by Linsey Hall
“Okay, great,” I said. “So we’ll file that away as one more thing to address.”
If Victor had FireSouls locked up in some creepy castle—especially child FireSouls—I was going to get them the hell out. But first we needed to find them.
“So Victor may want vengeance on the Alpha Council, and he’s planning something big,” Aidan said. “Big enough that he needed to knock out their defenses to make it happen.”
“Could be,” Emile said.
“The Alpha Council said they could create a new Heartstone to protect Glencarrough,” I said, thinking back to the conversation I’d had with Elenora, their leader. “But they said it would take a while. It’s been over a month. I wonder how they’re coming along?”
“We can go warn them,” Del said.
“Yeah, we could.” I nodded. “But we aren’t even sure if that’s his goal. We need more info. Let’s find this Dermot Mulvey. Ask him some questions. If a member of the Order of the Magica is involved with this, we want to know what he’s up to so we can tell the Alpha Council.”
“That’s not going to be easy,” Aidan said. “I’ve heard that Mulvey’s home is well protected.”
I grinned. “Good thing we’re used to breaking into places, then, isn’t it?”
“It’s smaller than I expected.” I examined Dermot Mulvey’s house from the cover of the trees. “And so average.”
Dermot Mulvey didn’t actually live in Magic’s Bend, Aidan had learned. He kept a house outside of Portland, a city largely inhabited by humans. On the surface, it was an odd move for an Order member. But it made sense for a guy who was going behind the Order’s back with Victor Orriodor.
His house, on the other hand, was a definite surprise. It sat in the middle of a clearing in the woods. Sunlight shined on the two-story brick building that looked like it only had four bedrooms, max. For most people, it’d be a good size house. Big, even.
For Dermot Mulvey, whose office took up nearly an entire floor of the tallest building in Magic’s Bend, it was weird. He was definitely someone who liked to throw wealth around. This house didn’t follow that pattern, though. And Aidan’s security colleague who’d done the work on it had said it was hard to get into.
But this didn’t look so bad.
After a good night’s sleep—during which Aidan had kept me company—we made the two-hour drive to the bulldog’s house. This was supposed to be a stealth operation, so everyone else had stayed behind.
Our goal was to sneak in, get the bulldog alone, and dose him with the truth serum. Del and Nix had wanted to come, but we’d all agreed that if we were caught, we shouldn’t be together. Victor needed all three of us for his plans, and we didn’t want to make it easy for him.
“Looks like there are only two guards,” Aidan murmured.
The massive men stood on either side of the front door, black suit jackets too tight in the shoulders and open at the waist. To allow access to a weapon? We were too far away to get a feel for their magical signature, so I didn’t know what they were capable of.
I fiddled with the small vial of truth serum that Connor had whipped up for us in his secondary kitchen—the one specifically for potion making. Then I tucked it deep into the small bag slung over my back and grabbed the potion bomb full of sleeping potion.
I still had my magic and my daggers, but the magic was usually loud and the daggers were deadly. I didn’t want to attract attention, and I didn’t want to kill the bulldog’s guards. They were probably just some schmucks hired by the Magica.
“Remember, no killing,” I said. I was more than willing to eviscerate Victor Orriodor and even the bulldog, but not his guards. Not unless they had their hands around my throat. “Not unless there’s no other way.”
He nodded, though he looked a bit grumpy. He agreed with me on principle, but with my life at risk, he didn’t want to take any chances.
Now that I had such a massive amount of power running through my veins, it made me more wary of actually using it. Just because I could blast a whole bunch of guys into oblivion didn’t mean I should.
I wore the golden dampening charm around my wrist because I didn’t have full control of my power yet, so I was free to operate as normal. But I could take it off any time and blow things to hell.
I wanted to avoid that. At least until I had a chance to practice.
“Let’s get a move on,” I said. “I’ll take the guy on the left.”
Aidan dug a potion bomb out of his pocket and grinned at me. “Then I’ll take the fellow on the right.”
The morning was clear and bright, with nary a shadow for cover. Fortunately, we were able to hide in the woods.
“On three,” I said.
Aidan nodded, and I counted. When I hit three, we hurled our bombs. I was a good shot from all my dagger practice, and my potion bomb exploded on the guard’s burly chest half a second before Aidan’s bomb hit the other guard in the shoulder. Sparkling green liquid exploded over them, and they both stiffened. Their eyes rolled up in their heads, and they toppled forward.
“Good shot,” I said.
“Not as good as yours.”
“No.” I grinned. “Come on.”
We raced across the grass toward the house. I shivered when the prickly sense of the house’s protection charm hit me. Ugh. I hated that feeling.
When we reached the fallen guards, I pulled a few strips of heavy rope and two gags from my bag and handed some to Aidan.
Quickly, we bound and gagged the guards, just in case they woke up earlier than anticipated. Up close, I could smell Shifter. These weren’t the same guards as he’d brought to the prison. Those had been Magica. These guys were some kind of Shifter—probably predators. Big ones.
I dusted off my hands and stood, then nodded at Aidan. He grinned, then pulled a small silver charm from his pocket. I’d seen him use the Spell Stripper before, but I was struck anew with jealousy. It was a handy little device that would go a long way in my treasure hunting endeavors, allowing me to get past charms that would take me longer to figure out.
I grinned. I should ask for one for my birthday.
Aidan ran the charm over the boundaries of the door. The prickly magic of the protection charm slowly faded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Protection charms usually felt awful, but that one had been worse. Like hundreds of little bee stings.
“We’re in,” Aidan murmured, then pushed open the door.
I followed him into a small foyer, struck by how quiet the place was. And it smelled weird…. Abandoned, almost. Like dust and a bit of mold.
“Not home?” I mouthed at Aidan.
He frowned and shook his head. One of his many contacts had reported that the bulldog had returned home yesterday evening after his failed attempt to question me at the prison. So he should be here. There was even a big black SUV in the drive.
I gestured for Aidan to follow me and crept toward the arched exit that led to another room. It turned out to be the kitchen, but this room was even weirder than the foyer.
“Fake food?” I stared at the plastic breakfast that had been set out on the table—cereal and milk along with half a cup of coffee. But up close, it was obviously not real.
“He doesn’t live here,” Aidan said.
“It’s a false front.” I glanced at the window. “From the window, it would look real.”
“And the guards were real,” Aidan said. “If he just has this place for show, they could have been illusion. But he’s choosing to pay real people to protect this place.”
I looked around, now fully convinced that no one lived here. It looked like a model home, with a thin veneer of habitation—the fake food, fake plants, and a pile of bills that were no doubt also not real.
“Let’s look around,” I said. “Something’s off.”
We made our way around the house on silent feet. Every room was just like the kitchen—scattered with the detritus of everyday life, but carefully staged. A wooden door under the stairs ca
ught my eye.
“Basement next?” I asked.
Aidan went to the door and pulled on the handle, but it didn’t budge. He withdrew his hand and shook it, as if burned.
“I guess it’s not just locked,” I said.
“No. There are protections on it.”
“We’re onto something, then.”
Aidan pulled the spell stripper out of his pocket again and killed the protection charms on the door. This time when he tried to open it, it did easily.
He led the way down the darkened staircase.
A slight shuffling sound in the darkness was my only warning.
“Down!” I yelled as I dug into my bag for a potion bomb.
Aidan ducked as I raised my hand, igniting my lightstone ring. It blazed in the dark, illuminating an ordinary basement with a very unordinary giant scorpion lurking in the dark.
Shit. I hurled the potion bomb, praying to magic as it splattered against his terrifying face. Brilliant green goo dripped off his fangs, but the creature barely tottered on its spindly legs, so I dug out another and hurled it. This time, the monster swayed. When Aidan hit it with one of his bombs, the scorpion crashed to the ground.
“Holy hell,” Aidan muttered. “Didn’t expect that.”
“Nope.” I patted my bag, dismayed to feel only one more potion bomb.
“I think we’re onto something, though,” Aidan said.
“Yep.” I glanced around the room, noticing the scorpion’s signs of habitation. A weird nest and a rotting smell. “But what was he doing down here? Guarding something?”
Aidan walked to the wall that the scorpion had been standing near and ran his fingertips along it. “There may be a hidden door.”
“Smart.” I joined him, training my fingers along the dusty wall. “This house is just the entrance to his real home. He could invite guests here. Reporters would think they had a real address, and if they looked in the windows, they’d just think he was gone.”
“But the scorpion guards the passage to his real residence.”
My fingertips buzzed with electric magic when they passed over a certain part of the wall. “Think I found it.”
I stepped back and stared at the wall, unable to see the door. Aidan joined me and pulled his spell stripper from his pocket, then ran it along the wall. A long vertical line began to glow. At about seven feet high, it took a right turn. After a few feet, it turned again and headed down to the floor. Outlining a door. A moment later, the concealment charm faded, and the actual door appeared.
“Nice work.” I pushed it open and peered into the darkened corridor. It was tiled in black granite, with modern light fixtures hanging from the ceiling every twenty feet. They looked expensive. In fact, the whole place was a complete 180 from the boring house and dingy basement. “This is more the bulldog’s taste.”
Aidan stepped in behind me. “Yes. Much more his style.”
We made our way silently down the hall. My muscles were tense and my ears perked, but there was only silence. Would the house at the other end be underground, like some weird mole person’s home? Or perhaps it’d be hidden from the outside world by illusion.
I was so distracted by the thought that I almost didn’t hear the strange slithering, rattling sound coming from beneath our feet.
“Stop!” I grabbed the back of Aidan’s shirt and jerked him to a halt.
He stopped abruptly, his big form dead-still. “What is it?”
I strained my ears and sniffed the air. A strange, dry scent hit my nose, totally unidentifiable. But the slithering sound wasn’t. “I think it’s… snakes.”
“Snakes? I can’t hear them.” He looked at me quizzically. “How can you?”
“My hearing has been crazy good ever since I unlocked my root power. I don’t know why.”
His brow creased. “It’s probably enhancing the Shifter power that you took from Victor’s pet wolf.”
I hadn’t thought about that. Victor’s pet wolf had been one of two female wolf Shifters who’d worked for him. They’d abducted a little girl and tried to kill me. So when I’d had a chance to take one of the wolves’ Shifter power, I hadn’t hesitated. I’d known I’d need every skill I could get in order to defeat Victor, and she’d been a second away from killing me. In hindsight, I felt weirdly guilty about it all, but now wasn’t the time to examine that.
“Makes sense.” I studied the floor and walls. “I think there’s a booby-trap here.”
“That’s very paranoid of Dermot. Though the giant scorpion set the tone for paranoid, I’d say.”
“Yeah. And very old school.” As in, Egyptian pyramid old school. I reached out to Aidan. “Hold my hand.”
His big palm gripped mine. I squeezed it tight, then poked my toe forward, feeling my way along the marble floor, trying to trip the booby-trap to find out where it was. I moved cautiously. Though Aidan would keep me from plummeting in, I didn’t want to chance it. I’d dangled over a pit of creepy crawlies a few times in my career, and I didn’t want a repeat.
When the floor tile disappeared out from under my toe, I leapt back, my heart pounding.
“Found it.” I let go of Aidan’s hand and moved forward, peering into the pit that had opened in the floor. About ten feet down, black snakes writhed within.
“Thank magic for your new hearing,” Aidan muttered. “Wouldn’t want to fall into that.”
Though it was deep, it was only about five feet across. “I think we can jump it.”
Aidan nodded. We stepped back to take a running start, then leapt over the hole one at a time. It was a close call for me, but I made it with inches to spare. We set off down the hall again, more cautious than before.
We’d gone a long way with no more traps—perhaps as far as a quarter mile—by the time a door appeared at the other end.
Unfortunately, a guard appeared with it. His mouth opened to shout just as Aidan hurled a potion bomb at him. It exploded against his chest, the glass shattering and the liquid soaking him. A moment later, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he passed out. His massive form tumbled to the ground.
“Connor’s potions really are handy,” I whispered. “I ought to use them more often.”
“Hopefully you won’t need them after we figure this thing out.”
“True.” I wanted to get back to my normal life. One of tomb raiding and friends and hanging out. In my normal life, I didn’t need potion bombs loaded with sleeping spells because I just killed the demons who got in my way. I didn’t have to deal with humans. But the only way out was forward.
We nodded at each other as a signal to go, then crept silently down the hall. When we reached the end, I pushed the door slowly. It creaked open, revealing a set of stairs leading up.
So the house was above ground.
“Looks like he probably has his real house hidden by illusion, because I don’t think I saw any houses around his dummy house,” I said.
Aidan nodded and we began to climb. At the top, I nudged open the heavy wooden door and peered into a foyer. It was a grand place, all shining dark wood lit by a crystal chandelier above. The chandelier sent glittering sparkles of light on the floor.
“Bingo.” This was truly the bulldog’s house—and it was one of his mistakes. No one would believe that he lived in that modest family dwelling we’d just been in.
I stood in the doorway, trying to figure out if anyone was home. There was only silence in the house. I strained my ears, listening for music or footsteps or talking.
“I think I hear something to the left,” I whispered.
Aidan cocked his head, then jerked it toward the right. “Agreed.”
We crept out of the doorway and through the foyer, then down the wide hallway dotted with oil paintings. I suppressed a shudder at the memory of escaping Victor Orriodor’s compound as a child. His home had been just as ornate as this, with terrors down below in the basement. What was Dermot Mulvey hiding?
We found him in an office, leaned back in a c
hair with his feet propped up on the desk. He was dressed in one of his usual snappy suits and chatting into his phone, looking like the overinflated criminal blowhard that he was.
Then again, maybe I was biased.
Okay, I was definitely biased. I hated this bastard and wanted to figure out what the hell he was doing with scum like Victor Orriodor.
He faced away from the door, so we had a second before he saw us. I nodded at Aidan and we charged, each taking a side. Dermot heard us coming and surged to his feet, spinning to face us, his eyes wide.
He threw up his hands, no doubt to cast a protective shield around himself, but I leapt on him before he could. We crashed to the ground, and I scrambled on top.
“You!” he spat.
“Yep.” I grinned, then jumped off him as Aidan crouched and grabbed Dermot’s shoulders, yanking him up.
Quickly, Aidan tugged Dermot’s hands behind his back, snapping on a pair of silver handcuffs that we’d brought along for that very purpose.
“We have some questions,” I said as Aidan directed him to a chair.
“And you presume that I will answer them?” Dermot blustered.
I sat on his desk, propping my boot on a drawer handle. I was really enjoying the power switch. This bastard had threatened my deirfiúr and tossed me in prison.
I grinned at Dermot, then pulled one of my obsidian blades from the sheath at my thigh. His eyes widened before his jaw hardened.
“Steeling yourself for torture?” I asked. Frankly, I didn’t have the stomach for it, but he didn’t know that. “That’s what you’d do in this situation, isn’t it? That’s what you intended when you came to my cell at the Prison for Magical Miscreants.”
I flipped the blade up into the air, enjoying the way the light glimmered on the black glass. I also enjoyed the way Dermot swallowed hard, fear in his beady eyes. I might not have the stomach for torture, but I was no saint. I enjoyed his fear.
“It is what you had planned,” I answered for him. “Fortunately for you, I have a friend who is uncommonly good with potions. One of the best in the world, in fact.”
I pulled a little vile from my pocket and nodded at Aidan. He grabbed Dermot’s head, tilting it back. Dermot thrashed, but Aidan pinched his nose, forcing him to open his mouth. I tugged the cork out of the vial and poured the black liquid into Dermot’s mouth. Aidan pushed on Dermot’s jaw, forcing him to swallow.