping away her search history and her magical bookmarks.
“This girl really found the stuff,” Bucky said, wiping another folder.
“Yeah. I found pictures and notes. What did you find?” Graham’s jaw dropped as he viewed the website links stored in the computer that Bucky quickly pulled up. “Are these real sites? Real magic or nonmagical magic?”
“A mix. I’m a little concerned Rebekah found so much.” Bucky said, his fingers clacking against the keyboard.
“I wish Annie had said something sooner. I found Rebekah’s burner phone, folders with notes about teleportation, pictures, and some flash drives for you to look at.” He dropped the paper bag on the desk beside Bucky.
“The reporter’s smart. I assume we’re wiping her memory too?” Bucky reached for the phone in the bag and turned it on, churning through the information was inside.
“Yeah. She knows more than any nonmagical should know,” Graham said. “Listen we’ll have to hit the studio. There’ll be people there at all hours, I’m sure. Quick in and out, freeze the room. Do what you have to as fast as possible.”
“What about her real phone?” Allen asked as he finished a search of the bookshelves. He added another book to his pile.
“With her, probably. When I erase her memory, I’ll delete what I can,” Graham said.
“Good. Look at these books. Chicago Public Library, occult titles. Teleportation.” Allen held the pile out.
Graham threw him the paper bag. “Real books?”
“Some.”
“Sounds like she took everything she could find and stumbled on the real magic,” Bucky commented. “Oh, and here on the phone. This Arnold Schwartz. I’ve dealt with him before. He’s the computer guy with the Chicago Police Department. You’ll need to wipe his memory.” Bucky dumped the phone in the bag.
“Yeah. I’ll handle that tonight.” Graham sighed.
“Found these hidden in a box of cereal.” Sky headed in with potion cards and a mixture of herbs.
“She was really good. Persistent, and found more than I would have figured,” Allen said, adding the books to the paper bag. “I think we need another sweep before we head out.”
“Okay. You handle that. When Bucky finishes, I want the three of you to head out to the studio. I’ll stay here and wait for our reporter to return.”
When the computer beeped, Bucky inserted a flash drive. After he hit enter, the computer whirled, and the screen scrolled through thousands of lines of code as it attacked everything inside Rebekah’s laptop, destroying everything.
An hour after arriving and after summoning anything about Annie, the Wizard Guard and anything pertaining to magic, the VAU and the computer hacker headed out to find the reporter.
*
Fairy magic was different than wizard magic. While wizards needed access to the outdoors—either through an open window or a door—to teleport from inside a building, fairies could pop in and out of buildings, caves, or even from underwater. It didn’t matter. Zola, wherever she was, should
have been able to respond to Annie and come to her. It wasn’t in the nature of the fairy to ignore her charge when being summoned. This worried Annie, Cham, and now Spencer.
After receiving Cham’s phone call, Spencer surmised that the fairy had most likely come home before Annie and had been taken, hopefully stashed away somewhere and not done away with. Had she come home after Annie, Zola would most certainly be with her charge right now. Believing she was hidden, Spencer chose to search the garage first on the off chance it was too much hassle to move her elsewhere.
Annie hadn’t done much with the space since Jason died. It was filled with tools, odds and ends, car parts, and her 1966 Mustang under its winter cover. Zola hadn’t been chained inside, though; when Spencer lifted the cover, the car was empty. After declaring the garage free and clear, he headed into the house and to the basement.
The larger room contained workout equipment, boxes both empty and filled, and a sofa pushed against the far right wall. A closed door on the back wall opened to a storage area and laundry room. Spencer took a deep breath and tugged on the handle. It was locked.
Odd.
Spencer knocked. “Zola, are you in here?” he shouted through the door. When he received no answer, he twisted his wrist six inches from the handle, cast the spell, and popped the lock.
Inside the small room, Spencer found an empty metal chair, open and resting against the cement wall. He knelt beside two iron shackles laid open on the ground, dotted with spots of blood that congealed around the edge. A unique trait of fairies was they were afraid of iron because it burned their skin. These shackles would have rendered Zola’s magic useless.
Spencer’s flashlight picked up the smallest of clues: more blood spots on the floor, strands of golden hair caught inside the joints of the chair.
She was here!
Spencer bolted from the back room and up to the kitchen. He had a guess as to why they had taken the fairy. He flipped through the piles of paper, searching for a ransom note. He ran to the back door, which had been recently repaired with magic. Finding nothing, he ran to the front door; a note was stuffed inside the mailbox.
Wizard Hall Chronicles Box Set Page 51