“I have candles.” She grabbed a pair of tapers she had used once for a romantic dinner back when Steven was still alive, and when she set them on the kitchen table, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might use them someday with Nate.
“Do you have a table cloth?”
“White?”
“Perfect.”
He held the candles aloft, and she spread the cloth over the bare wood. When they’d finished, the setting really did look like they were about to share a romantic evening, not perform some magical ritual.
Nate set the trident between the two candlesticks and opened the book to the page he’d marked with the Tarot card.
“Then what?”
“We read this blessing three times, then hold the trident up in front of us for a few seconds, and cover it with the silk to hold its power until we use it.”
“And that does the trick?”
“That should do it.”
“So how do you use this thing?”
“Like a sword, if we need to fight. It can also block the faery’s influence.”
“So we put it between Josh and the faery?”
He nodded. “But the power doesn’t last long, not without the silk. So it can only be used sparingly.”
She glanced at her watch. “Twenty minutes to mid—”
The doorbell rang, the chime loud and sudden enough to make Rachel jump.
“Expecting someone?” Nate asked.
“No.” Rachel circled to the living room and peered through the slat blinds covering the front bay window. A car was parked behind her Prius, an old Crown Victorian that she’d seen earlier today. “It’s the police chief,” she said.
A shadow flitted along the line of bushes separating her place and Nate’s. A man, several inches taller than Nate, with a chest as wide as a barn. The streetlight glinted off his bare scalp. “And there’s a man out there, too. Big guy. Looks like he’s on his way to your house. He’s not dressed like a cop.”
Nate moved closer, his breath warm on the side of her cheek. “Tim Bradley.”
His voice was low, but the tone behind it made chills rise over Rachel’s arms. “Who?”
“Remember I told you about the new orders we were given at the IPPO?”
“To capture the faery and extract his power?”
“This was the man who gave them.”
“What does he want?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
“I might have destroyed Steven’s research after he died. Didn’t want it to get in the wrong hands. And Agent Bradley? He would be the wrong hands.”
“Does he know about the trident and grimoire?”
“I doubt it. And we can’t let him find them.”
Rachel picked up the book and offered it to Nate. There was one easy answer, one Nate already preferred. “Take them. Get out of here. I can stall for time.”
“Are you kidding? I don’t want you anywhere near that guy.”
“You just promised me you’d save Josh.”
“Listen, if we both leave now, we have a head start. They have no reason to know I’m here, and no reason to think you’ll run.”
“So we run?”
“Exactly.”
“But what about consecrating the trident?”
“Moonlight will have to be ceremonial enough.”
“Will that work?”
“Moonlight is pretty powerful. The important thing is the incantation.” Nate was already gathering the trident and nails, and in seconds they were out the back door and onto the patio.
The night was quiet, and cold slapped Rachel’s cheeks, her breath steaming the air. Nate peered around the corner of the house, nodded, and Rachel took off at a half-run for the gap in the fence, Nate right behind her.
She’d just slipped through when she heard a yell.
“Hey! Stop!”
Nate scrambled through and grasped Rachel’s hand, pulling her to the right, parallel with the neighborhood’s fence line. “We can’t lead him to the school.”
Rachel fell into stride next to him, gripping the grimoire tight to her side, her other hand locked in Nate’s grip. The neighborhood held few hiding places. If a neighbor spotted them, they’d surely call the police. But… she focused on the hulking shadow of forest flanking the other side of the school. “Rossum Park?”
Nate nodded and they accelerated to a sprint.
More voices shouted from behind them, and Rachel channeled all her fear into her legs, racing over the uneven grass. They had to reach the forest, get lost among the trees, ditch the cops and Agent Bradley before midnight struck. If they were too late…
Cold air rasped in and out of her lungs, leaving her throat and jaw aching. Nate pulled ahead of her, and she willed her legs to move faster.
They crested a sharp bank and plunged down the other side, half sliding, half running. Flashlight beams crisscrossed overhead, illuminating the fall canopy, just missing them.
The school parking lot stretched along the bottom of the slope, their shoes smacked against hard asphalt. The forest was close now, and Rachel could see the mouth of the pea gravel path that led to nearby Rossum Park and the nature sanctuary.
Only five feet away, one of the light beams caught them from behind.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.”
Rachel’s heart stuttered. What kind of a cop would shoot them when they were unarmed and running away? Or did the voice belong to Agent Bradley?
They plunged into the forest’s darkness. Gravel crunched under the soles of Rachel’s shoes with each stride.
A hundred feet into the trail, Nate veered to the left, leaving the gravel. Rachel followed, a low branch clawing at her face and arm. Leaves crunched underfoot, slippery on uneven ground. They scrabbled down the slope, skidding and ducking, until they reached the road that ran in front of the school.
“Across,” Nate puffed.
Rachel was totally out of breath now, gasping and wheezing. They dashed across the two-lane road, then down another slope on the other side. The glittering water of Lake Loyal opened in front of them, its edge rimmed by a board walk and tall clumps of cattails and grass.
Nate changed direction again, leading onto the boardwalk, the wood sounding like a drum beneath their feet. About twenty yards before the boardwalk merged with the park’s bicycle trail, Nate stopped.
“Into the water.” He squatted on the edge of the wood, then lowered himself down among the cattails. “Keep your phone and the book dry.”
Rachel plunked into a sitting position then slid in after him. The water came up to her knees, cold enough to make her bones ache. Mud sucked at her Keds.
They slogged deep into the cattails, the drying leaves and moth-eaten heads waving several feet above. Once far enough in that they could no longer see the boardwalk, Nate finally stopped.
For a moment, both of them just breathed. Then he turned to her and extended the trident.
“Take this.”
She did. The scrap of silk came next and two of the three nails. He slid the third into his pocket.
Rachel frowned. “What are you—”
“Shh. Stay low. They shouldn’t be able to spot you here, and there’s no way a police department this small has dogs.”
“Dogs?”
“No dogs. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried about dogs. Where are you going?”
“I’ll keep running, draw them past you. As soon as they pass, get back to land. You have only a few minutes before the stroke of midnight, and you have to consecrate the trident. Just read the passage from the book. Remember? Three times.”
“I remember. But can’t you do it? I’ve never—”
“You’ll be fine. The words don’t have to be exact, you just have to believe in them. Concentrate on Josh. Focus each word on saving Josh.”
She could do that. “What happens if they catch you?”
“They won’t.”
“But if they do?”
<
br /> “I’m too fast. Too smart. I’ll meet you back at the school. Make sure you cover the trident with the silk so it holds its power. We won’t uncover it until we find Josh.”
“I remember.”
“We’re going to get Josh. I’ll be there. I promise.”
Sticks cracked in the direction of the road followed by the sound of voices.
“I have to go.”
“Nate?” It was stupid and risky and they had no time, but she knew if she didn’t and something went wrong, she’d play this over and over in her head for the rest of her life.
“I have to—”
She grabbed his jacket and yanked him toward her, stretching up to plant her lips on his. The kiss was fast, a frantic second in time, but he tasted warm and strong.
“Go,” she said, her lips brushing the prickle of his chin.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Go.”
And he plunged into the cattails as the thud of feet on the boardwalk echoed like approaching thunder.
Chapter Eleven
Nate fought through the cattails, cold water sloshing around his feet and soaking into his shoes. In his imagination, he could still detect the scent of Rachel’s skin, her hair, even above the earthy odor of swamp. Still feel the urgent pressure of her lips on his. Still taste the sweetness of her kiss.
He’d thought about kissing her many times, the caress of their lips long and sensuous, the setting romantic, a soft bed close by. But cold and hurried and up to their knees in muddy water was fine by him.
And if they could evade Bradley and the police, if they could get Josh away from the faery, if he could keep Rachel safe, then maybe they’d get another chance.
He reached the boardwalk, grabbing the side, the tremor of advancing footfalls vibrating through his hands. He prayed the trail he’d cut into the swamp and out wasn’t noticeable in the darkness. But if he worked hard enough to draw their pursuers away, maybe it wouldn’t matter.
Jumping, he swung himself onto the planks then scrambled to his feet and made as much noise as possible running for all he was worth.
Chapter Twelve
Rachel listened to the stampede of feet go by, first Nate, then what she figured were two men, Bradley and an officer, no doubt.
That left only the police chief unaccounted for, unless more officers had arrived.
Rachel checked her watch. Mere minutes left now. She had to reach a place she could set the trident, something akin to the altar-like arrangement Nate had set up in the house.
She could picture the spot.
The police chief hadn’t been the only citizen of Lake Loyal all over the news in the past year. There was also the killer, of course, but the person Rachel had in mind was one of the victims.
She paused a few seconds until the stampede had cleared, then she waded to the boardwalk and climbed on board. Water pooled on the wood and mud squished from her shoes with each step. The night had been cold before. Now it was icy. Her muscles jerked in a shiver, and from the knees down, her legs were numb.
Half way down the boardwalk, just past the point she and Nate had descended to it, the wood planks widened into a sitting area, and in the center of that area was a bench.
Rachel laid the trident on the center of the bench, under the name plate of the deceased to whom it was dedicated, a woman named Kelly Ann Lund who had been found drowned in Lake Loyal. She arranged the nails on either side, checked her watch, and opened the faery book.
Moonlight glinted off the trident’s blade and fell on the pages of the book, forming a golden halo around the words. Rachel took a deep breath, and when the digital read out on her phone changed to midnight, she started to read.
Infinite and eternal light,
Consecrate this magical armament
So that it may banish the shadows of malevolence,
Illuminate and shield its wielder,
And protect… my son.
She repeated the chant three times, then following the instructions, she held the trident aloft, tines pointing to the sky. The metal glowed, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if it had taken on a light of its own, or was merely reflecting the bluish light of the moon.
All she could say was that whatever magic this thing was supposed to have, she hoped it worked.
She covered it with the silk bag. The nails she slipped back into her jacket pockets along with her cell phone. Guided only by the moonlight, she headed up the boardwalk steps to the school.
Instead of taking the circuitous route along the edge of the neighborhood, she cut across the road and headed straight for the building. The still-green blades of grass sparkled in the moonlight and crunched under her cold, soggy Keds. She circled to the wing she’d entered earlier, and just as she rounded the corner, she spotted a figure standing on the asphalt basketball court.
She was dressed in a dark coat, only the blond glow of her hair giving her away. Where the others had pursued, Police Chief Ryker had stayed, waiting for their return. Rachel wasn’t sure how much the chief knew about what was going on or if she believed any of it, but she’d guessed the school was at the center and had laid her trap like a cunning spider.
Rachel ducked behind the cinderblock wall, out of the police chief’s sight. When the chief didn’t move from her spot, Rachel backtracked to the last entrance she’d passed. She scanned the darkness, looking for some sign of Nate.
Had he been delayed? Or worse, caught?
Where was he?
For several minutes, she stood there, listening as hard as she could over the rasp of her own breath, the beat of her pulse in her ears, and ring of Nate’s words in her head.
We’re going to get Josh. I’ll be there. I promise.
Was he cornered? Captured? Killed?
Her legs felt weak, as if they couldn’t hold her weight. She’d already lost Steven. Now would she lose Nate? Would she lose Josh?
Rachel hugged the book tight, gripped the trident until her fingers were sore. She couldn’t fight some crazy faery who manipulated her mind all by herself, could she?
Did she even have a choice?
Rachel reached for the door handle, fumbling with the weight of the book. If she encountered the faery or the force that had pushed her into the toilet, she would never be able to fight back, not holding both book and trident.
She placed the book on the ground. Maybe it would act as a sign, let Nate know she was inside. That is, if Nate was still able to join her.
Trying to wipe those negative thoughts from her mind and replace it with the image of Josh’s smiling brown eyes and tousled hair, she tried the door. Even though the police had checked all the doors earlier today, and they all had been locked as Gertie originally predicted, this one now opened easily under her hand, as if the entity was inviting her inside.
“Hold on, Josh. I’m coming, honey.” Steeling herself against the tremor that claimed her whole body, Rachel entered the school.
Chapter Thirteen
The hall was as it was supposed to be, hooks for coats, empty and still. Rachel moved quickly, scurrying from one classroom to the next, ducking her head inside, sweeping the space with her phone’s light, and calling out for Josh. She heard not a whisper in response, not until she reached Mrs. Edwards’ room, the class Josh had attended the year before.
A mischievous laugh tickled the gloom.
“Josh?” Rachel stepped into the middle of the room, raking aside the darkness with her beam.
When she’d been with the police earlier, the space had resembled a furniture store room. Yet now, the tables were arranged, chairs poised around them. Small cages sat on some tables, long plastic bins on others, and black counter tops rimmed the periphery, making the place look more like her freshman biology classroom than a colorful space for second graders. The place even smelled a little like formaldehyde.
What was going on?
Something moved near her feet. She swung the light downward, just as a toad hopped past
.
First a mouse, now a toad?
Rachel had never been afraid of toads, not even after an obnoxious boy in biology class shoved one in her face in an attempt to scare her. He’d had more luck with the mouse he’d dropped down the back of her shirt.
Shaking away the scrambling sensation along her spine, she tucked the trident in the back waistband of her jeans, like some kind of gangster concealing a gun, and knelt down to take a closer look.
Josh loved toads. He’d collected them in the backyard several times in the past summer. And although she knew it was a stretch, she wanted to believe this one was a sign he was nearby.
One more hop, and she caught it, holding it gently behind the front legs. “So where did you come from?” She scanned the room. Her beam landed on a large aquarium filled with sand, branches, and… toads.
No way had that been there when she’d combed through the school with police. Either Josh had set it up, or it was only in her mind. It looked real enough, so how could she tell?
Rachel wasn’t supposed to uncover the trident, not until she found Josh, but she had to admit, she’d feel better if it was in her hand, ready to deploy. She started to reach for it when something tugged on her arm. She looked down at the toad staring up at her, his black eyes reflecting her light.
Another tug, closer to her wrist this time. She twisted her arm, shining her phone’s beam on the spot, and gasped.
Veins sprouted from the toad’s sides like limbs on a tree, snaked over the heel of her hand, and plunged into her skin, joining with her veins.
“Oh my God!” She released her grip on the creature and tried to shake him free. But the connection was secure.
This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a hallucination. She looked away, tried to clear her mind, then glanced back at her arm.
No change.
“Ahhhhhhh.” She shook hard, and some part of the amphibian ripped free. But when she raised her wrist to scrutinize the portion left, there wasn’t blood. Not a drop. Inside the toad was a dense yellow matter, like the yolk of a boiled egg.
The School: A Supernatural Thriller (Val Ryker Series) Page 5