Crushed (City of Eldrich Book 2)

by Laura Kirwan

  Patrice grabbed Natalie’s burnt hand to help pull her up the stairs, and Natalie cried out. Patrice frowned. “Let me see that.” She examined Natalie’s blistered palm, then blew on it gently. “There. All better.”

  Natalie stared in wonder at her now unburnt hand. “Shit, yeah.” She smiled at Patrice. “Let’s go kick some monster ass.”

  Patrice smiled back. “Everybody try to get upstairs as fast as you can.” She looked down at Meaghan. “You have a role to play, I feel it. But not yet. Hold back and wait. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

  Unless, I don’t. Meaghan forced herself to smile and wave.

  They continued climbing. Meaghan slipped her arm around Jamie’s other side and, together, she and John pulled him up the stairs. Natalie’s intervention soon wore off and the sigils burned red again. Jamie’s eyes had rolled back in his head and he whimpered like a wounded animal with every step.

  John tried to carry him, and Jamie shook him off. “No. I have to do this. I have to be the one.”

  “Why?” Meaghan asked. “Let us help you.”

  “You are helping,” Jamie rasped. “But you can’t do it for me. Don’t ask why. You can’t. It has to be me.”

  Patrice and Natalie reached the landing. With a final backward glance and a wave, they stepped out of view, leaving only a golden glow behind them.

  Meaghan and John dragged Jamie up the final half dozen stairs. By the time they got there, Patrice and her glow were gone and the landing was enveloped in murky darkness.

  The high windows that normally flooded the stairwell with light showed only blackness. Meaghan hadn’t noticed the absence of daylight before because of the glow emanating from Patrice. It was not the darkness of nighttime, but the flat blackness of the void. Meaghan had seen it before, in the moments before Fahraya had been destroyed.

  A faint brightness came from the shattered remains of the solicitor’s office. “This way,” Meaghan said, pointing with her free hand. “Almost there.” She smiled, trying to hide her fear. “I almost never get to work this early. And during Labor Day weekend, no less.”

  Jamie merely grunted.

  The oak door and its surrounding frame were charred and shattered. Meaghan couldn’t see much in the dim light, but the squelching under her feet told her the fire sprinklers had gone off at some point.

  “Hang on a sec,” Meaghan said. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. The screen was cracked but the flashlight app still worked. She shone it around until she found what she was looking for—the small fire extinguisher sitting under what remained of Kady’s desk.

  John looked puzzled.

  Meaghan shrugged. “In case the wizards are still fire happy. And it’s a metal doohickey we can hit somebody with.”

  “Made of steel?” John asked. “Like the saucepan?”

  Meaghan grimaced. “No idea. Let’s hope we don’t need to find out.” She peered into the murk. The flashlight app was a pinprick in the darkness and as good as useless. She put the phone back in her pocket. “This way.”

  Yesterday the hallway had been only about twelve feet long, with Meaghan’s office door near the middle. But the hallway they entered stretched far into the gloom. All the usual landmarks were gone. In the distance, they saw a pulsating ball of light.

  “I don’t think we’re in city hall anymore,” Meaghan said.

  “Did we go through a gateway?” John asked.

  “Maybe,” she said. “The Fahrayan gateway was like stepping through a doorway. No tunnels, no light shows.”

  John nodded. “Troon is like that too.”

  Jamie roused a bit from his stupor. “That way.” He gestured weakly at the light. “Patrice is down there. They’re down there.”

  Meaghan grinned at him. “So first you trash the office, then these jerks turn it into some kind of mystical portal to hell?”

  “I guess,” Jamie said, smiling for a moment before crying out in pain and doubling over. He would have crumpled to the ground if John hadn’t caught him.

  “Enough, boy. I carry you now.” He cradled Jamie like a baby and lifted him from the ground. Jamie was a big guy, yet John held him like he would a sleeping child.

  They trudged down the hallway toward the pulsing light.

  Go toward the light, Meaghan thought. Isn’t that what they say happens in a near-death experience? “Are you sure we should we be doing this?”

  John grunted and shifted Jamie’s weight. “No. But Patrice says we must. And I think I am more scared of her than them.”

  “Put me down,” Jamie grumbled. “I’m not a kid anymore. I can walk.”

  John sighed, but acquiesced.

  Jamie groaned and buckled again.

  John caught his arm and tried to lift him, but before he could, Jamie said, “I can do this. If you help me.”

  Meaghan and John pulled him to his feet and pulled his arms over their shoulders. Jamie swayed a bit, but stayed on his feet. “Lions and tigers and bears,” he rasped. “Oh, my.”

  “What?” Meaghan tucked the fire extinguisher tightly under her armpit and tried to get a better grip on him.

  “The Wizard of Oz. When they’re going down that big hallway to meet the wizard. Or maybe in the woods before they met the lion—I can’t remember.”

  “Who is this wizard?” John asked. “Is he with the Order?”

  Jamie chuckled. “Dad, you need to get out more.”

  “It’s from an old movie,” Meaghan said. “They show it on TV all the time.”

  “I don’t have a TV,” John said.

  “Of course you don’t,” Jamie said. “You guys promise me something.”

  Like it had on the stairs, the air felt thicker. Every step was a struggle.

  “Anything,” John said.

  “What are we promising?” Meaghan asked.

  Jamie chuckled. He was still on his feet, but John and Meaghan were doing most of the work. “You’re such a lawyer. He says yes, you say not so fast. Promise me you’ll look after Patrice when I’m gone.”

  Meaghan snorted. “You aren’t going anywhere. At least not without the rest of us.”

  He laughed, almost giddy now. “You know that’s not true. Even if the wizards or the mystery bad guys don’t kill me, my heart’s about to explode from all the drugs. I’m not getting out of this one alive. We all know it.”

  “No,” John growled. “We do not know it. Patrice, she does not know it.”

  “You guys need to make sure she’s okay. Make sure she gets on with her life. Gets married again.” Jamie gave John a hard look. “No years of drinking and grieving and being all alone. Promise me.”

  John stopped, his head bowed. His shoulders shook and Meaghan realized he was weeping. “I promise.”

  Jamie nodded. “Good.” He turned to Meaghan. “I’d ask you again, but I know how stubborn you are.”

  “Good call.” She squeezed his hand. “Wherever we end up, we’re all going together. You’re not ditching me that easy, kid.”

  “I’m still not gonna call you Mom.”

  “Fine,” Meaghan grunted. “Whatever. Let’s get our asses down the hall and get this shit over with. Everybody’s waiting for us.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  The light glowing at the end of the long corridor was not the bright liquid gold that had surrounded Patrice, but something darker and murkier—less like summer sunlight and more like the pits of hell. With a hint of avocado green.

  It was malevolent light.

  They stepped into it.

  They were in what looked like city hall’s attic—the part with the unreinforced floor that would drop anyone standing on it into the offices below. But there were almost a dozen people standing around and the floor remained intact, which meant this couldn’t be the actual attic and they were no longer in city hall.

  Meaghan didn’t plan on jumping up and down to find out.

  Patrice and Natalie stood at one end of the space, bathed in golden lig
ht. At the other end, illuminated in the murky, hellish light stood a gray-robed wizard. And a woman. Dressed like a witch of the Circe wannabe variety—flowing blonde hair, too much silver jewelry, and lots of black leather.

  Halfway between them, Jhoro kneeled, head down, arms bound behind his back.

  The woman stepped forward. There was some black lace in her ensemble, too.

  “Give me a break,” Meaghan said, rolling her eyes. She’d meant to mutter it, but it chimed clear, as if she had a microphone.

  The wizard threw back his hood and Meaghan recognized him.

  Cooper. The ostensible leader of the Order, the man who’d torn off Jamie’s amulet and shoved him through the gateway into Fahraya. A tall strong man, bigger than John, he had close-cropped, dark hair, speckled with gray, and a face that would have been handsome but for the cruelty stamped into every line.

  “Finally,” Cooper said. He turned toward the woman. “Orinda, my love, meet Keele’s daughter and—” he gave a cold chuckle, “the former king, if you can call it that, of Fahraya.”

  The woman smiled, her face equally twisted with cruelty. “You didn’t tell me she was so . . . old.”

  Meaghan’s fear evaporated. No way was she letting this caricature of a witch talk shit and get away with it. “Who are you calling old, Bellatrix? Nice bleach job, but you really should get those roots looked after. And black leather? Not a good look for you. Gives kind of an overstuffed luggage vibe.”

  Jamie snorted with laughter.

  The woman glared at him, waved her hand, and Jamie cried out in agony. He crumpled to the ground, nearly taking Meaghan and John with him.

  The woman waved her hand again, and this time John fell to the ground writhing in pain. She looked at Meaghan, smiling, and lifted her hand a third time.

  Meaghan stood there, fire extinguisher tucked under one arm, her free hand on her hip, an eyebrow raised. She wanted desperately to help John and Jamie, but stood her ground. She would not give Cooper and his girlfriend the satisfaction of seeing her panic.

  The witch flicked her hand at Meaghan.

  Nothing happened.

  The witch stepped back, startled.

  “Tacky and stupid,” Meaghan said, her voice dripping acid. “Which part of impervious don’t you idiots understand?”

  The witch bristled. “Stupid? I’m not the one who thought she could protect the town by keeping the wizards out. I walked right in and set all this chaos in motion. Who do you think cast the first love spell?”

  Meaghan grimaced. Magically blocking any wizards from getting near Eldrich hadn’t been Meaghan’s idea, but she’d approved it. They used a witch to get to us last time. How could I think they wouldn’t do it again?

  Because the Order’s stated belief was that women shouldn’t be permitted to do magic. Except, apparently, the boss’s girlfriend. Which was exactly the sort of hypocrisy she’d encountered throughout her government law career. Some leader I am. Where was your bullshit detector on that one, Meg?

  Orinda gave Meaghan a saccharine smile, then flicked another spell. Jamie and John cried out together in pain.

  “Enough,” Patrice shouted. “They’re under my protection.”

  Cooper merely smiled. This time he waved his hand and Jhoro cried out along with John and Jamie.

  Now Meaghan wanted to run to Jhoro, but knew she had to confront Cooper. “Get out of my town.”

  Cooper laughed. “My town. My protection. Maybe for now, but soon it’s going to be my world.” He pointed at Patrice. “Where are your sisters, little one? So much power, but you don’t know how to wield it, and,” he pointed at the circle of light contracting around her, “it’s fading fast.”

  He turned back to Meaghan. “And you.” He laughed again. “No power at all. Being impervious means nothing. Less than nothing. Yet they all look to you. We both know what a bad idea that is, don’t we?”

  Meaghan’s face flamed. The bastard knew. Maybe it was only a lucky guess, but she’d been telling herself the same thing since that day in June when she learned the truth about Eldrich and herself.

  But, who, Meg, are you going to believe? This evil cackling bastard and his bitch girlfriend? Or the people who know and trust you?

  Meaghan thought of Eliot. And Annie. And Russ. All telling her how strong she was, how she could see the world clearly when others couldn’t. All calling her boss.

  She looked around. John and Jamie slumped on the floor, moaning in pain. Patrice stood like a goddess in her golden circle, but it was now visibly shrinking, the golden light fading. Natalie stood by her side, eyes screwed shut in concentration, chanting, as if fighting against an invisible foe.

  Meaghan looked over at Jhoro, hunched on the floor, seemingly in agony. Curled on his side, his golden hair matted with blood, Jhoro had his back to Cooper and the witch. He stared up at Meaghan with his vivid blue eyes, and winked at her, a big Cheshire cat grin on his battered face.

  It took all Meaghan’s effort not to do a visible double take.

  Jhoro was faking.

  Her heart lurched in her chest and hope flared inside her.

  Cooper hit him with another spell. Jhoro cried out, while giving Meaghan a massive eye roll, and shaking his head slightly as if saying “can you believe this guy?”

  Her confidence streamed back. Whatever the source of Jhoro’s power, it was stronger than Cooper’s magic.

  Let’s see if he falls for this one again. Meaghan buried her face in her hands and began to sob noisily. She was so exhausted by now it wasn’t hard to summon up real tears. The hardest part was not bursting into manic laughter at the same time.

  “You’re right,” she wailed. “It’s a terrible idea.” She rushed to John and Jamie’s side and knelt beside them. “Please don’t hurt them anymore.” She turned away from Cooper and crouched next to John. Now it was her turn to wink.

  His eyes widened slightly, slanted towards Jhoro, and then back to Meaghan.

  She nodded slightly in return.

  John pulled her towards him into a rough hug and whispered, “He is faking?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “Working on it,” she breathed. “Follow our lead. If you see a chance to get out of here, take it.”

  A pair of rough hands pulled her away from John. One of Cooper’s minions. The fire extinguisher fell from her grasp, but John caught it before it hit the ground and tucked it under his legs.

  The minion dragged her over to Jhoro and dropped her next to him.

  She tried to stand and the hands shoved her down. “Knees, bitch.”

  Meaghan sighed. Always the knees with these jerks. She gritted her teeth. She might bristle when called old, but she wasn’t young and kneeling hurt like hell.

  Jhoro looked up at her from where he lay on the floor and winked again.

  Back to business. Meaghan slumped onto her side next to Jhoro and commenced with the show. “Please,” she sobbed, her face hidden in her elbow. “Let them go.”

  Already her knees felt better.

  The tacky witch laughed.

  Meaghan ignored her. Time to see if she could get Cooper talking. He’d fallen for it in June. She let loose a fresh wave of sobs. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can,” he said and then laughed.

  She gave him a moment, but he didn’t elaborate.

  Come on, already. Start blabbing. “What’s going to happen to us?”

  He chuckled. “Why you’re going to die, of course. But by then, you’ll be only too glad to go. After they finish with you.”

  And more silence. He was going to make her drag it out of him.

  “Who are they?” she sobbed.

  “What is more accurate,” the leather-clad witch chimed in. “And when they get here, they’ll burn the human world to ashes. Except for us.”

  Of course they will, Meaghan thought. Will one of you start monologuing already?

  Cooper complied. “They exist o
utside time and space, and even the most powerful magical beings fear them. They are magic itself. Once they were free to roam the worlds, magical and otherwise, and they fed freely on the fear and flesh of those who defied them.”

  Ka-ching. Scary bad monsters who, regardless of how bad and scary they were, apparently weren’t roaming anymore. Meaghan sobbed louder. “Aren’t they free now?”

  “Soon, old woman,” the witch said. “Soon.”

  “Yes,” Cooper said. “They’ve been trapped a long time, but soon, finally, they’ll be free.”

  “But won’t they . . .” Meaghan sobbed louder. “Won’t they kill us all?”

  “Not us,” the witch said. “They’ll reward us.”

  Cooper, with a faint tone of annoyance, Meaghan noted, said, “We know how to control them.”

  You sure about that? Meaghan shifted on the ground. Now her hip hurt. And she didn’t think she could do anymore faux crying and be believable.

  With even more annoyance in his voice, Cooper said, “And that’s all you need to know.” He turned to a minion. “Bring her. Time for the first sacrifice.”

  “You aren’t using Keele?” the witch asked. “I want to see her burn.”

  Cooper said nothing for a moment. Long enough to betray his growing impatience with his girlfriend. “In time, love, in time. But the first must be properly . . . prepared. You know this.”

  The witch sighed in exasperation. “Fine. Let’s get on with it then.”

  The minion dragged a limp figure from the shadows.

  Marnie.

  Meaghan almost started to cry again, for real this time.

  Marnie was naked and filthy and battered. The ring had been torn from her nose and her hair had been shaved, roughly, with a knife, judging by her torn and bloody scalp. Dried blood crusted her thighs and buttocks.

  But the look on her face was even worse. She wasn’t dead, but she might as well have been. Not even fear registered on her face. The interior light in her eyes was extinguished, replaced with a flat, vacant stare, devoid of hope or feeling.

  Seeing the look on Meaghan’s face, the witch cooed. “She wanted love. So we gave it to her. Over and over and over.”

  Meaghan had thought there couldn’t be anyone in the Order she hated more than Cooper, but she was wrong.