The Key of Darkness (The Bradbury Institute Book 1)

by Sonya Clark

  Chet answered. “There are usually binding spells with that kind of work, but they’re not always successful. It’s a huge risk. Magicians have been killed trying to do things like that.” He glanced at his watch, then back at Pete. “Sanngrid should have the Key in the Archives vault by the time we get back.”

  “Good.” Pete turned to Knox. “You and I are going outside for a chat, boy wonder.”

  Knox hopped to his feet. “I want to say goodbye to Eve first.” Offering her his hand, he pulled her up, their bodies almost touching. Trapped between him and the sofa, Eve placed her hands on his chest to push away and leaned her torso backward. Mischief twinkling in his dark eyes, he said, “Eve, I want you to remember me as I am now, before Pete breaks my face. Impossibly gorgeous, devilishly handsome...”

  Pete made a rude noise.

  “And though sadly we were not to be, my darling, we’ll always have Frankfurt. And the back of that limo.” He dropped his head, lips zeroing in on hers.

  She stuck her hand in his face. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Knox.”

  He issued an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “A handshake? That’s all I get?”

  “That’s all you get.” Eve stepped on the sofa to get around him, still offering her hand.

  Knox shook it. “I hope to see you again sometime.”

  “Be careful out there, Knox.”

  Pete escorted Knox from the room. Eve dropped to the sofa, resting her head on the back. “He’s not really going to beat Knox up, is he?”

  “They’ll be fine.” Chet moved from the chair to the other end of the couch facing her. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  “I’m just tired.” She waved a hand. “I’ll be fine after some decent sleep.”

  He watched her for a moment, silent. “What you said before, about reading the ring. You know that’s dangerous.”

  “I saw the man’s face. It was mostly in shadow and not very coherent, but I might be able to recognize him. Crantz said the man saw me too. Chet, look, I know I can’t go back to random jobs and a normal life even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think it would be safe for you live in your apartment either, discounting the commute. You’ll be safer on the Bradbury campus.”

  Eve grinned. “So I’m in? Do I get a decoder ring? I’ve really been hoping for a decoder ring.”

  “No decoder rings, but like I told you before, we were hoping you’d stay. So yes, you’re in.”

  “You will have to tell me about the forest, you know.”

  He grimaced slightly. “We’ll get to that, don’t you worry.”

  “Oh damn it!” Eve slapped the sofa cushion. “The ring Mrs. Delafield gave me, I meant to ask Knox to return it.”

  Chet pulled something from his pocket. “This ring?”

  Eve reached for it, then pulled her hand away. “Could you hold on to it for me until we get back? And I feel more up to shielding.”

  “Sure.” He put the ring back in his pocket. “Or I could have Pete hold on to it for you.”

  She gave him a side-eye look but said nothing. All she wanted to do was take a nice long nap. Everything else could wait.

  Chapter 22

  Eve peered inside the Archives vault from the doorway. It resembled a safety deposit box room found in any bank, except for the runes, sigils, and protective spells painted in neat white script on the black walls. Chet held the Key of Darkness, a small leather-bound volume, in gloved hands as Rami performed the finishing touches on another protective spell for the box where the Key would be stored. Sanngrid had secured the Key in the vault within hours of Knox revealing its hiding place, but this spell would provide an additional layer of protection.

  The strange rolling syllables from Rami sounded at times both grating and melodic. The spell complete, Chet placed the grimoire inside the container. Then he did his own bit of spell work, using his personal institute charm to seal the box.

  Eve knew nothing about the charms until that morning when she’d become a formal member of Bradbury. Everyone had their own personalized charm. Roughly twice the size of a Monopoly game piece, each one was pure silver and chosen for its meaning to the owner. Chet’s was a book, of course. Rami had something he called a D12, which was apparently modeled after dice used in role playing games. Frances had a silver Yorkie. Most wore them on thin silver chains around their necks though Chet kept his on the same chain as an old pocket watch. She had no idea what Pete’s charm was.

  Eve had chosen an apple, not caring what anyone might have to say about it. Not that anyone commented. Judith gave her the chain for it. Eve wore it under her clothes, the silver cool against her skin. There had been a short but complicated binding spell to connect her essence to the charm, as Frances explained it. The spell had to be repeated every day for nine days to take full effect. After that the charm would work as her own personal passkey to the buildings and the grounds, which Eve hoped meant the gargoyles would recognize her as belonging at the institute now instead of as a possible intruder.

  Watching Rami and Chet lock up the vault, she pulled the chain from under her blouse and turned the apple over in her hand. Rami mumbled a quick greeting before darting back to the lab. Chet looked at his office door, shook his head, and made for the exit.

  “Come on, let’s go to the Oracle. I need a drink.”

  Eve followed. “You look relieved.”

  “To have the Key safely locked up? Hell yeah.” He led her to the stairs. She’d noticed he tended to bypass elevators whenever possible.

  She swung her apple on its chain. “I was thinking about that ring I took from Crantz.”

  “Ooh, did you see the look on Sanngrid’s face when you told about that? You have got her respect and that is not something she hands out lightly.”

  Eve smiled. “I did see that. But the ring, I think it might be like the charms here. I mean, if it was just something that belonged to Crantz, why would I see that other man’s face in it?”

  Chet stopped. “That possibility has been considered.”

  “I wish I’d seen him more clearly. It was more of an impression than a picture.” She shook away the frustration. “It could be just a couple of people working together. A few people.” As the words came out of her mouth, Eve didn’t believe them. Some instinct told her this was more than just a few people they were dealing with.

  Apparently Chet’s thoughts went in the same direction. “Or it could be an organization.”

  “A sort of anti-Bradbury.”

  “That wants to get a hold of a supernatural loose nuke to call forth a demon from the lowest pits of Hell. Yeah, let’s go have that drink. Think I’ll make mine a double.” Despite the seriousness of his words there was a certain the game’s afoot flavor to his tone.

  The institute had the appearance of a small private university or think tank or some other intellectual pursuit. The trappings of old money and sedately dressed scholars reinforced that air. Underneath the plaid and proper surface lay a fascination with the occult and a love of danger. Eve knew she could have continued existing in the normal world. This new world that Bradbury had shown her…this was a world where she could live. Perhaps the danger should have scared her but it was far overshadowed by what she might learn about her own supernatural gifts and the endless mysteries of magic.

  Eve palmed the apple charm once more before tucking it safely under her blouse, then followed Chet to the Oracle.

  ****

  Pete sat at a small table along the wall of the Oracle. He pushed away the demolished remains of his meal and took a sip of the scotch Devin had brought him without comment. There were rumors all over the institute about him using magic again. It made some nervous, what with the rumors about his past never having been confirmed or denied. Judith trusted him and her word was final, so the rumors didn’t matter all that much. It was more of an annoyance to be the topic of gossip.

  For three years Pete had lived in fear of embrac
ing magic again, but now that it had finally happened, it felt anti-climatic. Nothing bad happened, he hadn’t lost control, nobody died this time. As long as he stopped, everything would be fine.

  That’s what he told himself, anyway.

  Chet dropped into the opposite chair. “Eve thinks that ring might be like our charms.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

  “You’ve been hiding out since we got back.”

  Here we go. “I’ve been busy, not hiding.”

  “Franny and I helped Eve pack up her apartment and move in here. You should have gone with us, it was fun.” Chet wore an expression of calculated innocence.

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what? Suggesting you enjoy your life once in a while?”

  “You know what I mean.” Pete glanced at the group in the center of the room. Franny, Rami, Devin, and a few others sat around one of the large tables talking and laughing. Eve sat among them, one hand adjusting the clasp that held up her long blonde hair. Had he seen it down? No, he would remember that.

  “Because staring at her from across the room like a creeper is so much better than admitting you’re attracted to her.”

  Pete narrowed his eyes. “I’m not being a creeper. And I’m not staring.”

  Chet grinned. “At least you’re not going to try to pretend you’re not attracted to her.”

  Pete finished the scotch. The burn of the alcohol sharpened his resolve. “It doesn’t matter if I am or not. I’m staying away from her.”

  “I don’t understand why you do this to yourself. You could be happy once in a while. Have fun, go on a date.”

  Pete interrupted. “And you could stop letting Bettine toy with your emotions and go find a woman who actually likes you.” The sudden hurt that flashed across his friend’s face made Pete want to take the words back. “Look, it’s not that simple. I can’t just ask her out and you know that.”

  Mollified but still a little raw around the edges, Chet said, “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re going to use the we work together excuse.”

  “No, but that’s a good reason too.” Pete leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I used magic again because of her. I can’t risk that.”

  “You’re full of shit, you know that? I thought you got past that nonsense about magic being a dangerous drug to you.”

  “Magic isn’t the problem, I am. You, Franny, Rami, Judith, all of you can practice magic and it’s fine. When I call on magic, people die. I’m what’s dangerous, Chet, not magic itself.”

  Chet sat back, slouching down in the chair and looking over at the boisterous group. “You used magic twice to help Eve and nothing bad happened.”

  “Three times, actually. I can’t risk it.”

  “Has it occurred to you it might not have anything to do with Eve? Maybe you’re just finally ready for it.” Pete shook his head, opening his mouth to speak. Chet wouldn’t let him get a word in. “No, really, think about it. You’re a magician, Pete. It’s who you are, on a fundamental level. I don’t know exactly what happened three years ago, but you can’t run from yourself forever. I do know that.”

  Chet rose, cuffing Pete on the shoulder as he left to join the group. Shaking the melting ice in his empty glass, Pete considered his friend’s words. Chet might be right, maybe Pete couldn’t run from himself forever. But he wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot.

  He went in search of a refill, grabbing an entire bottle of scotch.

  Chapter 23

  Pete made his way slowly across the grounds. The alcohol had him halfway between sleepy and hyper-alert. Nerve endings buzzed as the night sang its magic. Part of him wanted to listen, to play along like he used to until he couldn’t tell the difference between his own magic and the nights’. He pushed the desire down, sealing it tight in a box and shoving it in a corner to be forgotten.

  If only it were that easy. The taste of it hovered just past his tongue, on the other side of all the booze and sleepless nights and blood-soaked dreams. It was a special kind of torture, staying here at Bradbury surrounded by magicians. He might have thought that made him a masochist. But no, that just made him crazy. What made him a masochist was staying so close to a gateway to Sideways.

  As soon as the word drifted into his thoughts his feet began to carry him to the spot. It was deep in the woods, deeper even than the gates to Above and Below. The forest should have been dark out so far from the institute and the lights of the grounds. The closer he got to the gate the more the night seemed to glow. A blue-green bioluminescence leaked from every living thing in the forest, still visible to Pete despite his refusal to use magic. Pixie light winked as the creatures darted through the air. One came close, bathing him in a hot fuchsia glow. He batted it away.

  A ring of stones marked the gate. Inside the ring was a single tree, large with limbs twisted in an impossible tangle. Pete stared, pushing back against the onslaught of memory.

  The crack of a twig breaking drew his attention. He whirled around to find Eve standing near a copse of vegetation, watching a pair of pixies flit above. It didn’t appear she’d seen him. Her blonde hair in its usual tidy updo looked almost teal in the strange light. Her full sensual mouth was parted slightly, curved lips approaching a smile. A faint hint of gold glimmered in her wide green eyes, a sign of the magic she barely understood or knew how to use.

  The pixies took notice of her, flying around her in loops then dive bombing. She ducked, trying to swat them away. One sneakered foot caught in the undergrowth and she fell backward. Her laughter rang like a bell, driving away the evil spirits of memory.

  Pete rubbed his face. Too drunk to be out here, too drunk to be around her. He walked toward her anyway.

  “Oh!” She finally saw him. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  He stood over her and extended his hand. “You’re not supposed to be out here.” The words came out harsher than he meant them.

  Leaning back on her elbows, a lazy half-smile giving him ideas he’d never admit to, Eve looked in no hurry to leave the forest floor. “I like the pixies.”

  “You drunk?”

  She closed one eye. Not a wink exactly, more like, ah hell, he didn’t know. But it was damn cute. “Franny and I shared a bottle of wine.” She drew her legs up and crossed them, bouncing one foot. Her skirt slipped dangerously low but she didn’t seem to notice.

  Pete certainly did. “And after that?”

  Eve giggled. “Then we shared another bottle of wine.”

  He knelt beside her, resting one arm across his knee and linking his hands. “It’s not a good idea for you to be wandering around in the forest. It’s not safe.”

  She rolled her head back, wrinkling her nose. “Oh come on! What’s out here? Panthers or something? I just wanted to see the pixies.”

  “There’s worse things than panthers, and they’ve got bigger teeth.”

  Staring, her eyes a little unfocused, she said, “But it’s so pretty out here.” She shook her head. “Why is that?”

  “Anything wild is beautiful, even if it’s terrifying.”

  She sat up, arranging her skirt to cover her thighs. “That’s a really lovely thing to say. Are you drunk too?”

  “Little bit, yeah.” He sat beside her.

  “What I meant was the light. At first I thought there was some weird Christmas lights out here or something. But then I couldn’t see it.” She grabbed his arm, looking him directly in the eyes. “But then I could again! It’s very strange.”

  Pete gently extricated himself from her grip before responding. “Tell me what it looked like.”

  She blew out her breath. “I don’t know. Kind of green and blue and sometimes there was some silver. It’s just the wine, isn’t it?”

  Whatever kind of magic was inside Eve that let her read objects was capable of doing more. If she wanted it, and if she worked at it. He was not the person to talk to her about that, especially while they were both drunk. “It’s late. Let’s get you home
.” He stood, pleased with himself that he didn’t wobble too much.

  This time when he extended his hand she took it. He pulled her up, misjudging how much force to put into it, and she wound up colliding with him. For a brief moment the softness of her body tantalized him, then she stepped away.

  “Mr. Bad Attitude.” She giggled.

  “What?” He smiled before he could stop himself, so quick hopefully she didn’t even notice.

  “I couldn’t remember your name at first, so I thought of you as Mr. Bad Attitude.” She placed the tip of her index finger on the placket of his shirt, trailing down three buttons before his brain started working again and he grabbed her hand. “You’re not so bad though, are you?”

  Something wild and reckless filled him. Holding her hand, he drew her to him until they were barely a breath apart. “Miss Kane, it is with regret that I must inform you I am very, very bad.”

  Eve shivered. With his free hand he cupped her cheek, tipping her chin up. Her mouth was lush and inviting. He had no business accepting that invitation. His brain knew that, but right then, his body was in charge.

  He brushed his lips across her. A tiny whimper escaped the back of her throat. That sound, so soft and barely audible over the chorus of the forest at night, reverberated through him with a shock. It had been so long since he’d known any tenderness, tasted any sweetness. She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled herself close to him. Her body pressed to his, her lips moving under his. A link in the chains of his control snapped.

  Pete wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands making a slow exploration of the indentation of her hips. He slid his tongue across the seam of her lips. She opened herself to him, darting her tongue quickly in and out of his mouth. Sweet nectar burst across his senses, spiced with magic and Eve’s own feminine allure. Another link crumbled into dust.

  He splayed one hand across the small of her back, the other gathering the hem of her lightweight sweater. He skated his fingers over soft, cool skin. The press of her breasts against his chest spurred him further and he caught her full bottom lip between his teeth.