Bonds and Broken Dreams (Amplifier 2)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  Lani was staring at me, utterly terrified. “What are you saying? That … that Christopher is in that … that … whatever that is?” She pointed at the swamp.

  I nodded. “And Paisley. And Jenni, and a young girl named Opal. We have to find them.”

  “We?”

  “You, Lani. I need you to find them like you found me.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t even know … I mean, I don’t know why I came here in the first place … I just get feelings …” She held up her hands, looking at them almost distrustfully, whispering, “I feel even weirder now …”

  I stepped toward her, breathing deeply to calm myself. I’d done that to her, made her feel ‘weird,’ by amplifying her magic. And I was going to need to do it again. “I know, Lani. But you … you trust me, right?”

  She nodded, then articulated the thought. “Yes. Emma, I trust you.”

  “Okay.” I stepped around her, then reached up from behind, pressing my hands to her face. I directed her gaze to where I thought the house had once stood, where the remnants of the dimensional pocket still remained. It had the look of a mundane swamp — but one composed of leftover, spent magic not of our dimension. Most likely mixed with demon remains.

  Lani’s emotions filtered through the empathic connection I’d forged by touching her. She was concerned, anxious. But focused, resolved.

  “It’s a dream, Lani,” I whispered, lying. “All of this.”

  “It’s not a dream, Emma!” Lani snapped.

  “It’s a dream.” I voiced the lie a second time, trying to make myself believe it. “And in this dream, magic is real.”

  Lani’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t protest further.

  “Magic is real,” I said, firming my resolve. “And you wield it.”

  She opened her mouth.

  I hesitated, desperate to continue but not wanting to hurt her, to push her too far, too quickly.

  Lani closed her mouth. Then she tipped her chin in a slight nod.

  “You know things,” I whispered. “You know when things need to be fixed. And then you can fix them.”

  “With my magic,” she said, though doubtfully. The emotion filtered clearly through our empathic connection.

  “In the dream. In this dream …”

  She sighed.

  I pressed forward, my fear for Christopher and Paisley, Opal and Jenni, overriding my concern about hurting Lani. “Witch magic, like you wield, comes from intention in its most basic form.”

  A deeper level of concern, then what felt like a resolute denial filtered through our connection. “Emma —”

  “Lani, please.” I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to modulate my tone. And failing. “Christopher and Paisley are strong. They might survive … whatever the hell is going on. But Jenni and Opal won’t. Their magic isn’t strong enough.”

  “Magic is real.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wield it.”

  “Yes … and I’m going to help.”

  “Okay.”

  A fissure of pain cracked open in my chest at her acceptance, at her willingness. I gasped, breathless for a moment. Then I swallowed the pain, smothering it under a layer of logic. This was the only option available.

  I carefully reached for Lani’s buried magic, gently coaxing it forward, and giving it just a kiss of my power.

  “Find Christopher,” I murmured. “If we can find him, then he can help us find the others.” I swirled my magic through Lani’s lightly, delicately, not wanting to push her too hard, too fast. “Where’s Christopher, Lani?”

  She slowly raised her arm and pointed.

  I let go of her, lunging forward.

  “Emma, no!” She grabbed for me, partly tearing what was left of the sleeve from the suit jacket. I inadvertently dragged her along to the edge of the swamp. “Don’t step in there!”

  She gestured to a pile of boards that she must have dragged over and laid on the swamp when she’d found me.

  I dove for the boards, and Lani helped place them down, anchoring one end in the snow-covered yard, then overlapping the boards until they spanned about four meters of the swamp.

  “There,” Lani murmured, pointing.

  I kneeled at the end of the boards. They sank under my weight.

  Lani hissed, concerned. Then she carefully stretched out, face down behind me, holding my ankles.

  I closed my eyes, thrusting my arms into the viscous, reeking mire, reaching for Christopher’s magic, recalling the feeling of it tingling under my skin. “Christopher,” I whispered, leaning farther and farther forward, until my nose was touching the swamp and the miasma emanating from it caused my eyes to water. I dug down deeply, until only my abdominal muscles and Lani’s hands on my ankles kept me from tipping over. “Knox …”

  Magic shifted on my spine. My fingers brushed against something solid. Then hands were grasping my arms, yanking me down.

  Lani cried out.

  I pulled back, hauling Christopher to the surface. He fell against me, then Lani reached over and around me. Together, we dragged him across the boards and into the snow.

  He was slicked in blackened ooze from head to toe. Not breathing.

  Lani rolled him over onto his side, slamming the heel of her hand against his lower ribs.

  He choked, coughed. Gasping for air, then throwing up what appeared to be liters of thick liquid darkness. Crouched beside him, I tried to wipe his eyes and face clear with my hands. He threw up again, all over my chest and thighs.

  “I’ve got more rags,” Lani said, gaining her feet and running back through the snow toward her pickup truck, eight strides away.

  I hadn’t looked behind us. I could actually see the fence line and the road. It was covered in snow. As was what I thought might have been Aiden’s SUV.

  Aiden.

  Pain slashed through my chest. I gasped.

  Christopher opened his eyes, then blinked up at me, grasping my arms.

  I forced myself to focus on him.

  “Socks.”

  “I’ve got you, Knox.”

  He laughed quietly. “I know.”

  “I need you on your feet. I … I used Lani to find you, but the others are still missing.”

  Christopher rolled to his knees with a groan. I helped him onto his feet. Lani came running through the snow, carrying an armful of what appeared to be old towels. Her eyes were wide, pupils practically blown out.

  Christopher took a towel from her, wiping his face. “Thank you, Lani.” He glanced over at me questioningly. It was an easy guess that he could feel the boosted tenor of Lani’s previously dormant magic.

  I nodded.

  He grimaced, half-heartedly wiping off his torso and revealing the runes still etched across every section of his bare skin. He started toward the swamp, unsteady on his feet. I hovered my hand under his elbow.

  “This is probably the wrong time to mention it,” Lani said. “But you know you’re both practically naked. That must have been some … party.”

  Christopher snorted. “You know sorcerers. You can’t hang out with them for long before the blood magic gets splashed about and demons come calling.”

  Lani glanced at me, disconcerted.

  “I’m going to need a boost, Socks,” Knox murmured.

  I laid my hand on his upper spine, my palm pressing against the blood tattoo that bound him to me and my magic. Then I fed him some of my power.

  Before the magic had even fully welled up, he pointed, slightly to the left of where the boards were currently laid. “Paisley. But not as far out.”

  Lani and I scrambled forward, repositioning the boards. Christopher collected a few more from the surrounding area, which made me realize that the wood must have been siding torn from the barn or the house when the dimensional pocket collapsed.

  I crawled out along the boards, reaching into the swamp for Paisley. The moment my fingers broke the surface tension, a huge body surged out of the black quagmire.
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br />   Lani stifled a scream.

  In what appeared to be her full half-demon form — red eyes, tentacles, and a body the size of a lion — Paisley slammed her paws onto my lap. Slicked in darkness and reeking of demon blood, she was holding a small body captured within her tentacles.

  Opal.

  “Jesus Christ!” Lani cried, still clinging to my ankles.

  I pulled the young witch from Paisley’s grasp, instantly feeling her magic and knowing we’d gotten to her in time. Though that was likely only because Paisley had shielded her.

  “Lani,” Christopher said sharply from our right. “I need you to pull Jenni out.”

  Lani scrambled back into the snow that edged the swamp, running over to the clairvoyant, following his instructions without question. Paisley heaved forward, pulling herself through the deep mire to shore, grumbling and growling.

  And I carried Opal from the edge of death for the third time in our short acquaintance. Three near-death experiences that she’d endured because of me. Because of what others would do to get their hands on my power.

  I started to lay the unconscious witch in the snow, but realized that she was already breathing. So I held her instead, wiping her face as clean as possible with one of Lani’s towels while I watched her and Christopher pull Jenni Raymond free.

  The clairvoyant left Lani to tend to Jenni, crossing over to me. Paisley reverted to her pit bull aspect, then rolled around in the snow, cleaning herself. We would all need to do the same before we climbed into Lani’s pickup truck.

  Or … Aiden’s SUV …

  Another wave of grief threatened to overwhelm me. I sank down into the snow to endure it, still carefully clutching the young witch.

  Christopher crouched before me, gazing down at Opal sleeping in my arms. “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered. “I couldn’t feel your magic. Or see your future.” He nodded toward the swamp. “But Aiden knew what we were dealing with.”

  “A family spell. The dimensional pocket.”

  He nodded. “Though he’d never seen it on that scale. And it took too damn long to figure out the combination of blood and runes needed to cross through.” He bowed his head for a moment, then swallowed harshly. “The teleportation spell …”

  I closed my eyes, grief threatening to smother me. “I know.”

  “He might have survived it.”

  “You don’t see him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “It had to be short range, right? Somehow triggered by depleting Isa’s magic. Like a fail-safe.”

  Christopher tilted his head thoughtfully, but his magic remained dormant. “That makes sense.”

  “But why take Aiden with him?”

  “Brotherly concern?”

  “Please.”

  “Think about it. Faced with the pocket collapsing, with only a second to choose, Isa decides that risking carrying Aiden with him is worth it.”

  “He might have killed them both.”

  “Maybe.” Christopher touched my cheek lightly. “Or it’s another family spell and capable of transporting two. Let’s get back to the house. The cards will help focus me.”

  I nodded.

  “You,” Jenni Raymond snarled.

  I glanced over Christopher’s shoulder as he twisted to look to the shifter. She’d made it partly upright, crouched near Lani, who was trying to drape some sort of silver blanket over her shoulders.

  “You …” Jenni choked, coughing.

  Lani helpfully pounded her on the back. The shifter spat a huge gob of black ooze into the snow.

  Jenni settled her fierce gaze on me again. “You will be the death of me.” She shifted her gaze to Christopher, then back to me. “Both of you.”

  “Probably,” I said, ignoring how her words chilled me through and through. Though I was sitting half-naked in snow, so I could blame my reaction on that.

  Christopher shrugged belligerently, then reached to take Opal from me. I almost protested — except I really wasn’t supposed to hang on to people, to touch people, without their permission. I’d done enough of that today already. Or maybe that was yesterday.

  I raised my face to the sky. Light-gray clouds covered the valley. It had started to snow, or maybe it hadn’t stopped. Large flakes flitted down to land on my cheeks and forehead. My skin felt hot, as if having to hold all the emotion at bay, all the fear, was burning me up inside. Either that or I was having a reaction to the buckets of demon swamp I’d swallowed.

  That was an easier-to-absorb assessment of the situation.

  Christopher carried the still-sleeping Opal to the pickup truck, pausing while Lani wrapped her in more towels. Together, they settled her in the center seat.

  “Seriously,” Lani said. “Why the hell are you all naked?”

  No one answered her.

  I crossed toward Jenni, who was wrapped only in the silver blanket and shivering violently. “Climb in with Opal please,” I said.

  “I can sit in the back,” she spat.

  I just looked at her steadily.

  She avoided my gaze, pivoting with a growl and brushing past Christopher to climb into the passenger seat of the pickup. The clairvoyant shut the door after she’d belted herself in.

  Paisley leaped into the back of the truck.

  I glanced around the property. It wasn’t exactly devastated — not all torn up like the surrounding area had been the last time I’d implemented the amplifier protocol. But with the addition of the pristine snow, it looked as though it had been stripped bare of human activity.

  “We’re going to need witches,” I murmured.

  Christopher sighed. “Yes.”

  “I’ll email Ember Pine.”

  Jenni rapped her knuckles on the window, yelling, muffled through the glass, “I’m going to need to get back here with barrier tape and some kind of fucking excuse.”

  Christopher eyed her for a moment. She narrowed her gaze at him, then glanced away.

  Whatever had been between them had been damaged by the events of the last few days. And if Aiden was alive, then the same might be true —

  A terrible yawning pit of grief opened up in my chest.

  Christopher threaded his fingers through mine, tugging me to the back of the truck where Lani was waiting for us. He touched her shoulder lightly. “Thank you, Lani. Emma will want to stay with Opal, but I’ll drive the SUV back.” He nodded toward the road.

  I didn’t follow his gaze.

  Lani nodded, looking to me.

  I met her eyes as steadily as I could while climbing into the bed of the truck. My emotions were churning, getting away from me.

  “Are we going to talk later, then?” she asked quietly.

  “If you wish, but … you can also forget if you want.”

  “Forget?”

  “It will take a few days to arrange. But yes, you can —”

  “No.” She firmed her tone, repeating, “No. No, Emma. I’m not going to hide from … this … whatever this is.”

  “Okay.”

  She stepped back and I shifted into the bed of the truck. Lani closed the tailgate. I touched the back of her hand. “Thank you, my friend.”

  She nodded stiffly, pulling her hand away and crossing to the driver’s-side door.

  Something broke inside me, then. Tears welled in my eyes. Paisley wound her tentacles around my arms and tugged me against her. The SUV instantly abandoned, Christopher leaped over the back of the truck, grabbing and tucking an extra towel around my legs. It covered only my thighs and my knees.

  I leaned my head against Paisley’s chest. Lani started the truck, cranked the wheel into a U-turn, then slowly drove back over the tracks she’d cut through the snow on her way onto the property. She paused at the road, presumably so Christopher could climb out and retrieve the SUV.

  I met the clairvoyant’s light-gray gaze.

  He was watching me, tenderly. “You know if he has any control over surviving, he’ll do so. Just to get back to you.”


  I didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know how to process what I was feeling. Paisley tightened her hold on me.

  “I lost my fucking blades,” I finally said.

  Then I burst into tears.

  I was pacing, back and forth, back and forth, beside the kitchen island.

  “Not helping, Socks,” Christopher muttered. The clairvoyant was perched on one of the kitchen stools, bent over the oracle cards spread across the speckled quartz counter.

  I had amplified him twice since we’d returned home from the Grant farm.

  He still hadn’t gotten a glimpse of Aiden.

  “It had to be short range,” I said, going over the same details we’d been discussing for the last two hours, between showering and getting Opal tucked into my bed.

  “Yes.”

  Jenni Raymond had already kicked into duty mode. She would handle roping off the site and building a cover story. A fatal house fire was our best bet — if we couldn’t get witches into town quickly enough. Thankfully, the snowstorm had returned with renewed vigor, so no one was likely to be wandering over to the Grant place anytime soon.

  “It had to be anchored somewhere.”

  “Yes.”

  “An anchor Isa would have to renew, maybe even daily?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not at the hotel.” We had already called Lake Cowichan Lodge and run the risk of asking someone to look in on Isa’s and Ruwa’s rooms — but the sorcerers had checked out the previous day.

  “Not the hotel,” Christopher muttered darkly. Then he gathered the cards and shuffled them again.

  “And it couldn’t have been anywhere on the Grant property, right?”

  “Emma,” Christopher said, “we would have felt the sorcerer if he was near. And Isa wouldn’t have used any area already in the dimensional pocket. We’ve been over this.”

  “We’re missing something. Some … resource, some option. We should get Jenni to track him.”

  Christopher sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He had expended a hell of a lot of magic, been drained by me, practically drowned in the swamp, then been amplified three times in a row. “You’d have to teach her how to track from a distance, because there’s no starting point. And if it could be done, Paisley would have done it by now.”