Chapter 2 #5
As my protective spell formed around me, magic stirred in the bedroom to my right.
It had the same dark feel as the stuff I’d sensed in the lane before the shit had hit the fan and led to one vital question—were Francesca and Marnee in there with it?
Or had they gone home with the men in the BMW, and whoever lurked in that bedroom now was preparing a little welcome home surprise?
I walked on warily, making my way around the dining table and cautiously approaching the door. The caress of energy grew, and while I had no idea what spells were being cast, it felt strange. Very strange.
Which did seem to be the theme of the night.
As I reached for the door handle, the magic surged again, its force now so strong, reddish sparks danced across my skin and made my soul shiver.
I hesitated, fingers inches away from the handle, and leaned closer, listening for any sound, any movement that might give some clue as to what was happening in the room beyond the heavy wooden door.
Silence reigned supreme. If not for that fierce, foul wave, I would have thought the room empty.
Then the magic cut out and the sparks dancing across my skin died.
I waited, my ear still close to the door, listening for any sign of movement or life.
There was no sound, no steps, and no warning as the door was flung open and a hazy figure barreled into me, sending me flying.
I hit the carpet several yards away, my protective curtain flaring brightly as it took the brunt of the fall.
I rolled onto my hands and knees but was grabbed from behind, lifted high into the air, and thrown away like rubbish.
I hit the wall of glass hard enough to force a grunt, then slithered to the floor, my curtain pulsing under the stress of it all and my heart racing.
Who the hell was the hazy figure? What the hell was it? Human, or something else?
I had no idea, and no time to find out.
It was coming at me again.
I scrambled to my feet and flung a repelling spell at the figure. It raised a hand to bat my spell away with one of his own, the movement briefly shredding the concealing shadows to reveal a tattoo-covered forearm and chunky knuckles. Man. It was definitely a man.
And if I didn’t fucking move, he’d be on me again.
I dove to my left, hitting the carpet and coming back up onto my feet in one smooth motion. As I reached for a containment spell, movement near the front door caught my eye—the manager, coming into the room just as the door to the third bedroom opened.
There were two hazy figures here, not one.
“Run,” I yelled. “Now.”
As the manager obeyed, I flung the half-formed containment spell at the second figure.
It wouldn’t stop him, but it would at least distract him long enough for the manager to get away.
As my spell tumbled through the air, shedding spell threads left and right, I spun and ran straight at the first man.
He laughed—the sound harsh and disbelieving—then raised a fist and slammed it at my face.
He was fast; I was faster. I jumped out of its path, grabbed his arm, then opened those inner gates and let my darkness free.
She rose hard and fast, surging into his flesh, diving deep into his body, feasting on the energy few could see or feel.
It was cold and dark, but it wasn’t demonic in nature; this man, whatever else he might be, was human.
He screamed then, a sound filled with rage and fear combined, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t react, because my darkness had him in her thrall and she wasn’t letting go.
His life force flowed through me, a rich and vibrant river of power that was both energizing and healing; it was also very dangerous, because it was thick with corruption and violence, and that could stain my being if I wasn’t very careful.
To avoid that happening, I needed to channel his life into something else, just as I’d been trained, otherwise—
The thought cut off as someone wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me away from the stranger.
I yelped, but before I could react in any other way, he flung me away with such force that once again I was tumbling through the air; this time I hit the table leg hard enough for it to splinter and break.
I dropped to the floor amidst its remains, a gasp burning up my throat even as pain ripped down my spine, but I rolled onto hands and knees and scrambled out from under the table.
The shadow I’d attacked was now being supported by the other as the two of them ran for the front door.
I cast another repelling spell and threw it; it hit the shadows that hid their forms but did little more than ripple their surface.
It certainly didn’t slow the men or stop them leaving the apartment.
I pushed to my feet and ran after them. They’d gone left rather than straight ahead toward the lift, suggesting they had another means of escape. A heartbeat later, a door slammed. The stairs.... I swore and hit the earwig.
“Jack, get me help ASAP. Society, cops, High Council investigators, I don’t care. Just get them here fast.”
“Priority assistance call now going out. What’s happened?”
“Intruders in the apartment. Condition and whereabouts of the two women currently unknown. I’m going after the men.”
I ran out the door and briefly scanned the corridor, thankfully not seeing the manager.
Hopefully he’d made it into the lift and to safety rather than being taken out by a third shadow.
I went right, found the stairs, and cautiously pressed the door open.
No one jumped out at me. No shadows attacked.
I walked over to the railing and looked down. I couldn’t see either of the men and had no sense of their presence or their magic.
Then a footstep whispered through the air. The bastards had gone up, not down.
“Jack, they’re on the roof. You got anyone who can get in the air?”
“No one who can get there in time. What about Ginny?”
“Even if she has been released from hospital, she’ll likely be out of it with painkillers.”
I grabbed the railing and ran up, taking the stairs two at a time, though I already knew I was going to be too late to stop these bastards.
If they’d headed up, then they were either some kind of bird shifters—unlikely given a shifter’s energy usually looked different to a human’s—or had prepared a quick escape earlier.
There was no other reason for them to risk being trapped up there.
I reached the final flight and yanked the exit door open, but didn’t immediately run out.
The roof area directly ahead was a forest of solar panels, while aircon towers sat to my right.
The hazy figures were nowhere to be seen, but their magic was here, a dark trail of power that made my skin itch.
I eased out of the stairwell and went left, keeping as close to the wall as practical.
The density of the spell, whatever it was, was increasing, but I resisted the urge to hurry.
I might be a witch, but I didn’t have the training to counter the sheer power being raised on this rooftop.
And yet, I had this weird feeling it wasn’t their magic, even if it echoed with the same darkness that had cloaked their bodies.
I reached the corner of the building, paused briefly, then darted around. More solar panels filled the space between me and the building’s parapet. I couldn’t immediately see the two men, but as I took a step forward, the air to my right shimmered.
They were standing atop the parapet; one stepped out and disappeared downward.
The other turned, the shadows around him shifting long enough to show the salute he gave me, then he too dropped from sight.
I swore and ran through the sea of solar panels to the edge of the building.
There was no sign of them. Not in the air, not on the ground.
I hit the earwig again. “Jack, the two men just leapt off the building and disappeared.”
“Winged shifters?”
“Don’t think so. A spell was cast before they leapt, and it was a monster.”
“Some sort of transport vortex, then?”
“Possibly, though I never finished spell studies and can’t say for sure.” I turned and walked back to the stairwell. “I’ll go check the apartment and see what they were up to. You might want to call off the cavalry, given our suspects eluded us.”
“You sure? Said suspects might have left a nasty spell surprise or two.”
“Someone was definitely spelling, but I doubt it was meant to trap anyone but the two women.”
And having said that, I’d probably find myself snared in a handful of them.
“Rescinding requests for police help now,” Jack said.
I trundled down the stairs but paused once again at the apartment’s doorway, looking for any telltale signs of spells. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything, but the first stranger had certainly been up to something nasty in the bedroom, so that was the best place to start.
I tugged out another set of gloves and put them on, then got out my phone and hit the Record button; auditing was all well and good, but sometimes it was better to also have a physical record of your actions at a crime scene.
And this was a crime scene, even if none of the women were here.
I walked over to the bedroom door, which had slammed closed after the stranger had barreled through it, and warily pushed it open.
Francesca lay naked on the bed, half curled into a fetal position.
She wasn’t asleep.
She was dead.
Murdered.