Touching Evil (The Leila Marx Novels Book 1)

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Touching Evil (The Leila Marx Novels Book 1) Page 15

by Amber Garr


  “Is that it?” I whispered.

  “According to Leanna it is,” replied Conner. “The grimoires should be in here.”

  I pushed my head over the opening to see a black metal box with a giant rotating lock on the front panel. Leanna had been helpful, but I was pretty sure she didn’t get the combination from her coven leader. I was about to ask how we get in when I remembered that was my job.

  “So, get to it girl,” said Mac, who positioned me over the safe.

  I grabbed his hand and not-so-gently pushed him away. Settling in on my knees, I tried to figure out what I was going to do. Conner looked at me and flashed a wicked grin that only confirmed my earlier suspicions about crime making him happy. And even though I knew in the back of my mind somewhere, that this was a crazy idea, I couldn’t help but feel the same adrenaline rush and excitement. It had been a while since I remembered feeling so reckless, and I shuddered with anticipation.

  The silent room filled with darkness now that the penlight had been turned off. I placed my hand on top of the lock and closed my eyes. The visions don’t always come on demand and I was skeptical this would work. For a few moments, nothing happened. I quickly realized that everyone was relying on me and I might fail. Shifting my position, I tried to block out all of the anxiety and concentrate on the task at hand. Soon the visions began. My hand rested on the lock and the metal contraption moved. I turned slowly, clicking at each end point. It was as though my hand was directly connected to the vision, operating on its own.

  The lock made a new sound like it had disengaged, and Mac let out a cheer.

  “Sweet.”

  I looked up at Conner and smiled. It worked. He put his hand around my waist and pulled me away from the opening and nearly onto his lap again. I felt his breath on my neck before his lips found my face. He brushed them ever so slightly around my ear eliciting chills along my entire body.

  “I knew you could do it,” he whispered. He kissed my cheek and moved away. I had a hard time remembering what I was getting praise for.

  Mac, oblivious to this exchange, pulled several leather bound books out of the safe and arranged them in a row. None of the books had titles on them announcing what they contained inside. I guess that’s what I had expected, why advertise that demon summoning spells are contained in here? With the penlight on again, Mac passed each book to Conner one at a time. Five different tomes fit into that tiny safe. With each book, Conner flipped through the pages and shook his head. He slammed the last book in his lap with obvious frustration.

  “It’s not here.”

  “What do you mean?” Mac asked in a loud whisper. “Did she lie to us?”

  Conner placed the final book back into the safe and proceeded to lock it, close the hatch, and rearrange the rug over the top before speaking again. He rubbed his face and sighed into his hands.

  “I don’t know. These were pretty well hidden. It would seem like a good place to store it.” He looked around the room at all of the shelves as if waiting for the right book to jump out at him. I followed his actions and wondered if maybe it was hiding in plain sight. Conner continued, “If you were a witch, where would you hide a dark magic grimoire?”

  I answered with the first thought that would compliment my previous stereotype. “In a basement.”

  The two men glanced at each other and shrugged in agreement. We were off to find a basement. The housing development plans that Mac had shown us in the parking lot did indicate there should be one in the house. The entrance loomed further down the hallway between a bathroom and another bedroom. The door opened with a creak as the musty, damp smell of basement seeped out. Knowing this wasn’t part of the original plan, I couldn’t help but think we were the idiots going into a basement like the victims always do in the movies. The ones that don’t make it to the end. Maybe I watched too many movies.

  Once again, Mac led the way. The wooden steps groaned under our weight and the thin hand rail made me nervous. When I reached the bottom, I froze. Not only was it completely black down here, but a creepy sensation surrounded me. I got goose bumps, shivers ran down my spine, and a coldness chilled me to the bone.

  Someone touched me. I jumped away so quickly I nearly toppled over the stairs. Trying not to make any noise, I did my best to control my body.

  “Are you okay?” Conner asked. His hand reached toward me, made visible only by the small beam now coming from Mac’s penlight. I stood before he could touch me again.

  “I’m fine,” I answered curtly. How many more embarrassing things could I do tonight? “Let’s just find it and get out of here.”

  I pushed past Conner and walked over to Mac who moved the light methodically over more bookshelves full of potential candidates. Not knowing what we were looking for, I decided to let the boys search and I’d wait until I could be useful.

  A large table in the middle of the room had more books piled up on one side. I couldn’t see very far, but it looked like there were other objects on there as well. Maybe a candelabra and some dishes? I wasn’t sure. But what I did pick up on was the smell. Burnt things. Like old wax, hair, fabric, and something I couldn’t identify.

  I felt along the edge of the table so I could walk around to the other side. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness a little, but I still couldn’t see the floor. Hand over hand, I shuffled my way to the other side. Mac and Conner were having a silent conversation filled with hand signals. Perhaps they’d found something and we could get out of here. This place was giving me bad vibes and the closer I got to the objects on the table, the stronger they felt.

  On the opposite side of the room, Mac’s penlight was rendered useless. My shin knocked against something soft and low to the ground, and I stumbled away from the table in an attempt to catch my balance. I doubted I would ever be invited to a break-in again.

  My arms flailed and my shin felt wet. I hopped on my left foot to avoid the obstacle on the floor and suddenly felt my fingers brush the wall. Leaning in that direction, I placed my whole hand against it to brace myself…and instead kept on falling.

  With no chance of recovery, I tumbled headfirst into the hole and crashed to my knees. Dust swirled around and I smelled something that reminded me of a crawl space. In fact, that’s exactly what this was. No bigger than a utility closet, it hid underneath the stairs. I’d fallen through a trap door camouflaged from the world amiss a barrage of wood paneling. Built to hide secrets.

  I looked out the opening expecting to see my two accomplices glaring back, but instead saw them standing over the obstacle I tripped on.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A body,” Mac replied.

  A what? I immediately crawled back to the secret entrance and tried to see what he was talking about.

  Lying before us was an older woman on her side in a puddle of blood. In the limited light, I could see her wrists and forearms had been slashed and her pants were darkened where the blood had pooled. But that was not the injury that killed her. When Mac moved his light toward her shoulders, I gasped in disgust. Her head had been nearly severed from her body and the deep, gaping wound was the obvious source of all that blood.

  “Oh no,” I breathed. This must be the coven leader, a powerful witch unable to protect herself in her own home. How could this happen?

  “Did you smell it?” Mac was asking Conner.

  “No, not until now.”

  Mac sniffed in a long deep breath. “Preservation.” Conner nodded in agreement.

  “What’s preservation mean?” I asked without realizing I wanted to know.

  “A witch spell used to cover scent and to make a body stop decomposing. She’s probably been dead for a couple of days,” Mac answered.

  The two men continued inspecting the woman but I had to turn away. I shifted until I was back in the tiny space, distancing myself as much as possible. Maybe I could just stay in here a while.

  I looked around the room and noticed something. I stood quickly and walked toward the
object which looked like a music stand. Sitting on the top, I barely made out the shape of a book. Excitement flitted through me and I knew this was what we’d been looking for.

  I heard shuffling behind me as I grabbed the book with anticipation. I turned toward the door, book in hand, eager to show them my find. But as soon as I took a step, I couldn’t breathe.

  Sixteen

  I thought I was dying. Suffocation is bad, but burning alive is much worse. And right at this moment, I felt like I was burning. I had no control over my body. Pain and fear overwhelmed me and although I tried to scream, my mouth didn’t move. My knees wobbled but I didn’t fall. It was like being trapped in a bubble of fire, tortured and punished with no hope of escape. Images of women, men, death and destruction flew through my head, complimented by intense pain. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t concentrate.

  How much more could I bear? A pair of red eyes caught my attention. Evil eyes that hovered in front of my face. A mirage of a man began to appear before me and I knew I had to be hallucinating. The majority of the figure remained translucent, but his face became corporal. My paralyzed and burning body tried to react and that only seemed to excite the man. The corners of his mouth turned up in appreciation and he tilted his head.

  “Yessssss,” he drawled. “You can see me. You can feel me.”

  In the next moment he moved so quickly I didn’t notice his hand rush up to my throat. Squeezing tight, his long, sharp nails dug into my flesh. I should have been concerned but was instead distracted by the rough tongue running up the side of my cheek.

  “Mmm.” Warm breath caressed my jaw. “Tasty.” Just as suddenly, he stepped away from me, yet still within the wall of fire that trapped us. “I could find so many suitable tasks for you…”

  His threat was cut off when a figure pushed through his semi-transparent body and slammed into mine. The book flew out of my hand and before we hit the ground, and I could breathe again. The bubble disappeared. The burning and the pain disappeared. I could move my hands and wiggle my feet, but I couldn’t speak.

  A hand covered my mouth and the body on top of me stiffened. The dampness and darkness of the room besieged my senses as I tried to orientate myself. Opening my eyes, I glimpsed a man standing in the doorway I had fallen through.

  I turned my head to see Conner on top of me staring back. He removed his hand and placed a finger over his lips, telling me to keep quiet. Looking back toward the opening, I witnessed Mac peering out into the basement, body on alert.

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  “Shh.” Conner hushed me then moved his mouth closer to my ear. “Someone’s inside the house.”

  I tried to sit up, but Conner wouldn’t let me move. My breathing increased and my heart thudded, getting faster as I realized he could probably hear it. I thought I could hear it too. Conner looked down at me. His red eyes glowed and his face contained sharp angles and lines that hardened his features. Without thinking, I started to struggle. I didn’t mean to be frightened, but it was an honest reaction that didn’t escape his notice.

  He immediately dropped his head and let out a long breath. I reached forward to touch his shoulder so he would look at me again. This time when he did, his face was back to normal and I felt guilty for my earlier reaction. I mouthed the words I’m sorry to him and supplemented it with puppy dog eyes and a small grin. That earned me a nod and he turned his attention back to the doorway.

  The sound of cautious footsteps shuffling on the stairs shocked me back into reality. Someone was in the house and they were descending into the basement. A loud creak cut through the silence and the intruder stopped, obviously aware of the noise they had created.

  Mac crouched down with us. “I’ll take care of this.”

  And in a blink, he was gone. Not gone, as in he ran away, but just gone. Disappeared out of thin air without so much as a sound. I must have tried to move again, because Conner sat on the floor next to me and pulled me against him.

  “Stay still, Leila. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I don’t think I was worried about that. I was too immersed in Mac’s disappearing act and in remembering the red-eyed thing that had filled my vision. Scuffling above our heads brought our attention to the stairs. Muffled voices argued in a loud whisper. Just a few exchanges before they went silent again. With an air displacing pop, Mac appeared before us.

  “It’s okay. It’s just Gallus, but we have to go now.” He pulled both of us off the ground in one simple motion. “Apparently Leila set off some kind of supernatural alarm when she touched that book.”

  “He could sense that?” Conner asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. And so could the rest.” He moved toward the door leading the way out. “We need to get out of here before anyone else notices.”

  “But what about the pictures?” I wasn’t going through all of this only to lose our chance to save Angela. Mac swore under his breath, but grabbed the grimoire and placed it back on the stand.

  “Conner?” Mac asked for his help.

  I didn’t need to touch that thing again and I certainly didn’t want to get any closer to it. Conner could find the pages that contained the spell for summoning the demon. Is that what I saw? I suddenly put two and two together to recognize that the man in my vision looked strikingly similar to a half demon I knew. The eyes and the teeth- a part of Conner that he didn’t want to show anymore. Could he torture people like that? Make them feel like they were burning alive?

  I started to hyperventilate. Turning to the men hurriedly taking pictures of an ancient spellbook, I hoped that they were too preoccupied to sense my sudden attack. The gravity of the past few days crashed down on me. I was a children’s book illustrator who would occasionally see things others couldn’t. I wasn’t a supernatural crime fighter with impeccable strength, burglary skills, and a tolerance for dead bodies. My world had changed as abruptly as it had the night Russ was killed. Everything I’d grown accustomed to and graciously accepted was torn away. My sense of reality twisted and along with it, my sense of comfort. A single tear trickled down my face, I didn’t even know I was crying. This was simply too much for me right now.

  I stood and walked out of the clandestine cubby-hole, over the coven leader, and ran smack into Gallus. He grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him, against the wall. Without speaking, he quite succinctly relayed the message. I was to stay right there.

  A few more minutes passed and I anxiously tapped my feet together while chewing on my fingernails again. It was a bad habit that I broke many years ago, or so I thought. I was about to start in on my left hand when Conner and Mac stepped out into the basement and closed the secret door. Head bobs all around confirmed we were good to go. Gallus started up the stairs followed by myself and Conner. Nearly to the top, I was startled to see Mac on the landing above waving us through. He must have done that disappearing act again.

  “What about the body?” I asked.

  “We leave it,” Gallus answered briskly. I stopped moving so he continued. “We’ll make an anonymous call to the police.” I guessed it was the best we could do, and since I didn’t see any other solution that wouldn’t put us in jeopardy, I didn’t argue.

  We made it up the stairs and out the patio door without incident but also without hesitation. When the fence was within a few feet, Gallus turned around and picked me up like a toddler. One arm wrapped around my waist with the rest of my body pressed up against his left hip. Before I could be uncomfortable, we were airborne. In one swift motion, he jumped the fence in a much more no-nonsense way than when I was tossed over earlier in the evening. The landing was a bit rough but surprisingly quiet. Two more silent thumps quickly followed behind ours just as I was knocked to the ground.

  “I can take care of her myself,” Conner growled at Gallus. “She is my responsibility, not yours.” He stood on the uphill side of the yard, which put him at chin height with the tall vampire.

  Gallus didn’t flinch, but he didn’t
challenge him either. He simply stated, “Then do it,” before turning and running away in a blur of speed.

  Mac gave me a hand up off the ground. “Leave it alone. He meant well,” he directed at Conner who had yet to remove his glare from the direction of Gallus’ exit. His posture stiffened and his hands balled into fists by his side. I could see his nostrils flaring in an attempt to calm himself. Trying to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible, I started back toward the parking lot on my own.

  “Relax, Conner. I am no one’s responsibility and I can take care of myself.”

  I didn’t turn when Mac scoffed a response, nor did I turn to see if Conner had snapped out of it. We were finished and I felt tired. It was time to go home.

  But home would have to wait a little longer. We all sat around a table in the back corner of a fifty’s styled diner. Leanna, Atticus, and King joined us shortly after we arrived. Terez and Elise were absent, but the others assured me we would fill them in later. Conner was in the restroom “cleaning up” as he claimed, and since I sat next to King who smelled an awful lot like a wet dog, I hoped he would do the same. After the first ten minutes, I accepted that wasn’t going to happen.

  Coffee, tea, and hot chocolate filled mugs covered the table. I was exhausted but had ordered the hot chocolate to forgo the caffeine and rely on the sugar to keep me moving instead. Conner slid into the seat across from me with Gallus and Mac on his side. Leanna sat at the head of the table and although Atticus was directly on my left, he’d pulled his chair closer to Leanna and further away from King and me. At first I’d been offended, but then thought he could probably smell the werewolf too. Leanna and Mac continued having a circular argument that dominated the conversation.

  “Let me see them, Mac,” she demanded.

  “Not until we have everyone. That was the plan and no matter how many times you ask, I’m not going to change my mind.”

  She looked expectantly at Atticus. “Well, are you going to help or not?”

 

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