Phantoms of Dusk (Society of Magic Book 1)

  “She’s not okay! Mer kidnapped her! Dr. Grant is right. The Phantoms are all liars and tricksters and I can’t believe you’re with them!”

  She ran. Almost tripping over the canvas hose the firefighters had dragged up the stairs, she ran. She had to get away. Mer might have kidnapped Angela, but that fire was meant for Elora. Her parents had died in a fire. Professor Goggins had died in a fire, and Elora was suddenly sure they were connected. And now her dorm room had gone up in flames.

  Fumbling in her pocket for her phone, Elora dashed tears from her eyes, and stabbed the button for Dr. Grant’s cell phone.

  Chapter 28

  “Here, Elora. This will help.” Cup rattled on saucer as Dr. Grant set a steaming cup on the table in front of her. It smelled of ginger and honey and something else mixed with the tea.

  “What’s in it?” Frowning, she blew on it before attempting a sip. She pulled back when it burned the tip of her tongue.

  Dr. Grant sank onto the couch beside her. They sat in his living room. He’d picked her up about a block from her building. She hadn’t wanted to stay there with all the firefighters and the noise, the memory of Angela’s terrified screams and the unholy glee in Mer’s eyes.

  “A splash of rum. Nothing for you to worry about. It’ll help. You’ve had quite a shock tonight.” He had seen the fire trucks and smoke for himself. She’d told him about Angela – part of the story, anyway, not the part about Mer amped up on magic – on the ride to his apartment. Elora tried another sip of tea, finding it still very hot, but drinkable. “When you’re ready, Elora, talk to me. We’ll figure this out together.”

  She drank more of the tea, relaxing as the hot hot liquid slid down her throat, warming her as it hit her stomach. Betrayal was a bitter aftertaste. She had believed the lies Mer had told her about the Phantoms of Dusk and their mission.

  And Ripley.

  She didn’t know what to think about Ripley. She downed the rest of the tea and set the cup back on its saucer.

  One moment, she leaned back into the cushions feeling comfortable, warm. The next, she felt Dr. Grant’s gaze like a physical weight, and she began to speak. She told him everything. Her parents. Her connection to the Phantoms.

  What she’d done to Sophia and Angela. What Mer and Ripley had told her of the Phantoms. The attacks on her by the various supernatural creatures. How she’d stopped the troll. He remained silent the entire time she spoke, nodding to himself here and there in her story.

  Eventually, Elora ran out of words. She reached for her tea but then remembered that she’d finished it. She looked up at Dr. Grant.

  “Do you believe me?”

  He looked a bit stunned by all she’d said, but he nodded. “I do believe you, Elora.” He shifted beside her, turned toward her, one foot on the floor as he crossed his legs to sit more comfortably. The room seemed to spin. It was too warm. She started to close her eyes in the hope it might stop the spinning – how much rum did he put in that tea? – but Dr. Grant caught her gaze, held it. “I read about something in an ancient text.” He reached out and gently took Elora’s hands in his. “Do you trust me?”

  Elora wasn’t entirely sure she did, but she nodded anyway. Dr. Grant turned her right hand over, palm up. With a sharp needle, he pricked her index finger. She had no idea where the needle came from or why he had it so handy. He did it so fast, she didn’t feel any pain. Blood welled where he stuck her, and he squeezed her finger to produce more. Without warning, he touched her bleeding finger to his lips. He stood, staring down at Elora. His eyes seemed to glow from within and his body to grow. His hair ignited. Flickering orange flames danced along his skin until flames engulfed his entire body. And still he stared down at Elora.

  “There it is.” He smiled, but it wasn’t at all friendly. “They keep moving that damned castle. There was no way for me to find it on my own, but you helped me.” He licked his lips and Elora wasn’t sure whether he did it to wipe away her blood or to creep her out. “You’re almost as pretty as your mother, Elora. She was supposed to marry me, you know.”

  He reached for her hands again. Elora shrank back into the cushion as far as she could go, but she couldn’t escape him. He pulled her to her feet. Flames crackled along her skin where he touched her, but there was no heat, no pain, just that tingle she always felt when she used her power. She looked for some way out, but Dr. Grant stood between her and the only exit.

  “I was supposed to serve as ruler of the Phantoms, but then pretty Mallory fell for that filthy wolf Shifter and ruined everything. It took me forever to find her. And then I had to wait for that damned spell she put on you to break.” He pulled her along behind him, heading for the far end of the room and a plastic drop cloth covering the carpet. There was no sign of painting or construction, remodeling of any kind.

  Panic rose inside her. She sought that cold fire in her gut, but it remained out of reach. Even so, she had to do something. Putting everything she had into it, every bit of fear and frustration, anger and betrayal upon betrayal, she ordered, “Let me go.”

  Grant smiled, laughed. She tried pull free, but he tightened his grip to the point the bones of her wrist seemed to grind together. It hurt. “Of course, I couldn’t kill you right away. It wouldn’t have done me any good. The Phantoms had to know who you were to make your death work for me. Not to mention the fact I haven’t found that damned staff yet. Once I have that in hand, no one will be able to stop me.”

  He stopped in the center of the plastic sheet. Flames still danced over him, a second skin, but they weren’t as bright. Elora waited until he relaxed his grip, knowing it would be her last chance. That chance came when he shifted her wrist from one hand to the other. She stomped as hard as she could on his toes and yanked her arm out of his grasp. She ran, but the slick plastic hampered her efforts. She made it to the door when he slammed her into it so hard she couldn’t breathe.

  “That wasn’t very nice, Elora.” He turned her around and studied her face, reached up to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “So pretty. I’d take you as my bride if I could.” He smiled, and the flames he wore grew brighter along with the light behind his eyes. “You know. If I didn’t have to kill you.”

  She lashed out with her knee, hoping to connect with something sensitive, but he sidestepped. She pulled away again while he was a little off balance, but he grabbed her hair, wrapped it around his wrist. Using her own hair against her, she dragged her back to his plastic sheet. It was then she saw the knife on top of the entertainment center. He shoved her to the floor and she landed on her hands and knees.

  “Why won’t you just settle down, girl? The outcome is inevitable. It will hurt less if you let me do it quickly.” He reached for the knife but then grunted, and Elora was free.

  Grant, on the other hand, was trying hard to fight off a cheetah, but that cheetah had his teeth sunk into Grant’s shoulder as he sought to disembowel the burning man with his hind claws. But then Ripley yowled in pain. He fell away from Grant, naked and bleeding from a knife wound in his shoulder.

  Grant started toward Ripley, knife in hand and ready to finish him off. Elora, crying, scrambled to rise, to get to him before he could kill Ripley, but the plastic sheet was slick with blood. Before Grant could follow through, though, a fireball came at him and burst in his face. He screamed once and disappeared.

  Mer stood in the doorway, another fireball in her hand, ready in case of need. Elora ignored the blood on her hands and her clothes, caring only about reaching Ripley and stopping any more of it from leaking out of him.

  “Are you okay?” Ripley gasped out the question even as Elora pulled off her own shirt to stop the flow of blood.

  “Me? You’re bleeding to death, you idiot!”

  Mer left the room and came back a moment later with several towels. “Use these. They’ll work better than your shirt.” She tossed them to Elora and turned away, heading back out of the room.

  “It wasn’t you, was it?” Tears ran
tickling down Elora’s cheeks. “It wasn’t you. It was Dr. Grant who took Angela, and I showed him where the castle is.”

  “Can someone maybe find me some clothes so I don’t freeze to death before we get to the castle?”

  Chapter 29

  Once Elora bandaged Ripley’s shoulder and he dressed in some of Dr. Grant’s clothes, the three of them piled into Mer’s car. Elora rode in back with Ripley. It was the scariest ride of her life. Mer drove like something out of a Fast and Furious movie, weaving in and out of traffic and running lights.

  “This is all your fault. He’s got at least an hour’s head start and thanks to you, there’s nothing to stand between him and that castle.”

  “Give it a rest, Mer.” Ripley sounded exasperated. “There’s nothing between Frost and the castle except a dozen witches inside the damn thing.”

  “Frost?”

  Ripley turned to Elora. His eyes glittered. “Your Dr. Grant’s real name is Peter Frost.”

  “He was exiled from the Phantoms more than a decade ago,” Mer added. She met Elora’s gaze in the rear view mirror.

  “Yeah.” Ripley snorted. “Because the guy’s batshit crazy.” He shifted, wincing as the movement jostled his injured shoulder.

  They fell silent for a few minutes until they reached the Westerly dorms. Rather than parking the car so they could get out and walk, Mer jumped the curb and drove it right through the courtyard, swerving to miss the concrete benches in the center. She didn’t stop until the edge of the woods.

  “Why don’t you just stay here so you can’t do any more damage?”

  Elora ignored Mer, instead leading the way through the woods to the castle. She didn’t have to bother with the spell to open the wards. The castle was clearly visible long before they got anywhere near it. Light poured from the windows. It looked like every room in the castle was lit. There were men and women on the grounds, guarding against anyone getting into or out of the castle. The three of them hunkered down out of sight in the trees.

  “Those are Frost’s people.” Mer glared at Elora. “This is because of your inexperience. If any Phantoms die–”

  “Can it, Mer. That’s not helping.”

  “Stay out of it, Shifter,” Mer barked.

  For a hot minute, Elora thought the two of them might come to blows, but then she spotted movement at the entrance to the castle. Angela walked out of Castle Caldwell, battered and bloodied and headed straight for them.

  None of Frost’s minions tried to stop her, nor did they follow her. She stopped in front of Elora, looking confused as well as scared.

  “The new history teacher says he won’t kill any of the witches inside if you give yourself up.” She frowned, looking from Elora to Ripley to Mer and back to Elora. “’Cause that totally makes sense.”

  Once again, Elora drew on the cold fire inside her. This time, it responded, aching to be released. “Angela, go to the nurse’s office in the admin building.” It was the only place she could think of where her roommate might be safe. There was a nurse on the premises twenty-four hours a day.

  “But how do I get there? I don’t even know where we are.”

  Mer held up her hand, and a brilliant blue witch light appeared. It floated at Angela's eye level. “Follow the blue light. Don’t let anything distract you from that.” Angela did as she was told, and soon she and her light disappeared into the trees.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Elora started walking toward the castle, but Ripley stopped her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “People aren’t going to die for me.”

  “No.” Mer shook her head. “A philosophy is going to die because of you. Do you have any idea what that bastard will do if he takes over? There’s a reason the Frosts weren’t chosen. They don’t believe in the cause, in keeping people safe. You can’t just go in there and die. That’s not what a leader does. You have to make this right.”

  His right arm cradled against his ribs, Ripley steered Elora a few feet away from Mer. “You can do this, Elora. I believe in you. And I’ve got your back, now and always.” He pulled her into his arms and she wanted nothing more than to stay right there, warm and safe. But there were a dozen people in the castle who would die if she didn’t do something to stop it. She pulled back.

  “I need to be alone for a minute.” He nodded and walked back over to Mer.

  Elora sat on the cold ground. She wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her head on her upraised knees. She didn’t know what to do, what was the right thing or what would leave people dead and the Phantoms in the hands of a madman. There was no one she could ask.

  Or was there? Mer had said she spoke to her ancestors. Ripley had confirmed that was a real thing that people did. Could Elora do it? There was only one way to find out. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the fire at her core. She thought of her parents, of their love and their laughter, with each other and with her. Her breathing slowed, evened out. She was no longer cold. Instead, she felt warm. Almost too warm. Elora opened her eyes, and her mother smiled at her from where she sat to Elora’s left. Her father shoulder bumped her from the right.

  “You can do this, Elora,” her mother told her.

  “You’ve always had the power,” her father added.

  “But how?” Elora bit her lower lip, not wanting to whine or worse.

  “Follow your instincts.” She looked at Randall. “They won’t steer you wrong.”

  Mallory moved in front of Elora. “Your power isn’t just in here, Elora.” She laid her hand on Elora’s stomach, where Elora always pictured as the source of her power. “It’s in here” – she tapped Elora’s forehead – “and in here” – she laid her other palm between Elora’s breasts, right over her heart. Before Elora could say anything, there was a flash of heat without light. A spike of sensation she couldn’t begin to describe flowed across her and through her and she knew she would never have any issues tapping into her power again.

  Elora stood and her parents stood with her. Her father pulled her into a hug. “You’ve got this, El.” She had forgotten that’s what he used to call her when she was little. And then they were gone, so much smoke in the wind.

  She rejoined the others, and Mer took the lead as the three of them stormed the castle. They were outnumbered, but never outclassed. The boldness of their assault kept the guards from doing anything to prevent entry, and when they finally did start to fight, Mer sent her fireballs into them.

  Elora expected Ripley to shift into cheetah form, but he didn’t. Even so, he took out a man who came at Elora even as she dispatched another with a jolt of electricity she shot from her fingertips.

  “You and your boyfriend keep them distracted.” Elora looked up at the sound of Mer’s voice. “I’m going after Frost.”

  “No need to go after me, my dear. I’m right here.” Frost stood at the top of the stairs. He smiled at them and burst into flames. Behind Elora there was a thud, something solid striking fragile flesh, and someone screamed. Frost and Mer each sent pure energy flowing into the other, but Frost was stronger. Mer fell. Frost jogged down the stairs, toed Mer’s limp body, but she didn’t respond. Elora didn’t know if she was dead or alive, but she knew Frost had to be stopped. Following her instincts, Elora blasted Frost, knocking him backward to land gasping like a fish three steps up.

  “She’s not who you want.” Elora started up the stairs. “She’s not the leader. I am.”

  Her power surged, and with one booming echo, she commanded everyone, Phantom and interloper alike, outside. Frost laughed at Elora’s order, but soon only he and Ripley remained.

  “Don’t.” Ripley gritted out the word, fighting Elora’s compulsion. “I won’t leave you. Don’t make me.” His fists clenched. The veins stood out at the sides of his neck and in his forehead with the effort to disobey her command. “Though I’m impressed you have the power to force all these supernaturals to do your bidding. That’s kind of not how your power has traditionally worked.”
>
  “I’m not a traditional girl, and I need to do this on my own. I need to stand up and make my voice heard.” She stood on her toes and kissed him. “Please go.”

  Something in him eased. “As you wish, milady.” He smiled at her then and walked away of his own free will.

  Elora turned to Frost. She thought he was kind of an idiot for not attacking her while she and Ripley talked, but she didn’t say it aloud.

  “I’ve had your blood, little girl. Mind tricks won’t work on me.”

  “Good. I want to do this the right way.” She threw up her hand and a bolt of energy shot out at him. He deflected it with ease.

  “Is that all you’ve got, little girl?”

  She let the taunt go, but it was only the first of many, and they got harder to dodge the longer they fought. He just would not stop talking.

  “You do know I killed your parents, don’t you, little Elora?”

  He dodged an energy bolt and sent it right back at her. “Your daddy was pinned in the car. When the flames took him, he couldn’t control his shifting. Wolf. Man. Wolf. Man. He was neither when he finally died.”

  Tears flowed freely down Elora’s face. She sent another burst of energy, and again, he dodged it.

  “I watched you, you know. You were such an adorable child.” He shook his head and made a tsking sound. “Such a waste of potential. You are nothing, Elora Caldwell. You’ll never be anything. You should die just like your little friend.” He sent a streak of heat and light arrowing at her head.

  Her eyes widened and Sophie’s face swam before her eyes. Again, acting on pure instinct, Elora didn’t dodge the laser-like attack. She stepped into it instead, absorbing Frost’s energy into her own.

  “You first.” The energy bomb she sent at him was unstoppable. He couldn’t dodge it, couldn’t deflect it. The power of it was off the charts, the product of Elora’s and Frost’s combined powers.