Chapter 9 #2
I sighed in his embrace, closing my eyes, drained and a little impressed by my orc for his ability to calm me so quickly. “How’d you learn to do that?”
“Learned it from an elder. He had to do that to Marcus a few times growing up. With Marcus being used as one of our hitmen and being so young, he’d get out of control from time to time. A lot of aggression for him at that young an age. Me, too. Helps to recenter you.”
“It did. Thank you.”
Harris kissed the top of my head. “Are you okay? What did he do to you? What did he say?”
“I have no idea what he wanted, but he knew my name. He definitely wants something from me. He’ll be back if another portal opens up in here. I know it.”
“Why were you in here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said into his chest, feeling a tad smothered.
He loosened his grip on me. “You should have woken me up.”
I looked up at him. “I didn’t want to be inconsiderate.”
“It’s too dangerous to worry about things like that.
I’m going to put in a call to my witch, Kaylor.
There has to be another portal mage out there who can make sure this doesn’t happen, or at least a witch who can tell when your powers are fully back if she can’t.
If this thing isn’t getting through your portals, do you think someone could force a portal open through our wards? ”
I shook my head. “I doubt it. They can’t push magic through a working ward. It’d have to be down. Unless one of your guards is letting it down and putting it back up, but I’d hope they were trustworthy.”
He pulled back and took my hand. “I’m going to rotate them all out of here.”
My eyes widened in alarm, thinking the worst. “Don’t kill them. We don’t know if any of them are behind this.”
He looked down at me with a scrunched face, seemingly offended. “I’m not a monster; there are levels to my ruthlessness. I’m just going to reassign them. I do this often when things get shaky.”
I tapped my forehead onto his chest. “I was terrified, but I should have forced answers out of him.”
“We have enough answers. He wants me dead, and he just wants you.”
I looked up at him again, and his face was twisted in annoyed anger, his mouth in a snarl.
“But why? Where does he come from? How did he find me?”
“All good questions. Let’s see if we can find someone who can give us answers.”
***
It turned out that Kaylor knew a local, powerful witch who was more of a psychic.
He was about an hour away from us by car, and we spent a quiet drive late the next morning with Harris’ new guards.
Harris really wasted no time on anything, and I had to admit, he was an impressive and effective leader, even if it was for some shady work.
The witch was not what I expected. He lived in a dark, rundown two-story house with an overgrown yard and a rusted out truck in the parking path.
It looked like no one was home, all the blinds and curtains closed.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but it wasn’t what looked like the house of a serial killer.
If Kaylor hadn’t recommended it, I would have stayed in the car.
“Stay close,” Harris stated as we walked up the cracked, dirty porch steps, most likely feeling the same as me.
“Absolutely,” I murmured in response, grabbing his now outstretched hand.
He lifted his other hand to open the ripped screen door, which looked like it was hanging off one hinge, before the front door opened.
A man who looked too large to fit through the door answered.
He was tall and wide, but not in shape. He wore a leather apron over a dingy blue shirt and dark jeans.
He appeared older, maybe in his sixties, with long, greasy white hair and an unkept white beard that touched his chest. He peered down at us with dark eyes under thick, busy brows.
“Kaylor’s friends?” he said more than asked.
Harris tightened his grip on my hand. “Yes. And you are…” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. He knew the name of the witch, but he wanted to confirm and give nothing away.
I could get behind that logic. This guy looked like he shot people who mistakenly wandered on his property. This was Florida, after all.
“Carl,” he said, unbothered as he waved us in.
I didn’t want to go inside. I felt like we could have this discussion on his dilapidated porch. Maybe I thought if we went inside, we wouldn’t be coming back out.
Carl, clearly seeing our hesitation, sighed. “I’m not going to eat you. Orc meat is bitter and elven meat is too sweet. I have the diabetes, you see.”
We looked at him in shared shock before he burst out in a barking laugh, startling me. “I’m kidding. Come on in. Sorry for my appearance. I was making a rather dangerous potion.”
Harris looked at me with a nod of confidence and led us inside.
We stepped inside and passed through what had to be a ward because my whole body tingled when I crossed into the foyer.
That wasn’t shocking, what was shocking was the inside.
Instead of the hazardous, pest infested, foul-smelling pit of hell I expected to see, we were welcomed to the scent of freshly baked cookies, and a clean, brightly decorated house with blue walls and white trimming.
When we looked back to Carl, he was now dressed in clean jean overalls and a plaid shirt underneath. His hair and beard were neater now, giving him the look of an off-duty Santa Clause.
I was confused. “I’m confused,” I said aloud.
“I don’t like visitors and I have a few enemies. Not a lot of people like to venture up to the creepy looking house,” he explained. “And my look at the door was a glamour. Only instead of making me look better, I look worse.”
Harris cocked a brow, still holding my hand tightly. “And it works?”
Carl chuckled and then waved us in the direction of his living room, off to the right. “You tell me. You both look like you’re deciding if you want to call cops about possible victims in my basement.”
I certainly didn’t disagree with that but as I looked at the inviting sitting room, his excuse didn’t seem too unbelievable. I looked up to Harris who was already looking down at me as if waiting for my okay. I smiled at him and nodded.
Harris looked back at Carl who was eyeing us with a patient smile. “I might have to do this myself.”
Carl led us to sit down, nodding. “It really works. Help yourself to some tea and oatmeal cookies.”
We sat down on the couch, his offerings arranged on a dark wood coffee table in front of us.
He took one of two seats across from us before pouring the tea into the cups.
It felt like visiting a grandparent’s house.
Maybe he really was Santa on vacation. Stranger things could happen.
“So, Kaylor filled me in on your troubles. You have a lot going on.”
Harris accepted the teacup he passed to him and sniffed it. “What’s in this?”
“It’s kava tea with some additional drops of a solution to help my magic connection to you. Kaylor is my friend; I wouldn’t kill her main employer.”
Harris gave him suspicious eyes and then tilted his head in my direction. “She’s not drinking this. Just me.”
“Then I won’t be able to help you with understanding whatever is after her.
The only other option would be for me to see it for myself.
” He looked over at me. “You can open a portal, and we can see if it comes back. Your aura is strong, but it still appears diluted. Your magic is not fully back. We can even wait for a portal to open on its own. It’s happening because the magic is drawn to you.
You are made to open portals. They are like moths, and you are flame, and, until you can control it again, it will keep happening.
Or you can suppress it again and again forever. ”
Harris frowned. “Maybe she should.”
I side-eyed him. The thought had crossed my mind, but I had to admit that having it suppressed all this time was not a good feeling.
Carl was right; I was meant to have power between the realms. Not acknowledging it actually made me itchy, and I’d just been pushing through in survival mode.
Another part of me wondered what would have happened if I had gotten past my fear and gone through the portal all those years ago to find my dad. Maybe we could have saved him earlier.
I reached over and took the cup from Harris. “I’ll think about it. Until then, I’ll drink the tea, Harris. If something happens to us, your guards will kill him.”
Carl leaned back, looking very unfazed. “Oh well, it’s been a good life.”
I gave him an apologetic face. “Sorry, I had to get gangsta on you.”
I ignored Harris’s side-eye.
“I understand the hesitancy. It’s up to you both to decide what you’re comfortable with. After all you’ve been through, I don’t blame you.
I nodded and looked down at the brown liquid in the cup. “So, this will help?”
“Drink down the tea, and then I’ll be able to hold your hands and get a sense of all that’s surrounding you.”
I whispered a quiet spell over the liquid that I’d learned right after the death curse because my trust level was below basement level. I took a sip of my tea, happy that it wasn’t too hot, so I could gulp it down and get it over with.
Harris swore before taking his tea. “You should have let me drink first,” he grumbled.
I shrugged. “I just did a poison check spell. I have magic, remember? You might not believe this, but I can be pretty useful.”
He rolled his eyes. “When did I imply you weren’t?”
“It might have been the fifteen years of not talking to me to protect me that led me to believe that.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know you’re useful, but being on guard like this is not how I wanted you to spend your life with me.”
I looked up at him, and I could see by his face and tone his sincerity. Realistically, I knew this, but I also knew how controlling he could be and decided it was my job to remind him that he didn’t have to make all the decisions about our life together.