by AR Colbert
“I haven’t seen any pen.” The kitchen light reflected off the sheen across the housekeeper’s forehead as she stormed past us on her way to the other side of the apartment. Dom half smirked and gave a subtle nod to let me know she got what she needed.
“Well, maybe I was wrong. I must have left it somewhere else. Thanks anyway, Abby. Take care of yourself.” I smiled and turned back to the door.
“Uh, you too.” The girl looked completely bewildered as she led us back out into the hall. “Good luck finding it.” She closed the door and I immediately turned to Dom.
“Get anything good?”
She grinned. “You were right about everything. Well, almost everything. But the housekeeper is the accomplice. Your Mr. Smiley is the fractured one. And I know just how we can get this sucker and make him pay.”
CHAPTER 13
Sean abandoned all efforts to converse with me about midway through the day. I couldn’t focus on a word he said. I was too busy obsessively checking my phone to see if a text had come through from the girls.
Dom said the housekeeper planned to meet up with Mr. Smiley after work. Gayla was grabbing Tate while Dom kept watch on the apartment building all day. As soon as she saw the housekeeper leave, she was going to text me to meet up with them. Then we’d confront her and her smiley lover-boy in the alley, where my hot hunter, Tate, could do his job.
Though I chose not to think too much about what that might entail. I wasn’t particularly excited about the whole soul extraction part of the plan. I just wanted to ensure Mr. Mason’s safety.
My pocket buzzed with a new message. “Eeep!”
Sean jerked his head in my direction at the squeak that slipped through my mouth. I quickly tried to regain my composure. Clearing my throat, I straightened my face the best that I could and said, “Hey, I’ve gotta go. Just got an SOS text from Dom.”
“What kind of SOS? Is she in danger?” He was already pulling off his apron.
“No, no. No danger.” I lifted both hands in front of me. “It’s just… uh… girl problems.”
Sean wrinkled his nose. “Enough said. But I still can’t let you go alone.”
“Go where?” Millie emerged from the back room with a cheerful grin.
“Dom’s having some feminine issues. She asked me to swing by.”
Millie’s brows lifted. “Oh, well you should definitely go then. It’s pretty slow here today. I’ll be fine on my own. But here…” She rustled with something under the counter before emerging with a small white paper gift sack. “Take her some dark chocolate and this lavender-sage salve. It’ll fix up 99% of those pesky lady cramps.”
Sean grimaced. “Okay, okay. Let’s go.”
He could barely keep up with me as I trotted along the sidewalk.
“Is it really this big of an emergency?”
“Totally. Keep up.”
We were about eight blocks away from the apothecary when he realized we weren’t headed to Dom’s apartment. “Hey, stop. Where are you taking me?”
“Hmm?” I played innocent and continued moving forward, pretending I didn’t hear him.
“Everly, come on. You’ve been a little off all day. Tell me what’s really going on here.”
“Fine. We’re catching the fractured soul that’s been poisoning Mr. Mason.” I grinned. He was going to find out soon enough, anyway.
“We’re what?! Uh-uh. That’s not our job. And you especially shouldn’t go near any fractured souls.”
“Why not? Are they contagious or something?” I picked up my pace, despite Sean’s objections.
“No, but if the excitement or fear of the capture somehow sets off your powers, you’re going to be surrounded by hunters. What do you think they’re going to do then?”
I paused. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “We won’t be surrounded by hunters. There’s only one—just Tate.”
“Thaddeus is the only one you need to fear. Good grief, Everly! Did you honestly not think this through at all? Come on.” He grabbed my arm. “We’re heading back.”
An owl fluttered down with an exaggerated flap of its wings and landed on a trash can beside us. It focused its deep yellow eyes on Sean, with a look that even he couldn’t ignore.
“You need to let go of my arm.” I glanced from him to my little owl friend, making my point clear.
The owl blinked once at Sean before he released me. “Fine,” he muttered. “But let the record show that I do not support this plan. Not at all.” He shot another uneasy glance at the bird.
“You’ll still protect me though, right? If anything goes wrong?”
“Of course I will. But then I’m gonna chew you out about it real good when we get you back to safety.”
I ruffled my hand through his auburn hair. “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”
The owl flew away and I checked my text once more. “We’re almost there. Dom just sent an update that they are meeting in an alley not much farther from here.”
“They who?”
“The fractured soul. Remember the smiley guy we helped a couple of times at the apothecary? The one who always bought black licorice?”
“Oh yeah, black licorice guy. You’re not telling me he’s the one poisoning Mr. Mason, are you?”
“Yep. He’s the bad guy. And get this—Abby’s housekeeper is helping him do it.”
I explained everything as we walked, right up until I saw the tall young woman standing against the wall up ahead.
Gayla was the opposite of inconspicuous. She wore black leather leggings and a long sleeved black turtleneck—in August. Her oversized sunglasses covered half of her face, but her long blond hair fell across her shoulders in almost silvery waves.
“Stealth.” I waggled my eyebrows and she flashed me a huge perfect Gayla grin.
“Thanks. I was going for a Mission Impossible vibe.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “So where are they?”
“Dom and the guys are around the corner, watching Mr. Smiley and the housekeeper. Osborne refused to take our word for it, so he wants to listen in on their conversation before he makes any moves.”
“Osborne is here?”
Gayla cringed. “I thought Dom told you.”
“Dom didn’t tell her, but I totally called it.” Sean gave me a stern look.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure my friends or myself. But fine or not, there was no turning around now. We slunk around the corner and spotted our small group of Keepers up ahead.
Osborne turned as we rounded the corner and pierced me with his pale golden eyes. Dom, sensing my fear, turned and frowned apologetically. I couldn’t let them get me worked up though. Not if the extreme stress might bring on any powers I could still potentially be harboring.
“How’s it going?” I looked only at Dom. Osborne was a creep and Tate had me all tingly without even making eye contact.
“The housekeeper is panicking. You really scared her earlier. She’s trying to get Smiley to act fast before you tell your aunt Millie.”
“Act fast on what?” I swallowed, hoping her response was anything other than what I suspected.
“Killing Mr. Mason so they can steal his new inheritance.” It was Osborne who answered, looking more lethal than ever.
Shoot.
“I guess it’s now or never, then.” I risked a quick glance at Tate. He nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-grin. But it quickly faded as Osborne began to speak. They may have been fellow hunters, but that did not mean they were on friendly terms. And part of me suspected I might have had something to do with this new animosity between the two of them. I would be flattered if they were fighting over anything other than who gets to kill me and take my soul first.
“You girls stay here while Tate and I go talk to them. We’ve got a station nearby—an abandoned loft over an old empty storefront. We can finish the job there.”
“What about me?” Sean asked. App
arently now that he was here he wanted to join in on the mission, after all.
“Finesse, right?” Osborne looked Sean up and down.
“That’s right.”
“Then it’s your job to catch them if they try to get away.”
“They won’t try to get away. Not with my glamour.” Tate smirked.
“I wasn’t referring to the suspects.” Osborne glowered at me.
“So you really think you can just go out there and convince them to follow you back to your station to kill them? Won’t they know you’re hunters?” I asked.
“We can be very convincing.” Tate winked at me. “Watch and learn.”
The two Agarthians sauntered down the alleyway. Smiley jerked his head up fast at the sight of them. His body tensed, prepared to sprint, but Osborne raised his hands.
“Slow down there,” Osborne said. His voice was smooth and calming. Smiley froze. “We’re just here to talk.”
The housekeeper was too busy ogling Tate to care much about what was happening between Osborne and her boyfriend. She looked like she’d just seen an angel, and she was welcoming him with open arms. Literally. The poor woman stepped forward trying to hug Tate. Sheesh. I hoped I didn’t look quite so desperate when he glamoured me.
I couldn’t hear the conversation after that. They were too far away.
“What’s going on?” I asked Dom.
She shrugged. “They’re too far for me to hear anything either.”
A few minutes passed, then the whole group of four began walking back toward us. Smiley wasn’t smiling anymore, but he obediently followed Osborne, never once pulling his gaze away from the back of the hunter’s head. And the housekeeper, bless her heart, looked like she’d just received a puppy on Christmas morning. She had a death grip on Tate’s hand. He winked at me as they approached.
He was having way too much fun messing with her emotions, and he wanted me to see how easy it was to manipulate her. Just like he could manipulate me. Jerk.
“Alright, thanks for the help,” Osborne said to Dom and Gayla. He ignored me, and it was the best thing he could have done. I didn’t need his gratitude or praise for my expert sleuthing. I just wanted him to forget I ever existed. “You all can go back now. We’ve got everything under control.”
“Wait,” I said. “What about the housekeeper?” She wasn’t fractured. She wasn’t very nice, but she certainly didn’t deserve to die.
“Me and Tate are moving back to Jersey, aren’t we babe?” She puckered her lips and glued herself to his arm. Gayla snorted, and Tate looked amused, but he was focused on me, not the housekeeper. Guess he still wasn’t comfortable enough to let his real prey out of sight.
“Who cares about her?” Osborne said gruffly. “Let’s go.” They pushed past us, and I stepped right into line behind them. Osborne paused, turning to glare at me. “I said you’re dismissed. Run along.” He shooed me away with his hand.
“No.” I straightened my shoulders. From the corner of my eye I saw Sean shake his head, embarrassed. “I want to see how this is done.”
Tate frowned. “I don’t think you do.”
I put up a hand. “Don’t try to glamour me out of this. I may be new to this world, but if you’re planning on doing the same thing to me that you’re going to do to Mr. Frowny here, I think I deserve to see how it works. Don’t I?”
I really wanted to make sure they weren’t going to hurt the housekeeper. But as much as I hated to admit it, there was a sick part of me that was curious about the process of soul extraction, too. First dark magic, now soul extraction. I was definitely playing in the darker part of the morally gray area I normally avoided.
“You don’t deserve anything,” Osborne spat. “But if you want to have nightmares, be my guest. It won’t change your future either way.”
Tate opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Dom quirked an eyebrow.
“Was there something else you wanted to say?” I was probably mouthing off a little too harshly, given the current circumstances, but who could blame me for feeling a little moody? I was about to watch the hunters kill a man the same way they intended to kill me.
“No.” Tate relaxed his features. “Follow us.”
CHAPTER 14
The loft containing the hunters’ “station” looked like every other abandoned warehouse where hostages were taken in every thriller movie ever. I half expected them to blindfold him and tie him to a chair in the middle of the empty space so they could kick him and fail to extract information. But that wasn’t necessary. Frowny was glamoured. He’d do anything Osborne asked of him.
And the housekeeper would probably do anything Tate asked even if he removed the glamour. She was a smitten kitten.
Sean and the girls accompanied me to the loft with the Agarthians. It was slightly less terrifying with them by my side, but frightening, nonetheless. Osborne slid into a rolling chair in front of a folding table containing a closed laptop. Frowny stood right in front of him, straightfaced and apathetically awaiting his impending demise.
A pleasant buzz spread from my shoulder down through my left arm, and I turned to see Tate approaching from the side. He leaned in close to whisper in my ear, his hand blooming warmth from where it lightly rested on my shoulder blade. “It’s not too late.”
“Not too late for what? To leave? I told you I want to see how this works.”
He left his hand on my back for a moment more without speaking. Then finally he muttered, “If you insist.” I shivered from the cold left behind when he pulled away. Part of me wished he’d come back, and maybe even hold onto me a little more. Whether it was all an illusion or not, his presence was a welcome comfort.
But I had to learn to be brave. I’d find my own strength.
The housekeeper stood on the opposite side of Tate. “Are you doing alright?” I asked her. I wasn’t sure how glamour worked, but it must have been strange for her on some level. At least, it seemed like it would be.
“Never better, sweetheart.” She grinned widely and looked longingly at Tate. That glamour was some strong stuff. Maybe I’d underestimated just how powerful Tate really was. I’d have to give Sean some extra thanks later for keeping me safe. I understood better now why he insisted on following me everywhere I went.
Osborne leaned forward onto his knees, giving Mr. Frowny a hard once over. “Just to confirm, I want you to tell me what you’ve been doing to Mr. Mason.”
“I’ve been creating a slow acting poison that Nikki has been putting into his coffee everyday.”
“Why?” Osborne seemed bored, like discovering plans for premeditated murder was a daily occurrence for him.
“Because we want to take his money.”
It was too easy to make him spill the truth with their glamour. Was there anything they couldn’t do with the power of persuasion?
“How?”
Nikki answered this time. “Mr. Mason is growing anxious as his illness worsens. He wants to make sure his daughter is well taken care of when he passes away. So we introduced him to a new investment scheme. He is going to place his entire inheritance into our business so it can grow for his daughter. But once he wires the money, we’ll finish him off and run.”
“And who taught you to use your magic to create the poisons?”
“Rasputin,” Frowny said. I liked him better when he was smiley. The glee over his evil plan made it easy for me to crave justice against him. But seeing him blank-faced with that slight frown and zero control over his own actions, I almost felt sorry for the man.
I glanced around to see what everyone else thought, and immediately felt afire when I locked eyes with Tate. How long had he been watching me? He was probably dreaming of the day he’d get to do this to me, too. Sadistic creep.
“Rasputin?!” The shock in Osborne’s words immediately drew my attention back to the situation at hand. “Impossible.” He looked to Sean. “Right?”
“As far as I know, yeah. Unless there’s someone else wi
th the same name.”
Osborne, now slightly paler, sat tall and cleared his throat. “Tell me more about Rasputin.”
“I don’t know him well,” Frowny began. “I followed my cousin to a big meeting in Philly last year. He knew I could do strange things with my body. Scars would fade. Wounds would heal overnight. Crazy powerful stuff. And he thought I might be able to meet some like minded people at this event. Rasputin was there. He drew a big crowd—a lively group of people dressed like witches and vampires from history. Rasputin’s costume was good. Real beard, solid Russian accent. He gave a lecture on poisons. Taught a couple of spells to enact them in ways modern medicine can’t. Undetectable, he said. He also taught us some spells to prevent the effects of poison on us. Real weird stuff, but it works. It worked for me, anyway. My cousin Larry couldn’t do anything with it.”
Sean and Osborne exchanged wary looks.
“Have you been in contact with him at all since the event?” Osborne asked.
Frowny shook his head.
“Do you have a card or anything with his contact information? Any way we could reach him?”
“No. I didn’t get a good feeling from the guy, so I didn’t ever plan to talk to him again.”
“Okay.” Osborne stood and pulled what looked like a small silver cigar box from his pocket. It couldn’t have been more than six inches long, with intricate designs carved into all four sides. The bottom was smooth, but the top had otherworldly letters set into the lid. They weren’t quite the same ancient letters from my tablet, but they definitely weren’t anything I’d ever seen before.
Osborne covered the lid with his palm, closed his eyes, and began murmuring something under his breath. Then a clean metal click sounded through the air, and I noticed two sharp needles protruding from the top edge of the box. They were thicker than the needles on standard syringes, and nearly twice as long.
He approached Frowny, who stood tall and unafraid. With the box in one hand, he placed his other palm against Frowny’s cheek. The man smiled again, his cheeks flushed. “It’s time to go,” Osborne said quietly.