by Erin Hayes
“Oh, so you have enhanced hearing, as well as enhanced vision?”
He smiled, and turned toward the door. “Baby, I have enhanced everything.”
Jessica growled, shaking her head. “I don’t know about that. Based on that article you wrote about me, I wouldn’t say that you have enhanced sensitivity.”
The darkness in the room suddenly dimmed his vision, a thin red haze covering everything. Jessica’s remark set off a surge of anger in a way he had never felt before. He spun around, facing her.
Eyes widening, she backed away.
“Euros? What the hell…”
He jerked himself to a stop, struggling against the evil that seeped into his skin, his veins. Jessica was staring at him, a look of horror on her face, her gun now drawn, but he saw her hand shaking in fear. He growled, his hands clenched in fists of rage. His thoughts shifted from anger to fear that he would hurt her, and then back again. He struggled to regain control of himself, and he finally backed away from her.
“I need to…we need to get out of here. Now. This room is…cursed. Not safe for me. Or for you.”
She slowly lowered her gun, as he turned and bolted from the room. In the hallway, the swirl of rage slowly left his mind, ebbing out of his system in waves. The residual magic was less destructive, the anger inside of him drawing back. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, then exhaled.
“Euros? Are you okay?” Her fingers gently brushed his shoulder, but he pulled away, not ready to feel her touch.
He nodded, still breathing heavily. “Not yet…”
“What is it?” She took a step back, and it was clear she was still frightened by what she saw on his face. “Is it the magic?”
“Yes. It’s…I felt it at Lansing’s. It’s dark, evil…”
“You said that. I can feel it. And I can feel how it affects you. You’re different…”
“It’s deadly, Jessica. Murderous.” He turned to meet her gaze. “It’s not safe.”
“You said that. But why?”
He took her arm, pulling her down the hall, away from the bedroom suite. She’d holstered her gun, but he saw the holster was unsnapped. As he moved away from the room, the tendrils of darkness lost any control they had on his mind, finally gone from his body. Tension left his muscles, and by the time he reached the other end of the hall, he felt in full control once again.
“Whatever this magic is, whoever created it, some woman… it carries her rage, her intent to kill. When I encounter it…”
She stopped, her eyes meeting his. “When you encounter it, you want to kill. And this time it was me.”
Her voice was low, and it wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. All he could do was nod.
“Then we need to get out of here.”
“No. We need to find that storage room.”
“Euros, if the magic here affects you this strongly, what’s it going to be like in the room with the books? Won’t it be just as strong, just as devastating for you there?”
He shook his head. Out here, away from the dark magic, it didn’t seem as intense. The anger was just a dull thudding in his temples. For a minute, he wondered if he had even felt what he had, or if he’d imagined all of it. But the fear etched on Jessica’s face was very real.
“I think I’ll be able to control it.” He managed a small smile. “It won’t be as intense. It’s stronger in there…” He pointed over his shoulder at the bedroom doors. “Whoever did this, expended a tremendous amount of energy in that room, both magical and physical. Neither Lansing, nor Parnell, were killed by magic alone. This was personal—who, or whatever did this, wanted to kill them face-to-face. Whoever it was, she wanted to look into each victim’s eyes, as she took his life.”
“Then she must have used magic to restrain them, right? Dr. Greene said Lansing had no drugs in his system that would account for him not fighting back, while someone stabbed him to death.”
He took Jessica’s hand into his own. She tensed, but let him guide her down the hall. “Let’s get going. We need to find the storage room right away.”
“Can you find it by following the trail of magic?”
“I think so. There’s magic here, in the hall, but it’s different. I would say by the time she came this way, the rage was gone, but was on the hunt. I’d also say she knew where to go, knew where the storage room is.”
They’d come to a barrier of yellow tape. Beyond that, the hall turned into a crossroads of sorts. Jessica reached out, lifting the tape.
“Let’s look through here.”
They ducked under the tape. At the turn in the hallway, the décor changed abruptly. Clearly, Parnell felt no need to decorate an area that only staff would see. The walls were plain white, the lush carpet of the public rooms, turning into an ugly utilitarian, gray industrial covering. Euros was certain no one of any importance, at least in Parnell’s mind, came this way. He wondered if the man had ever walked down this hall himself.
Jessica stopped at the entrance to what had to be the largest kitchen she had ever seen. Everything was gleaming stainless steel. An industrial-sized fridge and stove, as well as massive freezers, lined one wall.
“Holy cow. You could fit my whole apartment in here.”
“And mine.” Euros moved past Jessica. “There’s a trail here, faint, but it leads this way.
They walked past a long granite island, devoid of anything resembling a human touch. Euros’s mind went back to the hearth in the croft where he’d grown up, recalling the smoke from the peat fire scenting the room and mixing with the smell of the simple food his mother cooked. This sterile place chilled him.
“Here…”
Jessica disappeared down a narrow passage, doors lining the sides. She opened them cautiously. He wondered if she sensed the magic here, or if she expected some magical creature to jump out from behind one. He couldn’t blame her; he was on edge, muscles tensed, magic tingling at the tips of his fingers.
The first door opened into a pantry, the next looked like a linen closet, and the following held housekeeping supplies. Jessica opened the last door, then turned to him with a grin.
“Jackpot.”
He looked past her into a room that what could only be called organized chaos. Stacks of boxes lined the walls, some opened, dribbling packing foam and bubble wrap. Everything was labeled with neat handwriting in black marker.
They moved deeper into the room, pausing to look into the open boxes, but it took Euros only a few minutes to find what they were looking for.
“Jesus…it looks like someone tried to chew into the box.”
The box might have been sealed, but it was impossible to tell now. The top was shredded, packing material dragged out of the box. Jessica kneeled, tentatively pulling open what remained of the damaged cardboard.
“Books. At least some of them were books.”
Euros squatted beside Jessica. What was left in the box could have been books, but right now all he saw were tattered pages and ripped covers. Jessica looked at him, her forehead crinkled.
“How can we tell if it was the body of the grimoire that was taken?”
Euros picked up one of the shredded pieces of cardboard. “This is from an auction house. There has to be a packing list in here somewhere.”
They started pulling out torn books and shredded pages, dumping the debris onto the floor. Finally, Jessica got to the bottom of the box, coming up with a sheet of paper. Shaking it free of debris, she held it out to him.
“It’s a list of contents. Maybe something will stand out to you?”
Euros took the paper from her hands. His skeptical eyes scanned the words on the page. “Most of the books on this list are general books on magic though, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Jessica moved to stand next to him so she could see the page.
“How is this stuff ordinary? I don’t think any of those books sound ordinary to me.”
“Most of these are standard books regarding Wicca. The
y just explain the different traditions, primarily in the Gardnerian tradition. Explanations about creating covens, things like that.”
She shook her head, then shrugged. “Basic knowledge? Something anyone could find anywhere?”
“Right. We’re looking for something more obscure.”
“Oh, wait.” She grabbed his arm, her voice rising. “So, it wouldn’t have a title, would it? It would be just a book, untitled and a little battered, if someone tried to tear it apart. But it would be just a book to us, an old book, without a title.”
Before he realized it, he’d pulled her into a hug. “Yes. That’s right. Just a book.”
She didn’t pull away for a moment, but then she gently disengaged from his arms. But that moment pushed aside the dark magic like a breeze, clearing it out like smoke from a room. For that moment, he felt the weight leave him, and realized just how damaging this evil magic was becoming to him, to his psyche, to his very soul.
“Jessica, we need to find whoever is behind these murders. Not just to prevent the next murder from happening, but to keep whatever this is, out of my world.”
“Out of both of our worlds.” The look on her face said it all. Her statement was a simple one, but one that meant a lot to him. She cared deeply for him, still.
“Yes, both our worlds. There are forces behind those portals who would easily destroy this world, and mine, if it meant having absolute power…if it meant they could control both worlds.”
“Is that what you think? That someone is trying to harness dark magic so, that they can control both worlds?”
“I’ve been going over this in my mind again and again… I think it’s someone who not only wants to be able to travel between worlds, but control both. I’m not sure why I feel that way, but I do.”
“But I thought sealing the portals was to protect both worlds? That your people wanted it that way?”
“We’re not exactly a democracy. The Elders made the decision, they created the grimoire, and sealed the portals. They chose Gatekeepers and posted them, and decided that was enough protection. And it has been for a long, long time.” He sighed deeply, running his fingers through his chestnut hair. “It took years to craft the grimoire, to create the spells, to make them so powerful that once cast, the portals would remain sealed for eternity.”
“But that didn’t happen?”
“Magic isn’t like concrete. It’s not a solid force. It’s permeable for those who were given permission to pass through, like Mixt…and myself. As Gatekeepers, we can pass back and forth from one world to another.”
“So, only Gatekeepers can pass through the portals?”
“Yeah. We were given that ability. It’s encoded in us now, almost like DNA.”
“And when you took me through the portal? You were able to do that because you are a Gatekeeper?”
He thought he saw her shudder just a little at the memory. “That’s right. Gatekeepers can allow entry when guiding another.”
“So, it’s possible that a Gatekeeper is the one responsible?”
Euros nodded, a deep look of sadness sprawled across his face. “Yeah, it’s possible, but I don’t believe the dark magic has made it into my world yet, so I don’t believe it’s a Gatekeeper. If so, they could cross back and forth, like I do, and not need the grimoire.”
“Right, yeah. Why weren’t the portals just destroyed years ago? That would ensure your world was kept protected, right?”
“Hope.” It almost hurt to say the words. “The hope that someday the portals could be opened, that the two worlds could learn to exist together again.”
Jessica went silent, but she held his gaze. Then she reached out and brushed her hand against his, just for a moment. That simple gesture said more than words ever could.
Finally, with a sigh, she glanced down at the list he still held in his hands. “So, we really don’t need this. We could count the books, and know that one was missing. Whoever it was, took what they wanted. Am I right in thinking they used magic to know which box the body of the grimoire was in?”
It was hard not to grin at her. “Yes. Exactly. This box has an essence of magic, faint, ancient. But it’s there.” He didn’t bother to explain it was overlaid with the dank feeling of the dark magic, or that he couldn’t use his magic to see whether the body of the grimoire had ever been there in the first place. The dark magic was pressing against him, weakening his magic, moving in eddies around his feet.
“You said there was going to be another murder. How do you know that?”
“A book, and a buckle, remember? We know she probably now has the body of the grimoire, but there’s one more part that she would need. The binding, a leather strap that went around the book, and was held closed with a silver buckle.”
Something tickled the back of his mind, something that seemed so obvious, he should know what it was. But the effects of the dark magic fogged his mind. He needed Jessica for this, needed her keen senses, and her abilities as a detective.
“What we need to do is look for something that ties Lansing and Parnell together. Some reason maybe that would have put both in the same place at the same time, or someone who had connected them. Someone who knew that both men had a part of the grimoire.”
“You think the killer is someone they both knew then?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a place to start. Wouldn’t you have done that anyway, if you were still the lead on the case? Rule out, or rule in, one person who would have had a motive to kill both men?”
Jessica frowned, then started pacing back and forth in the small storage area, ignoring the debris on the floor. “Okay. What do we know? Both men were politically active, so that gives us a huge list of potential suspects.” She looked at him, and it was clear from the expression in her eyes, she was frustrated.
“I’m pissed off that I’m off the case. I don’t have any access to anything they found here at Parnell’s, who they might have as suspects, forensics…” She ran a hand through her hair, fingers tangling in the long strands. Impatient, she jerked her fingers free. “I’m such an idiot…”
“You’re not. You’re good at your job. It’s simple office politics, and who knows whom. It has nothing to do with your abilities. You know that.”
“Who you know…who they knew.” She stopped pacing, and turned to look at him. The intensity of her gaze made him want to almost back up a step.
“Euros, can you remember who was in the photos in the hallway at Lansing’s? It seems to me that would be the logical place to start. Parnell knew everyone, and had his fingers in everyone’s business. But apparently, he didn’t feel the need to line his walls with photos of those people.”
“Lansing was a public creature, both by nature and by the nature of his office. From the number of photos, I’d say that for whatever reason when people came to his house, they expected to have their photo taken with Lansing.”
“Most of those end up in the newspaper, or online. He’s generous with sharing them. I used to think he was egotistical for having his picture taken so often, but I’m thinking now it might be our saving grace to figuring out who this killer is.”
“Do you want to go back there?”
Jessica shook her head. “I want to look around here, see if there’s anything that might help.” She took the packing list from Euros. “Does anything else on this list mean anything to you? Or the name of the auction house?”
“No. Not the auction house…” He glanced at the boxes stacked around them. They were all labeled with the same marker, in the same neat handwriting. “Did the man you talked to about the books know anything about the other artworks? The paintings and sculptures?”
“I think you’re using the term art loosely. I can’t imagine anyone would pay money for this stuff. You see those statues in the hall? The public entrance has the same things.” She shook her head. “No accounting for taste, right?”
He moved past her, scanning the boxes, reading the information marked on them
. On several cartons, he recognized the name of the gallery, Galerie d’art Manifique. A thin layer of dust lay across several cartons. He ran his finger through it. Some of the boxes were relabeled with addresses of Parnell’s other properties.
“Do you know this gallery? Anything about it, or the owner? I saw this name on plaques on some of the artwork. Parnell seemed to have a penchant for advertising.”
Jessica crouched down beside one of the boxes. She traced a finger over the street name. “The address…this doesn’t exist anymore.” She turned to look up at Euros. “It’s one of the neighborhoods Parnell destroyed, to build his luxury apartments.”
“Ah, so he’d been a patron of a gallery, he then put out of business. I wonder how the owner felt about that.”
Dusting her hands, Jessica stood up. “Not very happy, I’d imagine. I don’t know who the owner is though. Do you?”
He shook his head, then moved to a box that was open, one that carried the same gallery name stamped across the side. “One way to find out. Might be on a packing list.”
They took a minute to rummage through one of the boxes marked with the address of the gallery. Jessica reached in, and pulled out a document. Glancing over her shoulder, he let his gaze move to the bottom of the page. In very feminine handwriting, so ornate it was almost unreadable, was a signature, along with a note of thanks that was more legible, but just barely.
He read the name out loud. “Anastasia Kane.”
“Think this is our girl, Euros?”
He shook his head, his forehead creased in deep thought. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve seen this name somewhere before.”
Jessica’s eyes suddenly went wide. “The photographs in Lansing’s hall. Some of them were signed…the one with the sports guy, and that woman. He’d autographed it… maybe her name is on one of the photos.”
With a smile, he plucked the paper out of Jessica’s hand, folded it and stuffed into the pocket of his coat. “You up for another bout of magic?”
She cringed, but shot him a smile. “Another magic transference from one place to another? Specifically, to Lansing’s house?”