Midnight Falls (Sky Brooks Series Book 3)

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Midnight Falls (Sky Brooks Series Book 3) Page 20

by McKenzie Hunter


  It was eleven o’clock and all the shops were closed. We could go through them undetected to look for the Aufero. Ethan opened the door and gave my outfit a once-over: the bright fuchsia modal t-shirt with a panda bear on the front, my jeans that had seen far too many tumbles in the washing machine, and muted silver slippers. I wasn’t exactly dressed for a heist, but neither was he in his work jeans and wrinkled button-down. He made a quick change out of his clothes into a black shirt, dark jeans and boots. Still not heist wear, but a step up from his sloth appearance.

  He gave my attire a once-over and frowned.

  I said, "We are about to commit larceny. If we are caught, who will look like a criminal and who will look like an employee who came back to the store to pick up her forgotten bag?" I tapped my head and winked. "You have to think outside of the box.”

  "I assure you, no one will believe someone would hire you knowing this is your manner of dress," he said with a derisive smirk.

  "Well, I plan to get them to ‘see my reality’ while you will be seeing the inside of a precinct."

  "Let's not get caught."

  Ethan sped through the traffic, once again taking the speed limit as a mere suggestion. I sank into the soft leather of his car, gripping the dashboard, and pumping on my imaginary brakes. Deep in thought, Ethan was more than happy to maintain our comfortable silence and for a while, I pretended to be as well. “What do you do for the pack?” I asked.

  “What?” he asked, shifting gears and whizzing even faster through the traffic. My nails dug into the leather as I pressed back farther into the seat wondering if this overindulgent sports car could survive a car crash with the Tahoe we barely missed as he darted around it into the next lane.

  “It’s harder to kill us, but not impossible. I am pretty sure going through the windshield is going to hurt like hell and put a dent in our plans,” I said.

  The sly smile played at his lips, but eventually he slowed down. But the silence continued. It wasn’t like when I was with his brother. There was rarely silence between me and Josh, and when there was, it was comfortable and calming.

  “What do you do for the pack? What is your job besides Beta? Josh manages the pack’s club.” I was using “manage” in the loosest of terms. Whenever I visited the overcrowded hot spot in the city, Josh was “managing” his way to the nearest table full of barely clothed beautiful women with a tray of shots which he usually helped them finish. During one of his managing duties, I found him escorting a group of drunk men and a soon-to-be groom, and two scantily clad women, who I was sure were exotic dancers, to the VIP section to help the group celebrate his commitment and monogamy with liquor and a lap dance. When he wasn’t managing his way to partying with the local rap artists, pop princesses, boy bands, and up-and-coming musicians, he was with the “it crew” ensuring that the club remained on the list of places to party. The charismatic witch had perfected that part of managing the bar. It was a good job for him that allowed him the flexibility he needed to be available to the pack.

  “Sebastian is a day trader and owns real estate, Steven’s a student, Winter is an IT consultant, I am still not sure what Gavin does, and I don’t think anyone else does either. What is your job?”

  After receiving my first quarterly check, I envisioned the pack’s homes being swarmed by a SWAT team or some overly dramatic sting operation. Where did they get money to own safe houses, buy state-of-the-art jammers, and pay people off? There had to be a source, and although I hadn’t traced the foundation of most of the money, it was comforting that it wasn’t coming from the seedy underbelly of the world: human trafficking, drug trade, and organ acquisition. It’s odd how that is where my mind went in regard to that being their source of income.

  “I’m an attorney,” he admitted without taking his eyes off the road. The smirk taunted the absurdity of his admission.

  My gut started to hurt from suppressing the laugh. If I didn’t let it out, I was going to have irreversible damage. I laughed, wiping the stream of tears from my face. Why was this so wrong? Oh, right, because he lied for sport and there weren’t too many laws the pack or he wasn’t opposed to breaking, and he had a general disdain for human beings, which was probably made worse because of his close dealings with the corruption of the human spirit.

  “Criminal law for two years, then I switched to corporate,” he said as the amused grin lingered. It was a much needed break from the stressors in my head. I didn’t think about how we were going to somehow sneak the Aufero out of a locked building, or how we were going to thwart the wrath of Marcia once she found out it was missing. And once we had the Aufero, how would we do the spell? And would it actually work?

  Instead, I fixated on Ethan as a criminal defense attorney and the baleful glare he had to give every time someone lied to him. How many times did he threaten to kill someone just for ticking him off? Corporate law probably didn’t bother him much. Hiding behind torts and contracts, he probably interacted with people minimally and the venality probably didn’t bother him either.

  I should have known the first two shops would be a bust, because things never were that simple. The quaint buildings would not be the chosen safe house for the Aufero. The cramped metaphysical bookstore we visited first didn’t require much of a detailed search. It was easy to detect that there was nothing there except overpriced books, crystals and incense.

  The second store was larger, which gave me hope. Ethan’s frustration was starting to escalate. We were easily camouflaged in the dark alley and the dumpster we parked behind adequately kept us hidden and close to the entrance of the door. Ethan pulled a tablet from the glove compartment, powered it on, and his fingers worked quickly over the screen. “The alarm shouldn’t go off,” he said.

  Lawyer, I chuckled to myself. But it wasn’t like he was a policeman, with a job to uphold the law. He just needed to be able to defend himself or others when they were suspected of breaking it. He took out a small case from under his seat and quickly got out of the car. By the time I had joined him at the door, he had it unlocked.

  I shot him a dirty look when he turned on the lights. “You draw more attention when you are fumbling around in a shop with flashlights.”

  “Seems like you are speaking from experience.”

  Small bottles of colorful oils ranging from yellow to turquoise filled the shelves closest to the cash register. Next to them were various herbs, powders, henna, and metals. Candles on the far end, and books on Wicca, spirituality, and Tarot reading were stacked along the tables in the store. The largest shelf held an assortment of alchemist’s and wiccan protection stones. The tranquil yellow walls were covered with symbols of protection, prosperity, and wisdom. There were other symbols, but I couldn’t remember what they were for. Now I cursed my poor study skills because Josh had gone over them at least a dozen times, but the subtlety of the markings made learning them even more confusing and they all started to just merge together and look alike. But I did remember that you couldn’t pair certain symbols; that would make them ineffective. I just couldn’t remember which was which, and that’s why I had a cheat sheet in my phone.

  Ethan was efficient with searching the place and after we had searched every inch of it, we went to the next place on our list. We entered the third shop. I walked around the large store, the symbols were on the wall, just like in the picture and in the three other stores. The other ones held magic, weak magic. This one didn’t. Marcia wouldn’t want her magic weakened under any circumstance. “It’s here,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded as I moved quickly toward the back of the cluttered space that had more things in it than the other two places combined. The smells of the oils were more potent, and the powders tainted the air with a caustic aroma. The symbols on the wall were mixed with blood and henna, and Ethan smelled it as well. There was magic at the other places, weak, negligible, almost missed. But strong magic was performed here, and the people that possessed it had used it recently,
leaving their magical imprint throughout. Josh said that when magic left a fingerprint, the owner of it, if necessary, could be traced. Here it would be undistinguishable. Too many fingerprints marked the air. I didn’t know whose magic it was, but I definitely knew it had been performed excessively here.

  With a quick jerk, I tried to break the lock, but it was sturdier than it looked. When it didn’t budge, I shoved my shoulder into the door, and after several hard hits, the lock gave as the door splintered at the frame. This shop was a front, because the back room was the real attraction. From the outside it looked like a small extension of the building, but the large beveled mirrors on the back wall gave the illusion of a larger space. There was a mahogany conference table with five chairs placed against the opposite side. Across from the table was a large wooden chair, with sigils placed on the back frame. Leather restraints were on the front leg and arms of the chair. Silvery-white colored links were attached to the restraints, which I was sure were laced with iridium that would render anyone with magical ability helpless.

  The strum of magic floated from an armoire in the corner. I moved closer to it. Through the glass I could see talismans and books on the first shelf. Ebbs of light reflected from the glass, and with each step closer, the light pulsed harder. The object on the second shelf shined brighter, illuminating its deep mahogany house. My scribbled drawings could never have prepared me for the presence of the Aufero. Its power was a combination of magic left by the many witches that had fallen victim to its misuse. A miscellany of various levels of magic that cumulated into a power far greater than anything I had experienced. But there wasn’t any purity to it, the way Josh’s magic felt to me. It felt similar to Ethos’ magic, a muddled dark force that could never truly be wrangled into control, something that used its purveyor as its servant.

  Inches from the armoire, the shuddering increased. Then the doors thrust open, revealing it. It looked just as it had when I had seen it in the in-between: a diaphanous silhouette enveloped it, and it pulsed waves of magic towards me. I opened my hand and it propelled itself into my hand, molding to it for security.

  As I cradled the Aufero, the door of the room blasted open. Ethan skidded hard through it, his back slamming into the wall. A medium-height, slender woman with oddly frosted short hair came in behind him. I barely noticed the four other people behind her, because my focus stayed on her. Josh was a level one and considered the strongest of their kind, which made me wonder what she was. The magic that came off her in waves easily eclipsed his. I didn’t need an introduction; I knew I had finally met Marcia.

  Ethan attempted to stand. “Stay,” she said with a quick nod in his direction and he collapsed to the ground. Then she turned her attention to me. “Give it to me,” she demanded.

  I pulled it closer to my chest. “No.”

  The Aufero glowed, pulsing energy that seemed to hold her at bay each time she dared to approach it.

  “Now,” she barked angrily. The walls bulged, straining against the force while the floors trembled underneath. I struggled to maintain upright.

  “No.”

  She sucked in a breath, cold charcoal eyes echoed back at me just as they did when Josh called upon stronger magic. I braced myself for her worst.

  Nothing.

  Her lips moved quickly, her arms spread wide, the room rumbled again, the lights flickered and Ethan was pinned against the wall, wincing in pain.

  I stood unaffected. The Aufero shone and shuddered, which only lit the flames of her anger. An indomitable shield of magic protected me from anything she could dole out.

  She couldn’t hurt me. It was hard to keep my ego in check. There was no way in hell she was getting it back. Intoxicated by my indestructibility, my intention was to get Ethan and me out of there.

  The field that now surrounded me protected me from her wrath, but I couldn’t perform magic either while enveloped in it. I concentrated as I had done many times with Josh and broke the field. Shattering it in pieces, I stood just feet from Marcia and the others. The magical energy was strong and now all I had to do was use it to my advantage. My finger moved against the crisp air and the four witches pounded hard into the wall. They struggled to get free but I held them there. I had magic at my disposal, but not the skill. If I had, I would have made them vanish. Instead, I thrashed them against the wall until they were nearly limp.

  “Let him go,” I said.

  “You are way out of your league. If you want to walk out of here with him alive, you will relinquish it to me.” Her wave of magic tugged at me. It was wrong and nothing like Josh’s magic. Like a storm, it ravaged the room, easily dominating anything that Josh had exposed me to. It thrashed against me, slamming me into the wall. Her finger clawed at the air, then moved toward her as she tried the pry the Aufero from me. It clung to me. Marcia was relentless, calling on stronger magic, yanking at it.

  I pushed back and forced her into the wall, harder than I had anticipated. Her eyes were totally black, and the room rumbled from her rage. No matter how strong the Aufero was, I lacked the ability to rival any of her attacks. Two of the witches had already released themselves from the wall. I wasn’t going to win against five powerful witches. I erected another field, just in time. A force slammed into it, and waves rolled over it. It collapsed inward, but the shell continued to hold.

  Her attention quickly turned to him, and with a wave of her hand, all the other witches crashed to the floor as Ethan remained pinned, arms outstretched, legs immobilized.

  “Give. It. To. Me,” she demanded.

  I didn’t respond. She glared at me, then returned her attention to Ethan. The glass wall shattered into pieces. Shards of glass sped toward him.

  “Give it to me,” she said; her voice strained as she concentrated, keeping the glass at bay.

  I closed my eyes for just a fraction of a second. I tried to erect a protective spell, push it in his direction—nothing. The Aufero shed a light radiance; its magic felt dormant as though it had served its purpose, which was to protect its Moura.

  The smile peaked as she grabbed one of the larger pieces of glass from the mass that floated in the air. Her features were taut, eyes narrowed to lines as she concentrated. She was quite powerful, but this was a task that required a level of skill that was not easily accessible to even the most powerful witch.

  “I’ve always been curious how much a were-animal body can endure before it shuts down from shock and dies,” she said, inches from Ethan.

  “Relinquish it to me,” her strained voice demanded again.

  When I didn’t, she shoved the glass into his stomach. His eyes shut and he winced, biting into his lips. A deluge of blood spilled when she removed the shard. He struggled, but without success.

  “Stop struggling. You’ll need your energy,” she said in a sadistically calm voice.

  The fingers moved just a hair through the air and the fragments of glass moved back several inches. Enough of a distance to accelerate, inflict more pain, and cause more damage.

  “I didn’t realize you all had a Moura. That explains quite a bit. Your pack has been quite busy. Do you have any others?”

  Gasping for breath, Ethan ignored her question.

  She waited a moment, his silence sparking more anger in her. Smiling, she swiped her fingers across the air, and several pieces of glass embedded into him. He cringed but did nothing more. Not a scream, a howl—nothing. When she did it again, I screamed, though he endured it in silence. Then he slumped down, pinned against the wall by her magic and the pieces of glass shoved into him. His clothes were sodden and crimson with blood.

  I dropped the field. “Here.”

  “You know I can’t have it once it is in your possession. You need to relinquish it to me. Give up ownership,” she demanded heatedly as though I had intentionally disobeyed her.

  “Fine, I relinquish the Aufero to you,” I snapped.

  She exhaled a sharp, annoyed breath. “Praeditos, the Aufero is relinquished to you. Say i
t.”

  I repeated her words. The Aufero pulsed, heating to the point it singed my fingers. I tossed it to her, hoping it would burn hers too. The orange and yellow light that pulsed in it smothered to gray, then black. Death. I waited for it to glow again, which it did after just a few moments.

  “I accept,” she said softly and then she disappeared along with the four people that accompanied her. I doubted they had gone far; probably waiting around to ensure that we left. I moved toward Ethan and pulled out the pieces of glass two at time. There were seven in all; three were fused into his legs, one in his chest, and the other three in his shoulders.

  He moved unexpectedly well for a person that had been stabbed by thick pieces of glass, and refused my assistance, hobbling his way to the car. He was agreeable to me driving home, which was the worst decision. It was a manual shift, and it was a bad time to learn how to drive one in a car that cost more than I made in a year. He tried to instruct me the best he could and each time he winced, I wasn’t sure if it was from pain or the fact I was driving in the wrong gear. It stalled just four times, but by the time we arrived at his home, he probably would need his car serviced.

  The pain had increased enough that he willingly accepted my help to get him into the house. “A manual transmission is stupid,” I said as we went up the stairs.

  He managed a weak smile. “It’s the only way to go.”

  He plopped onto a leather seat, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

  “My Civic has an automatic transmission and a cool little camera that keeps me from running into things. You would think that the BMW manufacturer would catch on,” I said with a hint of amusement as I looked under the cabinet in his kitchen, then his bathroom, in search of a first aid kit. I knew he had one.

 

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