Storm Of Magick Part 8
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The same jagged incision as the other victims; it was the same sharp blade. I bet ten to one there was at least one missing organ, maybe more. I stuck my hand into the opening, trying to feel my way around. My hands ached from the cold blood that was almost the consistency of thickening Jell-o.
The body was freezing. A thin layer of ice had already started to form on the organs. The flashlight shown the body was in shades of deep red and purple. The uterus and the bladder were gone. Whoever did this had a considerable amount of anatomical knowledge and surgical skill there wasn't doubt about it. Just like the second vic, there weren't any meaningless wounds. Strictly business. But, with the first victim, the killer didn't have the patience, or maybe the time.
"Again with the missing organs," I said aloud. I stood and pulled the latex gloves off. I held up my left hand in a stopping motion. I was trying to sense the level of magick residue from just the hint of magick that was left. My hand ran along the energy and it felt physical to me.
We walked back to Doyle, and I could sense the Dracae close by, as if it was watching over me. A hint of lilacs in the air seemed to follow me wherever I went now. We came around the corner where the vehicles were parked, and everyone had taken up refuge in their cars. The coroner's people had finally made it to the scene and were getting their equipment out.
Doyle and Cooper got out of their cars and walked towards us. "What do you have for me?" Doyle asked, already lighting a cigarette. Man, I hoped he carried a carton of those things around. Because he went through a s.h.i.+t load of them and I didn't want to be in f.u.c.king ear range when he ran out.
"What I want to know is, are there any ties to the occult?" Cooper asked, a little too close to my personal s.p.a.ce, and I didn't know him well enough for that. Plus, with bad breath you never stand so close to anyone. Just bad manners.
"For one thing, you need to back off a little," I stated, getting angry. I told them what I found during my examination. I thought the same person carried out all the murders. "This person is very meticulous and methodical, a different breed of killer." But, in the back of my mind I thought the last two scenes still seemed familiar.
"Are the murders ritualistic?" Doyle asked, writing everything down.
"Maybe to the killer. I haven't found any occult signs. I found residue of a magick circle again. There is some sort of magick here. So yes, that means the S.S.U. has jurisdiction," I answered. Sheriff Cooper stomped off like a spoiled child. I guess he didn't want to hear the truth. "Have you found any connection between the victims?"
"Not as of yet but we're still checking a couple of leads. Does this person have medical knowledge?" Doyle asked with his pen ready.
"I would a.s.sume yes, but I can't say definitely. Again, organs were removed. The person would have to know about human anatomy or butchering, something," I said.
"What organs were removed this time?" Doyle asked. He pulled out another cigarette.
"The uterus, the upper portion of the v.a.g.i.n.a, and part of the bladder. Hicks will know more, I'm sure. But it's my best guess," I said. "Do these murders seem familiar to you?"
"Not really. I never thought of a copycat. Why?" Doyle asked, taking a long drag off his cigarette.
"I don't know. It's like I've seen pictures of crime scenes identical to these," I answered, "Have you been able to collect any physical evidence?" The wind picked up. I wanted to get out of the cold.
"No, this guy knows how to clean up after himself," Doyle grumbled.
"Are we done? It's going to take us forever to get across town in this s.h.i.+t," I said.
"Yeah, go ahead. I'll call you if I have any other questions."
I had no doubt about that. I nodded and started walking, Paris right next to me. I'd been out in the cold too long - my hands and feet were numb. We got in the van. Paris started the engine and turned on the heat while I s.h.i.+vered uncontrollably. Paris rubbed my arms and hands, trying to help me warm up. With that one innocent touch, the surge started to stir, something I didn't need this right now.
"Paris, we need to get back to the Realm. I mean as soon as possible. My power is making a service call."
"It's too soon," he said urgently.
"No s.h.i.+t, I think I know that," I said through chattering teeth.
He got us turned around and started heading back. It wasn't fast enough. I didn't have the willpower to control the surge by myself. Each time was worse than before, more powerful. It was as if the surge was its own living, breathing ent.i.ty. I stretched in the seat belt, trying to bite Paris' neck.
"Logan, we're going to have an accident..." he said in a low voice and slapped at my hand.
With the surge in control, I really didn't give a s.h.i.+t what happened. Paris tried to wiggle me off but only succeeded in swerving. I hit my head against the window, which brought me back to myself just enough to think.
"Call Ronan. I can't control this. It's worse than it's ever been," I said, digging my nails into my jeans, hoping the pain would shake the surge's hold on me. Paris pulled off the road. He cautiously reached into my pocket and retrieved my cell. The pain helped a little, it was better than nothing. He dialed the number and stuck the phone to his ear.
"Ronan, its Paris. The surge has risen again and Logan can't control it. I'm trying to drive but can't help her at the same time. What can I do besides s.e.x?" Paris asked.
There was a long pause with a few "uh huhs" here and there. "Okay, I'm going to lay the phone down and try it."
Paris placed his hand over my chest, his lips moving. He was doing a spell. I tried to clear my mind and just let whatever he was doing happen. I felt a magick vibration start to stir. I didn't know what spell he was doing, or what it was for, but I just hoped it worked. Paris's hand started radiating heat. His hand glowed white, and his magick fed the surge. I got a sudden jolt of some heavy-duty magick and everything went dark.
Chapter 11.
I woke up in the middle of a king-sized bed. It was quiet and the room smelled of jasmine. I was in the white and gold room where my clothes were kept. Everything was just as pristine as before. I turned my head to find Ronan sitting next to me, and no one else in the room.
"Where's Paris?" I asked.
"He is getting something to eat. How are you feeling?" Ronan asked, holding my hand. I looked at my hand, then at him, and Ronan let go, folding his hands and placing them in his lap. At this angle, his skin seemed to glow for a split second.
"What in the h.e.l.l happened?" I asked. I was just full of questions.
"In a word, your inner demon received a magick overload. Your body could not handle it and you pa.s.sed out," he said in his calming Irish tone. Sad to say, but I could listen to him talk forever.
"Why is the surge becoming so strong and erratic?" I asked my head spinning.
"I do not know. Ailin has been researching everything dealing with natural witches since the first surge. The only solution for now is an intertwine spell. We believe it will give you total control," he replied in a careful voice as if he wasn't sure how I was going to react.
"You believe!" I cried. "Are you f.u.c.king nuts?" I was stunned that he wanted to try something so risky with my magick knowing it was already s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up.
"As with all magick, it is hard to predict the outcome," Ronan said no emotion on his face.
Ronan wasn't pulling any punches. I couldn't complain that's how I liked it. It's a b.i.t.c.h when you only want the truth. I dropped my head. I hated to do it, but I didn't see any other option. I couldn't live like this, not knowing when the surge was going to strike, or who it would hurt when it did.
If the intertwine spell would help with my control, I was all for it. Ronan explained how the spell was performed, then climbed on to the bed across from me. We sat cross-legged facing each other with our palms touching. I was to repeat each line of the spell, until a certain point, than he would finish it.
The spell wasn't the easiest. It was in Gaelic, a language I wasn't familiar with, let alone fluent in. It was song-like, hypnotic. I felt the magickal tie between us intertwine like a warm thread. Then a cool wind circled us with a jolt. Now my magick was intertwined with Ronan's, for better or worse. In theory, I could control the surge with his added help. It could even go dormant, which sounded even better, but only time would tell. But, was it worth the sacrifice of being tied even closer to Ronan?
"How long was I out?" I asked after we worked the spell.
"About four hours. Are you feeling better?" Ronan asked.
I stopped and really thought about it. "Yeah, I feel like myself again. In fact I feel pretty good, thank you," I said with a smile.
Impulsively, I leaned over and kissed him. Ronan placed his hands my face and lowered us to the bed with me on top. We kissed again, searching each other's mouth. I broke away to look at him. It felt weirdly familiar to be with him. I couldn't understand my sudden rush of feelings. I pulled back and stared into his eyes.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
I opened and closed my mouth twice before I could speak. "I want you to tell me why I have feelings for you. Why I feel like I've known you forever."
There was something in his eyes, as if I'd sparked a memory in him. I could sense his mind racing, as if trying to figure out what to say so he wouldn't p.i.s.s me off. A moment later, there was a knock at the door. It opened and Ailin walked in.
"Did you need something?" Ailin asked. Ronan must have summoned him.
"Logan would like to know why I am familiar to her," Ronan said as if mocking my question.
I looked from one to the other. Ailin's mouth literally dropped open. He took a couple steps into the room, unshed tears in his eyes.
"Would one of you say something?" I said. I could feel my heart racing and taste sweet vashon magick on the back of my tongue.
"Have you had any dreams or visions of me? Of before I became a vashon?" Ronan asked. I thought he was joking but the look on his face said he was serious.
"No, why?" I asked.
"Maybe it is not time yet," Ailin said, looking at Ronan.
"Okay, someone better start talking and I mean now," I said, irritated now.
I got off the bed and started pacing around the room. Ronan walked to the couch and stopped. Over the small gold couch was a fifteen-foot gold tapestry hanging on the wall. He grabbed the edge of the cloth and pulled. It fell to the floor with a whoosh and a cloud of dust.
What I saw left me speechless. There were several portraits of me. I walked toward the pictures, stopping a couple of feet back so I could take them all in. Their faces were definitely mine, but some of the women in the portraits had black hair, and others brown. The portraits ranged from the sixteenth century to the early twentieth century. Each woman was styled in the best-that-money-could-buy clothing and jewelry of her era.
"Are these women supposed to be me?" I asked, touching one of the paintings. I could feel the rough brush strokes under my fingers.
"No. This was my wife, Katherine." Ronan gestured to the earliest portrait. "She was also Ailin's little sister. The other portraits are of the reincarnation of Katherine after that. The next was Grace, then Selena, Elizabeth, Madeleine, and last before you was Evelyn." There was such sadness in his voice, and I felt his deep love for each of them.
"Logan, are you well?" Ailin asked. He walked and stood behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders and that too felt familiar.
"No I'm not. I'm staring at myself in six different times," I said, totally freaked out.
"I believe that you are the most recent reincarnation of Katherine," Ronan said in his stay-calm voice.
"You tied me to you because you think I'm Katherine. You son of a b.i.t.c.h!" I yelled. My head swam, my knees locked, and I started to go down. Ailin picked me up and carried me to the bed. I heard arguing outside the room and sat up.
Ronan and I looked at each other. I got off the bed and went to check out what all the commotion was about. I wasn't in the mood for this, not now. The yelling sounded urgent. I opened the door and walked down the corridor towards the yelling. Ronan was right on my heels even though he could've been there in a blink of an eye.
In the living room, I found Alex, Paris, and Caleb standing nose-to-nose-to-nose and shouting. All three were talking at the same time and I couldn't tell what the h.e.l.l the argument was about. I put my finger, thumb into my mouth, and whistled. A sharp sound, especially bouncing off the stone walls. Everyone stopped and looked at me. Something had definitely ruffled their s.h.i.+t and I wanted to know what was going on.
"Okay, what in the h.e.l.l is going on?" I asked, looking straight at Alex, who ought to know better than to start a bunch of s.h.i.+t.
No one said anything. They just looked at each other, as if they were children caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. I looked at each one of them and I knew full well who had started the argument. I could feel it in my bones.
"Alex, what is going on?" I asked again, taking another step towards him. Still no one answered. "Okay, let me answer this for everyone. You're the only one totally freaked out about the ripple hitting you and you're p.i.s.sed that I don't want you. Don't deny it. I can sense it coming from you like a fine tremble in the air. As a matter of fact, you're p.i.s.sed because if it came down right to it, I would happily screw any other man in this room except you. You know what you can do? You can kiss my a.s.s."
Alex snarled at me. "My life's difficult enough. I don't need you pulling me into your strange s.h.i.+t. And did Caleb tell you that he was leaving the clan?" he asked, taking a step toward me.
"Do you think she meant to do this?" Paris snapped from behind me.
"Stay out of this, Paris!" Alex bellowed. "I'm not talking to you."
"Tell her why I'm leaving!" Caleb said in a low voice, looking at the floor.
I looked at the two of them and settled on Alex. He was the big man with all the answers and full of bulls.h.i.+t. I could feel everyone's power vibrating along my skin. Someone was about to explode and not in a good way. Again, all three resorted to yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. The room started shaking, a tremor in Little Rock. Yeah, not! I looked at them all, trying to figure out who was doing this.
Suddenly the room grew dark. I could just make out Ronan moving further into the room. "Everyone needs to just stop!" he shouted, trying to control the situation.
The darkness fled and the room stopped shaking. In fact, no one could move except Ronan and me.
"Well I guess we know your new power. But who can call darkness and who caused the ground to shake?" I asked, taking a step, "Your power doesn't affect me. Why?"
"I think it has something to do with these powers coming from you," Ronan answered.
It took about five seconds, and then the men could move again. The ruthless smile on Ronan face said he was pleased with his new ability and with me for giving it to him.
"Ronan, don't you ever do that to me again," Alex said, his eyes bleeding all yellow. How did he know it was Ronan?
"Then do not act like a child and I will not be forced to," Ronan said as if he were scolding a child.
"Caleb, why are you leaving the clan?" I asked.
"Because if I stay with the clan I'll have to move out of my home our home - and I refuse to do that," he answered looking as if his heart was broken.
I looked at Alex; he couldn't hold my gaze.
"I can't believe that you're so pathetic, to give an ultimatum like this." I turned to Caleb, about to say something, which could tear mine and Alex's friends.h.i.+p apart. Screw that, Alex and I weren't friends; we tolerated each other because of our places in the supernatural community. "You are always welcome to stay; it's your home too." Caleb was like a little brother to me and I wasn't going to let Alex bully him.
Again all the men resorted to yelling at the top of their lungs. I had enough of this bulls.h.i.+t. My coat sat on the couch arm; I picked it up and walked down the corridor. As I walked down the hall, I quietly said a spell so no one would notice I had left. I opened the door to the parking lot. The snow had piled up on my van again. I started it, cleaned off the winds.h.i.+eld and was gone before anyone tried to stop me. Let me tell you, I was hauling a.s.s.
The road had been freshly plowed. There was still snow on the road but it wasn't too bad. I was going home to Nemo. At least I would get one night of peace and quiet. So much had happened today and I just needed a break, and time to think about those portraits.
I came around the curve and there in the middle of my lane stood a huge buck with large antlers on its head. I swerved to miss it. My van went into a spin, jumped the ditch and finally my ride came to a quick end when I hit a tree.
It was the last thing I remembered before I pa.s.sed out. When I came to I heard metal being twisted. My door was being ripped off the hinges. I opened my eyes to find out three things: I had a ma.s.sive headache, I could feel blood on my forehead, and the Dracae had picked me up and was carrying me somewhere. Again, my sight was swallowed by the consuming darkness.
This time when I woke, I was in a pitch-black room I couldn't see s.h.i.+t and worse I wasn't able to move. I heard water dripping. The room smelled of sweat, s.e.x, and blood. I knew I wasn't alone. And, it didn't take my witch senses to know that.
"Who's there?" I asked. You know how you hear about your other senses kicking in when one's taken away from you? Well, from what I could tell that was bull.
I heard someone right behind me and then I realized I was actually tied to another person. I moved. I felt a hand, a man's hand. It wasn't rough or baby soft, and it felt cold. He had been tied up way too long and the circulation had been cut off for a while.
"My name is Rafe," he said in a raspy voice, as if he needed a drink.
"I'm Logan. Are you the werefox King that's been missing?"
"Yes. What day is it?" he asked.
Storm Of Magick Part 8
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Storm Of Magick Part 8 summary
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