After a brief conversation in Spanish, too fast for Darion to follow, the man turned to them. “Welcome to the Lord’s Bank. I’m Stewart and my wife, Isabella, said you’re in need of a room.”
“Yes.”
“It looks like you may need more than a room.” He focused on Becca, who looked paler by the minute.
“Any medical supplies would be appreciated as well.”
“Does trouble follow you? I can’t protect you from the city coven.”
“Mundanes threw us off a ship for being wizards. We wish only for shelter and will remain quiet.”
The man rubbed his goatee looking the three of them over. “You can stay. We’re told to love our neighbors, even magicians. God bless your souls. You need religion more than we do. Daily services are mandatory for any under my roof.”
No wonder the room was available. Darion just wanted to get inside. “Okay. We will pay double for any medical supplies you have, and food as well.”
“Okay. Come on.”
Navina paid the man an extra coin and then the three of them followed the woman to their room. Of course, it wasn’t a hotel, or even a decent room, but it would do. Hand-woven rugs covered a cement floor. Two mats lay on the floor for sleeping.
“I will bring one more mat and supplies.” The woman closed the door as she left.
Becca stumbled to the low bed, and Darion caught her, helping her down. Her face had a sheen of perspiration to it. He gently laid her down and began untying the bandage.
“It’s a sign of how much my shoulder hurts,” she gave an intake of breath as he pulled away her long sleeve shirt, “that you agreed to stay here. I worry that his religion is how to marry young island girls.”
“Don’t worry. I’m pretty happy with the girl I got.” He peeled back her jacket and cut off her shirt, leaving her in a tank top.
Biting her lip, she grunted against the pain. He preferred when she swore. A swearing angry Becca was a lot less scary than a pale quiet Becca. Turning he saw Navina pale. He needed the towels and supplies but was too worried about Navina to send her out in a new place by herself.
They could barely make it across the ocean without dying. What made them think they would make it to the ruins of the old magicians? A knock sounded on the door, then Isabella entered with supplies.
She set them down next to Becca and remained kneeling beside the mat. Grabbing Becca’s clammy hand, she turned to Darion. “You’re a wizard, right?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Then put her to sleep. I will fix wound.”
He turned to Becca. That kind of magic wasn’t his forte, but maybe he could figure something out. “Is that what you want? It won’t hurt as much.”
“Let Navina do it.” Becca struggled to speak. “She’s been dying to put me out for a while.” Becca had told him that the two of them often trained and fought together, and ever since Becca surpassed her, Navina had been fighting to get back on top.
He turned to the young girl, who looked traumatized enough for one day. “Can you do that Navina? So we can heal Becca.”
The young girl swallowed and stepped to the foot of the bed. “I’ll just put you to sleep.”
“Just so you know, Navina, this doesn’t count as a win for you.”
Tears fell on the girl’s cheeks as she lifted her hands, but she managed a slight smile. “It so does.”
Chapter Eighty-Six
Before the sun set on the day, Andre packed up to leave. Part of Elizabeth wanted to stay. This man knew more about Seers than anyone else she knew. Richard’s teachings focused her visions on particular people. Training that Andre, Caleb, and the others thought she was too weak to receive. But she needed to know how to protect herself and how to focus her attention.
“Are we headed back to base?” Caleb asked as they loaded the Jeep.
“No. We’re headed to another coven, one I think will be important,” Andre said.
“Why?” Nikki frowned. “We’ll need to check on the others.”
“I talked to Amanda already. She and Leon have things under control.”
At the direction of Richard, Elizabeth had looked at the future of Andre’s group. She saw Doc and the others at the camp, going about the regular activities, though if she pushed further it became clouded. Richard said that was because the future changed so much it was hard to see. But what she did see made her feel okay about leaving Doc and the others.
After a moment Andre continued. “When you spoke of your visions, Elizabeth, the one containing fierce but beautiful witches at my side, I realized we needed to contact Sylvia’s coven. I had been thinking about it for a while before your vision, but it proved that we did need them. And if things go smoothly, we move the others closer to joining us.”
Elizabeth remembered the woman who looked prettier than a painting. Her beauty was accented by a fierce determination as she attacked the magicians in front of them. It was almost mesmerizing.
“Who’s Sylvia?” Nikki asked.
“Someone you’ll have to see for yourself.” Andre kept his eyes on the road.
Before Elizabeth could comment on the beauty of the woman from her vision, flashes of pain shot through her. She gasped, hunching forward. Becca, what’s wrong?
There was no immediate answer.
Caleb unbuckled and was at her side. “What is it?”
“Becca’s in pain. It’s her shoulder.” Elizabeth grabbed her own shoulder.
“Her shoulder?”
“Yeah. It must be bad if she can’t hide it from me anymore.” Her chest tightened as she struggled to get a breath.
“Can you do anything?” Caleb asked Andre.
“I can try to talk to Darion, if we stop and I set up the proper spell. But Elizabeth has a much clearer connection to her sister.”
“All I can feel is pain.” She continued to claw at her shoulder, wondering who or what caused this. Then without knowing how, it came to her. Becca’s thoughts were so twisted in agony it was hard to see at first. “She was shot.”
Alarm flooded Caleb’s face, and his hands gripped Elizabeth’s arms. “No.” It came out as a whisper.
“She’s getting help. I can feel it. She just can’t concentrate enough to talk to me.”
Becca, are you okay? Becca talk to me. I’m worried.
Before her sister could answer, the connection was cut.
“She’s gone,” she stared in Caleb’s face, fighting to keep her fear under control. There were a hundred reasons the connection was gone. Or at least she thought there was. With her limited use of magic, she could only think of one, and she couldn’t let herself think that.
Caleb squeezed Elizabeth’s arm. “Becca is one of the strongest people I know. She wouldn’t be taken down by a bullet in the shoulder. And Darion would go to heaven and hell to save her.”
She wished Caleb’s face believed all the words he was saying. She nodded, knowing once she let the fear and panic take over, there was no reining it back in.
Andre finally spoke. “If I was Darion and Navina, I’d put her to sleep if I had to work on her wound. It would be the safest and easiest way.”
“Me too.” Nikki turned to face Elizabeth, compassion and worry in her kind smile.
“Okay.” Elizabeth said, forcing herself to believe in their words. Because if they weren’t true… well, she couldn’t think past that. She leaned back against the seat, staring as night fell upon the scenery.
They kept driving through the darkness. Elizabeth slept through the night only waking when they stopped to switch drivers. Dreams or visions flitted across her mind, but nothing she could make sense of.
Darion often appeared by her side, cuddling behind her in a way that he’d only do with Becca. Those types of dreams often made her feel uncomfortable. She wasn’t supposed to think about her sister’s boyfriend in that way and she wouldn’t if it wasn’t for her connection to Becca.
Demons also accompanied her dreams. A few times, a dark
winged creature spoke to her, like a person, not the flesh eating monsters that demons were. She couldn’t figure out the dreams but told herself it was due to the travel and events of the day. Yet she couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that it was something more.
Beginning to wake, Becca shifted and pain shot down her arm. She must have made some noise because Darion was at her side. Reaching, she found his hand.
“Have I been out all night?” Last Becca remembered, Navina put her to sleep while they tended to the bullet hole in her shoulder.
“Yes.” He brushed a piece of hair back from her face. The dark shadows under his eyes told her he didn’t have an easy night either. “You gave me quite a scare.”
“Me too.” In her old line of work as a black market runner, she’d had her fair share of pain, but never been shot. Between her injury and hiking through the jungle, she wasn’t sure if she’d make it.
“I’d tell you to go back to bed and get some rest, but Stewart wants us all at morning devotional.”
“What? I thought that was all a bad dream.” It hurt to roll over, and this nut job wanted her to get up for some type of service.
“Yeah, but my only hope is his crazy will keep us well hidden for now.”
Navina entered the room. “I finished setting up chairs out back. A few of the neighbors showed up.”
“Neighbors too?” Becca felt vulnerable as it was and now to have to go out amongst strangers.
“I checked out the town this morning before breakfast,” Darion said. “This religion, with the gold pentagram necklaces, is pretty prevalent. Being so close to the dimensional portal, it may be something we want to look into.”
“You believe what Stewart is selling?”
“I don’t know what he is selling, but it seems popular. Many myths and beliefs have a basis in some type of history.”
Darion was right, but Stewart unsettled Becca. Maybe her injury had something to do with it. Given her life experiences, she didn’t trust easily.
“Come on, let’s get you fed first.” Darion helped her sit up.
The idea of food cheered her up. And though her shoulder was sore as hell, Becca did feel better sleeping, even with her weird dreams.
“Right here.” Darion offered her a plate of fresh fruit, bread and fish.
Given Becca couldn’t remember her last meal, she wasn’t picky and cleaned off the plate along with a couple cups of water. He went off to check with Stewart about the time of the service while Navina helped Becca get dressed.
The young girl’s hands were shaking as she pulled Becca into a clean shirt. Becca hissed as her shoulder pinched.
“Sorry.” Navina withdrew, not looking Becca in the eyes.
She realized the last twenty-four hours were probably nothing like Navina experienced. And while Becca had been dealing with the curve balls of life for some time, this girl was still only a girl no matter what her asshole-magician father had put her through. Becca hadn’t been around children a lot, but Navina had handled the last couple days better than most adults would.
Becca reached out and took her hand. “Hey, Navina. How are you holding up?”
“I didn’t get shot, so better than you.” The girl lifted her chin, though her eyes still held worry.
“Hey.” Becca waited until she looked in her eyes. “You may not have been shot, but you’ve been through a lot. And despite everything that has happened with us, you have kept your head. You had the foresight to grab my bag before we headed off the ship. And despite me being shot off the boat, you kept going to the shore with Darion. You’ve been through a lot. It’s alright if you’re having a hard time to.”
The young girl’s hand trembled, as her tough façade began to crack. “I’m sorry if I messed everything up by coming. I didn’t mean to get you guys in trouble.”
Becca pulled her into a hug. “I know, Navina. You didn’t mess anything up. Kai would have ratted us out on the boat either way. You have helped, a lot. Granted, my blood pressure is through the roof, thinking about you getting hurt.” She pulled back to find Navina’s tear-filled gaze. “I just want you to know, I’m here if you need a break or to talk. Life is crazy, and sometimes when you talk to someone, the crazy doesn’t seem so bad.”
The girl bit her lip, forcing her tears not to fall. “Okay.”
Darion entered the room again. “You ladies, ready?”
Navina turned her back to him to wipe at her eyes. Darion raised a brow in question, and Becca gave him a reassuring look. “Yeah, we’re almost ready. Just need to put on my jacket.”
“Isabella did offer you a dress of sorts for devotion.”
“No.” Navina blurted out. Guess she had something against dresses.
Darion chuckled. “Don’t worry. I told her no thanks. Becca isn’t a big fan of dresses either. Where would she hide her knives then?”
Navina perked up a bit and turned to Becca. “Do I get a knife?”
After a quick glance to Darion, she answered, “Sure, but that also means lessons from me as well. I don’t want you to skewer yourself.” In all honesty, Becca liked the idea of the child armed. She was a talented witch, but sometimes magic wasn’t always there, and Becca wanted the child protected.
“No knives until after we get through morning devotional.” Jacket on, Becca headed to the door. “I don’t want you to knife someone.”
“Deal.”
The three of them walked through the small house, and Becca glimpsed the kitchen. While it held a stove and a couple modern appliances, cement floors and hand-carved furniture spoke of rustic living. Out the main hallway, they entered the backyard. A small patch of open land backing up to the jungle. A podium stood at one end, and at the other people filled a mix of chairs, cushions, and wood benches.
They headed for the wood bench in the back. Keeping to themselves, Becca watched the others file in. A mix of young and old villagers filled the backyard, and a majority of them had the same necklace: a gold pentagram hung on a black strand of cord.
As everyone settled down, Stewart walked out with a covered cage in one hand. As he uncovered the cage, surprise, not shock, left Becca gaping. She would have never guessed that Stewart, a Mundane, would own such a creature. Even more surprising was everyone’s reaction to it. Everyone had their palms pressed together with their heads bowed in adulation to what Becca could only guess was a small furry demon.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
When Joseph escorted Peter up the elevator, his heart rate climbed with every floor. They had spent a couple of hours on a private jet and arrived in New York City. Peter would have normally enjoyed the flight, but threat of his possible death had dampened the trip. After driving through the city, he had been amazed at the condition of the buildings. In the south, many of the large structures had fallen in decay. With the cities now controlled by magicians, every coven put different importance on city maintenance. But in New York, the buildings soared into the sky with lights and ads flashing everywhere.
Since New York City was Lazaro’s, he had the means and money to do with it what he wanted. Peter had to pop his ears several times on the way to the top floor. Stepping off the elevator, the elegance was nothing less than expected. Turning down the hall, he stopped at the large window. A miniature lighted world was alive down there—probably peons, in Lazaro’s eyes. And here the king sat upon his throne.
“Don’t linger.” Joseph nudged Peter with magic.
“Okay.” He lifted a hand. “No need to push.”
Joseph rolled his eyes and opened the door. “There was a need.”
Lazaro lounged on a white velvet oversized couch, two women on each side. Surprisingly, he was a small man, pale skin, his brown hair streaked with white. A neatly trimmed mustache and goatee was paired with black frames. Obviously, he’d never need glasses, so it must be some kind of fashion statement, just like the black silk robe he wore. Was he wearing pajamas?
“You must be Peter. Welcome.”
H
esitant, he stepped forward. He was prepared for threatening, powerful, and expected an ego as large as this building. Not this man, who looked like a spoiled rich kid. He didn’t think Lazaro was an illusionist, but one may work for him. But with magic, nothing was ever quite what it seemed.
“Don’t be nervous. Did Joseph treat you well?”
“Yes… yes, sir.”
Joseph stepped forward. “Will there be anything else, Lazaro?”
“No, no.” He waved him off. “I’ll call you this afternoon.”
“Have a good day, sir.” Joseph left the room.
“Please, sit,” Lazaro told Peter, then turned to the blonde on his arm. “Cherry, please go entertain our guest.”
Sitting on a white velvet chair, Peter shifted uncomfortably. “I’m fine, sir.”
Both Lazaro and the girl ignored his comment. The curvy blonde, wearing nothing more than a slip, sat next to him, draping her legs over him. She started playing with his hair, a distraction more than anything. Drop him in a den with the most dangerous creature alive and use a pretty girl to distract him. Did Lazaro really think so little of him?
“Please.” He grabbed the girl’s petite hands and placed them back in her lap. Turning, back to Lazaro, he steadied his resolve. “How can I help you, sir?”
“It’s about the battle.” The magician, unlike Peter enjoyed the company of the girl next to him, playing with her hands like some teenage lover.
“I was one of many there, sir. I evacuated once Ryma died, knowing that we would need others to tell the tale.”
“Yet you took so long to come find me.”
“Once I learned that I was one of many survivors, I realized you had the needed information.”
“True.” The man’s gaze rested outside his windows. “But I’d like to hear your story.”
Peter realized the figures setting on his balcony edge were demons. Large flying demons. Each taking their turn to stretch their wings. So many demons and not even in pentagrams. How did he manage that?
Dark Rising Trilogy Page 59