Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Erin Hayes

  “Downstairs windows are all barred, the door’s our only chance,” Danny yelled.

  “Try this!” Kyra threw him the key Ellie had taken from Hal’s truck.

  He jiggled it forcefully in the lock and yanked it to the right. “Fits, but it doesn’t help us any.” He gave the door a few forceful tugs and stepped back, his face grim. “Looks like someone was expecting us. There’s a brand new padlock on here.” He pressed his shoulder against the weathered wooden door and rammed it, grunting. “Doesn’t want to budge.”

  “Hold up there, Taggert. Let’s see what we’ve got,” said Danny. “Can you give me some light?”

  Ellie grabbed the flashlight from Taggert, who was haphazardly shoving his scrawny, adolescent frame against the door.

  She held the beam steady while Danny examined the front door. “The hinges open inward, so that’s a start, but this padlock’s gonna make it tough. I’m hoping the mildew means the wood is compromised.” He stepped back and in one swift, forward movement, drove the heel of his right boot into the door. There was a splintering sound as the wood around the hinges gave. Danny leaned back hard on the heel of his left foot and gave another forceful kick. The rotted door grated open, half falling off its rusted hinges.

  Before Danny regained his balance, Taggert shot past him, yelling for his mother as he bounded up the stairs. Kyra sprinted across the threshold after him, blood pounding loudly in her ears, thoughts of Brian flashing through her head. Please, let Martina be okay. When she reached the top of the dark staircase, Taggert was already on his knees, slapping at a door with both palms.

  Kyra heard a sob, and then Martina’s muffled voice from behind the door. “I’m okay Taggert. It’s okay. I love you.”

  Danny leaned over Kyra’s shoulder. “Mrs. Doyle, I’m gonna kick the door in. I need for you to move as far back as you can.” Ellie came running up behind them and pointed the flashlight at the lock and this time the hollow, interior door fractured easily under Danny’s boot. Before he had shoved it fully open, Martina and Taggert were on the floor at his feet, wrapped in an embrace.

  Tears of relief slipped down Kyra’s cheeks as she stared down at Martina’s matted head of dark hair. Whatever else she’d failed at, she’d kept her promise to Taggert. Martina opened her eyes and looked up at her over her son’s head. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her cheeks glistening in the glow of the flashlight as she clasped Taggert to her chest.

  “We have to go,” Danny urged. “Hal could show up at any minute.” Following his lead, they clattered down the wooden staircase, Taggert half-carrying Martina, Kyra and Ellie steadying her from behind.

  “I’ll call the police right away and let them know we found her,” Danny said, when they reached the vehicles.

  “No reception,” said Kyra tersely, “I tried texting earlier.”

  “Let’s start driving,” said Ellie. “We can make the call as soon as we pick up a signal.”

  Kyra pointed across the water. “There’s a light at that house on the other side of the lake. We could use their phone.”

  Ellie glanced at Martina as Taggert helped her into the jeep. “That wound on her head doesn’t look good. I think we should head straight to the hospital.”

  “It could be an hour’s drive before we get a signal. The sooner the police are on Hal’s tail with an arrest warrant, the safer we all are.” Kyra looked around the group for approval.

  “You’re right,” said Danny. “Safer to get a police escort for Martina too. If we meet Hal on this one-lane road it could get ugly.”

  Kyra looked back at the cabin shrouded by a dark canopy of trees as they pulled away. A barn owl spread its wings and took off from the dilapidated roof. It ascended into the night and rapidly traversed a finger of the lake, before disappearing into the tamarack trees. Kyra shivered. Why did it feel as if there were eyes tracking every move they made?

  The two vehicles stayed in tight formation as they wound around the perimeter to the other end of the lake. When they turned onto the stamped concrete driveway of a palatial log home, an uneasy feeling came over Kyra. Had she made the right decision to stop and call the police? Maybe they should have headed straight for the hospital. The last thing she needed now was to get caught up in a legal wrangle for absconding with a kidnapping victim. Her rap sheet was already long enough in Jim’s eyes to warrant confinement.

  “I’ll check and see if there’s anyone home first,” Kyra said to Danny as he climbed out of the jeep. “The lights might be just for security.”

  “Someone’s home. There’s a Land Rover parked over there.” Danny jerked his head in the direction of the garage as he helped Martina out.

  Taggert jumped out after his mother, took the wide, front steps two at a time, and rang the doorbell. Kyra eyed the stunning exterior stonework and custom wrought-iron light fixtures as they waited. A low, arpeggio chime resonated around the dimly-lit porch.

  “Someone’s coming,” said Ellie. Seconds later, footsteps echoed on the inside.

  The copper-detailed door, hung from a pair of forged-iron strap hinges, swung wide, disclosing a softly illuminated entryway. A tall, elegantly dressed man stood in the doorframe, holding a whisky tumbler in his left hand. Kyra stared at the figure in the black turtleneck, her knees weakening. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the olive-skinned features tightened in a grimace.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The ice in Dr. Brenner’s cocktail glass clinked as he set his drink down on a table inside the foyer. Kyra sucked in her breath, her feet fused to the steps as the doctor scanned the group huddled on the porch. His dark, sculpted brows centered in a frown when his gaze settled on her.

  “How did you get this address?” he asked, curtly.

  She stared at Dr. Brenner, her tongue melded to the roof of her mouth. He seemed almost surreal, floating in front of her like a specter they had unwittingly disturbed. She should have trusted her gut and not come here. She’d sensed the lake was cursed from the minute she’d laid eyes on it. Now she was sure of it. Kyra’s thoughts cart-wheeled out of control. Soul Stalkers had lured her into a trap. Dread, like an invasive vine, crept into every nook and cranny of her brain. They should get back in their cars and leave. Now.

  “Sorry to bother you, sir,” said Danny, stepping forward. “We have an emergency and we need to use your phone.”

  The seams across Dr. Brenner’s forehead vanished. He shifted gears, masking his initial displeasure with an air of concern. “I see. Please, come in.” Moving aside, he gestured them across a marble threshold. “You startled me. Patients don’t ordinarily show up on the doorstep of my weekend home. Is everyone all right? Maybe I can help.”

  Kyra snapped back to her senses and turned to look at Martina. She swayed beneath the subdued porch light, whiter than an apparition, her eyes fixed on Dr. Brenner. “She needs to lie down,” Kyra said, grabbing Martina just as her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled into unconsciousness. In a flash, Danny was at Kyra’s side, bearing Martina’s dead weight in his arms like she was a feather.

  “This way,” said Dr. Brenner, directing them into a spacious great-room hung with a massive antler candelabra. The dark-beamed space was lit only by the fire blazing beneath a roughhewn mantel and a solitary brass reading lamp. An aroma of oak wood from the crackling logs mingled with the scent of expensive leather furnishings.

  Kyra moved a couple of cushions on the couch to make space for Martina. “She was held hostage on the other side of the lake for two days.”

  “She’s severely dehydrated,” said Dr. Brenner tersely, checking Martina’s pulse. “She needs an IV. Call an ambulance. There’s a phone in the alcove in the hallway.” He turned to Taggert. “See if there’s any Gatorade in the refrigerator.”

  Kyra raced out of the room, her heart pounding. Surely Brenner couldn’t harm them here with all these witnesses. Her hand shook so hard, she could barely dial. Her tongue felt thick and heavy, her words tumbling out in disarray.

>   By the time she got back to the others, Martina was coming around. Dr. Brenner steadied a cup of Gatorade at her lips and coaxed her to take a drink. “Well?” he demanded, turning to look at Kyra over his shoulder.

  “They’re on their way.”

  “Take over here,” he said, gesturing to an ashen Taggert leaning against a cowhide nailed to the wall. “I’m going to turn on the exterior floodlights.”

  Kyra blinked back tears as she watched Taggert cradle his mother in his arms.

  “I need to find a bathroom,” she said. She wandered back out into the vaulted hallway. The first door on her left was closed, but a strip of light along the bottom and the muffled sound of a man’s voice caught her attention. She paused outside the door. Dr. Brenner. Odd. Who was he talking to behind closed doors? She turned toward the entryway and hesitated. He hadn’t turned on the floodlights after all. What was he up to? She randomly flicked several switches by the front door until the exterior lights came on.

  The wail of sirens reached her ears as she washed her hands in the powder room in the hallway. She splashed cold water on her face, then dried it off and hurried to open the front door.

  A heavyset EMT with his sleeves rolled up came through first pushing a gurney. A female EMT and a detective followed him into the foyer. Kyra choked back a sob at the comforting sight of the uniforms. They were safe now. Someone else was in charge. It had been a long night, but Martina was finally in good hands, and out of Brenner’s grasp.

  Kyra turned to follow the gurney, but froze when a familiar voice pierced through the commotion. She stared in disbelief as Jim strode into the hallway rattling into his two-way radio. What was he doing here?

  She watched him turn the corner and disappear into the great room. She’d broken any number of laws tonight, trespassing being the least of them. One way or another, Jim might try to entangle her in this.

  Slouched over in the hallway, Kyra startled when the heavyset EMT reappeared with Martina strapped to the gurney, Taggert trailing behind.

  Kyra leaned over and squeezed Martina’s hand gently. “Hal can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe now. I promise.”

  Martina smiled back weakly. Kyra put an arm around Taggert and watched as the EMT wheeled the gurney outside and loaded it into the back of the ambulance. He climbed in behind and shut the door.

  “You did it, Kyra,” Danny said, walking over to them with a smile on his face.

  “We all did it. I couldn’t have got her out of there without you.” She rubbed the tears from the corners of her eyes, then stiffened, suddenly aware of someone standing directly behind her.

  “Ms. Williams.” The voice was penetrating and cold.

  Swinging around, she flinched at the sight of Dr. Brenner hovering inches away, his dark face unreadable. “I need to talk with you, in private.” Without waiting for a response he turned on his heel, as if presuming she would follow. Kyra gripped Danny by the sleeve. “Will you come with me, please?”

  His penetrating blue eyes met hers. “Of course.”

  Kyra turned to Taggert. “Let Ellie know I’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes.”

  Dr. Brenner led them into the room where he’d been on the phone earlier. Kyra glanced curiously around the square paneled space. A large, antique bookcase covered the entire back wall and an ornately gargoyled mahogany podium stood in one corner. He pulled an upholstered chair out and gestured to Kyra. Danny took the seat next to her just as Jim strode into the room. He bobbed his head at them, locked his arms to his chest, and leaned up against the edge of the bookcase, one ankle slung over the other.

  Kyra stared at him, swallowing back the bile that surged up her throat. What was he doing in here?

  Dr. Brenner turned to Kyra and cleared his throat. “This is going to be difficult for you to hear. Your father became concerned when you weren’t answering your phone, and when he stopped by to check on you, you weren’t home. He was worried about your safety—considering all that’s happened recently.” He paused as if to gauge the reaction on her face. “He signed the consent forms for your involuntary commitment to an in-house treatment program. The police have been looking for you for several hours now.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Kyra gasped, half rising out of her chair. “That’s not possible. Dad had a heart attack a few hours ago.”

  Dr. Brenner raised his brows and shot Jim a quick look. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wasn’t aware of it.” He pushed some paperwork across the desk toward her. “But, evidently it happened after he filed the emergency court order. Here’s his signature.”

  Kyra looked down at the blur of words in front of her. How could ... It didn’t make sense.

  Danny laid an arm across her shoulder. “I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. We’ll get this sorted out, Kyra.”

  “Alternatively,” Jim chimed in, “I could have you arrested for fleeing across the county line as a person of interest in a homicide investigation.” He adjusted his stance, lips spread wide in a feral grin.

  “It might be better if you removed yourself from my office, detective.” Dr. Brenner stood, hands splayed on his desk in front of him, the olive skin on his face mottled.

  Kyra held her breath. The room spun like a mechanical ride in a macabre carnival. She was trapped.

  Jim straightened up, uncrossed his arms and adjusted the Sam Browne belt around his waist. “I don’t take orders from you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the doctor. “I have the legal right to take whatever steps are necessary to facilitate my investigation.”

  “Kyra Williams is my patient,” Dr. Brenner replied. “I have a signed consent for treatment, and facility transport standing by. You have no authority to interfere with a court-ordered process.”

  Jim scowled. “We’ll see who has the last word on this when I have your patient subpoenaed.” He swiveled around and stomped out of the room, the echo of his footsteps trailing his threat.

  Dr. Brenner sat back down and composed himself before he continued. “I understand how stressful this must be for you, Kyra. From here on out, we can make the process as easy or as difficult as you like. You can comply with the court order, or you can force me to have you physically assisted onto the transport van. Sedated even.”

  Kyra ran her fingertips over her clammy palms. Involuntary commitment.

  “Can you give us a minute alone, please.” Danny’s voice sounded tinny, a faint echo compared to the tribal pounding in Kyra’s ears.

  “Very well.” Dr. Brenner rose and strode to the door, pausing for a moment to look pointedly at Danny. “But I would strongly advise Ms. Williams to comply with the court order.”

  He clicked the door shut behind him. Kyra buried her face in her hands. Danny laid a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t fight this outside the law. You’re going to have to challenge the legitimacy of it from within the facility. Better that than being led out of here in handcuffs.”

  Kyra picked up the paperwork from the desk and scanned through it, her fingers trembling, the words swimming in and out of focus. Containment of imminent danger, declining mental reasoning, gravely disabled capacity. Her shirt crawled with sweat, her breath came in short painful jabs.

  She laid the papers back down on the desk. Why was it so cold in here? So terribly cold. The fire in the great room must be out. That was it. That roaring fire in there was dead. The stupid fire was dead. Brian was dead. The Soul Stalkers want me dead. The end is coming!

  More mad jumbled thoughts smashed into her skull. Why was her dad—Greg—doing this to her? And Jim? Dr. Brenner? Ganging up on her. Scheming against her behind her back, just like Todd and her ex-boss, Don. Setting her up, and then tearing her down like it was some kind of game. Those sick notes that twisted her mind into knots that couldn’t be untangled. Maybe they’d all been in on it from the beginning. She shoved her chair violently backward, her chest heaving for air. She had to get away from them all.

  Her limbs felt weaker than rubber. The room swiveled.
Panic surged through her when she realized her arms were pinned. A blond head and brilliant blue eyes closed in, lips molding impossible words in rapid succession. She widened her eyes. Danny? But she could trust him, right? Then, why was he grappling with her? She flailed wildly, crumbling in the wake of the darkness swallowing her mind. Was he a Soul Stalker?

  Chapter Fifty

  Kyra huddled with her knees pressed tight to her chest, her shoulders shuddering with a life of their own. Strands of damp hair clung to the back of her neck where Danny had placed an ice pack after he’d got her halfway calmed down. She’d lost it. She couldn’t fool herself any longer; her mind was unraveling. She’d succumbed to a full-blown psychotic attack and actually believed Danny was a Soul Stalker. She was mad as the hobo swigging on the steps, mad as the muttering sandwich board man.

  Reluctantly, she unwound her limbs and turned to look at Danny perched on the edge of the chair beside her. She cringed at the welts on his cheek, a testament to the abyss of panic she’d fallen into. Maybe she really had attacked Dr. Brenner at her last appointment as he’d claimed. Guilt nagged through her numbness. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Let’s talk about you.”

  “I can’t risk being in contempt of court,” Kyra said, after a moment of reflection. “I’ll go to the mental health facility and fight the order from there.”

  Danny nodded. “I think that’s a wise decision now that law enforcement is involved. I’ll ride down there with you.”

  “I don’t think my father signed that order. If Dr. Brenner forged his signature, it should be enough to prosecute him with.”

  Danny looked somber. “Hard to believe a doctor would risk doing that, but we won’t know anything for sure until we get to the facility. I’ll let Dr. Brenner know you’re ready and explain to the others what’s going on. Do you need anything out of your car?”