Ripper (The Morphid Chronicles Book 2) (39 page)

After a moment, he took a few steps forward, just enough to move closer to the next set of tables, then stopped and searched each face again.

He’s looking for someone.

Or maybe he was just peculiar, like most of the people here. Greg pressed a nervous hand to his mouth, considering. The prickling on the back of his neck had stopped. For all he knew, this man was harmless, a confused soul in search of a friendly, familiar face.

Warily, he continued to watch the man as he slowly made his way toward the food line, stopping to survey every guest at every table. When he finally made it there, he aimed his scrutiny at the servers behind the counter.

Greg padded forward, his muscles tense and ready to pounce should the man make any sudden moves. He hated to take his eyes off him, but his gaze flicked toward Sam, hoping to catch her attention to shoot her a warning.

In the place where she should have stood, however, he found Dan instead. He had taken over her spot and was scooping eggs with his usual good humor.

Heart pounding its way into his throat, Greg searched the back of the serving line, looking for Sam, but she was nowhere to be seen.

He ran to the front of the line and inserted himself in between two of the guests.

“Where’s Sam?” he demanded. “Where did she go?”

Dan, Nadine and everyone else around him were startled at the ferocity in his voice.

“Answer me!” he barked when all they did was stare at him as if he was Fate itself sprung fresh from the ground.

“She went in the back with her friend, dude. Said they needed to talk. Chill out,” Dan said.

A part of him welcomed the explanation. Sam had gone with Brooke for another girls’ conversation. His more protective side, though, was urging him to run to the back immediately. Brooke had come in through the door at the same time that man had. What if . . . ?

Not daring to finish the thought, Greg pushed past the serving counter and through the double doors that led into the kitchen. What he found there sent his body crackling with protective magic that took only an instant to energize his entire body.

He had been tricked.

Chapter 53 - Veridan

Veridan tightened his grip around the little boy’s neck and held his other hand forward—a bright mass of magic crackling, jumping at his fingertips. The boy’s back was flush against his thighs. He took a step back from their place in the kitchen. At first, the boy had wiggled and tried to get away, but it’d only taken a small current of electricity down his collarbone to scare him into submission. All he could do now was shake.

Veridan cursed inwardly at the missed opportunity. The plan had been to get to Samantha first, but the oblivious boy had playfully skipped into his path as Veridan made his entrance. An annoying interruption that threatened to thwart all his efforts.

“Let my boy go, you bastard,” the boy’s father said. He was red-faced and properly terrified.

“Stay back or I’ll kill him,” Veridan growled, the magic in his hand crackling in unison with his words.

“Please don’t—” Samantha started, but was cut short when her bloody Keeper busted through the door, his entire body buzzing with protective magic much brighter than Veridan’s own.

Damn him!

“Stand back, Keeper,” he shouted, squeezing the boy so hard that his feet came off the floor.

“Greg, no!” Samantha put an arm across the Keeper’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. “He said he’d kill Jacob.”

A satisfying smile spread across Veridan’s lips.

She cares for the boy, for this Jacob. How delightful!

Perhaps not all was lost. After his visit to Brooke, Veridan had forsaken his quiet night of sleep for a busy night of preparations. Visiting Rothblade Castle had become a necessity, rather than something to be avoided. And then his plan had been set in motion, one that might still work, if he treaded carefully.

“What do you want, Veridan?” the Keeper demanded. “I thought you might have learned not to mess with us, but it seems the only lesson you’ll understand is
when I put you in the ground
.”

Veridan hated the chill that spread from his neck to the bottom of his spine. The Keeper had nearly killed him during their last encounter. As long as he was tethered to the girl, magic was useless against him.

With some effort, Veridan kept his face stony, reining in and concealing his fear. Jacob, though small, was proving to be an excellent shield. Now if Veridan could only get Samantha to come closer.

“I want
you
,” he looked pointedly at the girl, “to come with me,” Veridan said.

“She’s not going anywhere,” the Keeper said.

“Then the boy dies.” Veridan moved his crackling hand closer to Jacob’s face. The child managed a puppy-like whimper through his constricted throat.

“No! Let him go. Please, I beg you!” The father sounded quite desperate now.

Veridan considered turning his magic on the annoying man, but then decided it was better to let him grovel. It seemed to be having an effect on Samantha, judging by the desolate look she cast the man’s way. Not a bad side effect in this situation.

Time for a little demonstration to push things along.

“My dear girl, the boy’s fate is in your hands. Will you let him die to save yourself?”

Under his breath, Veridan spoke an incantation that sent tendrils of energy undulating in a macabre dance toward Jacob. He released his choking grip as the magic reached his chubby face. Like snake tongues, the electrified strands licked Jacob’s cheeks and sent his body twitching. A girlish scream escaped through his pale, small mouth as his arms flailed to the side.

Veridan had no intention of killing him, not yet anyway, so he began whispering the words to end the spell. Except he had no time. Before he was done with what was meant to be a brief show of power, Jacob’s father let out a primal bellow and charged at Veridan with the power of an enraged bull.

“You bastard,” he cried out before he rammed a shoulder into Veridan’s stomach, sending him
and
Jacob sprawling to the side.

Veridan hit the floor, his head snapping backwards and nearly colliding against the cheap tiles.

Adrenaline and wayward magic electrified his veins and painted crumbling patterns before his eyes.

Not this. Not again.

He would not be defeated.

Chapter 54 - Sam

Sam’s heart stopped for what felt like an eternity as she watched Bruce tackle Veridan, a twitching Jacob sandwiched in the middle. As if in slow motion, they flew through the air, but right before they smacked the floor, Bruce pushed Jacob off to the side.

Brooke, who had been huddled in a corner ever since she pulled Sam into the kitchen with the excuse of needing to talk, screamed at the top of her lungs.

Jacob rolled away from the scrap, struck the bottom of the back cabinets and went limp. The electrifying energy that had been coursing through his body stopped, but he showed no signs of life.

“Jacob!” Sam started toward the limp boy, but Greg wrapped an arm around her waist and held her back. “Let me check on him.” Her hands reached out as she begged.

“Stay back,” Greg ordered in a commanding voice that nearly made her cower away from him. “Run!” He pushed her away toward the double doors behind him. She staggered back, arms windmilling for balance.

“What’s going on here?” Nadine asked, pushing through the door.

Sam’s back smacked against the cook who caught her and helped her regain her balance.

“Oh, Fates!” Nadine exclaimed when she caught a glimpse of the ongoing battle. “Not in my kitchen.”

Sam peered back toward the door, Greg’s command to run echoing in her ears. She knew she should listen and get out of there, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t save herself and leave everyone else behind.

She just couldn’t.

Instead, she rushed to Brooke’s side just as a series of loud clanks sounded behind her. She dared not look.

“Brooke!” Sam shook her until her terrified gaze snapped to attention. “You two, leave! Now!” She pushed her toward Nadine and issued the command once more. As they ran out of the kitchen, Sam turned, her heart guarding itself against what she might find.

The pot rack had come lose from the ceiling and had fallen on top of Greg. He was on one knee with an arm over his head, holding the rack at bay. Skillets lay strewn all around him. He stood, flung his arm to the side and sent the rack flying across the stove.

In front of him, Veridan was still under Bruce. Both were immobile, not a hint of struggle between them. Greg stood watching them as still as they were. Sam took a step closer, her eyes unblinking and fixed on the two men.

Then Veridan kicked his magic-charged arms and legs and Bruce sailed straight upward. He hit the drop ceiling, then plummeted down and landed on the floor with bone-crushing force.

Sam watched in horror as Jacob, who had come to and was sitting in a daze with his back pressed against the cabinets, reached a hand toward his father.

“Daddy?” he said in a tremulous voice. He crawled, arms and legs shaking and pressed a small hand to his father’s face. “Daddy?” he repeated, this time louder.

Bruce was still, his open, fixed eyes staring into nothingness. Sam stifled a cry for the boy’s sake, but in her mind she heard her own voice, raw and frantic, roaring at the injustice. Jacob couldn’t lose his father—not now that he had him back.

“You fucking monster.” Greg’s clenched fists were stiff at his sides, trembling with pent up energy.

He jumped forward, arms outstretched to catch Veridan, but the Sorcerer was faster. He hopped out of the way in a blur of movement, a hand tight around his talisman. Like a dashing shadow, he stepped back, then sideways until he was behind Jacob again.

The boy’s face was buried in his father’s neck as he wailed like a newborn.

“Get away from him!” Sam yelled, looking around for something to use as a weapon. A magnetic strip attached to the wall caught her eye. It held in place several knives in different shapes and sizes. She snatched the biggest one. As useless as it seemed, it was better than nothing. When she turned back, the Sorcerer had Jacob back in his clutches.

“Back where we started?” Veridan said. “Although, in truth, worse off.” He cast a disdainful glace down at Bruce’s inert body. “Do you still doubt I will kill the boy?” Veridan’s gaze darted to the back door. He edged his way in that direction.

Jacob struggled, his small hands reaching toward Bruce, his legs stiff and trailing behind him as Veridan pulled him along.

I can’t let him take Jacob. Do something!

But what? What could she do? She was useless, her power and even Greg’s were nothing against this threat. They couldn’t act and risk Jacob’s loss. Still, their hesitation had already cost Bruce his life.

No, not their hesitation,
hers.
Veridan wanted her. No one else.

Sam shook her head. That was also a lie. If she did as Veridan wanted and went with him, she would be putting more than her own life at risk. The Sorcerer might kill her on the spot, but she doubted that was his plan. More likely, he would bring her to Danata. Then Greg would become a victim, too. Or more precisely: a casualty. Judging by past experience, they would not turn out like Bruce or Elizabeth.

What then? What?!

“I’ll go with you!” Sam shouted, feeling her head near the point of explosion. She took a few steps forward.

“No, stay back,” Greg ordered her. “You can’t trust him.”

“Come and I will let the boy go. I promise.” Veridan had moved further back and was now pushing the door open with his back.

Sam gave a Greg a desperate look.
“We have to do something,”
her eyes said. He nodded, understanding her better than anyone ever could. Sam barely had time to register his assent when, in his act-first-ask-questions-later fashion, he threw his hands in Veridan’s direction and discharged a blue bolt of energy that zapped across the air at the speed of a bullet. The bolt exploded across the Sorcerer’s chest, clearing Jacob’s head by mere inches.

Veridan flew past the door and slammed, back first, against the wall in the narrow hall outside the kitchen. He slid down and crumpled to the floor, legs sprawled and holding the door open.

Free from the evil Sorcerer’s clutches, Jacob, face wet with tears, ran to Sam, crashing against her and burying his face in her t-shirt.

She wrapped the boy in a tight embrace. “Jacob.” He felt solid and safe in her arms, but her heart kept racing, her brain screaming that something was amiss. What little relief she’d felt slipped away before it became whole.

Something’s wrong.

Her head shot up. Greg was making his way to the back door where Veridan had collapsed.

“Greg, don’t!” Sam said, but he didn’t stop right away. Instead, he took another step forward, put a hand up to acknowledge her.

Then Sam felt a cold tug against her very soul and anything else she might have said died in her throat.

She knew what was coming an instant before Danata stepped from behind the wall and into the threshold right in front of her now-smiling Sorcerer.