Chapter 19 Mosaic of Fears #3
Koa looked up from where he’d been lovingly sharpening his stabby girlfriend. He practically salivated with anticipation, like a dog who just heard the magic word walk.
The spy eye buzzed off my shoulder and onto his, hopping around like it was excited. I half-expected it to start foaming at the mouth like, “Finally someone’s gonna commit some hands-on violence!” Judgy bitch.
Cas didn’t even glance up from his tablet, his blond hair pulled back in a messy bun that somehow still looked more put-together than my entire existence, energy completely unbothered.
“And no need to spare the witch-bitch any mercy, Ko,” I added, voice scratchy as I plopped my ass into a chair. “Got it all up here.” I tapped my temple with my middle finger for emphasis.
Koa was already halfway to the door, knife in hand.
“Can we watch your feed?” I asked mockingly, slumping dramatically in my seat. “Like a front-row ticket to Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Popcorn and all.”
In one fluid, dead-eyed movement, Koa ripped the spy eye off his shoulder and crushed it. Tiny gears and magical sparks oozed between his fingers like metal blood.
“Guess that answers that.” I blinked.
Cas didn’t even flinch. He just tossed me a legal pad and pen like a bitchy HR rep.
“Start unloading details before you pass out.”
The door slammed behind Koa. Eluned’s future was about to be violently, horrifyingly rewritten.
I almost felt sorry for her.
I managed to scribble down a few notes while fighting off the full-body comedown shakes. My brain felt like it’d been put in a blender, but adrenaline kept me moving. Sort of.
“Not much to write,” I admitted, cringing at my own penmanship. “Mommy Dearest doesn’t trust Eluned with the full plan. Smart, honestly. Her brain’s basically Fifth Circle of Hell material. If David Lynch, Stanley Kubrick, and M. Night Shyamalan had a movie baby? Boom. Eluned’s psyche.”
“Colorful.” Cas gave me a long, flat stare. “Helpful? Not especially.”
“Fine. I’ll be boring.” I exaggerated a sigh, scrawling faster.
“Arabesque siphoned Seri’s magic weekly after Papa Bell died.
Still after a crown. Still rounding up rogue wolves.
Standard evil witch nonsense.” Cas made a quiet hmm noise, and I hesitated for dramatic effect. “But here’s the fun part.”
“Are you going to do jazz hands?” He didn’t look impressed.
“YES, FUCK YOU, I AM.” I did jazz hands like I never did jazz hands before. “Arabesque stored it. Seri’s magic. In vials. Hundreds of ’em. Like a wine cellar, but instead of merlot, it’s magic. Pretty sure she’s got Papa Bell’s too. Maybe others.”
Finally, finally, Cas looked mildly impressed.
“Location?”
“Linen closet in what I’m betting is Seri’s old house. We should ask Foster how often Eluned leaves the homestead.” I massaged my temples, trying to ignore the static under my skin. “Might help narrow it down.”
Cas jotted that down calmly, then finally turned his attention to me.
“And how are you doing?”
“Huh?” I blinked.
“You look like a manticore chewed you up and spit you out. Twice.”
“Yeah, well.” I waved him off. “Telepathic deep-dives are like getting mentally curb-stomped. This is normal.”
“It’s not normal.”
“It’s my normal.”
He stared at me, back to unimpressed. I could feel the imminent lecture brewing, so I cut it off fast.
“Bro. Chill. I’m fine. I got what we needed, I’m still alive, and Koa’s about to do Witch Murder Theater. It’s a good day.”
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “reckless little shit” under his breath, and I planned on sassing him more until I realized he’d stopped listening.
His eyes were locked on his tablet. His entire demeanor shifted.
The sharp, dangerous edge of him gentled, softened.
His forefinger ghosted down the screen like he was tracing something delicate.
And I knew exactly what he was watching.
I dragged my shaky ass up and leaned over his shoulder, and there she was. Our wife. Curled in her favorite window seat, dead asleep. Sunlight catching in her curls. Surrounded by open tomes and unfinished sigils. Brumous, our sweet murder boy, at her feet like a furry bear trap.
Cas’ jaw tightened, like he was physically restraining himself from going to her.
“She drained herself, didn’t she?” I muttered. “Fighting the Red Lobster special? Little idiot.”
“Obviously, and don’t call her that.” His voice went hoarse. “But she’s safe now.”
“Yeah, safe,” I rasped. My chest ached with how much I loved her. “Why’d she go down to the lake, anyway? Coulda stayed inside. Monster wouldn’t have been able to get in.”
“Don’t know yet, but from what I pieced together, Eluned conjured an illusion of Brummy. Led her into the trap.”
“We had him with us. She knew that.” I swiped a knuckle across one eye, then surreptitiously checked to make sure there was no blood. That would’ve been a bad sign. Fortunately, my skin was clean, meaning I hadn’t busted a vessel in my brain.
Still felt like it, though.
“Again, not sure, but I think she thought we were in the lake,” Cas sighed. “Like we’d changed our plans and something happened. We’ll ask her later.”
“Yeah, let her sleep for now. Her boys are handling it.”
A scream floated up from the basement. Neither of us flinched. Some monsters showed mercy. We weren’t those monsters. Never would be.
“She doesn’t need to know.” Cas saved the library feed to his favorites folder.
“Agreed.”
Another scream, this one fainter and oddly wet, and I smiled. Ko was getting creative.
“My guy,” I smirked. “Oh, and Cas? One more thing.”
“Mmm?”
“That pet goat? Rasputin?”
“Eluned knew who Arabesque sold him to?” His voice was sharp as broken glass as he whipped his head around to stare at me. “Where is he?”
“A lie. He’s dead.”
“Shit!” He slammed his fist on the table, making monitors bounce.
“Yeah. Shit.”
Then my body also said, “Shit,” and my ass hit the floor.