Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1)

by Kimberly Keane

  We pulled into the courthouse parking lot at seven thirty the next morning.

  “Next time you need to have him reschedule the meeting to a place easier to defend,” Daniel said.

  “It’s a courthouse. The security there is higher than anywhere else.”

  “Yes. But I can’t take any weapons in there.”

  “Nobody else can either.”

  “Except someone who can alter other people’s memories.”

  “Shit.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  Mr. Wesley was waiting for us in the lobby, just past security. The building was huge. It made even Mr. Wesley look small. I introduced him to Daniel and lowered my voice as it echoed back to me. The building was beautiful, but the columns spread around the spacious foyer set my teeth on edge. I felt both exposed and as if anyone could be hiding behind any of the columns.

  We went to the meeting room Mr. Wesley had reserved, and I managed to keep from looking back over my shoulder. He laid his jacket across the back of one of the chairs. “If we go to trial, the footage we’ve acquired should throw some doubt on the plaintiff’s arguments and lend credibility to ours.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in that statement,” I said.

  “But, civil trials have less stringent standards of proof.”

  “What does that mean in English?”

  “In a criminal trial, the jury finds the defendant guilty if the case is proved beyond a reasonable doubt. In a civil trial, the plaintiffs only have to prove it is more likely than not something happened in a particular way.”

  “So, in my case, if the jury believes I cursed Mr. Bradley, I’m screwed.”

  “It’s a judge, not a jury, but you’ve got the point.”

  “I’m screwed.”

  “They’ll first have to convince the judge that the curse is real. If they fail, we can highlight the possibility that Mr. Bradley is insane.” He pursed his lips. “If they are as convincing as you and Miriam, we’ve got enough evidence you acted in self-defense, and we can claim Mr. Bradley’s actions brought the curse to him.”

  “But it still looks like I cursed him.”

  “To save your life.”

  “I hope the judge sees it that way.”

  “It’s my job to see that she does.”

  I took a deep breath and rubbed my hands over my face. There was a knock at the door. I raised my face from my hands and looked at Mr. Wesley, raising my eyebrows. He shook his head and returned the silent question. I shook my head too. I turned to Daniel, a knot forming in my chest.

  “Get in the corner,” he said.

  I did so, and he stepped in front of me. My heart beat so hard I thought it might crack a rib. I hoped it wasn’t Rick. I hoped Daniel didn’t get hurt. Dammit, Daniel needed to be able to carry his guns. I was going to have to think about where we went more carefully so we weren’t put in this situation again.

  Mr. Wesley opened the door. There was a group of people in the hallway, but I couldn’t see past Daniel or Mr. Wesley.

  “Please, come inside,” Mr. Wesley said.

  “Wait,” Daniel said. “They need to come in one at a time: men first, shortest to tallest.”

  Mr. Wesley looked at Daniel. “Seriously?”

  Daniel stared at Mr. Wesley, and Mr. Wesley shrugged and passed along the information. Several men started to file into the room, followed by the women. The last through the door was Carol Bradley, Mr. Bradley’s wife. She met my eyes briefly, blushed, and looked away. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding after the door closed behind the group and Rick wasn’t there.

  We all found seats around the large table except Daniel, who stood behind me. I glanced at everyone; they were looking at me. “What can I do for you?” I said.

  “You need to be quiet,” Mr. Wesley said to me. “Let me do the talking.”

  I nodded and sat back in my chair. I’d happily hand over the negotiation reigns to someone else.

  One of the men sat forward. He had the lightest hair and complexion I’d ever seen, coupled with eyes that were nearly black. It was a striking combination. “We’re Mr. Bradley’s employees. I’m Paul.” He reached his hand out and Mr. Wesley shook it.

  “Marcus Wesley.”

  Daniel leaned forward and whispered something in Mr. Wesley’s ear. Mr. Wesley nodded and then addressed Paul. “How did you know we’d be here?”

  “We’re psychic.” He left off the obvious “duh” at the end of the statement.

  Mr. Wesley glanced at Daniel, and Daniel nodded his head. Apparently, the answer was good enough.

  “Why are you here?” Mr. Wesley said.

  “We’d like Amanda to break Mr. Bradley’s spell.”

  “I’m sorry?” I said.

  Mr. Wesley turned his face to me and pressed his lips together. I pretended to zip my mouth shut, and he turned back to Paul.

  “What spell, and why do you think Amanda can break it?” Mr. Wesley said.

  “Mr. Bradley imprisoned each of us when we went to work for him.” Paul scooted his chair closer to the table, put his elbows on it, and steepled his fingers. “It’s allowed him to use our abilities and kept us from using them unless he wanted us to. It also kept us from being able to discuss it with anyone, even each other.”

  “And yet, you’re discussing its existence now,” Mr. Wesley said.

  “It surprised us too. John happened to say something out loud.” Paul lifted his chin and nodded toward John, whose rail-thin frame towered over everyone, even sitting.

  John nodded. His bald head reflected the overhead lights, and I noticed that he didn’t have even the slightest bit of stubble.

  “Why do you think Ms. Bryne can remove the spell?”

  Carol cleared her throat. “Because I told them she’d taken it off me.”

  I wanted to say that I hadn’t removed it, my friend Randy had, but remembered that I wasn’t supposed to talk. I must have made a small sound because Mr. Wesley looked at me fiercely and then turned back to Paul. “Why don’t you have someone else remove it?”

  “We’ve tried. No one’s been able to.”

  “Why didn’t you just quit working for him?”

  Paul laughed humorlessly. “We have a binding employment contract.”

  “You could still break it.”

  He shook his head. “We can’t. The binding is magical.”

  Mr. Wesley pinched his nose, sighed, and dropped his hand back to the table. “Why did you agree to work for him, especially under those circumstances?”

  Paul looked at his hands. “At the time, each of us was in a . . . personal crisis. Mr. Bradley contacted us and offered . . . let’s just say he could fix our problems, serious problems, in exchange for becoming his employees.”

  Mr. Wesley turned to me and leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “Can you break the spell on them?”

  “I can try.”

  “Don’t say anything yet.” Mr. Wesley straightened back up and addressed Paul again. “Mr. Bradley is suing Ms. Byrne for allegedly cursing him. If Ms. Byrne had done such a thing, it would have been done in self-defense. We need testimony as to Mr. Bradley’s character should this line of defense become necessary. If you have information that will support her need to defend herself against him and will testify, she’ll agree to try to remove the spell.”

  “So, you need us to tell you what he’s capable of?” John said.

  Mr. Wesley nodded.

  “We’ve got plenty of information on that topic,” Paul said, “but if she doesn’t remove the spell, we can’t risk testifying.”

  Mr. Wesley leaned into me again and whispered, “If you can remove the spell, it’ll help our case. I don’t see a downside to you trying, but it’s your decision.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I looked around the table and then nodded at Paul. Everyone shifted in their chairs as if they’d been holding their breaths through Paul and Mr. Wesley’s discussion. I closed my eyes, exhaled, stepped into the a
lternate realm, and recoiled at the sight. I hadn’t stepped into that realm since my exposure to akasha, and the variation, depth, and vibrancy to the colors hurt my eyes. I closed them tight against the onslaught. I sat there for a few minutes, trying to calm my mind, inhaling deeply, and got another shock. I opened my eyes again to look around, forgetting about the brightness, and closed them quickly. I could smell, well, everything. But the strongest scent was wood. Not that oiled wood smell, but a rich, earthy scent. Not quite that of a forest, but as if I were facedown on a table. Older wood, dried wood, like a sawmill. I inhaled again. Daniel. That gun oil and leather scent that I only noticed when I was close to him. And others. Others I couldn’t name.

  Finally, I looked through slit eyelids, ready for the onslaught. I rejoiced and lamented at the same time; my ability to distinguish nuances of emotion just took a great leap, but the learning curve that came with it was steep. But I was getting sidetracked. That wasn’t what I was here for.

  Still, I recognized an opportunity when it arrived, and I’d take the opportunity, sidetracked or not. I looked around the room, focusing on the women and measuring each of them in the fullness of the alternate realm. All of them had significant power and I now had the perfect opportunity to determine if any of them had created the curse. I went to each of them, bracing myself and touching their emotions. Worry, anxiety, sadness, anger, frustration, hate. There were other emotions too, but small and insignificant compared to these. My own frustration rose; none of them carried the insanity of the curse-maker’s signature. Back to the drawing board. I’d have to call Harry in again for more leads.

  The illumination from the alternate realm glinted off the nets that enveloped Mr. Bradley’s employees and wife. The protection spell Carol wore when I originally saw her and the one I’d superimposed over it were gone. I went to her, reached out, and grasped the net. I jerked my hand back, cradling it against my chest and hissing through my teeth; it was like grabbing a pincushion, pointy sides out. I checked my palm; it was covered in red dots. Either the spell had been enhanced since Randy and I first removed it, or my sense of touch had intensified.

  I reached out again, this time with both hands. I steeled myself, gritted my teeth, snatched the net, and pulled, leaning against the tension that increased the more weight I put into it. The damned thing slid out of my hands and snapped back over her. Tears hovered at the corners of my eyes as I looked at my palms. Rents ran over my skin, and they felt wet.

  I hissed again as I wiped my hands on my pants. I didn’t want to try another person, but I didn’t know if Mr. Bradley had paid special attention to his wife, which meant it was possible the other nets wouldn’t hold. I went to Paul. This time I bellowed as I pulled, using it as a barrier against the pain, but the net held. I tried only once more as my hands were starting to look like raw hamburger.

  The nets weren’t going to let go. I looked around the room. Perhaps there was another way, but I wasn’t experienced at breaking spells. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

  I turned back, then glanced around the table, my hands twisting in my lap. I sighed and looked at Paul. “I couldn’t do it.”

  A few of the women let out a sound that a hurt animal might make.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “What did you use to try to remove it?” Paul said.

  “I tried to pull it off you. It’s how the spell was taken off Carol.”

  “Can you throw something destructive at it?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve not done much in the way of spell breaking. I could try, but none of you have shielding, so if the net doesn’t catch the energy, it will hurt you, and any shielding we do would probably land outside the net.”

  Paul slammed his hands down on the table, causing several of us to startle and gasp. “What else is there? Something must have happened to let us talk about it; there has to be a way to leverage that.”

  “Maybe the spells are starting to break down. That can happen over time,” one of the women said. She had skin the color of dark roast coffee, gray hair, and moss colored eyes. Her skin glowed. Literally; it cast off light. It was subtle. So subtle I couldn’t tell if I were seeing it in the alternate realm or the mundane one.

  “I’ve worked there for ten years and the spell has never showed signs of degrading. He’s been very careful to maintain them. Why would that change?” The final man spoke and glared at each person, me included. “We need to find someone more powerful.”

  I can break the spells. I almost let out a startled scream at the sound of Urd’s voice. She’d been quiet for a long time and I’d almost forgotten she was there.

  How?

  I’d need use of my power.

  Which means our time together increases by another week.

  Correct.

  I touched my fingers briefly to Mr. Wesley’s shoulder and he leaned down. I whispered to him, “How important is it that we get their testimony?”

  “I expect it to be necessary to gain either the testimony of these people or others that are aware of Mr. Bradley’s baser nature. I’d say important.”

  I scrunched my eyes closed and shook my head. Finally, I sighed and said to everyone, “I’ve got another way.”

  “What way?” Paul said.

  I really didn’t need to get into the details of why Urd was riding me, so I chose to ignore the question. I held up a finger and closed my eyes, if only because I had done it the first time I’d tried to break the spell. Okay. You’ve got use of your powers until they’re free.

  Urd’s energy spiked and I could swear the darkness behind my closed eyes increased as dizziness swept over me. I straightened my spine and gritted my teeth as the power thrummed through my body. I felt like I was going to explode. I wanted to run around the building. Instead I opened my eyes and stood, walking briskly around the room and trying to calm my racing heart. Everyone watched me curiously, but stayed quiet; well, everyone except Daniel, who followed me around the room.

  Urd called my attention to the imprisonment spell, and I saw the nets through her eyes; she forced my vision deeper, to the strands that made up the net. They moved. A vibration I could see. I was completely mesmerized as I felt her power reach toward the net. It wormed into the strands, within the movement, within the particles, and expanded, pulling the threads apart. The structure of the spell collapsed and dissipated.

  It is done. Her power drained away. I stumbled and caught myself on the back of my empty chair. I felt Daniel’s hands around my waist, holding me upright, and then they were gone. I tried not to want him to put them back.

  I made it back to my chair and plunked down. I peered through the hair that had fallen in my face. “The spells are gone,” I said to no one in particular.

  Mr. Bradley’s employees and Carol sat up straighter in their chairs. The almost black of despair gave way to surprise and tangerine excitement and finally to relief and amber happiness. Their auras stretched and elongated. Much like I had done when Urd’s power ran through me, they stood and moved around the room. I couldn’t help but smile at their delight. Their excitement countered the fatigue that fell on me when Urd’s power drained away. I wasn’t ready to run a marathon, but I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out anymore.

  Why did the use of your power drain me? Did you use some of my energy?

  No, but you acted as a conduit, which required energy to control and direct the power. It was not my intent to make you weary.

  I’ve never felt that way.

  You probably haven’t interacted with that level of power before.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Wesley said, bringing my attention back to the room, “I’m pleased that Ms. Byrne was able to free you. I hate to return to less happy circumstances, but I’d like to hear an example of what you’d have to say regarding Mr. Bradley’s character.”

  Paul sat up straighter and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He nodded at the man who had glared at us earlier. “Henry, tell them about the CEO,
the one from the waste disposal company.”

  Henry straightened in his chair as if it were a posture he rarely took. He glared at each of us once more before starting his story. “Some time ago, I received a call from one of the board members of the company. Their new CEO had asked the board for permission to pay the medical bills a family had incurred saving their daughter from a drug she’d ingested; drugs that should have been destroyed in the facility. One of their employees was trying to poison his next-door neighbor’s dog and the little girl got ahold of them instead.” Henry paused, returned to his slumped position, and then continued. “I asked the board member if they would like us to vet and guarantee a contract between the company and the family to limit the company’s liability. That’s not what he had planned. He wanted to stop the CEO—keep him from admitting any guilt or from going public with the information. I told him I didn’t think we could do that.” He paused again, opened a water bottle he had brought with him, and took a long drink. “The board member called Mr. Bradley. Within a month, Mr. Bradley had an agreement between the CEO and the company as well as the CEO’s resignation. Then he told me I’d be taking a week off without pay. He said I’d be feeling under the weather. I wasn’t sure what he meant until I felt my energy drain. He’d pulled so much from me, I lost fifteen pounds; I was too tired to eat.”

  “What did he do to the CEO?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t know if I want to know.”

  “What is the CEO’s name?”

  “Bruce Weston.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Wesley said, pulling out a legal pad and a pen, “that’s exactly the type of information we need. Would you please write your names and contact information down so I can contact you and discuss your testimony?”

  The pad circled the room quickly and I glanced up to find Carol near my elbow.

  “Amanda.” She blushed, like she’d done when she first came into the room, and couldn’t meet my eyes. “I . . . I’m so sorry. I couldn’t believe . . .”

  I nodded, knowing that she was referring to our last conversation: the one where she’d hung up on me.