Magic Rising (37 page)

Come to think of it, many people who worked closely with Smythe had a deep-seeded hatred for Deirdre. He’d heard them talking, their conversations matching his too closely to be coincidence.

The police sirens grew louder and he knew this wasn’t the time to piece together the last few months.

“I’ve got to get out of here.”

* * * *

“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Deirdre looked at the gun still pointed at her. “Why are you here?” She had a bad feeling about this but after all the madness, she didn’t trust herself.

Smythe answered her question with another. “What happened with Tamara? It’s like she’s not connected with the family anymore.”

“How did you know where I was?” She watched his movements. He didn’t seem to be in a trance like so many of Tamara’s other accomplices. Whatever he was doing, was of his own free will. “Well?”

He could’ve heard it over the radio but she didn’t trust the look in his eyes. It wasn’t the soft way he’d gazed at her over dinner. This time he looked annoyed with her presence.

He’s the source.
The thought came through hard like a lightning bolt
. He’s one of Colinster’s men.

“I thought you were going to switch teams.” He cocked the gun and held his finger on the trigger. Noah Smythe was ready to kill her and she was having trouble gaining the will to fight.

“You knew about that?”

She took a step back, searching for a weapon, but those had been taken from her at Haas’ place. There wasn’t much to hide behind either. Odds were she could take him, but he’d get in at least one good shot in the process.

“You’re the source.” Deirdre repeated the foreign thoughts in her head. “You reported my movements to Colinster. You knew I had Shope. Did you arrange his death? Is that how he ended up with a gun and managed to get out of a police car?”

“That’s right. We couldn’t have that Shope bastard coming after his daughter or making a scene. Once we had Tamara, she helped confirm that you were indeed from the original Stone House. Colinster was thrilled to hear about his daughters. He wants both of you in his fold.”

“There are probably a dozen cops at Haas’ place right now. That is over. There’s no way he can resurrect Stone House here.”

“I felt Tamara slip from our grip an hour ago and knew something had gone wrong. I guess I underestimated you, Dragonfly.” He’d never called her that before. “I guess even your daddy underestimated you. Now he can’t control either daughter.”

The mansion, the guards, it all made sense. They might not have been working for Tamara but guarding her in case she rebelled from whatever drugs or magic they’d used to control her.

“It was all neat.” Smythe stepped closer. “Tamara has magic in her veins and with our line dwindling, we needed her. Unfortunately, her daughter had to go. We tracked her to the father. That’s when Tamara hired you. She was trying to bring you in to protect her from us but by the time you answered her call, she’d been turned. She heard you’d escaped Stone House. That was all she needed. Of course Colinster needs all the magic blood he can summon. It would’ve been easier if you’d killed the mixed child too, been one of us. You would’ve bred wonderful children.”

She’d never seen Smythe so alive. His face practically glowed with confidence. There had never been a feeling of evil, no auras she thought she should avoid, until now. He’d kept himself subdued somehow blocking what little instincts she had about people. Not even when he’d kissed her, had she suspected his true nature. Now it came through like velvet, covering the world around him in a power she’d never felt before.

“You’re a monster.”

“Don’t sound so noble. Haven’t you wondered why half the police force hates you? Even Ryan wanted you dead. I did that you stupid whore. I can make everything in your life hell.” He came closer, and she backed towards the street. “This is your last chance to join me of your own free will.” He grinned and it reminded her of a shark. “I want to secure my position and I can do that by breeding with you. Join me.”

“Never.”

Smythe continued speaking but this time his words sounded strange, not English, something exotic that she couldn’t place. The air charged around her, dancing over her skin like needles. She looked down and saw a design in chalk, written on her driveway. She hadn’t seen it when she parked.

He’s trying to trap you like he had Tamara. He wants you
.

The thoughts came on some sort of counter spell but Deirdre ignored the flood of dark arts that she never wanted or understood. There was only one way she’d handle this and if that got her shot, so be it.

The gun stayed on her, preventing her from moving. Then out of the darkness came Snowball. Her white fur flashed as she sunk her claws into Smythe’s leg. He howled, forcing him to point the gun down while dealing with the tiny attacker. This was her chance. She came forward, closing the distance. Snowball ran from Smythe’s legs.

“I won’t go back to that life.”

She aimed a side kick to his chest. Something was wrong. All at once it felt like she was moving in slow motion. Gravity pulled at her and the air felt like butter, slimy and hard to move through. Then there was Smythe, his mouth working in that evil chant.

He grabbed her, pushed her leg down, reached out, and grabbed her in mid air. She’d never seen anything like it. Then she was face to face with Noah. The smile she’d once found so sexy, the twinkling eyes, took on the air of the grim reaper. He looked hungry.

This is it. We’re about to be his. Try. Try to counter the spell. Don’t give up.

She wanted to scream, tell him to shut up, but nothing worked. Deirdre wasn’t even sure she was breathing. He opened his mouth, letting mist like icy breath, come out. It touched her lips, and she found that it was more than mist. This shit had weight.

Please, no.

At once, pain filled her. The touch was cold and consuming. It slid past her lips, touching something deeper inside that pulled up. Whatever he was doing, it felt like a tooth being pulled extracted, except this one had roots from her toes, to her groin, her heart and her head. Nerve endings seared and she thought she could hear parts of her being torn away. The sound reminded her of a weed being ripped from the ground. Inside, something broke loose, following that icy mist back to the owner and she knew her soul would follow soon.

A gun fired, loud, and Deirdre fell to the ground. Her knees scraped against the pavement, but the feeling on her skin had stopped. Her essence snapped back, stinging like a stretched rubber band when it popped back into place. She was either dead or out of Smythe’s reach.

For a minute she lay on the ground. Her vision filled with pin pricks of light against a black backdrop. Slowly her sight cleared bringing her driveway into focus. When she looked up, she’d expected to find Smythe readying another shot, something to send her into oblivion. Instead, he was on the ground, a perfect red dot between his open eyes.

“What the…”

“I got him.”

Deirdre rolled over and saw Ryan Farmer at the edge of her drive, still standing in the road. His car was parked near the next driveway, probably in an attempt to sneak up on the scene. He lowered his gun, holstering it and continued up with his hands raised in front of him.

“I don’t mean you any harm. I don’t think I ever did.” He stopped next to her and reached down, offering her his hand. “I’m sorry about everything that happened. I don’t know what got into me. I’ve never …”

“It’s okay. I think we’ve both made some mistakes.”

She took his hand, wondering how much of his previous behavior was Smythe and how much was Ryan Farmer. It was odd that he’d found any connection between her and Stone House. That must’ve been part of the set up, some little step Smythe induced.

“Does this mean you’ll stop trying to kill me?” She got to her feet, with his help, and noticed that he appeared as exhausted as she was. He must’ve gone through hell too.

“I never…It doesn’t matter. When the police make the report, I’ll be locked away. I’ve tried to kill you, kidnapped you, not to mention nosing into parts of your life that I never belonged in.”

“What brought you back to my house?”

He shrugged. “Gut feeling. I have a police scanner in my car and several people were calling for Smythe but he wasn’t answering. I played a hunch and thought he might be here. I also realized that I really only started hating you after working with Smythe. I think he did something to me.”

Deirdre glanced over in Smythe’s direction, expecting to see those open dead eyes staring at her. Instead she saw Smythe rising to his feet. The red dot still between his eyes like a quaint religious symbol but his face had changed.

“Amazing what you can do to the frontal lobe.” Smythe spoke but his voice sounded different. “So very amazing.”

She glanced down at Farmer’s gun. It was a .22. The bullet hadn’t exploded through Smythe’s brain, but lodged itself somewhere in the inner workings. The man lived.

Farmer stood there, gun in hand, not moving. The sight too horrible for him to register and the shock might get them both killed. She almost reached for the gun in his hand when Smythe spoke again, catching her off guard.

“You’re free from me Deirdre. I hope I left you with a little knowledge.” He reached up and wiped away a bit of blood dripping down his nose. “I guess one scar between the eyes is better than what I had.” He turned his face from side to side. “Not bad but I’ll need to grow the hair out. It’s much too short.”

“Niam?” For a second Deirdre thought she’d faint. “Is that you?”

“It worked out well in the end.” He looked at her and winked. “I prefer to have a cock instead of hole any day. Having your body would’ve robbed me of some of my greatest pleasures.” He turned and started to walk away. “Besides, you’re not much fun.”

“Wait. What happens now?”

He laughed and the sound was very Niam. Pausing, he glanced back at her. “You work on dealing with the knowledge I’ve left you and I will try to do the same. I’m afraid you’ve made as much of an impact on me, as I have you.” He looked down at his hands and trembled. “I don’t think I’ll be troubling you, not at least until I understand all these memories and things you copied into me.” He locked eyes with her and touched his lips. “At least I know what kissing you is like. I wonder what else I can learn from this Smythe. Too bad you didn’t sleep with him.”

“It’s over?”

He took a deep breath. “Nothing is ever over. Colinster is still out there. Please, remember one thing though. You aren’t responsible for your mother. I swear on all I believe in, you are not to blame.”

Niam or Smythe or whatever he was, walked away. He grew dim in the shadows, disappearing into the street of her little subdivision. She had to wonder if Niam would pick up his life or Smythe’s. She might see him at the station or he might return to his recruits in the mountains.

“What in the hell just happened?”

Deirdre had forgotten about Farmer. “Smythe has a new guest taking up residence in his body.” She supposed the truth would work, although it seemed to make Farmer look very pale. “His body had an accident.”

A cop car barreled down the road, siren off but lights flashing. Deirdre imagined one of her neighbors had called them after hearing the shot. They’d probably looked outside and saw a man lying in her driveway. As it was she could see curtains move, but no one dared turn on a light or come outside. People were bound to look at her strangely after this. She hoped she didn’t get a memo about it stuck in her door from the home owners association.

The cop parked on the road and opened his car while pulling out a pistol. He moved closer but hid behind his open car door while shouting at them. Farmer complied with the officer’s instructions, along with Deirdre, both dropping to their knees with their hands raised. It reminded Deirdre of some perverse cult and she laughed wondering if the guy with the gun would ask them to bow next.

“My name is Deirdre Flye. This is my home. Detective Ryan Farmer arrived just in time to save my life.” She turned her head and looked at Farmer. “That’s all anyone needs to know. This whole time, you were trying to save my life. I’ll drop the complaint and no more needs to be said.”

“I never liked vigilantes, but maybe there are some cases cops shouldn’t get involved in.” He smiled, looking odd with his hands still over his head. “Thank you for keeping me out of jail.”

“No problem, oh, and for the record, I only do security.” She didn’t want to get in the habit of dealing with cults or magic spells. “I prefer annoyed rich people to this shit.”

“Did I hear you say a guy was taking up residence in Smythe or with Smythe?”

“You don’t want to know, Ryan.”

The officer approached, gun drawn. “ID please.” After checking both their driver’s licenses, he lowered the weapon. “Anyone want to explain what happened tonight?”

“Not really.” Deirdre spoke at the same time Farmer said, “No.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Deirdre sat in her office, staring at the calendar on the wall where the upcoming jobs were penciled in the little squares. A week had gone by since the fiasco at Tamara’s house. Tamara had even called her from the hospital, telling Deirdre how grateful she was to be free of Colinster’s influence. At least she’d lived, although most of Tamara’s memories during that time were a blur.