Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  Silas was heading up the steps, and by the looks of it, the dutiful house steward had come straight from Tanner’s room. My eyes zeroed in on the fancy sliver tray as he passed — in particular, the pristine state of the items it held. Tanner hadn’t touched a thing, not a bite of his meal nor taken the first sip of his beverage. He didn’t even eat his dessert, and that sweet-tooth of his never passed one up. And it was tiramisu, one of his favorites.

  “Silas,” I called.

  The house steward pressed the toe of his shoe against the marble tile and pivoted around with a squeak. “Yes, Ms. Wallace?” he cooed.

  “Did you tell Tanner I didn’t know Ty was coming?” I asked, needing some clarification. “And that he came by himself . . . in a taxi?”

  “No. He never asked,” Silas replied. “I didn’t think it was pertinent information.” He arched his brow curiously. “Do you think it was something he needed to know?”

  Of course it was, I raged silently. Tanner had wanted me to brainwash Ty months ago. Truth be told, he preferred no one knowing my identity, Katie included.

  I charged towards the doorway, hell-bent on having it out with him eye-to-eye in the foyer, only for my face to smack straight into the containment spell like I’d hit a cinder block wall. I pulled back, pressing my hands against the sides of my throbbing nose. The vibe I sensed radiating from the spell seemed much stronger. My hands pressed against the glistening essence like I was feeling a mystical sheet of Plexiglas. No matter how hard I tried pushing, I couldn’t get back through.

  I pounded on the barrier, taken aback. “What’s this?” I demanded.

  “Humph . . . It would seem the barrier has been strengthened,” Silas replied. He placed the tray on a nearby chest and returned to the doorway, eyes scrutinizing the spell with a curious sweep. Silas extended his arms through the wards without the slightest hitch, several times in fact. I grabbed his hand as he was pulling it back, only to lose my grip when the reinforced containment spell wouldn’t let mine pass along with it.

  Silas collected the tray and then turned back my way, sporting a particularly amused grin. “Well played, Ms. Wallace,” the house steward purred.

  I almost gave my sockets a quick reality-rub just to be certain my eyes weren’t playing any tricks on me. “T—Thank you, Silas,” I mumbled, still stunned by what the boosted doorway hinted and even more by the frankness of his compliment. I would have never figured him to turn Team-Shiloh for a second, but he had…for some reason. Seeing the satisfaction in his strut as he headed off just confirmed it. And I’ll be damned if the rankling old coot hadn’t put a smile on my face for the second time this summer. I only hoped this one stuck around longer than the last time. Shame on me if it turned out that I’d been suckered by him again.

  CHAPTER 18

  As I’d predicted, the extra enchantment Tanner had placed on the doorway faded precisely at the crack of dawn. Of course checking the time on my watch was of no consequence, seeing how I’d been waiting the damn thing out for the past forty minutes. If I finger-flicked that thing once, I flicked it a thousand freaking times. I was just that determined to beat his sneaky butt up to breakfast and raring to start the day. And well-rested, I might add. I never stepped the first inch inside The Darklands all night, which in my book proved that even the diamond knew I had bigger fish to fry.

  Ty was already up, dressed, and sitting to the left of my usual spot at the South Pole. Yes siree… All the leaves were back in their customary places, though the reason was up in the air after noticing the fussy buffet-sized spread gracing its surface. One thing about the meticulous house steward could never be denied: he never shirked any of his domestic duties, nor veered from his showy conventions. Not only had the male Martha Stewart outdone himself this morning, but his choice of menus couldn’t have been more fitting for our guest — authentic southern comfort-food at its finest. Biscuits and gravy… A medley of select sausages, both patties and links… Between those, the hearty strips of bacon and thick slices of country ham, more than one little piggy had offered up its neck for this feast, rest assured. Fluffy yellow eggs were piled in a sterling silver bowl, scrambled to perfection. A tray sat in the middle of the table, stacked with both pancakes and waffles. Funny… I’d never scored both. Rounding out the mouthwatering buffet was a casserole dish of crispy cheese-drenched hash browns, a basket of blueberry muffins, and if that wasn’t enough to choke a Clydesdale, a steamy trough of buttery grits warming in a sterling silver chafing dish was the pièce de résistance that topped it all off.

  I didn’t even know Mr. Fancy-Pants knew what a daggone grit was. Humph… Now I really felt slighted.

  Ty forced a hard swallow. “I can’t believe you don’t weigh a ton eating like this every day,” he announced and then took a swig of his orange juice, making sure his hefty deposit stayed down.

  I pulled out my chair at the foot of the table. “Oh, I’ve been workin’ it off,” I vowed.

  Ty glanced at my arms. “Yeah, I noticed you’re lookin’ more buff,” he stressed.

  I automatically shied my arms into a fold and lowered my head. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so awkward if my newfound muscles actually packed as much of a punch? All show and not much go.

  “Hey,” Ty said, signaling my attention. “Something wrong?”

  “Be honest — Do I look too butch?” I asked.

  “Butch?” Ty laughed. “No. I think you look good.”

  His sly grin eased my insecurities. And I may have fudged on my principles a smidge with a quick dip inside his head. He wasn’t lying…to my relief.

  A stormy stream of swiftly approaching footsteps alerted our ears. Tanner rocked to a jerky stop in the doorway no sooner than we’d turned our heads. His stance straightened like the snap of a rubber band once he realized I’d beaten his spell-casting hide in here. That served to slow the hotfooted Talisman down to a more casual amble as he made his way to his chair. Aside from his initial thwarted glare, the Lord of the Manor’s only response was to flash a taut smile aimed towards our end of the table as he whipped open his napkin.

  Yep… I’d call that a bit of a pout.

  “How did you sleep?” Tanner asked, his eyes directed only at Ty.

  “Great,” Ty raved. “I don’t think I moved a muscle all night.” Ty tilted his head, looking reflective. “In fact, I’ve never slept harder or sounder in my life.”

  Suspicion furrowed my brow when I caught the hint of a crafty gleam in the Amethyst Talisman’s eyes. I lowered my head to hide my curious expression. I was betting Ty’s “good night’s sleep” was a result of the same conjuring-coincidence that had beefed up the household wards.

  A magical mickey, perhaps? Discreetly, I directed the tiniest stream of air to catch Ty’s breath and then guided it under my nose. Despite the noticeable aroma of grease and maple syrup it packed, the cinnamon undertones I detected drew my lips into a doubtless pucker on the spot.

  Embervale, I surmised, feeling as raw as all get-out. I was seriously going to have to hold off on any thoughts of breakfast until that damning revelation had fully digested. First the wards and now THIS? What the heck did he think was going to happen here last night?

  Silas entered the room practically in a prance. There was no mistaking the bubbly way the house steward doled out our plates. He was definitely in high-spirits. Tanner even noticed. Though judging from the slant of the Amethyst Talisman’s brow, he didn’t look the least bit amused.

  “Silas, would you bring the Land Rover around,” Tanner ordered. “I’ll be driving Mr. Smith back to his campus as soon as he finishes his meal.” The underlying grit in his tone was undeniable—to all parties present—despite the graciousness lighting his smile. Tanner had given Ty a hairy-natured ride once before, when he’d taken him to the hospital in Mexico. My gut started to swell, and I knew it wasn’t from the hunk of biscuit I’d swallowed. Ty had skirted getting his brain zapped then, simply as a courtesy to me. However this time, I feared we were both shit
out of luck.

  “No need, Professor,” Silas remarked with a delicate wave. “I’ve already seen to our guest’s travel arrangements and called him a taxi. The driver is waiting outside.” He whipped out his pocket watch. “I think it might be wise if you left now, Mr. Smith. Monday-morning traffic in Boston is so unpredictable. I’m afraid the slightest fender-bender can offset your commute with a dreadful delay. I don’t know about you, but I pride myself in adhering to a punctual schedule.” Silas passed Tanner the faintest of glances. “The thought of arriving late tends to scramble my brain.”

  Tanner may have kept a firm hold on his nonchalant expression, but that double-crossing artery running down his neck sure was pulsing a different story. Now I could see why my mentor had kept his lip zipped in regards to the house steward’s boldness all summer. The view from the other side of Silas’ cracks was much more entertaining.

  Ty picked up his napkin and gave his mouth a final wipe. “You’re probably right, Silas. Thank you.” He rose from his seat and turned to Tanner. “And thank you, Professor Grey, for putting me up for the night.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Tanner remarked.

  I had to fight back a laugh. “LIAR” boomed in my head. And I wasn’t even trying to listen in on Ty’s brainwaves, but his echoed the same sentiments — they were that daggone loud.

  With a coquettish smile, I rose from my seat and took Ty by the hand. “I’ll walk you out,” I announced, never passing Tanner the first glance.

  “So? How are you feeling this morning?” Ty asked no sooner than we had stepped outside.

  The weight of my steps felt as heavy as my thoughts. “I’m fine,” I sighed with a light laugh, trying to knock some of the grit off my tone.

  “Well, you don’t look as edgy,” Ty remarked, “but you do seem upset.”

  I grinned. “You could say that.” Though I felt “shockingly pissed” was a much better fit.

  “About picking up with your training today?” he posed.

  “Nope. It’s the other things,” I vowed and turned my riled stare back to the house.

  “I’m worried about you, Shi. I’ve never seen you this—”

  “Stressed?” I interjected.

  “No, not stressed — distracted,” he corrected.

  My head whipped towards him and dropped straight into a questionable tilt. “My training has been very involved this summer,” I insisted as we started down the steps towards the cab.

  “Sometimes distractions make things more ‘involved’ than they have to be,” he said.

  Hearing the nagging notes of that familiar tune struck a foul cord. In fact, I started to check Ty’s rear just to see if Silas wasn’t standing behind him with his hand stuck up his butt, wiggling out his words like a ventriloquist.

  I wanted us to part on a high-note, so I wrapped my arms around my concerned friend and gave him a squeeze, quashing the conversation.

  The warm hug he returned couldn’t have been more comforting. “So this is what it feels like to get a hug from The Hulk?”

  I pushed out of our embrace with a grunt, glaring.

  Ty threw up his hands. “Just kidding.”

  I pointed to the cab, smiling and shaking my head. “Shut up and get going before I turn green.”

  Ty opened the door to the backseat and hopped inside. After issuing his instructions to the cab driver, he turned back to the window and started cranking it down. Ty nodded to the house. “Shi, trust me . . . Your ‘distraction’ in there is the last thing you should be worrying about.”

  His bold remark stirred my curiosity. “Why is that?”

  Ty averted his stare for a thoughtful second. When his gaze returned, the credence igniting it was blinding. “I don’t have to read minds to know what he’s shielding. Your head may be whirling with a thousand things, but he’s only got one thing on his mind — and that’s you.”

  My head automatically started shaking as the cab pulled off, rejecting the full weight his opinion. And what was he basing that ironclad theory of his on exactly — Guy-radar? I’d been here for weeks and still hadn’t secured any credible “verbal” proof to confirm a claim like that, only a bunch of maddening curiosities that all needed some really damn good explanations.

  I spun around towards the house and marched up the steps. But I sure-fire plan on gettin’ some!

  I stepped inside to find my mentor waiting for me in the foyer, which was good. I was bursting at the seams to find out his motives behind all the magical misdeeds from last night.

  “Was the coma necessary?” I asked.

  Tanner casually diverted his attention to the one of the pictures hanging nearby. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The longer he pretended to level its frame, the more frustrated I grew. Even if he didn’t physically pour it down his throat, I was betting he had ordered the house steward to do it. “And I suppose you don’t know anything about the wards on the doorway being strengthened last night either?”

  Tanner turned towards me, looking as unabashed as ever. “No. I turned up the dial on those.”

  Now there was some shameless honesty. “Why?”

  “Because we had a guest in the house — a house that holds a dungeon full of creatures. I didn’t want another one to find their way down there during any late night strolls. I think you know how hazardous those can be.”

  I’ll admit his reason held some water, which could fill what amounted to a thimble at best. But I still wasn’t buying it.

  I dug my hand firmly into my waist. “I don’t believe you.”

  Tanner locked his arms at his chest. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m on trial?”

  “Because the chances of that happening were slim.” I even pressed my snarky little fingers together and held them up at eye-level to illustrate my doubts. “Like THAT SLIM,” I added, squeezing them harder.

  “Oh, you think so?” he posed.

  “Yes,” I insisted, eyes sparkling. “Without a doubt.”

  “Would the little girl like me to put her suspicions to rest?” he countered.

  I took a fierce step forward. “Oh, you bet your ass she would.”

  Tanner opened the triptych with a cross wave. “Then allow me to provide her with all the proof she needs.”

  “By all means,” I sang snippily.

  We immediately started down the rugged stone staircase. My only regret was the snail’s pace of his descent. I feared his cocky creep was affording him more than enough time to put the finishing touches on whatever crap-crafted cover story was about to unfold. And that’s essentially what had driven me crazy for weeks: his whole “Professor Jekyll” and “Mr. Hyde any feelings” routine. I wasn’t about to let him fast-talk his way out of this one. He’s coming clean, one way or another. My gut screamed its certainty like the cosmos had marked it down on a calendar as a federally recognized holiday. Oh yeah… I can feel it!

  Upon arriving at the dungeon floor, I commenced with a theatrical sweep from left to right, hands arching over my eyes like a set of binoculars. “Hmm, that’s odd . . . I don’t see any doors open, or any creatures roaming free.”

  Tanner shot me a droll glare and then pointed to the mystery door at the end of the hall.

  My spine locked on the spot. “What about it?”

  “Here you are, Ms. Wallace!” Silas blared, jolting my frame into a flinch. I turned to find both my hilt and the oculus clutched in his hands.

  Tanner motioned to the devices. “Pick your poison.”

  I exchanged a steady stream of trepidatious glances between him and the door. “Why now?” I asked. He’d been so hush-hush about what the heck was in there for weeks. What was so threatening about the “mortal” inmate with respect to Ty being here — who was still safely under lock and key?

  “You’re the one leading this investigation, Sherlock.” Tanner sharpened his stare. “The evidence you seek is in there. Go and look for yourself.”

  The confidence hoisting my
smirk started deflating immediately. I was kind of surprised my lips weren’t puttering like a whistling leak shooting out of a punched tire. The tables sure do turn quick around here. I grabbed my hilt and then after a conscientious pause, I went ahead and locked the oculus around my neck as well.

  “Wise decision,” Silas encouraged, nodding to the yet-to-be-christened portal-poofing medallion. “Because that’s proved most indispensable throughout all of your other attempts thus far.”

  I tucked the device under my shirt, ignoring his remark. My anxiety was shooting through the roof at the thought of what was lying on the other side of the door. I couldn’t take not knowing a second longer. “What is—”

  “A demon,” Tanner revealed.

  My mind flashed vividly. A demon? There were three books alone dedicated to creatures claiming that status. I was only midway through the second one. However despite their vast differences, they all shared one thing in common: they were master manipulators of humans and their emotions — the sweet-talkers of the supernatural world.

  “Half-demon” Tanner added. “It was human once. Fray locked it in there, and I’ve never laid the first eye on it,” he stressed, almost with too much conviction.

  “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “Consider this another valuable in-house field lesson — on top of your tenacious need to question my reasons. You never know what creatures you’ll encounter out there. This will give you a chance to experience feeling them out and more practice pulling memories.”

  I only hoped when I phoned-a-friend this time, Bea answered back. I seriously doubted I would find any memory-sparking pianos or dance partners to serve as helpful prompts this go-around.

  “You’re sure about this?” I questioned.

  “Yes. It’s time you made an attempt,” Tanner stated, looking as steely as ever.

  I sensed an uncomfortable explanation brewing, and unfortunately, I was right.