I have to open my eyes, she thought fighting the dizziness and after effects of whatever she’d been drugged with. I have to see who this is.
Before she could manage more than to weakly thrash her head from side to side, he was back and had grabbed her hair again. He gagged her with the rag he’d had her hands tied with before, and she took advantage of the moment and managed to crack her eyes open. The face that came into focus was such a shock that she froze and he shoved a wet cloth under her nose. She tried to struggle and he ground the cloth into her face; she smelled the same sharply metallic scent that had filled her mouth and everything went grey….
*******************************
“I am certain she is not dead,” Jessilaen repeated, his voice ragged but unwavering. “I would know if she were.”
Unexpectedly the Outcast spoke up as well, “I agree, Guard. She is not dead, at least not yet. If we hope to keep her that way we must find her with all speed.”
The group of Elven Guard - Zarethyn, Jessilaen, Brynneth, and Natarien - as well as Bleidd and Detective Riordan had gathered at Allie’s house. The remaining Guard squads and police were searching the cemetery and surrounding area, so far without success. Zarethyn had ordered Allie’s cousin and other roommate placed under Guard until she was found as a precaution, something that her cousin had resented greatly. He had not relented though, fearing that they should repeat their error in losing Allie by allowing harm to come to any of her remaining friends or family.
Zarethyn looked from one to the other after the two elves spoke. He knew both blamed themselves for Allie being taken during the funeral, after they had left her unguarded, a burden he shared. When the Dark elves had appeared so blatantly they had all reacted without enough thought, and assumed that the half-elf would be safe surrounded as she was by so many human police. It had been a real shock to return after a fruitless pursuit to find that Detective Walters had been attacked and Allie was gone. “How is Detective Walters?”
“He’s fine,” Riordan said, sounding like a man who was nearly at the end of his own strength. Zarethyn looked at him sharply, wondering if the human had the fortitude to see this through to the end. “They sent him home to recover but he’s insisting on working his next shift. Wouldn’t even go in the ambulance. Looks like someone came up behind him and shoved some kind of drugged rag under his nose. He said he got a strong dose of it before he even realized what was going on, and next thing he knew he was on the ground, which is where the other guys found him. I know it doesn’t count for much, but he feels awful about the whole thing.”
Brynneth was spreading maps out onto a folding card table that Bleidd had set up in the living room. “The question is why did he not kill the detective?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Riordan said angrily.
“Not at all, but it is illogical. It would have been easier and safer for the killer to eliminate the detective instead of leaving him alive and a potential risk.”
“Maybe. But maybe it was a time issue. He was surrounded by cops–maybe he saw an opportunity to grab Ms. McCarthy when he saw her with just one cop walking out to the car and decided to seize the moment, but was trying to be fast before anyone else noticed. He comes up behind them–not hard with so many people, they wouldn’t have noticed someone in a parking lot–and he knocks out Walters and then grabs the girl. He gets her in his car and takes off in the confusion before anyone even notices.” Riordan said
Brynneth didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press the point. Jess tried to get them re-focused “We must find her. She was saying this morning that we have all the pieces of the puzzle, but we are failing to put them together. We must see what we are missing before it’s too late.”
Zarethyn nodded. “What is the common thread, besides Aliaine?”
No one spoke.
***************************
As the hours went by she tried to rest and gather her strength, ignoring the pain. The concrete was cold under her cheek, her ankle throbbed in an insistent way that made her think it was probably broken, and she was desperately tired, but she found that she could draw strength by focusing on Jessilaen. At first she thought it was only her imagination, but as time dragged on she was certain that the more she focused on him the stronger the connection to him became. Bleidd had told her that in a few cases elves could psychically bond to each other on a deep level that allowed for an unspoken exchange of emotions and thoughts. Of course he had also said this was an extremely rare occurrence which took years to form and was almost certainly impossible for her due to her father’s mortal blood.
As an empath, she could also form emotional connections to people, like the one she appeared to have had with Syndra, although she hadn’t ever been aware of them before. And yet she was increasingly certain she could feel Jess’s presence in her mind, his fear for her, desperation, and rage were distinctly not her own. Either he really was there, in her head in some way, or she was finally losing her mind from the stress. She wondered if this was an Elven thing or an aspect of the empathy like the connection she had had to Syndra, or some strange hybrid of the two. She felt a burning rage and terror thinking of Syn, but struggled to push it aside.
Maybe–maybe, somehow I do have that soul bond with him, and because of my gift with empathy, amplifying the emotions and solidifying things, that’s why it’s stronger and it formed faster than anyone thought it should. Maybe somehow that’s what’s allowing me to reach out and connect to him at this distance. That’s an awful lot of maybes… It seemed impossible and she didn’t think it was supposed to work this way.
So far she hadn’t been able to read anyone who wasn’t either in physical contact with her or very close by unless she dropped all her shields completely, which she’d already proven was a bad idea. She was fairly sure Syndra had reached her only because of the agony the other woman had been suffering at the time, resonating through their connection and touching Allie’s sleeping mind. Still it seemed too much for coincidence that she was the key to the elves solving these murders, which had led her to meet and love Jessilaen, and now her own life depended on the Elven Guard finding her and this tenuous connection to Jess might be the only way for her to be saved and for the killer to be caught.
I could almost believe in Elven synchronicity after this, Allie thought, if I’m still alive after this, that is. I wonder though, if this is all part of a greater pattern–if I met him and we love each other because it’s supposed to save me now, or at least catch the killer–how? How does it work? She closed her eyes trying to think past the throbbing in her head. I can feel what he’s feeling, so he can probably feel what I’m feeling too? Maybe, maybe not. I couldn’t project anything to him when I tried at the Outpost. Bleidd did say that people who have this connection can use it though, can communicate with it, but how? My own empathy has always been receptive only. But Syndra pulled me to her…
She tried to roll over, to relieve some of the cramping in her shoulders from the way her arms had been tied and hit her foot against the iron railing he’d put across the inside of the door to keep her from escaping. The metal seared the exposed flesh of her ankle, and she writhed away reflexively, tears streaming from her eyes as every single injury added its pain to this new agony.
At the same time though she was vaguely aware that the feeling of Jess-ness surged stronger and more clearly; she even had a momentary, disorienting glimpse of maps laid out on an unfamiliar table. I think I just saw through his eyes, she thought, gasping, and trying not to vomit behind the gag. The physical pain was almost overwhelming and it was easier to focus on this new revelation than on what her body was going through.
Stop and think Allie, she told herself, there’s something about this–it was in the grimoire, she realized, it’s the same idea behind cutting up the girls–using pain to fuel magic with a set spell to create an amplifying effect. Pain as an energetic battery to create a long term effect rather than creating a one-time powe
r surge. That’s what the book said. Tharien said my own gift allows me to use emotions to power my magic… but my own emotions? My own pain… instead of other peoples… If I can channel my own pain into this energy-echo spell to amplify my natural ability I should be able to use it to reach to him, to get him to hear me.
She felt a momentary uncertainty about the wisdom of this; there was no way to know if it would work at all or what long term effects it would have on her or Jessilaen and she could very easily create something permanent that she’d regret later. Yeah well, at least I’ll be alive later to regret it, she thought grimly.
She took a deep breath and allowed herself to feel the pain of every bruise, scrape, and blow. She sensed the energy building and struggled to divide her attention, so that she was still feeling the pain while also setting the spell to gather the energy and set up the energetic echo that would create the permanent power effect. She wrestled with it and then without warning the spell fell into place with an almost physical snap. She took the channeled energy and used it, reaching out to Jess; she could feel what he was feeling now as if he were next to her and when she closed her eyes, she could see through his, but still she could not get him to hear her. She ground her teeth down on the gag in frustration. The spell had worked, had amplified her natural ability, but not in a helpful way.
Then it occurred to her to use the emotional energy as well, since the set spell was in place and needed no more effort from her. If she doubled the energy–doubled the effect–maybe that would give her the extra reach to communicate with him. She took a deep breath and repeated the process, this time intentionally bringing up all of her emotional pain; all the feelings of grief and guilt about Syndra, the fear for herself, the anger and betrayal that this was all at the hands of someone she–and Syndra–had trusted. The emotions rose like a wave and she wasn’t sure she could control it. It was much harder to get the spell set this time and she was sweating and panting on the cold floor when it finally worked. The spell fell into place, resonated, and melded with the first one. Unexpectedly it did not double the effect; it increased it by orders of magnitude. Allie felt a moment of panic as the combined energy surged and overwhelmed her. The tingle of magical energy became a painful burning, like grabbing an electric fence, and she felt her whole body convulsing slightly as the energy went into the only outlet she’d given it–herself. It was over in an instant, the spells still holding and radiating energy. She lay limp and stunned on the floor, feeling very much like a blown fuse.
She had no idea what she had just done to herself, and there was no chance to worry about it. She could only hope it was enough to reach Jess and get a message through, and she would have to worry about the consequences later. This time when she reached out to Jessilaen, with the combined energy of the two echo-spells powering her it was noticeably easier. She could see clearly through his eyes, and she felt his sudden disorientation as he subconsciously acknowledged her. With rising excitement she tried again to speak to him.
“Jess, can you hear me?”
***********************************
Jessilaen was standing looking down at the maps spread out on the cheap table, trying to see what possible pattern they could be missing, while the others went over everything they knew for the third time, when he felt suddenly dizzy. He staggered slightly and grabbed the edge of the table. He heard his brother asking, “Jessilaen, what is it?”
And then Allie’s voice was in his head.
“Jess, can you hear me?
He fell to the floor, caught completely off guard by the uncanniness of it.
“Allie?” He thought back automatically.
“Yes! You can hear me! Finally!”
He imagined he could feel an excitement, almost exhilaration, that wasn’t his own, and it was quite unnerving. He wondered if this was how it always was for her, and if so, how she could stand it without going mad. Zarethyn and Brynneth had rushed to his side and were trying to understand what was wrong; he looked up, disbelieving, “It’s Allie, she is speaking to me.”
“Speaking to you?” Riordan said, shocked, “Speaking to you how?”
“Telepathically,” Zarethyn guessed correctly, “Although that skill should be well beyond her.”
“Allie has a way of working around her own limitations,” Bleidd said briskly. “Ask her where she is.”
“I can hear them through you,” Allie replied in his mind, before he could pass the question on. “I don’t know where I am exactly. In a shed, probably a backyard. But it’s important, you have to know–Walters is the killer.”
As soon as the words reached him he surged back to his feet, enraged. Riordan flattened himself against the wall, obviously afraid that the elf had lost his mind. The other Guards were trying to restrain him, as his brother pled with him.
“Jessilaen what is it? Tell us. You must share what she is saying, we cannot hear her.”
“Walters.” He growled, “Detective Walters is the killer.”
“No,” Riordan said, his face going pale. “That’s impossible. Not Rick. No way.”
Jess turned to glare at the human and the man shrunk away from the burning rage in his eyes. “Allie says it is him and she has no reason to lie.”
“It makes sense, Detective, distasteful as it may be for you. He had inside knowledge of the case from the beginning. Aeyliss would have trusted him enough to give him her back near her car, and Officer Lyons would have trusted him as well. Indeed all the victims would have trusted him, if only because he was a police officer,” Zarethyn said grimly.
Riordan grimaced. “I know he doesn’t like elves, but I can’t believe he feels so strongly he’s willing to kill people to push the worlds back apart with some crazy ritual. He isn’t even a mage or witch.”
“That you know of,” Bleidd said, “He could have been hiding that part of his life from others.”
Riordan winced, “I still don’t want to believe it. But the ritual site was on an empty lot near his parent’s house. Didn’t seem suspicious at the time.”
“And he was the one who was supposed to check the list of descendants from the original coven, and said it came up empty,” Zarethyn said. “Who would waste time double checking? And I wager we shall find his name on the list of descendants.”
“Where is she?” Bleidd interrupted.
“She does not know. In a shed somewhere, she says,” Jess answered quickly. Then he held up a hand to get them all to quiet down.
“Are you alright? Have you been harmed?” He was trying to focus on Allie but unsure how this communication worked.
“I’ve had better days,” she answered evasively. “I’m tied up and… I think my ankle is broken, so I can’t walk, at least not far. Don’t worry about me now though, you need to catch him! He doesn’t know you know it’s him. This is your chance to get him, before he gets wind you’re on to him and escapes. You can get me after you get him.”
Jess was shaking his head, and Bleidd grabbed him before Zarethyn pried the two apart, “What is it? What is she saying?”
“She will not tell me how badly she is hurt, beyond a broken ankle. She’s bound and cannot escape, I don’t think. She wants us to apprehend Detective Walters before he knows we have learned his identity and escapes,” Jess said, feeling frustrated.
“Is he still there with you?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t killed me yet, so he’s got to be waiting for something, but besides calling me a bitch, we haven’t exactly had a conversation.” Allie replied.
Jess looked back up at the others, “She doesn’t know where he is right now, but she thinks he might be waiting for something, and that is why he has not killed her yet.”
“Perhaps he plans to use her in his ritual?” Natarien suggested, frowning.
“No,” Zarethyn said, thinking quickly. “It is well after dark now, if he planned to use her in that way he would already have begun, and he cannot hope to hold her alive until the next dark moon.” He gla
nced at Riordan and then switched to Elvish. “No, the Dark elves attacked at the funeral, an uncommon, blatant tactic for them, and it provided the prefect distraction to allow for her to be taken.”
“You believe they have allied with each other? To what purpose?” Brynneth asked in the same language.
“What are you saying?” Riordan asked, confused. The elves waved him off.
“They attacked her before for the book. Perhaps he found them before we could and told them she had destroyed it after reading it. He could have offered her in exchange for their assistance. Or they may even have approached him first, asking for the same thing,” Zarethyn said thoughtfully, still in his own language.
“So you believe he is holding her captive intending to trade her to the agents of the Dark Court?” Bleidd asked.
“What’s going on?” Riordan asked again, starting to recover from the earlier shock enough to be annoyed.
“It doesn’t matter Detective, except that the ones who disrupted the funeral were elves who came here to cause trouble, and it was they who attacked Aliaine in her store. They were seeking her grandmother’s book, and now that she’s destroyed it they may be seeking her in its place.”
“Allie?” Jess asked.
“Okay, now I’m really scared. But, still…you still need to catch Walters” Allie replied.
“Listen, I need a warrant to arrest Rick,” Riordan flinched as he said it, “And we don’t have nearly enough to get that. We have to find Ms. McCarthy first, alive, so that she can testify against him.”
“For once Detective, we are entirely in agreement,” Zarethyn said. “Aliaine must be found alive as soon as possible.” He looked at Jessilaen. “Can she help guide us to her?”
Murder Between the Worlds: A Between the Worlds Novel Page 23