Dark Arts and a Daiquiri (The Guild Codex: Spellbound Book 2), Page 7

  The path led to a wooden bridge that crossed the narrowest part of the pond. On the other side, the small gazebo with white posts and a sharp-peaked tile roof stood like a lonely sentinel at the water’s edge.

  The wood thumped hollowly under my shoes and I glanced at the still water. Creepy, creepy, creeeepy. Despite the warm evening, gooseflesh covered my bare arms and I wished I’d worn a jacket. I stepped onto the gravel path, the dark gazebo just ahead.

  Tori. Bryce’s voice cracked in my head. Where are you?

  Adrenaline shot through me. Right here. I just crossed the footbridge.

  Zora can’t see you. Taye—a pause—Taye’s lost you too.

  Taye had lost me? How could he lose me? Tracking people was his psychic ability. If they could see me on the path before, they should be able to see me now. I was still in the open.

  Something is wrong, Bryce barked. Don’t move. Just wait.

  My heart hammered against my ribs. Elegant trees and carefully shaped shrubbery surrounded the gazebo, obscuring my view. I squinted into the structure. A shadow, darker than the others, lurked beneath the peaked roof.

  Tori? Bryce asked. I can sense your fear. What is it?

  The answer to his question bloomed in my mind, so overpowering I almost whispered the words out loud.

  He’s here.

  Chapter Seven

  My racing pulse thudded in my ears, then Bryce’s terse whisper. What?

  He’s in the gazebo. He’s waiting for me.

  I could see his silhouette—darkness, too solid to be a shadow, in the rough shape of a man. Now that I’d spotted him, prickles ran over my skin, my instincts belatedly informing me I was being watched.

  Bryce’s voice filled my head. We still can’t see you. Go back to the bridge.

  The Ghost had spotted me. I’d spotted him. If I retreated, he would know something was off. I’d already been standing here for too long. I squared my shoulders and took a step—moving closer to the gazebo.

  I’m approaching him. Tell everyone to get ready.

  Trepidation buzzed through me—Bryce’s emotions leaking through the link between our minds. Standing by.

  Now for the tricky part. I would approach the Ghost, engage him in conversation, and keep him focused on me while the team closed off any escape routes. Then I would put as much distance between me and the Ghost as I could, right before Aaron, Kai, and Ezra attacked. From this point onward, I didn’t need to consciously update Bryce. Speaking and thinking were simultaneous processes, so if I stayed focused, he’d “hear” our conversation.

  I minced toward the gazebo, my stare fixed on the dark shadow that was the Ghost. He leaned against the white railing, arms folded, clad all in black with a long villainous coat, its hood pulled up. He even wore black gloves, every inch of his skin hidden.

  Stepping onto the wooden floor, I searched the shadows beneath his hood. I should have been able to make out something of his face—the gleam of his eyes, the shape of his chin—but I saw nothing, the darkness impenetrable.

  I stopped with the full length of the gazebo between us, but four paces weren’t anywhere near enough to protect me. Gregory’s promise that this man wouldn’t harm me were so many meaningless words—not that I’d believed them in the first place.

  “Victoria Dawson.”

  A shudder ran over me. That voice. Deep. Raspy and rumbly at the same time. Quiet and dangerous.

  And … not as old as I’d expected. How young, I didn’t know, but he wasn’t a croaky senior.

  “That’s—” The word came out in a squeak. I wet my lips and tried again. “That’s me. Who are you? Mr. Stern didn’t … he didn’t say … exactly.”

  I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but that probably wasn’t a bad thing. Victoria the orphaned diviner would’ve been just as terrified as Tori the guild bartender.

  “Why are you here?”

  The question cut through me, the words delivered with quiet, cutting precision.

  “I … huh?”

  “What do you want?”

  Shit. He was testing me. I thought he’d persuade me to come quietly with a “special safe house” story like Gregory’s, but it looked like I needed to convince him—and if I gave the wrong answer, our interview would be over. That would be bad news for Nadine and for me.

  Had he asked her the same question? How would she have answered? If sixteen-year-old me had found herself here, what would she have said?

  “I want to start again,” I whispered hoarsely. “I want to leave everything else behind and start a new life.”

  The team is over the wall. Keep him distracted, Tori.

  I tried in vain to find the Ghost’s eyes through the unnatural darkness beneath his hood. “Did Mr. Stern tell you about my tarot cards? My mom and grandma taught me, but they’re—they’re dead. He said you’d be familiar with my … abilities.”

  The Ghost pushed off the railing and straightened to his full height—a couple inches taller than I’d realized. Enough to tower over me even several paces away.

  “I would be,” he rumbled, “if you had those abilities.”

  My racing heart screeched to a halt. “W-what?”

  “You fooled him. You can’t fool me.”

  Oh shit.

  Tori! Bryce’s voice made me start. Where are you?

  In the gazebo!

  Kai can see into the gazebo. He says it’s empty!

  I’m right here! I shouted in my head, inching backward. Out loud, I mumbled, “What are you saying?”

  “Victoria Dawson, you are no diviner.” He regarded me from under his dark hood. The night was too still and silent, like only he and I existed inside the gazebo and everything beyond it was no more than a dream—or a nightmare.

  Abort mission.

  I sucked in a breath.

  Abort mission! Bryce’s command thundered through me. Disengage now, Tori.

  What? Quit when I had the elusive rogue right in front of me? What about Nadine?

  “Why are you here?” the Ghost asked again, his deep voice quieter, the words more ominous. Threat whispered in the unmoving air, the promise of punishment. I had deceived him. I was his enemy.

  Abort, Tori!

  If I tried to leave, the Ghost would kill me. I could feel it.

  “I—I—” Gulping, I changed tactics. “You’re right. I’m not a diviner. I’m … not a mythic at all.”

  The slightest twitch of his hood. He hadn’t expected that. “Then why are you here?”

  Help, I thought as loud as I could. I can’t leave or he’ll attack.

  Okay, stay calm. The team is moving in. Be ready to run.

  But the Ghost was waiting for my answer, and he wouldn’t wait much longer. However close the team was, they weren’t close enough.

  I closed my eyes, terror singing in my veins. I’d fooled Gregory Stern, but I couldn’t deceive this mythic. He could see right through me; I could feel his hidden eyes on my soul. What lie could I speak that would convince him I was like Nadine? How did I convince him I was a desperate, hopeless, lost girl who needed to erase her past and start again?

  My eyes snapped open. I wasn’t lost and hopeless—but I had been. I’d lived that way for years. And at the youth shelter, I’d relived it. I’d been melting down when Gregory first spoke to me. Was that how I’d convinced him I was a legit runaway?

  How easy it was. Like flipping a switch in my head, the rage swept through me—fury forged from years of enduring my father’s drunken neglect, from every adult in my life ignoring my pleas for help, from the maddening helplessness. My hands clenched. My lips pulled back from my teeth. The broken teenager within me reared her head.

  “I’m here because anything is better than what I have now,” I spat. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t care.”

  Silence rang in the still night. Bryce was speaking in my mind but I blocked him out, concentrating on the Ghost.

  “Take me away.” I glared into his hood. “
That’s why you’re here, right? Take me somewhere else. I don’t care where.”

  The Ghost studied me, his cold consideration a tangible weight on my skin. He was deciding what to do with me—and my time was up.

  Tori! Bryce’s mental voice cut into my focus. The team can’t reach you!

  That got my attention. What?

  It’s a trap! You’re inside a barrier and we can’t get to you!

  The Ghost finally moved, stepping toward me. One gloved hand rose, turning upward, fingers spread in invitation. “You have a choice. Walk away. Or come with me.”

  He was giving me the option to walk away? Or would he kill me if I tried?

  Tori. Bryce’s voice jabbed me. The sorcerers can’t break his barrier spell. You need to get yourself out.

  “If you come with me,” the Ghost warned, “there is no going back. You will never return.”

  I stared at his gloved hand, outstretched and waiting. Nadine had probably stood in this exact spot two months ago, facing that same hand. Facing the same cloaked figure offering her an escape from the only life she knew. You will never return.

  Nadine had taken his offer. Whatever she had been fleeing, she’d been so desperate to escape it that the promise of no return hadn’t stopped her.

  My thoughts were too loud and obvious, and Bryce’s panic spiraled through mine. No! he yelled. That’s suicide, Tori!

  If I walked away, we would never find Nadine. She would be lost to the Ghost, forgotten and abandoned. She’d wanted a fresh start, and this dark monster had preyed on her desperation. He’d taken her freedom. He’d taken her life.

  I couldn’t abandon her. I wasn’t a mythic, but I wasn’t a scared teenager either. I knew how to handle myself, and I could be damn resourceful when the situation called for it. Wherever the Ghost took me, I would get her out—or get my mages in to rescue us.

  “Choose,” he commanded.

  No one else would save her. It had to be me.

  I raised my hand, my fingers hovering above his black leather glove.

  No! Bryce shouted in my head. Don’t!

  Swallowing my pounding heart, I lowered my hand onto the cool leather. The Ghost’s fingers curled around mine.

  You don’t understand! Bryce bellowed frantically. We figured it out! He isn’t a sorcerer. He’s—

  The Ghost’s grip tightened and cold, alien power raced up my arm, leaving numbness in its wake.

  —a druid.

  My vision went dark and I pitched forward into the Ghost’s waiting embrace.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hello?”

  I scrunched my eyes as the word reverberated in my ears.

  “Hellooooo?” the dry, sarcastic voice repeated. A finger poked my forehead. “Wakey-wakey, ginger.”

  With effort, I forced my eyes open. Dazzling sunlight blinded me, then a head appeared above mine, blocking the glare. Thin eyebrows arched above blue-gray eyes in a young face, and messy brunette bangs were tangled over her forehead in a boyish style.

  “Nadine?” I blurted. Or, I tried to. My throat was so dry that all I managed was a strangled gasp.

  “Hey, don’t freak.” Nadine straightened, her hands on her narrow hips. “Victoria, right?”

  I blinked repeatedly, my brain struggling to catch up. I was horizontal, a pillow under my head. Above me was … the top half of a bunk bed? And beside the bed was the missing girl I’d been desperate to find.

  Nadine was standing right here, waiting for me to speak.

  Well, shit. I’d been abducted. It was the only explanation.

  Nadine snapped her fingers in my face and I started. Wide-eyed, I gawked at her. She looked … fine. No bruises, burns, or cuts. Clean, hair washed, a healthy pink tint to her cheeks.

  “Your name is Victoria?” Nadine asked again.

  I swallowed to get some moisture back in my mouth. “Call me Tori.”

  “I’m Nadine.” She gave me a slow appraisal that wasn’t particularly friendly. Caution lurked in her eyes. “Ready to begin?”

  “Begin … what?”

  “If you’re here, you’re here to work. No slackers allowed.” Gesturing for me to get up, she backed away from the bunk. “You didn’t think you were getting a free ride, did you?”

  I slid out of the bed, my thrift-store clothes rumpled, and surreptitiously slipped my hand into my back pocket. My fingers brushed the Queen of Spades’ edge.

  “Where is here?” I asked.

  She eyed me like I was a dangerous animal. “You chose this.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

  “Then don’t complain. No one likes complainers.” She tugged her blue t-shirt down even though it was three sizes too big and hung past her hips. “Another piece of advice. Everyone here has a story, and it’s none of your business.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. Before I said anything—before I revealed I was here to help her—I needed information. Starting with where I was, who “everyone” was, and if the Ghost was nearby.

  “Come on.” She waved at me. “You already missed breakfast.”

  Stumbling after her on wobbly legs, I scanned the room—small, with two tidy bunk beds, the patched blankets spread smooth. A simple dresser with four drawers stood in the corner. That was it, but hey, at least it wasn’t a dungeon.

  Nadine pointed at the dresser on her way by. “Third drawer is yours. You can pick out clothes from the bin.”

  I followed her into a hallway with wooden walls. The air smelled like a spice cabinet—herbs and seasonings and dried green things.

  We walked into a huge kitchen. Butcher-block counters, an old gas range, a significantly newer industrial-sized fridge, and a giant island that stretched the length of the room. Sturdy shelves lined the far wall, and stacked on them were bottles, vials, and glass jars filled with all manner of substances.

  At the island, two people stood over baskets filled with freshly cut plants. The guy had a dusky complexion, short black hair, and a cropped beard, young but way closer to thirty than twenty. The girl was my age, her hair done in braids and a smattering of freckles over her cheeks, almost invisible against her deep bronze skin.

  Nadine tipped her head toward them. “That’s Omar and Nekhii.”

  The pair glanced up from their work, their unsmiling faces giving me pause. Omar’s eyebrows furrowed, while Nekhii stared vacantly. I offered a half-hearted wave as I followed Nadine out the door into the sunshine.

  I squinted my eyes into focus—then stopped dead.

  “Problem?” Nadine sounded almost smug.

  Gulping, I muttered, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

  Mountains are beautiful. I love mountains. Never in my life had the sight of mountains sent arctic fear trembling through me.

  I was standing in a valley surrounded by magnificent peaks. Forests climbed the slopes, while lush grassland dotted with trees filled the valley basin, bisected by a winding river. As I turned in a slow, horrified circle, I saw nothing but meadow and mountain. The wooden cabin I’d walked out of was the only domicile.

  There was a barn, a shed, and a few other outbuildings. A massive garden. A fenced-in pasture. No garage. No vehicles. There wasn’t even a road. Why the hell was there no road?

  “So this is the new addition?”

  The sharp voice cut through my daze, and I finally noticed the people scattered around the property—two guys walking out of the barn, a woman kneeling in the garden, more distant figures in the pasture where horses, goats, sheep, and a handful of cows grazed.

  A woman stopped in front of me, an herb basket under one arm. Mid-thirties, blond hair in a short faux-hawk, and the tanned skin and lean body of someone who spent all day working outside. Her stern scrutiny swept over me from head to toe.

  “Scrawny,” she commented. “Expect to put on muscle, Victoria. Lifting hay bales for a few weeks will tone you right up.”

  “Uh.” I didn’t know what to say
. Not a word popped into my head. Normally, speechlessness was a non-issue for me, but right now? I was speechless.

  “She goes by Tori,” Nadine informed the woman. “Tori, this is Morgan. She’s in charge whenever he’s not here, so do what she says or she’ll kick your ass.”

  As a connoisseur of smartassery, I almost smiled—except Nadine wasn’t smiling. Neither was Morgan. They were dead serious.

  I coughed awkwardly. “Who is ‘he’?”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “He is the one who brought you here. If you want to stay, then you’ll do your share of the work. Don’t, and you’ll answer to him.”

  There was that word again. Work. What was this place? A hand-picked slave camp?

  Drawing myself up, I met Morgan’s flinty stare with my own. “Look, I don’t know how the rest of you got here, but I don’t have a freaking clue where I am, what this place is, or who he is aside from a creepy dude in black. So how about you give me an actual explanation instead of all this vague hostility?”

  Morgan handed her basket to Nadine, then got in my face. “If you want answers, you’ll have to earn them. Maybe you didn’t hear Nadine, but I’m in charge here and you will speak to me with respect.”

  “If you want respect,” I shot back, holding my ground, “you’ll have to earn it.”

  She grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward as she twisted my arm—a basic throw-down martial arts maneuver. My old taekwondo training kicked in and I broke her hold, my fist snapping out for a strike to her sternum.

  She caught my wrist again, and this time I didn’t have a chance to defend before she flipped me over her shoulder. I slammed into the ground, wheezing.

  The air shimmered, then a shape manifested above me—bared fangs in a feline snout. A huge white cat crouched over me, snarling in my face. I choked on a gasp, paralyzed.

  Morgan stepped closer, leaning over me and the giant cat. “Tori, meet Niari, my familiar. She doesn’t like it when people try to hit me.”