Reach for You

by Pat Esden

  Selena tsked. “Well, obviously. But that’s not important.”

  I sucked in a breath, to finish righting my brain, then interrupted. “Actually, it is—if we want to get back into the house and take another look around.”

  Kate handed the phone back to me. “It also confirms our other suspicions.”

  “About what?” Hope fluttered in my chest. Kate had said she and Zach were going to do some investigating on the Internet while we were gone. It sounded like they’d discovered something.

  “There’s been chatter on the Dark Net. It seems the Sons of Ophiuchus are gathering this Friday for some sort of special meeting.”

  “Sons of Ophiuchus? A meeting?” I said, totally mystified. “What are you talking about?”

  “The plaque you photographed. The twisted snake with the motto around it. That’s their emblem.”

  “Ah—I’m assuming there’s a connection to a serpent wrestler here somewhere?” I said, though I still didn’t get it.

  Kate scoffed. “Of course. The Serpent Wrestler is another name for the constellation Ophiuchus. You are familiar with that, aren’t you?”

  I cringed. “Stars aren’t exactly my thing.”

  “Don’t feel bad.” Selena tried to sound consoling. “I knew the constellation had two names and that Ophiuchus is the God of Healing, plus I looked at The Serpent Wrestler blog. But even I don’t know what she’s getting at.” Her eyes sliced toward Kate. “What I also want to know is why no one ever mentioned this Sons of Ophiuchus group to me. If you had, then I might have been at least a little suspicious when Newt told me his tattoo was a lacrosse thing.”

  Kate lifted her chin. “We didn’t mention them because we’ve never considered the Sons a threat. However, a boy using you to get close to our family has been a concern for some time.”

  “Don’t worry,” Selena snapped. “Newt’s going to regret this big time.”

  “I imagine he will.” Kate squeezed the bridge of her nose. After a moment, she cleared her throat and continued. “At any rate, the Sons are a rather ineffectual, aging organization—or so we believed. They’ve been around since ancient times. Doctors, alchemists, men devoted to science to a large extent. It’s their conviction—and probably rightly so—that the study of ancient medicine, religious practices, and cultures holds clues to extending life, a sort of immortality that once existed and was lost as we evolved, or perhaps a secret gifted to men such as Sumerian Kings and Nicolas Flamel by visitors from other solar systems.”

  The Professor touched Kate’s arm lightly. “Now that I think about it, I do believe I’ve run across references to this group. If I’m not mistaken, Ponce de León was involved with them—and Herodotus.”

  Kate nodded. “Them and many others. According to our family’s records, they even provided refuge for witches during the Inquisition. However, we’ve long suspected those witches suffered far worse fates than the ones who were left in the Inquisitors’ hands.”

  I swallowed hard. Worse than being burned alive? Images flashed into my head: needles being driven under fingernails and into eyes, evisceration, filleting . . . I gritted my teeth, bringing the gruesome parade of ways to get information out of someone to a halt. I met Kate’s gaze. “Who belongs to this group now?”

  “My best guess is that the Sons have developed a new core membership, perhaps rooted somewhere in the pharmacology industry, that would fit with their goals and might explain their sudden resurgence and financial stability.”

  The throb and ache of my bruised muscles retreated, overshadowed by the power of a sudden chill. She was talking megacorporations and international ties. Serious power and wealth. I took a deep breath. “Are you thinking they kidnapped Lotli because they believe she knows the secret to extended life? Why didn’t they just barter with Zea for the information? She seems willing to do pretty much whatever he asks. For that matter, Zea probably knows the secret, too.”

  Selena waved her hand like a schoolgirl. “I know. It’s simple. We found Lotli and Zea before the Sons had a chance to make their move. Then we brought her to Moonhill. They think we’re after the same thing.”

  Chair legs scraped as the Professor slumped down at the glass-topped porch table. His gaze darted back up to us. “There is another disagreeable possibility. Perhaps they aren’t after that secret. They could want her flute-magic—so they can control the veil between life and death. It’s another route to immortality.”

  “That could be,” Kate said. “But whatever their reason, it all comes back to Friday and the wedding.”

  I rubbed my neck, letting everything sink in. “So you think the wedding is really a cover for this meeting the Sons are having?” I asked. I hesitated, then took that train of thought to the next level. “You think they kidnapped Lotli and this meeting somehow involves her?”

  Selena heaved a frustrated breath. “We wouldn’t have to be guessing about any of this if I could break through the magic fence and see where Lotli is.”

  “Don’t rule that out yet,” Kate said. “I’ve run into fences like that before. They are intended to hide magic from the outside world without disturbing the flow of normal human activities. A person can walk through one without detecting anything, but try to use psychic energy to pass and . . . Well, you felt the results.”

  Selena straightened. “You’re saying we can bypass it?”

  “The area encompassed by the fence won’t be large, tennis court-size at the most. Once someone walks through the fence and is in the center, they’d be able to scry unhampered—though by that point Lotli should be in sight.”

  The door to the house flung open and Selena’s little brother, Zachary, careened out onto the terrace, his spiked hair jutting out at all angles, his eyes glistening with excitement. The Professor had been asked to tutor him partly because the kid was Mensa smart, but also to keep him out of trouble. A step behind him was his and Selena’s mom, Olya, her ratty black cardigan flying out behind her.

  Olya’s arms fluttered in the air. “Selena, sweetheart, what were you thinking? Breaking into a house! If you had gotten caught—” As if too overwhelmed to speak, her throaty Eastern European accent deepened and she sank into a chair across the table from the Professor.

  Zachary snickered. “I think it’s cool.”

  “It was not cool. It was dangerous,” Olya said. The worry dropped from her face, replaced by excitement as her gaze swooped toward me. “Oh, yes. We have good news. Your dad—all the men will be home from Slovenia first thing in the morning.”

  It took a second for what she’d said to register. I’d kind of lost track of time. But this was great. Dad being here would make everything so much easier. “That’s fantastic. What time?”

  “It depends on traffic or if they can get a private plane up from Boston.” She turned to Kate. “They want to go after Lotli right away.”

  Kate turned away, pacing two steps before turning back. “Then we don’t have a choice. Magic fence or not, we need to at least try scrying again.”

  Selena nodded. “I agree. When I scried before it felt like Lotli was in a riding stable. Part of that was because the magic gave me a shock like an electric fence. But I also sensed lots of wood, rope, and exposed beams like a barn. The invitation said the wedding is at a yacht club. What if I mistook a boathouse for a stable?” She grinned. “Instead of using a personal item to locate Lotli, why don’t we just remotely check out the energy around the yacht club? See if we can sense the fence’s magic.”

  Everyone agreed this was a fabulous idea, even Kate. But I wasn’t so sure. The idea of focusing on sensing magic rather than scrying for Lotli bothered me. Chase getting trapped in the djinn realm had partly happened because of a hummingbird egg pendant that Lotli had given me as a friendship gift. Olya had tested it and said she couldn’t sense any magic. But later, when I’d broken it in the realm during a fit of jealousy, it had exploded and temporarily nullified the magic oil we were wearing, allowing the genies to see that we were
human.

  I clamped my eyes shut for a second, wishing I could go back and change that moment. If only I hadn’t gotten so angry, then Chase wouldn’t have gotten trapped. Mother would be safe, too. Unfortunately, changing the past was impossible. All I could do was move forward and right those wrongs.

  “If sensing magic is so reliable,” I said, careful to not sound snotty, “then why didn’t Olya—or any of you for that matter—notice that the pendant Lotli gave me was magic?”

  The Professor leaned forward, his eyes going to Kate. “That’s not a half-bad question.”

  “Fortunately, there’s a simple answer,” she said. “The egg could have been a conduit designed to absorb magic from outside itself and store it. In other words, the magic went into the egg after Olya tested it.”

  Selena snorted. “That doesn’t make sense. Annie doesn’t have any special magic abilities it could have absorbed.” Her gaze met mine. “You don’t, right?”

  I laughed. “Definitely not—though, I did feel better once the pendant was gone.”

  “That is understandable.” Olya swept her hand across the top of the table, as if laying out her logic on its surface. “All living things have energy that can be weakened or strengthened. Magic is nothing more than that energy enhanced innately or through practice.” She hung her head. “I am ashamed I did not realize what the pendant could do.”

  I smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it.” And I meant it. The anger bristling inside me was aimed at Lotli. Once we found her, I’d confront her about the pendant. I deserved the blame for the failed rescue, but that didn’t mean I had to put up with her playing me for a fool. She’d meant for the pendant to suck my energy from me, or to collect power from the djinn realm itself. Put simply, Lotli had used me. But what had she hoped to gain?

  I stared past Olya, out toward the gardens and the ocean beyond. There was another thing I couldn’t get out of my mind. I’d seen Lotli wrap blue and green strands of Chase’s yarn around her flute and then coat them with beeswax as if she were doing a spell. True, unlike the egg, nothing had happened because of the yarn. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it served a purpose beyond simple ornamentation, though again Olya and Kate had thought it innocent.

  Less than five minutes later, the Professor, Zachary, and I headed inside so Selena and the older women could get into the zone and do their remote scan of the yacht club. When we reached the front foyer, Zach and the Professor turned toward the library and I started up the main staircase.

  Dad would be home in the morning. In the meantime, I could rest up and go on my own reconnaissance trip to the yacht club via the Internet. See if I could find out more about its location and who owned it. I could also dig into the Sons of Ophiuchus. Why did secret societies always have such long and complicated histories? Sumerian Kings, Nicolas Flamel, Ponce de León, Herodotus . . . I was good at history, but checking out all those guys was going to be a cross-time-and-culture marathon of history lessons.

  I reached the top of the stairs and was about to turn toward my room, when it happened again: The same eerie sensation that had overtaken me on the terrace, dreamlike, languid, time whirling around me. My head felt heavy, yet everything became sharper and more heightened. Dust motes glistened in a gold shaft of light. The far-off gong of a grandfather clock resounded as loud as though I stood right next to it. The scent of beeswax and lemon furniture polish filled my nostrils, surreally intense. I was in this world. I was certain of that. But what was happening? Was it Chase? Was he here, somehow?

  Warmth brushed my skin. I didn’t dare move as it swept my jawline, down my throat and arms. I could almost smell him, almost taste him, mingling with the beeswax and lemon—

  Then, as swiftly as it had come, the moment vanished. The clock gonged one more time, distant, barely audible. The shaft of light muted, dissolving into a hint of brightness as time moved on. There were no smells. Not a trace of anything.

  An almost unbearable sense of loss weighed inside me. My chest ached with the need to be with him. Tears burned in my eyes. I covered my face with my hands. There had to be a way to make the moment last longer, so I could really feel his touch, hear his voice. There had to be a special ritual or a time or place—

  A special place?

  A tingle of hope fluttered in my chest. I turned on my heel and fled back down the stairs, out the front door and to the garage. I snagged the keys to the newest ATV from the pegboard and Tibbs’s old work jacket off a hook. The jacket was stained with oil and the sleeves hung down way beyond my hands. But he wouldn’t care if I borrowed it, and even if he did, I didn’t care right now. I squashed on a helmet and straddled the ATV.

  CHAPTER 5

  If I give you my heart, if I pledge my soul,

  Will you come back, will you be mine forever?

  If I reach in the darkness, if I dare the night,

  Will you be there, will you be there forever?

  From “Forever Mine”

  www.NorthTunes.com

  A minute later, I was speeding up the driveway. Dusk was deepening, shadows falling quickly. At the main gate, I didn’t turn into Chase’s cottage. Instead, I steered the ATV in the opposite direction, down a trail-like maintenance road that ran along the southern border of Moonhill’s property. The road wound through an overgrown pasture and into the woods, where it dead-ended in a wide spot surrounded by giant pine trees.

  I parked the ATV and flew into the darkening woods, the pine’s fragrant carpet soft beneath my footsteps. I swept past the place where less than a month ago Chase and I had made love for the first time and out onto a rocky point.

  A warm breeze pushed my hair from my face. The scent of the ocean filled my nose. This was Chase’s favorite place, his secret clifftop sanctuary, overlooking the broad ocean on one side and Port St. Claire’s harbor on the other. The surreal sensation of Chase being with me was gone. But if any place could bring him back, it was here.

  Relief settled over me and I sunk down onto the clifftop, sitting with my knees pulled up to my chest. Chase. I stared out at the evening sky, letting my head fill with the rhythmic beat of waves against the rocks, the cry of a lone gull, the whisper of the breeze. I breathed in deep through my nose, letting it out slowly through my mouth, the way Selena did when she focused and scried. I brought Chase’s face to mind: his ocean-gray eyes, the slope of his jaw, the twitch in his cheek when he tried not to smile. The bristle of his morning beard. The smoothness after he shaved. The taste of water on his lips when we made love in the shower. The way he flinched when my tongue touched the brand Malphic had burned into the skin, just below his collarbone.

  My heartbeat slowed, seeming to take on the rhythm of the waves. I balled up Tibbs’s jacket. Using it as a pillow, I laid back. Above me, dark clouds rushed across the twilight sky. The warmth of the rock beneath me seeped into my muscles. Despite the breeze and clouds, I was warm. Comfortable. I let my mind drift, trying to go back to that moment in time on the terrace.

  I could feel myself relaxing, slipping, closer and closer toward sleep. When I was little, sometimes, if I stayed in the place between wake and sleep long enough, I could bring on the dream that I wanted: flying, riding horses into the sea . . . Maybe this time, if I wished hard enough—

  * * *

  The comforting warmth surrounding me grows hotter, hot as if I lay under a midday sun instead of twilight and clouds. Silhouetted against the sky, Chase’s outline appears on the edge of the cliff, his blue aura shimmering, marking him as part genie. He wears the leather armor, flowing white pants, and bracers I last saw him in. His temporary tattoos, cryptic swirls and lettering applied for the djinn’s full moon festival, glow like blue volcano fissures.

  He prowls toward me, more aura than man, a shining comet made of sparks and heat. He kneels beside me, fingers brushing my hair back from my face, his lips nearing mine. I long to reach for him, but I’m drifting close to dreamland and can only lie there, lost in the memory of past kisses
, intoxicated by the thought of the dream kiss I’m certain is about to come.

  His hands rest on either side of my arms. The weight of him presses against me. Lips graze my throat. He caresses my face, fingertips sending shudders of desire through my body. Chase. My Chase.

  I roll onto my side and he’s there, lying alongside me, beautiful eyes gazing into mine. He kisses my palm, then folds my fingers around it as if telling me to keep the kiss safe for later, for after dreamland. I rest my cheek against his chest. Leather. Pine trees. Ocean air. The slow, relentless beat of his heart. I slip my fingertips under his leather armor. Warm skin. Firm muscles. Soft belly hair. My fingers sense something else. Slick and sticky. Another smell. Blood.

  “I love you,” he whispers, his voice full of sadness.

  * * *

  Cold. Something cold pinged my arm. A second later, another ping.

  My eyes flashed open. Rain!

  Thunder rumbled, wind bent the pines, and the patter of drops transformed into a deluge.

  I leapt to my feet, grabbed Tibbs’s jacket—and noticed something dark red on my fingertips, vanishing quickly as the rain diluted it, washing away: Blood.

  My body went numb. My thoughts frozen.

  The thunder growled. The waves boomed against the rocks, their spray hissing skyward and falling all around me. I dropped the jacket and stared at my hands. Blood, now gone.

  Logic told me one of the cuts on my arms had broken open. Diluted by water, even a pinprick could look like a gusher.

  I ran my hands over my arms, searching for tender spots, torn scabs, or any trace of lingering blood. Nothing.

  My breath stalled in my throat. Chase’s mother. My mother. The genie Malphic had visited both of them in their dreams. Malphic had eventually kidnapped my mom and taken her to his harem. He hadn’t taken Chase’s mom, but she’d ended up in Beach Rose House, diagnosed as insane. Could Chase do the same thing as his father now? Had he reached across the veil to me? That was why I’d come here, hoping to draw him to me.