Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
N umber Two Mellen Street was a nineteenth-century house in the asymmetrical Italianate style. The front door was to the right, and the top step was covered with an ornately carved, wooden canopy. The bay window on the left was duplicated right above itself on the second floor, and the overhanging eaves were supported by scrolled wooden brackets.
It was not well lit. There was no signage out front. It was only when Stella climbed the front steps and spotted the credit card logo stickers on the door that she felt assured the building was commercial and no longer a private residence.
She turned over her shoulder and took in her motley crew.
Jun and Antoinette were the most conspicuous in their respective bright white lab coat and shimmering sheath. They practically glowed in the moonlight.
Abby had shrouded herself in her red, hooded cloak, and she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve while glancing over one shoulder, then the next.
In comparison, Stryker, who was dressed the most normally—T-shirt and basketball shorts—seemed completely at ease.
Ethan, of course, was as handsome as ever, his usual charisma only enhanced by the fedora. And , Stella thought off-handedly, he was surprisingly unrumpled, given all the activity.
As for herself, Stella was currently drowning in Ethan’s pinstripe suit coat with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and the hem hanging nearly to her knees. He’d given it to her as soon as they’d left the downtown alley—both for warmth and for modesty—and while she was grateful for the extra layer, the additional volume was a bit incommodious.
“It’s an office building for sure,” she said, hugging the jacket tighter around her.
Laughter erupted from the college campus a block away, then several car doors slammed.
Abby jumped at the sound, and a few seconds later, two cars crammed full of students sped by before turning onto Mass Ave.
“Even with the broken streetlight,” Antoinette said, “I’m thinking we’re too exposed. Everyone ready to get off this sidewalk and find a back entrance to this place?”
“Just call me Little Ready Riding Hood,” Abby said, her voice sounding more jittery than Stella had ever heard it before.
Everyone looked at Abby in either confusion or groan-worthy concern for her sense of humor, then hustled around the side of the building.
At the back, Antoinette tried the door. “Locked.”
She crouched, getting eye-level with the door knob, and extended her fingers toward the lock.
“How are you going to open that?” Stella asked. “You have personal magic, not physical.”
Antoinette flicked her wrist and revealed a bobby pin. “I thought I’d do it the old-fashioned way. Ethan wanted us to go for subtlety tonight, right? Can’t exactly blow this place up.”
“Ah,” Stella said. “Very clever. Carry on.”
“Are you kidding?” Abby asked, nervously glancing over her shoulder. “It’s a- door -able.”
“What’s with you and the puns tonight?” Stella asked.
“Sorry,” Abby said. “I can’t help it. Sometimes nerves bring them out.”
Stella couldn’t really blame Abby for being nervous. Her own heart rate felt inordinately high. Still, that was seriously terrible. “That was seriously terrible.”
“Be nice,” Stryker said, chuckling. “We’ve got nothing else to do until Antoinette gets us in. I don’t see any harm in a good door pun.”
Abby shifted her weight and wrung her hands while keeping her gaze glued to Antoinette’s crouched form.
“Do you think you can do better?” Ethan quipped.
“I don’t know…” Stryker planted his feet wide and folded his arms, clearly accepting the challenge. “I’m always open to new things.”
There were a few distinct clicks from the door as Antoinette twisted the pin in the lock.
“Good one,” Ethan said. “But sorry, dude, I don’t swing that way.”
Stryker snorted. “That’s because you could never handle it.”
Stella rolled her eyes to the heavens, then, since they were already aimed that way, sent up a little prayer before muttering, “Are you getting any closer with that lock?”
There was another click—this one loud—and Antoinette tried the knob again. It turned.
Stella exhaled.
“ Et…voilà ,” Antoinette said, opening the door for them all to enter.
“Antoinette,” Ethan said, with his hand over his heart. “You are the key to our success.”
Antoinette waved them all through. “I don’t see a comedy special in any of your futures.”
Stella conjured flickering flames at the ends of her fingers and illuminated the small, dark hallway. There was barely enough room for the six of them to stand, especially with the protruding cubby-hole mailboxes that were mounted on the wall.
“If these numbered boxes are any indication,” Ethan said. “There must be four separate office spaces.”
“Only the boxes for suites one, three, and four have tenants’ names on them,” Stryker said.
“Then I’ve got a hunch which one’s Hurley’s,” Stella said with just a hint of sarcasm. She checked her phone. “It’s already ten o’clock. I don’t want to leave Izzy and Jade alone with him for too long, so let’s find this office and see what’s there.”
Stella led the way as they crept down the creaking hallway to suite number two. Stella tried the knob. It was also locked, but Antoinette was already primed and ready. She had the door open in no time, or at least, no time for any more jokes.
“I hate to flip the light switch,” she said, “but…”
“Close the blinds,” Ethan said, and Stryker and Abby made short work of it.
“That’s the best we can do,” Antoinette said. “And if we’re gonna be quick, we’re gonna need to see better than a few candle flames can give us.”
Stella agreed, and Jun flipped on the overhead light.
“All righty then,” Ethan said, his eyebrows rising.
Stella understood his surprise. She’d somehow had the idea that an attorney’s office—even a secret satellite one—would be neater. Organized. A polished mahogany desk, maybe one with a brass name plaque and a small bowl of mints.
This one on the other hand… It had the big desk, the built-in bookshelves, and the patterned Oriental rug, but the place was a disaster.
“Do you think someone beat us here and tossed the place?” Antoinette asked.
“No,” Stella said. “It’s just organized chaos.” And she should know. She was the master.
“How can you be sure?” Stryker asked.
“See that?” Stella pointed to a ballpoint pen that was resting atop a mess of papers three inches thick. “If this place were tossed, that pen would be on the floor.”
Stella picked up one of the pieces of paper from the desk and quickly read through it. It had something to do with a real estate investment in Delaware. As far as she could tell, it had nothing to do with her father, but what did she know?
She jerked her head toward the file cabinet. The strangest scent of magic was coming from inside one of the drawers. It had a sweetness akin to rotting apples, but a metallic sharpness that hinted at pain.
“What is it, Red?” Ethan asked.
“Smell that?” she asked.
“Magic?” Jun asked.
Stella nodded. “It’s coming from in there, and whatever it is, it’s protected.”
All heads turned toward the file cabinet.
“You mean there’s a ward on it?” Antoinette asked.
“Something like that,” Stella said. “Different though.”
Ethan slipped his hand into hers, and they crossed the room toward the metal cabinet. There were four drawers. One of them had to contain something useful.
Abby groaned. “Of course, the information we’re after would be locked up even more.”
“Maybe,” Ethan said.
Stella looked up at him in confusion. If she were her father—or Hurley for that matter—she’d do whatever she could to protect her secrets. The magic coming out of the file cabinet was so unusual, it could take them more time than they had to open it.
“The file cabinet could be a decoy meant to grab our attention and lead us off target,” Ethan explained. “We’ll address the cabinet. The rest of you, go through everything on the desk, the floor, the bookshelves. Read every piece of paper.”
“ Every piece of paper?” Abby asked in a high-pitch squeak. “There has to be thousands of them.”
“Everything you can,” Ethan amended. “Check for other hiding places too.”
“What exactly are we looking for?” Abby asked.
“For starters,” Stella said, “any names you recognize. Anything to do with Salem. We’ll go from there.”
They all picked an area of the office. Stella and Ethan put their attention toward the file cabinet.
“I do think the information is in there,” Stella whispered to Ethan.
“We could go through all the work of unraveling the spell, only for the drawers to be empty,” he said.
“One way to find out,” she said.
“True.” Ethan raised his hands to the cabinet and red ribbons of magic unfurled from his palms.
Stella closed her eyes and bowed her head, feeling the direction of the spell he was creating, then that of the spell standing in their way, which was one of rebar, reinforced concrete, shrapnel, and landmines. It felt like overkill.
Sure, she understood that her father would want to protect whatever information he’d given Hurley, but shouldn’t that level of protection have also been on the door to his office?
She held out her hands and let her own magic unfurl. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know the blue ribbons of her magic were waving through the air, searching for Ethan.
She felt it the moment her magic found his. As always, there was a blooming sensation in her chest, then the invisible, odorless, tasteless swell of aether as their magic paired and intensified.
The perfume of old books—leather and dry paper—and the fresh salt of high tide drifted toward her. Then suddenly, it turned, and she sensed the muddy primordial aroma of its retreat. It left behind the image of live grenades left lying on a beach.
She cocked her head to the side and peeked through her lashes up at Ethan.
His forehead was furrowed, and the corners of his mouth turned down.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I can’t smell magic like you can, but I can feel it, and this spell feels very much alive. It has a pulse. And I get the uneasy feeling that unraveling it is going to unleash something nasty.”
“That’s what it feels like to me, too,” Stella said. But they had to somehow get inside the file cabinet. She wondered if they should just take the whole thing with them. It couldn’t be that heavy.
Ethan must have had the same thought because he put his hand to the top of the cabinet and pushed. It didn’t move. It didn’t even rock.
“What did he do?” Ethan asked. “Load this thing up with bricks?”
There was a thud from somewhere in the hallway outside the office, and Ethan whirled.
“Someone’s here,” Jun whispered. “Douse the lights.”
Abby jumped up from where she was kneeling on the floor. Papers fluttered from her hands like autumn leaves as she slapped the light switch, throwing them into darkness.
Stella and Ethan fell into crouches. Everyone else held their positions like figures in an after-hours wax museum. Stella’s pulse pounded in her ears.
“Mr. Fox?” said an unfamiliar male voice. “Yeah. Sorry to call so late, but I came back to the office and?—”
Silence, except for a few footsteps coming toward Hurley’s office.
“Yeah. I forgot a file on my credenza. Anyway that’s not what I’m calling about. The back door was left unlocked again.”
More silence. More footsteps.
Stella held her breath.
“Right. Well, the chiropractor was the last to leave. She’s making a habit out of it, and I’ve got a lot of sensitive client files in my office. I can’t?—”
The footsteps stopped right outside Hurley’s door, and Stella grabbed onto Ethan’s wrist. Should she do something? Maybe a freezing spell so they could all get out of there without being discovered? But then what would they do about the file cabinet?
“So, you’ll talk to her?” The man started walking again, and to Stella’s relief, he passed right by Hurley’s door and his footsteps climbed the creaking staircase that led to the second floor.
“Should we—?” Abby whispered.
“ Shhh ,” Stella said.
They all held their positions for the next several minutes until the man came back down, headed out the rear door, and locked it.
The collective exhale in Hurley’s office was audible, then they returned to their search, this time leaving the lights off.
“Antoinette, Abby,” Stella said. “Get over here.”
There was a bit of fumbling in the darkness before they reached Stella’s side.
“What’s happening?” Stryker asked, sounding alarmed.
He’d been kneeling in the corner of the office, going through the books that were stacked on the built-in shelves. Upon hearing Abby’s name, he was on his feet.
“That’s the problem,” Stella said. “We’re not sure what’s happening. When we open this drawer, I think it’s going to bite back.”
“How so?” Abby asked, her voice shaking.
“It feels like it’ll explode out at us.”
“Shit,” Antoinette muttered.
“We need to push back,” Stella said. “Keep its defensive magic contained while you unlock the drawers.”
“Me?” Antoinette asked.
“You’re the one with the bobby pin,” Stella said.
“I can conjure a wall of water to slow down any projectiles,” Ethan said, “but I doubt it will be enough.”
“You want me to push back with sound waves?” Abby asked, and the nervous energy rolling off of her raised the small hairs on the back of Stella’s neck.
“I want you to push back with whatever you’ve got,” Stella said.
“Are you going to use fire?” Stryker asked, clearly intending his question for Stella. “Because…just a reminder…this whole place is full of paper.”
Stella shook her head. “Fire won’t do anything useful here, but I’ve got a flattening spell. It’s basically another kind of compression. Between the three of us, we can push it back.”
“Are you ready?” Ethan asked.
“Ready,” Stella and Abby said together.
Ethan dropped into a squat, then turned his palms toward the floor, curled his fingers inward, and pulled up slowly like he was doing a dead lift, straightening his legs. With every inch, he raised a thick curtain of bubbling water between them and the file cabinet.
When he was done, Abby clapped her hands over her head, then pushed outward toward the cabinet. The vibration of her magic was there—powerful and strong—but directed with pinpoint accuracy so none of it leaked back on them.
“Now you,” Ethan said.
“Antoinette,” Stella said. “Be quick. The magic feels like it’s easily tripped. Almost like it wants to be tripped.”
Like it wants to destroy.
A cold sweat broke out on Stella’s forehead. She took a deep breath, then held up her hands and said, “ Levelen .”
Her spell hovered there in the air, ready to flatten whatever got past Ethan and Abby’s counteroffensives. With any luck, the magical shrapnel would be flattened like a pancake.
Antoinette inserted her bobby pin into the lock on the top drawer and started a countdown. “Ten, nine, eight?—”
“Hurry,” Ethan said. “This shit is heavy.”
“One.” Antoinette twisted the pin, and the file cabinet drawers flew open—as did a shit-ton of magic that blew Abby backward across the desk to the far side of the room.
Stryker caught her before she hit the floor.
“Shit!” Ethan leaned into his magic, his muscles straining as he held back most of the barrage of skin-slicing magic that left a cold metallic taste on Stella’s tongue.
She closed her eyes, turned her head, but kept her hands up. The few bits of shrapnel that made it through hit her flattening spell dropped to the floor like tiny bits of lead confetti.
The whole thing probably made a terrible racket, but Stella felt as if she were in a vacuum, everything moving silently and in slow motion.
When the dust finally settled—literally and figuratively—she lowered her arms and took a shaky breath. Ethan did the same.
Jun unwrapped his arms from around his head.
“Well?” Stryker asked from the far side of the office. He had turned his back to the explosion, and he was using his body to shield Abby from harm. “Is there anything inside?”
Antoinette rose from her crouch.
“I don’t know.” Stella took one hesitant step closer to the file cabinet and looked down. The bottom two drawers were clearly empty, but the second drawer…
She wrapped her fingers around its handle and glanced nervously up at Ethan.
He was looking down at her.
Then, together, they peered inside.