Love Charms

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Love Charms Page 110

by Multiple


  But before I passed out, I heard Athena instruct Zyllven to have Jacob’s body dumped in the Wastelands. “No one will find him there,” she said.

  The Wastelands. What a perfect place to hide the mistakes of my love life. No one would ever know I had killed yet another boyfriend.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I awoke, I don’t know how much later, in a small dark room. A single window, high above my head, let in the sun and illuminated my surroundings. Not that there was much to see. The room was small as a walk-in closet with stark white walls, its only furnishing a cot that squeaked more than a mouse. The steel door proved to be locked, and the window was barred. Escape was not an option. I would have to cut through at least four bars to make a space large enough for me to pass through. Athena probably wouldn’t leave me in one place long enough to accomplish such a time intensive task—from the history I sensed in the room, no one stayed long. Fortunately, I didn’t get any feedback that said people died in the room, just a lot of waiting and staring up at the window in fear. No, there was nothing to do but wait and hope someone made a mistake.

  And pray they made it soon.

  My astral rapist still had Vera. Jacob’s body was lying somewhere in the Wastelands, and the dragons were about to, not only be evicted from Fairy, but attempt to invade and take over the human world. Not to mention the zombies that were on the loose all over Boston. For a lone psychic, my to-do list was getting pretty long. I wondered if Vera had seen my predicament in her scrying and, if she had, why hadn’t she given some warning? I would’ve at least tried to hide a cell phone on me somewhere, or a knife, or chocolate. Something…anything to make me feel less powerless.

  Aggravated, I sighed and pushed myself off the cot to pace the room. If Vera and I survived this, we were going to have a serious chat about her ‘don’t tell people their future’ rule. I couldn’t fathom how knowing what was coming could make it suck any less than it already did. It was one thing for her not to say anything about Mark, but if Mark had been the beginning of a long downhill run in my life, a good friend would’ve told me. If I had known I was going to become a serial boyfriend killer, I could’ve consigned myself to a nunnery before I did any more damage.

  Several hours later, I had paced all I could pace, sat on the cot until the squeaking made me want to claw my ears off, and settled Indian-style on the cool tile floor until my butt cheeks were numb. The light in the room slowly faded to a gray dusk, and, with the dark, came an oppressive silence. When the sun had shined, an occasional bird would twitter by, but now there was nothing but empty quiet and blind night that lulled me into a light sleep.

  Some time later, a loud metallic clang woke me. I jumped at the noise, my heart racing and looked wildly about trying to see through the inky black that pressed down on me. Footsteps sounded, heavy and full of purpose. I sat up, my breath stopped in my throat as they pounded closer and closer to stop outside my door. Metal screeched and something slid across the floor illuminated by a too-bright flashlight.

  It was a tray of food pushed in through a small slot in the bottom of the door. I caught a glimpse of a sandwich and a bottle of water before the metal divider was slammed down. The footsteps stomped off, leaving me to feel for the tray in the dark, bright spots dancing in my eyes from the sudden harsh light.

  I ate the sandwich, shoveling it down in a few big bites, barely tasting the turkey and Swiss cheese. The water I only sipped. There was no toilet in the room and, while I could pee in a corner if I had to, I would rather not. Sooner or later, someone would have to let me out to use the bathroom, at least I hoped so. I could’ve just dropped my shields and gone deeper into my cell’s history to find out for sure, but that meant learning every gory detail of what happened to the people before me, and I wasn’t ready to know the past that was about to be my future.

  The renegades might keep their activities a secret, but their scare tactics were always public. They were a violent, aggressive organization that pursued their interests with a tenacity that did not respect human life. If I wasn’t useful, if I posed more of a threat than a benefit, I had no doubt I would end up on the wrong side of a weapon and wash up on a sandy beach somewhere, green and bloated with rotting fluids. That was the picture I kept forcefully pushing from my mind. I didn’t really want to add anymore. Besides, using psychic abilities to divine whether or not I would be able to use a bathroom seemed a little…well, cheesy.

  Sandwich eaten, I lay back on the cot, holding myself as still as possible to keep the squeaking at a minimum. As the night deepened, the temperature dropped and a stiff wind swirled through the window, raising goose bumps on my skin. I rolled on my side, back against the wall, and put my hands between my knees to keep them warm. It promised to be a miserable night, and sleeping wasn’t going to improve things. Would the man who had Vera, come for me again? Had he killed her already? I stared out into the dark, wondering what nightmare would find me next, until I succumbed to fatigue.

  This time, there was no subtle invitation to come to the afterworld so much as a forcible eviction from my body into the astral plane. As before, he hid in the astral fog, face obscured, unrecognizable except for his voice.

  “Where are you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been kidnapped.”

  “Kidnapped?”

  “By renegades.”

  He laughed then, an annoying nasal whine. “Who took you?”

  “A woman named Athena.”

  “Tall, with short dark hair?”

  “Yes, that’s her.”

  “I know her. I’ll make arrangements to come get you.”

  His answer didn’t surprise me. I just looked at him, unable to imagine how this would be an improvement over my current predicament. “What about Vera. Is she….” I trailed off unable to finish.

  “Oh, she’s fine.” He spoke with such casual indifference that I didn’t believe him.

  “If you hurt her, I won’t cooperate.”

  He laughed again, shoulders shaking with the force of his amusement. “I don’t think you’re in a position to bargain, but I admire the effort. Now, I must go. I have business to attend to.” With that, he disappeared, leaving me to float aimlessly through the drab over world alone.

  Eyes closed, I cast about to see if I was as alone as I felt. I had run into others up here before. Psychics sometimes ‘dream walked’ in the astral plane, perhaps I could find someone to ask for help. Of course, help would be a complicated thing to arrange as, thanks to the zombie detective, I was probably listed as a wanted fugitive. Help might come, but with hand cuffs.

  Still, I would take hand cuffs over the renegades and Vera’s mystery kidnaper any day. Unless the cops were all zombies, in which case, I was well and truly fucked. If one zombie could pass for human, maybe they all could. Maybe we didn’t know as much as we thought we did about raising the dead.

  I lingered as long as I could on the astral plane, hoping someone would appear. It was my only shot at help, but I felt nothing around me. No spark of a kindred spirit, just a silent vacuum. The astral plane would offer no solutions to me tonight. As dawn approached, my conscious mind stirred, reaching to pull me back to my body.

  Sunbeams glowed red behind my eyelids and with a groan, I shielded my face from the morning sun and sat up. Heavy fatigue draped itself across my shoulders. Spending all night out of my body was pretty much the same as not sleeping at all. I rubbed my bleary eyes and stumbled to my feet to stretch.

  Just a few minutes later, the clash of steel-on-steel and more footsteps sounded. I stood still, hoping there was a bathroom in my future. Despite rationing my fluid intake, my bladder was full and peeing in a corner was looking really attractive. I held my breath as the steps came closer, praying the door would open and someone would take me to a bathroom.

  The universe must have been feeling benevolent that morning as the door swung open to reveal a compact, hulking man with jet black hair and a matching soul patch. A white T-shir
t strained to cover his bulging chest, and black jeans hung low on his waist so that the elastic waistband of his blue plaid boxers were visible. Without a word, he gestured for me to come forward with the crook of one sausage finger. I did as he indicated, and he led me down a Spartan hallway steering me with one large hand clamped on my wrist. We passed several steel doors like mine on the way to a damp, mildewed bathroom that didn’t look like it had been cleaned in a very long time. A circle of brown scum marked the waterline in the toilet bowl and a wet, fetid odor hung in the air. I’d seen cleaner bathrooms in bars.

  My escort shoved me inside and slammed the door behind me with a gruff, “Make it quick.”

  I did my best not to touch the toilet seat and to keep my clothes from making contact with the walls or floor. Like any good kidnap victim, I looked for a weapon or escape route, but found neither. The bathroom was a windowless room lit by a lone light bulb too high for me to reach. I even lifted off the lid to the toilet tank and examined the plumbing for any possible weapons, but everything was made of plastic and I was not a hotshot CIA agent with advanced skills in making weapons out of random plastic parts. Just a lousy, part-time psychic P.I.

  With a sigh, I washed my hands in the grime-coated sink and splashed my face with cold water. I was drying my face on my shirt when the door swung open and a hand clamped down on my wrist again to yank me back into the hallway. I blinked water out of my eyes and staggered, trying to find my feet before the guard ended up dragging me behind him like the proverbial cave man.

  Instead of going back to the ‘cell’, I was led to the end of the hallway and outside. The sun hit my eyes like a slap forcing me to squeeze them shut for several seconds while my pupils adjusted, all while continuing to trot behind my escort. When I could see again, I found myself walking through a large garden filled with trimmed shrubs and uneven cobblestone paths. I craned my head to see where I had come from. A barn with an attached squat, one-story building stood behind me. From the barred windows, I assumed I had been staying in that building. Up ahead, loomed a large Tudor mansion. I bet every room had a bathroom and a clean one at that.

  Soul Patch (as I christened him) took me to a side entrance in the Tudor manse. Pushing me in front of him, we marched through a kitchen decorated in black-and-white checkered tile, down a hall, and into an ornate sitting room. The floral patterned furniture, gilded ceiling, and plush electric blue carpet proved that money couldn’t buy taste. In the corner, an oak desk gleamed in the morning sun, and behind it, sat Athena, typing busily on a laptop, a cell phone wedged between her chin and shoulder.

  At her nod, Soul Patch, forced me down into a Queen Anne chair. Taking what looked to be a plastic garbage tie from his back pocket, he tied my arms behind me. Unable to lean back because of my hands, I had to perch on the very edge of the chair. Out of habit, I ‘read’ the chair and immediately wished I hadn’t. Oh it was a genuine antique and in great condition, but along with that information, poured in the impressions of everyone else who had sat in my place. None of them had been happy. Scared and terrified, yes, but never happy. It did not bode well for me. I took a breath, pulling my energy back until I had broken the connection.

  Athena looked me up and down, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Speak of the devil, she’s right her sitting in front of me.” She paused, listening. “No, don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on her. A few days is not an inconvenience at all, I understand why you would want to wait.

  Noticing me listening, she turned her back and conducted the rest of the conversation in a hoarse whisper. All I caught before she said goodbye was, “What an interesting surprise. Be sure to let me know how she takes it.”

  Clicking the cell phone shut with a flick of her wrist, Athena stood and stalked over to me—her high-heeled boots made anything so mundane as walking impossible. She leaned down, crystal blue eyes searching my dark ones. “I have good news for you, you’ve already been sold.”

  “Sold?” To whom? My astral stalker? What if I went to the wrong person? Then Vera would have no chance of rescue. Just when it seemed nothing else could possibly go wrong, it did. Amazing how that kept happening to me. Not to mention depressing.

  Athena mistook my reaction and said, “What did you think? I was going to bring you back to dump you in a shallow grave? For a psychic you’re pretty thick. If I wanted you dead, I would’ve left you in the Wastelands with lover boy. But you’re much more valuable alive. Psychics are in short supply. Besides, you’re no threat to me…so long as one of my contacts is in control of your fate.”

  Gripping my elbow with a sharp manicured hand, Athena pulled me out of the chair. “Come. I want to show you around.”

  Walking in tandem, we left the sitting room and passed through the kitchen again to a door that, when opened, revealed steps leading down to a cool, gray basement. Rows of fluorescent lights lined the ceiling casting their harsh light down on a beehive of activity. Long tables covered with phones, computers, and paperwork lined the perimeter of the basement. People, regular humans, no Sidhe or other magical species that I could tell, ran to-and-fro, frantic concentration on their faces. Loud conversations about trucking and shipping filled the air punctuated with irate swear words when, apparently, things weren’t going as planned.

  Athena pulled me off to the side, out of the fray. With a wave of her arm she said, “This is my operations center. Everyone,” she raised her voice and the people in the room paused for a nanosecond. “This is Sofia. Our newest renegade asset. Sofia, this is where the fate of the human race is determined.”

  “What? I’m not a renegade.” I looked at Athena in disbelief, absently noting that several people had responded to Athena’s announcement with a “Welcome Sofia.” Pretty friendly for a known criminal group.

  She laughed. “Yes, you are. You just haven’t accepted it yet.” She guided me to a small room in the far corner filled with piles of scrap metal that smelled of damp rust. A small, wizened man with a hook nose and silver hair sprouting everywhere except from his bald head hunched over a desk, tinkering with a strip of aluminum.

  “Fred,” Athena said softly, her voice cajoling.

  Fred jumped at the sound of her voice and whipped around to look up at us through thick glasses in unflattering black frames. “Miss Athena? Is that you?” Magnified eyes in a rheumatic blue blinked at us.

  “Yes, mage. It’s me and I’ve brought a friend.” Athena pushed me forward. “This is Sofia. Our newest renegade.”

  “You’ll be wanting a collar then.” Fred turned his back on us and rummaged through the scraps of twisted metal on his desk.

  “You read my mind.”

  Fred snickered, seeming pleased with himself. “I always know what you want.”

  “That you do.”

  “Ah, here’s the one.” A gnarled hand thrust a jumble of metal at us.

  Athena took it and gave it a shake, unraveling it into a long, wide linked chain with a purple stone set in the center. It was pretty in a sort of techno-goth fashion. “Perfect.” She turned to me and swept my hair to the side, moving to wrap the chain around my neck. When I ducked, trying to avoid the inevitable, she didn’t hesitate to claw a hand through my hair and hold me still by the scalp. Tears of pain gathered in my eyes and, when she released me after latching the chain around my neck, she had to shake several strands of my hair off her hand. At this rate, I would be as bald as Fred soon.

  I swallowed, my throat pushing against the cold metal and rotated my head trying to accustom myself to the weight constricting around my neck. The thing easily weighed more than a pound, its mass triggering a choking sensation.

  “It’s a perfect fit, “ Athena said. “Do you mind activating it now, Fred?”

  “Not at all.” He stood and scurried over, hands reaching for me. Fred only came up to my waist and Athena pushed me down so he could touch my neck. Heat surged from his hands to the metal until I felt like I had stuck my head in a hot oven. Under his breath, Fred chanted a
few words I didn’t recognize. Once he finished his spell, he smiled with satisfaction when sparks shot from my neck. A few of them landed on my skin causing me to hiss in pain.

  “There, you’ve gotten through the worst of it,” Athena said, pulling a large flip knife from her pocket. A quick move of her wrist and it clicked open, the steel blade gleaming in the light.

  With Athena advancing on me, knife out, I had difficulty believing her reassurance to be true. Nervous, I took a step back. It was futile, she was between me and the door and there was nowhere to run, but my fight-or-flight response demanded some kind of reaction

  Athena frowned at me. “I was going to cut your hands free. You don’t need to be restrained now that you’ve been collared, but if you want to stay tied up, that’s fine by me.”

  She moved to put the knife away, but stopped when I said, “No, wait. Cut me free.”

  “Say please.”

  “Please,” I mumbled, looking at the floor so she couldn’t see the bitterness in my eyes. I wanted to do anything but beg this woman for help.

  “Turn around.”

  I turned, shoulders tense, hoping she wasn’t planning on slipping the blade between my ribs. I also took the opportunity to read her and wished I hadn’t. Sure, she didn’t plan on killing me, but there was enough blood on her hands, I couldn’t count on her not to change her mind. Her personality gave a strong psychic imprint, and pictures of her victims flashed through my mind. She was wild and unpredictable and she liked blood, both in business and pleasure. I shuddered and shut her out as she sliced through the plastic handcuffs, yanking twice to get the knife through. Suddenly my hands were free, hanging loose at my sides.

  “Why did you let me go?” I asked examining the red welts the handcuffs had left. Soul Patch had cranked them pretty tight and I would most likely carry their mark for several days.

 

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