Crushed (City of Eldrich Book 2)
Page 22
“Which gives us another hour of cover.” Meaghan stood up. “Time to go. We need to get a look at city hall and the square. See what’s going on outside. We’ll have to create our own diversion.” She looked at Annie. “You think the ghosts can help us if you get close enough to talk to them?”
Annie got to her feet, a wan smile on her face. “Only one way to find out.” She turned to Natalie. “C’mon, Little Orphan Annie. Shake those orange curls. We got wizards to fight.”
They left an IOU on the fridge and headed out into the night, Meaghan in the lead. Once she’d recovered from the blast she’d gotten from Jamie and Marnie, Meaghan realized that whatever psychic power she had this time was merely an echo of what she’d experienced in Fahraya. She could feel strong emotion around her, but she couldn’t pinpoint it.
Which made her feel better about her ongoing inability to sense Jhoro. In Fahraya, he’d felt like a roaring fire, but, assuming he was still alive, his energy was now lost in the crowd.
“You feel anything?” Natalie asked in a whisper as they crept down Iron Street toward the square.
Meaghan shook her head. “It’s only noise. No help at all.”
“That blast from Jamie and Marnie . . .” Natalie grabbed Meaghan’s arm to stop her, a look of cautious hope on her face. “Is there a chance you got it wrong?”
From the back of the line, Annie whispered, “Got what wrong? Why are we stopping?”
“Jamie and Marnie,” Natalie said. “Are you sure about them?”
Meaghan sighed. “I’m not sure about any of this. But, as much as I wish I was wrong, I wasn’t. That blast was clear. I think whatever Owen did to me was temporary and it’s already wearing off. So now I have no power again.”
Annie scowled. “Yes, you do. They can’t bullshit you, remember?”
“Not with magic, no, but I’m as flammable as anybody else.” Meaghan began moving down the sidewalk. “C’mon. We need to get in there before the sun comes up.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
They made it halfway to Main Street. The dimly lit square lay a block ahead.
Then hands reached out of the darkness and yanked them to the ground.
Meaghan felt a rough palm clamp over her mouth. She felt a flare of panic followed immediately by a wave of rage. With adrenaline-fueled strength, she kicked out hard, making contact with flesh. Her attacker rolled off her with a groan.
She scrambled to her feet, then heard a male voice gasp, “Dude, we’re on your side.”
Meaghan looked around. She saw Natalie lying on top of somebody, kissing him frantically. Annie was crouched by the sidewalk, her hand over her heart, nodding at the small figure standing next to her.
Meaghan looked down at her attacker.
Nate, the tattooed co-proprietor of Eldrich Brew, lay curled in a ball on the grass, trying to get his breath back.
“Nate? What are you doing here?” Meaghan crouched next to him. “You okay?”
“No,” he whimpered. “You got me right in the ’nads. Gimme a minute.” He drew in another ragged breath. “God, that hurt. Never sneaking up on you again.”
“What are you doing here?”
Meaghan jumped at the sound of the annoyed voice behind her and turned her head.
Sid stood with his hands on his hips. His clothes were torn and dirty, but he looked otherwise unharmed. “Why aren’t you in city hall? Didn’t you get to the historical society?”
“We did,” Meaghan said. “The tunnel was blocked. Owen got through, but we had to turn back.”
“The leprechaun?” Sid hissed. “He’s in there with the wizards? You showed him the way in? You can’t trust him. Why can’t you see that?”
“Can’t trust him?” Meaghan’s rage, barely abated, rose up again. “He’s the only one lately I do trust. The only one who’s not keeping secrets from me.”
“Oh, he’s got secrets. Did he tell you why he’s such a different type of leprechaun, why the rest of them won’t have anything to do with him?” Sid looked furious.
“No,” Meaghan said. “He hasn’t told me the details yet because we haven’t had time. But he hasn’t tried to hide it from me.”
Sid shook his head. “You still don’t get it.”
“No, Sid, I don’t get it. Because no one will tell me the complete truth. Owen at least admits things are being kept from me. Which is more than you’ve ever done. And he’s answered every question with a minimum of bullshit.”
Shaking with anger, she turned back to Nate. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Can you stand up?”
He nodded and she helped him to his feet.
“What’s going on?” Meaghan peered over at Natalie, who was still kissing somebody on the ground. It was too dark to make out who it was. “Please tell me that’s not Jhoro.”
Nate shook his head. “Brian. Jhoro’s—”
“Brian? What’s he doing here?”
“Got his people copacetic in Williamsport and cruised back to help.”
“So where’s Jhoro?”
“Gone,” Sid said behind her, his voice shaking. “The mob took him. There were too many of them. Emily did her best to—”
“Emily? Did her best to what?” Meaghan grabbed Sid’s shoulder. “Kill him? Is she leading that mob?”
“No,” a soft voice said at her elbow. “I understand why you’d think that, but I tried to save him.”
Meaghan spun around and there stood Emily Procter, hater of all things Fahrayan and Meaghan’s nemesis.
“Em’s been great,” Nate said with a beaming smile. “Kicking ass and taking names.”
Emily gave him a nervous smile. “I put up some shield charms to make us a little less visible, but we need to keep our voices down and stay in the shadows.” She turned her attention to Meaghan. “You have no reason to trust me, I know.”
“You hate Fahrayans,” Meaghan hissed. “Remember? You started this whole mess.”
Emily nodded, her eyes shiny. “I did.”
Meaghan took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Emily had started the whole mess by helping the Order take Jamie, but she’d had her reasons, it turned out.
Adopted from foster care at age four by a couple who soon conceived another child, Emily had been eight years old when a band of rogue Fahrayans, still tiny and winged, had flown through the Eldrich gateway to raid. Seeing what he thought were fairies, Emily’s three-year-old brother followed them into the trees. Emily ran after him and found Toby being brutally attacked by a swarm of tiny flying men. She saved him, screaming and throwing rocks at the Fahrayans until they withdrew, but when her father arrived, all he saw was Emily standing over her bloody brother, a stone still in her hand.
Her story—that Toby had been set upon by vicious fairies and she’d chased them off—had been dismissed as a fantastical lie to cover up a violent jealousy-infused assault. When she stuck, adamantly, to her story, mental illness was assumed.
Emily’s terrified parents—faced with the prospect of raising a violent, mentally ill, adopted daughter who had already attacked their biological son—abandoned her at the hospital she’d been sent to for evaluation. Soon after, they terminated their parental rights and Emily was returned to foster care.
In Emily’s mind, the Fahrayans had stolen her family from her. She’d nursed a grudge for over thirty years. When Jamie came to work at city hall, Emily finally had a single focus for her rage and pain. For a long time, she limited her revenge to trying to make his work life miserable.
Until the Order approached her with warnings that Jamie intended to seize control of Fahraya and resume raiding in the human world. When they asked for her help in stopping him, she gladly agreed. Not only had she torn off his amulet in city hall, forcing his conversion to his Fahrayan form, but she’d helped the wizards kidnap Jamie from his home.
Emily hadn’t appeared particularly chastened by her role in Jamie’s ordeal, but neither had she gloated. Meaghan had given her a wide berth,
partly out of caution, but more out of the knowledge that if Emily pushed her, even a little, Meaghan would explode into rage and say or do something she couldn’t take back.
Like she might right now, except for that tiny voice of reason in the back of her head. Get a grip on yourself. Hear her out.
With heroic effort, Meaghan forced herself to take a few deep breaths before saying, through gritted teeth, “You expect me to believe you’d help Jhoro? Why would you do that?”
To her credit, Emily met Meaghan’s furious glare and didn’t look away. “I helped him because he helped me. He showed me . . .” Her eyes filled and a tear slipped down her cheek. “He showed me what his people really were. And what they’ve lost. What I helped take from them.”
Meaghan’s rage evaporated. She’d seen enough of Emily faking friendly feelings to be able to tell she was now sincere. How long it might last was anybody’s guess, but at this moment she was an ally. Maybe it was a mistake to trust her, but Meaghan needed all the help she could get right now. Even if it came from a backstabbing witch and a leprechaun with a shady past.
“Okay,” Meaghan said. “Good. I’d rather have you helping us than helping them.” Or helping yourself, Meaghan thought, but reminded herself that Emily had never been truly evil. She’d done an evil thing, handing Jamie over to the Order, but she’d had her reasons, however misguided they were. Emily could be petty, controlling, and occasionally malevolent, but she was motivated by fear more than cruelty.
They’d never be friends, she and Emily, but for now they were on the same side.
Meaghan looked around the small group. “Fill me in. What do we know?”
Nobody spoke.
Solve the small problems first.
Meaghan turned to Brian, who was now on his feet, Natalie at his side. He wore a glowing smile and had an arm wrapped protectively around her.
“What happened to Eliot and Ruth?” Meaghan asked him. “I told you to stay with them.”
“I called a buddy in Williamsport to keep an eye on them. He’s former military and the son of a witch. He pulled some strings at the hospital and got Eliot rushed into surgery with a minimum of questions. They’re in good hands.” Brian brushed a red curl off Natalie’s forehead. “I couldn’t leave my best girl behind. She might forget all about me.”
Natalie wore an adoring smile. “Never.”
Meaghan rolled her eyes. “What happened to Jhoro?”
Sid, his voice tight, refused to meet Meaghan’s eye as he answered. “The mob we saw on the square, they chased us until we ran into them.” He gestured at Nate and Emily.
“We were hunting,” Nate said. He rubbed his nose and stared down at his feet. “For Jhoro. We thought he’d done all this and if we stopped him, then everything would be okay.”
“You thought that,” Emily said, patting his arm. She sighed. “I was still looking for revenge.”
“Yeah, well, me and the guys wanted that, too,” Nate said. He looked back at Meaghan. “We wanted to kick his ass for stealing our wives. The spell . . . you know. You saw it this afternoon at the Brew.”
Meaghan nodded. “You said the guys?”
Nate grinned. “Oh, yeah. There’s a bunch of us.”
“We’re not all guys,” said a woman now standing behind Nate. “My husband thinks he’s gay now. We’ll be having a big talk when this is all over.”
Several men laughed quietly.
Meaghan looked around. More figures had arrived out of the darkness. A few she recognized from around town. Others she’d never seen before. Several, she knew, were not clued in. Or at least hadn’t been until very recently. Meaghan recognized the woman who had spoken as someone she’d seen in the Brew, but she didn’t know her name.
To the woman, Meaghan said, “My brother got all gay, too, but he got over it.”
Annie snorted back a giggle. “I’ll say.”
The new arrivals were armed with baseball bats, golf clubs, and garden rakes.
“Any guns?” Meaghan asked.
“No,” Brian said. “Fortunately, I hooked up with them before they ran into Jhoro. Got rid of the guns as fast as I could. I remember how I felt when the spell had me. I use a gun professionally, and I could barely control myself. No way am I letting untrained, magic-addled civilians have them.”
“Good. So, how’s the angry husband club doing now?’
“And wives,” said a male voice behind, followed my more soft laughter.
“All we want to do now,” Nate said, “is get our wives—spouses, sorry—back before they do something crazy.”
“Like burn a witch?” Natalie asked, her voice an octave higher than normal.
“Yes,” Emily said. “And they won’t stop with Marnie. There are hexed witches in that mob, and they’ll be next. I’ve worked with the Order, remember? They won’t be satisfied until every witch in Eldrich is dead.”
CHAPTER FORTY
No one spoke for a long moment.
Smaller problems, Meaghan thought. But even the smaller problems suddenly felt huge. With a sick feeling in her gut, Meaghan asked, “What’s the mob planning for Jhoro?”
Emily answered. “They didn’t take him so much as he led them away from us. The mob is made up of those who got hit with the attraction part of the spell. Right now they all love him, but that could change.”
With a quick glance at Natalie, Meaghan said, “This spell is unstable, isn’t it?”
Emily frowned. “I think it’s more than that. It seems like several spells interacting. My husband and I—” She stared at her feet, obviously flustered.
Meaghan smiled. She couldn’t help herself. “Yes, I ran into you in city hall yesterday, remember?”
Nate leaned toward Emily and nudged her with his elbow, a knowing smile on his face. “You and the mister, huh? I notice he’s not here. You wear him out?”
Emily spluttered a bit and then said with a giggle, “Well, yes. I think I did. He’s home asleep.”
Meaghan was struck by how different Emily looked, with her face softened into a genuine smile. Seeing it made Meaghan realize how tight and rigid Emily normally appeared, how scared she always looked. Meaghan had always read fear in Emily, but now realized that what she’d perceived as insecurity mixed with arrogance was more accurately terror and gut-wrenching anxiety.
What an awful way to live, Meaghan thought. No wonder she’s so bitchy all the time. She felt the last shreds of resentment melt away. This was an Emily she might actually be able to like rather than merely tolerate.
“Okay,” Meaghan said. “We’ve got multiple spells.” She carefully avoided looking at Natalie. “We’ve been thinking the same thing. Would that explain the varying reactions?”
“Maybe,” Emily said. “But Marnie’s spell appears to be the one that’s gone wild. If we can get that reversed, things should calm down a bit. Then we can unravel the rest of it.”
Meaghan thought a moment and decided to err on the side of trust again. Emily seemed to be dealing fair with her so she’d return the favor. “Do you know about Jamie? And what the Order is trying to summon?”
Emily frowned. “Jamie? What’s he got to do with this? I’d heard he was in the hospital in Williamsport.”
Meaghan shook her head. “Jamie’s in city hall. He’s why the wizards are here in the first place. They followed him here from Williamsport, but he wouldn’t let them get inside.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “He did all that damage?”
“Yeah. He’s been trying to keep the wizards out because they want to use him to open a mystical door to let in something very, very bad. We don’t know what exactly, but we do know it’s a huge threat to all of us. End-of-the-world kind of threat.”
Emily’s smile was gone, replaced by fear. “What . . .” She wiped at her cheek. “What are they doing to him? Are they hurting him again?”
Meaghan realized with a start that Emily was crying. “We don’t know. For a long time, he was fighting them. But I think th
ey took him.”
“No,” said a voice from the shadows, “they didn’t, the assholes. They got into city hall, they woke up these fucking things on my chest again, but they didn’t get me.”
Jamie walked into the dim light of the street lamp. He wore grubby blue hospital scrubs, his feet bare. The sigils stood out clearly on the faded blue cloth and when he came to stand in front of Meaghan, she saw they were scorch marks as if the scars had burnt the cloth. A manic grin stretched across his sweaty, flushed face. His blue eyes were preternaturally bright, the circles underneath even deeper and darker than they’d been the last time Meaghan had seen him.
“Wow,” Jamie said. “I can see right through your hiding spells. It’s like magical X-ray vision.”
“Let me see your eyes,” Meaghan said, pulling him close. She grabbed his chin and tilted his head in the dim light. “Your pupils are enormous. You look like a sad-eyed puppy in one of those tacky black velvet paintings.”
“It’s dark out,” he said. “Everybody’s got big pupils.”
“Not that big,” Meaghan said. She threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. “You’re high as a kite, you little shit. I’m so glad to see you. I thought they got you.”
“They tried. They got in the building. Had me cornered in Emily’s office.”
“My office?” Emily squeaked.
Jamie stepped back, glanced at Emily, and then glared at Meaghan. “What’s she doing here?”
“She’s helping us,” Meaghan said. “She went after Jhoro, and when she caught up with him, he did his woo-woo shaman thing on her, and she’s very sorry, and now she’s on our side.”
“He did his what?” Jamie scowled.
“We don’t know what he’s doing, but it turns out he’s got some big psychic mojo of his own.”
Jamie snorted. “Of course he does. Anything I do, he’s gotta do better. He was like that when we were kids. He hasn’t changed a bit.” He flipped invisible blonde hair out of his face and gave Meaghan a huge cheesy smile. “Ooh, look at me. I’m Jhoro. I’m too sexy for this world. Everybody wants me.”
“Nice,” Meaghan said. “The world is ending and we gotta deal with this? Stow the sibling—cousin—rivalry. How did you get out of city hall?”