Death at Peony House (The Invisible Entente Book 2)

by Krista Walsh

  Even worse, she had to cope with her lingering desire to slip out of control — to lose herself deeper in the magic and display the greatest show of power since the rites of Avalon.

  Evelyn walked her through each step of the spell as Cheryl sat with her on the floor and held her hands to ground her with her own magic.

  “The first knot in this chain is for your protection,” Evelyn explained. “Like a surge protector, it will stand guard if the demon strikes back through the chain to attack your energy.”

  Daphne wove the threads of the spell, which thickened into ropes and folded over each other into a heavy golden knot.

  “The next knot protects the energy you’re trying to separate. You don’t want the energy to splinter, or the task becomes much more complicated.”

  Another knot. It was slow to bind, each stumble of the spell weakening the knot until she had to start from the beginning. The strain of holding on to the existing knot tightened the muscles in her neck, as though she were lifting a hundred-pound weight.

  “The third knot will drive a wedge between the different energies trapped within the demon,” Evelyn went on. “And the fourth will tear them apart, destroying the demon energy.”

  Sweat dripped down Daphne’s brow, and her palms were slippery against her mother’s fingers, but she wove the last knot. Her mother’s magic, the same golden energy that ran through Daphne’s blood, swirled through hers, boosting her strength and keeping her reserve magic intact.

  “On either end, imagine a hook,” said Evelyn. “One end attaches to you and serves as an anchor. The other you must cast toward the demon’s center. Once it attaches to the demon’s energy, you’ll cast the final spell down the chain, and the other spells will activate.”

  Daphne’s chest tightened with the effort it took to hang on to the magic, and more beads of sweat dripped down her cheeks.

  “From there it is essential you stay focused until the spell is complete. If any energy remains, the demon will still have strength.”

  “Let go now,” Cheryl said, and Daphne opened her eyes, gasping.

  Her stomach twisted and she rolled onto her side with her knees pulled up to her chin. Waves of nausea kept her down, but her grandmother’s cool fingers brushed against her forehead, calming the uncomfortable flush in her face.

  “Each step carries its own threat,” said Evelyn. “You must be able to create this chain in the moment and focus on it while protecting yourself from possible attacks. If the demons get to the victims before you finish the spell, they could devour their energy a second time. If you cast the spell after the victims are devoured, you will separate the energies, but the spirits will be lost. And if the demons get to your energy before you get to theirs, your mind might not survive the attack.”

  “The energy of the living demon will be even stronger than the ghosts’, so keep that in mind when you face him,” Cheryl added, her voice thick with worry. “Your concentration will need to be that much stronger, your timing and aim that much more precise. This is a big risk you’re taking.”

  Daphne nodded, her throat still tight against the nausea as she tried not to retch.

  “I know,” she said through clenched teeth. “But I still need to do it. We need to go through it again.”

  Cheryl helped her sit up, and they started back at the beginning.

  ***

  They worked through the afternoon and into the evening, not stopping until Daphne was able to complete the spell in under three minutes without any slips.

  She and Cheryl sagged against each other on the couch, her mother’s short hair damp and pasted against her forehead, her face flushed.

  Daphne’s stomach was tight, and exhaustion weighed down every muscle in her body, but she felt like she stood a chance against what was coming.

  Evelyn closed her book and rested her hands over Daphne’s. “You think you have an advantage to defeat these demons now, but please promise me you’ll get out of there if the fight doesn’t go your way. I only have one granddaughter, and as much as she’s a pain in my ass sometimes, I love her very much.”

  Daphne nodded and squeezed her wrinkled fingers. “I love you, too. I promise I’ll leave if I have to, Gram, but there are too many people relying on me for me to run at the first sign of trouble.”

  Evelyn raised one hand to press it against her granddaughter’s cheek. “Your nobility warms me, my treasure, but don’t let it push you over the edge. Not when you’ve just come back to us.”

  Cheryl rested a hand over both of theirs and put her arm around Daphne’s shoulders, drawing her closer to kiss her head.

  “Your drive is still to be the strongest and the best,” she said. “I know you’re managing it, but once you let your magic have free rein, you’ll feel the desire to give it more and more freedom, to test your limits and find new strengths. It won’t be easy to pull it back, but you have to. If you want to come out of this encounter alive and with your mind intact, you have to put a leash on your power and drag it kicking and screaming.”

  “I promise, Mom.”

  Cheryl nodded and released her. “Then you’d better get moving,” she said, her eyes glistening. “These ghosts have been waiting long enough.”

  ***

  After a brisk, twenty-minute nap, Daphne awoke feeling far from rested, but better than she had before she’d collapsed on her couch.

  She brushed her teeth to wash off the fuzz and downed three glasses of water to rehydrate after her mental workout. When she felt human again, she dropped back down on her couch and stared at her cellphone, working up her courage to make a couple of phone calls.

  She called Harold first, deciphering his phone number in the chicken scratch he’d given her before she left last night. He sounded surprised to hear from her so soon, but when she explained her plan, he agreed without hesitation.

  “I’ll meet you at the hospital within the hour,” he said, and he sounded almost like a young man, eager to jump back into the fight. “This time I’ll complete my orders, and we’ll get him. I’d leave the kid at home, if I were you. I doubt this’ll be a clean fight.”

  “Emmett won’t be with me,” Daphne assured him. She hadn’t seen Emmett since she dropped him off and hoped he finally appreciated how dangerous the situation was. Once she finished her mission at the hospital, she would track him down and treat him to dinner to let him know how everything had gone, but she was relieved he would be away from the hospital tonight.

  She was also glad she wouldn’t have to go after the demons alone.

  But Harold couldn’t help her with her next challenge. It might not be as difficult as facing demons, but she still had to pace between the living room and the kitchen three times before she worked up the courage to dial the number, and then it took another two laps before she was able to hit the call button.

  The phone rang three times before the familiar deep voice answered. “Avery.”

  Daphne swallowed hard before saying, “Hunter, it’s Daphne.”

  Silence on the line. Her legs trembled. She grabbed the back of her dining chair to keep herself upright. After a moment she added, “Hello?”

  “What do you want, Miss Heartstone?” he asked, sounding exhausted. She steeled herself against the conversation she knew was coming.

  “I wanted to tell you that I’m heading to Peony House tonight. Something’s going to happen, and you need to be there to see it.”

  “You’re what? Daphne, what’s going on?”

  “It all comes down to the history of the hospital, just like I told you. I’d tell you on the phone, but you wouldn’t believe me, so please, come to the hospital tonight and see for yourself.”

  “Daphne —” he said.

  “I’ll be there within the hour.”

  She hung up without hearing his reply, not sure what she would say if he turned her down. Heaving a breath, she put her weight on the back of the chair and bent forward to slow her racing heart.

  Another step do
ne. Only a few more to go to put her plan in place. Before the sun rose tomorrow, the ghosts would be free, and the demons of Peony House would be gone.

  She just had to make it through the night.

  17

  The west-facing exterior of Peony House reflected the blood red of the setting sun as Daphne pulled up the driveway.

  For the moment, she was the only living person at the hospital, and she hoped Harold arrived first. She didn’t want to be alone with Hunter until she had something to show him. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself. Again.

  She didn’t want to go inside.

  Her heart thrummed in her chest and her breath came quickly. She wiped her hands on her pant legs and exhaled slowly, hugging her magic to her as a warm golden security blanket.

  She was armed for this fight and would do her best to see it through, then she would face the consequences. All those ghost victims trapped inside… Sparks of anger prickled her blood.

  Her hands curled into fists in her lap, her confidence rising. For a moment, she felt like the woman she used to be, who had done whatever she needed to get what she wanted. Her old ambition was still there, tucked under the rock of her conscience. She poked at it tentatively and reeled back when it responded with more strength than she expected.

  Be careful tonight, Daphne. Don’t draw too much on your power. You have full control. Remember how much you like being able to look at yourself in the mirror.

  Another deep breath, and she reached for the door handle.

  She let out a shriek as the passenger door was wrenched open. Her magic jumped into her palm, and she pressed herself against the driver side door. Her breath released in a loud exhale when Emmett dropped into the seat.

  “You sent the cops after me,” he said, and enough anger coated his words that Daphne kept her magic close to the surface in case she needed to restrain him. It simmered under her skin, prickling in anticipation.

  “Not after you, Emmett. They had questions about Jack, and I didn’t figure you had anything to hide. It would have looked worse if you avoided them.”

  “What have the cops ever done for me except screw me over and make my life worse? I get by any way I can, all right? Don’t need some stupid authority telling me what’s right or wrong. When they live like I do, maybe then they can tell me what I should do.”

  Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but in his current frame of mind, anything she said would probably go unheeded. She had no idea how to empathize with him, having always had a roof over her head and food on the table, but she did know Hunter.

  “Detective Avery will pretend he never met you. If you told him the truth, you’ll never have to see him again. I know you have a reason to hate everything he represents, but he is trying to bring your friend’s murderer to justice, and so am I.”

  “I’ll leave this city if I have to. Can’t have cop eyes on me all the time,” he said, but his words carried less heat. He squeezed his fists against his jittery legs. His gaze scanned the front of the hospital, watching the movement of the leaves in the maple tree and the swish of the long grass.

  Daphne watched him and allowed her magic to ebb back into her blood. They sat in silence. Daphne didn’t want to leave him in obvious turmoil, but wasn’t sure what to say.

  “What brings you back here?” she asked. “Just waiting for me to show up so you could yell at me?”

  “Yes,” he snapped, then passed his hand over his face. “No. Something happened last night. After you dropped me off. I figured you’d be back here tonight and that I should tell you.”

  The hair on Daphne’s arms rose and she shifted in her seat to face him. “You were supposed to get out of here and return the bike.”

  He bobbed his head and his fingers tapped on his knee. “And I did. After. But first I thought I’d go back in and see if I could do what you did. Talk to the ghosts or whatever. I wanted to see if I could find Jack.”

  “Oh, Emmett,” she said, unable to find any other words.

  “I didn’t, but I did see something else.” His gray eyes lit up and he pointed to one of the downstairs windows. “I was in that room and heard a car pull up outside. I looked out the window and there was that guy, the one in the suit. He paced in front of the house a couple times, like he was looking for something, and then he came inside. I thought I heard him go upstairs, so I crept out of the room I was in and moved toward the door, but he wasn’t upstairs. He was still in the lobby. I know he saw me, so I bolted out of there, got on the bike and disappeared down the street as fast as those gears would take me.” Emmett shook his head and cupped the back of his neck. “Scared the shit out of me, that’s for sure.”

  Daphne stared at the windows and wondered if Charles would make another appearance tonight. Was he already hungry, looking for his next meal?

  “I hope you understand now how dangerous this is,” she said. “It’s not fun and games like a Hardy Boys mystery.”

  “I know that. My friend is dead. There’s nothing fun about that,” he said, and they lapsed into silence. After a minute, he asked, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I’m going to try to kill some ghost demons,” she said, ignoring the spike of fear she felt when she said it aloud.

  “The crispy critter that killed Jack?” he asked, his expression solemn.

  She shook her head. “Not yet, although I suspect Crispy and I will meet again soon enough.” She quickly ran him through the Ancowitz family’s demon history and how she planned to free the spirits trapped inside Peony House.

  “The guy in the suit might have been Barbecue Man?” Emmett’s eyes went wide. “I’m glad I got out when I did. So tonight you’re going after the demons who killed that ghost girl and the others?”

  Daphne ground her teeth. “That’s the plan. That’s why I want you to get out of here. It won’t be safe for you. If you head to my place, I’m sure Gram will be happy to make you dinner.”

  Emmett’s features hardened with stubbornness. “I’m not letting you go in there by yourself. I owe it to you and I owe it to Jack to fight just as hard as you are. If the ghost demons are anything like the crispy guy, who knows what they’ll do to you.”

  “I won’t be alone,” Daphne assured him, and nodded to the other set of headlights pulling up beside her.

  She got out of the car and went to meet Harold as he climbed out of his. He approached her with none of the slowness she’d seen on their previous encounters, and his eyes glittered with resolve.

  “I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he said. “After all these years. I guess I have you to thank for wrapping this up for me.”

  Daphne smiled. “I had help. They might not be an army of guardians, but my mother and grandmother are a powerhouse of information, and are as good at designing spells as they are at whipping up a fresh batch of blueberry pancakes. There’s no one like them.”

  Harold’s wrinkled lips smoothed into a grin. “Maybe I’ll get to meet them when all this is over.” He shifted on his feet to stare up at the hospital. “So it was the family all along, huh? Sneaky bastards. I thought we wiped out the Morgrin demons centuries ago. Can’t believe a single one slipped us by.” He frowned.

  “They were well hidden,” Daphne said, not wanting him to lose his confidence now that he’d found it again. “Even I didn’t see the answer until the ghosts pointed it out to me.”

  “Well, I’m glad they did,” Harold said. He squared his jaw and the lines around his eyes hardened. “So what can I do to help?”

  “If they come after me while I’m weaving the chain I talked about, I’ll need you to help me fend them off. The spell is going to drain my power quickly, so I won’t have too much extra for defense.”

  “You can count on me,” he said. “Feeling confident?”

  “Comes and goes,” Daphne admitted.

  Emmett stepped forward. “And that’s why I should stay. It’s great that you have the old guy to help, but I can do my part,
too.”

  Harold rolled his eyes behind Emmett’s back, then started toward the house.

  “You can do your part by hoofing it out of here,” Daphne said. “If I’m not home by midnight, you have my permission to bring my mother to pick up what’s left of me.”

  “That’s not funny,” said Emmett. He frowned at her in obvious worry. On a whim, not realizing what she was doing until she’d done it, she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

  “I’ll do my best to be all right,” she said, and was surprised when he squeezed her back.

  “I’m sorry for lashing out at you earlier,” he said. “I know you’re looking out for me. I’m not really used to what that feels like. So watch your back. You seem like a decent human being, and there’s not too many of you in the world.”

  She let go as Harold headed up the front steps, and Emmett kicked at the gravel as he loped toward the street. She watched him until he hit the corner and hoped to see another set of headlights cut through the night, but the street remained quiet.

  You can’t wait for him, she told herself, and her shoulders slumped.

  Refusing to look back again, she started after Harold, climbing up the front steps of Peony House for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

  ***

  As though the house knew what her intentions were, its oppressive energy weighed even more heavily on her shoulders. The imprints in the lobby were clearer than ever, but Harold either ignored them or didn’t see them as he strode toward the stairs.

  Daphne followed him, and they headed directly to the third floor. The epicenter of the storm.

  Her heart played hopscotch in her chest, her frazzled nerves not letting her hands rest. She kept her fingers on the walls, running her fingertips over the cracks that seemed to have grown since she’d first come to the hospital earlier that week.