Crushed (City of Eldrich Book 2)

by Laura Kirwan

  John held her close and let her cry. When she began to calm down a little, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed, then stepped away.

  “Oh, hell,” she sniffled. “Get me the box of tissues from the bathroom, will you?” She pulled herself up into a sitting position. “And then get over here and sit with me. Please?”

  He beamed at her and ducked into the bathroom. A moment later, he reappeared with the tissue box. Meaghan plumped up the pillows against the headboard and leaned back, patting the bed next to her.

  John snuggled in beside her. He held his arm out and she curled up against his chest. She grabbed a tissue from the box and blew her nose.

  “I guess I should be grateful for this stupid love spell,” Meaghan said. “I must look like crap. I didn’t sleep last night, and I had to crawl through a mucky tunnel, and my nose is all runny and . . .”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “That’s the magic talking.”

  “Nah. I always think that. The magic has been doing . . . other things to me.” He laughed and his cheeks grew pink. “You heard me talking to Natalie?”

  Meaghan giggled, feeling a bit better. “Yeah, I think I got the general idea.”

  “I’m better now. Tell me what is happening before we go downstairs.”

  “Did Natalie tell you about last night?”

  John sighed. “All she talks about is Jhoro. And my . . . problem. I didn’t know there was anything between them. He likes men.”

  Meaghan snorted. “Turns out he likes everybody. But there’s nothing between him and Natalie. It’s Marnie he’s been sleeping with. She’s the one who cast the love spell to try to get him to forget Finn and love her instead.”

  “The witch who cuts hair? Did it work?”

  “Yeah, the witch who cuts hair. And no, it didn’t work. At least not the way she wanted. He’s so heartsick over Finn, he’s falling apart.”

  “Good. He needs to feel his pain and get past it. Or he’ll end up like me. Drinking his life away for years and years.” John pulled her closer. “I’m going to AA every day.”

  “Even today?”

  “Morning meeting. I promised Terry.”

  “Is he your sponsor?”

  John nodded. “Yeah. He’s away from here today. He and his wife are on the motorcycle somewhere.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “I don’t know. He fixes things. Big guy, red hair, beard?”

  Meaghan thought about it a moment. “He does repair work?”

  “Yeah, whatever needs to be done.”

  Meaghan nodded. “I think I’ve seen him working around city hall.”

  “You’ll see more of him soon. Terry and Steph—his wife—they bought the house across the street a couple of weeks ago. They move in when they get back from the motorcycle ride.”

  She felt warm and safe chatting like this with him, but she had to stay focused. “Did Natalie tell you about Jamie? About last night?”

  He stiffened. “What? What has happened?”

  “You know he’s been having a really hard time.”

  “I talk to Patrice all the time. She wants him to talk to me, but he won’t. Those marks the wizards put on him, they frighten her.”

  “With good reason. He beat her up last night.”

  John sat upright and stared at Meaghan in shock. “He did what? Did he hurt her bad?”

  “Black eye, cut lip, some bruises on her arms. But he hurt himself a lot worse. Do you know what a poltergeist is?”

  John shook his head.

  “It’s a . . . like a ghost, but it’s not. I don’t know how to explain it. Basically, the stress of what happened, stress he’s not dealing with, is causing him to throw stuff around with his mind. He’s also breaking windows and setting things on fire.”

  “Does he mean to do this?”

  “No. No, it’s an involuntary reaction. We think it has something to do with the effects of city hall and those things they carved on him.”

  John buried his face in his hands. “My poor boy. I should have tried harder to make him talk to me.”

  Meaghan put her arm around John and held him. “It’s not your fault. It’s those damn wizards. Whatever it is they did to him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “They took him to the hospital in Williamsport.”

  John tried to stand up. “My truck’s outside. Let’s go.”

  She pulled him back down. “He’s not there anymore. He’s in city hall. But there’s good news. At least I think it’s good. We thought the wizards were keeping him there, that they had control of him. They don’t. He’s keeping them out. He’s fighting them. And doing a really good job of it, from what I’ve heard.”

  “We need to get to him.”

  “Yeah,” Meaghan said. “I agree with you. But first we have to get everybody’s head straight and see if we can confirm that Jamie’s . . .”

  “Still Jamie,” John said.

  Meaghan nodded. She was so exhausted she could barely think straight.

  He brushed his hand across her cheek, worry in his eyes. “You need to rest. Stay here. I’ll go downstairs and find out what we need to do.”

  “I don’t have time to—”

  “Only a nap,” he said. “I’ll wake you before too long.” He smiled at her. “Trust me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  When Meaghan woke, the room was dark. She fumbled for the clock. It was after ten. She’d been asleep for almost six hours.

  She stretched, climbed out of bed, and went into the bathroom, still groggy but feeling better.

  The seat was up and she nearly fell into the toilet. Swearing, she put the seat back down where it belonged. It had been so long since she’d shared a bathroom with a man she never checked anymore.

  No nightmares for once. This time Meaghan could only remember one dream. Featuring John. She felt her cheeks grow hot. This time they were in the backseat of Edna’s Crown Vic, steaming up the windows.

  Good thing he didn’t try to wake me up then, she thought. So much for only a nap. That liar.

  Unless he hadn’t been able to get back upstairs.

  Suddenly wide awake, Meaghan made her way with care to the door and eased it open. There was a glow of light coming from the stairs and the murmur of voices. No yelling. It sounded like a convivial family gathering.

  Meaghan crept down the hall. She heard Russ laughing and then Natalie joined in. Whatever was going on, it didn’t sound like a crisis. She exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

  She stopped in the hallway bathroom and looked in the mirror with a grimace. With wet hands, she patted her hair down a little, then gave up. She followed it with a swish of mouthwash. She’d have to take John at his word that he always found her beautiful because this was as good as things were going to get under the circumstances.

  Maybe they sorted everything out while I was asleep. Even as she thought it, Meaghan realized how unlikely that was. But she felt clearer and stronger. Time to find out what had actually happened.

  “There’s our Sleeping Beauty,” Russ cooed when she walked into the kitchen. The table normally sat six, but Russ had brought in folding chairs from the garage and somehow squeezed ten people around it. And they all seemed to be getting along with each other. Even Jhoro was smiling.

  Meaghan made eleven. “What’s going on?”

  Russ, who was sitting next to John, stood up and offered her his chair. “Dinner. I’ll get you a plate.”

  “Thanks, but I meant what’s going on with everything else?”

  “Sit down and we’ll tell you.” Russ moved to the stove.

  Meaghan took John’s hand. “You said you’d wake me up.”

  John smiled. “I lied.”

  Meaghan looked around the table. Several people had wine glasses in front of them. Dropping her voice, she said, “You okay with the drinking going on?”

  “So far. But I never liked
wine that much. If they start drinking gin, we may have a problem.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. If it gets bad I can call Terry.”

  She nodded. Addressing the full group, Meaghan said, “So, tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’ll go first,” Russ said. “You were right. I’m not gay.”

  Everybody laughed.

  “How’d you figure that out?” Meaghan asked.

  “I helped him with that,” Ruth said. “First I asked him, ‘Have you had sex with men?’ and he said no. Then I asked him, ‘Do you want to have sex with men?’ and he said no. And then I said, ‘Honey, you’re not gay. It’s not like catching a cold or deciding to be a vegetarian.’”

  Everybody laughed again, Russ the loudest.

  Russ nodded. “That was all I needed to hear.”

  “So, is the spell gone?” Meaghan asked.

  “No,” Russ said. “It’s still there, but we all can kind of see around it now. Something Eliot did. I still think Jhoro’s a total hottie, but in a straight, aesthetic sort of way. I can appreciate him without . . . you know . . . wanting to do him.”

  He brought Meaghan’s dinner to her—one of her favorites, meatloaf with bacon on top—and then nudged Annie. “Move over, cutie. Let me get a cheek in.”

  Annie giggled while Russ squeezed in next to her on the chair. “Good thing you got such a tight little bottom, mister.”

  “The spell’s still working,” Eliot said, “but, around here at least, it’s more appropriately directed.”

  Meaghan nodded. “Annie, if he asks you to marry him, say no. He’s been busy planning his big gay wedding.”

  Now Brian laughed the loudest, then choked on his wine. Jhoro reached over and thumped him on the back. Natalie was sitting on the opposite side of the table. She wasn’t laughing, but she wasn’t giving Brian the stink eye or Jhoro the come-hither looks anymore, either.

  “Thanks,” Brian said to Jhoro when he finally caught his breath. “Russ wanted me to be best man. I said only if I could kick the other groom’s ass first.” Brian looked at Meaghan, now serious. “Thank you for taking my gun away. This could have ended very badly.”

  “You’re welcome. What about Marnie and Jamie?”

  Eliot shook his head. “No word on your lost witch yet. I can . . . feel her out there somewhere, but I can’t get a fix on her.”

  “Can you tell if she’s okay?”

  Eliot’s face screwed up in frustration. “She’s alive. I know that. But, there’s . . . something blocking the signal.”

  Meaghan felt a cold lump in her gut. “Something that feels wrong.”

  “Yeah,” Eliot said, nodding. “I wish could be more precise than that, but yeah.”

  “You’re not close enough to it,” Meaghan said, glancing at Sid. “The Order calls it the Power.”

  If it was possible for someone with royal blue skin to turn pale, Sid managed it.

  John’s eyes narrowed. He gripped Meaghan’s hand tighter. “That thing that took my brother. Now it wants my son.”

  Meaghan pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. “The Power is merely the warm-up act. It works for things that are even worse that are trying to get into our world. Finn told me in a dream I had when I fell asleep in the car out in the forest. He said Marnie’s the sacrifice and Jamie’s the conduit.”

  At the sound of Finn’s name, Jhoro perked up. He leaned over to Sid, who whispered something to him. Jhoro nodded, his smile gone.

  “Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Natalie sounded more like herself than she had all day.

  “I didn’t get the chance. I woke up and there were new people and then we got home and . . . I was so tired I couldn’t think straight.”

  “You weren’t the only one not thinking straight.” Natalie stared down at her plate, obviously embarrassed. “Can you think straight now?”

  Meaghan nodded. “What do we know about Jamie? Is he . . . still Jamie?”

  John smiled. “That’s the best news. We spoke with him.”

  “You . . . How the hell did you do that?” Meaghan glanced at Eliot. “Some kind of spell?”

  Natalie shook her head. “We called him. On the phone.” She looked sheepish. “The cell service was all screwed up from the magic even if he had his phone, which he doesn’t, but I was so . . .”—she rolled her eyes—“stupid it never occurred to me to try the landline.”

  “Where did you find him?”

  “It took a while, but he’s in Emily’s office. I called around the building until I got lucky. He recognized the number on the caller ID and picked up.”

  “What’s he doing in there?” Meaghan asked.

  “Emily has so many protection spells around her office that when he blew the windows on his way into the building, her windows stayed intact. Plus she’s got a nice comfy sofa in there.” Natalie laughed. “He knows how much it will piss her off when this is all over, which amuses him.”

  “But last night . . .” Meaghan shook her head. “You didn’t see him. He was out of his mind with fear. Suicidal. He beat himself up way worse than he did Patrice. What changed?”

  “They shot him up with lorazepam,” Eliot said. “It’s commonly used in hospital settings for short-term treatment of severe anxiety, delirium, aggression—for short-term sedation. It usually makes the patient dopey, but in rare cases, it can have paradoxical reactions.”

  “Meaning even more anxiety and aggression?” Meaghan asked.

  “Anxiety, aggression, loss of impulse control, restlessness, violence, manic behavior . . .”

  “How’s it affecting Jamie?”

  Eliot grimaced. “In Jamie’s case . . . magic and pharmaceuticals don’t mix well. The magic they’re trying to manipulate him with amped up some of the drug’s paradoxical effects and—”

  “He’s freaking Superman,” Russ said. “Psycho-kinetically, at least. And he’s really—”

  “Tweaky,” Natalie finished.

  “Tweaky?” Meaghan asked.

  “Speedy,” Brian said. “You know. Like a jackrabbit on meth. A really talkative jackrabbit on meth.”

  Meaghan nodded. “I’m getting a mental picture. But is he okay? How long will this drug keep working and how long can he handle its effects?”

  Eliot frowned. “He’s okay for now. On his way out of the hospital, he used his brand new superpowers to bust into the drug room and grab a couple of bottles and some syringes. I told him what I knew about dosage, although who knows how the magic will affect that. But he can’t keep going at this pace for more than a couple of days. Even a young man’s heart will falter under too much strain.”

  “So we can’t wait out the Order,” Meaghan said, feeling the worry rush back in. “And we still don’t know how to neutralize those sigils in a way that won’t eventually cause a heart attack. Or a drug overdose.”

  Eliot nodded. “The good news is the lorazepam seems to be interfering with the black magic—they aren’t controlling him at the moment—but we need a better solution.”

  Owen finally spoke up. “I’ve got some feelers out to see if we can figure out what the Order’s up to. They came for Jamie at the hospital and chased him all the way back into town.”

  “How’d he get back here?”

  “Stole a car,” Brian said.

  “Borrowed a car,” Natalie said, giving Brian a look.

  He smiled at her. “Thanks for the clarification. Jamie borrowed a car.”

  “Why’d he pick city hall?” Meaghan asked.

  “The poltergeist activity he’d been manifesting was a lot stronger in city hall,” Annie said. “And he said a Fahrayan came to him in a vision and told him to get there as fast as he could. To make his stand.”

  “Finn?”

  “Yeah,” Russ said, glancing at Jhoro who was staring at his plate.

  No one spoke for a long moment. Meaghan sighed. Everyone, she knew, was waiting for her to come up with a plan. I’m the least powerful person here, but I’m supposed to have all the ans
wers.

  “So,” she finally said. “What’s happening to the rest of the town, love spell wise?”

  “Good question,” Ruth said. “Anybody want to go for a drive around town and see what’s happening?”

  “Can we get near city hall without alerting the Order?”

  Ruth nodded. “If we take the magic bus. Eliot’s tricked it out with all kinds of protective magic. They’ll only be able to detect us with their eyes, and to them, we’ll look like harmless civilians. That might be our way into city hall. Somebody makes a distraction and I can pull up right—”

  “Why don’t we use the secret entrance?” Annie asked. “We’ll go back in the way Meaghan and I got out.”

  “You are such a clever woman,” Russ said, with a big grin on his face.

  Not the tunnel. Meaghan tried not to cringe. The wizards would be preferable to that damn tunnel. “Let’s go for a ride in the magic bus and see what’s going on before we go busting into city hall. But first, I want to talk to Jamie.”

  Natalie handed her the phone. “Hit star sixty-nine. That will take you to Emily’s office.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jamie picked up on the second ring. “Nat?”

  “It’s Meaghan.”

  “Meaghan?” He took a ragged breath and said in a rush, “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole since we got back.” Before she could say anything, he continued. “I never thanked you for saving me. You came and got me. You said you would and you did and I never said thanks because I was so busy feeling sorry for myself and it wasn’t only you—”

  “Breathe, okay? You’re welcome. You’re forgiven. It’s all good.”

  He took another ragged breath. “No. It’s not all good. I . . . how do I make things right with Patrice? After what I did to her?”

  “You get better,” Meaghan said, feeling her eyes fill with tears. The phone was corded—the only corded home phone Meaghan had seen in years—to better function in the presence of big magic. “Hang on a sec.” The long cord stretched enough to let her move into the powder room in the hall and shut the door if she sat on the floor. “Okay.”

  “Where are you?” he asked. “It sounds like a party.”