Her stomach churned as they passed the pizza parlor on Winchester Road—the one Dylan and her sister went to on a regular basis. It was a long shot, but right now it was better than no shot.
“Doris, would you mind dropping us off here?”
“Of course not, doll.” Doris pulled to a stop, and Midnight thrust a handful of money at her. She didn’t even wait for a receipt, despite the fact it was in the rulebook. Right now, all she cared about was finding her sister.
Midnight once again hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders. CARA seemed to be getting heavier by the minute. Tabitha was right behind her as they walked into the restaurant. Despite the black rain-soaked sky, the place was warm and filled with the heady scent of cheese, flour, and spices. Midnight scanned the restaurant as a server came over.
“I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for my sister, Taylor Reynolds.” Midnight held up her phone for the server to see. It wasn’t her sister’s best shot, which ironically was why Midnight had it on her phone. Just to annoy Taylor. She swallowed hard to stop from losing it.
“Sorry.” The server shook her head and led them to a table. Midnight was about to protest, but Tabitha held back her arm.
“We need to take a break and regroup,” Tabitha said as they both slid into the booth. Midnight silently nodded as numbness crept into her skin while Tabitha ordered a couple of drinks and some garlic bread. Midnight checked the flight app again, hoping the small plane icon would’ve magically reached its destination ahead of time. But it hadn’t. Peter Gallagher and the team were still several hours away.
“What’s wrong?” Tabitha said, sensing the panic, and when Midnight held up the screen, her friend winced. “Oh.”
Yeah, oh.
“Hey, we’re going to find her,” Tabitha repeated yet again.
“What if we don’t?” Midnight finally allowed herself to say the words out loud. They caught in her throat, and the room began to spin. “What if he hurts her?”
Tabitha was silent. Midnight didn’t need to be psychic to know she was thinking about the flying daggers that had attacked them in Dylan’s basement. It was hard enough to dodge them with full vision. But Taylor wouldn’t be able to see the full spectral energy. And she’d be scared. Confused.
“He won’t,” Tabitha said, but it was without conviction.
“He might. All because I didn’t tell her who he was. This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s Dylan’s fault for being an overprivileged kid who turned to the dark side just because he didn’t get his way,” Tabitha said in a firm voice. “But, Midnight, we can’t give up. Imagine if we’d given up when Miss Appleby was about to leave town. You saved thousands of trapped souls by stopping her. And you’ll stop this too.”
“How? We’ve searched everywhere.” The words were like dust in her mouth as the server brought over their order. Midnight’s phone beeped and she snatched at it, hoping it was from Taylor.
Instead it was from Malie and was a photograph of one of the dogs clutching the cosplay dress in its jaws. The caption read, “Veronica agrees with you. It’s much better to be myself.”
Midnight pushed the phone away and stared at the beads of moisture trailing down her glass. If only her problem could be as simply solved. But she was already being herself. She was doing everything right. Everything she was meant to do, and look where it had gotten her. Her sister was in danger. For all Midnight knew…
She froze as she picked up her phone again and studied the photograph. There in the corner was a slither of pink fog.
Eliza?
What was the ghost of Eliza Irongate doing in Malie’s photograph?
The first time she’d appeared had been when Midnight was at the movies with Logan. The second time was when she knocked over Midnight’s overloaded spreadsheet. The one where she was desperately trying not to let the different parts of her life blur.
She let out a soft gasp.
“I know that look,” Tabitha said. “What’s going on? Did you have an idea of where she might be?”
“No, not a clue,” Midnight said, but for the first time since Taylor had disappeared, some of the tension in her stomach lessened. “But I know someone who can help us. Someone who’s much better at looking for clues than we are.”
Tabitha’s eyes widened in understanding. “Logan? But what about ASP? He’s an unvetted civilian.”
“Yes, and perhaps if I’d trusted my instincts and asked for his help sooner, none of this would be happening. You told me I couldn’t compartmentalize my life, and I think that’s what Eliza’s been trying to tell me too.” Midnight scrolled through her address book. Logan’s number came up, along with a photo of him pulling a goofy face. She took a deep breath and hit Dial before she could change her mind.
“Midnight, hey. Is everything okay?” he said, answering on the third ring.
“Not exactly. I need some help, but it’s kind of complicated.”
“Complicated is my middle name,” he said, his voice warm. Somehow she knew he was smiling. “So, what’s going on…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“No, you hold it the other way,” Tabitha scolded half an hour later as they sat in Midnight’s bedroom and showed Logan the weapons she used on a daily basis. After Midnight had explained everything, he’d agreed to meet them back at her house so they could come up with a plan.
He’d been waiting for them at her back door, his hair slicked back from the rain and his cheeks red, as if he’d run the five blocks to her house. Her heart pounded with gratitude that he’d agreed so readily, accepting what she’d told him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. As if she was normal.
“And you use this to release the spectral energy and stop it from turning into planodiume?” Logan double—checked as he continued to turn CARA over in his hands. Then he looked at Midnight and seemed to read her expression. He put CARA down and coughed. “Sorry. So, I’ve been thinking about your sister. I don’t suppose you know her App Store log-in?”
“No.” Midnight shook her head before suddenly getting to her feet. “But I do know where her diary is, and Dylan was telling her how old-school she was to write down her passwords. But even if I can find it, how will that help?”
“Because if she’s anything like my older sister, she’ll have a Find My Phone app on her account. And if we can get in and activate it, we could get the GPS location. Assuming she has her phone on her.”
“It’s permanently glued to her side.” Midnight scrambled to her feet and raced into Taylor’s bedroom. She paused on the threshold for a moment and looked around. Normally, stepping into her sister’s room was punishable by a screaming fit of epic proportions. Midnight swallowed the thought down. If this worked, then Taylor would soon be home, and she could scream at Midnight as much as she wanted.
A pile of clothing was on the bed and another pile on the chest by the window, but Midnight was looking for an old suitcase. It had once belonged to their dad. Taylor pretended she only liked it because of the retro vibe, but Midnight suspected it was more than that. Which also explained why that’s where she kept her journals.
She snapped back the clasps and grabbed the pink notebook with gold writing on the cover. She flipped through it to the last page, which was titled, “My Passwords. Midnight, if you’re looking at this, you’re dead.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she wiped them away and hurried back to her room where Logan and Tabitha were hovering over his laptop.
“I got it.” Midnight read out the password and username and waited as Logan entered them. They collectively held their breath as the browser ticked over before Taylor’s account flashed on the screen.
Logan pressed his mouth together in concentration as his fingers flew across the keyboard, and then he smiled as a GPS map appeared on the screen.
“Okay. So, this was updated ten minutes ago, and it looks like Taylor’s phone is at…at the cemetery.”
“What?” Tabitha immed
iately leaned forward and increased the size before turning to them both. “It’s plot eight-three. That’s the Irongate mausoleum.”
“Are you sure?” Logan asked.
“This is Tabitha. Of course she’s sure.” Midnight reached for her jacket and started to load her backpack with CARA. “We need to get there right now.”
Tabitha’s face was lined with worry. “Peter Gallagher isn’t going to like this. And I don’t mean because of Logan. He said it was a Code Black. What if there are more flying ghost daggers?”
“Flying ghost daggers?” Logan’s eyes were like saucers. “Is that a thing?”
“Unfortunately, yes it is.” Midnight stopped her packing and peeled back her sleeve. The welt from where the dagger had grazed her was still red and puckered. “Which is why you two should stay here. It’s not fair for you to come when you can’t even see what Dylan might be throwing at us.”
“I think Tabitha meant that you shouldn’t go either,” Logan said in a soft voice, but Midnight shook her head.
“I don’t care. Mom and Phil are still looking for Taylor at all the stops on the way to the party, and Peter Gallagher’s two hours from landing. I don’t have a choice.”
“And no way am I letting you go alone,” Tabitha said as she looked around the room, her eyes settling on Taylor’s field hockey stick. She marched up and slung it over her shoulders. “I just meant that we should be careful.”
“Actually, what we really need is armor,” Logan said before catching sight of Midnight’s Viking helmet. “I don’t suppose your mom’s fiancé has any of his Viking costumes here?”
Midnight and Tabitha both stopped and looked at him. Tabitha was the first to speak. “Of course. That’s a brilliant idea. I’ve picked up that chain mail. It weighs a ton. If anything will stop ghost daggers, hopefully that will.”
Midnight looked at both her friends and gave them a wobbly smile. “Thank you. Both of you, I seriously owe you. Big time.”
“Let’s save your sister, and then worry about that,” Tabitha said as they finished packing and went down to the formal dining room currently being used as wedding headquarters. It was filled with costumes, large cooking vats, boxes of plates, an oversize boat oar. Everywhere Midnight looked were signs of a wedding. A wedding that would never happen if they couldn’t save Taylor.
Midnight swallowed hard as she opened the large chest that contained some of Phil’s collection. Fifteen minutes later, they were all wearing heavy steel helmets, oversize chain mail, and leather bands wrapped around their arms and legs.
“Okay,” Midnight said, her armor creaking as she called a taxi. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
At the best of times, Berry Cemetery was a creepy place with crumbling tombstones that poked out of the ground like broken teeth, all overshadowed by long, sweeping branches that rustled from unseen wind.
At ten o’clock on a rainy Sunday night, it was worse. So much worse.
“Follow me.” Tabitha led them through the cemetery gates. Thunder rumbled across the skies, followed by cracks of lightning bright enough to illuminate the shadowy surroundings. Wind howled all around them, but Midnight forced herself to follow Tabitha, who knew the place better than she knew her own house.
Logan was right behind them. He and Tabitha had spent the entire car ride over discussing the best way to stop Dylan from hurting anyone. But all Midnight could do was focus on her breathing.
The Irongate mausoleum was plain, with three concrete walls covered in trailing ivy. It was surrounded by a rusty fence and an old gate, which Tabitha pushed open.
Despite the pounding rain, they could see that the grass that had once grown there was dead, like the life had been sucked out of it. Dead plant life was never a good sign. It meant that planodiume was nearby.
Midnight gulped as she spotted light leaking out from under the mausoleum door.
She put down her backpack and lifted out CARA. Lightning once again split the sky, and CARA glowed against the darkness. Midnight had no idea if the weapon would work against Dylan, but she had to try. At least Taylor would know she wasn’t alone.
The Viking armor chafed Midnight’s skin, but after weeks of wearing it while her mom fitted her outfit, she was used to the weight and could move easily in it. Behind her, Tabitha and Logan weren’t quite as comfortable as they awkwardly moved.
The door creaked as they pushed it open to reveal a small, damp room. It was icy cold, lit only by a small camping lantern sitting on a concrete plinth. Midnight had a terrible feeling that underneath the plinth was the body of either George or William Irongate. She swallowed and continued her search. It almost appeared as though the room was empty before her torch landed on the figure of Dylan, leaning against one of the walls while holding a pair of daggers in his hand.
His face was a swirl of darkness, almost identical to the image Midnight had seen in the mirror that first day at the museum. There was a copper weapon by his feet. It was cone-shaped, with small tubes running around it. The particle realigner. Midnight shuddered.
“Oh, you ruined the surprise,” he drawled as dark flicks of planodiume wrapped around his entire body like a tattoo. He tossed a dagger into the air and caught it before nodding to the other side of the room. “And yes, before you ask. She’s here.”
“Taylor?” Midnight swept the torch across the room. Her sister was sitting in a chair, swirls of spectral energy wrapped around her ankles and wrists, keeping her prisoner.
“Midnight? Is that you? I can’t get up. He’s done something to trap me here. I don’t understand. Dylan’s gone crazy.”
“You can say that again,” Tabitha piped up as she waved her torch back to where Dylan was still standing. “His eyes are completely black.”
“You can see that?” Midnight gasped, realizing just how much planodiume he must’ve been exposed to. Even Miss Appleby had managed to hide her true appearance from the world. He’d also written dominus all over the wall again.
Midnight gulped. That didn’t bode well.
“Excuse me, Viking losers. In case you’re forgetting, I’m the guy with the daggers. So, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to put down that oversize Nerf gun and sit. Then Taylor’s going to have a little attitude adjustment before we head off to Europe.”
“And I told you that I’m not going anywhere with you,” Taylor snarled, giving him one of her best glares. Midnight had to respect her sister’s fighting spirit. “You think you can buy me with stolen goods, but you’re wrong.”
“You see, here’s the problem.” Dylan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Now that you know what I’ve been doing, I can’t exactly let you leave. And since you won’t come with me, there’s only one thing I can do.”
He raised his hands, and dark tendrils rose up from the ground like a fountain. Midnight sucked in her breath as he flicked his fingers and the spectral energy turned to daggers.
Dylan noted her reaction and quirked an eyebrow. “You can see them?”
“See what?” Taylor snarled at him. “Oh, and by the way, you’re still crazy.”
“And you’re still stuck in the chair.” Dylan growled before turning his attention back to Midnight. “I always thought you were a weird kid. This just proves it.”
“I’m weird?” Midnight said, trying not to notice the way the daggers swayed from side to side. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Where this power is coming from?”
“I’m so sick of people thinking that I’m stupid just because I don’t want to go to college.” Dylan’s face turned into a dark mask. “Of course I know where it comes from. I’ve been researching planodiume for years, ever since I found out that Berry was surrounded by a Black Stream. But until I discovered William Irongate had actually found a weapon to harness it, I thought it was just theory. I guess I should thank dear old Dad for making me collect all that stupid stuff for the museum.”
Midnight stared at him. He knew what spectr
al energy was. That he was using the souls of the dead. And he didn’t even care.
She tightened her grip on CARA as the daggers inched forward. Her plan was to try to release the trapped energy. Her finger tightened on the brass button just as Dylan brought his hand down like a conductor performing a symphony.
Daggers flew through the air, and Midnight pressed down on CARA. A wall of white light shot out, trapping the daggers in a glowing shield of energy. The air hissed, and Dylan’s smug expression fell away as sweat beaded up on Midnight’s brow. Finally, the daggers disappeared, and tiny shards of pink spectral energy floated to the ceiling.
“So, it’s not just a modified Nerf gun,” Dylan mused before waving his hands again. The dark tendrils that had been wrapped around him raced up and dragged the floating pink spectral energy back toward him, like a fisherman throwing a net.
“No,” she gasped.
“Yes.” He grinned. Then he gave another flick of his wrist, and this time the tendrils re-formed as a giant beast. It was eight feet tall, almost touching the ceiling of the mausoleum. Its eyes glowed as the rest of its body dripped with darkness.
Midnight shrank back as the beast raised a large claw, deadly talons glittering against the flickering light as they slashed the air. She jumped just in time, before the beast turned its attention to where Tabitha and Logan were huddled.
“Run,” Midnight shouted, sending her friends scattering just as the giant claw landed where they’d been standing moments ago. Panic lodged in her throat. She doubted the armor would stop the beast from hurting them.
“Is it bad?” Tabitha asked, holding the hockey stick high in the air.
“It’s not ideal,” Midnight admitted, almost pleased her friends couldn’t see what she could. The beast howled and stormed toward the chair where Taylor was sitting.
No. Midnight hoisted CARA back up and pressed down on the lever. White energy hurtled around the bear, locking it in like an iceberg. Her hands shook as the creature finally dissolved.
Midnight Reynolds and the Agency of Spectral Protection Page 13