Spectrum of Magic Complete Series - Spell Breaker - Fate Shifter - Cursed Stone - Magic Unborn - Libra

by D. N. Leo

  “Yes?” Orla said.

  “I’m looking for Lorcan Brody.” The woman spoke in a half-American, half-Australian accent, with a very slight hint of Spanish.

  Orla arched an eyebrow. This was her apartment. No one knew Lorcan stayed here with her. He still rented his apartment. “Who are you?”

  “Mya Portman.”

  “I don’t recognize your name.”

  Mya smiled. “Lorcan doesn’t know me. I’m not a secret admirer, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Orla stepped forward and stared into the woman’s eyes. Big dark brown eyes with a gold rim around the irises. She knew these eyes. “You didn’t say I don’t know you. You’re looking for Lorcan in my apartment. No one knows he’s here. Who are you?”

  A gracious smile crossed Mya’s face. “You will not like me. I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t urgent. Whatever you asked Lorcan to do, don’t. It will kill him. I can help, but only to a certain extent.”

  Mya nodded a goodbye and turned on her heel.

  “Hey!” Orla grabbed Mya’s elbow. As she did so, a wave of energy shot through Orla, sending her backward.

  “I did say you wouldn’t like me. If you care for Lorcan, and I know you do, pack up and go back to Ireland.”

  Orla waved her arms in the air. “Is this some kind of practical joke? I didn’t make him do anything. Hell, I kicked him out of my apartment the other night.”

  “Did you? Not the kicking, but the intention?” Mya cocked an eyebrow in challenge.

  “I . . .”

  “You have no intention to let him go.” Mya smirked.

  “What do you mean?” Orla shrieked out the words.

  “I know your kind. The Foleys. You don’t let go of anything or anyone.”

  It had been a long time since anyone had spoken her last name. Orla felt as if she was going to implode. She wouldn’t allow that. “Get out,” Orla growled.

  “I’m not in your apartment.” Mya stood still at the doorframe and stared in challenge. “Your kind doesn’t know what love is. You’re lucky I am not in charge of your case. Otherwise, I swear in the name of Ishtar, I’d destroy you and all your generations.”

  Orla charged back into her apartment and grabbed the knife from the fruit plate on the coffee table. “Get out of here. Get out of my life.” She pointed the knife at Mya.

  “I come and go as I please. There is nothing you can do to me.”

  “Don’t underestimate me.”

  “Oh no. I’d never underestimate your family.” She fixed her scarf and continued. “If by any chance you actually love Lorcan, let him go.”

  “I’m not keeping him here. He chooses to stay with me.”

  Mya sneered. “Naturally.”

  Orla squealed and charged at Mya.

  Lorcan exited the elevator just then and saw Orla. He darted toward her and grabbed the hand holding the knife. “Easy, easy Orla.” He turned toward Mya and said, “Go.”

  “Be careful, Lorcan,” Mya said.

  Orla screamed. “Get out, bitch. I’ll kill you.” She tried to break free of Lorcan to charge at Mya.

  “I’m Mya Portman. I’m here to protect you,” Mya said to Lorcan.

  “Are you nuts? Go. She’s stronger than you think,” Lorcan shouted, trying to hang on to Orla.

  Mya turned on her heel and left.

  Lorcan pushed Orla into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind them and holding Orla until she stopped screaming. The strong smell of jasmine filled the air in the room. Orla charged toward the bathroom and was violently ill.

  Lorcan waited patiently in the living room. When Orla had finished in the bathroom, he handed her a mug of hot tea. When she finished, he pulled her in to his arms and cradled her on the sofa. She snuggled into his side for a while.

  “Can you tell me what was going on between you and that woman?”

  “I want you off this job, Lorcan. I’ll do it myself.”

  “Orla . . .”

  Images of the room because blurry in front of her. “Damn it, Lorcan. What’s in the tea?”

  “Something Riley gave me. I’m sure it has no side effects . . .” and then Lorcan was saying something else but Orla no longer heard him.

  Chapter 11

  In the morning, Orla surfaced. She stirred and muffled into his chest, asking for coffee. He obliged, then sat on a chair waiting for the caffeine to jolt her system.

  “You were wrong about the dinner date,” Lorcan said.

  “Huh?”

  “Madeline took her backpack with her. We got her conversation with Ciaran LeBlanc along with some interesting activities.”

  Orla’s eyebrows arched up, and the memory came back to her. “You drugged me!”

  “Drugged is a strong word. I only meant to soothe your nerves. You took it like a drug because you’ve been overtaxing your system.”

  “You drugged me,” she repeated and whacked him with a pillow.

  Lorcan raised him arms up. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. But you missed out on quite a bit while you were asleep.”

  “What?”

  “You were wrong about the dinner date,” Lorcan repeated. “Madeline took her backpack with her, and I heard the whole conversation she had with Ciaran. The bottom line is that Madeline lied about her reason for looking for White Knight as per Zen’s instruction. She said someone in the LeBlanc’s headquarters had used the company’s computer to hack Jo’s game. That alarmed Ciaran enough to take her to their headquarters and scan their entire system. It turned out that no one had used a computer within the LeBlanc’s headquarters to play any game. So Madeline came home empty-handed last night—or this morning at two a.m. to be precise.”

  “They did all that while I slept?”

  “Yep. The recording is backed up to the computer. You can listen to it if you want. No point, though, as there is no White Knight in LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals.”

  Lorcan continued, “We’ll wait and see what she does this morning. Zen will check in soon. But before we deal with that, can I ask about what happened when I was out yesterday? Who was that woman? Why did you want to kill her?”

  Orla took a tentative sip of her coffee and looked at Lorcan. “I want you out of this job . . .”

  The sound of Madeline’s phone ringing made Lorcan bolt at the computer. Orla and Lorcan hunched over the speaker as if they could give Madeline extra help by doing so. Madeline let the phone ring ten times before she picked up.

  “What’s with the new phone number?” Zen asked.

  “Dropped and broke the other one. Put the video on, I want to see Jo.”

  “I expect some good news, Maddieeee,” Zen demanded, dragging out his pronunciation of Madeline’s name.

  There was a wall of silence.

  “Samuel Kandinsky, that’s the name.”

  Lorcan arched an eyebrow. He typed on his laptop and turned the monitor toward Orla. The Google search results showed a series of Kandinsky’s paintings. Then he did another search and pulled out pictures from a real estate rental website, showing Madeline’s apartment. He pointed at a picture. On the wall of Madeline’s apartment was a Kandinsky painting.

  “Give me his contact details,” Zen demanded.

  “That wasn’t the deal, Zen. The name is all I’ve got. Getting that name out of the LeBlanc headquarters was hard enough. I’ve seen the guy, so I can lure him out as we agreed. But he didn’t exactly hand me his CV and personal information.”

  “You were inside the LeBlanc headquarters?”

  “Impressive, isn’t it? I spoke to Ciaran LeBlanc myself. I’m sure Samuel is your guy. He’s probably out of a job by now. So do you want me to talk to the guy, or do you want to do it yourself?”

  “No, no, I’ll take care of it.”

  “When will you let Jo go? Because as far as I’m concerned, my task is finished.”

  “No, there’s a step two, remember?”

  “The last one?”

  “Yes,
sure. And this one’s easy. An alchemist named John Dee died in the 1500s and is buried in Mortlake. Go there and get me an artifact that was buried with him. It’s only an hour or so outside of London. Piece of cake. The guy died a long time ago. Nobody will pay any attention to what you’re doing.”

  A long pause.

  “Say again?” Madeline asked.

  Zen huffed out a breath. “John Dee was . . .”

  “I heard you. You want me to dig up the grave of some dead alchemist?”

  “Well, it’s not exactly tomb raider or anything like that. You only need a shovel.”

  “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

  “I could, but it wouldn’t be very efficient. I have to get Jo there, to London, and negotiate with White Knight. Once he agrees, then the artifact has to be available for him. You see, I can’t be in two places at the same time!”

  “Alchemists were those who squeezed gold out of steel, right? If you’re after gold, wouldn’t it be easier to just rob a bank or jewelry store?”

  “Just like many other ordinary people, you’re very short-sighted, Maddie. Get me the artifact, and then we’ll talk. I might even give you some gold dust if I’m feeling generous!”

  “Yeah, right, what’s the artifact? And when will you need it?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it. I don’t know exactly what it is. It has to be something of importance to John Dee. I’ll need it within twenty-four hours.”

  “You’ve . . .”

  “No, I’m not kidding. We’ll be there in twenty-four hours. I need you to get the artifact and locate White Knight for me.”

  A short pause.

  “The timing is very critical. If you mess this up, I’ll have no mercy for you and your little friend here.”

  “Jo can’t travel long distances without her meds. If you paid any attention at all and stopped drugging her, she’d tell you that she’s diabetic and is probably overdue for her doses right now.”

  “All right, I’ll get her the meds. Do you know where she gets them?”

  “Ask her yourself. If memory serves, its somewhere in Midtown, between Park and Madison . . . I can dig up an old grave. I’m sure the dead won’t mind. I can dig a new one for you, too, and I would bury you with pleasure.”

  “See you soon.” Zen grumbled and hung up.

  Orla shook her head. “She lied to a monster. Trouble.”

  “She lied last night to Ciaran.”

  “It was a white lie. What choice did she have?”

  Lorcan glared at her. “So it’s okay to lie. Is that what you’re saying?”

  The sound of Madeline’s sniffling came over the speaker. Madeline was making a call. Orla and Lorcan listened. This time they couldn’t hear the dialog from the other end of the line.

  “You’re sleeping at this hour, Stephen?” Madeline said. “London. Listen, I need your help . . .” A pause. “Really, Stephen? You don’t even need to want to know what I’m asking you to do?” Another hesitation as she listened. “You know Zen, Jo’s boss, right? This sounds weird, but it’s serious, so please, bear with me. Zen kidnapped Jo because of some interactive role-play game Jo developed. He wanted me to be in London to find the guy who played a character in Jo’s game. Zen has beaten Jo and has threatened to rape her if I can’t find the guy in London.” Long pause. “Stephen, I’m telling you now, . . . “Perfect. Thank you, Stephen. Thanks so much.” . . . “I should have called you earlier.” . . . “No, not exactly. So if Zen comes here to see me, I’ll be in trouble.”

  The recording finished, Lorcan turned the speaker off. “Now, you were saying you want me off this job?”

  Orla nodded.

  “Well, it’s obviously Madeline was taking the case to the next level, bluffing the criminal and all of that jazz. She also called for help from Stephen—whoever that was. I assume everything will fall into place for her, but if you want to see this case through, you still have to see if Stephen can help.”

  Orla nodded.

  “Can you set up the listening device?” Lorcan stepped aside and gestured at the computer.

  Orla stared at him. “You know damn well I can’t handle your technology. I will do it the old-fashioned way.”

  “Ah hah. Right. So you’ll be staking Madeline physically and might end up facing Zen when he comes to London. Which is fine. You’re a good fighter. Now, I’m not in the case, but I’ll have to follow you around because you’re my girlfriend, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Does that sound reasonable?”

  “Lorcan!”

  “I won’t get involved at all. If Madeline falls dead in front of me, I won’t move a muscle. I just want to keep an eye on you.”

  “Lorcan!” She slapped at his chest.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “No. That’s a no. You’re going nowhere with me.”

  “Okay, how about we meet halfway? It seems that Madeline might be able to handle the case herself. Ciaran seems like a decent guy, so he might help her. The conversation they had last night suggested that Ciaran won’t be in the country today. So how about we follow Madeline today to make sure that she’s okay? When she gets back to Ciaran, I’ll let you decide what you want to do next. I won’t get in your way.”

  Orla cursed on the inside. When Lorcan talked logic, she lost most of the time. She would have to find another opportunity to drop him out of this job.

  “Come on.” Lorcan tugged at her arms.

  Orla nodded. “All right, she’s going to Mortlake now. We’d better get moving.”

  “How do you know?”

  Orla shrugged. “Just a hunch.” She went to the bedroom to get her handbag.

  Lorcan went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He sniffed around. There was strange smell in the kitchen—jasmine. Jasmine was supposed to be a pleasant scent, but this was not.

  Then the smell vanished.

  Lorcan looked at the coffee machine. He’d bought some caramel-flavored coffee the week before. It might be causing the smell. He pulled out the bin on the coffee machine and emptied it. When he slid it back in, a sharp lever cut his fingers. He swore and sucked at the blood drop forming from the cut. He rubbed his hand on the sharp lever, making a mental note that he had to fix it before it cut Orla. Then he returned to the living room and gave it no further thought.

  Chapter 12

  Riley packed up the sandwich and put it into Noah’s lunch box. He had made his son a tuna and cucumber sandwich today; Noah’s favourite. More importantly, it was Michelle’s favorite, too. Riley shook his head to force the memory out of his mind. The pain was raw as if it had happened yesterday. They had shoved Noah into his arms and declared his wife dead. It sounded cruel to laypeople, but in his medical discipline, he saw it every day. It was his job to deal with life-and-death matters, the well-being of others. But when it came to his family, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t help Michelle then, and he couldn’t help Noah now. He wondered sometimes what use his medical skills and knowledge were.

  He missed her so much, it hurt. Riley looked at the picture of Michelle and him smiling at a picnic. He didn’t realize a tear had rolled down his face.

  He felt a tug at the hem of his trousers. He looked down and saw the kitten, blinking its bright green eyes at him. Crouching down, he said, “The tuna sandwich is for Noah. You’ll have your cat food.” He saw the excitement drain from the cat’s face. He picked it up and put it on the kitchen bench. “Lorcan told me you dislike the name Edward. I think he made it up, but . . .” Riley trailed off when he saw the cat’s ears droop. “I like Edward for a cat.” Then the cat’s eyes drooped.

  Riley shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, I won’t call you Edward.”

  The cat’s ears stood back up.

  Riley narrowed his eyes at the cat. “Don’t you start speaking. ‘Cause if you do, I’m going to freak out.” He swore on his dead wife he saw the cat grin at him, but he let the thought pass because it started to weird him out.

  Someone kno
cked on the door. Riley answered and found a woman in her fifties with white hair and a kind face looking at him with a gentle smile and mysterious eyes.

  “Riley Perkins?”

  “Yes. Do I know you?”

  “No. But I do know you. Orla sent me.”

  Riley frowned. “For what?”

  “For Noah.”

  “Oh, you’re the psychic. Right. Ah . . .”

  “May I come in?”

  “Listen, I’m not quite sure about that. We’re on our way out soon. I need to take Noah to school, and we’re running late. Can we do this some other time?”

  “May I come in?” the woman insisted.

  “No. I mean yes. Sure. Come on in. But Noah just ran to the corner store to get some milk. We’ll be on the road soon. I’ve have already said that, haven’t I?” Riley mumbled and followed the woman inside the house as if he were the guest.

  “She liked tuna and cucumber sandwich, didn’t she?” The woman smiled again.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You wife, Michelle, she told me she liked the sandwiches. She knows you didn’t, but you pretended that you liked them just to please her.”

  “Oh no, don’t play that trick on me, lady. I think you’d better leave now. I’m not a believer.”

  The woman smiled. She approached Riley. He staggered back. “She said she misses you. She misses the times you took her to the Lake Districts. She visits your secret spot all the time. But you haven’t been there for a while. The three stones are still there, carved with your initials and buried under the oak tree. Do you remember that?”

  Riley leaned against the wall, grabbing his pounding head. He felt like it was going to explode in a moment. Then he heard Michelle’s soothing voice. “You haven’t been there for a while, Riley. I miss you.” Riley looked up to see his wife standing in the middle of the room in her favorite summer dress, smiling at him.