MacMillian's voice echoed behind her. "Lena? Are you in here?"
"Yes!" She struggled harder. "Yes, I'm here! But I'm not-"
Before she could say alone, MacMillian barreled into the room. Relief flooded his face when he saw her, then he noticed the necromancer's son. He stopped in his tracks. "Jesus! What the fuck is that?"
Zintchio stared at them for a heartbeat without moving. Then his face twisted. "Jimmy! Where are you?"
MacMillian ignored him and rushed to Lena's side. He set to work on the remaining ropes. "Let's get you out of here. Jesus, fuck, what the hell were you thinking?"
"Later," Lena ground out.
She glanced back at the creature. It had hauled itself to its feet and was attempting to stagger around the table. Zintchio clung to its tattered jacket. "Mehil! What are you doing?"
Lena returned her attention to MacMillian. He was nearly done with the rope around her other wrist. Her gaze drifted upwards, and the blood drained from her face. Jimmy had rematerialized up near the ceiling. He caught her eye.
Then he disappeared.
MacMillian jerked. "What the...?" He grunted and doubled over, his face gray.
Lena tightened her jaw. "I don't think so."
She splayed her free hand over his chest. MacMillian gasped. His muscles twitched against her palm. Lena retreated into herself until she found the shadow again. It hovered just outside her conscious thoughts, silent, waiting. She beckoned it forward. It came immediately.
She turned her focus back to MacMillian. His energy hummed around her, oddly calm, despite Jimmy's invasion. With the shadow whispering instructions, she eased her way through it. MacMillian jerked again. His breath strangled.
Lena gritted her teeth and pressed into his subconscious. One by one, his thoughts and feelings bared themselves to her. His anger about the accident. His grief over his brother's death. His frustration with his leg. Tears filled her eyes. Her throat tightened.
The shadow urged her onward. Lena steeled herself and started to search. Soon she found the first telltale tendril. It was faint, weaker than she would have expected. Somehow, MacMillian was fighting it.
She seized it and followed it back to its source. Jimmy saw her coming. His jaw dropped. Lena and the shadow smiled. "Hey, Jimmy. Remember me?"
He tried to run. Lena just laughed. She caught him and pulled him into a tight hug. "Time to go."
Next thing she knew, she was lying on the table. Mehil and Zintchio were still struggling n the corner. Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.
MacMillian's face was drenched in sweat. He stared down at her. "What the fuck did you just do to me?"
Before Lena could answer, Mehil let out a feral screech. "Don't you understand? I don't want this! Please, just let me rest!"
Lena sat up. MacMillian finished with the ropes. "Time to go."
"Wait."
"Damn it, Lena..."
She fixed her eyes on his face. "When you came in, what was in the other room?"
MacMillian shifted. "Spells. Emil said they need to be burned, but your brother's lighter was a dud."
Lena nodded at one of the candles on the floor. "Take that. Go now. I'll be fine." She met his gaze. "Trust me."
MacMillian's jaw ticked, but he nodded, grabbed one of the candles and retreated back the way he'd come.
Lena waited until he was gone, then turned back to Zintchio and his son. "Mehil."
The creature looked up at her with one eye. The other lolled downward.
Lena suppressed a shudder. "Would you like to move on?"
Hope flared in its good eye. "Yes," it breathed.
Zintchio clutched its arm. "No! Mehil..."
The creature gave its arm a solid shake. Zintchio flew backwards, landed in a heap in the corner. A sob rasped his throat.
Lena forced herself to remain still as the creature crept towards her. It extended a hand. Skin hung loosely from its bones. Lena swallowed hard, reached out and touched its fingertips. She stared into its eyes and allowed her intent to flow between them.
The creature drew a deep breath, released it again with a hollow rattle. Its eye turned to glass. Without warning or ceremony, it dropped to the floor.
An anguished scream came from the corner. Zintchio clawed his way to his feet. He staggered towards Lena, his face red, a murderous look in his eyes.
Something whispered behind her, a sound like a strong breeze. Zintchio heard it too. He stopped.
Lena crossed her arms. "Do you know what that is, Mr. Zintchio? That means my partner has just set your spells on fire. Your slaves are free." She raised an eyebrow. "Now tell me, who do you think they'll be coming for first?"
Zintchio blanched.
"I can help you." Lena reached out a hand. "Give me the vessel holding Jimmy's child, and I'll make sure they all move on quietly."
Zintchio's eyes flicked from his son's body to the doorway. The approaching sound grew louder.
"You're running out of time. Make your decision."
Zintchio's mouth worked. Finally, he reached into his vest and pulled out the brazen vessel, tossed it to Lena.
She caught it and cradled it close. "Hey, little one. Your parents will be glad to have you back." She turned.
"Wait!"
She paused, looked back. "Yes?"
Zintchio's face was so pale, he looked like a ghost himself. "What about me?"
Lena studied him dispassionately. "What about you?"
"You said you would help me!"
She shrugged. "I lied."
She turned back around just as the first of the newly-freed familiars blasted through the doorway. Behind her, Zintchio screamed.
Lena continued out of the room without looking back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The flames from the burning spells cast MacMillian's face in sharp relief.
Lena studied him as he stared into the fire. He hadn't flinched at the screams that followed her from the other room. He hadn't looked at her, or looked up at all, for that matter. He simply watched while the goat-skins sparked and curled, and slowly disintegrated into ash. Gradually the screams died away, and an unearthly silence settled over the tunnels.
The embers were beginning to die down when Emil and Cyrus burst into the room. They paused briefly when they saw the pile of charred spells, then their attention settled squarely on Lena.
Cyrus reached her first. He pulled her into a hug and buried his face in her neck. "You're okay. Thank god."
He pulled away, and Emil stepped in. He hugged her gently, then took both her hands and held up her wrists for examination. His forehead furrowed. "You're hurt."
"None the worse for wear." Lena forced a smile. She didn't look at MacMillian.
Cyrus walked over to him and held out his hand. "Thank you."
MacMillian shook it. "No problem." He visibly pulled himself together and looked around. "What about Durbin?"
Emil spoke up. "Puzzle's with him. They're on their way back to the surface."
Lena stiffened. "Mark was here?"
Cyrus gave her a strange look, then winced. "He insisted. Got jumped the second we reached the big cave back there. I did a full cleanse, but, well, you know how most mundanes take to those things."
"Yeah." Lena finally looked at MacMillian. He didn't meet her eyes.
Something gusted against the back of her neck. Cyrus and Emil jumped back. Lena didn't have to see it to know what they saw.
She turned. "Hey, Jimmy."
He stood in the doorway of the other room, hands in his pockets, Tree beside him. He lifted his chin. "Hey, Lena."
He didn't offer an apology, and she didn't ask for one. He looked her square in the eye. "You know why we're here."
"Yeah. Pretty sure I do."
Cyrus looked from her to the two spirits, then back to her. "What's he talking about?"
"This." Lena pulled the brazen vessel from under her arm. "Zintchio was keeping this from them."
Emil leaned in for
a closer look. "What is it?"
"Their baby."
Emil jerked back. He traded glances with Cyrus, then held out a hand. "Mind if I have a look?"
Lena glanced at Jimmy. He nodded. She pressed the little box into Emil's palm, and he turned it over several times. A knot formed between his eyes. Lena watched his face. A parallel knot formed in her stomach. "What is it?"
Emil traced a finger over several rough etchings in the metal. "See these wards? They're rudimentary, but effective. Only the caster can break through them."
MacMillian spoke up. "That's not going to be possible."
Lena's stomach lurched, but he didn't say anything else. Still, he didn't look at her.
Panic shimmered over Jimmy's face. "Lena? What's going on? What does this mean?"
"It's okay, Jimmy." Lena turned back to Emil. "There has to be something you can do."
Emil glanced at Jimmy and Tree. His expression softened. He nodded. "I do know a few overrides. One of them should work."
He held the box up. Annunciating carefully, he spoke one word after another. Lena twisted her hands. Cyrus moved to her side and put an arm around her. MacMillian watched silently.
Emil blew out a breath. "Okay. Time for the big guns." He leaned closer to the box. "Patû."
Tumblers clicked inside the lock. Emil leaned back again, a pleased look on his face. MacMillian raised an eyebrow. "That must have been some override."
Emil's lips curved. "The Akkadian word for 'open'." He passed the box to Lena.
She cradled it gently. She could feel the soul inside, pulsing gently in her hands. Her chest tightened. It was so innocent, so clean. Had her soul started out that way, too? She couldn't bear to imagine what it must look like now.
Jimmy and Tree were watching her expectantly. Lena bit back a sigh, and opened the box.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Tree stepped forward. "Are you sure it's in there?"
At the sound of Tree's voice, the energy in the box started to hum. A tiny, bluish-white light slowly rose from inside it. Lena caught her breath. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, like the heart of a fledgling star.
It hesitated for another moment, then started forward. Tree clapped her hands over her mouth. Jimmy came up to stand beside her, his face slack with wonder. The light drew closer, and they reached out in tandem.
It touched their fingers, and Tree choked back a cry. She stared at it, enthralled. Jimmy looked over at Lena. Tears glistened on his cheeks. His voice echoed in her head, so deep in her consciousness she was sure only she heard it.
Thank you.
She nodded, the lump in her throat too tight to answer. He turned back to his family and wrapped his arms around them.
Without another word, the three of them flickered out.
←↑↓→
MacMillian leaned back in his desk chair, disregarding the protesting spring. In the corner of the office, the dusty old television was playing the news. He'd been ignoring it since Darius turned it on, but the next headline made him sit up and pay attention.
"The city's most vulnerable residents are resting a little easier this evening after a daring raid in North Beach."
A familiar image flashed onscreen. It was The Butterfly Room. The lot was enclosed in bright yellow crime scene tape, teeming with police and fire trucks. The camera zoomed in to show covered stretchers being hoisted from the extraction shaft.
The news anchor's voice played over the footage. "Earlier today, the San Francisco Police Department revealed an ongoing investigation into several disappearances in the Tenderloin district."
Another video clip came onscreen. This time it was Durbin, standing in front of a row of microphones. "My team and I were notified via anonymous tip that someone might be targeting residents of the Tenderloin. My office has been looking into these allegations quietly, and with the help of several concerned citizens, we confirmed the threat to be genuine."
MacMillian snorted.
The news anchor returned. "Early this morning, Inspector Durbin and a small team raided the suspect's hideout, located in an off-shaft of the city's future Downtown Subway system. The suspect, longtime community icon Gershon Zintchio, is believed to have perished during the standoff."
MacMillian crossed his arms.
The anchor continued. "Now for how all this will affect the Downtown Subway project, we go to Cindy Nguyen, live in North Beach. Cindy?"
MacMillian turned the television off just as Darius walked in. Darius humphed. "Nice try, but I've already seen it. It's been playing all day." He rolled his eyes. "Sure was sweet of your boyfriend to give credit where it's due."
MacMillian shrugged. "Probably for the best. What would we do with that kind of publicity?"
Darius stopped halfway to his office door, turned, and fixed him with an incredulous stare. "Who are you, and what have you done with my partner? Seriously, did something happen to you down there?"
MacMillian sighed. "You don't know the half of it." He leaned back. "I was out of my league again, Darius. You know I don't like that."
"The Van Van oil-"
"Helped, but not enough." MacMillian stared at a nonexistent speck on the wall.
Darius watched him. "So, what now?"
MacMillian shook his head. "Hell, I don't know. I have a lot of catching up to do." He slid Darius a sidelong glance. "I could use some help."
Darius's brow furrowed. He started to say something.
The phone on MacMillian's desk cut him off. MacMillian sighed again and picked it up. "MacMillian and deCompostela. MacMillian speaking."
A tentative voice piped over the line. "This is MacMillian, the rom baro?"
MacMillian closed his eyes. He covered the mouthpiece and looked up at Darius. "I have to take this."
Darius's brow stayed furrowed. "Everything all right?"
"Yeah." MacMillian bit the inside of his cheek. "Family business."
Darius's eyebrows went up. He nodded and continued into his office.
MacMillian waited until he was gone, then removed his hand from the mouthpiece. "Hey. You still there? Yeah, you've reached him. What do you need?"
←↑↓→
She couldn't avoid her bedroom forever.
Lena stared at the closed door over yet another mug of tea. She hadn't gone in since arriving home. She couldn't bring herself to. The memories were still too fresh: the blacked-out mirror, the shadows in the closet, the inky liquid she'd heaved onto her floor. She'd reminded herself it was a dream too many times to count. She was almost to the point where she believed it.
Almost.
She took a long sip of tea. Before she could run the events over in her head yet again, the door buzzed. "Thank god," she muttered. Something to distract her. She set down her mug and trotted down the hall, plastered a smile on her face before hitting the two-way on the intercom. "You're early."
MacMillian's voice rumbled through the speaker. "Didn't realize you were expecting me."
Lena's eyes widened. "MacMillian. Hey. Sorry." She took a deep breath. "Come on up."
She hit the buzzer, and waited impatiently for the knock on her door. She opened it to find MacMillian leaning against his cane, one eyebrow arched. "I take it we didn't have some appointment I'd forgotten about."
Lena debated lying, quickly decided against it. "Mark's coming by to pick me up in a bit."
His expression didn't change. "Mark."
"Yeah." Lena shifted. "We're, ah, heading up the coast for the weekend."
MacMillian's dark eyes bored into her face. "Seems like you two are taking things kind of fast."
"Why not? We're both adults." Lena shrugged and looked away. "Besides, we both need to get out of town for a bit."
MacMillian nodded and looked away too. "I can understand that." He cleared his throat. "That's why I'm here, actually." He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, passed it to her. "Your brother loaned me this the other day."
Lena took it. "Black amber. Nice, Cyrus."
MacMillian rested a hand against her doorframe. "He never did say what it was for. Care to enlighten me?"
Lena rubbed the glossy surface. "It's your basic protection stone. Absorbs negative energy, guards against psychic attack and general evil." She studied it. "I wondered how you managed to hold Jimmy off the way you did."
"Yeah. That must have been it." There was something else in his voice, but he changed the subject before she could press the matter. "Anyway, I'm on my way out of town too. I figured I should get it back to you guys before I left."
Lena jerked her head up. "You're leaving?"
"Not for good. Just some family business I have to take care of."
"Oh. Of course." Relief coursed through her veins. She didn't allow herself to examine it too closely. Instead, she forced a light smile. "I guess a king's work is never done, right?"
MacMillian ducked his head, but not before she caught the quick grin that flashed over his face. "Something like that."
Lena tried to tear her eyes away. Couldn't. It was the first real smile she'd ever seen from him. He looked up again. Their eyes locked.
Flustered, she did the only thing she could think of and shoved the amber back at him. "Here. You should hold onto this."
His eyebrows lifted.
She gave what she hoped might pass for a casual shrug. "I mean, who knows, right? You might need it someday."
MacMillian cleared his throat. "No offense, but my world is crazy enough without adding ghosts, zombies, and necromancers to the mix."
Lena humphed.
MacMillian searched her face. She didn't know what he saw on it, but his expression changed, softened in a way she couldn't describe if she tried. He held out his hand. "However, since this is a gift, I accept. Thank you."
Lena placed the chunk of amber back into his palm. He let it sit there for a moment, then made a fist around it and slipped it back into his pocket. He met her eyes again. "There's something I need to ask you."
His voice was serious. Lena leaned against the door. "Okay. Shoot."
"You were in my head."
The bluntness of the statement momentarily threw her. She opened her mouth. "Ah..."
MacMillian held up a hand. "Don't try to deny it. I felt you there. I just need to know... how much did you see?"
A World Apart (Shades Below, #1) Page 20