Chapter 56 - Staged
Abigail made her way slowly down the stairs into the Templum with Number Six behind her, telling her about the wolves. Ethedra waited above her well with her vortex held between her hands. She was staring into it, her face lit strangely.
Sage was still unconscious in the cage, and had been for three days, which was how long her magically controlled period lasted. Abigail would be rousing her soon. The two dirty wolves were still stuck in the hole and Abigail needed them to stay stuck there a little longer.
“We confiscated da truck, Missus,” Number Six was saying. “Had ta tow it, couldn't get into it.”
Abigail snorted. “That vodvod thinks he's so smart.”
Abigail reached the bottom of the stairs and hurried to Ethedra’s well, her face expectant.
“They’re near the north wall,” Ethedra said, her eyes on the vortex.
“They’ll find the way out!” Abigail turned and grabbed Number Six by the shirt. “Cut the power to the elevator!”
Number Six patted her hand. “They don’t know the code.”
Abigail shook him. “They’ll hack it!”
Number Six held his hands up. “Ayuh, Missus.” He went to the electronics panel and threw an entire row to the off position. “That’ll hold ‘em.”
Abigail turned back to Ethedra. “Kiki?”
“She’s back to hunting.”
She pointed at Number Six again. “Sage’s apartment?”
He produced a printout of all the times Sage’s apartment had been checked by the vod that day. They’d knocked on the door at 6 a.m. and again at 4 p.m. They weren’t expected again till almost midnight.
Abigail muttered thickly to herself as she set about the next phase of her plan.
“It has to be enough; it has to work. Just a couple more hours.” She went to the well overflowing with mouse eyeballs.
Using vvyst, she lifted the eyeball vat up and set it aside, then peeked down into the well.
Conri Bloom lay curled at the bottom, in perfect magical hibernation, which was so easy with bearen.
She’d snatched him three days ago because he was key to her plans.
She hurried to the table and picked up his cellular phone, forcing it to unlock, looking through his dozens of recent calls and texts.
She went back to Ethedra’s well, holding up the phone. “One fheargacha, if you please. Only for a moment.”
Ethedra rolled her eyes, but handed it over, dropping it between worlds.
Abigail caught it and put it on her right index finger.
She scrolled through the texts until she found several from Conri’s brother, Bruin, who was out of the country.
She read through them carefully to see if any indicated he was coming home.
“Yes!” she shouted to Ethedra when she found what she wanted. “Bruin the big fat BOGI is rushing home to save his brother, and he’ll bring his mate with him, and his mate will bring her shiftsegen…”
“Which soon will be yours,” Ethedra said.
“Mine! Mine! Damn straight!” Abigail looked up at the shiftsegen encased in metal and magic and hanging above their heads. If it heard, it gave no indication.
Abigail returned to checking messages. Dirty vodvod Troy Burbank had texted seven times. Filthy vodvod Canyon Wheeling had texted once. Police dispatch had called twice and left several messages. Fire dispatch had called 16 times.
Abigail muttered to herself, becoming impatient as the messages grew less and less relevant to her business.
She pressed the fheargacha to the texts and muttered several spells.
Living power, like tiny iridescent spiders, skittered out of the fheargacha, down her finger, to the phone screen and merged with it.
Recent texts and messages disappeared. The living power would block all calls and messages in or out for several hours…
except to or from Sage, and then when the living power was about to die, it would explode itself, taking all electronics with it, essentially turning Conri’s phone into a brick.
Finished, Abigail put the phone down, then pulled another phone out of her pocket—Sage’s phone.
Sage had dozens of messages from Reed Marion—Sage’s friend who’d already been bitten by dirty vodvod Troy Burbank. Abigail read each one. Reed was looking for Sage. Reed had something important to tell Sage. Reed hoped Sage was ok. Blah, blah, blah.
Deleted, all of them.
Abigail played a message from an unknown number.
Her heart lurched in her chest, as the deep male voice spoke.
“Miss Greene, this is Trevor Burbank, lieutenant with the Serenity Police Department. We have reason to believe you’re in danger.
Contact me immediately please. Call this number or call the police department. ”
“Dear deae, give me strength,” Abigail muttered.
There were dozens of messages from family, and Abigail deleted all of them, except one from Mina saying good things about Reynard.
There were also several messages from Mugshots saying Sage was fired and Abigail left those, but everything else had to go.
Abigail pressed the point of the fheargacha onto the screen and said her spells.
More tiny spiders skittered, and most of the messages disappeared, and Sage’s phone was magically limited for a few hours, and then it would internally combust, never to start again.
Abigail dropped Sage’s phone to the table and grabbed Conri’s again. She found his text messages to Sage and read through them, picking one to emulate. She typed a message and pressed send.
Hey chick, chick, chickee. I have some super important and urgent news about you-know-what! I know who was responsible. Where are you? Can I come to your place?
Sage’s phone chimed. Abigail dropped Conri’s on the table.
She returned Ethedra’s fheargacha, then went to the altar where she had six memory threads and placeholders laid out.
She’d already taken memories from Conri and given him false memories to replace them.
Each stolen memory and fake memory was represented here.
She picked up a pre-prepared strand and molded it, speaking into it, telling Conri what he’d done all weekend, and leaving him the memory of texting Sage.
When it was done, she tore the thread like it was string cheese, then stuffed the torn thread into her cask's mouth.
The fox pelt slurped it up like a strand of spaghetti and she patted its little head.
Abigail took the rest of the memory thread to the well that held Conri and stood over it, sending vvyst down in a stream.
The stream grabbed Conri by the head, and she sent the memory thread down it until it entered his head through his ear.
The thread, combined with the drink from Ethedra and suggestions from Abigail would ensure the next time Conri saw Sage, he would claim her.
Abigail used the vvyst like a microphone in Conri’s ear.
“When you see the bare shoulder, you thrust and strike, you aim and bite.”
“Thrust and strike,” the big male rumbled from the bottom of the well. “Aim and bite.”
Abigail nodded sharply, then sent more vvyst down to the male and hauled him up the well feet first. Once he was at the top, she placed him upright and vvyst held him that way. His head lolled. She shoved his wallet into one back pocket and his phone into the other.
She went to her fomenter and opened it. Inside was a mud jar containing the potion she’d gotten from Ethedra. She took it out and sniffed it, smelling power, control, and contrivances, all mixed up with nutmeg, coriander, star anise and sweet flag. Good and strong.
She poured three-quarters of the potion into a water bottle, capped it, then handed it to Conri, over his renqua on his left shoulder, so he thought it came from Rhen herself.
Abigail mimicked a soft lilting feminine voice and said, “Drink this, it will soothe you.”
Conri uncapped the water and drank heartily. Vvyst puffed around his body for a moment.
After half was gone, Abigail, in that same lilting voice, said. “Stop. Drink the rest the moment you get to Sage’s apartment.”
He spoke, his tone wondering. “Drink the rest the moment I get to Sage’s apartment.”
“Leave the bluff and drive toward Chicago. Avoid home, avoid all family, all friends, all wolven and bearen. You’ll get a text or a call from Sage.
At that moment, turn around and go to her apartment.
Her text means she wants you, Conri Henri Conrad Bloom, to bite her, to take her, to claim her. She’s your mate.”
“Bite her,” Conri mumbled. “Take her… claim her. My… my…m—”
“Your mate,” Abigail hissed.
“My… mate.”
Satisfied, Abigail dropped a temporary hood of vvyst over Conri’s head.
“Number Six!” Abigail called.
He came from behind the altar. “Yes, Missus.”
“It’s time. I’ve already glamoured his truck, and yours to get you both past the vod.
This has to happen now, and it can’t happen up the bluff— there’s too many foxen protections layered everywhere.
She’ll go to her place downtown, and with any luck, they’ll still be rutting when the vod show up looking for her. ”
“Yes, Missus.”
“I’ll follow Sage. Who’s driving me?”
“Number Twelve, Missus. He’s waiting for you.”
Number Six grabbed Conri by the front of his shirt and led him up the concrete stairs.
With Sage’s phone and purse in hand, Abigail hurried to the rotation room and sat in the chair that magically took her to the treatment suite, a few miles away. The room spun around her with a whizzing sound.
It stopped. She stood and left the rotation room into the treatment suite, then into the room where the circus cage was. The metal scent of menstrual blood and urine was strong. Sage lay where Abigail had left her, barely breathing, in a pool of her own fluids.
“Gross,” Abigail muttered, feeling no pity for Sage. Sage would choose the vod over her family, that was clear, and that could not be allowed. The vod were fools, all of them constantly misusing their divine gifts.