Daniel Taylor and the Scepter of Power (5 page)

Mike put an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders as they left the dance studio by the back door, which led out onto the parking lot. The year-end ball had been nice, but Vanessa had often been out of sync with the music.

“What was up with you tonight?” he asked carefully as he led her to his car, the last one remaining in the dimly lit lot. Most of the spectators had left already, and Vanessa’s parents had gone straight to the bowling alley, so Mike had offered to take Vanessa home. “Is Daniel doing any better? I heard he hasn’t been in school.”

Vanessa nodded, trying to keep a vigilant eye on their surroundings.

“He definitely would have come if he could have,” Mike said in an attempt to cheer her up.

“That’s not it,” Vanessa said quietly, clinging so tightly to him that Mike had to lean away in order not to stumble. Vanessa was trembling.

“Are you cold?” Mike was still overheated from dancing, but the night was slowly cooling off. Vanessa was wearing a sleeveless, low-cut dress. She looked like a princess.

Vanessa shook her head.

“What is it, then?” Mike let go of her arm, since they had arrived at his Pontiac. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, asking himself whether Vanessa’s strange behavior had rubbed off on him. He suddenly felt like someone was watching them, and he threw a glance over his shoulder. The only light came from a fluorescent bulb over the trash bins behind the studio. The light flickered, and a cool breeze blew a page from a newspaper across the asphalt.

“Can’t you go any faster?” Vanessa pushed her handbag against her chest and pulled out a stone that looked like an amethyst. She shut her fist around it and looked over at Mike with fearful eyes.

“What do you have there?” he asked.

“Just a good luck charm.”

“What for?” He had found his key and clumsily stuck it into the lock. If only he could see a little better. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll …”

Vanessa’s scream startled Mike so much that he almost broke the key off in the lock. He spun around — and then froze. A tall man was holding Vanessa from behind, one hand over her mouth. The other hand was wrapped around her chest. Her handbag lay at her feet next to the crystal, which had shattered into a million pieces.

Mike blinked; his heart raced. No, this was impossible! He knew this creature from his textbooks: the grey robes, the shaved head …

Vanessa’s eyes were as wide as saucers. They screamed for help, but Mike didn’t know what he could do against a demon. He had never attended a Guild school; he had only flipped through a couple of books. Both his parents were watchers, but he hadn’t inherited even the most basic powers from them. Such things happened — but it wasn’t fair.

Mike swallowed. Could he be dreaming?

“Let her go!” he cried out, in the hope that the demon would react. Mike held up his hand. “I’m a watcher! If you don’t release her at once, I’ll kill you!”

The demon curled his lips into a sneer. Vanessa hung limply in his grip, paralyzed by fear. Suddenly, Mike felt an agonizing stab in his head. He pressed his hand to his temples and sank to his knees.

The demon laughed. “You want to be a watcher?” The underworlder’s eyes blazed, and a dark-red fireball materialized in his hand.

“Stop!” Mike heard a woman cry out, her voice oddly familiar. She came toward them from the direction of the trash bins. Was that Marla? “You gave me your word!”

Mike turned his head; the stabbing pain had abruptly vanished. But he felt another pang in his heart. It really was Marla! But dear God, what had happened to her? Her sweater was torn to shreds and stained with blood! Had the demon done this to her?

Mike’s fear gave way to unbridled rage. He stood up and grabbed the first object he could find in his duffel bag: a can of hair gel. Mike had always been a good pitcher. Vanessa only came up to the underworlder’s chest … Mike raised his arm just as Marla yelled, “Don’t!” But the can was already racing toward the demon’s skull. Mike was amazed to see how quickly the creature reacted. Bright beams shot out of its eyes, hitting the projectile and sending it spinning back toward Mike. It hit him full force on the head.

“Mike!” Marla screamed, running toward him as he slumped against his car, reeling. He saw spots before his eyes, but he wouldn’t allow himself to pass out. He had to inform the Guild at once! But what could they do for Vanessa? Why had the demon chosen her as his victim?

Mike’s head was spinning, and there was a painful throbbing where the can had hit him. He felt something warm trickling down his face.

Marla was next to him now, dabbing at his face with a scrap of fabric from her sweater. “You’re bleeding!”

She carefully dabbed the blood away from the wound. “Why did you do that? He could have killed you!” She glanced hastily over her shoulder. Mike could only look on as the demon dragged Vanessa over to the wall of the dance studio and a glowing blue circle appeared. A demon portal! The underworlder must be powerful indeed, to be able to create the portal only with the power of his mind. The creature pulled Vanessa through the ring — and disappeared.

Disappeared … Mike hoped he was trapped in some kind of nightmare, but the pain in his head was all too real. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer, and his entire body was shaking.

Only now did Mike take a closer look at Marla. Tears were streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “He was going to kill you if I didn’t deliver Vanessa to them.”

“What?” Mike didn’t understand a word she was saying. Overjoyed to see Marla safe, he pulled her onto his lap. He had been so unhappy when he came home after work and found the key that he had given her on his nightstand.

Marla placed a hand on his forehead and shut her eyes. “I don’t know whether this will work,” she said. Mike felt her hand grow warmer. His wound tingled and itched, and then stopped throbbing entirely.

“What are you doing?” Mike’s headache had vanished. What was happening here?

Marla took her hand away and smiled. “I did it! The wound is closed!”

“Are you a … watcher?” Some watchers had the gift of healing.

Marla lowered her eyes. “I’m a demon, but …” She abruptly raised her head and looked at Mike wide-eyed. “… my mother was a watcher, or her ancestors were.”

“This is all too confusing for me,” Mike murmured, the dull throb in his head returning. It was too much to take in all at once. Marla was a demon, but was also descended from watchers? Was she good or evil? Mike had so many questions. “Is that why you were at the party? To get to me somehow? What’s going on here?”

His heart was racing. The girl he desired so much came from the underworld? Had she been manipulating him? Toying with him? Abusing him? Oh, God, he had basically slept with her!

“No!” She put her hand on his chest, digging her fingers into his shirt. “Our meeting was just a coincidence; I was trying to convince Silvan to go back to the underworld with me …”

Mike was attempting to follow along as best he could. She told him about demons and a magical artifact, and that Marla and Silvan were merely pawns in a game of power.

“Silvan who?” Mike asked.

“D-Daniel,” Marla stammered, “in your world, he’s called Daniel Taylor.”

“Taylor!” He pushed Marla off his lap and jumped up. “Vanessa knows that he’s a demon?”

Marla stood up as well. “Yes.”

“This clears up so much,” Mike muttered. Marla’s wild appearance at the party he had chalked up to Halloween, but the exploding light bulb and Vanessa’s strange behavior over the last few weeks … “So you’re Taylor’s sister?”

She nodded through her tears. “Half-sister. Do you still like me, in spite of all this?”

Mike was unable to answer her. His mind was racing. He felt somehow hurt and used, because she hadn’t been honest with him. But could he really expect honesty from a demon? Instead of answering her question, he asked, “Can we save Vanessa?”

Marla averted her eyes. “I thought you might not want me anymore.” She looked so sad that his heart tightened. He raised her chin gently. “Let’s talk about that later, okay?” He had to restore order in his mind before dealing with that.

She nodded. “But I can’t promise to be here later.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Marla, please! Vanessa’s down there, and she must be scared to death.”

“Okay, later,” she whispered, her shoulders drooping.

“I’ll call the Guild.” Mike started to pull his cellphone out of his pocket, but Marla grabbed his hand. “We have to get to Carpenter; he might be our only hope of saving Vanessa.”

“Carpenter?” Mike cried. “James Carpenter?” Adrenaline surged through his body.

Marla nodded and pulled Mike over to the wall by his sleeve. “He may be with Silvan’s foster … uh, Daniel’s mother. Come on!”

Mike wondered whether this might represent an opportunity to gain respect, to stop being the Guild’s errand boy. “The artifact the demons want — what is it, exactly?”

Shrugging, she replied, “A scepter.”

Dear God … The parking lot seemed to tilt under his feet. He could scarcely believe his ears. A scepter! Maybe
the
scepter? He had eavesdropped on his parents when they were talking about it one day.

On the one hand, Mike was terribly worried about Vanessa, who was apparently serving as a hostage for the demons. But on the other hand, this could be his big chance!

“I know the way, I’ll drive!” Mike tried to maneuver Marla back to the car, but she wouldn’t budge. She merely put a finger on the wall.

“My way is faster.”

Did she really expect him to walk through a demon portal? They could end up anywhere! What if this was a trap?

Marla looked at him sadly. “You can trust me, Mike.”

Could he? Demons were the masters of deception.

Marla began to draw a big circle on the wall, but then stopped and turned back to Mike. “Back there, you said you were a watcher just to distract the demon, didn’t you?”

Mike shook his head. “I’m really a watcher.”

“You don’t have to lie, Mike. I would feel it if you were. With you, I … I don’t feel anything.”

She didn’t feel anything? Rage rose within him. Of course she didn’t feel anything, she was a demon! Had she been simulating her feelings before? “I’m not lying, it’s just that I have no powers, damn it! I’m a third-grade watcher, born without a spark of magic in my blood, but I still work for the Guild.” He was important, he had his duties!

“Oh,” was all Marla said. Her eyes shimmered with tears. Her hand finished tracing the circle, and the portal opened with a crackle of sparks.

I’m such an idiot!
Marla clearly had feelings, and he had just hurt them. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. It was just that he was so sick and tired of having his nose rubbed in the fact that he wasn’t a real watcher. He was privy to most of the Guild’s activities, but he was practically useless. He used to feel like a failure over this until his job at the bank gave him a bit of self-confidence. In fact, he had wanted to break off the ties to his old life, but now he was being pulled back in.

What had he achieved, really? He sat at his desk and monitored the accounts of Carpenter’s parents, just in case there might be a clue one day as to the man’s whereabouts. But the Carpenters weren’t dumb enough to transfer money to their son. At least, Mike hadn’t been able to find any proof that they were sending him money. But now everything could change for him!

“That’s okay.” Marla sighed. “If you’re really a watcher, then I trust you. But you have to trust me, too. I’m on your side.”

Mike took her hand. “This demon — will he hurt Vanessa?”

“He won’t kill her as long as he still needs her.”

That didn’t sound so good. They had to hurry!

As Silvan walked down the stairs, he made himself invisible and tried to step carefully so that the old wooden boards wouldn’t betray him by creaking. It was unusually quiet in the house. He almost believed that no one was at home, until he focused his demonic senses and heard the quiet sound of two hearts beating, calmly and evenly. He knew from the hectic pounding in his ears that it couldn’t be his own heart that he heard.

His mother wasn’t alone.

Silvan entered the living room and came to a sudden halt as he saw two people asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. He couldn’t quite see either of them, the man or the woman; they were semi-transparent. The woman was his foster mother!

Quietly, remaining invisible, Silvan came closer to the couple. The man was very tall. He was lying behind his mother, his chest against her back, his face half-buried in her hair. The little that Silvan could see was sufficient to recognize the obvious: This man, whose features were so similar to his own, except for the hair, must be James Carpenter … his father!

Silvan could feel the pure goodness that James radiated, a benevolent power that disconcerted him.

He held his breath. Why was Carpenter here now — why hadn’t his father come when he had wanted him to?

Anger smoldered within Silvan, because he never got what he wanted.

Take the amulet!
the voices in his head commanded.
But don’t touch it with your hand!