The Emerald Key (10 page)

He shivered as the chill air permeated the room. The heater ran at full, yet still, the cold twined around him. He pulled his coat close and waved his hand, frowning when nothing happened. He never used to have a problem with the weather. A wave of his hand and the bitterest freeze or highest heat would temper around him. But this cold, it seeped into his bones. He ached with it.

Energy. He expended too much. He needed another boost. Fortunately, thanks to his last call, the bodies would disappear without question. At least this part worked well. In the bowl, William watched as glass shattered in Cass’ windows. Once he had his Cassandra, then he would feast on the screams of his victims. Maybe he’d allow her to watch. Yes. That would be only right. Then she would understand. She’d see how wonderful it felt. The energy. The power. And she’d know how he honored her.

Nic looked at Cass, blood streaking her face and shirt. Trembles shook her, but he didn’t know if from fright or rage. Neither one bode well.

“Cass? Are you all right?”

“No! Get away from me. It’s not safe.”

“Stay there. Don’t move.” Nic dashed into the bedroom and slipped his shoes on. He caught a glance at the clock. Had he been asleep? At least an hour had passed since he’d been talking to Minerva and Cass at the table. And how had he gotten into the bedroom? And when? He didn’t remember going to bed. And if he had, why was he still dressed? Too many questions ran through his mind. He pushed them all aside and ran out to Cass, crunching the broken glass. He grasped her shoulders and focused on her face.

“Cass, look at me.” Without dropping his hands, he did a quick visual check of her upper body. None of her injuries seemed deep or dangerous, but he should get her to a hospital. First though, he had to get her calm. If any glass had gotten embedded in her skin—he hated to think what would happen.

“Get away.” Her words came through clenched jaws.

“No. Cass, open your eyes. Look at me.”

Her eyelids opened and he stared at her champagne eyes. “Find a calming place within you. Listen to my voice, only my voice. Calm yourself, Cass. You can do it. Take a deep breath.”

He waited while she inhaled. “Hold it. Okay, slow out. Calm. Again. Breathe in. Hold. Out.” He repeated his instructions until the tension left her shoulders. Her jaw relaxed. Several breaths later, she nodded at him.

“Thank you. How did you know what to do?”

“One place I lived had several kids with special needs. One boy had anger issues. I watched and learned.” He picked Cass up. Having her in his arms gave him a sense of rightness, as if she belonged there. He grimaced at the pain in her face, but he also saw a tiny smile, as if she enjoyed having him hold her.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“We need to get you to a hospital.” He carried her toward the hall door.

“No!” Her voice emerged shrilly and the fear he saw there went far beyond what he’d seen in the outer room, nearly panicking him. He had to keep her calm.

“No hospitals.”

“Cass, relax. I won’t make you go. But some of these cuts are pretty deep.”

“Take me to the bathroom. Please.”

He turned around, headed into the small room, and settled her on the edge of the large old-fashioned claw-foot tub. “Do you have tweezers?”

“In the cabinet.”

Nic opened the mirrored door on her medicine cabinet and found a small pair of tweezers as well as bandages and antibiotic ointment. He gingerly pulled a piece of glass from her foot, wincing when she jerked.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be still,” she said.

“Can you balance okay?”

“Not easily. Set me down in the tub.”

Once she sat down, he went to work. Ignoring his earlier thoughts about the embedded glass and her abilities, he spoke softly to her, trying to keep her calm. “It’s a shame you don’t really have powers. You could will these shards away.” He tweezed pieces of glass out of her hands. Tears leaked from her eyes as he dabbed at the blood seeping from the myriad cuts. “You’re lucky nothing hit your eyes.”

“This is lucky?” She gasped as he drew a piece from her palm. “Yeah, this has been one lucky day.”

“You’re alive,” Nic said.

“Yes, she is.” Nic and Cass looked up as Minerva strode into the room. “How is she?”

“She should go to a hospital.” Nic ran his hand gently over her face. He didn’t feel any more glass, but that didn’t mean there weren’t pieces there. Her neck had only two small cuts—which left her chest.

“Not necessary,” Minerva said. Her eyebrow rose when she saw where Nic’s hands hesitated and he jerked them away as if burned. “Why don’t you go clean up the glass from the windows? I’ll finish with Cassandra.”

Nic nodded and rose from his position next to the tub. “I didn’t check her hair yet. Are you all right?”

“I am fine. Thank you for asking.” She stood aside for him to leave.

“Did you see who did this?” Nic asked.

“Yes. They’ve been taken care of.”

“Huh? What did you do?” Nic asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“I called the police. But they won’t get anything. Someone hypnotized the two of them. They have no clue what they did. Now go while I tend her.”

* * * *

Cass breathed easier as he left and Minerva shut the door. “Hypnotized, Aunt Minerva?”

“It is an explanation he would accept. Besides, there’s really not that much of a difference between being put under a spell or hypnotized. Both are ways of making you do something you wouldn’t otherwise do.” While she talked, she studied Cass’ injuries. “Looks like your shirt caught the worst of it. I don’t want to remove it until we’re sure it’s clean. Can you stand?”

Cass carefully rose, keeping her weight off her sore feet.

“Is there any other embedded glass?”

Cass closed her eyes and mentally searched her body and clothes for glass. Nic had missed two pieces in her palms and shards in her hair. The slivers rose into the air and floated to a trash can. “I think I got it all.”

“Why didn’t you do this earlier? Your affinity with glass…” Minerva paused, glanced at the closed door, and then smiled. “Ah. I understand. So, are you going to let this one have his way with you?”

Cass felt a blush cover her face and chest. “Aunt Minerva!”

“It’s about time, my girl! I knew you’d never be happy until you met the Protector, but you didn’t have to lead a celibate’s life.”

“Aunt Minerva, I think you need to leave. I’d like to take a shower.”

“A cold one? He’s rather handsome. If I were a couple of centuries younger…” Minerva took the amulet and held her hands over Cass’ face. “I call upon the angel of healing. I ask for your strength. Heal this girl of her wounds.” Her aunt recited the prayer of healing three times and placed her hands on Cass’ cuts. Each area her hands touched tingled with heat and a sensation like a light shock. Several minutes later, her aunt dropped her hands and studied her face.

“A small scar on your left cheek, easily covered with makeup and one on your right foot. The rest are but minor scratches.”

Cass held up her hands. Dried blood marked where the cuts had been. “I’m going to take a quick shower to wash this off. How will we explain this to Nic?”

“He’s going to have other things to worry about. We’re not out of trouble yet. Others will come.” As she said that, they heard a thud outside and a string of colorful invectives.

“Minerva? Cass?” Nic pounded on the bathroom door. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Cass glanced at Minerva, who shrugged. “I guess our opponent had others in reserve that I didn’t know about. Odd. I’ll have to look into this. Unfortunately, I think you’ll have to skip the shower.”

Cass stepped out of the tub and followed her aunt into the room. “We’re coming,” she called out to Nic.

* * * *

Why weren’t they running? When the rocks hadn’t worked, the others had stepped in. Keeping them hidden had used most of his reserves, but they’d done their jobs. He’d watched as fire crept up the curtains at the windows. Surely Cassandra and the other two had to realize what would happen if they stayed in her apartment. He’d glimpsed a brief shadow in the bowl, but not long enough for them to escape. He forced himself to concentrate, clearing the vision and watching. The table on which his bowl sat moved, not much, but enough to disturb the water and the image.

“What are you doing? I’ve told you not to interrupt me.”

“Sorry! I got hungry and wanted to sit at a table. You can go back to scrying later. Besides, water’s not the only way to see things.”

At one time, his anger would have sent the strongest men to their knees. People trembled before him. But, like his magic, he’d grown weaker. He ignored the woman’s—Sheila? Yes—Sheila’s snide tone. She would pay for her insolence. But not yet.

William had traced Sheila’s lineage back to the original line of brothers—an offshoot nobody had seen. Of them all, only this woman had power worthy of him. Unlike her, the others in the different lines hadn’t been strong enough to hold their gift in this world. Some had lived long enough to have families, diluting their abilities even more. He’d taken what he could from them, using their life forces to bolster his own power. Sheila was the last of her line. Rich and spoiled, she knew nothing of magic beyond her silly schoolgirl experiments. In all his travels, she’d been one of the few people he’d found on this ball of dirt who had true power. Not as much as his Cassandra, but she did have some. The sex with her gave him enough energy to keep going. Once he had his Cassandra, the slut would be the first to feel his wrath.

Patience. He needed patience. He pulled it from the depths of his soul. “Fine. We’ll eat. Then we need to get moving. The time of opening is soon.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just remember what you promised me.” She opened the large container of fried chicken and dumped the contents onto a paper plate. “I’m not in this for your pleasure. I want money—and a lot of it. That bitch who married Dad is going through it like water. I want what’s due me.”

“You shall have everything you deserve, my dear. I promise you. We both shall.”

After Nic left Cass and Minerva in the bathroom, he went to the hall closet to get a broom and dustpan and saw the dresser sitting there at the end. He studied it closely. No one could move that thing. He squatted down. “If I had an airbag and inflated it enough to raise it, I’d be able to move this sucker. And it wouldn’t show any marks.”

He thought about that and other ways to move the piece, then went back to the living room and got to work sweeping up the glass. He didn’t understand what had happened to him. One minute, he’d been talking with Minerva and Cass, the next, running, barefoot, from the bedroom into chaos. Obviously, something had happened to him. A drug in his drink? But if so, he should still be under the influence. Still be groggy. Magic? “No. Not possible. I don’t believe in magic.”

Could this get any stranger?

As he bent over to pick up the glass, a bottle crashed through the already broken window, shattering on the floor near him, splattering him with an oily liquid that smelled a lot like kerosene. Flames from a lit rag crawled across the floor, following the line of fuel. He stepped away as two more bottles followed the first one. He dashed for the kitchen, yelling for Cass and Minerva.

“We’re coming!” he heard Cass call.

She followed Minerva out, coughing at the smoke filling the room.

“What happened?” Cass asked as Nic dumped baking soda over the flames on the floor.

Nic handed her and Minerva damp dish towels. “Molotov. Put those over your mouth and nose. Stay away from windows. No lights. We’re getting out of here.”

Nic carefully surveyed their options. They weren’t good. He felt pretty certain whoever pulled the strings on this show probably had watchers at both the door and the fire escape. That left the door behind the dresser. But even if they could move the huge piece, that way only offered access to the store.

“I thought you took care of the thugs—that you called the police,” Nic said to Minerva.

“I took care of the youngsters who came here first. This is the second wave. One I didn’t see.” She tied the towel around her head, looking as regal as possible in the strange outfit.

“Are there any ways out of your store besides the front door?” Nic asked.

“No,” Cass said.

“Yes,” Minerva said at nearly the same time. Cass and Nic stared at her.

“You get us to the store, I’ll get you from there,” Minerva said. She grabbed a fire extinguisher from the kitchen and aimed the nozzle at the curtains.

“Aunt Minerva? Can’t you do something?” Cass took over the extinguisher.

Minerva shook her head. “There are shades around this person I can’t penetrate. I can lop off the arms, but for every one we take out, two more rise up.”

“What about the fire?” Cass asked. “You can take care of that.”

“Nicodemus has that under control.”

Nic shook his head. These had to be two of the strangest women he’d ever met. Most people—man or woman—would be shaking with fear. These two waded in, took care of matters, and discussed strategies while working. “Look, I don’t know what you two are talking about, but we need to get out of here now. Who knows what they’ll throw at us next.”

Nic went back the hall and yanked out the drawers on the dresser. The piece had some age to it that showed in the construction, with solid shelves for the drawers. He had leverage, but the darned thing still outweighed him by too much. Plus he had no way to get a strap or anything else around it.

“Will this help?” Cass handed him a crowbar.

Nic hefted the tool. “How attached are you to this dresser?”

“Not that attached.”

“Good.” Nic took the crowbar and ripped away at the bottom shelf.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting us out of here.”

They heard another crash.

“That sounded like the kitchen window,” Minerva said. “Better get a move on.”

“Cass, this piece is old enough that it’s pure wood and not composites. I don’t know if I believe in all this magic stuff, but if you really do have any powers, now would be a good time to use them. Can you break this up?” He hoped she could do what she claimed she could. If not, they would be in real trouble.