Frozen: a ParaNormal mystery

by Amsden, Christine

  Magical talent, on the other hand, was tied to the blood and it drew on energy from nature, beginning with the self. Pockets of energy, such as the node beneath Table Rock Lake, magnified magical ability, which was why so many sorcerers lived near the lake. But using magic, with or without a node, could sap a person’s strength and if taken too far, could burn them out.

  It had happened to Matthew Blair recently. He still hoped to regain some small use of his magic, but so far if he had, he wasn’t saying.

  Magical energy could be shaped into almost anything, though, given the right circumstances and will. It could technically be shaped into intense cold. But the sheer power it would take to create this sort of lingering effect … it was hard to fathom.

  And I stood by what I’d said. Nobody in town, so far as I knew, specialized in cold.

  “What about your own family?” Sheriff Adams asked.

  “What about them?”

  “Your brother’s a fire starter. Your dad was. Isn’t cold basically heat in reverse?”

  I hesitated. I supposed you could look at it that way, but I had never known my brother or my father, before he died, to use cold magic. Only heat.

  “Can we walk away from the house a bit to talk?” I asked. My teeth were chattering; when I got home, I was going to light a fire and roast my hands over it.

  The sheriff, Frank, Evan, and I all walked along the dirt path back toward the road. The cold eased up noticeably a few yards past the cars, which wasn’t quite as far out as Frank had indicated earlier.

  “It’s warming up.” Frank turned to look around. “I wonder where Jim is; he hasn’t checked in recently.”

  I glanced to the east where Frank was looking, but didn’t see anyone. I was about to suggest the walkie when Frank pulled his out, stepped a few yards away, and tried to raise Jim.

  I turned to the sheriff. “Okay, spill. What do you know? Who called this in?”

  The sheriff cleared his throat. “We got a 911 call from some missionary group that was traveling door to door. Frank and Jim took the call, then called me.

  “They hadn’t gone in by the time I arrived. It was too cold and it’s a nice day; they only had light jackets. When we got here, the place was sub-zero. My car registered an external temperature of fifty below. Inside that house … I can’t even imagine. It was an hour, at least, before we went inside. I let Frank go to pick up some winter gear. By the time he got back, it was closer to twenty below out here, and we risked a quick look inside the house. Saw what you saw, but couldn’t stay. Not for longer than thirty seconds. My fingers were already blue. That’s when I went to consult you.”

  “So the temperature is going up by, what, twenty to thirty degrees an hour?” I asked.

  “Sounds about right. I figure in an hour, those two will thaw out.”

  I shook my head, trying to think. But I had a sudden, sharp idea what it felt like to be the sheriff. I was totally in over my head here. He’d come to me for answers, but I had none to give. I knew of no practitioner who could cause cold like that.

  “Your family–” Sheriff Adams persisted.

  “No, they don’t do this kind of magic.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure they could; Nicolas’s gift is instinctive and always, always hot.”

  “All it takes is one person to see it differently,” the sheriff said.

  I shrugged. I thought he was on the wrong track, but maybe it was better to humor the possibility for now.

  “You have an ID on one of the vics?” the sheriff asked.

  “Nadine … can’t remember her last name off the top of my head. Who owns the house?”

  “Jared Wilks, who we’re assuming is the male vic but we won’t know for sure until we can get in there for longer than a minute.”

  The name didn’t ring a bell, but I didn’t know the name of every last person in town, especially the more mundane residents. As far as I knew, Nadine had no connection to magic. Then again, lots of seemingly normal people in the area could trace their family trees to a sorcerer if they looked far enough back. You just never knew.

  “I still can’t reach Jim.” Frank returned to our huddle, though his eyes remained on the horizon, apparently looking for Jim. The sun had nearly set and it would be dark in the trees. “Should I go looking, do you think?”

  As if the question had conjured his partner, the man stumbled out of the trees ahead. Literally, stumbled. Something was definitely wrong.

  Both Frank and Sheriff Adams rushed toward Jim. I started to go after them, but a familiar tug of magic held me back. I struggled against the gentle but unbreakable force for a moment before glaring over my shoulder at Evan, who stood firm and unapologetic for his heavy-handed tactics.

  “Let me go! Damn it, Evan, we talked about this.”

  Evan didn’t answer. He was too busy rushing past me, yelling for Frank and the sheriff to stop.

  That’s when I saw it – the thing that had scared Evan. It was … a dog, maybe? But massive. As black as night. And with red, glowing eyes. If it weren’t for the eyes, I might have mistaken it for a werewolf. Well, that, and the fact that the moon hadn’t risen. Wolves didn’t turn when the sun went down, only when the moon rose. It wasn’t even the full moon; I would never have left Ana with Scott if it were.

  The monstrous thing lunged for Jim, a thirty-something man in very good shape who couldn’t seem to outrun it. It tore at the backs of his legs, drawing blood and sending Jim sprawling to the ground on hands and knees.

  I couldn’t move, and not because Evan’s power still held me. That thing was about two seconds from eating Jim, a man I happened to like and who I knew had a wife and two kids at home.

  A strangled yell emerged from Jim’s throat. Guns blazed – I hadn’t even noticed Frank and Sheriff Adams drawing their weapons. The beast growled, momentarily losing interest in Jim as it fixed those demon eyes on the two men trying to fill it with lead.

  Then, suddenly, it was in the air, flying backwards through the trees and out of sight.

  The guns went quiet but the sheriff and his deputy continued to run toward their fallen comrade. Evan stood stock still, staring into the woods, arms raised and waiting. Listening.

  Suddenly, the sound of a canine howling filled the air.

  “Move!” Evan shouted. “It’s coming back!”

  I itched to go to them, but I knew that if I did, it would only focus Evan’s attention on me instead of where it needed to be – on helping Jim. So instead, I dashed for the car – Evan’s car – threw myself inside and started the engine.

  Meanwhile, Evan was lifting Jim with his power, trying to be both fast and careful, which wasn’t easy for him. I could see the strain on his face as Jim’s body hovered in midair for a moment, then flew far too quickly in my general direction. He was going to crash into the car!

  I had a moment in which to think to jump out and open the back door before Jim was hurled rather unceremoniously in through the gap, head and arms smacking the door with such force that it shook the car. Evan ran after him; Frank and the sheriff ran for their own vehicles.

  The black dog thing emerged from the trees, its low growl piercing my skull like a thousand sharp knives. It sat there for a moment while fear, icier than the bitter cold, threatened to overwhelm me.

  Move! I told myself.

  “Get in the car!” Evan shouted.

  He didn’t need to tell me once. I was already sliding behind the steering wheel, leaving the back door open for Evan to duck inside. Behind me, I heard Jim screaming in pain, his cries competing with those of the black dog, but there was nothing I could do for him except get him the hell out of there.

  The second Evan was in the car, my foot hit the gas and we were tearing down the dirt drive. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I saw both Sheriff Adams and Frank get to their cars, the latter a mere body length ahead of the dog-thing. It slammed into his car as the driver’s door shut, with enough force to rock the vehicle.

  “Come on, Frank
,” I whispered, trying to keep one eye on the road ahead of me, one on the rearview mirror to check on his progress. I heard more than saw his engine roar to life, then dust flew as he peeled out.

  By that time, I was already hanging a right onto Lakeshore Drive – or whatever it was called this far east – accelerating to seventy miles per hour before my heart stilled enough for me to back off the accelerator.

  Jim had stopped screaming. He wasn’t making any sounds at all. That couldn’t be a good thing.

  “Hospital?” I tried to look at Jim in the rearview mirror to check his condition, but the angle was wrong. Actually, all the mirrors were positioned for Evan’s much taller height.

  “He won’t make it if we take him there. Home.”

  I shuddered, but said nothing. Evan had already begun muttering incantations designed to keep Jim’s body in stasis until he could get to the seat of his power, his familiar spell circle tied directly to the node, his potions, and his books.

  Evan didn’t go around doling out magic to save people. For one thing, he couldn’t save everyone. For another, sorcerers tend to be very secretive. Almost to a fault. And to top all that off, if Evan saved Jim’s life, then Jim would owe Evan a huge debt.

  I’d once owed Evan a debt like that. I had been literally unable to deny him anything he asked of me directly. He had to be careful when he spoke to me, because if he phrased something as an order, I had to obey it. It had also been difficult to deny him anything I knew he wanted, whether or not he asked for it.

  In other words, if Jim lived, it would be at a high price. Of course, he had kids. He had to pay it, if he could. He had no choice.

  Two SUVs followed me all the way back home, but thankfully I saw no sign of a black monster from hell. My head was still pounding, I realized after I’d pulled into our driveway and parked the car. I drew in several deep, shaking breaths, smelling the metallic tang of blood in the air as I did so.

  I looked behind me. Jim’s face was deathly pale, and there was blood everywhere. The dog had apparently torn an artery in the back of his leg. Evan had stopped the bleeding with his stasis spell, but it was no wonder he’d said Jim would die if he went to a hospital. There wouldn’t have been time.

  “I’ll take care of Jim,” Evan said. “Keep those two out of my way.”

  I nodded and started to unbuckle my seat belt before realizing I hadn’t fastened it. Wow, I really must have been terrified.

  Getting out of the car, I met Frank and the sheriff. The former looked frightened, the latter furious. I held my hand up to both, trying to indicate to them that they needed to stop.

  Frank stopped. Sheriff Adams came right at me, putting himself in my face.

  “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” the sheriff demanded. “I know how debt works. Is Evan collecting them now?”

  I placed a hand on his chest, attempting to still him and push him back. “Jim’s almost dead. Evan’s the only chance he’s got.”

  “I want to see for myself.”

  It hurt that the sheriff didn’t trust me, but I stood my ground. “When Evan gets him safely in the house, you can take a look at how much blood is in the backseat.”

  The sheriff wasn’t looking at me anymore. His gaze had gone over my shoulder. I glanced back to see Evan backing out, the still form of Jim hovering just ahead of him. Jim looked dead. And there didn’t seem to be an inch of his tan deputy’s uniform that wasn’t covered in blood.

  “Oh my God.” The sheriff’s face went suddenly ashen.

  “Let Evan work.” I repeated.

  The sheriff had already backed down. Taking two full steps away from me, he went to confer with Frank, the two men whispering so I couldn’t overhear them.

  Meanwhile, Evan had gotten Jim out of the car and was levitating him slowly up the front steps. Not being in mortal danger this time, he was able to take more care. The front door opened as Evan and Jim approached, then the two disappeared inside, the door closing behind them.

  “Will he live?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t know. But if anyone can heal him, Evan can.”

  “What the hell was that thing?” Sheriff Adams asked.

  “That,” I said, “is a very good question.”

  Chapter 4

  JIM HAD BEEN MY PARTNER ONCE, years ago, during my brief and infamous time working directly for the sheriff’s department. He lasted longer than any of my other partners and for once, I had run out on him rather than the other way around. He wasn’t the sort of man to scare easily and tended to be pretty laid back, which wasn’t the same as saying he didn’t care about things. He took his duty to protect and serve seriously.

  I invited Sheriff Adams and Frank inside to wait for news. The sheriff immediately slipped into the dining room for privacy as he performed the unhappy task of calling Jim’s wife. I didn’t envy him that call.

  Frank, meanwhile, settled into the den, where Madison and her mate, Scott, were watching TV. Scott grabbed the remote as soon as he spotted us, turned the TV off, and looked up expectantly. “What’s with the heavy coats?”

  I’d forgotten I was still wearing one. Silently, I slid the coat off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor, along with my gloves and hat.

  “Is Ana okay?” I asked, needing an update on my child before anything else. There was no reason to suspect a problem, but there was something about terror and the adrenaline crash afterward that made me want to check in on my loved ones.

  “She’s still upstairs.” Madison cast a quick glance at the baby monitor at her elbow before looking back at me. “She’s been talking to herself for about twenty minutes, and you said to let her if she’s happy. We were just thinking about interrupting her for dinner.”

  “I’ll get her.” I turned and dashed up the stairs without another word, heading for the room next to the master bedroom. There were eight bedrooms in our three-story house, which Evan had designed himself, and he said he could add more if necessary. He claimed to share my desire to fill it with children, but I wondered if he knew what he was in for. Growing up as an only child, he couldn’t imagine the chaos. In some ways, I knew, he was trying to make up for the loneliness of his own upbringing, but that upbringing had shaped him as much as mine had shaped me.

  Ana’s eyes were open when I looked in on her, bright and full of intelligence. She was, as Madison had said, happily chatting in baby babble. I’d listened to her do just that for a whole hour once, although she usually got fussy after fifteen minutes. Today, she had her feet in her fists and when I walked in, she giggled.

  “Hello, happy girl.” I picked her up and spun in a circle, eliciting a squeal of delight. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such a happy baby, but I’m a lucky mommy.”

  “Ma!” Ana grabbed my breast, making me wonder, yet again, if she thought mommy meant me or my boobs. “Ma.”

  I could take a hint. Retreating to the rocking chair by the large picture window, which was currently blocked by thick purple drapes, I gave Ana what she and I both needed – a connection.

  I’ve often heard women say that nursing is a bonding experience, and it is. For me, especially, the connection between us was a living thing. I’d felt magic stir in my blood for the first time when I was pregnant, and I continued to feel that magic connect us every time she nursed. It didn’t work if I pumped and someone else fed her from a bottle, it only worked when we were skin to skin. Sometimes, I felt a ghost of that connection when we weren’t nursing, just touching and cuddling.

  It was fading. The magic had filled my blood during pregnancy, giving me the power, I was sure, to rival any sorcerer in town. Except perhaps Evan, who, after all, had about twice as much magic as he should. He had mine, siphoned away before we were born as a result of a nasty feud and a nastier spell.

  He’d offered to give it back, but I’d turned him down. A lot of people don’t understand why I made that choice, but I stand by it. I love him.

  Which wasn’t the same as saying it
was easy to let go. It had actually been easier when I’d first turned him down. He’d given me a gift that day, one more precious than the magic he offered. He’d given me his love in an irrefutable way. I could only do the same. But at that time, I had never felt the magic. I didn’t really know what I was missing.

  Now, I did feel the magic. It stirred in my blood; a warmth, a tingle, a reassuring presence. A drug I was slowly weaning off, one that would become addictive if I ever truly used it.

  The magic called to me. Every day, though I never said it out loud, I heard it whisper in my mind. I’m here. Embrace me. Feel the power. Before it’s too late.

  I shook my head, denying the voice. Mom had caved. Mom had embraced the power and it had driven her crazy in the end. She’d had babies until she couldn’t anymore, until her husband had died. I sometimes wondered if she’d be pregnant again had he lived. She was only twenty years older than me, after all, and could theoretically keep going. Feeding the craving for magic she could get only one way.

  Ana pushed away from me and I switched her to the other breast, trying to shift my thoughts away from the dark path they’d traveled. The room was dark; I hadn’t turned on the light and the only source of illumination was a nightlight by her crib. I wished I had thought to open the drapes before sitting down, at least. Then I could look out into the twilit sky.

  You can do that from here, the magic whispered. You know the spell. You know the theory. You watched your dad teach it to Nicolas and Juliana and Isaac. It just takes a whisper of the power you’re wasting, siphoning off during meditation to serve no purpose at all. Just a whisper. A flicker. Look at the curtain. Look at it, and make it move.

  The corner of the heavy drape twitched before I tore my eyes away, shifting my body as I did. This apparently annoyed Ana, who slapped her free hand onto my other nipple and squeezed.