Dangerous Hexes (Driftwood Mystery Book 2)

by A. L. Tyler

  I would make my plans from there.

  “You’re making it work?”

  I rolled my eyes as I stared out the window. We were a lot further East than I was used to. No mountains on the horizon. “I’m working with it.”

  “Angel doesn’t need it, but you should cut her a break. She only wants to help.”

  “Seems more like she wants something to blackmail me with,” I scoffed. “She’s standoffish and arrogant. Not qualities I like in a doctor.”

  “She’s not a doctor. She’s got some uncommon heritage. There’s fae in there a few generations back.” He paused, flicking me a quick glance to assess my mood. “She’s also a dayborn. Her father was a vampire. That might be why she sets off your alarm bells.”

  I looked sharply over at Nick. It would explain so much. “You’re her father?”

  “No,” he said definitively. “I said a vampire, not me. And I didn’t know him, either.”

  Dayborn children were exceptionally rare. Almost as rare as witches who could hear magic. The vast majority of vampires were rendered sterile by their affliction, and very few were capable of engaging a human in the kind of intimacy that would produce a child. The pool of candidates was almost exclusively daywalkers: those who escaped death by swearing allegiance to the Bleak in exchange for enchantments that returned aspects of their humanity.

  And even out of that pool, most didn’t have the time or freedom for personal relationships. Information on dayborns was limited because there were less than twenty documented and confirmed cases.

  Nick was right, though. Dayborns were known to unsettle people.

  I waited for Nick to continue. When he didn’t, I asked, “What’s she like?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Now you care.”

  “Now I care,” I nodded. “What can she do?”

  He cast me a sidelong glance. After my extended recovery that day, the sun was already getting low on the flat horizon. “She can help you with your problem. I’m not going to talk about her like she’s an exotic animal. She’s not a freak. If you want to know her, you can do that on your own.”

  I raised my chin. “You treat me like I’m a freak all the time.”

  “Only to your face.”

  My phone chimed.

  Call me when you can meet.

  Chapter 17

  I SLEPT IN THE CAR. Nick drove all night. As we approached Geyser Lane, I was starving and my whole body ached.

  I needed to purge.

  “Save it,” Nick said. “I don’t know how much firepower we’re going to need when I kick that door in.”

  Not as much as I’m packing... I burned as much of the nervous magic as I could laying a new protection on my jacket. I would never be able to make something like Nick’s protective coat alone. His protections were decades old and had been improved on by various acquaintances along the way.

  Protections like that were a gift of experience. They couldn’t be bought or manufactured in an instant, but I had to start somewhere.

  And the closer we got to our final destination, the louder the noise got.

  Ambient magic—the kind that exists everywhere, but hasn’t been woven into a spell—makes a noise like chimes turned into a waterfall. The notes are mostly perfect and random, rising and falling in volume, and all clashing together until they dissolve into the background noise of the world. I heard the sound every time I broke a spell down to its base components or disenchanted something.

  Except, as we drove, the sound wasn’t getting quieter. It was building. It took me almost fifteen minutes before I figured out what was happening.

  “Ley lines.” I frowned.

  Nick cast me a questioning glance. “You look nervous.”

  “She found a ley line,” I explained. “The natural magic is too loud where we’re going. It screws with locater spells. We couldn’t have used magic to transport ourselves if we wanted to, and anyone using magic to find Roost wouldn’t have found him.”

  Nick contemplated this information. He ran a hand over his face. “You’re saying she wanted us to drive. And we’re doing exactly what she wants. Fantastic.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s that,” I grumbled. “It’s been known to have an amplifying effect on some spells, too.”

  When we drove up to the mailbox for 2534, Nick gave a heavy sigh. The car rolled to a stop, and we both stared down the long dirt road behind the box. The road curved off in such a fashion that I couldn’t even see the house. Lined on both sides with heavy forest, I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

  Looked like a good place to get ambushed and killed.

  Nick turned the engine off but left the keys. “Stay in the car.”

  “Oh, like hell I am!”

  “I’ll need someone to call for help if this goes badly.”

  I scoffed at his logic. “Private residence means no vampires. If anyone is walking down that road alone, it’s going to be me.”

  “I’ll check it out first.”

  I shrugged, unconvinced. “What if she ambushes the car instead?”

  We stared each other down.

  Nick suddenly leaned in close to me. Our faces were only inches apart. He had me so distracted, I didn’t realize it was going to happen until it was too late.

  “Fine,” he said quietly. “We’ll go together.”

  I reached back, but his hand was already on the handle.

  “Damn,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Not fast enough.” He popped the door open.

  Nick checked his guns before we started down the path.

  “Can I have one?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  He gave me a long look, and I wondered if his trust in me was starting to waver. “Because magic-stripping bullets are issued by the Bleak. If you want some, you can ask them. Also, you don’t know jack shit about firing a gun. Also, I’m pretty sure you don’t need a gun.”

  The last part made me smile. Nick nodded toward the path, and we walked.

  “Is this a good idea?”

  Nick held up a hand to silence me as we crept forward.

  “I mean, should we be on the path? Like maybe if we went off road—”

  “Shh!”

  “I feel like we are playing into her hand!”

  “Shh!” Nick flashed an annoyed frown. “I am trying to listen for attackers.”

  I shrugged and followed. Nick gestured twice for me to slow down, but the further we went, the more certain I became that it wasn’t a trap.

  Even through the din of the ley line, there weren’t any alarms or warning bells going off. It wasn’t until we were right up at the front door of the house that I heard any orchestrated magic at all.

  It was a small red cabin with a dilapidated front porch and small windows. It couldn’t have been more than five hundred square feet altogether.

  A curse was playing low and strong, resisting the wash of the natural elements around it. The occupant of the house was unable to leave without falling victim to excruciating pain.

  I banged on the door. “George Roost! Hello?!”

  Nick put a hand on my arm to make me stop knocking. He looked confused. “Why are you yelling?”

  Because it’s loud. “Sorry.”

  He still had his gun in hand. “When he answers, kick the door in.”

  “What?”

  He nodded at the door. “Bust it in, but don’t go in. I can’t help you in there, as you may well remember.”

  “I’m not really a door kicker type—”

  The door cracked open. An eye appeared. “Yes?”

  Nick nodded at me impatiently.

  The flimsy chain lock was no match for the force I projected from my palms. When my simple spell echoed off the natural charge of the ley line, the door exploded into splinters smaller than toothpicks.

  “Jette! Damn it!” Nick hissed. He tossed his head, trying to clear his vision, but he didn’t drop his stance or his gun.
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  “Ley line! Sorry!”

  “I said to kick the door—”

  “And I said I’m not really a door kicker!”

  George Roost was scrambling backward into the house.

  “George Roost!” Nick said, spitting sawdust as he tried to summon a commanding tone. “I’m here as a handler of the Bleak—”

  “You’re here to rescue me?” The man’s eyes went wild as they darted back and forth between us.

  His file said he was in his mid-thirties, but he’d retained some teenage awkwardness. His hair had grown a little shaggy in his capture and he was wearing an old sweat suit, but he still managed to look refined as he straightened himself and stood up.

  Nick didn’t lower his gun. “Where’s Corm?”

  “Not here.” George started to walk forward.

  Nick tightened his grip on his weapon. George stopped and raised his hands.

  “Whoa there, I’m the victim here!”

  “Forgive me,” Nick said. “You’re not exactly tied up.”

  “I’m George Roost. Are you new?” George’s confusion turned to anger as his gaze flashed to me. “Is he new?”

  “Excuse me?” Nick demanded.

  “Alright. Yes, he’s new.” I rolled my eyes and put a hand on his gun arm. “He’s new. Sorry—Mr. Roost has been cursed. I forget you don’t know this stuff.”

  “He was tied up in the picture,” Nick said.

  George looked to me for help. “She said it was for dramatic effect.”

  Nick sighed and put his gun away. “Can we come in?”

  George looked uncertain. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

  I stepped in front of Nick before he could take the lead. “You’re new. Let me go first.”

  I could practically hear his teeth grinding.

  I waved a hand over the threshold, listening closely, but nothing seemed off. I stepped in and nodded, waving for Nick to follow. George stared like I was insane.

  “Who are you people?”

  Nick took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m Nicolas Warren, a handler for the Bleak. This is Jette Driftwood, she’s a former breaker and current consultant—”

  “Jette Driftwood?”

  I was already poking around the small living area, looking for anything lying in wait. A corner of the cabin had been walled off, and I imagined it must house a sleeping space and bathroom. The furniture was old and sparse, the decorations were few and kitsch.

  I turned back to face George, sure I was about to face the usual volley of questions about my theft of the Jarvais Topaz. My life story was something of a freak sideshow for the rest of the world.

  But George didn’t look fascinated. He was terrified. “You’re with him, aren’t you?”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and furrowed my brow. “Him...?”

  “Mordley.”

  My blood ran cold even as my heart rate tripled. Alex was involved in this after all.

  “Oh, gods... He found out.” George was slowly backing away from me. His hands were shaking. “I am so, so sorry. So sorry. It was Millie. I thought she already knew—please don’t kill me!”

  It didn’t help that my hands were starting to glow at the mere mention of my ex.

  “We’re not here to kill you,” Nick said. He waved me off toward the kitchen sink. “Tell me what happened.”

  “She’s with Alex Mordley!” George accused. “He swore he would kill me if I ever told!”

  “She’s not with Mordley. She came here to help you. What happened with Millie Corm? How did you end up here?”

  It was all I could do to keep my shaking hands under the running water. The cabin was turning into a sauna and I could hardly hear George’s story over the frantically climbing notes in my ears.

  “I woke up one morning and she was just there, at my dining room table. She made tea and she was drinking it at the table, and then I don’t remember anything. I woke up here. I was tied up with this stuff, and she kept demanding to know what happened to Mabe.” George took a sharp breath in. “She said she wanted to hear me say it before she killed me, and I didn’t know what to do—I mean, it was death either way, so I told her the truth! Mabe and I got divorced on paper because my parents were threatening to remove me from their will if I didn’t. She said it didn’t matter, and I didn’t think it mattered, and we went on living our lives. Things were going good for us, but she was always talking about the messed-up situation Millie was in, and then Millie and Alex had some sort of big fight—I don’t remember the details—and I gave Mabe the money.”

  “Money?” Nick said in a flat tone.

  “To give to Millie. So she could leave Alex and start a new life wherever she wanted. Mabe was going with her, to keep her safe, because she was afraid of how Alex would react.”

  A shiver ran all the way up my spine. One painful surge of magic pulsed from my hands and I turned to look at George.

  He nodded, tearful, and dropped his voice low. “I don’t know how he found out what she was planning. Mabe was just gone one day. He showed up the next, and he told me to make it disappear. He said he’d kill Millie before he let anyone take her away from him. He’d said he’d kill everyone I knew before he came for me. He killed Mabe, and he showed me these pictures—”

  George broke into tears. I shook my head in dismay. The waitress hadn’t been Alex’s first victim.

  “I distanced myself,” George went on. “I moved away, and I didn’t make friends, and I never moved on. I apologized to Millie—I tried to apologize, but she just cried. Mabe loved her so much. She just wanted to get her away from Mordley. We cried together. And then Millie let me go.”

  Nick’s eye twitched. “She—what? Why are you still here if she let you go?”

  George looked confused. “No—you said to start at the beginning. That was the beginning. It was years ago...” He looked away, and then at me. “Right after your theft. I remember, it was in the news, and Millie kept going on and on about how Mordley left her for someone who had never loved him the way she did. In her mind, you wronged him. It broke her heart all over again, and the only person she wanted was her sister, so she came after me wanting to know where Mabe was.”

  I drew in a sharp breath. Nick sat back, wiping a hand over his face.

  “A few weeks ago she came around again. She said she didn’t want to hurt me but she would kidnap me if I didn’t go willingly. She said she needed my help. Naturally, I didn’t want to aid a criminal—I know how the Bleak looks on that—so she kidnapped me. She brought me here, and made it so I couldn’t leave, and said she would let me go when the time was right.”

  Nick slowly looked over at me. Millie wasn’t just two steps ahead of us.

  She’d been planning this for years.

  Chapter 18

  NICK STEPPED OUTSIDE to make some phone calls. George was going to need a place to stay and someone to look after him until Millie was apprehended. Now that we knew it had been Millie’s goal all along to get us out of town, we needed to know what was happening back home.

  George was shaking as I helped him to the table. “I’m sorry I thought you were with him. She wouldn’t tell me anything, and I’ve had weeks to wonder, and with all the memories this has stirred up my thoughts went some strange places.”

  “It’s fine.” I smiled weakly. I knew exactly how he felt. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Oh, I can get it—”

  I put my hands on his shoulders so he wouldn’t rise. “Mr. Roost, you’re being rescued. Let me get it.”

  He looked sad and sheepish. “There’s tea in the cabinet by the sink. Thank you.”

  I started some water on the stove and got the mugs ready with teabags. After a moment of reflection, I made a third mug for Nick. He wouldn’t drink it, but vampires tended to make people nervous.

  There was no harm in keeping up the illusion.

  “Well. This is embarrassing.”

  I glanced back at George.

  He
drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe I should have fought her harder. I just didn’t want to hurt her.”

  I smiled inwardly at his assumption that he could have. She took down the experienced handler at Nick’s apartment without a scratch on either of them. While I was sure George was a competent witch, Millie was an expert criminal.

  “It’s better that you didn’t,” I assured him. “Gods know how you might have spent these last weeks if you’d been injured from the start.”

  It didn’t seem to help him much.

  “So, what was this all about?” I turned and leaned against the counter to face him.

  George shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”

  I shrugged. “You’ve had a time to think. I’m sure you’ve got to have some wild theory, and it looks like she’s checked in here a few times if you’re not out of food yet. Millie never mentioned anything? You never asked?”

  “I did ask.” He looked forlornly down at his hands. “I asked every time she came back. She never answered. She would make small talk, and she told me my apartment was being cared for, and she brought me pictures of my aquarium, but she would ignore me when I asked why.”

  I let the silence hang when he finished.

  George glanced nervously up at me. “She mentioned asking my parents for ransom once. It was early on in this—I think it was the first or second time she came back to check on me. She said she was sure my ransom would be paid soon, and I laughed. My family hasn’t seen me in years, and after the words exchanged over Mabe, they’re not going to pay out on me.” He paused. “She didn’t like that answer much. She didn’t talk a lot afterward. I offered her money, if that was what she needed, but she ignored me. She got up and left.”

  It wasn’t about money, then. If Millie needed money, she wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of kidnapping. The woman could walk into any bank and take whatever she needed.

  “I was worried someone was after her for a while.” George’s hesitant smile quickly fell to a frown. “Because maybe someone had threatened the people close to her, like Alex did to me, so maybe she was moving all of us to keep us safe. And maybe she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want me to worry.” He shook his head. “But that was all in my head, I think. Millie and I were never close. Even before Mabe died, Millie never had close friends. She didn’t like getting close to people—it was just the two of them, and I can’t imagine that’s changed.”