Magic on the Hunt (6 page)

“I told Shame. And Hayden. But there wasn’t time to do anything else. And then we were trying to close the Death well and fighting the solid Veiled, and Dad was talking through me, to you, and . . .” I shrugged. I was doing the best I could. If that wasn’t good enough for him, I didn’t give a damn.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. There hasn’t been time. But there is time now. I think before we do anything else, we should address the situation with your father.”

Zay had been sipping his whiskey, holding it in his mouth before swallowing. He took down the last of it and set the glass on the table at his elbow.

“Have either of you seen Shame or Terric?” Victor asked.

As if on cue, Shame and Terric came walking through the door.

“Bullshit,” Terric said, ending whatever conversation they’d been having.

“Afternoon, all,” Shame said. “What are we drinking?”

“Whiskey,” Maeve said.

“Bless you, Mum. Don’t mind if I do.” He beelined for the liquor cabinet.

“Just a shot is all for you, Shamus Flynn,” she said. “We have a day yet to work.”

Terric walked around the couch on Zay’s side and rolled his eyes before taking one of the empty chairs to Zay’s left.

“Anything we need to know about?” Zay asked.

“You already know that Shame is a complete idiot, so no.”

Shame knocked back two shots and poured another one before his mom called out his name.

“Two shots won’t even warm my bones,” he complained.

“You’ll get by on cold bones, then,” Maeve said. “Did you have any luck at all?”

He turned, two full shot glasses in his hand. “Finding Dane? No. Can tell you where he isn’t. He isn’t a lot of places.”

“Did you document them?” Victor asked.

“That was Ter’s job.”

“I uploaded it,” Terric said. “You should have it.”

Victor opened his nifty little tech device and scanned the screen. “You covered some ground. Good. We’ve also checked the east side and don’t see any sign of him.”

“If he’s smart, he’s out of the city,” Zay said.

Victor nodded. “I don’t think he’ll leave. Not without finding Sedra.”

Shame handed Terric one of the shots and sat next to his mother.

“Shame,” Victor said, “I’ll need your assistance with Allie.”

“What are we doing to Allie?” he asked with a grin.

“We’re going to see if we can’t solve the problem her father has become.”

“I’m coming too,” Zay said.

“Fine.” Victor stood.

“How exactly are we going to solve the problem?” I asked.

“I’ll find him in your mind and remove him,” Victor said.

“Which means he dies, right?” I asked.

Victor tipped his head and studied me. “It may not be so. Your father always seems to have backup plans.”

“But it’s possible?”

“Yes.”

I thought about that for a minute. I didn’t want my dad in my head. Didn’t want him using me. Especially after what Dane had said about him Closing me. But at the same time, I felt a little like I was sealing his fate.

I hope you have a backup plan
, I thought to him. He didn’t respond.

“Is it dangerous?” I asked.

“It is.”

“And it hurts?”

“Very much so.”

Since my options appeared to be A: pain of removal, or B: pain of keeping him around indefinitely, I chose A: pain of removal.

Sorry, Dad, but I can’t let you stay. I can’t live like this.
Still no reply.

I swallowed my unexpected guilt. “Let’s do it.”

Zay was already on his feet. Terric and Maeve stayed seated. “Will you need to use Blood magic?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Victor said. “If you don’t mind staying here for when the others arrive?”

“That’s fine.” Maeve still looked exhausted. No, more than that, she looked like she was hurting. Three days wasn’t enough time to recover from what we’d been through. Hell, I could use three months of downtime right about now.

We followed the curve of the wall to a door worked in wood, glass, and iron. Victor opened it. No spells, no thumbprint, just a latch and a push.

The light automatically lit when we stepped into the room, and the soft scent of cherry blossoms filled the air.

It was about the size of one of Maeve’s sitting rooms, but the difference was this room had a door on every wall. Each door was a different kind of wood inset with glyphs worked in glass, lead, and iron, representing different elements and disciplines. Other than the doors, the room had a lush cushioned chair in each corner and square pocket shelves carved into the walls, with a different colored stone or hunk of metal centered on each shelf.

Shame, Zay, and I filed into the room, and Victor shut the door, whispering a sweet lock spell I was totally going to steal from him.

Shame walked over to the black chair ahead and to my right; Zay took the blue chair ahead and to my left.

Victor walked to the door on my right, traced a glyph there, paused, then paced to the next door and traced a different glyph. Setting wards, making it safe to do whatever we were about to do.

Zay frowned, watching Victor, fingers tapping his thigh. Impatient. Angry.

I wasn’t sure what was behind his anger—what we were about to do, or what had happened earlier today.

Victor moved on to the last door to the left and cast glyphs of Death and Earth, then finished the circuit, ending with his back against the door we had come into the room through. There he worked Life magic glyphs. He faced the middle of the room, his hands behind his back.

“Allie, stand in the center of the room,” he said.

I pushed off the wall I was leaning on and stood in the middle, turning to face Victor.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

I nodded. “Let’s get this done.” I wanted Dad out of my head. I wanted him to go quietly to death where he belonged but at the same time felt like I was throwing him to the wolves. Anger, frustration, and sorrow got mixed up in my guilt and, yes, whatever remaining shreds of love I had for the man I’d always wished he could be.

Why couldn’t you have just died the first time you were killed?
I thought.

Nothing.

“Four disciplines,” Victor said, putting Influence behind his words, “one magic of light. Let us begin.”

The soft cream walls glowed with spells activating—visible to the naked eye, which was unusual. The magic flowed like a flood of fire and water, then a wash of wind and tumble of earth, spanning the walls, rising to erupt across the ceiling. Magic sank into the floor, blending into a carpet of multicolored ribbons that were linked and woven, just like the marks of magic that wrapped up my arm.

Only a circle in the center of the floor was untouched by magic. The circle where I stood.

“All who stand within this room, speak your name.” Victor looked at Shame.

“Shamus Flynn,” Shame said.

“Zayvion Jones,” Zay said.

Victor looked at me, and I felt his gaze push aside all my worries, all my thoughts. “Allison Beckstrom,” I heard myself say.

Victor waited, his gaze sinking deeper into me. I could feel the tendrils of the magic in the room seeking me out like a root questing for water, wrapping like vines, licking like fire at my ankles, and up, into my body, tasting, testing. It didn’t hurt. But I wanted to move, move away from it before it knew me, before it knew what I was, where I was. Before it forced me to speak—

“Speak,” Victor Influenced.

“Daniel Beckstrom,” I said. Only it wasn’t me. It was my father.

The tendrils of magic darted up, snake quick, and split in two, catching and surrounding me in what felt like a soft cocoon. The magic caught and surrounded my father too.

Even though I was cocooned, I didn’t feel trapped. All my worries had been placed aside, all memories, fears, trivial thoughts, put at rest, leaving me surrounded in peace. There was the “me” in my mind, and over there, at arm’s reach, was the “him” of Dad in me.

It finally felt like I had some breathing room in my own head.

“Daniel Beckstrom,” Victor said, “will you willingly leave your daughter’s mind?”

“You know I won’t, Victor,” I said—he said. Whatever. “There is no place for me to go.”

“Death,” Victor said, “is where you should rightfully be. Shamus?”

Shame strolled over, his hands low at his sides. He walked around to stand in front of me.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Beckstrom. I appreciate your not killing me with the whole disk thing a few days ago. But I’d just be lying if I said I haven’t been looking forward to this for a long time now.”

Shame pointed his finger at my chest. He didn’t touch me; he didn’t break eye contact; he didn’t speak. He slowly traced a glyph in the air. Magic rose to his hand and dragged ponderously through the glyph as if the magic were actually earth, soil, and stone. The glyph became solid, filled with that magic.

The crystal in his chest glowed through his black T-shirt, soft pink, then blue-white, then bloodred, pulsing with his heartbeat. He did not cast the spell, not yet.

It was a taunt, a slow-motion game of dare. Even from the middle of my peacefulness I could feel how furious Dad was. And worried. I wondered if he’d finally met his match.

“You are making a grave mistake, Flynn,” Dad said. “Just like your father.”

Shame’s lips quirked up. “You killed my father, Mr. Beckstrom. And now it’s time for me to return the favor.” He closed the glyph and cast the spell.

Dad stretched out in my mind, taking up more space, too much space, crushing my safe cocoon. He became a thousand hands that patted and crawled over me, digging deep and holding on.

I moaned, but that didn’t stop Shame.

I didn’t know what Victor was doing, didn’t know what Zay was doing. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea at all. I couldn’t look away from Shame’s eyes. Eyes that were no longer green, but pure, heartless black.

He spoke one word: “Die.”

Knife-hot pain slashed through me. I yelled, tipping my face up and trying to force the pain out of my chest, out of my mind, out of my head. The pain doubled, tripled. I couldn’t get away from it, couldn’t make it stop, could not endure. I wanted away from my body, my mind. Wanted away from this pain.

I was stuck. Anchored. Burning from the inside out.

I tasted mint, knew Zayvion must be touching me. I couldn’t feel him through the agony.

I begged for unconsciousness.

The pain raged, grew. Something snapped in me, then snapped again in quick succession, like spine-deep roots ripping out of me, one by one. I blacked out and came to between each blinding flash of pain.

Please
, I thought,
please stop. I can’t. I can’t.

The gentle fragrance of Earl Grey tea filled me, along with a soothing wash of mint. My cocoon wrapped more tightly around me, holding me, not safe from the pain but keeping some of it at bay.

I don’t know how long I endured, wrapped in Victor’s magic and Zay’s embrace while Shame ripped my mind apart. Maybe seconds. Maybe a year. Fear took hold where just a moment before pain had resided. How much of my mind would be left after Shame was done? How much of me would my father allow to be destroyed before he gave me up?

Dane’s words came back to me. “Your father Closed you many times. Used you. Filling up the holes in you he’s been making for himself all these years. Taking up the room he’s carved out in you.”

Much too late, I realized there was no way to stop Shame, to tell Victor or Zayvion what I suddenly knew. My father would let me die before he ever allowed them to remove him from my mind.

Chapter Five

“T
here, now. That’s a sight better, isn’t it?” Shame’s voice. Still in front of me.

I blinked. I was standing in the center of the room, breathing hard, covered in sweat, shaking. My back was pressed up against Zayvion, his arms wrapped around me, helping me stay on my feet. Pain—and I knew I had just been through a lot of it—was a foggy memory. I took a second to lean back into Zay, then worked on supporting myself.

Did okay. Zay shifted his grip so his hands rested on my hips, long fingers tucked into my front pockets.

“What happened?” I asked. I could really use a drink of water. Maybe a chair to sit in. Or a bed to pass out on.

Shame put his hand on my good arm, and I jerked away from him. Instinct told me he had hurt me. I did not want him touching me.

He took a step back and held both hands palm up, looking first at me, then over my shoulder at Zay.

“We got a good, close look at exactly how your father is possessing you,” Shame said.

“Look?” I asked. “All that pain for a look?”

“No,” Victor said. “There is more. Would you like to sit?”

“Not here. Not in here. I want out, need out.” I suddenly didn’t like this little room. This little room was too easily filled with pain.

“We can go outside, if you like,” Victor said. “There will be more people there.”

“I don’t care. How long have I been in here?” It felt like months, years.

“Five minutes,” Shame said.

The absurdity of that brought my panicking thoughts into focus. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

He shook his head. “We were able to drag him out of a few core places in your mind, but he’s still in there, hooked in tight. Five minutes was all the pain we dared let you tolerate, so we stopped.”

“You shouldn’t have. You should have just done it. I was already in pain. You should have pulled him out no matter how much it hurt.”

“It could have killed you, love,” Shame said. “Stopped your heart or stroked you out. He’s . . . entrenched.”

Victor was pacing the circle of the room again, this time clockwise, pausing at each door and working the spells until he was back where he had begun. A brief pause, a few motions, and then he opened the door.

“Still hurting?” Zay asked me quietly. His breath smelled like mint, and every place we touched was warm and tingly. He walked with me, one arm around my back, fingers slipped in my front pocket. At first I wanted to brush him off, but after a few steps I was glad he was there. Not because I was uncertain on my feet but because I was feeling strangely vulnerable, like I’d just had the worst root canal in my life.

“Not really hurting,” I said. “Just. Hell.”

A hot surge of anger flashed through Zay. Anger at Shame for hurting me. I could not deal with the heat of it.

“Easy,” I said. “He was trying to help me. Dad’s the problem.”

Then, to Victor, I said, “Tell me that was worth it.”

“It was,” Victor said from behind us. He waited until we were seated again. I belatedly noticed the Georgia sisters were in the room. I used to think they were called the Georgia sisters because that was their last name. Turned out they were each named after a city in Georgia, so the nickname stuck. They had drinks—nonalcoholic—in their hands, and one of the sisters, the youngest, Savannah, was eating a sandwich. She waved as I walked in.

I thought about gulping down my spiked coffee but let it stay where it was. I did not need to start looking for alcohol when things got shifty. Plus, my stomach couldn’t take it right now.

Victor paced over to the table and poured three glasses of water. “Your father has always been a very strong magic user. That alone makes him a challenge to deal with. And he is ruthless in achieving his goals. Which means he does not care how much pain you endure.

“He has dug into you very deeply, Allie. And won’t let go.” Victor handed me a glass of water, and I drank until it was gone.

“To remove him—which can be done—will take more than just two of us, and I will want the doctor on hand. But what we were able to do, what you paid the price of pain for, is to disconnect his control of your mind and give you a hold over him.”

“Which means?”

“He is bound to do as you say.”

“What?”

“Think of it as you now have full Influence over him. He may not like what you tell him to do, but he will be unable to refuse you.”

“Nice turnabout, eh?” Shame asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.
Dad?
I thought.
Are you listening?

Yes.
He answered. Victor was right; he didn’t sound happy about it.

Will you do anything I tell you to do?

The slightest hesitation, then,
They bound me, Allie. To you
, he growled.
They did to you what I have been trying very hard not to do. We may be permanently joined.

Oh, forget not happy. “He’s furious,” I said.

“Too bad,” Shame said. “He doesn’t like it, he knows the way out.”

“Are you sure? He said we might be permanently joined.”

“Horseshit,” Shame said cheerfully. “He can dispossess you and die. Pretty easy, really. Most people die the right way the first time. You’d think a genius like him wouldn’t screw it up so badly.”

Dad kicked around in my head, but it didn’t hurt. It was like he was wrapped in a giant ball of cotton and couldn’t really touch me.

I loved it. Totally worth the pain.

“So what do we need to know from him?” I asked. I didn’t have a single thread of faith this would last. My dad was too good at getting out from under other people’s control. He always had a plan.

“Tell him you want him to answer my questions truthfully, and let me talk to him.” Victor was pacing, drinking his water, and watching the map on the wall slowly wash with brighter and deeper colors along the lines of magic.

The map had to be real time; you could see the spikes of magic use around the more densely populated areas, see it lighten out toward the suburbs before darkening again at the hearts of other towns, like Tigard, Forest Grove, Oregon City. Sparks of color—short-burst high magic use—sparkled across the map like stars.

Beautiful really, until you remembered every bit of that beauty was costing someone pain.

I didn’t love the idea of letting Dad talk through me again, but what the hell. Maybe this time it would be for a good reason.

You will answer Victor truthfully. You will answer all of his questions. You will not control my body, but you can speak through me until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?

Allie, there are other ways you and I could end this. Could make the world right again. You can break this binding between us.

You will do as I said, and you will do it now.
I felt like a parent demanding that a kid eat his vegetables.

Weird thing? It worked. Dad took over my mouth.

“Yes, Victor, what do you want to know?” My voice sounded angry, tired, and condescending all at once. Dad was chafing raw under these restrictions, but it didn’t feel like I was shoved out of the way of my own mind. He was just using my mouth. I could take over, talk over him, if I wanted to.

Victor stopped pacing and squared off toward me. “Where is Jingo Jingo holding Sedra?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have a way of finding out?”

I could feel my dad squirm. Finally, “Yes.”

“How?”

“The cage that holds her was my technology. I can track it.”

“Are you the only one who can track it?”

Dad sighed. “Do we really have to do it this way?” he asked. “You and I both know there is so much more at stake than petty parlor tricks and binding spells that I can easily break.”

“This spell will not be easily broken, Daniel. Not even by you.”

I could tell my dad didn’t believe him. And I was pretty sure his contempt showed on my face.

Victor spoke softly, evenly. “You were not the only one experimenting with magic all these long years,” he said. “I think you forget that. You were not the only one who learned ways to augment, to sharpen the tools of magic into weapons. You are not the only one who will go to long lengths to see that magic remains in the hands of those who can best guard it.”

He took a step away, turned his back, staring at the screen. “In your day you were a great magic user. But you are dead. This world is no longer for you, Daniel. It’s an embarrassment you remain here.”

“Life,” Dad said, “and death. Neither suits me better than the other. Both have their uses for men like us.”

Victor turned back around. “That has always been your creed. Everything, everyone, categorized by how useful they are to you. Even your daughter. You loved her once. I know that. But you have been using her—”

“You will never understand what I have done,” he cut in. “What I have
had
to do to keep her safe. To keep magic safe, controlled.”

“Magic is not yours to control, Daniel. Neither is your daughter.”

I wasn’t liking this turn in the conversation.

“Can we,” I started, and was surprised at how easy it was to talk. Dad just got all cotton bally and distant when I spoke. “It’s me, again, Allie,” I said. “Can we get back to the important things?”

Dad kicked, and even through the cotton ball, I could feel his anger.

Yeah, well, he could suck it. I wasn’t going to let this conversation wander. I wanted to know what he knew about Sedra too. The fact that he liked to make people think he was right was nothing new.

Victor nodded. “Tell me how to find Sedra.”

I felt my mouth close, lips pressed tight in a very unlike-me, very like-Dad way.

Tell him
, I said.

“There is a . . . device. With the right spell, it will immediately locate the cage. And where the cage is, Sedra is.”

“And you know Jingo is keeping her in the cage?”

“Have you found Jingo’s corpse?” Dad asked. “No? Then Sedra is still trapped.”

Huh. He had a point there. Sedra was no slouch when it came to using magic. If she weren’t caged, I bet she’d take Jingo to his knees. She was the Head of the Authority, after all.

“Where is the device?” Victor asked.

“I don’t know. Exactly.”

I nudged Dad again.

“My condo. When I last saw it, it was in my home. I don’t know if it is still there.”

“What do you know about Leander and the undead Veiled?” Victor asked.

“I know the histories of Leander and Isabelle. I know they both died. I know the undead Veiled are using my technology to make themselves solid.” He sounded annoyed by that.

“Do you know where Leander is?”

“No.”

“Do you know what he wants?”

Dad paused.

The main door opened, and I turned. Dr. Fisher wore what I’d seen her in this morning. Sunny was wearing an indie band T-shirt, ripped jeans, and her hair was stuffed into a knit hat. Hayden, who towered over the girl and looked like he could wrestle bears for a living, was there too. He took in the room and headed straight for Maeve, who smiled and held her hand out to him, which he took, as he stood behind her. The twins, Carl and La, shut the door. Victor flicked a look their way, and they crossed the room and helped themselves to the drinks.

“Leander wants what he has always wanted, Victor,” Dad said. “Men with passion do not become less of themselves once they die. They only become more of who they have always been. Death distills the soul.”

“Therefore, I can assume Leander wants power. Revenge. And all the things he was denied in life.”

“Isabelle?” Maeve asked. “He wanted Isabelle. But she’s dead. They were both dead. At peace. Together. Why come back?”

“To live. They were cheated out of life together,” Dad said. “He wants life with her, not death with her. Immortality. If I were still a part of the Authority and had a vote in these matters, I would be advising us all to stop looking at this problem on a small scale. It is not whether or not we find Sedra in time to save her from death, it is not whether Dane and his men have gone rogue, nor that Jingo has broken trust by using magic against other members of the Authority that matters. What matters is deciding what our enemy really wants, what his end goal is, and stopping that before it is too late.”

Victor folded his hands behind his back, his stance a little wider, as if to carry the weight of that comment.

“You’re confusing the problem,” Maeve said. “Is Jingo Jingo working for you?”

“No.”

“Is he working for anyone other than himself?” she asked.

Dad sighed. “You know Jingo. He has only ever worked for himself.”

At her look, he added, “Mikhail. He is working for Mikhail. Always has been. All these years.”

The silence in the room told me how much of a surprise that was to everyone. Shame swore softly and pushed up out of his chair to pace. He looked like he wanted to hit someone.

“Do you know what he is doing for Mikhail?” Maeve asked.

I felt my head shake. That was weird. “Whatever has made Jingo Jingo follow Mikhail, even though Mikhail is dead, is beyond me,” Dad said. “I have my suspicions. I think Mikhail promised Jingo something. I don’t know what, but Jingo Jingo is motivated by power and by his appetites.”

Victor frowned. “Appetites?”

“Come now, Victor, haven’t you known that Jingo Jingo finds his pleasure in children?”

Victor closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Do you have proof of that?”

“Only the closet full of bones Jingo has kept hidden.”

Oh hells. I knew Dad was telling the truth. Jingo Jingo always struck me as creepy. And now the ghosts of children I’d always seen surrounding him when I used Sight suddenly made sense. He’d killed them and trapped their souls.

Fucking bastard.

The mood in the room had gone grim. No one said anything. I don’t think anyone knew what to say. What could you do when you discover the enemy within your midst is a child-murdering monster?

I could tell no one knew Jingo Jingo had a closet full of bones. After the silence, the anger in the room was palpable, the betrayal almost physical. I knew the Authority had rules and trials and their own brand of justice. And I was sure that if they found those bones, Jingo Jingo was going to be a dead man. No trial needed.