“Said he needed the money because his son’s going to college.”
I frowned. “How did you set a price? Normally, we’d have the gun appraiser take a look at them.”
Teag shrugged. “He told me what he wanted for them, and at that amount, we’d make a profit even if they turn out to be reproductions.”
I’m always in favor of an honest bargain, but something about the man’s story didn’t add up. If the buyer were anybody but Teag, I’d be concerned that the pistols might have been stolen, but Teag was good at running a check for something like that. Then I let my right hand hover over the box, and drew back right away.
“They’re Spookies, all right,” I said, using our term for an item that was magically dangerous. Even that brief contact gave me a single, searing image of a man in a long dark coat fighting for his life, flares of sickly green light that could only have been magic, and an awful sense of finality that told me the original owner of the guns had not survived the battle.
“Let’s put them back in the office,” I said, rattled a little from what I had seen. “Were you able to get any provenance on the pistols?” I asked, as Teag closed up the box and carried it to the back.
“A little,” he replied. “He said they belonged to a man named Josiah Winfield, back in the 1850s. I got the feeling from what he said that Winfield was kinda like a private investigator, hired to look into problems. Anyhow, the seller claimed that a lot of tall tales got told about Winfield, like stories about him fighting off warlocks and vampires.” Teag raised an eyebrow.
“That’s why you bought them,” I said. “Winfield was probably working for the Alliance. Want to bet he knew my ancestors?”
“I figured Sorren would know something about Winfield, probably even worked with him if Winfield was legitimate.”
“I’m still wondering about the timing,” I said. “It seems like too much of a coincidence for the pistols to suddenly show up now.” I texted Sorren a quick message about the pistols and Winfield, curious to see what he would say.
“I thought the same thing, but the old guy who brought them in never let on if something had spooked him into selling,” Teag said. Most people who sell magically-charged objects to us don’t say what makes them so anxious to strike a deal. Maybe they’re afraid that being haunted will hurt the price. We generally pay well enough for ‘unusual’ items that the owners make the sale on the spot. I’ve heard it’s whispered that Trifles and Folly is the best place to get rid of ‘problem’ pieces. Good for business, and good for the Alliance.
Just then my phone let me know I’d gotten a text message. “It’s from Sorren,” I said. That was odd. It was a few hours before sunset, and Sorren was usually sleeping. He’s old enough to be able to stay awake during daylight – so long as he’s in a completely dark place – but doing so drains him, so I’ve heard him say that he avoids it unless absolutely necessary. The fact that he was up now told me he was really worried about everything that was going on.
“And?” Teag asked, watching as I read the message.
“He asked if we could bring the pistols out to his house. He’ll look at them later tonight.” I paused. “Uh oh. He said to be very careful. ‘Make sure you’re protected.’” I looked up and met Teag’s gaze.
“He sounds worried.”
“Yeah. So am I. I think all of the things that are going on are related, I’m just not sure how. But if someone is out to get Sorren, we’re bound to be in the crosshairs, too.”
I HAD ONLY been out to Sorren’s house a few times. It was out in the country, not terribly far from Charleston, but far enough to feel separate from the bustle of the city. The house was just a bit newer than antebellum, small by former plantation standards. The barns held thoroughbred horses, not farm equipment, and the home itself was tastefully decorated. Sorren had told me that the house was one of several he kept around the world, managed through third parties to hide his longevity, and staffed by a handful of loyal and discreet long-time servants.
“Any word from Sorren on the trouble with the other locations?” Teag asked as we headed up the long driveway.
I shook my head. “No, but he may have more to tell us when we see him. Whoever’s been targeting Sorren’s connections isn’t likely to let up until he gets what he wants.” Sorren was fairly closed-mouth about the extent of the Alliance’s operations. Part of me was curious, but I figured that it was Sorren’s way of protecting us. Knowledge was a dangerous thing in our business.
The home at the end of the road was framed by an allée of live oak trees, with white pillars, large windows and a wide front porch. Carefully tended gardens graced both sides of the entrance. “Those flowers are gorgeous,” Teag noted. “It’s too bad Sorren never gets to see them in sunlight.”
I knew from experience that Sorren’s home was protected by several types of magical wardings, even more elaborate than the ones Lucinda had placed around Teag and my homes and the store. That was in addition to a modern security system. The wardings were tuned to keep out magical threats and supernatural predators, and while I could feel a shimmer of energy as we crossed the protective barriers, I saw nothing out of the ordinary.
A droning buzz made me look up. Through the canopy of live oak branches, I glimpsed a dark shape in the sky. We were heading for the house not long before sundown. I figured that by the time we got settled in, Sorren would be rising for the night.
“That helicopter looks awfully low,” Teag said, squinting.
“And it’s coming in at the wrong angle to land,” I said, worried as the chopper headed straight for Sorren’s house.
“It’s not going to land – it’s going to crash!” Teag slammed on the brakes. The helicopter slammed into the antebellum house. I threw my arms up over my face to protect myself and huddled in a crash position, eyes squeezed shut.
The explosion rocked our car although we were still half a mile away, and the fireball was so bright it flared red through my closed eyelids. When I dared to raise my head, the whole building was on fire. Its roof was gone, the windows were blown out, and flames leaped into the sky.
“Come on!” I said, unfastening my seatbelt and opening my door. “Sorren’s in there – or at least his staff are!”
Teag was right behind me as we jogged closer to the site of the explosion. “There’s no way a regular helicopter would cause that big of an explosion,” Teag said as we surveyed the damage.
“You think it was a bomb?”
Teag nodded. “Yeah. And flying in got around Sorren’s wardings since it wasn’t magic.”
“A suicide pilot?” The heat kept us from getting anywhere near the remains of the house, but I hoped that if anyone had escaped, we might be able to help get the injured clear of the blast zone.
“Maybe,” Teag said. “Or it could have been remote controlled. No way to tell until the fire stops burning.”
Fortunately, the wind was taking the smoke away from us as we circled the house. Around back, we found a dazed woman lying in the yard. Teag and I rushed over. Her face was red with the heat and her clothing was scorched in places from the blast, but she was breathing, and her eyes fluttered open as we knelt next to her.
“Can you move?” I asked, eyeing how close we were to the house. It was hot enough that sweat was pouring down my face and my skin felt sunburned. Burning embers floated down all around us, and I flinched as one sizzled against my skin.
The woman nodded, and I got under her shoulder, helping her limp far enough away to be out of the range of the embers and upwind of the smoke. A few moments later, Teag joined us. He was supporting a dazed-looking man with a bloody gash on his forehead.
My heart broke as I stared at Sorren’s burning house. There was no way we could possibly go inside without full firefighting gear, and given how hot the flames were and how much of the structure was burning, I wasn’t even sure the firefighters would chance it.
“They’re inside,” the woman rasped.
“Who?
” I asked.
“The rest of the staff.”
“How many?” Teag asked. He was eyeing the house, but I knew from the look on his face that he, too, had concluded that going in would be suicide. On my few prior visits, I had only met a butler and a housekeeper. I was betting a house this size needed more people than that to maintain it, and I feared for anyone who had been inside when the ’copter hit.
“Two,” she croaked. “Ben was in the garden with me,” she added with a nod toward the man.
Running footsteps made us turn, expecting an assailant. Instead, a woman with red hair tied back in a thick braid, jeans and a work shirt came from the direction of the horse barn, which was far enough away to be out of danger.
“Patsy! Ben!” she cried out, then drew up short at the sight of us. “Who are you?”
“We work for Sorren, at Trifles and Folly,” I explained. “We came by to drop off a package for him.”
“Well, it’s good you weren’t a little bit earlier, or you and your package would be in there,” she said with a jerk of her head. “I’m Anna, and I take care of the horses.”
I felt sick, staring at the fire as the house was rapidly reduced to a charred shell. Did Sorren have his day crypt under the house? If he did, will the heat affect him even if the flames can’t reach him? And can he get out, if the house collapses on top of the cellar?
In the distance, I could hear sirens. Teag and I exchanged a glance that told me we were on the same wavelength. Detective Monroe is going to have a field day finding us here.
“Get out of here,” Anna said. “Go out the back way. It’s unpaved and unmarked, so you won’t run into the cops and the firefighters on the way out. I’ll see to Patsy and Ben.”
Teag and I nodded our thanks and ran for the car. The sirens were closer, and I did not want to end up in a holding cell while Detective Monroe tried to figure out what to do about us. Teag’s car bumped and jostled as we stayed to the outer edge of the driveway as it circled the burning house, not wanting to leave tell-tale tracks on the grass. We picked up speed as we headed past the horse barn, and followed the two lines of bare dirt that marked the maintenance road. I held my breath as we reached the main thoroughfare, but let out a sigh of relief as I realized it was not the same road we had come in on; this stretch was deserted.
I didn’t start breathing evenly again until we were halfway back to the city. “Wow,” I said.
Teag had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah,” he replied. I was still in shock, and I figured he was, too. Things blow up in the movies all the time, but when your friend’s house explodes right in front of you, and you know there were people inside you couldn’t help, words just aren’t sufficient.
“Do you think he –” I started, but couldn’t finish.
Teag shrugged, with a pained look on his face. “No way to know,” he said. “He’s survived this long. It’s probably not the first time someone’s tried to burn him out.”
I would be thrilled if Sorren survived the attack, but that didn’t blunt the loss of his staff. They had been in the wrong place at the wrong time – as we nearly were – and whoever had caused the explosion didn’t care about civilian casualties. Sorren would be devastated. He chose his household staff very carefully, and many had been with him for years. A few, those trusted with his secret, had served him for decades. Losing them would be like losing family.
“Whoever did this isn’t just trying to destroy Sorren,” I said, feeling anger rush in to push grief aside. “Whoever’s doing these things wants to hurt as many of Sorren’s people as possible in the process. He’s right – someone’s got a vendetta against him.”
“After all the years Sorren has been with the Alliance, he’s probably made more than a few immortals angry,” Teag replied. “But why now? And who?” Sariel, I thought. But until we could prove it, we couldn’t fight anything, and I was ready to do some fighting.
Teag was careful to keep to the speed limit. We did not need to be pulled over anywhere close to the explosion. He chanced a look at me. “Do you have any contacts at the Alliance? Anyone you could connect with?” He didn’t have to finish the thought. In case Sorren is really gone.
I shook my head, and forced myself not to tear up, although it felt like I had a rock in my throat. “No. Sorren was my only direct contact. He said it was safer that way.”
“Daniel Hunter knows how to contact the Alliance.”
I glared at him. “Daniel Hunter might be involved in the explosion. I don’t like him and I don’t trust him.”
“I agree. But he is a link. Just something to keep in mind.”
I crossed my arms, still badly rattled by what had happened. Someone had tried to kill Sorren. Someone had almost killed us. And whoever it was had almost certainly killed whichever unlucky staff members had been in the house at the time of the blast. I didn’t want justice. I wanted revenge.
“Let’s go back to your place,” Teag suggested. “We can see what’s on the news, and I can do some digging online to see what the police and fire investigators found out.”
“What about Anthony?”
“He’s going to be working late again. Unless you’d rather come to our place. If it would make you feel better, you can even pick up Baxter and spend the night.”
Much as I appreciated the offer, I declined the invitation. When we got to my house, I checked to make sure Lucinda’s wardings were in place. Since I lived downtown, I was hopeful that whoever had dropped a helicopter on Sorren’s house wouldn’t do something quite so splashy in a more populated area, but I still resolved to talk to Lucinda about assuring I was protected from overhead threats the next time I saw her.
Teag seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I’ll check the wardings on our house when I get home,” he said. “Just in case.”
Baxter greeted both of us with furry frenzy, and I was particularly glad to cuddle with him as I switched on the TV. Teag poured us each a glass of wine. I had lasagna in the freezer that would make a good emergency dinner, and enough lettuce for a salad, so we were covered for supper. I put the lasagna in the oven and took a quick shower to get the smell of smoke and the light covering of soot off my skin and out of my hair, then I settled in on the couch to channel surf coverage of the explosion, while Teag got a shower and went in my office to work his magic on the web.
“Minute-by-minute coverage of the recent bombing –”
“We’ll give you the latest on what could be a terrorist attack right here in Charleston –”
“Reporters are on the scene for updates on a helicopter crash and house fire –”
In each case, a perfectly-coiffed news reporter looked earnestly into the camera against a background of smoke and flames. I stifled a sob as one of the cameras panned to show the scene. Sorren’s magnificent old mansion had been reduced to rubble and a few burnt walls.
My phone rang, and I snatched it out of my pocket, hoping it was Sorren. Father Anne’s number came up, and her voice was worried. “Cassidy – I’m watching the news and that house fire, is that Sorren’s place?”
“Yes it is,” I confirmed, but I was leery of going into more detail over the phone. “We haven’t heard from him, and we don’t know any details. But if we find out something, I’ll let you know.”
Lucinda called a few moments later, and I told her the same thing. The next time my phone rang, I did not recognize the number, but the voice was familiar, if surprising.
“I told you this wasn’t a game.” Daniel Hunter’s voice was a growl.
“It’s about time you returned my calls,” I said, sorrow turning quickly to anger. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
“Doesn’t matter. Someone got past your boss’s defenses. Not too many people could do that. Are you ready to take this seriously yet?”
His arrogance made me angry, and I was already in the mood to hit something. “I’ve always taken this seriously,” I snapped. “Sorren asked me to set up a
meeting with you. What can you help us do to fight the problem?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” Hunter replied, with a tone that said he enjoyed being insufferable. “I’ve been watching the power spikes in the magic around here. I think that something is trying to come through to our world from somewhere else, maybe bring a few of its buddies with it. Whatever it is feeds on the ghosts for energy, and it’s munched people on staircases, too. I’m trying to get ahead of it, and you should be doing that, too, unless you want it all to fall apart on your watch.” He paused. “Let’s wait on a meeting until we see whether Sorren is still around or not.” He hung up on me before I could reply.
All Hunter’s talking had made me miss the updates about the explosion. I flipped through the channels quickly.
“ – helicopter seen right before the explosion…”
“ – no flight plan filed, not sure who it belonged to…”
“ – house owned by an old family trust, not yet able to find out who lived there…”
I froze as the next channel showed smoldering ruins and EMTs carrying out a stretcher with a body under a white sheet. “No word yet on whose remains were found in the wreckage of the house. Police say three bodies have been recovered, but given the nature of the explosion, it might be some time before we discover who they were.”
The reporters seemed so detached, and while I knew that was their job, tonight I wanted everyone else to be stirred by the same rage and need for vengeance I felt, the anger that propped me up and kept me from sinking into despair.
I knew the stories wouldn’t update again for a while, so I turned the volume down and leaned back on the couch. Whenever I shut my eyes, I saw the helicopter falling from the sky, saw it hit the house and explode, and watched flames shooting higher than the tallest trees.
I must have fallen asleep, because Teag woke me by calling my name. I shook my head to clear it, and turned up the volume on the news since the background footage had changed again.
“Helicopter was stolen –”
Vendetta (Deadly Curiosities Book 2) Page 17