The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) (27 page)

“For?” she croaked.

“For the main event, of course. It’s the blood moon, Poppy. Even though you’re new to this, surely someone’s told you the power tonight has. It isn’t just Samhain, it’s Samhain plus.”

Right, right, right. The blood moon lifted some veil, bad things could happen. Sometimes it opened portals. Call ghostbusters.

Oh.

Oh, oh, oh. Without knowing how or why Poppy made a connection. Avis was a bad dude. A bad warlock dude. Bad warlock dudes probably liked to do bad things—maybe they even liked to do them with bad spirits. Bad spirits wanted into this world. Tonight, with it not only being Samhain but the blood moon, it was like bad spirit spring break, and she’d bet her eyeballs Avis had bought a ticket.

As the realization hit her, so did the agonizing return of the pain in her belly, a sure sign she was on to something. She was right. She didn’t know the details, but she knew she was right.

Gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to double over, Poppy asked, “What’s the main event, Avis?”

He clucked his tongue. “First, why not come out of there, Poppy. You’re too pretty to let anyone put Baby in the corner,” he teased, motioning she should join him. “Second, the main event is your death. Among other things.”

Yeah. She got it now. Well, mostly. The details remained fuzzy. For instance, why he wanted her dead was a mystery. “So you were the one who brought me here? You were the one who was calling my name? You made the vision I had. You made me think it was Yash.
You’re
the aura!”

Moving a step closer in her direction, Avis cocked his ear. “Well, duh, Sugarlumps. I know, I know. You’re thinking, ‘Well, golly. I knew I didn’t like him, but I never thought he was this big of a prick.’ Am I right?”

A scream bubbled in the back of her throat at the pain searing through her belly, but she refused to give in.

Sweat pooled between her breasts, her hair soaked, but she clung to the wall, pressing her forehead into it, seeking the cool surface to soothe her.

“Winner-winner-chicken-dinner,” she spat. “I’m not surprised, mind you. I knew I hated your stinkin’ fancy-pants guts, but I just couldn’t connect the dots. I haven’t been doing this long enough to fully comprehend all the reasons these things are happening to me. So why don’t you fill me in? What the hell are you doing, why is my death on your plate, and why isn’t this building falling to dusty bits of rubble by now?”

He flapped a hand in the air and winked. “Oh, that. Because it never
was
going to fall to dusty bits of rubble, Goose. As we speak, those utter buffoons from the demolition crew are having some sort of technical difficulties. They can’t figure it out because there’s nothing to figure out. It’s just a simple spell that, in the end, won’t matter one ding-dang bit. In fact, right now they’re trying to call our man Rick for instruction on what to do next. But they won’t reach him.”

A spike of fear, insidious and hateful, threaded its way through her veins. “Why won’t they reach him? Did you hurt him?”

“Bah! I would never hurt Rick. I’m sure he’s safe somewhere nursing his spell-driven laryngitis. But I
would
hurt everyone around him in order to get what I want, and that, I’m afraid, includes you. I am, indeed, the aura. Or the person responsible for the insidious aura attached to you.”

“But why?” she squeaked, swallowing hard. “Why would you do that?”

He sighed, exaggerated and long with a roll of his eyes. “Because you’re trouble, Poppy McGuillicuddy. It wouldn’t have been long before you found out about me, and I couldn’t have Rick’s familiar interfering with what’s mine. When I found out you lived in this building, I knew Yash’s spirit had something to do with all this. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Yash’s spirit?”

How the hell did he know Yash’s spirit had anything to do with this? Oh, God.
His spirit
. That meant he was dead.
Nonononono!

“Well, of course! You do realize warlocks do all sorts of magical things like summon spirits, don’t you, ninny? So I summoned his—and I have to tell you, he fought it like a caged tiger. Rick would be proud. But in the end, I discovered what I knew anyway. He created that little accident you had with that feline familiar. Yash sent you to Rick to stop me from getting to Littleton. That’s what all those ugly feelings you’ve been having are about, by the way.”

The impact of his statement wasn’t lost on her, but the focus of his words was Littleton. What was so important about Littleton? Still, she clung to the notion, if she could just get one small break in this pain, she could make a run for him.

And then what, Poppy?

So she kept talking. “But why do I have to die?”

“At first, I just wanted to rid myself of you. Like you, I, too, am intuitive. I sensed your dislike of me from the moment we met. That could bring nothing but heartache, you being Rick’s familiar and all. So you had to go. But when I realized Yash was in the mix, it wasn’t long before I knew he’d find some afterlife way to tell you what happened, and it would be curtains for me before I could get to this point. I’ll give you this—you’re strong, Poppity-Pop. Especially strong for a newb. Alas, I decided to turn the tables. When I couldn’t get rid of you, I decided to invite you to join me tonight instead.”

Another white-hot knife of pain cut through her stomach, making her clench her fists so hard, she dug holes in the palms of her hands with her nails. “Join you for what? What does that mean?”

“For the sacrifice, charming girl.”

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating Avis for the first time since she’d found him—and his face terrified her. He didn’t look at all like what one would expect when they planned a diabolical deed. No. He looked quite calm and very pleased with himself.

“The sacrifice?
I’m
the sacrifice, aren’t I, Avis?”

He clapped his hands, the sound sharp and jarring. “And the door prize goes to Poppy McGuillicuddy!”

L
anding in the garden of Littleton, Rick was the first to come to a standing position, pushing his way out of the bonsai spiral trees and latching onto Nina while scooping up Calamity.

As the women helped each other rise, Calamity whispered to him, “You see that motherfucker? He’s in there. Poppy was right! He’s a crazy bastard!”

“I can’t see a damn thing, Calamity,” he hissed back, squinting into the darkness of the building.

“I can,” Nina confirmed, stroking Calamity’s ears. “Vampire sight and all. That fuck’s in there, and I smell Poppy. She’s fucking petrified, dude. So now what? If we can’t rush the motherfucker and take him out because of this magic shit, what’s our next move?”

“I got this! Everyone stay put!” Calamity whisper-yelled, leaping from Rick’s arms and scampering to the entryway door.

January came up behind him, putting her hand on his arm. “Who is that, Rick? And do you smell what I smell?”

Fuck, he sure did. Death. He smelled the summoning of death.

The pit of despair in his stomach grew. “That’s my partner, Avis.”

“
A warlock
?” January hissed her surprise. “He not only put a spell on this place to keep us out but to keep Poppy inside. How the hell did a warlock get this much power? Where is he getting it from?”

January’s question was valid. Where was Avis getting the kind of power it took to cast all these spells and summon death?

Then something hit him, something that reminded him of the spell he’d done for his father when he hadn’t known any better.

Avis must have some kind of item, a talisman, a crystal, something correlating with the blood moon.

“He has to have something—something that brings all the forces together tonight.”

And then something else hit him—hit him like a punch to his kidneys. “I couldn’t figure out why we wouldn’t schedule the demo after Samhain, but Avis said it was a great way to begin again—it was symbolic. It would bring us good fortune.”

January groaned with a soft emission of air. “Goddess, we need to get Darnell here fast! He’s going to summon spirits from the other side in return for something, using the thinning of the veil—and I can almost guarantee you, Poppy is his sacrifice.”

* * * *

The shudder of her breathing was almost impossible to hide, the pain writhing through her so ungodly, she wasn’t even sure she could move, let alone rush the bastard and knock him down in an effort to get away.

“You might as well come out, Poppy. Why not learn some of your rich history by letting me explain what I’m preparing to do before you die.”

“I can hear you just fine from here.” She all but screamed the words, driving her forehead into the wall to give her something other than the screech of her stomach to focus on.

“Suit yourself,” he offered amicably then patted the stone on the pillar. “See these stones, Poppy? Simply put, when placed together at exactly the right moment, they summon those pesky little spirits wanting into our world, and I’ve made a deal with them.”

“I hope you got free Wi-Fi,” she quipped, letting her head fall back on her shoulders as sweat poured from her face.

“Hah!” he barked. “You’re truly brilliant. I wish we could have been friends. Anyway, here’s the deal. I came across these stones quite by chance. When we were scouting buildings, and I ran smack into your Littleton, I almost shat myself. I don’t know how these stones got here, as out of place as they are with the gauche decor, but here they were. I was intrigued! So I took pictures. I Googled. Lo and behold, I discovered these stones, or cornerstones, are ancient, mystical to my people, and here they were, left to rot with scads of wrinkled tenants. I couldn’t let that happen. Especially after I realized what they could do!”

Because Avis appeared to enjoy sharing his coup, likely due to the fact that he had no one else who liked him long enough to have a cocktail with him, let alone spend enough time with him to tell a story, Poppy bit the bait while she stalled.

“What can the stones do?”

He popped his lips in disappointment. “But don’t you want to know how I pulled all this off? How I got here tonight? I feel like you’re in such a rush, and I have a bit of time to spare until the moon is in full cycle. It’s not like
you
have anywhere to go either.”

Woe is the long-winded storyteller. But maybe, if she kept him talking, someone would show up. Surely by now, the girls and Calamity had made the connection? She prayed someone made the connection.
Please, God, let someone make the connection.

Until then… “Okay, Avis. I’m all ears. Tell me the story,” she encouraged, wincing as another stab at her gut stole her breath.

He paced back and forth, pinching his temples. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The stones. Anyway, this presented a problem. The stones being here. I couldn’t remove them without arousing suspicion in the spirit world. They’re touchy little buggers. So I contacted Mr. Rush and made him an offer I
thought
he couldn’t refuse…”

The hair on the back of her neck rose, knowing he wanted her to ask why Mr. Rush had refused. “So he refused?”

“Did he ever. But that was okay because I had a plan B.”

She only wished
she
had a plan B. Jamming her fist into her stomach, she fought another raging bolt of pain and asked, “What was Plan B? Kill Mr. Rush?”

She attempted to make the question come off as bored, knowing he’d find that disappointing.

“Don’t be silly, Poppet. That was too risky, too obvious. I’d only been here a dozen times trying to buy the building from him. We even had a heated conversation about it. If he turned up dead, surely suspicion would be cast upon me.”

“That’s very cover-your-bases smart of you. So what did you do next, Avis?”

“Went to Disneyland.” Then he laughed at his joke, a full-blown batch of hysterical giggles. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he gasped out, shaking off his laughter and sobering. “I simply found a spell to cast on him to make him agree with everything I say—it proved quite useful, actually. I used it on everyone here.”

Ahhhh. All the pieces clicked into place then. The reason everyone at Littleton was so excited about moving. The reason Mr. Rush was so dead-eyed when he’d nodded yes to her question about selling. The crazy response Arnie had given about being an adult who could make his own decisions.

“So you cast a spell, attacking their free will and coercing them into giving up their homes?” The son of a bitch. If she lived to see Rick again, she was going to so rub his face in this.

“I did!” he shouted with glee. “I was sorry to see what that did to Mr. Rush. I think I got a little heavy-handed with the do-as-I-say spin I put on it, but he’s still alive, right?’

“The spell was what made Mr. Rush have the stroke?”
Damn him.

“Alas, ’twas. And I worried something fierce when you went to visit him. I thought surely he’d find a way to tap out his distress, write it on a piece of paper, but it seems I’m better than I thought.”

Oh God. Avis was sick. So sick.

Sucking in a breath of air, Poppy said, “Which brings us back to this moment. Why are you doing this, Avis? What does Avis Mackland gain from all of this?”

Avis jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Well, like I said, I made a deal. I give these spirits the freedom they so crave at just the right time, when the blood moon is at its peak on Samhain, and summon them by pushing all four of these pretty cornerstones together. Then I offer them your soul, and I become the most powerful wizard of all. No one will ever mock my lack of power again.
No one
.”

Mock his power? So he was just power hungry? What motivated that greed? What could he prove with this power? Who did he want to impress?

Yeah, Poppy. Who do men like Avis usually want to impress with their power?

A woman.

“Who made fun of poor Avis’s lack of power?
Was it your girlfriend
?” she antagonized as a surge of relief flowed through her. She didn’t know where it came from or why, but it was like someone had injected life back into her.

And now, she wanted his balls.