Rachel shook her head. “Steven didn’t believe in any of that stuff.”
“None of us did at first. We were hired to be skeptics, to investigate.”
“And you found things that were, uh, paranormal?”
“I suspect there are a lot of things out there that we can’t see, that we don’t know exist.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’m sorry. Yes, we found some things we couldn’t entirely explain.”
“What things? Whatever it is that’s in the school?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“You mentioned the book, the one about faeries.”
Of course. Steven’s book. And Gertie’s comments.
But this was nuts. The whole idea was too crazy to believe. “You’re saying a faery has my son?”
“Stories of faeries abducting children have been around for hundreds of years.”
“Yes. Stories. Fairytales.”
“Oh, faeries exist. But they aren’t part of this physical world. Instead, they exist on another level, an etheric level.”
Rachel nodded. “Like auras. Like the energies channeled by Reiki and acupuncture.”
“Yes.”
“Stories.”
“We were able to measure its energy, Rachel. Steven collected quite a bit of evidence.”
“Steven did?”
“He worked with the faery more than I did.”
Rachel closed her eyes for a moment. Her mind felt as if it had been scrambled, as if everything she thought she knew was turned upside down. “So this faery, it was a pet?”
“More like a captive.”
The hard edge to Nate’s voice felt more authentic than the rest of this whole conversation. Rachel looked up at him, trying to read his expression, but other than a slight pinch to the corners of his eyes, his face revealed nothing.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We discovered it in the forest surrounding Devil’s Lake. Steven visited it every day, just to learn about it. It was free then, and I think it was exploring us as much as we were it.”
“But then?”
“Then the IPPO was put under the umbrella of the NSA, and we got a different directive. We were to capture it and figure out how to use its powers for our own ends.” He let out a heavy breath. “We held it for two days, Steven did, and every second was horrible.”
“Horrible? How?”
“The fay folk aren’t all like those cute pixies you see in Disney cartoons. They can read your thoughts and feelings as clearly as you and I can see each other in the physical world. And they can use them against you.”
Rachel could feel those hands on her, pushing her toward the toilet bowl. “When I was a freshman in high school, there was a group of older girls who bullied me whenever they could.”
Nate watched her, silent for a moment, then sat on the couch beside her. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely louder than a whisper. “They shoved your head in the toilet, didn’t they?”
“That’s what I was thinking about, when I entered that girl’s bathroom, when I heard the sound of a girl crying the way I cried that day.”
Nate nodded slowly. “When every parent brings their kids to school, they also bring memories of their own schooling. Good or bad.”
“Why didn’t it read the cops’ memories? Make them see and feel things?”
Nate reached for her hand then pulled back, balling his fingers into a fist on his thigh. “It might not have cared about them.”
“And it cared about Josh and…” Rachel’s throat felt tight. “It’s because of Steven, isn’t it?”
“I got his call when he was already on the bluffs overlooking Devil’s Lake.” This time when Nate reached for her hand, he took it, enfolding her fingers in his. “That was when I found out he’d released the faery that afternoon.”
It was a question that Rachel had never been able to answer, and yet it had shaped the last two years of her life, of Josh’s life. “Why did he go up on those rocks at night?”
“He was convinced you and Josh were up there, that you were in trouble, lost, and needed his help.”
“That we…” Rachel’s throat closed, cutting off her words.
“I told him to wait, that I’d help. But…” Nate shook his head. “If I would have been there, maybe we could have kept each other grounded in reality. Maybe I could have kept him from going over that cliff.”
Quiet hung in the room, no sound but the soft purr of Oberon giving himself a bath.
Rachel stared down at their entwined fingers. Before Steven died, she’d been so careful to keep her hands moisturized and manicured. She’d wanted them soft to his touch, wanted to be at her best for her husband.
Now her skin was dry, her nails ragged and chipped, and yet Nate didn’t seem to care. His fingers wrapped around hers, squeezing just a little too hard, as if right then he needed her as much as she needed him.
“That’s why I bought this place the next day. I wasn’t there for Steven. But I swore I’d protect you and Josh. When nothing happened for so long, not even a blip on my energy meters, I figured the faery moved on. At least I hoped it had. I was wrong.” He rubbed his palms up her forearms then down, as if trying to warm her. “But I’ll figure something out. We’ll get Josh back. I promise you that.”
Rachel had lived alone most of her adult life, before marriage, then after her husband’s death. She’d always been self-sufficient, the person who took care of others, the one who always had more to give. But tonight, she was wrung out and terrified she’d lose her son. Nate, with his warm hands and strong words, was throwing her a lifeline.
She wasn’t sure she believed all this talk of faeries. Hallucinations could be caused by a lot of things. Mold in the school. A brain tumor. A drug. Who knew? But she didn’t have to believe in magic. She believed in something more tangible.
Nate.
That he cared about Josh, that he would help her find him, that he would pull out all the stops to get her son back. And she was going to grab that belief and hold on for all she was worth. Even if it meant suspending her understanding of reality for a little while.
“I have the faery book, Nate. It’s in my kitchen.”
Chapter Eight
The last thing Nate wanted to do was release Rachel’s hands, but they had little time to lose. “Show me.”
The floor plan of Rachel’s townhouse was a mirror image of his, but it still surprised him every time he’d stepped inside. Her style was simple, Spartan even, but every surface seemed to be covered with plants. Cascading vines, delicate orchids, even miniature trees. The air smelled loamy and fresh.
The book lay on the kitchen counter next to a battered cardboard box. Nate traced a finger over the cover. The volume was leather bound and tooled with an intricate picture of the intertwining branches of a tree. As the limbs twisted upward to the sky, they formed a woman’s face surrounded by a halo of thorny vines. Other faces dotted the book, too, each harder to pick out than the last, each looking both beautiful and otherworldly.
“With this grimoire, I should be able to get Josh out in no time.”
“Grimoire?”
“It’s like a text book of magic,” Nate explained. “Or maybe more accurately, a recipe book.”
“I thought it was a simple children’s book. Josh found it in the basement the day after Steven died. It was in this box along with a few other things.” She reached into the container, pulled out a card, and handed it to him.
Larger than a regular playing card, it was embossed on one side with similar twisting branches, thorns, and vines. On the other, it held a drawing of a man wearing a red cape over white robes that were cinched with a snake belt. One of his hands held a wand high above his head. The other pointed to the lilies and roses burgeoning around his feet. In front of him was a table, set with a cup, a sword, what looked like a walking stick, and a pentacle. The sideways figure eight of infinity hover
ed above his head.
“There aren’t any other Tarot cards in here, just this one.”
“It’s The Magician,” Nate said. “Generally considered a sign of skill and of transforming ideas into actions in the real world.”
“What is it for?”
Nate tucked it between the first pages in the grimoire. “An enhancement? A good luck charm? Not sure. But if Steven had it with these other things, my guess is that he was trying to channel it, to be the magician.”
“To transform ideas into actions in the real world?”
“Exactly.”
Next she pulled a handful of fat nails from the box. “I know what these are for. Gertie warned me to take some with me when I went looking for Josh.”
“Iron. Supposedly repels the fay folk.”
She tilted the box toward her and reached for the next item. “And this I can’t quite figure out. I thought he might be making this for Josh or a Halloween costume, but the points are actually quite sharp.”
She pulled out a fork-shaped device. It was made of tin cut in a simple design. Three triangular teeth formed the tines. The flat side was bolted to a black wooden dowel, and letters and shapes were drawn on both metal and handle. The entire device was around a foot long and eight inches wide.
“To me it looks like a devil’s fork from a kid’s drawing,” she said. “Do you know what it is?”
Nate gave her a smile. “It’s the Trident of Paracelsus. At one time it was considered one of the most important tools in Western Magic. It was supposed to do everything from cure impotence and venereal disease to bar the passage of ethereal beings.”
She handed him the trident. “Whatever works, I guess.”
Nate tested the weight in his hand. Surprisingly heavy for something made from light materials. “Is that it?”
Rachel pulled out a sloppily sewn bag made of fabric that looked like silk. “There’s this. Looks about the right size to fit over the trident.”
“Perfect.” Nate took the silk bag, then paged through the book until he found what he needed and used the Magician card to mark the page.
“What comes next?”
“I consecrate the trident precisely at the stroke of midnight, cover it with the silk to preserve its power, and go get Josh.”
“I’m going too, Nate.”
He was afraid she’d say that. “The faery isn’t just after Josh, Rachel. It’s also after you.”
“Believe me, I remember. But you said yourself that if both you and Steven were at Devil’s Lake that night, you might have been able to ground each other in reality. Even if the faery is focusing on Josh and me, I doubt that will stop it from messing with your mind.”
What she said made sense. How could it not? Hadn’t he been over and over the night Steven died? Hadn’t he come to that same conclusion? Then why did this feel different?
“Then it’s settled. We’ll go in together.”
“Rachel, I can’t let you.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“I know. I just…” He fitted the silk bag over the trident’s blade, as if in the time that simple action bought him, he’d come up with some sort of argument, some way to protect her.
as much as he told himself that it was his duty to keep his friend’s family safe, that it was all about his promise to Steven, he knew it wasn’t that simple. The past two years, he hadn’t been able to tell Rachel the truth about her husband, about him. Now she knew almost all of it, and in telling her, he felt both lighter and more burdened than ever before.
Because now he could imagine a future with Rachel and Josh, and she was asking him to risk it all.
“He’s my son, Nate. I can’t lose him.”
Nate’s throat felt dry. “And I can’t lose you.”
Chapter Nine
“Aunt Val?”
Val started at the tremor of fear underlying her niece’s voice. She pushed herself out of her chair at the kitchen table and crossed into the living room. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Grace stood at the front window, staring out into the darkness. “There’s a car coming up the driveway.”
“A police car?”
“No. Just a car.” She stepped back from the glass, moving out of the driver’s view. “What do you think they want?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing big. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
Grace had been recovering well since her ordeal with killer Dixon Hess, but at only seventeen years old, she was still fragile. Seeing her fear made Val wish she would have killed the psychopath instead of merely putting him in the hospital and now in jail awaiting trial.
Most likely this had nothing to do with Dixon Hess. In a small town, Val had learned long ago that the police chief’s life and privacy belonged to the village. Whether a dog was lost or someone’s cell phone had been stolen, citizens didn’t hesitate to pay a personal visit to enlist her help, whether she was on her own time or not.
The car pulled up outside the kitchen door, parking behind Val’s village-provided, seen-better-days Crown Vic.
A man climbed out of the driver’s seat, and Val met him outside to save Grace the worry of whatever problem needed Val’s attention. The man was tall and muscled, and the porch light reflected off his smooth-shaved head. She’d peg him to be in his fifties, and he had the thrown-back-shoulder bearing of a man in charge, possibly a cop. Out of habit, Val focused on his hands, his fingers opening and closing at his sides.
“Chief Ryker?”
“Yes?”
He flashed one of the most insincere smiles Val had ever seen. His expression wasn’t cruel or chilling or scary, just false. As if underneath, he was feeling nothing particular at all. He thrust out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. After all the press coverage, I feel like I can now brag about being friends with a celebrity.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I hope you don’t mind me tracking down your home address instead of going through the station, but this matter is urgent.”
“And you are?”
“Tim Bradley of the IPPO.”
Val took his offered hand and gave it a firm shake. “What can I do for you, Mr. Bradley?”
“Agent Bradley. And I was told you contacted my agency earlier today about a man named Nathan Wells?”
“I did. And your agency wasn’t very helpful.”
“These things are sensitive.”
“I’m sensitive about a missing child.”
“There’s no time for that, chief. This is bigger than one child. I need you to tell me why you were asking about Nathan Wells.”
Val had always been a big believer in letting people talk. If allowed to keep flapping their gums, sooner or later, most revealed exactly who they were. With Agent Bradley, it ended up being sooner. “Bigger than one child?”
“You know what I meant. This is a case of public safety. Now tell me where I can find Mr. Wells.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I don’t think you’re understanding me. I’m a federal agent, and this man stole something from our agency.”
“This man is also a citizen of the village. It’s my job to protect him, and you haven’t shown me any kind of warrant or probable cause or, frankly, anything.”
“You shouldn’t be concerned with protecting him. You should worry about the rest of your town if I don’t apprehend him.”
“Apprehend him? On what charge?”
“Fine. Question him. Certainly you don’t have a problem with that.”
Val watched, waited, letting the silence hang between them, but this time Bradley held his tongue.
She glanced back at the house, then gave an everything-is-okay wave to the silhouette of Grace watching from her second floor bedroom window. “I’ll take you to him, Agent Bradley, as long as you don’t have a problem with me and an officer of mine doing a little questioning of our own.”
Bradley shrugged a shoulder. “No problem at all, as long as you unders
tand this man and the research he stole, are very, very dangerous.”
Chapter Ten
“Losing…me?” Rachel echoed. She leaned back, bracing herself on the kitchen counter behind her. A jitter seated itself under her rib cage. Even with all the times she’d thought about Nate, how often he stopped by, how special he made her feel, how much she liked him, his pronouncement surprised her.
She didn’t know if she was ready to put her heart on the line like that yet. Didn’t know if she ever would be again.
Nate watched her, his dark eyes pinched at the edges. “Is that so bad, Rachel? That I don’t want to lose you?”
“Bad? No.”
“Then why do you look so… stricken?” He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them.
Rachel shook her head. “Let’s make sure all three of us come out safe. Okay?”
“Okay.” Nate smoothed her hair back from her eyes with gentle fingers. He was close enough she could feel his heat, close enough to kiss her, and yet he didn’t move.
Rachel couldn’t think about this now. Not until Josh was safe, and then… even then she wasn’t sure. “I want you to promise me something.”
He tilted his head in a nod.
“I want you to give me your word that whatever happens, you’ll save Josh.”
“I understand.”
“No matter what.”
“I promise.”
Swallowing into a dry throat, she stepped back, away from his heat and his gentle touch. Once Steven had been her life, him and her job at the senior center. And everything had been simple and easy. But there had been something missing for her. Something more that she felt she could give. Then Josh had been born, and the moment she first saw his purplish little scrunched up face, she knew no one would need her as much as her son did.
“We have to consecrate the trident precisely at midnight.”
Rachel pulled her mind from her reverie and focused on Nate’s words, on what needed to be done. “And how do we do that?”
Nate tapped the cover of the faery guide. “The step-by-step is in here. We read a blessing three times. It’s best if we have some candles and incense to burn, make it into a ritual.”
The School: A Supernatural Thriller (Val Ryker Series) Page 4