Heartache (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 5)

by Annie Bellet

  So I couldn’t tell them the whole truth. I skimmed all the magic parts and waved off a question about the giant crack in the floor from Baldwin. But I gave them the gist. Killer psycho ex-lover out to hurt me, who came to my shop and attacked my friend.

  “Describe this guy for us?” Dickson actually had a pen out. He glared at Baldwin when the younger detective snorted and shook his head.

  “About six foot one. Black hair a little longer than Balls’ over there. Gold eyes, they look like contacts but they aren’t. Skin a shade or so lighter than mine, less brown, more just tanned looking. He was wearing a grey wool coat.” And will probably kill you if you get too close or try to detain him, I added silently. “He’s very dangerous,” I said instead. I hoped that Samir would at least be trying to fly below the human world’s radar. He’d never drawn huge attention to himself that I knew of, at any rate. Maybe a little law pressure would get him to back down, give me space to come up with a new plan.

  I was grasping at desperate straws, I knew, but they were all I had.

  “So this guy came in, killed Steven, and then just walked away? Why was the wire in your hands?” Dickson had his good cop face back on though it was even less convincing than before.

  I waited a beat for Kate to say I didn’t have to answer that, but I guess she was too busy lawyering to watch the amount of crime shows I had. Instead she looked at me and raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow.

  “I was pulling it out. Trying to help him. He died in my fucking arms and I couldn’t do anything.” I bit down on the inside of my cheek, tasting blood, trying to focus on anger instead of grief. Instead of my failure. “I couldn’t do anything,” I whispered, looking away from everyone, my eyes focused on a paint chip on the blank beige wall.

  “I think that is enough for you to get started, detectives,” Kate said firmly. “My client is exhausted and I’m sure she would like to go home.”

  “She can’t go home,” Balls said. “She’s under arrest.”

  “Did you not hear a thing I’ve said?” Kate pursed her lips, her gaze turning to ice.

  “That’s for the DA to decide, and the judge. Not us. We made the arrest, we can’t just let her walk. She’s got to appear tomorrow.” Dick ran a hand through his thinning hair, completely screwing up his comb-over.

  “I can’t stay here,” I said to Kate. “He’s out there. Who knows what he’s doing to my friends.”

  “It’s snowing so hard you can’t see your shoes. Nobody is gonna be killing anybody tonight, if this guy even exists.” Balls gave a disgusted snort.

  There was more arguing back and forth, but my head started to pound again and I put it down on the table. The metal felt cold and soothing against my skin. It was clear that Kate had planted doubt in the detectives’ minds, but they wouldn’t budge on letting me go. It seemed like they’d hustled their asses down here for the sure collar, but now that things were messier than a girl covered in blood writing up a tidy confession, they wanted to pass that buck off to someone else.

  Me? I just wanted to murder someone for real. Or sleep. I missed Alek. He’d rip right through these walls, stare down these assholes, and get me out. At least, my tired brain had that fantasy. I knew the reality would be different. Besides, part of me was glad he was gone. At least in NOLA he was safe from Samir.

  Unless somehow Samir had tricked him into going there. I sat up, grasping at that thought, worried more than ever.

  “I want my phone call,” I said.

  “Cell tower is out. Landline is screwed, too. Won’t do you any good. Sorry,” Balls said in a way that made it clear he wasn’t sorry at all.

  So that was it then. I was stuck in jail for the night while my friends were out there in a frakking blizzard, with my psycho ex stalking them. I tried to tell myself they were capable, smart people who knew the danger, but it was cold comfort.

  Kate walked me back to the bathroom as the deputy on duty went hunting through the lockers to find me some sweats and a clean shirt. They made her stay in the room with me while I showered, not that I could have fit through the tiny window anyway. What was I going to do? Charge off naked into a blizzard?

  I ignored that I had been about to do something very close to that before Kate showed up, and scrubbed my skin raw. Barely able to stay on my feet but glad for warm clothes and no more blood matting my hair, I stumbled back to my cell and sank down on the thin mattress.

  “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to get you out of here. Even if I have to put Ray into a snowplow and drive him here, all right?” Kate smiled at me. I assumed Ray was the district attorney. Or maybe the Judge. I wasn’t exactly on a first name basis with either.

  “No,” I said, trying not to sound ungrateful but feeling surly and exhausted—and scared. “It isn’t all right. But what choice do I have?”

  “Get some sleep. It’s late. You’ll barely even notice the night going by. I’ll be back soon. Trust me, okay? I’m your lawyer.” Kate smiled, patted my shoulder gently, and then left.

  Dick and Balls must have left, too, because nobody disturbed me. I heard the deputy on duty out there listening to soft Jazz, but he left me alone. The lights were dim, only the one in the hallway on and its glow didn’t quite reach the bed. I pulled the blanket over myself and lay back, my thoughts charging in crazy circles around my brain. Finally I reached for my magic and wove a simple ward around the cell, anchoring it to the corners. It wouldn’t do much except warn me if someone tried to use magic on me or approached, but even that small bit of supernatural protection made me feel very slightly better.

  “Tess,” I whispered, reaching into my mind for her memories.

  She sat on her rock inside a circle of silver, ephemeral and untouched. Another person who was dead and gone. Only her ghost or whatever it was lived on inside me. Who knows? Maybe I was insane.

  Samir was here. My nightmare had come into reality. I needed to think shit though, and now I had all night to do it. Sleep would have to wait.

  “Time to play fact. What do we know or think we know?” Somehow talking to a ghost in my head made things clearer.

  “Samir is still toying with you,” Tess said. “He could have killed you.”

  “You could sound a little less pissy about that,” I muttered.

  “I died so you could have more strength to defeat him.”

  “Point taken. Tell me about time travel. How did I do that? You told me it wasn’t possible.” Thinking about what I’d done pulled up memories of Steve’s double death, but I focused on Tess, on her heart-shaped face and sad eyes. Grief had to wait.

  “It is possible. With enough power, though until you did that, I didn’t think anyone had enough power except perhaps Samir. But it should never be done. It could damage you forever, and it changes the world. You are now living in a different future.”

  “I don’t feel different,” I said. I took a deep breath and rubbed my fingers over my talisman. “But what? Thirty seconds of time travel backward made me feel like I’d been trampled by a Tarrasque. Not looking to repeat that.” Repeat that, get it? Har har.

  Tess wasn’t amused. She paced inside my head.

  “I brought him here,” I said, thinking over everything Samir had said to me. “He knew where I was. I was right about my magic drawing him to me, just wrong about the details. I’ve been wrong about a lot.” It was like Three Feathers all over again. Had I learned nothing?

  And now he was here. He didn’t want Clyde’s heart. Okay, he probably wanted it, but it was, as Tess had said before, a diversion. Something to taunt me about and give me hope that this all could end in anything other than my death and the death of everyone I cared about.

  Max and Alek were both away. Vivian, the local vet and another of my friends was away as well, seeing her mother in Florida. Brie and Ciaran were in Ireland. So all of them were out of Samir’s immediate reach. I hoped.

  If Harper had gotten my message, she, the twins, Junebug, and Rose, would be gathered at the Hen H
ouse, behind my wards. Which might not help them much, but they were all shifters. Not easy to kill. I wanted to send them away, too. Tell everyone to scatter and leave myself as the last target standing, but I knew they wouldn’t go.

  “You might need them,” Tess said, her voice gentle but her memories carrying a hard edge that stung my mind.

  I pushed away those thoughts. I wasn’t going to use them if I didn’t have to. There had to be a way to lure Samir out. This was Wylde. In winter. The town was small, everybody knew everybody. There weren’t a lot of places to hide. I supposed he could have just waltzed in and killed some poor family, taking their house. Damnit. More grim thoughts. Fear and doubt swirled around like a maelstrom and my headache increased. I needed to sleep. I would need strength tomorrow, whatever came.

  I turned and put my back to the wall. Wolf materialized and lay next to the mattress, resting her head up on the thin pillow. I combed my fingers through her silky fur and closed my eyes, praying no dreams would come.

  The dreams that came for me were more like memories. And in my memories, nightmares walked and pain ruled.

  In my memory-slash-nightmare, I stand again in the library in the house on the lake that Samir and I have shared for the last year of my life.

  He’s gone on a trip, the first time he’s left me alone. I’m giddy with the trust but I can’t help snooping around. It isn’t like Bluebeard, the library isn’t off-limits, but he’s said there are texts and things I’m not ready for, magic that could be dangerous to learn until I’m strong enough.

  Wind blows in over Lake Michigan, bringing the promise of winter ice. The house is warm but I shiver anyway. It feels odd to be alone. Isolated out here. The houses nearest ours are empty for the winter, and the phone only works when it wants to. I grow bored of watching The Princess Bride for the twentieth time. I’m going to wear out out the VHS if I’m not careful.

  So library it is. I love the feel of the room, like knowledge is oozing from every polished mahogany shelf. Heavy brass lamps with Tiffany glass line the walls and there are overstuffed leather chairs facing a marble fireplace. And books. Some in cases to protect them, so old that the pages aren’t paper but vellum. I can almost smell the ink.

  There’s one line of shelves that draw me, on the wall farthest from the door. The spines of the books are plain leather, no titles or embossment. Some are stacked in a temperature-controlled case, but there is a row, at least twenty books, that are newer and just resting on the shelf. Journals. I’ve seen Samir writing sometimes at night when he thinks I’m asleep. It’s cute how he nibbles on the tip of his pen, sending covert glances my way with half-slit golden eyes. He keeps a diary. I am glad, it makes him less enigmatic, makes him seem more human. More normal.

  Curiosity killed the cat, I think, but remember that satisfaction brought it back, and reach for one. I almost expect them to be warded, but there’s nothing. A thrill goes through me. I know I shouldn’t look. I’d be pissed if he read mine. I mean, if I kept one, which I don’t.

  Sheepish, I glance around. Still alone. No lightning bolt from the sky has come down on me. This diary looks older and I crack it open. The date reads nineteen-twenty-seven.

  The language is a mix of Latin, Coptic, and Avestan. I’m impressed he knows them. Without my weird talent for languages, there is no way I could read this. I doubt anyone could other than Samir. I wonder exactly how old he is. He told me he was born before Jesus once, but he said it in a joking way, and I’d brushed it off. Suddenly I’m not so sure.

  Curiosity and fascination overrule propriety. I ache to know him better, to learn the things he hints at but won’t say. I’ll beg forgiveness later, if I even tell him. I go over to the chairs and curl up, deciding if I’m in for a penny, I might as well shove all in.

  Six hours and ten journals later, I flee the house in the dark, my heart in my throat and horror filling my soul.

  Because I know one thing, a pattern I read over and over and cannot ignore.

  Samir is a monster. Samir is going to kill me, eat my heart, and take my power.

  The dreams shift. Me running. Getting afraid. Calling him. Demanding an explanation. Unable to tell him how I knew, but hearing the smooth lie in his voice as he tried to soothe me.

  I ran home. Home to Ji-hoon, Sophie, Todd, and Kayla. I doomed them.

  Fire. The building is burning. Odd black crystals are strewn across the floor of the old school. I run down the same hallways I always run down in this nightmare. I’ve dreamed it before. A part of me will always be trapped on this night, trying to reach my family before Samir kills them.

  The stones have magic. I can hear them. They can hear me. There is some kind of device. I hear them talking. They think it will go off when I open the door, taking us all down. Ji-hoon thinks he can reach the door, get it open before I get there. Set off the bomb. I’m screaming at them to wait even as I hear them taking a vote.

  “Live, Jess,” Sophie screams. “Run and live.”

  “We love you,” Ji-hoon says in Korean.

  The world explodes. Ash and tears are all that is left me as the dream fades and I’m still screaming, screaming that I can save them, screaming until all that is left are words and ghosts.

  Sheriff Lee’s voice pulled me from my nightmares and her hand gripping my shoulder yanked me out of the smoke and debris in my head.

  My throat felt raw and my eyes and cheeks were wet. I’d been crying in my sleep. Maybe screaming, too.

  “You were calling out in Korean,” Lee said, staring at me with curious eyes. “Bad dream?”

  The vestiges of the dream still clung to me. Ji-hoon’s voice. Sophie seconding his decision. The bomb going off and the whole world collapsing around me.

  “Something like that,” I said, sitting up. “Is that coffee? What time is it?”

  “Just past eight,” she said, handing me the mug. “I hope you don’t mind, but I went by your place and got you some clothes. I’ve got your phone and wallet also—I figured you might want them once Perkins springs you. They are still plowing out the main road, but court should open at noon.”

  Four more hours.

  “Are the phones working yet?” I asked after taking a sip of the coffee and frying the taste buds off my tongue.

  “Land line is still irregular, but they have the cell tower working.” She set a duffel bag I recognized as mine next to the bed.

  “Can I make a call?” I set down my mug on the floor and then opened the bag. She’d brought me a full change of clothes, right down to underwear. I felt a bit weird about that, since I didn’t know Lee all that well. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what her first name was.

  “Not supposed to, but nobody has to know,” Lee said with a smile. “Want a donut, too? You can change back here; the camera is only on the hallway.”

  “What is your first name?” I asked her. “Or should I just keep calling you sheriff?”

  “Rachel,” she said.

  “Are you in trouble because of me?” I thought back to things that Dick and Balls had said the night before.

  “No, not you. Stupid paper-pushing bullshit. This county has always run a little differently, on account of the special nature of many of our citizens. Some people who shouldn’t have are starting to take notice. It’ll blow over. Always does.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know this situation isn’t helping.”

  “You didn’t kill Steve, did you?” She stared at me evenly, her face unreadable.

  “What? No.”

  “Then this is also not your fault. We’ll find the man who did. You focus on staying safe, all right?”

  She left then, hopefully to go get me a donut and my phone. I gulped down more coffee and did the world’s fastest clothing change. It felt good to be pulling on my own socks, to have a body clean of blood and clothes that smelled only of Tide detergent.

  I was going to focus on staying safe. Sort of. Mostly I wanted the hell out of here so I could track down Samir and do te
rrible things to him. Starting and ending with ripping out his fucking heart. I didn’t say any of that to Rachel as she returned with an Old Fashioned and my cell.

  Hoping that Harper and the crew were at the Henhouse plotting Samir’s doom with brilliant ideas, safe in front of a nice fire, I punched in a number and held my breath. My phone had two tiny bars of reception but Harper picked up on the second ring.

  “Jade? Are you out of jail?” Harper’s voice was the best salve to my ruined nerves.

  “No, not yet. Perky is coming later to get me. I should be out by one or so. Where are you guys? Is everyone okay?”

  “I’m at the college with Ezee and Levi. We got snowed in, but I warned Mom and Junebug. Talked to them about half an hour ago. They are at the Henhouse, but in the spare room in the barn, just in case.”

  So much for my hopeful vision of all my friends together around a roaring fire plotting revenge.

  “Is it true,” Harper said then, her voice getting quieter. “Steve?”

  “Yeah,” I said just as softly, my throat closing up again. “Samir killed him. I tried to stop it, Harper. I did.”

  “I know you did,” she said. “Lee said you were half dead when they brought you in. She was real worried but I figured if you weren’t dead, you weren’t dying, so I called Perky.”

  “That’s because you are the best,” I said. “You should have seen the two jerks I got stuck with. It was like a bad ripoff of The Closer. Perky shut them down hard.”

  We were both silent for a moment, me thinking about Steve and what I would do next, Harper thinking about who knew what.

  Harper broke the silence first. “Alek is on his way back. He was trying to get a seat on stand-by when I called him last night.”

  I felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe I should have tried to call Alek first, but he was supposed to be across the country and safe. Damnit.

  “I haven’t called him yet. I will.” Rachel was giving me the eye from the hallway where she stood pretending not to overhear us. “Look, I am not supposed to have a phone and I don’t want to get the sheriff in trouble. I’ll call you again as soon as I’m out. Get everyone together and stay safe. I don’t know what Samir will do next, but he’ll come after us again. This is going to get worse.”