The Darkest Magic (A Book of Spirits and Thieves) (21 page)

She stared at him coolly for several more moments, until finally a smile stretched her lips. “This is good.
Very
good. Welcome to my village, witch-boy.”

CRYSTAL

W
atching Becca leave the ballroom was the single worst moment of Crys’s life. Even worse than when the Codex sucker punched her sister into a magic-induced coma.

She must have gone temporarily insane to ask Farrell for help. In a matter of moments, he’d made it totally clear that everything he’d said during their dance was a lie. He was too selfish to help anyone but himself.

All Crys remembered after Becca was taken was Jackie grabbing her and pushing her out of the ballroom and into a taxi that took them back to Angus’s.

Now the door was clicking shut behind them, and she was surrounded by the familiar furniture of the penthouse.

“Angus, are you screening?” she heard Jackie say, dimly realizing her aunt was on the phone. “This is my second message. You
need
to call me. It’s urgent. I have to talk to Julia, got it?”

She hung up and went to the kitchen, leaving Crys standing alone in the foyer. A couple of moments later she returned with two bottles of water and handed one to Crys.

“I know you’re freaking out,” she said. “So am I. That was rough—very rough—but we can deal with this.”

Crys just stared at her, feeling the cold condensation from the plastic bottle against her skin.

Dr. Vega emerged from the study, rubbing his eyes. “Crystal, there you are. I was wondering where you and your sister disap—”

“How
could
you?” Jackie nearly spat at him.

He regarded her with shock. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Crys and Becca! How could you let them leave? Follow me there?”

“I . . .” He shook his head, looking to Crys before ducking his head and putting his glasses back on. “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they’d left until half an hour ago, when I took a break.”

“Seriously, Uriah? You were the
adult
in the house. I left you in charge.”

“It’s not his fault,” Crys said. “We sneaked out.”

Jackie ignored her. “Imagine, I’m standing there with Markus King, and suddenly I look up, and there they are, in the middle of the ballroom! And now everything’s gone to hell! They have Becca.”

“Oh.” Dr. Vega’s mouth dropped open, his ruddy expression turning pale in an instant. “Oh no. This is horrible. Markus is going to use her to bargain for the Codex.”

“No.” Then Jackie swore loudly, raking her hands through her long blond hair. “Someone else—some enemy of Markus’s—was there. It has to be the man Angus mentioned . . . all those rumors about a new magician or whatever he said. Damn it! I wasn’t even listening to him go on about that, and now he won’t call me back. And this guy, this
Damen Winter
—somehow he knew about Becca. That she’s Markus’s daughter.”

“She’s
what
?” Dr. Vega exclaimed.

Crys must have been shocked into sheer hysteria, because she started to laugh. Vega’s cartoonish reaction to this news was far too comical for her to observe straight-faced.

Jackie turned a look of sheer outrage on her. “What are you laughing at?”

“Honestly?” Crys said, barely trying to contain her giddy laughter. “I’m laughing at you. Look at you, blaming everyone but yourself—Becca’s
mother
—for what’s happened.”

Vega’s mouth dropped open even further to hear the second half of Jackie’s big secret.

Jackie ignored the professor and kept staring at Crys. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Crys kept laughing, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “This is all so hilarious. You are so full of yourself, you know that? This has all been your fault from the very beginning. Everything bad that’s happened to us has happened because of
you
.”

“That’s not true.”

“No? Let’s see. Well, first of all, Becca wouldn’t have even
touched
the book in the first place if you hadn’t clumsily sent it to the bookshop by regular post.”

“I’m sorry, but weren’t you the one, Crys, who opened a package that was addressed to your mother?” Jackie countered without missing a beat.

“Please. That’s model citizen behavior compared to you. I’m curious: What worse things have you’ve done over the years than steal a bunch of allegedly magical crap? Because after seeing your little performance with Markus tonight, I know there has to be more. You were so ready to stick a knife into your former lover—maybe you were a hired assassin over in Europe?”

“Wrong. You couldn’t be more wrong. You jump to conclusions without any proof, Crystal. That’s what you’ve always done. You’re just like your father.”

“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment, actually. At least he gives a damn about his family when it comes down to it. You, though, you just dangle us, like bait, in front of your ex-boyfriend.”

“How dare you!”

“You think so damn highly of yourself that you thought you could just put on a tight dress, march into that ball, and make Markus forget his own name. Looks like that was a big fat fail to me. Then again, don’t be too hard on yourself. You
are
twice the age you were when he was interested in you. I guess he isn’t so into old, used-up hags.”

It happened so fast that Crys didn’t even register Jackie winding up and backhanding her until her face exploded in pain. She clasped her palm to her burning cheek and stared at her aunt in shock.

Jackie stared back at her, anger blazing in her eyes for a long moment. But gradually the anger faded, replaced by regret. “Crys,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you.”

Dr. Vega just watched them, twisting his hands. “Please, both of you. Calm down. We can figure this out, I know we can.”

“I need my father,” Crys said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “He can help us.” She fished her phone out of her purse and, without thinking twice, composed a text as quickly as she could.

Dad, where are you? I need to talk to you! IMPORTANT!! Call me!!

She pressed Send and waited, hoping for an immediate response. “Damn it, Dad,” she snarled at the screen after two minutes passed. “Where are you? You always answer when I need you the most. Come on!”

She began pacing back and forth, hoping with all of her heart and soul that he’d be able to respond from wherever he was. Because contacting him might put him at risk with the society, this was the first time she’d tried reaching out to him in over a week. But her patience was finally at an end, and she knew Markus wasn’t going to be around to see the message.

“Crys . . . ,” Jackie said gently.

“He’s going to answer.”

“Honey, I . . . I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t want to make tonight any harder on you than it’s already been.”

Crys stared at the screen, willing it to light up, buzz, make a sound. Willing for
something
to happen, anything that would prove that Daniel Hatcher was still out there. That he’d managed to lie his way out of the sure punishment he would have received if Markus knew that he’d helped his daughters escape.

But now, unanswered text message in hand, she found she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep denying the horrible truth she’d known from the moment those elevator doors had closed between them.

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “Isn’t he?”

Her grip came loose, and her phone dropped to the floor. She fell bruisingly hard to her knees.

A painful wail rang out, an almost animal cry of grief. She was numb and stunned, but somehow she knew the cry was coming from her.

“Honey, honey,” Jackie was on her knees next to Crys, pulling her niece into a tight hug, rocking her gently back and forth. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Crys couldn’t see anymore; she was blinded by the tears streaming from her eyes. When her father first left Julia for the society,
she’d cried so much that when her tears finally dried she promised herself that she’d never cry again.

She’d tried very hard to hold true to that promise, thinking with pride that it made her stronger, tougher.

And maybe it really did. For a little while.

But now . . . it was too much. She couldn’t handle—couldn’t even fathom—the idea of everything she’d lost.

She used to dream that one day she’d have her family back the way it was—her whole, picture-perfect family that would go out to restaurants together, watch movies on TV and heckle the actors and cheesy fight scenes from the couch. But now she knew that she’d never have that again.

“I’m sorry, Crystal,” Dr. Vega said, his voice thick with sympathy. “You haven’t deserved any of this. But please, you cannot blame your aunt. She’s trying to make it all right again. You have to see that.”

“I do,” she croaked out. “I do see that. I’m sorry too. Jackie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t even mention it,” Jackie whispered. “And we will get her back. I swear we will.”

“How?” Crys whispered desperately. “She’s with . . .
him
. And that Damen person. He killed those people just by looking at them!” Crys blinked, pulling back from her aunt and wiping her tears. Dr. Vega fetched a box of tissues and offered Crys a wad of at least ten. She frowned as she forced herself to think about the bone-chillingly scary man with the sickly pale skin and black eyes. “What that monster did—could that be called death magic? Becca told me that the boy she met in Mytica could do death magic but that he used his powers to communicate with spirits. Could they be connected?”

“I don’t know,” said Jackie gravely. “It certainly seemed that Damen is from the same world as Markus. But their magic is very different. There’s the dagger, of course, but the magic that comes from Markus himself is elemental—earth magic for healing, and some fire magic.”

“He showed me.” Crys remembered the afternoon she first met Markus, when she watched with amazement as he summoned a flame to the palm of his hand. “He said he didn’t like doing fire magic because it made him feel too much like a Las Vegas magician.”

Jackie nodded. “He and Damen clearly have different kinds of magic. And Markus’s has faded over the years. This Damen Winter—his magic is strong. He killed those people without even laying a finger on them. And Markus said that the magic in the dagger came from Damen.”

“Bottom line: He’s a bigger threat than Markus is,” Crys said. “And, on top of that, he hates Markus.”

“I don’t give a damn about what happens to Markus,” Jackie said. “All I care about is Becca.”

“So what do we do?” Crys asked.

“We need Angus, and we need your mother back to full strength,” Jackie said without missing a beat. “Markus says he didn’t give Julia the command to bring him the book, but I’d be a fool to just believe him. If we get the dagger, then we wield the power that could break the spell of the marks.”

“Yeah, well, if tonight was any indication, doing that will be a lot easier said than done,” Crys said. “For all we know, Markus had the dagger on him tonight.”

“No, he doesn’t carry it unless he plans to use it. He keeps it—or at least he
kept
it—in a box in my grandfather’s library.” Her expression grew pinched and pensive. “I suppose it’s
his
library now,
since my grandfather left that mansion and his entire fortune to him in his will.”

“I’ve been in that library. That’s where Dad”—Crys’s voice broke, and she pushed back a swell of tears—“took me to meet him. I was blindfolded, though, so I couldn’t see the way to get there.”

“What did he think you were going to do? Go back and break in?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Well, that’s what I’m going to do,” Jackie said resolutely.

“You’re going to break into Markus’s home?” Dr. Vega peered at her with disbelief.

Her expression was tense. “I sure am. The universe owes me a couple of favors, Uriah. Why can’t a smooth and successful breaking-and-entering scheme to steal a magic dagger be one of them?”

“Good.” Dr. Vega cleaned his glasses on his sleeve, his brow furrowed. “Get your hands on that dagger and I’m sure I’ll be able to properly destroy it—with Angus’s help.”

Jackie nodded firmly. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

Crys shook her head. “No. We need to go
now
.”

“We’re both exhausted, starving, and grieving—this is something that requires strength and wits. Wait . . .” She frowned. “I don’t remember inviting you along on this mission.”

“I’m going,” Crys said firmly. “Don’t even try to say no.”

Jackie stared at Crys for several moments, her eyes worried and her brow furrowed in a combination of concern and fear. “Fine,” she finally said. “But after this, we’re even, Little Miss Masquerade-Ball-Crasher. And we’re going tomorrow.”

She wanted to argue, but knew she wouldn’t get far. “Fine. But first thing,” Crys said resolutely.

“Yes. Then we’ll get Julia—if Angus gets off his ass and
returns my calls—and free her from Markus’s marks. In the meantime, Uriah, please find everything you can on a Damen Winter— anything that might help us figure out where he might have taken Becca.”

“I’m on it,” Dr. Vega said, nodding. “Someone as powerful as you say he is will have left a trail of destruction that could lead to useful answers. But, I don’t understand: Why did he take Becca?”

“Most likely to give Markus a reason to behave himself and not fight back,” Jackie replied. “He must assume that Markus wouldn’t risk letting his daughter be harmed.”

“Oh God. Becca . . .” The thought of her sister trapped in some unknown location with those two monsters, without any friends or allies nearby to comfort her, made it hard for Crys to breathe, to think.

“I thought Farrell Grayson could help,” Crys said, her voice hoarse. “He’s so close to Markus now . . .”

Jackie eyed her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Crys picked up her phone from the floor, closing her eyes as she exited the text message window. She scrolled through the address book, looking for Farrell’s number, but it wasn’t there.

“Damn. I forgot—I deleted it when I realized he’d been lying to me.”

“It’s for the best.”

Not that Farrell would have helped her, of course. But maybe Adam could talk to him—if anyone could make him see reason, it was his brother. He could convince him that if they found Becca, they’d find his lord and master too.