Dark Magic (Harbinger P.I. Book 3)

by Adam J. Wright

  She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, we can do that for you. There is the matter of payment, though.”

  “What? I already owe you a favor from last time. I’m only asking you to do one little thing.”

  “Yes, you owe us a favor for casting a werewolf locator spell,” she said, nodding. “This is a different matter so it will require additional payment.”

  “Okay, so what do you want, another favor? I’ll owe you two, how about that?”

  She looked at me closely. “No, I don’t think so. Something more immediate would be preferable.”

  I sighed, wondering if coming here had been a mistake. The last time I’d been here, I’d agreed to exchange a favor for the sisters casting a werewolf locator spell. I’d needed to find the werewolf in town so I could save lives. But now, being checked out magically by the sisters wasn’t imperative. I could live without it. “Never mind,” I said. “I changed my mind.” I turned to the door.

  Victoria said, “No need to be like that, Alec. Come on, we’ll find Devon and check you over.”

  “What about the payment?” I asked.

  She waved a slender hand in the air dismissively. “We’ll forego the payment on this occasion. We don’t want to fall out with the town’s preternatural investigator, do we? Come on.” She disappeared behind a stack of books.

  What she’d said about falling out with the town’s P.I. made me run after her. “Hey, did you ever work with the P.I. who was in town before me?”

  “Sherry Westlake?” she asked, leading me through the maze of bookshelves to the back of the shop. “Yes, of course.”

  “What kind of things did you do for her?”

  “Oh, the usual. Minor magics, locator spells, enchanting items, that sort of thing.”

  “Did she ever mention a church in Clara?”

  Victoria stopped and turned to face me. “You mean the church where thirteen people died.” It wasn’t a question, and the lightness in her voice was gone to be replaced by a somber tone.

  I nodded. “Yeah, that place.”

  “That place is evil,” she said quietly.

  “I know. Did Sherry ever mention it to you?”

  “No,” she said simply, turning around again and continuing toward the rear of the shop.

  I followed, wondering if she knew anything else about the church. As a witch, she probably got a bad vibe in her magical senses every time the place was mentioned so maybe it was nothing more than that. Or maybe she knew more about the church and the Fairweather family who owned it than she was letting on.

  “Alec, how nice to see you,” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Devon Blackwell, Victoria’s younger and more psychic sister. She wore a Victorian-style dress as well, only hers was of dark red velvet. Like Victoria, Devon wore her black hair long and untethered.

  “I’m sure you knew I was coming,” I said.

  “Well, I didn’t say it was a surprise, did I?”

  “No, but your sister did earlier. Maybe she doubts your power of prophecy.”

  Devon smiled and waggled a finger at me as if I were a naughty child. “Now there’s no need for that. Come into the back room and we’ll see if that door in your mind is still closed.”

  I followed them into the small room from which they ran the mail-order side of their business. Stacks of boxes flanked a metal desk with a computer sitting on it. An old sofa and wooden coffee table were the main features of the room. A pungent smell of herbs came from a kitchenette area where the sisters made their tea.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” Victoria asked when she saw me looking at the kitchenette.

  “No, thank you,” I said quickly.

  “All right, take a seat,” she said, indicating the sofa.

  I sat and Devon joined me, taking my hands in hers and closing her eyes. Her hands were warm, her grip loose. After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “The door that was inside your mind is gone. You must have used powerful magic to remove it.”

  “Ancient Egyptian,” I said.

  Victoria shot me a glance, telling me to be quiet.

  Devon began to tremble slightly and a look of fear settled on her face. “Thirteen times thirteen,” she whispered.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Victoria held up a hand. She’d told me before not to interrupt Devon when she was in one of her trances but I needed details, not vague prophecies.

  Devon’s eyes flew open. She looked around the room fearfully. “I don’t want to look at it. I can’t.” Her grip on my hands tightened until she was almost crushing my fingers.

  Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she repeated, “Thirteen times thirteen.”

  I didn’t like this. Devon’s trance state was creepy. I waited to see if she would say anything else, preferably to explain what thirteen times thirteen meant, but she fell silent and closed her eyes again. When she opened them again, she looked at me and said, “I don’t know what it means.”

  Great. What point was the power of prophecy if it was so vague?

  “Thanks,” I said. At least I knew the magical door was gone from my head. I got up from the sofa.

  Victoria put a hand on my shoulder. “Wait. Before you go, we might as well check if the enchantment is gone.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean? I thought the false memories were the enchantment. They’re gone now. Devon just said so.”

  “Still, there’s no harm in checking. This is magic that we’re talking about. Things aren’t always straightforward.” She pulled the rune-engraved stone from her pocket and hung it on its leather cord near my chest. “Freyja, adept of the mysteries, open our eyes to the magic which has been hidden from our sight.”

  The amulet began to spin.

  CHAPTER 7

  “There is still an enchantment on you,” Victoria said, watching the spinning amulet.

  I wasn’t so sure. “Maybe it’s just picking up the enchantments on my tattoos.”

  Devon shook her head. “No, this is something much deeper.”

  I looked from Victoria to Devon. “And you can’t tell me what kind of enchantment it is?”

  The both shook their heads. “If we did some research,” Victoria said. “May we take a lock of hair from you?”

  “No, thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

  “You don’t trust us, do you?” Devon asked.

  I opened the door and said, “Don’t take it personally. In my line of work, suspicion is healthy and can keep you alive.”

  “How terrible,” Victoria said. “That really is no life at all, Alec. Everyone needs friends.”

  “I have friends,” I said, walking back into the main part of the bookshop. I navigated my way through the stacks of books until I could see the front door. The witches were right; I didn’t trust them. Certainly not with a lock of my hair. But I might need to use them again in the future so I kept my mouth shut.

  When I reached the door, Victoria said, “Good luck with the enchantment.”

  “See you again soon,” Devon added.

  “Yeah, right, thanks.” I went out onto Main Street and walked back to the office. My good mood was not only shattered now, it was in tiny fragments. I couldn’t believe there was still an enchantment on me. What the hell did it mean? Maybe the magical ability was coming from it but that didn’t make much sense since I’d first used magic when I was just a kid. It seemed unlikely that an enchantment had been cast on me then but, knowing my father, I couldn’t rule anything out.

  By the time I pushed through the door to my office and ascended the narrow stairs, I was in a dark mood. It was in my nature to find answers to questions and solve cases. Not knowing what kind of spell had been cast on me or why annoyed me.

  Felicity was in her office, at her computer. She looked up at me over the rim of her glasses and said, “Wesley Jones was here. He brought the Sherry Westlake material over.”

  “Great, where is it?”

  “On the floor in your office.”
r />   I opened my office door and was surprised by the size of the cardboard box sitting on the floor by my desk. I’d been expecting something the size of a shoe box but this was so tall that it came up to my waist. Wesley had sealed it with packing tape.

  “How much research did he do on Sherry?” I asked. “He must have been following her for months.”

  “I don’t think it’s all papers,” Felicity said. “He told me there’s something else inside the box that you’ll want to see.”

  I shrugged. “Okay.” Whatever it was, it could wait until later. I might not be in the best of humor but I still wanted to go over the Westlake stuff with Felicity at my house. And I needed pizza. I’d hardly eaten today and that wasn’t helping my mood at all.

  Taking out my phone, I called Mallory and got her voicemail. “Hey, Mallory, it’s Alec. Just wondering how you are. Call me anytime.” When I ended the call, I wondered if her phone had gone to voicemail because it was turned off or if she was avoiding me and had rejected my call. I really didn’t need to go there; I was feeling low enough already.

  Telling myself to snap out of it, I made a second call, this time to Al’s Pizzeria, and ordered a large pepperoni pizza. That made me feel a little better.

  I called to Felicity, “We need to leave now. It’s urgent.”

  She appeared at the door, a worried look on her face. “Why? What’s happened?”

  “We need to beat the pizza guy to my house,” I said.

  She let out a sigh of relief and then stood with her hands on her hips, her expression serious. “That’s not funny, Alec. If I had something to throw at you right now, I’d use it.”

  “Well, instead of doing that, throw yourself into that tiny car of yours and let’s go to my place.”

  “Fine, just let me switch my computer off first.” She went back into her office and I heard her fussing around in there.

  I picked up the box. The damn thing was heavy. “What the hell did Wesley put in here?”

  “I have no idea.” Felicity crossed the hall to the top of the stairs. “But it looks like I’ll be getting my hands on that pizza first.” She laughed and went downstairs quickly.

  “Fine,” I said as I followed her down, “but you’ll have to pay the delivery guy.”

  She was already gone.

  I got to my place and parked the Caprice in the driveway. The blue Mini was in the driveway next door but there was no sign of Felicity. I opened the Caprice’s trunk and hauled the big cardboard box out. I’d had to squash it down to fit it inside the trunk and had felt something solid through the cardboard. I was intrigued.

  I took it inside and set it down on the living room floor before going into the kitchen to make coffee. As I looked out of the kitchen window to the trees at the bottom of the yard, I got that feeling of being watched again. Despite the brightness of the day, the shadows down there were dark and impenetrable. Anyone could be hiding there, watching me through the window.

  “Get a grip, Harbinger,” I told myself, figuring I’d seen enough pictures of scary monsters today to set my nerves on edge. I was just being paranoid. I closed the blinds anyway.

  A knock at the door turned my attention from paranoia to pizza and I went quickly to open it, finding Felicity on the front porch. “I thought you were the pizza guy,” I said. “I’m disappointed.”

  The truth was, I wasn’t disappointed at all. Felicity had changed into a black blouse that had a plunging neckline and lace around the neck and hem. She had changed her “exploring the old church” jeans for a tight black pair that showed off the curves of her thighs. And she had let her hair out of the pins that usually kept it piled up on top of her head so that it hung loosely around her neck and shoulders.

  She shot me a mock incredulous look and said, “Fine, I’ll go home and leave you alone with your pepperoni.”

  I laughed and stepped back from the door. She slipped in past me and I caught a subtle scent of perfume that smelled enticingly of lotus flower.

  Closing the door, I said, “Make yourself at home. Coffee?”

  “I thought we were having beer?” she said as she went into the living room and sat on the sofa, her dark eyes on the box.

  “Yes,” I said. “Beer.” Her appearance had taken me off guard and I wondered if I should change too. I was still wearing the same clothes I’d worn in the church and they were dusty and dirty.

  Grabbing two bottles of Bud from the fridge, I put them on the coffee table and said, “Help yourself. I’ll be right back.” I took the stairs to my bedroom two at a time and found a fresh pair of blue jeans and a black Harley Davison T-shirt.

  I changed quickly and checked myself in the mirror before frowning at my own reflection. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Harbinger? This isn’t a date, it’s work.” I was right, of course. Just because Felicity had showed up looking like a million dollars in a black denim and lace package didn’t mean anything.

  Besides, she was still getting over Jason. I would never be able to live with myself if I took advantage of her recent breakup and became some sort of “rebound guy”.

  I went back downstairs as the pizza guy knocked on the door. Felicity had been going to answer it but I beat her to it, opening the door before she reached it.

  The delivery guy was a dark-haired young man in his early twenties and he wore an Al’s Pizzeria dark green cap and T-shirt. “Twenty-four-inch pepperoni pizza,” he said, handing me the large flat box he’d been holding. The smell of pepperoni and melted mozzarella drifted up through the cardboard, making my mouth water.

  I paid him and gave him a tip. He smiled and said, “Thanks. Have a great evening.” His eyes flickered to Felicity then back to me and he gave me a wink before turning and heading down the driveway to his car.

  When I turned to face Felicity, she was smiling. “Well, that was rather cheeky of him.”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking the pizza into the living room and putting it on the coffee table. I opened the box and the mouth-watering smells got even stronger, rising into the living room with the steam from the hot pizza.

  “It’s too hot to eat yet,” Felicity said.

  “We have plenty of time,” I said, pointing at the big cardboard box on the floor. “Let’s open the mystery box and see what’s inside.”

  She nodded and began picking at the edge of the packing tape with her fingernails until she had enough free to tear the tape off the top of the box.

  I opened it and looked inside. There were papers and photos in there, pinned to the bottom of the box by a large stone disc. I reached in and pulled it out, putting it on the floor because there was no more room on the coffee table.

  “What’s that?” Felicity asked.

  The stone disc was the size of a Frisbee and had a hole in its center like a faerie stone. But inserted into the hole was a piece of white crystal. The dark surface of the stone had symbols and lines painted onto it in white paint. All the lines radiated from the center circle.

  “It’s called an Apollo Stone,” I said. “Investigators use them to find out what’s happening in a particular area while they’re not around. Like a recording device.”

  She frowned. “Wouldn’t a camera be better?”

  “The Apollo Stone is different than a camera. It doesn’t need a battery because it’s charged by sunlight hitting the crystal. It doesn’t need to be pointed in any specific direction because it records the entire area around it. The range depends on the size of the stone disc. This one would have a range of maybe fifty or sixty feet. And unlike a camera, the Apollo Stone ignores mundane activity and only picks up events that are connected to magic or the supernatural.”

  Felicity nodded. “So why did Wesley Jones have this and where did it come from?”

  I shrugged, tipping out the contents of the box onto the floor. Loose papers, notebooks, and photographs slid across the carpet. Felicity got down onto the floor and examined some of the papers. “If there’s anything here that explains why
Wesley had an Apollo Stone, it’ll take ages to find it.”

  “There’s an easier way,” I said, looking up the number for Dearmont Games on my phone. When I found it, I called the store.

  My call was answered immediately. “Dearmont Games, Wesley speaking, how can I help you?”

  “It’s Alec Harbinger,” I said.

  “So you want to know about the stone,” he said. “Do you know what it is?”

  “Yeah, I want to know how and where you got it. I’m assuming you saw Sherry Westlake leave it somewhere and then you went and picked it up.”

  “Not right away,” he said. “I didn’t go get it until after she disappeared. I figured she wouldn’t be coming back for it, with the feds searching for her and all. So I kept it with the other stuff. I’ve poked and prodded it and tried to look it up on the internet but I don’t know what it is or what it does.”

  “When and where did you see her put it?” I asked him. “And when did you go get it?”

  “Let’s see,” he said, “I saw her hide it in some bushes maybe a week before Christmas. I collected it on New Year’s Day, a week after Westlake disappeared. So what the hell is it? Is it important?”

  “I don’t know. You haven’t told me where Sherry hid it.”

  “Oh, right. It was on the island. Whitefish Island in the middle of the lake.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “Sherry had made a connection between the church and the lake,” I told Felicity after ending the call with Wesley. “While she was investigating the church, she put the Apollo Stone on the island in the middle of the lake. Whitefish Island. Wesley watched her from the docks while she took a boat out there.”

  She looked up from the scattered papers and photos. “So how do we play back what the stone recorded?”

  “That’s going to be difficult,” I said. “The stone records onto the crystal, like a hard drive, but to read the recording requires a witch or a psychic who can pick up impressions from the crystal.”

  Felicity sighed. “She should have used a camera.”

  “Hey, it’s magic, not science. I don’t really want to go to the Blackwell sisters with the crystal. We don’t know what’s on it and I’m not ready to share it with anyone else.” I thought for a moment. “There is a way we can see the recording but it means getting hold of a particular artifact. They might have one at the Society headquarters in Bangor.”