“We are not together. He hasn’t asked me out and you know I won’t make the first move.” I took a deep breath and sat next to him on the couch. “Somebody wants him dead. Those same people injected me with some drug which made me lose the last week. I don’t know about you, but these are the kind of people that need to be taken down.”
“Then let the cops handle it,” he said, calming down. “Tell them everything you know and let them do their jobs.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Aiden isn’t exactly innocent. He’s made his situation right with the cops, but any information he gives from here will be suspect. That, and they aren’t really happy about the accident in the first place.”
“They never are. Hard not to look like a hit and run when we take the driver off.”
“Yeah, but this time we got sloppy.” I closed my eyes and let my head drift to the floor. “I got sloppy.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I got out of the ambulance, my purse must’ve fallen out. The police showed up at my door before I went to Aiden’s and asked me some questions. I told them the purse had been stolen the night before, but I’m not sure they bought it.”
“So they know you’re involved.”
“They suspect I’m involved, but they don’t have the slightest clue how. I don’t need to remind you what will happen when they figure it out.” Unauthorized use of magic is a fairly significant crime in the old world. One punishable by death or the removal of any magical abilities the person may possess. While they rarely punished good Samaritans with the death penalty, they might look at my gross display of negligence in the matter and decide I no longer deserve to have them.
Then to make it worse, they would also go after Greg, even though the only part he plays in our little game is that of a driver. Due to his powers he is a registered wizard though not one bound to the silly group they call the Grand Council of Wizards. He gets all the benefits of having the ability without all the crap that comes with the title. The only downside is that he isn’t supposed to use his abilities in the presence of anyone else though they mainly are talking about the new world, otherwise known as the masses of non magical humans that walk the earth.
He shook his head.
“I promise you we will get the police involved if things get too deep, but right now is not the time.”
“Then when is the right time? When they find your body in a dumpster somewhere?”
“It won’t come to that.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“Last time I didn’t know what those people were willing to do to me. I can promise you that won’t happen again.” I’d already made myself that same promise. They had got me with the needle because I wasn’t willing to lay my hand on the table. As of now, they still think I’m a normal, everyday human who they could disregard and throw away like another piece of garbage. Little did they know they were messing with a witch. Not just any witch, but one of the most powerful witches in the southeastern seaboard.
“Maybe we should go together,” he said, sounding sincere. Even still, I was guarded, especially after our argument.
“You can’t get caught using your powers in the open. All it takes is one slip up and this place will be swarming with wizards.” Given their bullshit politics, they were the last people I wanted to deal with now. “Besides. Someone needs to run the bar.”
“I guess that means I have to put up with Molly for a while longer.”
Forever, if I had my say. “She isn’t so bad. You know she’s single, right?” I joked, nudging him in the ribs.
He shook his head and grabbed fork and got back to his meal. Can’t blame a girl for trying to ole other girl diversion trick, can you?
We finished our greasy Chinese food in relative silence then he got dressed and left for work, leaving me with the dirty dishes and equally dirty sock. I’d decided to wait on the ritual until after he left, so he didn’t get any wise ideas about following me. One benefit of our differing magic meant that he couldn’t use the same ritual to follow me, though if he was here, he’d have a decent idea where I’d went.
I placed the dirty sock on the now cleaned off coffee table and grabbed six tea light candles from one of his kitchen drawers along with his barbecue lighter. The only thing I was missing for my ritual was something to write the runes on the table with. For a passing moment, I considered drawing them with the fat black Sharpie in the same drawer as the candles, but as funny as that would’ve been, I didn’t feel like spending my weekend stripping and staining it. Instead, I opened my purse and grabbed a near empty tube of lipstick that was in the bottom of my purse. I also grabbed his salt shaker in case something went critically wrong followed by a wet washrag to clean off the table when I was done.
With everything gathered I’d need, I sat on the floor and starting drawing the runes starting with a perfect circle in the middle of the table. Perfection is critical with this part of the process. If the circle is even slightly off, it could throw off my tracking spell by miles. And that’s saying he was somewhere close. The further your target gets, the worse it gets if it isn’t right. I’m talking the difference between finding the person you’re looking for and realizing they are in a city hundreds of miles away.
Once I was content with my perfect circle, I worked on the runes. They were mainly directional symbols around the inner edge of the circle, to help determine his direction, one in the center to represent him, and one off to the side to represent me.
I placed the candles around the outer edge of the circle, spaced evenly. Like the circle, these have to be placed in the right spots, otherwise the spell could fail completely, or do something completely wrong, which was why I brought the salt. The last thing you want is to summon a demon and not have the means to deal with it.
Or to get away.
Once I was content with the placement of everything, I took the sock and placed it in the center of the circle, right over the rune representing Aiden. I gave the whole thing one final look before closing my eyes and starting my spell.
The tracking spell is one of those that relies far more on preparation than the actual words. If I was in a church, you’d swear I was just speaking in tongues, but in reality I’m speaking the words. The language of the spell isn’t as important as the meaning I convey behind it.
In my mind’s eye, the spell created an image in my head. There is a large mansion somewhere just outside Atlanta. It’s a three-story monstrosity that looks to have six or seven thousand square feet of living space. And that doesn’t count a basement if there’s one attached.
I call houses like this, a wife’s nightmare, or you better hire a damn maid to keep this up, because there is far too much living space for one person to even attempt to keep up by themselves.
Sure, the house could belong to some eccentric millionaire who has each room decorated to display random trinkets he’s bought or picked up over the years. But even those rooms need the occasional dusting, and you can bet your ass he won’t be the one doing it.
In front of the house, I notice about twenty cars filling the long driveway with another six parked right out front. I allow my focus to draw outward and up. The sensation feels similar to the drone videos that have been popping up on Youtube at an alarming rate lately though mine is free from a sudden crash and subsequent spinning free fall.
The house is the only one on the street for nearly three miles, which explained why they could park so many cars in the street and not have the police or an angry homeowner’s association beating on the door. I followed the road back until it lead to the closest highway which was 20 to the north. Before I let the spell go, I let my little drone vision pan out just a little more, so I’d have a better idea once I plugged the location into Google Maps.
I stopped my trance and opened my eyes, immediately shattering the vision I’d had moments ago. Before I stood up, I let my brain process my new re
ality. That’s something you learn to incorporate into your routine after you break your arm because you lose your balance and crash to the ground.
If I’d done everything right, I knew where Aiden was. Of course, I had no idea if he was alive or dead as the spell only shows you where he is, not his actual body. It was enough for me, so I jumped in my car to rescue him again.
After cleaning up my mess, of course.
- 14 -
I stopped the car about a half mile from the house once I saw the line of cars parked right out front. On either side of the road were endless rows of trees behind a steep drainage ditch, which would make it near impossible to hide the car. I thought about driving past the house to find another place to park, but I was afraid it would draw a lot more attention than I wanted. This whole mission relied on stealth with a healthy dose of improvisation.
I did a u-turn and scanned the road for a place to pull off and found a small gravel road that led a few hundred feet into the woods. It wasn’t an ideal spot, especially if the owner of the road decided he needed to get back, but it was the best I had given the short notice. I grabbed my purse and phone then locked up the car before making the trek back.
Fifteen minutes later, I approached the house to notice it was every bit as extravagant as it was in my vision. The finely manicured lawn in front of the house was easily the size of six city blocks. There were a dozen or so trees around the property, each surrounded by paving stones placed in a circle while resting in a bed of mulch. There were a few other spots on the yard decorated with flowers and bushes, also protected from the lawn care company by paving bricks.
Off to the side of the house there was a large pond, or was it a small lake? In either case, it had a fountain in the middle that shot a steady stream of water at least twenty feet into the air.
Even though there a bunch of cars parked outside, there wasn’t anyone in sight. Either everyone was inside the house, or the owner was a car collector who liked to display his collection in front of his house. Unlikely given what I knew about collectors.
I crept along the side of the driveway, using the line of cars to keep me out of sight of the front door since I wanted to scope out the rest of the house before I found myself inside. Partially see if the backyard was as lovely as the front, and partially to have a better idea what I’d be dealing with if I had to make a hasty escape.
The side of the house was lined by a gravel bed, outlined with even more of those paving stones. In the gravel there were three large bushes, spaced evenly across the side. Between each bush there were two smaller thorn bushes snaking in and out of decorative woodwork nailed together to create a criss-cross pattern. By this point I wondered if the owner of the house also owned a landscaping company. That, or he had more money than he knew what to do with.
As I got closer to the back, I heard the low roar of noise that sounded like groups of people conversing. I peeked around the corner and noticed dozens of people gathered around an in-ground pool in the center of the yard. Oddly enough there wasn’t a single person in the water, even though it was nice enough to swim.
I guess everything at this house was for show.
Most of the people were dressed in what I would consider business casual. Namely, khaki pants or blue jeans with a complimenting polo shirt. The women, in contrast, were wearing knee high, or higher, skirts with a matching blouse. For the most part, the men outnumbered the women six or seven to one, but from what I saw it seemed more like a business meeting than a formal party.
To my side I heard the sound of something mechanical springing to life. Something that sounded like a chain clanking on the other side of the wall. There was only one thing it could be. The garage door.
On the side of the house, I was in a veritable no-man’s-land. If stepped out to the back I’d be in clear view of the party and thanks to whoever opened the garage door, I couldn’t go back, so I stayed where I was, though I turned my attention to the driveway since I was sure I was clear from the yard.
A tall man stepped out onto the grass holding a pack of cigarettes in his hand. He pulled one out of the pack and placed the rest in his shirt pocket before pulling out his lighter. He flicked the flint and brought the lighter to the tip of his smoke when he dropped the lighter.
“High there, handsome.” I walked up to him, shaking my hips for full effect. “Need a light?” Before he could answer, I reached into my purse and pulled out my trusty Zippo, flicked it to life, and held it to his cigarette. I’m not a smoker by any means, but I’ve found it handy to keep a lighter around in case of emergencies. Sometimes that emergency is as simple as being able to light a customer’s cigarette to keep him at the bar for another drink or three. Others, the emergency is needing to light a candle or a small campfire. Then there are the magical implications of having a source of fire close by.
To manipulate an element, I have to have some of it close by. I can use a lake to create a sudden storm, the dirt mound of an anthill to build a shelter, or by using the fickle flame of my Zippo, I can send a pillar of fire outward nearly twenty feet. And that’s just the beginning.
“I haven’t seen you around. You here for Walt’s party?”
I batted my eyelashes as I pushed my lighter away. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I took a few steps back and looked at the house which felt like a castle from up close.
“It’s big, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “I’d get lost in a house like that.”
He shrugged and took a drag. “You get used to it after a while. Thank god Walt doesn’t rearrange the house often, otherwise it would be a nightmare.”
I snickered. “I bet.”
“So,” he exhaled the smoke, right in my face, “who are you here with?” I had to hold my breath to keep from inhaling the foul smelling cloud. I know blowing smoke at someone is supposed to come off as sexy, but to me it is downright offensive. If I didn’t need to find a way inside, I’d cause the cigarette to burst into flames while making sure his shirt or his pants also caught fire. But, I kept my inner pyromaniac in check and decided to flirt back.
“I’m here on my own,” I said with a sigh, then I turned around to look back at the group in the back. “Me and my ex broke up the other day. I had a hunch he was playing me, but I didn’t know for sure. But there he is, flaunting her.” I said the last part of that with as much disgust as I could muster, channeling the best of the women I’d seen on the late night talk shows.
“Who’s that?” he asked, peeking around the side next to me.
“The one in the green shirt and black pants.” I pointed, as if there was more than one person wearing that outfit in the crowd.
“Randy?” he said.
I had to hold in a smile as the dummy willingly gave me a name. Instead, I nodded as I continued to watch the group intently.
“He’s been with Jaina for two years now.”
“What?” I balled up my fist and strained my face purposely, turning it a nice pretty shade of red. “That no-good, two-timing…” I slammed my fist against the side of the house to sell my rage.
“Wow,” he said and his jaw dropped. “I can’t believe he’d do that to her.”
“You know what I say we do?” I turned around and bit my lip, trying to look even sexier than I already was. “Why don’t you invite me to the party so I can rub it in that I’ve moved on.”
“I don’t know,” he dropped the cigarette on the ground, stepped on it, then picked it up and placed it in his shirt pocket. “Walt usually likes to know who’ll show up ahead of time. He might be mad if I just walked in there with you.”
I leaned in and kissed him on the small of his neck and whispered in his ear. “You sure I can’t talk you into it?”
His face clammed up damn near instantly and sweat beaded on his brow. I had him right where I wanted him. Shame he didn’t realize where that was.
Not my fault he was dense.
I reached in and grabbed his arm and held it against my
chest and started leading him to the back, but he pulled back two steps in and gave me a stern look.
“I have to go back in through the garage. Walt doesn’t like it being open to begin with, but he won’t let us smoke inside.”
I glanced up at him and smiled. “Is the party inside as big as the one out here?”
He snorted. “I guess you’ve never been to one of Walt’s parties. The group inside is three times as big.”
My eyes widened as I looked at him. “How does he keep the house so quiet with so many people here.”
He shrugged. “No idea, but I’d guess he paid a contractor big bucks to make it that way.”
I wasn’t so sure.
We formally introduced ourselves on the way inside the house. His name was Jason, an employee or something of the guy who owned the house. He was single, lived in a small apartment, yet couldn’t stop bragging about his brand new Mercedes. Some people have their priorities all screwed up.
He asked about me and I told him my name was Annie, a waitress at a restaurant in Atlanta. Thankfully, he didn’t press the issue and ask the name of the place, otherwise I’d have had to come up with something on the fly. I didn’t think this was the type of crowd that would be impressed if you were a server at Denny’s. But his interest was only knowing what I did. Apparently that was enough for him.
Jason stopped me at the door long enough to hit the button on the garage door opener. For some reason, he didn’t want me walking into the house alone, which was fine with me. I knew I’d look like a deer in headlights as I walked inside. Going in with him was making me nervous enough without the added pressure. When he opened the door, and I got a good view inside, I was glad I waited.
Far Too Young To Die: An Astraea Renata Novel Page 9