Spell of Vanishing

by Anna Abner

“Bless your heart for worrying,” Rebecca said, “but, no, I came by to see you.”

  “Me?” Talia sounded a little horrified. “What for?”

  Was she that frightening? “I wanted to give you something.” But now she wasn’t so sure. She twisted the huge diamond on her left finger, still not accustomed to the feel of its weight.

  Cole bounded downstairs grinning. “Hello, Becca.” He spotted her ring. “Good Lord, what a beautiful diamond.” When he held out a hand, she placed hers against his palm.

  “Holden proposed,” she said, a flush of joy overheating her cheeks.

  “I knew it.” He grinned. “I saw a gleam in his eye when he brought you into my shop. It must’ve been love at first sight.”

  “I guess it was,” she answered. “How are you?”

  “Better.” He sidled up next to Talia, his shoulder brushing hers. “What’s going on?”

  Speaking of gleaming eyes, Cole was giving off serious, falling-in-love vibes. Suppressing a goofy smile, she said, “I brought a gift for you. For both of you.” She slipped a piece of wrinkled paper out of her purse, the one with a rune and a single Latin word on it, and handed it to Talia.

  The woman studied the page. “It’s a spell?”

  “It is,” Becca said. “I’m going to be upfront. Derek Walker gave it to me, but Holden swears it’s not a trap. It’s actually more of a present.”

  “I’ve seen spells like it before,” Cole said, frowning. “But why are you giving it to us?”

  “Because I’m not casting,” she confessed, still embarrassed by the truth though Holden’s support had made the decision much easier. “And I got the feeling the other night you two could use a little joy.”

  “Thank you,” Talia said. Then she glanced between Cole and Rebecca and seemed to come to a decision. “I’ll go see what we have to drink,” she said and escaped into the kitchen.

  “Why aren’t you casting?” Cole asked, offering her a seat on an ancient sofa.

  She shook her head, preferring to stand. “It’s complicated,” Rebecca said. “I never asked for this. I don’t want it. Not that I don’t have complete respect for you and Holden and all the others. It’s just not for me.”

  She admired Cole for everything he’d done for both her and her friends, but she wasn’t like him.

  “That’s fair.”

  Talia made rustling noises in the kitchen. A drawer closed.

  Rebecca leaned toward Cole. “I have a question,” she said, lowering her voice. “Why didn’t you go to Dani when you needed help? You know she’d do anything for you. Why disappear like that and worry us all to death?”

  He blew out a long, pained breath. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want,” he said. “I already hurt her so badly. I couldn’t trust myself not to hurt her again. I needed to be alone.”

  “You’re not alone, though, are you?” she asked, smiling like a kid with a secret. By the way he looked at Talia, the way he touched her, the way he appeared lost when she wasn’t beside him, Becca knew he’d fallen hard for the woman.

  Before he could answer, Talia returned with cold bottles of water. “Thanks for the spell,” she said as she handed Becca a drink. “That was nice of you.”

  There was tension around Talia’s edges as if she couldn’t completely relax. Losing a family member did that to a person.

  “Have you heard anything about your nephew?” Rebecca asked

  “No.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Thirteen days.”

  “And you don’t have any clues?” Becca pressed. “Not an instinct, a hint, an overheard conversation? Nothing?”

  “Nothing.”

  The cabal was a group of heartless sociopaths. To go after an adult caster was one thing, but to touch an innocent child was crossing about a thousand lines. Though, in a way, Talia was lucky. She’d stumbled upon the one man strong enough to stop them.

  “Well, I should get going,” Becca said. “Thanks for the water, and stay in touch.”

  “Before you leave, I have a favor to ask you.” Cole glanced up at the aging staircase and the water-damaged ceiling above. “I’ve recently made up my mind. Do you still have your Realtor license?”

  “You bet I do.”

  “Do you think you could sell this house for me?”

  She sucked in a tiny, delighted gasp. “Of course I will. It’s going to take some polish, but that happens to be my specialty.” She grinned. “I’ll start the ball rolling immediately.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Talia waved good-bye to Rebecca once more, and then closed the front door.

  “Do you want to practice spells?” Cole asked.

  But she couldn’t focus on the question. Something Rebecca said had stuck with her. She did have a hint where Sylvester was being kept. Someone in the cabal had sent Adrian a photograph of his prison.

  Had the entire picture been doctored? Or had Talia been under the influence of a witch’s spell when it had been taken? What if none of the picture had been manipulated?

  If Talia found him, she could prevent Cole and his friends from facing the White Wraith. She could protect everyone.

  “I need to go back to the Carver’s house,” she said, crossing the room in a rush.

  “What? No.” Cole’s green eyes tracked her movements as she collected her purse and sandals. “The Dark Caster will have the whole place wired. He’ll definitely have spirits spying twenty-four seven. Not to mention, the FBI and local police are investigating you in the disappearance of your nephew.” He shook his head emphatically. “Bad idea. We should wait for Dani and Holden and attack the wraith like we planned.”

  “I can’t wait, and none of that other stuff matters.” She slipped into her shoes and palmed her car keys. “I wasn’t in my right mind the last time we went through there. I want to look around again. I want to cast some spells.”

  “And when the White Wraith rolls up to kill you?” he asked, reluctantly gathering his cell phone in her wake.

  “It’s a chance I have to take.” She paused to meet his worried gaze. “We can’t fight the wraith. Not six of us. Not a thousand of us. She’s too powerful. She’ll have the entire cabal plus the Dark Caster behind her. Our best chance, as far as I can see, is finding Sylvester.”

  Grumbling, he tied on his boots and followed her outside. “Just a quick onceover, and then we’re out of there.”

  * * *

  Cole watched the Carver’s house as Talia drove slowly past. No For Sale sign out front, no police tape, no moving truck. It was as if its owner was still alive and nothing bad had ever happened on the property.

  They parked at the gas station down the street and walked through alleys and access roads. Letting themselves in the rear gate, they startled a large crow from its perch. The third one Cole had seen. As he watched it glide over the roof of the Carver’s house, he couldn’t help thinking someone was going to die today.

  Staring at the last place he’d seen the bird, he tried to stay calm and focus, but he couldn’t shake the feeling the universe was sending him omens.

  Talia ducked inside the still unlocked kitchen door and, after a silent plea for help to whoever might be listening, he followed.

  Cole felt the magic shrouding the house the moment he crossed the threshold, like passing through a filmy curtain. Someone had been there recently and cast a whole mess of new spells on the property. It wasn’t the same house at all.

  “I’m stuck outside,” Stephanie announced, sounding none too happy. “What the hell?”

  “I may enter,” Hugh said. “I will accompany you, miss.”

  Stephanie was taken aback. “Why can he go inside, and I can’t? Anyone else find that strange?”

  Cole started to reply when he lost sight of Talia and hurried to catch up. “Slow down. We might not even be seeing what we think we’re seeing.” His spider sense was tingling. Big time. He did not want to be there. “I can’t tell what’s real.” He stuffed hi
s hands in his pockets to hide the tremors. “And Steph can’t enter. We need to get the hell out of here.”

  “I’ll work fast.” She’d already drawn a spell circle on the living room carpet.

  “Let me,” he said, reaching for her.

  She swatted his hands. “I don’t want anymore blood spilt on my account.” She nodded sharply. “I got it. I can do this.”

  “I’m going to get Dani and David,” Steph shouted through the walls. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He got a real bad feeling when Talia stepped into her circle, like it was exactly what their enemies were hoping would happen. Like they were hiding in plain sight just waiting for her to trip up and make a rookie mistake.

  “Reveal Sylvester,” she cast. “Show me my nephew.”

  Frantic to speed up the search, Cole left her in the living room to scan the rest of the house, but the more distance between them, the less trustworthy his vision became. Shapes grew hazy. Lights flickered even though none were on and the power was probably disabled. None of it a good sign.

  As he traversed the narrow hallway, peering into unfurnished bedrooms and a tiny hall bathroom, he listened to Talia cast, her voice becoming increasingly desperate. Whatever she was trying wasn’t working.

  The air crackled, and all he could compare it to was the way the air pressure shifted right before a hurricane. But this was no storm hitting the house. He jogged back into the living room just as the White Wraith stepped through the front door.

  Her dark hair was pulled into a jaunty ponytail crowning a short pastel romper, but the rage behind her eyes belied the sorority girl ensemble. She sneered coldly at Talia. “There you are, you lying little snake.”

  “Before you say a word,” Talia said, sticking to her circle like glue, “I want to see Sylvester. I want to know he’s safe.”

  The witch slowly, methodically cracked the knuckles in her right hand and then her left. “Did you think all you had to do was cast a nightmare spell on Burkov and you’d have our everlasting gratitude?”

  Cole’s mouth went dry. No. That wasn’t right.

  Talia wouldn’t.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her expression registered both guilt and fear.

  Rounding on the wraith, she said, “I did everything you asked me to do. Let me see him.”

  Cole flashed back to the nightmare, and he could still smell the fresh blood and feel the gore on his hands and Talia had done that to him? Talia had tortured him to the brink of insanity?

  “Bitch, your usefulness is gone.” The wraith smirked. “Drown.”

  Talia tensed, her face paling to white. She grabbed her throat, but the only sound she managed was a gurgle.

  Terror shrieking through him, Cole dove and caught her before she hit the ground. But he was helpless. She writhed in his arms, all joints and hard angles, no breath sounds coming from her at all.

  The wraith shifted her focus to Cole, and as she did, Talia coughed and wretched and sucked in huge gulps of air.

  “Two for one?” the witch teased. “It’s not every day I get to test my powers like this. Thank you. Sincerely.” She tightened her right hand into a fist. “How about you first, Burkov?”

  It was as if the witch’s hand was inside his chest squeezing his heart into wet clay. Reflexively, he clutched Talia closer.

  At the witch, she shouted, “Die! Just die already.”

  The wraith cackled. “You’re not strong enough to threaten me,” she said. “It’s a miracle you managed Burkov’s nightmare spell at all.”

  “Stop,” Cole groaned, doubling over. His heart struggled against her magic, but he was losing. He couldn’t catch his breath. His hands and feet went numb.

  “Too bad the boss man thinks you can still be useful,” the wraith said, turning her attention away from Cole and onto Talia. “You, however.” She shrugged. “Didn’t I tell you to drown?”

  Talia spasmed, clawing at her throat as the witch choked her with invisible water.

  “Steph,” Cole hissed. He had to do something, even if it was a small spell. Anything. “Hugh!”

  Nothing. Perhaps the wraith had sent them away. Perhaps she was sucking the power from them like soda from a cup.

  If he couldn’t cast on her maybe he could slow her down. “Get behind the sofa,” he shouted at Talia, half tossing her in that direction. Meanwhile, he dove into the hallway and out of the wraith’s direct eye line. “If she can’t see you, she can’t cast on you.”

  More maniacal cackling. “Burkov, you ridiculous innocent. I don’t have to see you to cast. It helps, sure, but it’s not necessary. How in the world could I have done everything I’ve accomplished with such a huge handicap?” The pain in his chest tripled, and tears burned in both eyes.

  No.

  “Especially,” the wraith continued, “when I have the help of such an accommodating spirit as Hugh, here.”

  Through the tears, Cole stared at the fuzzy image of Talia’s spirit companion shoulder to shoulder with the White Wraith.

  “Help. Talia,” Colr gasped.

  “You are too late, sir,” Hugh said. “I do not take orders from you anymore.”

  Talia made a strangled cry for mercy.

  “My apologies, miss,” Hugh said, annoyingly self-controlled and emotionless. “But the master has promised me a place of distinction in his kingdom for years to come.” The spirit bowed his head.

  The disloyal, uncaring…

  “Talia?” Cole had to get to her. With effort, he crawled across the living room, feeling the witch’s gaze on him like a laser sight, and Talia met him halfway. He collapsed beside her, unable to move another inch. His breath just a wheeze in his throat, he considered that this was the end of his life. He was going to have a heart attack and die on the Carver’s gross carpet beside the woman he loved, just another casualty of the Dark Caster’s diabolical plan.

  The witch would probably destroy their bodies, and no one would know their fate. Because he’d been such a fool, his friends would assume he’d run off again. Vanished. Dani and Stephanie would search for him, but after being burned once before they would soon give up and write him off as a lost cause.

  Sylvester would be lost forever, and the Dark Caster would open the Chaos Gate.

  “No.” Cole rolled over and pushed himself to his feet.

  “Such valor,” the witch mocked. “Y’all made this too easy.” She cocked her head. “I actually expected you to be hard to kill, but this is fun.”

  “Stephanie,” he called.

  She didn’t appear, and a caster without spirit backup was just a person.

  “Stephanie,” he wailed.

  “Cole!” Her voice was faint and far away, but she was there. “Dani and David are on their way, sweetheart. Please hang on.”

  Her power tickled the back of his skull, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen. Either way, he was finally making his move.

  Talia gripped his calf, her tiny hands shaking.

  The witch focused on Cole, and with a wicked smile, she flicked her gaze upward. “Collapse.”

  In horror, he watched the entire roof and ceiling crumble and fall.

  “No,” he exclaimed, instinctively raising a hand to block the rubble and debris.

  But the roof didn’t drop. Somehow, he held it up with Stephanie’s help and the power stored in his blood cells.

  He blew out a surprised, euphoric breath.

  “You can’t hold it for long,” the witch said, straining to fight his power. “I’m stronger than you.”

  That may have been true, but she was sweating just as much as he was. Cole shifted to get a steadier position and the bits of plaster and wood shifted, too. The pressure was nearly unbearable. His back strained, his freshly cut tattoos overheated, sweat dribbled down the sides of his face and moistened his collar.

  And then the witch looked away from the roof. It didn’t lessen the weight pressing down on him, though, only freed her up to cast again.
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br />   As her head swiveled from side to side, random objects careened through the air. A picture frame bounced off his chest. A bowl hit him in the hip.

  “Cole,” Talia panted, rising to her knees. She coughed weakly. “We’re stronger when we cast together.”

  “Together,” he whispered.

  A potted plant hit him low on his spine, and he cried out as the ceiling dropped another few inches.

  “You should get out while you can,” he groaned.

  She didn’t listen. Instead, she laid a hand on his thigh. “Zachary’s feeding me power,” she hissed. “Use it.”

  He felt a surge of energy, a mixing of hers and his, giving him the strength to keep the roof off their heads a little longer, but then what? How long could he hold it up? How long until the wraith grew tired of toying with him and set him on fire? Or stopped his heart for good?

  The witch flung a lamp through the air. It smashed against his chest and ricocheted into his face. Glass shards sliced into his mouth and cheek and left ear.

  “Cole,” Talia screamed.

  Raw power, stronger than he’d ever felt coursed through his veins. His glyph tattoos burned like branded flesh, so hot they threatened to set his clothes on fire.

  He spit blood and then smiled at the wraith. “You’ve done it now,” he warned.

  She didn’t look the least bit scared. She should have been terrified.

  “Done what?” she mocked. “Made you angry?”

  “You let him out.” Cole focused all that rocket fuel outward. “Crush,” he said.

  The entire upper half of the house shot forward like a meteor strike and collapsed on top of the White Wraith. After the initial booming roar of sheetrock, lumber, and tile hitting the floor, dust swirled.

  The room grew gravely quiet.

  “Cole?” Talia sat with a thump. “Are you,” she coughed. “Are you okay?”

  As his skin returned to a normal temperature, he wiped blood from his face and said, “Medeor.” The cuts closed.

  The crackle in the air dissipated. The strange magical shield surrounding the house evaporated. It was just a house again, albeit a ruined one, but one like any other.

  “The wraith’s magic died with her,” he marveled.