Demon Accords 05.5: Executable (12 page)

“As strong as Declan?” Caeco asked.  I was frozen at the back of the room, listening to a story that I’ve only ever heard bits and pieces of.  Aunt Ash raised her eyes to mine as she answered the question.

“Caeco dear, a strong male witch is one of a level as a weak lady witch.  To my knowledge, there has never been a male of Declan’s strength.  Nor even a female, ‘cept his own mum.”

“Then how have you stayed hidden all these years?  I presume you and your sister ran and ended up here.  How is it that no one has tracked you down?” Dr. Jensen asked.

“That we did, Abigail.  Perun, the witch boy, and his brother Laban were brought to visit.  Laban was not a witch but of the same bloodline and therefore considered a possible match for myself.  They were older, nineteen and seventeen, and very handsome.  Charming, the both of them.  But it was a mask; underneath, their souls were as black as ink.  Maeve sensed it right away, while I was bemused by their comely looks.  She told Macha that she dinnae favor the match.  Macha was not to be thwarted.  See, in all likelihood, if the setup had worked, Maeve would have returned to the Continent with her new husband to lead the Circle in his village.  So Macha wasn’t having it.  She provided the boys with a drug, which they put in our drinks.  The plan was to get us both pregnant and force us into marriage.”

“But you woke up,” Caeco supplied, completely caught up in the story.

“Oh, someone’s been telling ya things, have they?” Aunt Ash asked with a look in my direction.  “But you’re right, dear.  I woke up.  Drugs and witches are iffy at best.  Some of us have a tolerance for these things.  So I woke up.  Laban was raping me, his brother on me sister.”

She took a breath and looked down at the tabletop, where her fingers encircled a cup of tea.  Her hands shook slightly, and I suddenly wanted to blow something up.  The light over the kitchen sink flicked out, causing her to look up—at me, not the light.  “Declan, dear, please mind the lights,” she said.  I took a slow breath, and the light came back on.

“Does that happen
every
time he’s upset?” Caeco asked, looking from the light to Aunt Ashling.

“Oh, it happens on occasion, it does.  But once, when he was just a lad of about twelve, he got really angry with a man who was calling me names.  We were in town, and half the village lost power that day.  But where was I?  Oh yes, the raping. 
I
got upset that day.  I’m a fair hand with Air, ya know and I was, ya might say, a wee bit motivated to get them off us.  I blew them through our cottage window.  Both were knocked unconscious. Did not know that at the time.  Was thinking that I’d killed both fecking gits, and glad for it.  I woke me sister, and we ran.  Found our way to here, much as you have, jest without the auto and cash and what-have-you.  And with a wee one on the way,” she finished, smiling at me as I piled fleece jackets and raincoats along with a pair of my sweatshirts in front of the other two women.

Caeco picked up a dark green Vermont sweatshirt and felt the thick cotton, but her expression was thoughtful, like she didn’t know she was even holding it.

“Would you have been upset had you killed them?” she asked my aunt. 
Thinking of her own near rape
, I realized.

“No, dear, and if I had, Declan’s mum might still be alive.  Rape is… I can’t describe the helplessness, the violation.  But it put me clean off men.  Didn’t trust a one of them, at least not till that one standing there made me realize they
weren’t
all alike.”

“Mom would still have died, Aunt Ash.  We don’t know who met her in Boston, but it was likely Macha or someone she hired,” I said.

“What happened?” Dr. Jensen asked.

“Years had gone by, and we had stayed hidden.  One thing the Craft is good for is hiding, and when practiced by a witch of the first power, it’s brilliant.  Centuries of avoiding the witch hunt has taught us lots of tricks for that.  But when me boy’o here was about six, we got this idea to try contacting the old Circle to see how things were, ya know.  The response was good: they wanted us to come home.  Maeve went to Boston to meet a representative from the Circle.  She never came back.  Her body was found in the harbor.  Made all the papers and the telly.  So me point is that I know what you’re going through, and that’s why we’ve wanted to help.  Now, Declan dear, grab the pantry money, would ya?”

I held up the biscuit box my aunt used to stash her emergency cash.  She laughed.

“We think alike, we do,” she said.  I handed her the box and reached into my back pocket for the envelope I’d grabbed from my own room.  “Put this with it, Aunt Ash,” I said.

She gave me a proud nod and pulled a wad of twenties and tens from the biscuit tin, laying them on top of the envelope, and pushed the whole thing in front of Dr. Johnson.

Caeco’s hand shot out, almost too fast to see, and grabbed the envelope.  “College fund?” she read.  “You’re giving us your college money?” she demanded, giving me a funny, unreadable look.

“I call it that, but most of my college fund is in the bank.  That’s money I got from doing computer and cell phone stuff at school, for kids and a couple of the staff.  Not much there, maybe nine hundred or so.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at the worn envelope in her hands. I didn’t tell her that my college money would only pay for a semester or two at best.  Didn’t seem important.

“We need to go, Caeco,” Dr. Jensen said.  “Thank you.  You’ve put yourselves in great danger for us, helped us when you didn’t have to.”

“As I said, Abigail, we know about running and hiding.  Speaking of which, could ya give the ladies some extra help, Declan?” she asked, tossing me a green Sharpie.

I started with Caeco’s mom, drawing
eolh
on the back of both her hands. It looked like a letter
Y
with an extra point going straight up like a three-tine fork.

“Eolh is the rune for protection,” Aunt Ash explained. 

“How can an ancient letter help protect us?” Dr. Jensen asked.

“Our Craft is about shaping and directing energies that modern science hasn’t yet truly found, although I think some of the work in theoretical physics is getting a mite closer.  There are energies and dimensions that we all feel and sense at some level but ignore because we can’t see or touch them.  We’re taught about our five senses, but anything else is fairytales.  A witch teaches her daughter or, sometimes, her son not to ignore that shiver you get from nowhere or the shadow you think you saw but convince yourself wasn’t there.  We train their minds to notice and, more importantly, manipulate this energy that Hollywood would call magic.  Some families use chanted language in the form of spells, others diagrams or, like us, runes.  We assign a meaning to each letter of the runic alphabet, and our belief and understanding of that meaning focuses energy upon it.  So when Declan writes Eolh on you,
he
believes that it will protect you, and his mind focuses and wraps you in power.  That power will tend to influence events around you.  The bad bloke seeking you may chance to look down or away at the most opportune moment and miss seeing you.  His radio or phone might drop a connection at the best time for you to get away.  It’s subtle.”

I picked up Caeco’s left hand in mine and again drew
eolh
on it.  My hand tingled where it touched her skin, and I could feel the presence of
something
below her skin.  It spoke to me, telling me her stomach was full, her health excellent, and her attention was focused on me, not my drawing, but me—my being.  Suddenly nervous, I picked up her right hand and drew
eoh
on on it.  If you took all the curves out of a letter
S
and made it from straight lines, that would be
eoh.

“Are you trying to sneak a feel of my nannites?” Caeco asked me with a sly look.  I felt my mouth drop open like a door with a broken latch.
Did she just flirt? She flirted!

Her mother gave her an odd look, but it was Aunt Ash who saved me because, to be honest, I was completely caught off guard.

“Hmm, interesting choice. 
Eoh
or yew.  The symbol of strength, it denotes defense.  A fine idea, Declan.”

“She’s a fighter Aunt Ash… a warrior.”

“I see.  Makes sense,” she said with a smirk that made me almost as nervous as Caeco’s comment had. 

Caeco studied the rune before looking up at me, her expression questioning.  “I am already strong,” she said.

“This will make your strikes and blows truer, even more focused.  We all have good days and bad days for our skills, times when we’re in
the zone
and times when we’re not.  You will be in the zone more of the time,” I told her.

“What if we don’t believe?” Dr. Jensen asked suddenly.

“
I
believe.  That’s what counts.  The abstract idea of luck or chance is what I influence with these symbols.  It’s subtle, like my aunt says.”

The older woman studied me for a moment, then straightened abruptly.  “We have to go, Caeco.”

Her daughter nodded and picked up the coats and sweatshirts.  At the entry, I held the door for them, but Dr. Jensen took two steps out and stopped dead.  Caeco’s reaction was faster; she skipped sideways, clearing six feet in a quick bound.  I turned fully into the doorway and spotted the reason for their reactions.  Outside, leaning against their Buick, was a tall, black man in a dark suit, his arms and ankles crossed, his eyebrows raised at Caeco’s speed, but with no other reaction.

“Dr. Jensen?  Caeco?  I’m Mike West, from Oracle.”

Following the tracker on the boy’s car was easy work.  In fact, the damn iPad even suggested turns and directions in a female voice like the GPS in his wife’s minivan.  It gave him lots of time to think about what he had learned from Machete, who was still wrapped tight in duct tape and awaiting the retrieval team that Mike had called in.

He was lucky that Machete was young and inexperienced in interrogation.  Despite his Juice-induced tolerance for pain, the AIR agent was ill-equipped for the mental chess that a trained interrogator could put him through.  Mike had excelled at that part of his training.

He had learned that the girl and her mother were being actively sought by AIR and that Machete had been under orders to observe her but had jumped the gun and attempted a capture.  The reason that the orders were for observation only were now clear: the girl was formidable, likely a product of AIR labs somewhere.  The boy who was helping her was still something of a mystery, but Mike’s intuition was screaming at him not to ignore the kid.

The results were multiple conversations with his superiors at Oracle and his current plan of action.

The soft, familiar female voice that spoke to so many iPhone users around the world led him to a small restaurant on the outskirts of town, partway up the side of the valley.  The place looked tidy and neat, with a respectable number of cars parked near the front, but no Toyota Land Cruiser in sight.  Driving around the back of the building, he found the Toyota as well as a Prius and a silver Buick Regal.  He studied the situation for a moment before parking his car and approaching the Buick.  A quick glance inside showed a car that looked like someone was either ready to live out of it or on a long distance trip with it.  Clothes and shoes were jumbled in the backseat, and several fast food bags crumpled on the floor indicated a diet of convenience for the car’s owners.  He was studying the car when voices coming from the building’s rear entry caught his ear. 

A moment later, a thin, brown-haired woman came out the back door, pulling up short when she saw him.  The girl who came behind her moved in a blur, jumping sideways like a cat, instantly giving her a better tactical position.  The black-haired boy who owned the Toyota moved to the girl’s side, his blue eyes locked on Mike.  Before the situation could devolve further, Mike spoke.

“Dr. Jensen?  Caeco?  I’m Mike West, from Oracle.”

Everyone froze and, knowing his time was short, he continued his pre-thought-out speech, oddly nervous under the hard eyes of the girl and her boyfriend.  He held up his credentials and spoke quickly but evenly.

“I’m guessing you’ve heard of Oracle, and I hope you know that we would like nothing more than an opportunity to help you out of your problem with your previous employers.  I’ve spoken to my boss, Nathan Stewart, and we have a team on the way to provide you and your daughter with protection from AIR.”

“I know of Oracle, Mr. West, and what I know is that you can’t protect us from AIR, plus I don’t feel inclined to believe your words.  AIR already has an agent on the ground here.”

“Yes, he’s in my trunk, thanks to your daughter’s skills.  I have people arriving within the next two hours to take him.  We have a plan, and if you’ll give me a moment of your time, I can lay it all out for you.”

The girl moved forward slightly, speaking as she went.  “I don’t believe him, Mother.”  West brought the Taser in his right hand out from under his left armpit but kept it pointed at the ground.  The boyfriend smiled a hard smile at the sight of it and stepped forward.  Mike pointed the Taser in his direction.

“He’s telling the truth, at least as far as he knows it.  I think ye should hear him out,” an attractive woman said in a thick Irish accent from behind Dr. Jensen.  “Declan, leave off his Taser… they just make you all jittery, dear.  Worse than sugar.”

The boy frowned, then met the curious glance of the girl who was the root cause of all this.  He shrugged. “Darci, my aunt’s partner, gets mad every time I drain hers,” he said to Caeco. 

“That’s because yer always doing it just before she’s due on patrol, dear,” the pretty woman said.  “Now let’s go back inside and have some tea.  Come along, Mr. West. Let’s hear this brilliant plan.”

Bemused by her casual disregard for the tension of the moment, West found himself ushered into a warm combination living room and kitchen that was decorated in rich earth tones.  A rustic wood plank table centered the room, set squarely on a green and black wool rug.  Plants grew in profusion, the furniture looked comfortable and rustic, and there were candles everywhere. A salt pillar occupied one end table, and there were multiple natural crystals hanging in the windows to catch the sunlight and spray multi-colored dots around the room.  Celtic designs were everywhere: painted, carven, woven, and sculpted into a large portion of the decorations.  A big Vermont Castings woodstove took up one corner, kindling and chunks of wood stacked nearby and ready for the cold autumn nights.

Within moments, he was seated across from the girl, her mother, and the boy, a cup of tea between his hands.

This is not at all what I expected,
he thought.  Gathering his words, he looked up at his audience and began to speak.