Frozen: a ParaNormal mystery

by Amsden, Christine

  “You could choose to have neither of them, refuse to make the choice.”

  My heart squeezed painfully in response to the suggestion. I almost wanted to lash out at her for making it, but I knew Abigail and Henry weren’t real to her. She hadn’t held them. She hadn’t played princess monster truck rally with Abigail or taught Henry to shoot a bow. He’d become the junior state champion, just like me.

  To distract myself, I glanced back at the twins. Michael had finished eating and was now watching Maya’s tray intently. She held out her hand and summoned a grape from the tray; it disappeared from the tray and popped right into her closed fist.

  “Maya?” I said.

  Michael looked at me. Maya dropped the grape and let out a grunt of frustration. Michael rolled the grape back into her hand and she successfully got it into her mouth.

  “Something’s not right here.” I still couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I thought maybe, “I think the problem is with Maya.”

  “Huh?” Kaitlin looked at me, then at Maya.

  “Michael always seems to be helping her, not the other way around. He gets upset when they separate, but not as upset as she gets. I’m just not sure what the deal is.”

  What I didn’t voice was my fear that whatever it was, Maya had something to do with the hell hounds. But what? Her summoning gift couldn’t conjure a hell hound out of thin air; she could only call objects if she could see them. And where would she have seen a hell hound?

  My phone vibrated and I reached into my pocket for it, almost gratefully. I didn’t like my current train of thought.

  “What’s up, Sheriff?” I asked.

  “The Bakers just used their credit card,” he replied. “They’re at a hotel up in St. Joseph. How soon can you and Evan start driving that way?”

  “Very soon.” I stood, even though I’d only eaten half my lunch. Evan was going to be upset with me for eating so poorly after a magical healing, but he was already upset. “Text me the address. We’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter 14

  ST. JOSEPH, MISSOURI WAS OVER FOUR hours away from Eagle Rock. The prospect of spending so much time alone in a car with Evan just now was almost enough to make me ask to ride with the sheriff, but something told me that request would have put more distance between us.

  I hated fighting with Evan. It rarely happened, and when it did, it was usually over little things. This was different. It wasn’t anything like the turmoil that had preceded our marriage, when we’d both discovered the truth about what had happened to the magic that should have been my birthright but which, instead, made Evan more powerful than any one man had a right to be. Still, it was bad. And it struck me, as we began the long drive in silence, that I didn’t even know how to begin getting past it.

  Evan broke the silence. “Scott saw the fairy.”

  “There is a fairy? A real fairy?” I sat upright and stared at his profile; his eyes were glued to the road.

  “I didn’t see it. I was the distraction, remember?”

  “Yeah, but what did Scott say?”

  “He said he’d never seen anything like it. That it wasn’t human, whatever it was, and he wasn’t even sure if it was humanoid. It was moving so fast, he could only see a flicker of light before he had to back away.”

  “Did Cormack catch him?”

  “No, he got away, but he tripped a ward. Cormack was already suspicious by then; it’s not like I usually shop there.”

  I shook my head. No, Evan didn’t buy dark artifacts. He had never used his power to seek more power, which was one of the things I loved about him. He’d even offered to give some of his power up, which made me love him more. That hadn’t been an easy offer to make; the magic defined him, was part of him.

  “What did you say to him?” I asked.

  Evan hesitated. “I told him I needed more power than I had available to clean up your mess.”

  I froze. I felt as if he’d reached inside my chest and yanked my heart out. A moment ago, I’d remembered the reasons I loved him. Now, I could only think of the things that annoyed me or even angered me.

  Arrogant. Controlling. Determined to get his way in all things.

  “Everyone’s heard about it by now,” Evan continued. “Matthew called this morning to set up an emergency meeting about the problem. There are reports of dead fish up and down the entire lake, even into Arkansas, and other reports of mutations.”

  “No one’s talked to me about it,” I whispered.

  “No one wanted to upset you.”

  “Glad you don’t have that problem.”

  “Cassie.” Evan sighed. “This isn’t just about you.”

  “I know.” I stared out the window, deciding that I needed not to be able to see him right now.

  “Let me teach you,” he said softly. “You’re still channeling a lot of magic.”

  “Ana’s a prodigy, all right.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  I shook my head and continued to stare out the window, not speaking.

  “Cassie, you know just enough about magic to be dangerous, especially if you ever got into another situation that threatened you or someone you love. We both know you’d use it again.”

  I tensed. I didn’t want to admit he was probably right.

  “If you were someone else,” Evan continued, “if you were Madison or Kaitlin, I wouldn’t worry so much because they never got much past grounding. You’re different. You spent most of your life learning magic over your siblings’ shoulders, hearing the theory of how to work powerful forces without the ability to practice. Now, you’ve got magic running through your veins and half-remembered theories through your head.”

  “You could bind it,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. My gaze was still fixed out the window, but I was having trouble seeing through a haze of tears. And didn’t that just make me a hypocrite? I didn’t want to use the magic, but I didn’t want to give it up either. I guess I’d wanted it for too long.

  “You know I can’t do that,” Evan said, his voice harder. “It’s not your power. I’d have to bind Ana’s.”

  I shrugged. “The twins’ power is being bound. It happens. Sometimes young kids can’t handle their magic and it gets tucked away until they’re older.”

  “Ana’s not having trouble handling her magic. You are.”

  I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. Damn, I really was becoming my mother. In one stupid, selfish request, I’d managed to prove my worst fears. Excuses came to me – rationalizations. Binding Ana’s magic, losing my access to it, might even help me dream. Abigail Hastings, during our brief mentoring relationship, had told me that there was no such thing as a seer-sorcerer. I’d never asked her what happened when seers had magical babies, but sometimes I wondered if that was my problem, rather than lack of confidence or other psychological problems. There were too many things I’d never gotten the chance to ask.

  “Let me teach you,” Evan said again. “This isn’t going away anytime soon.”

  “Unless I decided not to have more children.” I regretted saying the words the instant they were out. I didn’t mean them; I knew they’d hurt him. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to backpedal. “You know I want more kids.”

  Evan didn’t answer for a long time and I resisted the urge to turn and look at him, to try to read the expression on his face. I didn’t want to see the anger.

  The worst thing about this fight was that Evan was mostly right and I was mostly wrong. That made it much, much harder to move past.

  “I know what the real problem is,” Evan said.

  “What’s that?”

  “The magic you’re channeling now – it ends. Whether we have one more or ten, it ends. Now or in twenty years.”

  “Yeah.” And more than that, I didn’t want to make the choice my mom had made to prolong it to twenty years, at least not for the same reasons.

  “It doesn’t have to end.”

  “Huh?” I wiped my eyes on the back
of my sleeve in case I decided to face him, but I didn’t turn around.

  “I saw the book in your car,” Evan said, his voice barely audible.

  “What book?”

  “Magical Transference. I saw it there this morning, when I went to clean the blood. It was in the backseat.”

  I groaned. It wasn’t his copy; it was Mom’s. I’d never brought it inside.

  “If you … if you still want …” He drew in a deep breath and I finally turned my head. His expression was odd. Pained. Twisted. Raw. I’d rarely seen anything like it.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  He glanced my way, then lifted one hand from the steering wheel to wipe a stray tear from my cheek. The moment shimmered between us, then he dropped his hand and left me feeling hollow again.

  “Mom had it,” I explained. “When I went to see her yesterday, she was reading it in the library. I don’t know what she was thinking; she was drunk and didn’t say much about it, but I took it away.”

  “Oh.” He let out a long sigh and visibly relaxed, the tension leaving his face like a tsunami retreating back into the ocean.

  “The sheriff asked if some kind of psychic vampire might be hurting her,” I blurted.

  “I’ve never heard of one.”

  “Me neither. But I’ve never heard of hell hounds. Or fairies. Things are changing, and I’m starting to think I know a lot less than I thought I did.”

  “You’re changing the subject,” Evan said, and I sensed the ocean crashing back into shore again.

  “What was the subject?”

  “Magic. You still want it. I keep wondering if I let the whole thing drop too easily two years ago, when I offered and you refused. I guess I was too relieved to question it.”

  I shook my head. I really didn’t want to have this conversation again, especially not now, when I was feeling so raw.

  “I mean, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Evan asked. “You don’t want to learn to use magic because it’s temporary. When Ana finishes nursing … there might be another child, and another, but it does end.”

  “Mom kept having kids for the wrong reason,” I said, voicing my real fear. “She doesn’t even want Michael and Maya. She doesn’t take care of them. They have to take care of each other, and they’re two!”

  “We can take care of them, if we have to.”

  I hadn’t quite decided if it was that bad yet, but I was close. I needed to sit down with Juliana, then maybe some of the others in turn. Find out what things were really like at the castle.

  “And I don’t care what you think,” Evan continued, “you’re not your mother.”

  “My mother isn’t my mother lately.” I shook my head. “She fell apart when Dad died, and vampires had nothing to do with it.” Left unsaid was my fear that the same thing could happen to me, if I lost Evan. Loss like that changed a person.

  “All right, let’s talk about something else.” Evan paused for a moment, as if searching for a topic, then switched on the radio instead.

  We passed the rest of the trip in relative silence, listening to music and making only the most superficial of comments. I thought about Abigail, the daughter of my heart and of my dreams, and the fact that tonight was the night – if I chose her. If I rejected Henry. If we could put this fight behind us. It was, in the end, a very long trip.

  * * *

  It was dark by the time we reached the shabby motel in St. Joseph. The sheriff pulled into the parking lot ahead of us, then double parked his SUV behind a couple of sedans. Evan followed suit, stopping just behind the sheriff.

  We all got out and met between the two cars. The sheriff eyed the row of motel rooms, his gaze shifting to the small office at one end.

  “I’m going to find out which room they’re in,” he said.

  “Do we really want to go in at night?” I asked, glancing around nervously and half expecting to see another hell hound.

  “I don’t want to lose them,” the sheriff said. “I can’t guarantee they’re here; I only know they used their credit card here around noon and we got a report they used it at a nearby restaurant too.”

  I glanced at Evan, wondering how he felt about the failure of magic to outdo good old-fashioned police work on this. His face was expressionless, much as it had been since we started listening to the radio several hours before.

  “Any magic?” I asked.

  He shook his head, slowly. “Nothing yet. That could change.”

  “Wait here.” Sheriff Adams strode to the office, leaving us to wait in more uncomfortable silence.

  “We need to talk about last night,” Evan said after a minute or so.

  “Why?”

  He made a sound halfway between a snort and a sigh. “Come on, Cassie. What were you even doing there? And what was the hell hound doing there? You’ve got a theory; I can tell.”

  “It left when I called Christina’s name.”

  “Do you think it was protecting her?”

  The sheriff chose that moment to step out of the office, sparing me the need to answer. He strode toward us purposefully, his face set and hard. He held up both hands, with two fingers raised on the right and three on the left. Twenty-three.

  I found the number near the end of the row and began walking that way, Evan right by my side. The sheriff beat us to it by seconds, then pounded on the door.

  “Open up. Sheriff’s Department!”

  There was noise from within, a muffled sort of thumping, then silence.

  The sheriff pounded on the door again. “Mr. and Mrs. Baker, I know you’re in there. We just need to talk.”

  The door opened a crack and brown eyes peered out, just above the chain, which remained latched.

  “Mr. Baker?” Sheriff Adams asked.

  “We haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “Go away.”

  “Then why did you run?” the sheriff asked.

  “We didn’t run. We’re on vacation.”

  The sheriff arched his eyebrows. “You decided to head north in December to scenic St. Joseph, Missouri?”

  “We have family here.”

  “I doubt it. Please let us in, or I’ll have to arrest you for obstruction of justice.” The sheriff’s face was completely emotionless; I couldn’t tell if he was bluffing.

  Neither, apparently, could Mr. Baker because he closed the door just long enough for him to slide the chain loose and then open the door fully.

  Mr. Baker was only a few years older than me, with dark brown hair and skin that maintained a golden tan even in December – probably because he spent so much time on the lake. He had a strong face that would have been handsome had his eyes not been narrowed in suspicion. He caught sight of me, then his gaze slid past me to Evan, standing just behind me. His face paled.

  “What’s he doing here? I don’t have to talk to him. Just the sheriff. You two wait outside.”

  “They’re consultants,” the sheriff said, “and their viewpoint is invaluable.”

  “I know what he is.” Mr. Baker didn’t point at Evan; he didn’t even look at him, but we all knew who he meant. “I won’t talk to him.”

  “What about Cassie?” Sheriff Adams asked.

  I tried hard to look nonthreatening. I’m not sure if I succeeded.

  Mr. Baker drew in a deep, rattling breath, looked over his shoulder at something I couldn’t see, then turned back, nodding. “Yeah. All right. She can come.”

  “If it starts to get cold in there,” Evan whispered, “or you get nervous at all, just activate the crystal.”

  I nodded, feeling the reassuring weight of the purplish gemstone in my pocket. Then I followed Sheriff Adams through the doorway and into the dingy motel room.

  I’d never spent a lot of time in rented rooms – traveling was one thing I hadn’t had much of a chance to do. The few times I had gone out of town I’d spent the night in a nice hotel room. Nothing like this, which was well outside of my experience. I’d seen something like it in movies, bu
t movies can’t capture the dampness or the scent of mold.

  Two double beds took up most of the space in the room, one with the sheets tossed, the other still made up in a threadbare orange comforter. A rickety table and single chair were crammed in near the window, where a heating unit rattled and hummed like it was on its last legs. A tiny flat-panel TV rested atop a dresser across from the beds, currently alive with the tones of SpongeBob SquarePants.

  A small child – Haley, I presumed, sat amid the strewn covers on the bed furthest from the door, half hiding behind the sheets and her mom. I mostly had an impression of dark hair and a brown stuffed animal.

  Mrs. Baker stared at me when I came in and I realized with a jolt that I knew her – not as Mrs. Baker but as Sydney Spencer, a member of my high school graduating class. We hadn’t hung out in the same circles – I was a cheerleader and she was in basketball, I think – but we’d had some classes together and she’d seemed friendly enough.

  “Sydney,” I said.

  “Cassie,” she replied.

  “Look, we’re really sorry about Nadine and Jared.” Mr. Baker went to stand next to his wife, as if he could shield her and his daughter from our view. “Really, really sorry. But we didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Is there any magic in your family?” I asked, bluntly.

  “No!” Sydney cried before her husband could speak for her. He glanced at her, but she didn’t seem to see. “My family’s not even from Eagle Rock. My parents moved to the area during the tourism boom. And Shawn moved here five years ago.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Shawn told his wife. “This is a fishing expedition. They don’t have anything.”

  “We have two dead people and nearly two others,” Sheriff Adams said.

  “What do you mean, nearly two others?” Shawn asked.

  “Someone tried to freeze us out on our way to talk to you. We barely escaped, then found you had vanished. Why?”