The Emerald Key (6 page)

“It’s not possible. I don’t know you. I can’t,” Cass whispered. “Can I?”

Nic ran his hand over his short hair. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening here. I’m here about a job. With Greg. I’ve met Dori a couple of times, but never felt this…connection like I seem to have with you. But we’ve never met. Have we?”

“No. Believe me, I’d remember meeting you.” She reached up to touch his face, then drew back. “But I know you, too. You’re my Protector. You’re Nicodemus.”

He studied her with eyes full of pain, and passion. “And you’re my Cassandra. Mine to protect. Mine to love.”

Cass jumped when he said “love.” “I…I have to go. Thank you for the cocoa. Good night.” She bolted like a scared rabbit running from a falcon. She dashed back to her room, but instead of crawling under the covers, she pulled out her box of crystals. After selecting the ones she wanted, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, hands on her knees, eyes closed, stones of power surrounding her.

“Spirits who protect me, spirits who see. Show me the past for Nicodemus and me. So mote I say. So mote it be.”

Instead of swirling grayness giving way to clarity and mental pictures telling her what she wanted, the fog never lifted. She tried several times, all with the same result.

“Cassandra?” Minerva’s voice broke into Cass’ thoughts. “Let it go. Just accept what is.”

“But who is he?”

“All you need to know is that he will keep you safe. You don’t need to worry over him. Now sleep, my child. Sleep.”

Cass yawned widely. She put her stones on the nightstand and lay down.

“Sleep.”

Her eyes closed and muscles relaxed.

“Sleep.”

* * * *

Minerva passed her hand over the scrying bowl. Cass would sleep the rest of the night through. The same technique that worked on eight-year-old Cassandra with too many questions also worked on the twenty-eight-year old. She passed her hand over the bowl once more. “Show me.”

Nic’s face swam into view. He lay stretched out on the sofa, hands laced behind his head, eyes closed. To Minerva’s surprise, she sensed him seeking her. But not this Nic. The older one. The one who should not be there, but was. She grinned. It seemed the spirit of Nicodemus was stronger than any knew.

“Who are you?”

Though his lips hadn’t moved, Minerva heard his words as clearly as if he stood next to her.

“I am Minerva, Protector of Cassandra.”

“You may be the guardian, but I am the Protector. Who threatens her from the shadows?”

“I don’t know,” Minerva answered. “I am working to find out.”

“Just remember, she is mine to protect.”

Minerva grinned. “That will be up to her. But know this, Protector. Fail her and you will answer to me.”

“Your threats are worthless, Witch. Should I fail her, my fate is already sealed.”

“Sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when
I
wish, Witch. Not when you say.”

Minerva’s grin widened into a laugh. “You will set her a challenging contest, Protector. Good luck to you.” She passed her hand over the bowl then covered it with a cloth. “It’s about time,” she said to the cat purring at her feet. “I was beginning to think he’d never get here.”

“Meow.”

“I know, Wunjo. I know. I can’t interfere more than I already have. It is nearly time for us to leave. The rest will be up to him. And her. But first, we must deal with the other problem. He thinks he can threaten me. He has sworn to protect my kind from the beginning of time. To go back on his vows does more than he realizes. His powers and vows are connected. Without them, he is like any other human in this world.”

“Meow.”

Minerva chuckled and scratched the cat behind his ears. “I agree, Wunjo. I agree. But we must see to Cassandra’s safety first, and the security of the others as well. The time of revelation draws near. Come. We have much to do.”

Cass stared at the shambles of their store, her aunt at her back. Books, candles, and herbs lay scattered among smashed counters and toppled shelves. The holiday window display that had taken her an entire weekend to set up now lay in an unrecognizable mess. Pieces of fake snow, balsam greens, and red ribbons mingled with crushed crystals.

She took two steps in, her feet crunching on the broken glass from the front door. She froze, listening to the sounds, then relaxed. Her instincts told her whoever had done this had gone. And she’d learned very early to trust her instincts.

“Who would do this, Aunt Minerva? Why?” Cass asked. Not a single shelf had been spared. She bent to pick up a book of spells and saw a symbol burned into the floor. It looked like a pyramid with a diamond in the center and surrounded by a maze. She grasped her necklace. The design appeared too similar for her comfort. “Aunt Minerva?”

“Don’t touch anything.” Her aunt drew her away from the symbol. “Especially that. I will take care of that. We need to wait for the police. And the insurance company.”

She barely noticed her aunt’s strong hands as Minerva drew Cass away from the destruction. “Come, Cassandra.”

Cass allowed Minerva to lead her outside to the protected patio they kept for al fresco dining. The cold air bit at her as she huddled in her heavy coat. Cass heard her aunt calling the police.

“Sit. Drink.” One of her aunt’s special blend teas appeared in front of her. She didn’t want to know where Minerva had gotten the stash since it looked like all the canisters had been broken.

“Chamomile for calming,” Minerva said. “And a touch of mint.”

She’d left Greg and Dori’s early that morning, but not before a quiet conversation with Dori. Nic had looked so adorable sprawled on his back on the couch; she hadn’t wanted to wake him. She’d sneaked out without the men being any wiser.

Cass wrapped her hands around the mug and stared at the pale liquid as if searching for the answers to her questions there. A face appeared in the tea, fuzzy at first, then growing clearer. When Minerva bumped the table, the image broke apart before she could see features, but she knew for certain she’d seen Nic’s face, and yet, not his face. Him, but different. Perhaps the vision had been wishful thinking on her part.

A few minutes later, Cass saw the flashing lights of the town patrol car as it arrived. Immediately behind it came Nic’s truck. Greg hopped out of the police car and came to her table. Nic followed right behind him, fury written in his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw.

“Cass? You okay?” Greg asked.

“Yes. I’m fine. It’s the store.” Cass’ hands shook and she let go of the mug and clenched them under the table. Anyone seeing her for the first time would think fear caused the tremors, but in reality, she was angry. Beyond angry and heading toward furious. She needed to get control. Needed to calm down before something happened. As soon as the thought entered her mind, the mug in front of her shattered, splashing hot tea everywhere.

“Oh!” Cass jumped up, blotting at the wetness on her skirt. Fortunately, she’d worn the black one today so the stain wouldn’t show. Minerva came immediately, wiping up the mess.

“Cassandra, control,” her aunt whispered.

“I know!” She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath, exhaling slowly and envisioning the rage going with it. The effort worked, barely.

“How’d that happen?” Greg asked.

“The mug probably had a crack in it and the hot tea and cold air finished it off,” Minerva said as she mopped up the mess.

Greg waited for Minerva to finish her task. “Let us take a look, then we’ll talk. Give me the keys to your place. We’ll check that too.”

Cass bit her lip. What if her place had been trashed? She noted that Greg had come alone in the car. Usually on something like this, the dispatcher sent two men. Though she didn’t know the other day shift guy well, she figured he should be there. “I’m surprised Tom isn’t with you.”

Greg shrugged. “He’s on another job. I’ll get Nic to help me.”

She shook her head, wondering about the legality of having a non-cop help with the search, but Greg would never do anything that wasn’t above board. Even with Steve gone, his people would be following his orders and Steve was a stickler for following the rules. She listened as Greg talked with Nic.

*

“I’m beyond trying to understand why Steve thinks this is all a prank,” Greg said. “This has gone way beyond a nasty e-mail and Tom’s the break-in expert. Steve knows that. But when I talked to him, he told me to handle this.”

“You talked to him?” Nic asked.

“Yeah. I called him as soon as I got the word about this. He sounded distracted.” Greg shrugged. “I’ll figure out what’s up with him after we get this straightened out. Nic, you’ve got more experience with this sort of thing. Sure would like your take.”

“He knows you’ve been helping Cass with this issue. Probably figures you’re better informed.” Nic glanced at Cass. “Stay here.”

When she glared at him, he paused. “Please. This time, please stay here.”

He nodded when she sat back down. He stepped through the broken front door and surveyed the damage. Candles, crystals, jewelry, herbs, books—supplies for spells and magic strewn across the floor. Teas and expensive coffees ground into the mess.

“You don’t think this is some sort of prank to bring attention, do you?” Nic asked when Greg joined him. Even as he said the words, he knew no prankster had anything to do with this.

Greg shook his head. “Nobody in town would do something like this to Cass. Minerva wouldn’t stand for it—and you do not cross Minerva.”

“Why? Would she put a hex on you?”

“If you’re lucky. And don’t dismiss Minerva so easily. She’s got a black belt in karate, and teaches a self-defense class at the community center. She knows everyone. If that woman ever wanted to run for public office, the other candidates wouldn’t even bother to show up. Heck, they’d probably vote for her too. Minerva is a force to be reckoned with.”

“So why risk her wrath by doing this?” Nic studied the destruction. To him, this went beyond pure vandalism. This looked more like a search. And rage. But Greg’s comments explained the boyfriend’s interest in Cass. Connections. He’d bet his gun the guy didn’t care for Cass beyond what the aunt could bring him.

Greg moved through the store, skirting the worst of the mess, careful not to touch anything. “I don’t know. There are some religious fanatics who don’t approve of the store, but even they respect Minerva. They’d never do something like this.”

“This doesn’t look like a simple robbery or even vandalism.”

“I agree. I’m going to check upstairs.” Greg stepped over the destroyed display to the front door.

“You want me to come with you?” Nic asked.

“Nah. I’ve got a feeling whoever did this is long gone.”

Nic nodded his agreement. “If you have a camera handy, I’ll get pictures of everything.”

Greg pointed to his car and tossed Nic the keys. “There’s one in the trunk. I’ll check upstairs and be right back.”

Nic went out to the car and got a camera, gloves, and several plastic bags he stashed in his pocket. He spent several minutes shooting pictures of the scene. He checked the cash register, found it undamaged and untouched.

“That’s odd. Why go to all this trouble and not take the cash?”

His mind wandered to the woman sitting outside. She’d been wearing a dark patterned skirt and black top that enhanced her coloring and shape—not that either needed enhancing. Before her cup broke—and he wondered about that—he’d have sworn her eyes had been full of rage, but when he left with Greg, he saw only calm resignation in her face. He forced his thoughts away from her and back to the store.

He glanced at the floor and noticed a necklace identical to the one Cass wore and similar to the burn mark on the floor. The chain had been broken—actually, more than broken. Shattered would be a better description. Like someone in a rage had pulled at it—multiple times. And the pendant had been bent out of shape. Crushed under a heel? There had to be some sort of symbolic significance. He snapped a picture of it so he could examine the design later.

Nic studied the remains of the store. He hadn’t had much of a chance the previous night, plus they’d turned off the lights just after he’d arrived, so he hadn’t even seen the layout let alone the goods.

Here in the front section, the debris looked to be mostly books, decks of cards, and other paper items along with the bins of teas, coffees, and other tea shop paraphernalia. The middle had candles, open bins of crystals, and what he would call costume jewelry and the rear section contained herbs and bottles of essential oils. A long case with a smashed top contained a variety of knives and expensive-looking jewelry. The pendant appeared to belong in that area, not here by the front door. He used his pen to pick up the remains of the piece and deposit it in one of the plastic bags.

“You find something?” Greg asked as he reentered the shop.

“Maybe.” Nic held the bag up for him to see. “Recognize this?”

Greg peered at the necklace. “Cass wears one like that, though not so broken. So does Dori. This one is probably from Cass’ inventory.”

“How’d her apartment look?” Nic asked.

“Untouched. But I found the wires to her alarm and phone cut.”

“Prints?”

“None. Wiped clean,” Greg said.

“Someone knew their job. This isn’t a prank,” Nic said.

“Agreed. I’ll go get Cass and Minerva. You got pictures of everything? They’ll need copies for insurance.”

“All but the office. I’ll get that now.” Nic pushed through the office door. It fell off the remaining hinge as he entered. The frame looked charred, as if someone had tried to start a fire there. Why there when easy fuel lay scattered across the floor?

Broken cartons lay scattered around the room. If anything, the damage here looked even worse than out front. Both desks had been trashed. The drawers that remained intact hung at awkward angles. Pieces of the computers lay on the floor. As he studied the debris, his anger grew—at both whoever had done this and at Cass. She should have waited for him, not come on this destruction alone.

When he’d awoken and found her gone, he’d feared the worst. After talking with Dori and scolding her soundly for her part in the escape, he’d jumped in his truck and torn across town, intending to let Cass know his opinion of her. Then he’d seen this and some of his anger had drained. Some, but not all. At least she hadn’t been here.