“I miss you,” I said aloud, bringing my phone up to look at one of the pictures he’d given me on my eighteenth birthday.
It was of him when we were younger, giving me a piggyback ride. My arms were banded around his neck and we grinned with utter happiness. It had been a day of innocent fun shortly before I had moved to Philadelphia.
I stared at the picture, then turned to another. Ian and I together. One of us dancing. One of us laughing. One of him standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, his chin on the top of my head.
My eyes narrowed as I looked at the picture. It had been from an afternoon the month before, when Imogen, Spencer, Ian, and I had gone to the park for a concert. In the picture, a figure stood next to me.
It wasn’t ghostly, though neither was it human. It was simply otherworldly in some way. All I could tell was that it was a man. No feature could be seen, not the color of his hair or the tone of his skin.
I sat up, scanning through all the pictures on my phone. The figure was in a dozen or more of them. How had I never noticed him before?
“Because I did not allow you to see,” a voice said from the doorway.
I should have been shocked or scared. I wasn’t. It was like I had been waiting for him.
I slowly turned my eyes to look at him and it was like I had known him my entire life. He had wavy, dark hair and flawless white skin with a silvery undertone. Otherworldly didn’t even cover it. He was heavenly.
I kept my eyes fixed on him, raising my phone to scan him with Quinn’s app.
He shook his head. “I will tell you what I am permitted to,” he said and raised his hand.
As he did, it was like the desire to figure out who and what he was departed from my mind, leaving only the need to listen to whatever he had to say.
He stepped further into the room, giving me a patient smile. “I am Erramun,” he said, shaking his head as I began to speak. “Madison, you need to be careful. You are on a dangerous road. One misstep will send not just you but the world into chaos. You need to use the intelligence you were given and not allow your emotions to rule you.”
I blinked, some of my awe fading back. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice a little shaky with the emotions he had warned me about.
“I mean that you are at a crossroads. Down one path, there is safety. Down the other is despair. I am not permitted to tell you which path to take. All I can do is protect you.”
It was like he’d thrown a bucket of icy water over my head. A guardian angel. It’s what he was. A guardian angel stood in front of me, telling me to be careful. Holy 404.
Slowly, I stood up. “Do you know how to get into the PSA?” I asked him, hoping there would be an angelic back door to the place.
Erramun pursed his lips. “Madison, my duty is to protect you. I am not permitted to offer you advice on what path to take.”
“I’m not asking for advice. I’m asking if you know how to get into the PSA.”
“I know that when you find a way in, I will go with you. I will do all I can to protect you.”
My shoulders slumped. “Is there anyone who CAN advise me?” I asked, my voice weak.
Erramun gave me another patient smile. “Madison, you were given the kind of intelligence few have ever held. You only need to have faith and allow your mind to process the things you have already taken in,” he said, his brows raised high like he was trying to tell me something.
Things I’d already taken in? What had I taken in that I hadn’t gone over hundreds of times? What had I missed?
He turned to leave, his patient smile still in place. “You are not alone, Madison. Isolating yourself will only cause you pain.”
“I thought you couldn’t advise me,” I said, feeling peace rise inside me as I thought about what he’d said.
Erramun glanced back at me and winked. “Consider it a freebie,” he said and all of a sudden, he just wasn’t there anymore.
I stood there and stared at the place where he’d been, wondering if it was possible I had dreamed it all. Something told me it had been real. Something else told me he had given me a clue that might help me figure out the whole situation.
He’d said I already knew. Something I did know without question was that the Chinese restaurant in Dormont was the location of the portal to the PSA. I also knew Patrick might be on my side. What else did I know?
Bhesaj. He was the shaman who had helped Sam. Maybe that was the answer.
I snagged my phone off the bed and tapped out a text to Sam. Heard from shaman? I asked, allowing hope to fill me up.
After a few seconds, my phone beeped. Give me a minute, she responded.
I turned in a slow circle, looking around Ian’s room. He had barely been there at all. It still felt like him. It even smelled like him. Things were all in their proper places . . . everything other than the top drawer of his desk. It was slightly open.
That was wrong. It wasn’t the way Ian would have left things. Did it mean someone had broken into his house, searched his bedroom?
I stepped over and pulled the drawer open. It was where he kept his laptop. It wasn’t there. What did it mean? I had gone by the day before and the laptop had been right there in its usual place.
My heart pounded. I did my best not to freak out. I pulled out more of the drawers. The laptop was the only thing that wasn’t in its usual place.
My phone beeped. It took me a minute to remember that I was waiting for a text from Sam. Could the PSA have taken his laptop to get into the system at the office?
It was useless for them. I had changed the passwords. I had almost talked Erkens into letting me set up a fingerprint scanner to allow only us into the system. He had been dragging his feet about the decision and I hadn’t wanted to change it without his okay.
So why was Ian’s laptop gone? He wasn’t a computer guy. He was a mechanic, a very good one. He only had the laptop from school and because of me.
I let out a groan and plunked myself down into his desk chair. The anger that had been my go-to for the last couple of days had changed to worry again.
If Sam had contacted Bhesaj, I might be able to get Ian and Quinn away from the PSA. It was what I needed to focus on.
It was a relief when I brought up Sam’s text and found it was an address. Looked like the shaman was indeed in town. It was time to get to work.
I jumped up and ran out the door, almost plowing into Anton as he walked in. I gave him a harried wave and ran off, not even bothering to stop and talk.
I got into my car and took off, driving far faster than was wise. I didn’t care. I had a guardian angel watching over me. Why would speeding be a problem?
I knew I was being stupid. My mind was too focused on the possibility of being able to free Quinn and Ian to care. Getting them back was more important than some stupid speeding ticket.
The address Sam had sent me was to one of the nicest hotels in the city. It was a stone’s throw from the Allegheny, directly next to Riverfront Park. I had never been inside the place, never even imagined going inside it.
Driving into the city during rush hour wasn’t bad at all. Everybody else was leaving, so the roads in were pretty much free and clear. It would be miserable on the way out. That wasn’t the point right then.
I got out of the car quickly, slinging the strap of my bag across my body. I didn’t know what I was walking into. What There was a chance Bhesaj would be able to help me free the people I loved. It was enough.
TEN
Walking into the hotel would have been intimidating under normal circumstances. It was a little like walking into a castle. The classic, romanesque feel of the place was probably meant to give a feeling of grandeur. I suppose it did. I was too focused to care, though.
I marched up to the front desk, ready to shove my foot up someone’s butt to get what I’d come for.
“Miss Meyer?” a woman asked before I got to the desk.
I turned, finding a woman in her mid-twent
ies giving me a look that could only qualify as calculating. I folded my arms and waited, a little disconcerted that she knew both my name and face.
The woman motioned to the elevators. “Please follow me,” she said, turning to walk away before I could respond.
I followed along like an obedient dog, my mind filled by questions and mysteries. Bhesaj was a shaman, an intermediary between the paranormal and human worlds. He had helped Sam. Did that make him a good man?
I had no idea and it made nervousness rise inside me. Gabe’s reaction when Sam had told him about her meeting with the shaman spoke volumes. So did Erkens’ notes on them. They COULD be good although it was best to be careful in dealing with them.
The thing was, I didn’t care. I would do anything to break the contract Ian and Quinn had both signed. I would put myself in their place. Anything. They had to be safe.
My heart had lodged itself in my throat by the time the woman and I stopped in front of one of the river view rooms. What if Bhesaj refused to help me? What would I do?
I knew what I would do, though. I would take every weapon from the office and run a full blown assault on the PSA. I truly would burn the place to the ground.
The woman slid a key-card through the reader and opened the door for me, walking away without a backward glance. It made me even more uncomfortable. Why did I have to meet with the guy alone?
I wrapped my hand around one of the cans of demon mace in my bag and stepped carefully into the room. It was a beautiful place. The windows were very large and did indeed look out onto the river.
There was a couch, a table, a TV, and a king sized bed all visible from the door. There was nothing cramped about the room despite the fact it wasn’t terribly big. The gigantic windows gave it an airy quality, making the space feel far larger than it was.
I took a small step further in, stopping when I saw the guy. He was around Erkens’ age with several chins and a belly that would have made Santa Claus proud. He wore a three piece suit straining to hold in all his layers.
He didn’t look at me, his eyes fixed on something obscured from my view by a wall. I stepped further in and my mouth fell open.
A man stood there. A man I knew. Dark blond hair. Caribbean blue eyes. Tall. Strapping. Ian Gregory stood next to the wall, his eyes as wide as mine were as he saw me.
I couldn’t breathe. He was there. He was safe. How, though? I had thought . . . but his laptop had been missing. He had taken it. He wasn’t a prisoner at all.
Ian had signed the contract. He was working for the PSA. God help us. They must have brainwashed him or something.
My breaths whooshed out in short, shallow gasps as I stared at him. I had missed him so much and there he was. I wanted to run to him, to fling my arms around him and weep.
My legs wouldn’t move. I was frozen in place. He looked different. His face was harder, his mouth set in a tight line. He didn’t look happy to see me at all.
“What are you doing here?” he growled and in a finger snap, I was alert.
Bhesaj was a shaman. Ian was a medium. He must have come to talk to Bhesaj, to get his help in speaking with the dead. And Ian being Ian, he would have stayed as far as he could get from me, thinking he was protecting me.
My eyes filled with tears. I blinked them away, turning to face Bhesaj. “Sir, I’m Madison Meyer, Sam’s friend,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn as my heart rate spiked.
Before Bhesaj could say anything, Ian was across the room. He grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the door, his expression so ferocious, it almost frightened me. Or it would have under normal circumstances.
Right then, it pissed me off. I twisted my arm free and planted my feet, determined not to be pushed around.
Ian bared his teeth at me and took a step closer. “Get out, Madison. This is dangerous. I will not let you--”
“Let me?” I cut in, not even caring that we argued in front of a stranger.
Ian stepped closer again until he loomed over me yet the look in his eyes made some of my anger ease back. There was a mix of fear, anguish, worry, rage, and love written all over his perfect face. He was the love of my life and he was safe. It had to count for something.
I raised my hands as he opened his mouth to speak, turning back to face Bhesaj. “I’ve come to see if you know how to break a magical contract binding my boyfriend--” I waved a hand at Ian, “--and my sister. I have money but Sam told me money isn’t generally what you ask for.”
He considered both of us for a few long moments. “Samara is correct. I don’t usually ask for money.” He tapped a finger to his bottom lip. “I have heard of you, Miss Meyer. Your reputation is becoming legendary.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just waited.
Ian let out a groan. “I was trying to keep you out of this, Maddie,” he said, smoothing his thumb and forefinger over his brows wearily.
I shot him an incredulous look. “Three weeks ago, my boyfriend, my sister, my boss, and one of my best friends went missing. Do you really expect me to sit in the office where it’s safe and do nothing to get you away from those psychopaths?”
Bhesaj cleared his throat. “It seems you two have a good deal to discuss.” He lumbered his way to his feet, breathing heavily by the time he was standing. “Hestia is the goddess of the hearth and of family. Her fire is pure, as she is.” He walked toward the closet, his steps slow and pained. “I have only a small favor to ask in return.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean? You’re giving me the fire of Hestia?” I asked, baffled by the whole situation.
“No,” he corrected, opening the safe and taking out a glass vial that looked like it held ash. “Hestia’s fire is pure, as I said. The magic she possesses remains present after her fire has gone out.” He looked at Ian, his lips slightly parted. “The contract, was it written on paper?”
Ian gave a slow nod.
Bhesaj looked back at me. “You must take the contracts, sprinkle this ash on them, and then burn them. Hestia’s purity will unbind the magic that holds the signatory to the company.”
My hands twitched, wanting to grab the vial so much, it hurt. “And what’s the favor you want in return for this?” I asked, suspicious for the simple fact he’d said it was small.
He moved slowly back toward the couch and sat down, breathing heavily yet again. “You have a portal generator, is that correct?” he asked, reaching for a glass on the side table next to him.
“I do,” I said, my body tight, on alert.
He took a slow sip from his drink and sighed. “I simply want a door to be opened.”
“To where?” I demanded, my eyes fixed on the vial in his hand.
“Does it matter?” he questioned, the glass halfway to his lips as he peered at me.
I folded my arms to keep me from grabbing for the thing. “It does, actually,” I said even though it wasn’t true.
It was clear by the look on his face that he knew as well as I did, I would do anything he asked to get the vial. A cold feeling niggled at the back of my mind. I ignored it. I was so close to being able to free Quinn and Ian but also Patrick and all the others the PSA had bound.
He took another slow sip from his glass, savoring the flavor before he swallowed. “I would like to open a portal to hell,” he said, holding the vial in a way that both of us could see the ash inside it. “Will you open the portal?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you want--”
“No. She’s not doing it,” Ian cut in, stepping between us. “I’ll do it.”
I rolled my eyes. He didn’t even know how to use the portal generator. How did he expect to be able to open one?
Bhesaj closed his hand around the vial and shook his head. “My deal is with Madison, not you. You have learned all I can teach you on how to communicate with the dead. Our lessons are over,” he said in a commanding tone.
Ian planted his feet and folded his arms. “I’m not--”
“Hey,” I snapped, seeing the
light of battle in Ian’s eyes. If I didn’t step in, he’d ruin any chance of getting the vial.
Ian glanced back at me, his brow wrinkled as his shoulders slumped. “They’ll kill you if I don’t come back, Maddie. I have to keep you safe.”
And my heart tore itself into two jagged pieces. Tears rose in my eyes. I stepped forward so we were side by side and offered my hand. The lump in my throat made it impossible to articulate the words running through my mind.
It looked like he understood me, though. He slowly laid his hand over mine, giving it a light squeeze. Together. It was spoken between us as though we had said the word aloud.
I cleared my throat, looking back at Bhesaj. “Why do you want a portal to hell opened?” I asked, my voice thick with emotion.
He tinkled the ice in his glass, his eyes fixed on it as it moved. “Someone I care for was sent to the hell world. I want them back.”
“Why were they sent to hell?” I squeaked, my fingers trembling in Ian’s grip.
He scowled. “Because Hades is cruel,” he snapped, setting the cup down with so much force, a little of the liquid splashed onto the table. “Do we have a deal or no?”
I looked at Ian as he glanced at me. I could see the same indecision in his eyes that was in my own mind. After a few seconds, I nodded. “We have a deal.”
He sat back on the couch and motioned to the wall in front of him where Ian had been standing a minute before. “As soon as the portal is open, you may have the fire of Hestia,” he said slowly, his voice deeper than it was before.
I pulled my hand from Ian’s and took the tablet from my bag. I entered the password and opened the app, swallowing hard as I entered the location. My mouth went dry as a feeling of dizziness washed over me.
I glanced at Ian and all doubt left my mind. They had told him they would kill me if he didn’t sign the contract. I would not allow him to be held down like that.
I took in a slow gulp of air and hit the button to open the portal. The smell of rotten eggs, sewer gas, and match heads filled the air followed closely by sulfur and fire. It was a mix of smells that made me want to run and hide.
The Fire of Hestia Page 5