Now or Never: Wizards of Nevermore (16 page)

“When’s the last time you saw your father?”

The question was asked tonelessly, but it was delivered as sharply as that knife-blade smile. Her stomach jumped as fear did the cha-cha up her spine.
Special investigator, my ass.
He had no right to be here poking around. She didn’t like the Raven mages, and she especially didn’t like Orley Ryerson. He was here to mess everything up; she knew it.

“Well?” prompted Orley.

“Last time I saw my father…
hmm
.” She put a finger to her chin and looked up, as though the sky held the answer. Then she shifted to face him and pinned him with all the hate she could muster. “Oh, yeah. That would be when he killed my mother.”

Orley’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you have proof of this supposed murder?”

“Sure. I’m the freaking CSI. Here, let me get the pictures we took of the crime scene and show you the
knife he used to slit her throat.” She tossed the sarcasm at him as if she were throwing acid. Goddess, he was such a prick. She couldn’t stand being near him. He made her skin crawl and her gorge rise.

“Careful, girl. Making such an accusation against one of our own merits a serious response from the House of Ravens.”

“Is that a threat?” she asked boldly, even though her heart was stuttering and her palms were clammy. “ ’Cause it sounds like one.”

“I’m merely sharing a fact with you, Miss Ness. You would not want the full weight of the Raven’s judgment aimed at you.”

He was scaring her, and he knew it. She couldn’t resist the impulse to swallow the knot clogging her throat. Nor could she stop herself from taking a step back. She could sense magicals, sense their magic—which was how she knew Orley had some serious juju—but she had no abilities of her own. His expression had shifted in a way that set off alarm bells. He looked as though he wanted to hurt her. The air went stagnant, and the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Orley didn’t move, but he gave her the impression he could strike at her in the blink of an eye. He was capable of melting the skin right off her bones. She wanted to call out for Ant, but her throat closed up. Besides, if she screamed for him, then Ant would know that she followed him. He’d be furious, too.

No. She’d faced assholes like Orley before. She could handle him. Happy squared her shoulders and kept her gaze steady. Her knees wobbled, but she didn’t move again. She wouldn’t let him scare her.

“Bernard was murdered,” said Orley in an oily voice. “Do you have the same hatred for the killer of your father?”

“Where’s
your
proof of this supposed murder?”

“The truth spells were designed to enact only if he had an unnatural death, which is an indisputable fact. It’s my job to find out what happened to him, and to bring his murderer to justice. You believe in justice?”

“Yeah,” said Happy. “And if someone offed his sorry ass, then he got justice. And so did the rest of us.”

“Did you kill him, Miss Ness?”

“He killed me first,” she said, her voice breaking. Tears gathered hotly in her eyes. Happy couldn’t stand another moment in this jerk-off’s presence, and she didn’t care anymore if he knew he was putting the fear of the Dark One in her. She ran, right past him, through the trees, and toward the temple. She just wanted to get away.

From him. From Ant. From everyone.

But that was the thing about running—eventually there was nowhere else to go.

At the noon meeting that took place at Ember’s tea shop, it was decided that Taylor would bring Banton’s gun to Dallas as well as do the research on its history. Gray needed to stick around for his mother’s impending arrival the next morning.

“I think Norie should go with you,” said Gray. “I think she’s the link to why the protections on the town are failing.”

Taylor glared at his friend. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“She was at the
nemeton
and the house.” Gray shook his head. “Ember and I did a quick check around the perimeter. The spells weren’t broken.”

Ember nodded. “Whatever came through was allowed inside Nevermore.”

Norie pointed to herself and shook her head fiercely. Taylor took her hand under the table and lightly squeezed. She sent him a grateful look.

“She’s not a resident,” Taylor pointed out, “so she can’t be used as an entry point.”

“Now, now,” said Ember soothingly. “Dis isn’t about hurtin’ her, Taylor. We just tryin’ to find the source.”

After a while, it was determined that Norie would go to Dallas with Taylor. Gray had theorized that removing her presence from Nevermore might confuse the Ravens who might be honing in on her, but doing so might also give Gray and Ember a chance to seal whatever portals had been opened and to reinforce protections. As an additional insurance, Ember put more protections on them, and Gray had handed over some kind of woo-woo crystal that would summon the Guardian if needed. Taylor felt all tingly from the magical “overcoat,” as Ember had called it.

No one had anything new to offer about the situation regarding Norie. The debate about the
nemeton
, the Ravens’ intentions, and Norie’s role were hashed and rehashed until theories reached the ridiculous.

“My mother might be able to give us better insight,” Gray said. “And I’ll run it past Grit, too.”

Grit was Gray’s grandfather. He was actually deceased, but he had authorized his soul to be imprinted on a book. Along with his pal Dutch, another soul-imprinted book the old man had befriended in the Great Library, Grit resided in the Calhouns’ private library. And he was still an ornery ol’ cuss.

When the meeting adjourned, Taylor pulled Norie aside. “You okay with going to Dallas with me?”

Norie nodded, and he could see the wariness in her eyes. He didn’t blame her for wanting to find some kind of safety. Still, he wasn’t exactly comfortable leaving the town behind while it endured yet another crisis, and this one appeared to be even worse than what they’d gone through in March. But if Norie’s presence really was the cause of the Ravens’ being able to get through Nevermore’s borders, then it was probably best that they get her out of town, at least until Gray could determine for sure what was allowing demonic ghosts and evil wizards into town. Still, it irked him to admit there wasn’t a whole helluva a lot he could contribute. What needed to be done in Nevermore required magic. At least in Dallas, he could protect Norie and get Banton’s gun secured right and proper. Gray had already called ahead to the Dragon embassy and made the arrangements.

“It takes about three hours or so to get to Dallas,” said Taylor, “so we should probably get going.”

Norie gave two thumbs-up.

She wore clothes borrowed from Lucinda, who was also a slim woman, but the T-shirt and jeans looked baggy on Norie’s too-thin frame. Taylor decided they’d hit a mall, too, and get her some decent clothing. There was no reason she had to walk around looking like a little girl playing dress-up. Then again, the alternative
was for her to go naked. For an uncomfortable moment, that image stuck inside his head, along with the number of things he could do to a naked Norie.…Then he felt like an asshole and tried to scrub the porn out of his mind.

Sweet Mother Goddess. He needed to knock that shit off. He was Norie’s protector, not her lover, and she deserved a lot more respect.

He said their good-byes to the others and then guided Norie to the battered SUV. He opened the door and helped her inside. She squeezed his hand in thanks and then put on her seat belt.

In no time at all, they were headed out of town.

“Not much in the way of radio stations out this way,” he said apologetically. “I’ve got some CDs in the glove box, if you want to pick something to listen to.”

He kept his eyes on the road, but he heard her rummaging around. Finally, she picked one and slid the silver disc into the player.

Seconds later, he recognized the opening strains of Carlos Santana’s “Black Magic Woman.” He glanced at Norie. She looked back at him and grinned. He saw the sparkle in her eye and was glad she still had a sense of humor.

They arrived at the Dragon embassy a little after four p.m. They found a spot in front, fed the meter, and then walked up a hundred marble steps to get to the entrance. With his Dragon-issued ID and the paperwork
from Gray, they were allowed inside. A woman with graying hair, thick glasses, and an unfortunate penchant for wearing plaid led them down a hallway and into a lushly appointed study. Or maybe it was just a fancy waiting room. Taylor couldn’t really put a name to it. The lady gestured for them to enter and said nothing at all, barely offering them a glance as she left.

“Nice to meet you, too,” muttered Taylor. He held the lockbox with the gun in his left hand. He couldn’t wait to be rid of it. He didn’t like that holding the damn thing made him nervous, but he couldn’t shake the foreboding sitting in his stomach like a bad bowl of chili.

Norie sat down in a plush leather chair and picked up a magazine with the headline, “Martha Stewart’s Magical Makeovers.” Restlessness ate at Taylor, so he wandered around the room and looked at the paintings. Most were medieval landscapes, a few were scenes from magical history, and the biggest one, which hung above the massive stone fireplace, was a portrait of Jaed and her dragon. It was a monstrous red and gold beast, and it looked very much like the creature that Gray shifted into when he took on the form. Taylor hadn’t paid much attention to magical history in high school, so he couldn’t recall if Jaed could shift into a dragon herself. Even in a world filled with the unusual, the idea of people turning into mythical creatures was still astonishing.

Taylor was eyeing that portrait when a panel next to the fireplace slid open and a young man hurried in.
Startled by the mage’s sudden appearance, Taylor put his hand on his gun holster. The kid didn’t even notice. He had a distracted, harried look that didn’t sit well on his youthful face. He wore the traditional red robes that indicated the House of Dragons; his Converse sneakers peeked out from beneath.

“Hey. Um, hi.” He was pale-skinned, wore round glasses that made his brown eyes look owlish, and his blond hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in a week. “You’re the sheriff?”

Taylor held out his free hand. “Sheriff Taylor Mooreland.”

The man shook hands heartily, with far more strength than Taylor would’ve given him credit for. The firm handshake made his estimation of the boy rise, well, a smidge at least.

“Emmett Lee,” he said. “I’m your…er, mage, I guess. Did you bring the—” His gaze landed on Norie, and his mouth dropped open. “Wow! I mean, wow!” He hurried to the girl, his arms waving and his robes fluttering. “Awesome. So awesome. Never thought I’d ever meet one of you!”

Startled, Norie rose from the chair and found herself nearly shaken to death as Emmett grabbed both of her hands and juddered enthusiastically. Taylor crossed the room and extricated the stunned woman from the mage’s grip.

“Sorry,” said Emmett. He blushed. “I just didn’t
think I’d ever get to meet a thanaturge. They’re practically nonexistent, you know.” He paused, his gaze zeroing in on Norie’s neck. “Hey, that’s weird. You get some kind of magical blowback or something?”

Both Taylor and Norie stared at Emmett.

“What does that mean?” asked Taylor.

“Yeah, that must’ve been some spell. I’ve never seen a thanaturge in action, but I’ve researched a lot about them. Ekros is so cool, you know? I’m a dragon. Totally a dragon, heart and soul, but being able to necro? And see ghosts? Man, that’s awesome.” He turned his gaze to Norie. “You see any ghosts here? I think this place is haunted. It’s old and people have died here, and sometimes I get that funny feeling in my stomach, and my hair stands up on the back of my neck. So I was thinking we have spirits hanging around or something.”

Taylor’s head was starting to throb from Emmett’s rapid-fire commentary, and when he opened his mouth to start another round, Taylor grabbed the kid’s shoulder. “She can’t talk,” he said. “And she doesn’t exactly remember what happened. We think she got bespelled.”

“Oh.” He gave them a strange look. “Well, sorta. I guess. Whatever went down was really badass. It happens sometimes when the magic is so strong, it kinda…” He flicked out his hands and wiggled his fingers while making sounds of an explosion. “Chances are whatever happened, the magic wasn’t released properly and it, you know, got all globby. I mean, it’ll go away on its
own eventually, but why wouldn’t she just remove it?” He cast an unsure glance at Taylor. “Don’t you want her to talk?”

“Of course I do!” Taylor wondered why Gray and Ember, two of the most powerful magicals he knew, hadn’t offered up the “globby” theory. “Is it demonic?”

Emmett blinked at him. “You know her better than I do. I’ve never heard of a thanaturge controlling demons, but anything’s possible.” He looked askance at Norie. “She seems really nice, though.”

“I’m talking about the spell. The magic. Did demons do this to her?” Then Taylor thought:
What the hell is a thanaturge?

“Er…” The mage looked at Norie, and then at Taylor. “Demons smell bad, and so does their magic. She smells really, really,
really
good. And she’s pretty.” He blushed again. “So I don’t think she’s possessed or anything. Um, not that pretty has anything to do with magic. Just with her.”

Taylor wanted to shake Emmett until some sense fell into his cotton brain. “Norie isn’t possessed, and she doesn’t control demons. But we had a run-in with one earlier, and I just wondered if the magic clinging to her voice box has anything to do with the Dark One.”

“Um. Well. Y’see, it’s her magic,” said Emmett slowly. He glanced at each of them, his expression confused. “Don’t you get it?
She
cast the spell.”

Stunned silence followed Emmett’s announcement.

“Um, yeah,” said the mage, his befuddled expression bleeding into apprehension. “When magic gets, well, globby, it only does that with the person who accessed the power. You know, return to sender, that kind of thing.” He readjusted his glasses. “How come you don’t know this stuff?”