Spirit Storm (9 page)

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Authors: E.J. Stevens

Tags: #Teen Paranormal

BOOK: Spirit Storm
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“Emma, try looking up occult shops on Essex Street,” I said, excitedly.

“Okay, how about Crow Haven Corner,” she said. “Does that sound like the shop?”

“No,” I replied. “I remember having to walk up stone steps to that one. The shop with the amulet was on street level.” My pulse was racing and I had to keep wiping my sweating palms on my cargo pants.

“Here’s one,” she said. “The Cauldron and Noose?”

“Oh my God, that’s it!” I yelled, belatedly remembering we were in a library.

“Too much caffeine,” Emma said and shrugged at the glowering woman across the room. “Are you sure it’s the Cauldron and Noose?”

“Absolutely,” I replied. “The name made me think of Bubble and Squeak, which is the name of that breakfast dish my mom makes with left over vegetables, and I remember looking at the sign and feeling all queasy. It stuck with me as kind of a morbid name.”

“Okay, remind me not to go shopping with you and Cal,” she said. “Ever.”

I started giggling and felt nervous energy bubbling up to the surface. Looking over at the still frowning woman across the room I tried to clamp down on my laughter.

“Deal,” I said. “So do they have a website?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Here’s their photo gallery. Look familiar?”

Some of the displays had changed and they now had an entire section devoted to Egyptian sun gods and scarabs, okay that’s a strange coincidence, but the glass case was still in the same spot by the back wall. I clicked through more pictures in their gallery and gasped when I found a close-up photograph of the amulet.

“Gallows Amulet, private collection,” I read aloud.

“Yuki, it looks just like Nera’s amulet,” she said. Emma was holding our copies of sketches depicting Nera’s amulet. She was right. The design on the face of the amulet was the same.

“It says that the original source of the Gallows Amulet name is unknown, but a local collector added the amulet to their collection of items relating to the Salem witch trials,” I said. “Though the provenance remains unknown, the Gallows Amulet has become a popular Salem attraction.”

Son of a dung beetle.
I was right. Not only did Nera’s amulet exist, but it was only a two hour drive away. Now I just needed to learn how to make a replica of the amulet and, oh yeah, break into an occult shop and steal the real thing. All before Samhain. Good thing I wore my four-leaf clover charm today. I would need all the luck I could get.

Chapter 12

 

 

Emma and I met Cal and Simon for lunch at Mr. Green Genes. Emma picked the restaurant, obviously, but the sandwiches were to die for and even the guys had to grudgingly admit the nachos grande was tasty. While the waitress was clearing away our dishes, Cal turned his gorgeous blue eyes my way.

“You okay?” he asked, watching me steadily.

I felt like I was falling into the sapphire depths of his eyes and shook my head to concentrate.

“Actually I have good news,” I said, smiling.

Emma and I proceeded to tell the guys about our research into the Ulster Cycle and Nera’s adventures on the night of Samhain. I explained my theory that Nera had survived the spirits of the dead by carrying an amulet made by the Sidhe, or fairies as they were better known. Emma pulled our photocopies of the amulet out of her backpack and I relayed how the sketches had looked familiar. Finally, I told them how we had tracked down the amulet, now called the Gallows Amulet, to an occult shop in Salem Massachusetts. Cal frowned when I mentioned my plan to swap the amulet for an imitation, worry lines wrinkling his brow, but he didn’t say anything.

“So a bit of cloak and dagger, eh?” Simon said, making it sound like something dirty.
Leave it to Simon to get hot and bothered over breaking and entering.
“I did my share of thievery in my youth.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” I muttered under my breath.

“Too bad we’re past the stone age,” Emma said. “Bashing someone on the head to gain entry wasn’t what we had in mind.”

“Never doubt the magic hands,” Simon said, waving the offended digits. “I have multiple skills you haven’t witnessed yet.” The last he said with a wink. “I haven’t encountered a lock I couldn’t finesse.”

Emma muttered something about sticking to locks and forgetting about women when I decided to diffuse the situation. I had a lot to learn in a very short amount of time and didn’t want to waste the next hour watching Simon and Emma fight.

“Can you teach me how to pick a lock?” I asked.

I could have asked Simon to go to Salem and steal the amulet for me, but what I was doing was already wrong and asking someone else to do the job on my behalf felt even worse. I guess I didn’t have the makings of a criminal mastermind after all.
Too bad, I was getting good at the maniacal laugh.

“There are a lot of things I could teach you, love, if you give me half a chance,” Simon said, leering.

“Simon,” Cal growled. Simon held his gaze, but was the first to look away.

“Do you have pictures of the shop?” Simon asked. “If I know what kind of lock we’re dealing with, I can better answer your question.”
Huh, I guess Simon could behave himself after all.

Emma handed Simon the pictures we had printed from the Cauldron and Noose website. We only had one photo of the shop front that included the door, and that was at a bad angle for examining the lock, but the close ups of the amulet provided excellent detail of the lock on the glass case that housed the amulet.

“I could teach you how to pick this one blindfolded,” Simon said. He looked like he was about to make a suggestive comment, but Cal froze him with a glare. “Right, well we could use more information about what kind of lock is on the front door, but no worries. The door looks ancient and there was no sign of security cameras or alarm system. I can get you in.”

“That leaves the problem of making a replacement amulet for the swap,” I said, pulling my sleeves down over my hands to hide the shaking. Simon had said he could help get me in, but that wouldn’t do any good if I didn’t have a replica of the amulet to leave in its place.

“Anyone know a goldsmith we could trust?” Emma asked. “No offense Yuki, but like I said before I just don’t see you making a believable copy. You have mad skills when it comes to smelling dead people, but jewelry making? Not so much.”

I rolled my eyes at Emma, but she did have a point. Creating the amulet would be difficult and I already had my hands full learning lock picking from Simon and helping Gavin’s spirit find peace. We also had a missing boy to find.
No rest for the wicked.

“Sorry,” Cal said, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know anyone, but I can ask my parents.”

“No need,” Simon said, smugly. “I know a guy.”

“Of course you do,” Emma grumbled. “Is he trustworthy?”

“The best trust money can buy,” Simon replied. “He’s also fast, which is something we need to consider.”

“I can withdraw from my savings account, but I probably don’t have enough to cover what this guy will charge,” I said.

Would he accept a payment plan?
Maybe I could find a way to borrow money. I was short on funds after pitching in to have Emma’s car repaired, but the amulet was important. I could always get a part-time job, though how I would work it around my bizarre paranormal life was beyond me. Too bad I didn’t have a handy psychic ability, like knowing lottery numbers, rather than smelling the dead.

“No worries, love,” Simon said, grinning. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I can cover the expense.”

I could tell that Calvin was torn between telling Simon to shut his mouth, he had said
panties
after all, and thanking him. He settled for shifting through all the colors of the spectrum. His tanned face was shifting back to angry red when I squeezed his hand. I reached up, on tip toes, to kiss Cal on the cheek and he turned to slant his mouth over mine. When we broke apart I continued to hold onto his hand. Cal looked much more relaxed. Good, Simon was doing me a favor and I didn’t want him rewarded with a punch in the face.
Not today anyway.

But how could Simon afford to pay my debt? He didn’t work and I was unaware of any past work history. I realized that there was a lot about Simon, and his past, that I didn’t know. Was he from a wealthy family, had he robbed a bank, or worked as a gigolo? Knowing Simon, the answer was probably all of the above.
Especially the gigolo bit.

“Thanks, I’ll pay you back,” I said.

“Aye, love,” Simon said, grinning. “You will.”

Son of a dung beetle.
I didn’t like the sound of that. No, I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

*****

Simon disappeared to make a clandestine call to his underground jeweler connection while Emma, Cal, and I decided what to do next. Cal filled us in on the lack of progress in finding clues to Sam’s whereabouts. Sam’s sister was frantic and the hint from Emma’s spirit guide alluded to his capture. If Sam was still alive and being kept hidden underground, there was a chance that we could save him. The big question was why the killer had decided to kidnap him at all. Why not murder him when he had the chance? The thought made my stomach churn. Or maybe it was the increasing smell of burning brownies.
Don’t worry Gavin, we’ll catch this guy and help you find peace.

“Why do you think this guy is keeping Sam alive?” I asked. “If he hates werewolves so much, why didn’t he kill his target? I mean, I’m glad he didn’t kill Sam, but it seems weird he would go to the trouble to attempt a kidnapping.”

“Maybe he messed up?” Emma suggested.

“Oh God,” Cal said. “This guy hates werewolves, right? The silver bullet, cross, mountain ash, mistletoe, and wolfsbane he left beneath Gavin’s body were obviously wards against lycanthropy. Plus, Gavin’s body was in wolf form when he died…”

“He wants to kill Sam when he’s in wolf form,” I guessed. I wrinkled my nose at the growing smell of burning brownies, but tried to concentrate.

“Psycho,” Emma said. “What kind of werewolf goes around hunting other werewolves and killing them in their wolf form?”

“I think the real question, love, is why does our killer hate werewolves?” Simon said, sliding back into his seat. I hadn’t heard him approach and wondered how much of our conversation he had heard. “If we knew the answer to that, then we might be able to figure out who he is.”

“Okay, we can call around and ask if anyone knows of a pack member who was ever attacked or slighted by another werewolf,” Cal said. “I’ve already been working on a list of known ronin or, ah, lone wolves. Maybe we can narrow our search to people who show up on both lists.”

“How about adding a crazy category?” I asked. “You know Loco Lycans.”

“I know who would top
that
list,” Emma said, looking pointedly at Simon.
Actually, she had a point.

“While you’re all running around making lists, you may want to keep an eye on the moon,” Simon said. “If this killer wants our boy in wolf form before he kills him, then he’ll be getting his wish soon enough.” Simon turned to me and winked. “See kitten, you’re not the only one on a tight schedule. Lady Moon will be full two nights after Samhain.”

“Not good,” Emma muttered.

When we all looked at her quizzically she pulled her cell phone from her purse. After bringing up a calendar, she showed us the notation for November first.
Son of a dung beetle.
November first was also known as the Day of the Dead. It looked like we would be facing a full moon and some full on spirit activity after Samhain. I had been so focused on the events of Samhain night that I had completely overlooked the threats of the days after. Our spirit storm had just upgraded to a spirit hurricane. Oh well, at least now it didn’t look like things could get much worse.

“Yuki, you better hope those witches don’t figure out who stole their amulet, ‘cause you’re going to need all your mojo for this whole Day of the Dead thing,” Emma said.

Oh yeah, cursed by witches.
Note to self, things can
always
get worse.

Chapter 13

 

 

After lunch Emma left for her shift at the shelter and Cal, Simon, and I went back to the cabin which was doubling as command central. We each stuffed our pockets with food, beef jerky for the guys and granola bars for me, and water. I was glad to be wearing my paratrooper cargo pants since they had a gazillion pockets. My pants were tucked into my boots, leaving nothing to snag on rocks or debris. Scanning our supplies I also grabbed two flashlights. It couldn’t hurt to have a back up. I also put one in a plastic bag to keep it dry. I really didn’t want to end up underground without a working flashlight. The guys, and the other searchers, had their heightened werewolf eyesight, but I was only human and all too afraid of the dark, especially when a killer may be lurking in the shadows.
On second thought, maybe I should grab another flashlight.

Cal had spread a map on the table and was staring at it intensely. I could see the tension in his shoulders and the dark circles beneath his eyes. His hands fisted and unclasped compulsively as he looked at the map for answers. He was the alpha and, therefore, responsible for protecting his pack. Losing one pack member to a brutal killer had forced Cal to take on his leadership role early. He hadn’t fully come into his powers, and still struggled with controlling his wolf spirit, but he didn’t shirk his responsibilities. Watching him worry over Sam, I suddenly fell in love with him even more. I didn’t even know that was possible.
You’re full of surprises Calvin Miller.

I moved to his side, hips touching, and examined the map. From this vantage I could see hundreds of small marks where Cal had checked off areas searched. It looked like they had begun searching near Sam’s home and then radiated outward. It was impressive how much ground they had covered, but so far it hadn’t been enough. I let my gaze roam further out from the center and looked for anywhere that may house a fugitive underground.

A memory of being in a cave with Cal was nagging at me, but I couldn’t place where exactly the cave had been. We had only been about ten years old at the time so it couldn’t have been very far away.

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