by Anna Abner
“Can he do that?” she asked. “Can he control demons?”
“No. No one can.”
“Will Paul come after us?” Jessa tugged nervously at her seatbelt.
Yes. “Stay close.” He glanced at Jessa’s sister in the backseat. “Jolie? Keep watch.”
“Of course.” She nodded stiffly. “I’ll keep funneling power into you until we get to Jessa’s apartment.”
Holden’s healing spell may have repaired the knife’s damage, but it clearly hadn’t done the job of a blood transfusion because Derek’s mind failed to compute the way it normally did. Up ahead, he saw two cars. And then one. And then three. He shook his head to clear it, but it didn’t help.
“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the emergency room?” Jessa placed a warm hand on his forearm.
“No.” No hospitals. Too vulnerable. In fact… “The mayor wants to see me?” he asked.
“Yes.” She withdrew her hand, and it was for the best. She should put all ideas of them comforting each other out of her mind. “Paul wanted me to convince you to come home.” She paused as if putting pieces together. “Oh, God. He pushed the idea hard. I just thought he wanted to buy your house, but he made such a big deal about doing business in person.” She turned to face him in the cramped interior. “Does he even want to buy it?”
“Probably not,” he said.
“What will he do to you?”
“I don’t know.” His vision blurred, and in the time it took to blink the haze away, an SUV rose up in the rear view mirror. Derek applied extra pressure on the gas pedal, but the larger vehicle slammed into his rear bumper before he could outrun it.
“What is going on?” Jessa screeched.
Derek strong-armed the wheel to keep them from careening off the road.
The pickup on their left, innocuous up to that point, turned directly into Derek’s path. There wasn’t enough time to stop and avoid a collision.
The little car plowed into the truck and spun a full three hundred sixty degrees before shuddering to a stop.
“Jessa?” Derek called blindly as he pried his face off the deflating air bag.
His door wrenched open.
“Silentium.”
The spell roared through him like a whirlwind. Bones rattling, he opened his mouth to protest, but no sound emerged from his throat. His everyday speech problems were like a hiccup compared to the silencing spell’s effects.
His mouth working like a fish, Derek stared up into Harrison Worley’s face.
“I know you,” Derek tried to say. They had been initiates in Paul’s dark cabal together.
“Poor thing,” came a sneering female voice.
Over Harrison’s shoulder stood an unfamiliar woman with whipping red hair. A witch, if he had to guess.
“Welcome home, brother.” Harrison yanked Derek out of the car and slammed him against the frame.
Voice or no, Derek wasn’t going to die without a fight. He threw an elbow, clipping Harrison on the chin.
“Caligo.”
Derek’s knees turned to mush as the world tipped topsy-turvy. He couldn’t find the horizon, couldn’t orient himself. It was as if he were tossed underwater by a wave and simultaneously caught in a riptide.
“Derek!”
Jessa’s terrified cry stilled his struggling. He had put her in danger, exactly as he had feared.
“Sorry, Miss McAvoy,” the witch said. “But you’re going to have to sit still. It’s not your time, yet.”
Derek couldn’t hear Jessa. If they hurt her…
Harrison bundled him into the back of the SUV, several car doors slammed closed, and the vehicle jerked into motion. He was strapped into an invisible roller coaster. Up, down, and finally, a wicked death spiral.
Derek clenched his eyes closed and tried to correct his equilibrium. Slowly, inch-by-inch, he wrenched back control, enough that by the time Harrison dragged him out of the SUV, he could walk on his own.
He blinked rapidly to make sense of the blurry images his brain was receiving.
The necromancer had brought him home.
Derek craned his neck to catch sight of Jessa, but he didn’t see her. He was afraid to hope they’d left her behind, unharmed.
“Cast something!” Jolie screamed, appearing on his left. “Stop them!” She filled him with churning spirit power, but without his voice, he was helpless.
“You’re worthless.” She disappeared, and so did all that tingly power.
I am. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out what everyone else already knew.
Harrison marched him toward the house. As they crossed the lawn, Paul appeared in the doorframe, the picture of business casual.
“Did you enjoy the welcome home gift I left for you?” Paul greeted. “I know how fond you were of little Miss McAvoy.”
The thought of Jessa in peril spurred him into action, and he rammed a shoulder into Harrison’s abdomen. The other man’s grip loosened a fraction, but it was all Derek needed. He sprinted toward the tree line.
“Lapsus.”
Derek face-planted hard. Recent rain had soaked the ground, and he flailed in the sticky mud.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Harrison snarled. “You can’t escape.” He dragged Derek toward the house by the throat.
He kicked and squirmed as breath became a limited commodity. But he couldn’t free himself. He was outnumbered and out of luck. Harrison dragged him through the front door, down the hall, and to the threshold of his former magical lair.
Even after four months, it still smelled like black magic—burnt plastic and rot.
Harrison dropped him face down on the concrete. Derek gasped for breath, and as he did, he sensed his voice returning. Not enough to cast, but the silencing spell was fading.
“Holden has Jessa,” Jolie exclaimed, reappearing. “He told me to stay with you. Why won’t you fight back?”
She filled him up. Lying atop cold concrete covered in spell marks of all sizes and varieties he could have cast a shield spell, but his voice failed him.
“I started this spell years ago.” Paul stepped over Derek like he was a pile of rubbish and situated himself against the far wall. “When you continued my work I was hopeful. It’s too bad you couldn’t live up to all that potential.” He produced a pocketknife and opened the blade. “However,” he cut a notch into his left wrist, “your blood is part of this spell. In order to open the gate I need a little more.”
The last time Derek had been in the walk-in closet, his spirit Robert had been there with him. Robert had been a good and decent soul, and he hadn’t deserved what happened to him.
Derek stopped fighting and mashed his face into the gritty floor. He had made so many mistakes.
I’m sorry, he thought, hoping wherever Robert was he heard him. I was a fool.
Paul rubbed his hands together, smearing bright red blood across both palms, and then stood over a dangerously powerful glyph. One of the many that had fostered Derek’s poorly wielded black magic.
“Ligo.” Paul stamped his bloodied hands over the glyph.
Too late…too late…
Harrison forced Derek onto his knees, holding him steady. Paul grabbed Derek by the hair and with a swipe of the knife, opened his chest to the bone.
Hot blood flowed down his abdomen.
Paul forced him facedown over the glyph and ground an expensive brown loafer against the side of Derek’s throat.
“Do something!” Jolie screamed, filling him with oodles and oodles of unrestrained power. A tingling vibrated through Derek’s fingers and toes. “You’re supposed to help my sister, not die today!”
Jessa. He’d come all the way across the country to protect her, and he’d failed.
Like he always did.
“Get up!” Jolie screamed.
This is why he’d run so far away, why he’d hidden behind Bo in Alaska, because he’d been terrified of this exact moment.
“Jessa needs you,” Jolie goaded.
<
br /> Panic for Jessa skittered under his skin like a swarm of insects, granting him strength. He wasn’t going to die on the floor of his home. Not today. Not until Jessa was safe.
Derek concentrated Jolie’s power into a cube of light in the center of his chest.
“Tego,” he whispered. “Accendo.”
An impenetrable bubble swelled around him, and the room exploded with white light.
Derek scrambled up and ran. A long time ago, he’d carved a spell circle into a copse of pine trees edging his property in case he ever needed to escape. He ran in that direction.
He stumbled, dizzy and weak, uncertain if the pounding in his ears was chasing footsteps or the pulse in his head. He fell the final three steps, but slapped a hand within the circle’s wet, leafy border.
“Medeor,” he gasped, channeling Jolie’s power. It felt wilder than any spirit magic he’d ever experienced. It didn’t burn out of him, it burst like a bomb.
He lay stunned. “Medeor,” he said, over and over. “Medeor.”
“Don’t you dare pass out,” Jolie warned, hovering over him. “You’re not safe here.”
“Jessa?” he asked.
“Holden took her home. She seems all right.”
She’s not good, not great, just all right. Jolie’s assessment did not reassure him.
“Medeor.” His head cleared, and when he gingerly investigated the wound on his chest he found the bleeding had ceased and his cut flesh was mending fast.
But he couldn’t do this alone.
“Don’t leave me,” he said, using a tree trunk to climb to his feet.
“I won’t.”
He zigzagged through the pines, heading east toward the nearest road, following the sounds of cars because his eyesight wasn’t one hundred percent yet.
“No one’s chasing you,” Jolie said, popping in and out of his vision. “It’s like they don’t…”
Care about me. Yeah, he got the same feeling. Whatever they had needed, they’d taken, and now he was beneath their notice.
“There’s a road about a hundred yards ahead,” she added. “Keep going. You’re almost there.”
“Jessa,” he groaned.
Jolie vanished only to reappear a moment later. “Jessa’s okay, but she’s worried about you.” And she was gone again.
Derek glanced over his shoulder. Nothing but trees and earth. He couldn’t see or hear anyone, but that didn’t mean they weren’t following him. He picked up his pace and stepped onto black asphalt, crossed the white line, and was halfway across the lane when a Honda screeched to a halt beside him.
“What’s wrong with you?” the driver shouted out the car’s window. “I almost killed you. Are you nuts?”
Derek wobbled toward the vehicle.
“Jesus, man, what happened to you?” The driver climbed out of his car.
“Drive me home?” Derek asked in a husky whisper, the best he could manage.
“I’ll take you to the ER,” the driver countered. “Were you in some kind of accident?”
Derek shook his head. “I’m fine. Take me home.”
“Alright,” the man said, “get in. Is there someone there to take care of you?”
“Yes.” It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. Jessa was all he cared about.
The car jolted to a stop, and Derek startled awake.
“We’re here,” the man said.
Attempting to quiet the painful racing of his heart, Derek got out of the car at Jessa’s apartment building and started up the stairs, the driver following a step behind.
His old nemesis, the ghost who’d haunted him in Alaska for months, flickered into being at the top landing.
“You think you’re safe?” the spirit taunted. “You’ll never be safe. You’re a worthless lump of flesh, not even worth killing.”
Derek stepped through the ghost’s image to knock on Jessa’s front door.
He rocked on his heels when a uniformed police officer whipped open the door.
“Derek Walker?” The cop waved him inside while frowning at the blood coating his chest. “We’ve been talking about you.”
The driver held up both hands and backed down a step. “I found him in the middle of the road,” he said. “I don’t know anything about anything. I just gave him a ride.”
Jessa reached around the officer and pulled Derek onto her sofa. “Thank you for bringing him here,” she said, her hands soft and comforting on his bare arm. Too soft. He wiggled out of her grasp.
“I’ll take it from here,” she added.
“Alright then.” Without waiting for permission to leave, the driver pounded his way down the stairs and was gone.
“Are you okay?” Derek demanded, trying to see every inch of her at once. No bruises. No scratches. They hadn’t hurt her. He sagged a little against the couch.
“I’m fine,” Jessa assured. “What about you?”
He didn’t matter. He was a screw-up. He’d let himself be captured and bled like a suckling calf, and because of his mistakes the cabal was stronger than ever. He didn’t deserve her concern.
Derek’s gaze flicked from the pair of cops to a pacing Esmeralda to what must be Holden’s arm visible through the archway into the kitchen.
“I didn’t cut his chest!” Jessa’s dark-haired and restless roommate exclaimed. “I swear to God. That wasn’t me.”
“Like I was telling you,” Jessa said, her fingers exploring his wounds no matter how many times he swatted her away. “There’s no need to go to any trouble over us. I’m sorry to cause such a fuss,” she continued. “My boyfriend got a little too passionate,” she chuckled, “if you know what I mean, and carried me out of here.”
“You were screaming,” Esmeralda said. She stared at Jessa as if she didn’t know Jessa at all. “He kidnapped you!”
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” She moved in for a hug, but Esmeralda rebuffed her. Jessa gripped herself around the waist instead. “It’s, um, a game we play sometimes.”
“I can attest to that.” Holden stepped out of the kitchen. “They have a playful relationship.”
Derek sat forward, his fists clenching as if out of his control. The sound of Holden’s voice was like a cattle prod to the ribs.
“You don’t even have a boyfriend!” Esmeralda shouted at Jessa.
“It’s not a very amusing game,” the nearest officer said. He glared at Derek. “I have a report you were stabbed.”
“Just a scratch,” Derek said. He showed the man his bloody, but uncut chest. “No harm done.”
“This is your blood?” the officer asked, pointing at the stains on Derek’s jeans.
“It bled a lot,” he affirmed.
“You need to get checked out by a doctor,” the cop said.
“No.” Derek set his jaw. “I’m fine.”
“If he gets worse,” Holden added, “I’ll take him to the hospital myself.”
“I don’t appreciate this,” the officer continued in a tone that rattled even Derek. “Making a false 911 report,” he said, staring at Esmeralda. “Is a serious offense.” He scowled at Jessa. “You’re lucky I don’t write all three of you up. You got it?”
“Sorry again,” Jessa said.
Esmeralda ducked her head.
“Put this nonsense to rest,” he said, heading for the door. “Ya’ll hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” Esmeralda mumbled.
“Yes, of course.” Holden held the door as both officers exited. “Thank you for coming. Sorry to have wasted your time.”
Esmeralda threw up her hands. “I can’t believe you did that to me, Jessa. I thought you were being tortured to death.” She pointed at Derek. “I thought I killed him. I thought I was a murderer!” She made a strangled cry and stormed off.
“Esmeralda.” Jessa chased her.
“Leave me alone!”
Derek was not as concerned about Esmeralda’s bruised feelings as he was for Holden’s presence. Derek stared at the other man, unblinking.
“They strengthened their spell with my blood.”
“You sure you were unwilling?” Holden grumbled.
That was it. The absolute last straw. The rage inside Derek burst its cap, and he charged. His instinct was to hit, but he was too weak to throw a decent punch, so he settled on shoving Holden hard in the chest.
Holden’s eyes widened in momentary surprise before they narrowed. “You son of a bitch.” He grabbed Derek by the shoulders and flattened him against the living room wall.
“I don’t know what I’m willing to do,” Derek shouted, straining at Holden’s grip. “Because you ruined me! You stole my life!”
Holden’s fists loosened their hold.
“Enough!” Jessa’s raised voice vibrated through the sudden silence. “Holden, thank you for coming after me, but you need to go. Derek, calm the hell down. You look like death.”
Holden released Derek as if he was something foul. “I need to make sure Becca’s safe.” He left without further comment.
Jessa was staring at Derek, and he couldn’t handle her scrutiny. He should be doing more. He wasn’t doing enough.
Ducking her critical stare, he rifled through kitchen drawers until he found a Sharpie. Standing on an ottoman, he drew a pair of horns in the corner next to the front door. Then he went into the bathroom and drew the scales of justice above the shower. The bathroom was connected to Jessa’s room and he bypassed the hallway to draw a chalice in the corner beside Jessa’s dresser. Finally, he made his way into the kitchen and drew the fourth and final glyph in the kitchen behind a cupboard door.
“Holden already cast protection spells here,” Jessa said.
“I don’t trust him. I have to do it myself,” Derek said. “Jolie?” He situated himself on his knees in the living room.
“What’s this spell?” she asked, appearing beside him.
“The first is a barrier spell,” he told her. “No spirit can cross it.”
“Hold up,” Jolie said. “What about me? You can’t lock me out. My sister’s in there.”
“It’s to protect her.”
“Well, I’m not going to help you cast it unless you add a loophole. End of conversation.”