The Shoppe of Spells (The Gatekeeper Series)

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The Shoppe of Spells (The Gatekeeper Series) Page 25

by Grey, Shanon


  She pulled her attention back to the problems ahead of them. “I’m worried about Kayla and Meadow as well. I know he left the will, leaving them everything. If we help him go through the portal, he disappears. No body, no death. I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but I think they’ll have to wait seven years for him to be declared dead.”

  “As much as I hate it, I think we need to bring Bask in on this. And I have a feeling he’s not going to like it at all.”

  “I want to help Ian, in spite of what he’s done.” She moved back to the chair opposite him. “I don’t know why, but I seem almost compelled to help him.”

  “Do you think it’s him? Is he making you feel this way?” Dorian looked concerned.

  “No. He could have done that earlier. He didn’t.” She shrugged. “Maybe we should talk with him first. Then call Bask.”

  “Just be careful, Morgan. I don’t—”

  She moved to stand between his legs, looking down into his upturned face. “I’ve got you,” she interrupted, brushing back an errant lock of black hair. “Besides, he needs both of us to open the portal.”

  A horrifying thought entered his mind. Ian had taken Morgan, but it took two to open the portal. Who did Ian expect to help Morgan? Ian. God, had he planned to drag her through with him? As the thoughts played through his mind, his arms went around her and he buried his face into her midriff, inhaling the sweet scent that was Morgan. He could have lost her.

  Without telling her the direction of his thoughts, he stood, took her mouth with his and poured himself into the kiss. When he pulled back, they were both breathless.

  “Let’s go talk to Ian,” he whispered. “But keep your distance. I don’t trust him.”

  “Me either,” she laid her head against his chest for a moment. “Me either.”

  Ian was awake when they entered the room. He was sitting up, his back against the wall. The creatures were moving about his feet, a little further away from his body. Morgan pulled Dorian further away, across the room toward the cot where she’d been tied. They sat, side by side on the cot.

  Ian lifted one side of his lip in a half smile, half sneer. “I see you’ve availed yourselves of my hospitality.”

  Morgan blushed. Dorian smiled back. “And nice accommodations they are, too,” he challenged.

  Ian laughed. “No fool you. Keep yourself and your mate strong, by all means.”

  “By all means,” Dorian hissed through clenched teeth.

  Morgan took a breath, ignoring Ian’s slight. “We’ve come to discuss helping you. You might want to choose your words more carefully.” Her tone was even and clipped, her eyes blazed.

  Ian looked at her, tilted his head and studied her. “Why?”

  “You’re dying and, unlike you,” she added the dig, “we have a sense of humanity.”

  “So the witch and her wizard are going to send the wicked sorcerer back from whence he came.”

  “Ian,” she straightened, fighting not to let his ugliness alter her intent, “you didn’t come from there any more than we did. However, something has you convinced that you will survive on the other side, better than here. If you can convince us of that fact, maybe—just maybe—we will consent to help you get there.” His sneer propelled her. “Or to hell, for that matter—it makes no difference to me.”

  Ian looked at Dorian. “She has spunk, that’s for sure. Shame I didn’t get to her first.”

  Dorian started off the cot. Morgan’s hand grabbed his wrist. She felt his energy pulse and rise.

  “You didn’t,” she chided. “And…” she paused for effect, “I seriously doubt you would have been successful. I still have free will.”

  Ian harrumphed.

  Morgan found him appalling. For two cents, she’d shove him and his little creatures right through the portal, ready or not. Dorian sensed her anger and took her hand in his. They looked at one another. It was one of those moments when they knew exactly what the other was thinking and it didn’t need to be spelled out. They smiled at one another.

  Dorian spoke, “Say we decide to help you ‘cross over.’ You disappear. What happens to Kayla and Meadow?”

  “Besides becoming very wealthy women?”

  “There won’t be any body,” Morgan stated.

  Ian smiled. This time it seemed genuine. “I’ve taken care of that. I will need to talk to that asshole of an attorney you have—Bask—first. I would prefer to do that in private. The less you know about my business the happier I’ll be.”

  “As long as Bask okays it, we’re good to go. Oh, one thing. I want John here during our little experiment. As a safety. Well…actually…his safety will be off.” Dorian stated matter-of-factly.

  Ian shrugged. He was growing weaker. His bravado was slipping.

  Dorian dialed Bask. They spoke for a few minutes and he handed Ian the phone. The man, even slumping next to the sink, held quite a presence. Dorian took Morgan’s hand and led her out of the room.

  Someone knocked on the front door. Dorian opened it to John.

  “You want me?”

  “How does Bask do that?” Morgan asked.

  Dorian just shrugged and led them back down the corridor, explaining the make shift plan that they had so far. John’s response was to check his weapon.

  “I’m ready. I would like nothing better than to have to shoot that son of a bitch.”

  Morgan placed her hand gently on his arm. He looked at her and shook his head. “I suppose I have some anger issues where Ian’s concerned.”

  “I don’t blame you. He’s not a very nice man.”

  “Ironically, he was. When he was dating Kayla, we all liked him. He was funny and fun loving, and seemed to adore her. Things started changing about three years ago.”

  “He’s sick, John. In fact, if he stays here, he’s going to die.”

  “Couldn’t happen to a…” John let the words trail off.

  “How are Kayla and Meadow?” Morgan reached for a better topic.

  John immediately brightened. “Great. Meadow’s healing very rapidly. I guess I can be grateful to Ian for that one fact. Kayla’s talking about getting an apartment in the area. She likes it up here.”

  Morgan brightened. “I might have a great idea. I have an apartment. It has two bedrooms and allows pets.” She was thinking of Mrs. T. “You might mention it.”

  Dorian watched her. This was the first mention she had given that she might be going back with him. Her eyes caught his and held.

  John saw the exchange. “I think I’ll go call Kayla right now.” He pulled out his phone and walked toward the front of the house.

  “You’re coming home with me?” Dorian asked.

  “I…I’ve been thinking about it,” Morgan whispered, her voice failing her.

  “Please, come home with me,” he said and stepped in front of her, framing her face in his hands.

  “Hey out there!” Ian yelled through the door. “Come get this infernal phone. He wants to talk to his minion.”

  Morgan and Dorian broke apart. Dorian stepped toward the door and turned back to her. “This discussion is only tabled.”

  She nodded and followed him into the room.

  Morgan was astounded. For all of his bravado, Ian looked like he’d aged five more years. There was a sheen of sweat across his brow and his skin had a grey pallor and was now etched with deep lines. She took Dorian’s hand and closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she looked at his aura. There were pits in it. Even the glow that surrounded him had taken on a mottled look. The creatures were swirling closer to his middle again, almost as if they were trying to give him strength. However, she couldn’t be sure of that. When Dorian stepped forward to retrieve the phone, they turned to him in unison, their eyes widening, their glow deepening. Where they warning him off, or finding an attraction to his energy? They made no move toward him. When he stepped back out of range, they settled back around Ian’s middle.

  She blinked, returning his image to normal, or
what was normal for him. The violet glow, even broken, encircled him, whether she looked at him with enhanced vision or not. She glanced down at the small creatures nestled close to him. They were the same color. The closer they got, the more even his aura became. Morgan believed he might just be a throwback of the humanoid individuals he claimed once crossed into this plane.

  “I’ve a fax machine in the library. Bask will be sending some legal crap for me to sign. When you go get that, bring the white envelope on the desk back with you. You will give that to Bask. He knows about it. Let’s get this show on the road.” He dismissed them and settled back against the wall.

  Dorian talked with Bask as they walked into the library where the fax machine was already spitting out papers. Morgan pulled out the documents, took them to the desk and stapled the sets together, grabbed a clipboard from the desktop and a pen from the drawer.

  Dorian picked up the envelope from the desk. “Do you trust this to be what he says?” he asked into the cell phone.

  “Given our discussion, yes,” Bask said. “Have him sign all copies and fax them to me. Then, you two will do your thing and pray it goes as planned. Give John the envelope, as well as the signed forms. You’ll take John’s car and head back to Morgan’s parents’ house. John will wait there for the Abbott crew.”

  “What do we say to Kayla and Meadow?” Morgan asked Dorian, who relayed it to Bask.

  “John will take care of it. I want you two as far away from this as soon as possible, understand?”

  “Yes.” Dorian said and hung up.

  Morgan didn’t want to think about the implications of what they were doing. She knew she was an accessory to something. She didn’t want to go any further than that. She kept Meadow in her mind and tried to think how much better she would be without Ian in her life. Kayla, too. His death was imminent. Putting him through the portal could save him, if his theories were right. If not… She didn’t want to think about that.

  John’s beaming face pulled her away from the morose thoughts that were setting her nerves on edge. “Jenn says she’s going to take them over to see the apartment this afternoon. She thinks it’s a great solution. Says she wants to talk with you later—no if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

  “I’ll call her tonight.” Her voice broke.

  She felt Dorian’s arm slip around her. “It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Morgan looked at him. He was the picture of calm. She didn’t feel it. The unknown was scaring her to death. Maybe she didn’t have what it took to do this. Or…to be part of the Abbott group…or Ruthorford.

  He kissed her temple and leaned his head in against hers. She felt the current build and converge on her spine, where his hand rested. She took a deep breath.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She felt better. Stronger. She wasn’t used to needing help from anyone. All her life, she’d been strong, physically and emotionally. She’d never had an illness. Her exuberance with living seemed to encompass others. People tended to be happy when she was around. There seemed to be no carry over from the nightmares. Now that she knew she’d been dreaming of the Gulatega, her concerns about them had vanished. The idea that she might need strength from someone else was a new concept, but one, at least for the moment, that she was willing to embrace.

  “Shall we go in?” Dorian gently guided her toward the small room across the hall.

  Ian was lying on the floor, his arm pulled back. Morgan rushed to him. He looked to be sleeping, except his breathing was shallow and wispy. “Mr. Macintosh?” she touched his arm, ignoring the creatures swarming around her. She felt feather-like sensations along her legs and arms where they came in contact with her.

  Ian opened his eyes and blinked. “I guess I fell asleep,” he said as he struggled to right himself. Dorian moved toward them, but she waved him back. Morgan helped Ian sit up. “I have the paperwork you asked for,” she said softly.

  He smiled at her, “You really are a bonny lass,” he said and took the clipboard. He looked for the signature lines and signed his name, over and over, never once stopping to read the documents.

  “Do you want me to read it to you?” she offered.

  “No, lass,” he smiled at her. “Bask and I have come to an agreement.” He handed her back the clipboard, then grabbed her wrist.

  A second of panic went through her until she saw the furrow in his brow. “One thing you can do for me. When this is over,” his voice broke, “check in on my Meadow, now and again. And tell Kayla I’m sorry.”

  “I promise.” Morgan covered his hand with her own. She felt energy go down her arm and into his hand. She heard his intake of breath. She hadn’t intended it. She remembered thinking how weak he was and trying to give him sympathy. She jerked back her hand.

  “It’s okay, lass,” he chuckled. “I appreciate the effort. I see you don’t quite have a handle on it yet.”

  Her face reddened and she tried to smile.

  Dorian reached down, his voice not as accommodating as Morgan’s had been. “Let’s get these cuffs off you. John and I will get you up while Morgan faxes back the paperwork.” He looked at Morgan. It wasn’t a suggestion.

  She took the clipboard and left the room.

  By the time Morgan was finished faxing the documents, re-stapling them and putting everything in a manila envelope for John, she had calmed. This was the best way. For everyone involved. If he stayed here, if she helped him heal—and she had no doubt from what she’d done in that room that she could—he could still be a threat to Meadow and Kayla, and possibly herself. But, she felt she still had to offer.

  He was sitting on the cot, looking like a tired old man, when she walked back into the room. She swallowed and looked around the room where he had held her prisoner. And drugged her. It didn’t change things.

  “Mr. Macintosh,” she began.

  “Ian, child. Call me Ian.” His voice came out a bare whisper.

  “Ian. I can help you. I felt it when I put my hand over yours. You felt it, too. You don’t have to do this. You can stay here.”

  Dorian grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

  She pulled away from him, went and knelt down in front of this weary man and stared into his faintly glowing eyes. She ignored the creatures gathering at her feet. “Ian, let me help you. You don’t know what will happen when you go through that portal. You could die.”

  “I’ve planned this for years, Morgan.” He gently patted her hand, but removed it before her energy moved through him. “I’m ready to do this. But I truly appreciate your offer.”

  She nodded and stood, tears forming in her eyes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It took the effort of both John and Dorian to get the increasingly weaker man down the steps into the lab. As Morgan watched from behind them, she was amazed that they didn’t trip over the Gulatega swarming and swirling around and between their legs. They seemed to have no interest in Dorian. John seemed to be unaffected as well. Still, she watched the creatures for any change in movement and John for any sign of confusion. She still couldn’t tell if they had substance in this dimension. Neither Dorian nor John seemed to take much notice of them. Every now and then, she would see one or the other shiver, as though they’d walked through a spider’s web, but their footing remained even and strong.

  In the lab, Ian had them help him sit on one of the stools so he could explain some things he thought were pertinent to what they were going to do. Apparently, it wasn’t going to be as simple as Dorian and Morgan touching and opening the portal. The embedded gems and crystals were placed in specific locations for a reason. There were more stones that had to be strategically placed. He had them searching through the milieu of papers strewn across counters to find a diagram. He swore he had it memorized but he wanted to be damned sure to get it right this time—since this would probably be his only chance.

  In a safe, Morgan found several bags of gemstones, none of which looked familiar but all
of which she was sure were worth a fortune. Following Ian’s direction, she took the stones with them into the cave room and placed each stone exactly as Ian indicated. On the wall, he had her feeling for a ledge here and there and placing one just so. Twice, he had her exchange stones. When she was done, he had John and Dorian help him move about the room to make sure of every stone’s placement. By the time they were done, Ian was gasping for breath and sweating profusely.

  “Are you sure you want to do this while you are so weak?” she asked.

  “I don’t think it’s going to get any better, lass. We best be getting on with it.”

  Ian took a yardstick and walked to the center of the room, looked around, and turned slightly. He drew a line in the dirt. “This is where the portal should start to open.”

  Morgan looked around. It definitely looked like the location from earlier. “Does it come from the floor?”

  “Very astute.” Ian pointed to the line. “I’ve embedded stones beneath the floor. They correspond to the earth’s energy grid that crosses this location. There are also stones to the side and in the ceiling. I need the portal to be large enough for me to cross. Generally, they are small and the Gulatega barely squeeze through.” He reached in his pocket, withdrew a beautifully carved stone, set it in the middle of the line.

  “Two things…” he turned to them, “When I am gone, I want you to take the stones in the walls with you. I am turning the house and everything over to Bask. For now, I don’t want just anyone following me willy-nilly. Please. I beg of you.”

  Morgan looked at John and Dorian. They nodded. She turned and nodded as well.

  “And the second thing?” Dorian asked.

  “I want you two to stand over there, by that ledge. When this opens and widens, I don’t want you two being sucked through.”

  Morgan immediately stepped back.

  “John, your safest place would be in the lab, but knowing you won’t do that, please at least stay at the entrance, as far back as you can. I don’t want your natural rhythms to screw this up.”

 

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