Magic on the Hunt (6)

  I don’t know how long I endured, wrapped in Victor’s magic and Zay’s embrace while Shame ripped my mind apart. Maybe seconds. Maybe a year. Fear took hold where just a moment before pain had resided. How much of my mind would be left after Shame was done? How much of me would my father allow to be destroyed before he gave me up?

  Dane’s words came back to me. “Your father Closed you many times. Used you. Filling up the holes in you he’s been making for himself all these years. Taking up the room he’s carved out in you.”

  Much too late, I realized there was no way to stop Shame, to tell Victor or Zayvion what I suddenly knew. My father would let me die before he ever allowed them to remove him from my mind.

  Chapter Five

  “There, now. That’s a sight better, isn’t it?” Shame’s voice. Still in front of me.

  I blinked. I was standing in the center of the room, breathing hard, covered in sweat, shaking. My back was pressed up against Zayvion, his arms wrapped around me, helping me stay on my feet. Pain—and I knew I had just been through a lot of it—was a foggy memory. I took a second to lean back into Zay, then worked on supporting myself.

  Did okay. Zay shifted his grip so his hands rested on my hips, long fingers tucked into my front pockets.

  “What happened?” I asked. I could really use a drink of water. Maybe a chair to sit in. Or a bed to pass out on.

  Shame put his hand on my good arm, and I jerked away from him. Instinct told me he had hurt me. I did not want him touching me.

  He took a step back and held both hands palm up, looking first at me, then over my shoulder at Zay.

  “We got a good, close look at exactly how your father is possessing you,” Shame said.

  “Look?” I asked. “All that pain for a look?”

  “No,” Victor said. “There is more. Would you like to sit?”

  “Not here. Not in here. I want out, need out.” I suddenly didn’t like this little room. This little room was too easily filled with pain.

  “We can go outside, if you like,” Victor said. “There will be more people there.”

  “I don’t care. How long have I been in here?” It felt like months, years.

  “Five minutes,” Shame said.

  The absurdity of that brought my panicking thoughts into focus. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  He shook his head. “We were able to drag him out of a few core places in your mind, but he’s still in there, hooked in tight. Five minutes was all the pain we dared let you tolerate, so we stopped.”

  “You shouldn’t have. You should have just done it. I was already in pain. You should have pulled him out no matter how much it hurt.”

  “It could have killed you, love,” Shame said. “Stopped your heart or stroked you out. He’s . . . entrenched.”

  Victor was pacing the circle of the room again, this time clockwise, pausing at each door and working the spells until he was back where he had begun. A brief pause, a few motions, and then he opened the door.

  “Still hurting?” Zay asked me quietly. His breath smelled like mint, and every place we touched was warm and tingly. He walked with me, one arm around my back, fingers slipped in my front pocket. At first I wanted to brush him off, but after a few steps I was glad he was there. Not because I was uncertain on my feet but because I was feeling strangely vulnerable, like I’d just had the worst root canal in my life.

  “Not really hurting,” I said. “Just. Hell.”

  A hot surge of anger flashed through Zay. Anger at Shame for hurting me. I could not deal with the heat of it.

  “Easy,” I said. “He was trying to help me. Dad’s the problem.”

  Then, to Victor, I said, “Tell me that was worth it.”

  “It was,” Victor said from behind us. He waited until we were seated again. I belatedly noticed the Georgia sisters were in the room. I used to think they were called the Georgia sisters because that was their last name. Turned out they were each named after a city in Georgia, so the nickname stuck. They had drinks—nonalcoholic—in their hands, and one of the sisters, the youngest, Savannah, was eating a sandwich. She waved as I walked in.

  I thought about gulping down my spiked coffee but let it stay where it was. I did not need to start looking for alcohol when things got shifty. Plus, my stomach couldn’t take it right now.

  Victor paced over to the table and poured three glasses of water. “Your father has always been a very strong magic user. That alone makes him a challenge to deal with. And he is ruthless in achieving his goals. Which means he does not care how much pain you endure.

  “He has dug into you very deeply, Allie. And won’t let go.” Victor handed me a glass of water, and I drank until it was gone.

  “To remove him—which can be done—will take more than just two of us, and I will want the doctor on hand. But what we were able to do, what you paid the price of pain for, is to disconnect his control of your mind and give you a hold over him.”

  “Which means?”

  “He is bound to do as you say.”

  “What?”

  “Think of it as you now have full Influence over him. He may not like what you tell him to do, but he will be unable to refuse you.”

  “Nice turnabout, eh?” Shame asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. Dad? I thought. Are you listening?

  Yes. He answered. Victor was right; he didn’t sound happy about it.

  Will you do anything I tell you to do?

  The slightest hesitation, then, They bound me, Allie. To you, he growled. They did to you what I have been trying very hard not to do. We may be permanently joined.

  Oh, forget not happy. “He’s furious,” I said.

  “Too bad,” Shame said. “He doesn’t like it, he knows the way out.”

  “Are you sure? He said we might be permanently joined.”

  “Horseshit,” Shame said cheerfully. “He can dispossess you and die. Pretty easy, really. Most people die the right way the first time. You’d think a genius like him wouldn’t screw it up so badly.”

  Dad kicked around in my head, but it didn’t hurt. It was like he was wrapped in a giant ball of cotton and couldn’t really touch me.

  I loved it. Totally worth the pain.

  “So what do we need to know from him?” I asked. I didn’t have a single thread of faith this would last. My dad was too good at getting out from under other people’s control. He always had a plan.

  “Tell him you want him to answer my questions truthfully, and let me talk to him.” Victor was pacing, drinking his water, and watching the map on the wall slowly wash with brighter and deeper colors along the lines of magic.

  The map had to be real time; you could see the spikes of magic use around the more densely populated areas, see it lighten out toward the suburbs before darkening again at the hearts of other towns, like Tigard, Forest Grove, Oregon City. Sparks of color—short-burst high magic use—sparkled across the map like stars.

  Beautiful really, until you remembered every bit of that beauty was costing someone pain.

  I didn’t love the idea of letting Dad talk through me again, but what the hell. Maybe this time it would be for a good reason.

  You will answer Victor truthfully. You will answer all of his questions. You will not control my body, but you can speak through me until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?

  Allie, there are other ways you and I could end this. Could make the world right again. You can break this binding between us.

  You will do as I said, and you will do it now. I felt like a parent demanding that a kid eat his vegetables.

  Weird thing? It worked. Dad took over my mouth.

  “Yes, Victor, what do you want to know?” My voice sounded angry, tired, and condescending all at once. Dad was chafing raw under these restrictions, but it didn’t feel like I was shoved out of the way of my own mind. He was just using my mouth. I could take over, talk over him, if I wanted to.

  Victor stopped pacing and squared of
f toward me. “Where is Jingo Jingo holding Sedra?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you have a way of finding out?”

  I could feel my dad squirm. Finally, “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “The cage that holds her was my technology. I can track it.”

  “Are you the only one who can track it?”

  Dad sighed. “Do we really have to do it this way?” he asked. “You and I both know there is so much more at stake than petty parlor tricks and binding spells that I can easily break.”

  “This spell will not be easily broken, Daniel. Not even by you.”

  I could tell my dad didn’t believe him. And I was pretty sure his contempt showed on my face.

  Victor spoke softly, evenly. “You were not the only one experimenting with magic all these long years,” he said. “I think you forget that. You were not the only one who learned ways to augment, to sharpen the tools of magic into weapons. You are not the only one who will go to long lengths to see that magic remains in the hands of those who can best guard it.”

  He took a step away, turned his back, staring at the screen. “In your day you were a great magic user. But you are dead. This world is no longer for you, Daniel. It’s an embarrassment you remain here.”

  “Life,” Dad said, “and death. Neither suits me better than the other. Both have their uses for men like us.”

  Victor turned back around. “That has always been your creed. Everything, everyone, categorized by how useful they are to you. Even your daughter. You loved her once. I know that. But you have been using her—”

  “You will never understand what I have done,” he cut in. “What I have had to do to keep her safe. To keep magic safe, controlled.”

  “Magic is not yours to control, Daniel. Neither is your daughter.”

  I wasn’t liking this turn in the conversation.

  “Can we,” I started, and was surprised at how easy it was to talk. Dad just got all cotton bally and distant when I spoke. “It’s me, again, Allie,” I said. “Can we get back to the important things?”

  Dad kicked, and even through the cotton ball, I could feel his anger.

  Yeah, well, he could suck it. I wasn’t going to let this conversation wander. I wanted to know what he knew about Sedra too. The fact that he liked to make people think he was right was nothing new.

  Victor nodded. “Tell me how to find Sedra.”

  I felt my mouth close, lips pressed tight in a very unlike-me, very like-Dad way.

  Tell him, I said.

  “There is a . . . device. With the right spell, it will immediately locate the cage. And where the cage is, Sedra is.”

  “And you know Jingo is keeping her in the cage?”

  “Have you found Jingo’s corpse?” Dad asked. “No? Then Sedra is still trapped.”

  Huh. He had a point there. Sedra was no slouch when it came to using magic. If she weren’t caged, I bet she’d take Jingo to his knees. She was the Head of the Authority, after all.

  “Where is the device?” Victor asked.

  “I don’t know. Exactly.”

  I nudged Dad again.

  “My condo. When I last saw it, it was in my home. I don’t know if it is still there.”

  “What do you know about Leander and the undead Veiled?” Victor asked.

  “I know the histories of Leander and Isabelle. I know they both died. I know the undead Veiled are using my technology to make themselves solid.” He sounded annoyed by that.

  “Do you know where Leander is?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what he wants?”

  Dad paused.

  The main door opened, and I turned. Dr. Fisher wore what I’d seen her in this morning. Sunny was wearing an indie band T-shirt, ripped jeans, and her hair was stuffed into a knit hat. Hayden, who towered over the girl and looked like he could wrestle bears for a living, was there too. He took in the room and headed straight for Maeve, who smiled and held her hand out to him, which he took, as he stood behind her. The twins, Carl and La, shut the door. Victor flicked a look their way, and they crossed the room and helped themselves to the drinks.

  “Leander wants what he has always wanted, Victor,” Dad said. “Men with passion do not become less of themselves once they die. They only become more of who they have always been. Death distills the soul.”

  “Therefore, I can assume Leander wants power. Revenge. And all the things he was denied in life.”

  “Isabelle?” Maeve asked. “He wanted Isabelle. But she’s dead. They were both dead. At peace. Together. Why come back?”

  “To live. They were cheated out of life together,” Dad said. “He wants life with her, not death with her. Immortality. If I were still a part of the Authority and had a vote in these matters, I would be advising us all to stop looking at this problem on a small scale. It is not whether or not we find Sedra in time to save her from death, it is not whether Dane and his men have gone rogue, nor that Jingo has broken trust by using magic against other members of the Authority that matters. What matters is deciding what our enemy really wants, what his end goal is, and stopping that before it is too late.”

  Victor folded his hands behind his back, his stance a little wider, as if to carry the weight of that comment.

  “You’re confusing the problem,” Maeve said. “Is Jingo Jingo working for you?”

  “No.”

  “Is he working for anyone other than himself?” she asked.

  Dad sighed. “You know Jingo. He has only ever worked for himself.”

  At her look, he added, “Mikhail. He is working for Mikhail. Always has been. All these years.”

  The silence in the room told me how much of a surprise that was to everyone. Shame swore softly and pushed up out of his chair to pace. He looked like he wanted to hit someone.

  “Do you know what he is doing for Mikhail?” Maeve asked.

  I felt my head shake. That was weird. “Whatever has made Jingo Jingo follow Mikhail, even though Mikhail is dead, is beyond me,” Dad said. “I have my suspicions. I think Mikhail promised Jingo something. I don’t know what, but Jingo Jingo is motivated by power and by his appetites.”

  Victor frowned. “Appetites?”

  “Come now, Victor, haven’t you known that Jingo Jingo finds his pleasure in children?”

  Victor closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Do you have proof of that?”

  “Only the closet full of bones Jingo has kept hidden.”

  Oh hells. I knew Dad was telling the truth. Jingo Jingo always struck me as creepy. And now the ghosts of children I’d always seen surrounding him when I used Sight suddenly made sense. He’d killed them and trapped their souls.

  Fucking bastard.

  The mood in the room had gone grim. No one said anything. I don’t think anyone knew what to say. What could you do when you discover the enemy within your midst is a child-murdering monster?

  I could tell no one knew Jingo Jingo had a closet full of bones. After the silence, the anger in the room was palpable, the betrayal almost physical. I knew the Authority had rules and trials and their own brand of justice. And I was sure that if they found those bones, Jingo Jingo was going to be a dead man. No trial needed.

  The oldest Georgia sister, Augusta, got up and walked out of the room. Carl followed her.

  Victor, as cold as steel, picked up the questioning again.

  “I fail to see how Mikhail can give Jingo further opportunity to harm children,” he said.

  “Mikhail gives Jingo the promise of power. When Mikhail rises again, Jingo Jingo’s sins will be pardoned. He will not be Closed, jailed, killed. Jingo is just working his bets to stay alive. Or so I assume.”

  “And do you have a theory on how Mikhail intends to rise?” Victor asked.

  “No.”

  “Did Dane kill you?”

  With that change of subject came a flash of anger that was not my own. “A man stood in front of me. Greyson. He cast
magic. A man stood behind me; I didn’t know who that was until this morning. Dane. He held a gun to my head. A gun.” He was quiet a moment. “I am unable to remember if it was the gun or magic that killed me.”

  It came out pretty calmly. Which emphasized his anger all the more.

  “Not a way any of us should leave this world,” Victor said.

  I felt my head nod. Dad and Victor really had been friends once. And though my dad would never acknowledge it, that token of compassion from Victor meant a lot to him.

  It was confusing sharing your mind with someone else.

  “I want you to help us find Sedra,” Victor said. What do you know? He hadn’t forgotten why we were there. “We will not abandon one of our own. You will show Allie where the location device is and how to use it.”

  Dad did not want to do that. At all. But he said, “My pleasure.”

  And then he pulled back into the cottony corner of my mind so quickly, I inhaled a sharp breath to fill up the space he had emptied.

  “It’s me,” I said. “Just me now.”

  Shame was done pacing and had poured another shot of whiskey, which he handed to me.

  “Thought you might want to wash the taste of him out of your mouth.”

  I took the whiskey. Got down half the shot. It burned and made my eyes water. I didn’t care.

  “So we get the locator,” Terric said, “and then follow it to wherever Jingo Jingo is? Remind me why we’ve spent weeks combing the city for him.”

  Hayden finally spoke. “We didn’t have the speaker of the dead over there giving us the inside information.”

  “If someone would have believed he was in my head, which I’ve been saying for months,” I said, “we could have done this sooner.”

  “What has happened,” Victor said, taking over the discussion, “is not what matters now. I do want to apologize for doubting you, Allie. You have not come to us in our brightest hour. Your father’s death, the increase in gates, the unrest, the disks, Greyson’s becoming a Necromorph—and now so much more. The storm. The betrayals. The kidnapping. Your possession.” He nodded.

  “Portland has always been more active due to the four wells, but these . . . crises are unprecedented. The best we can do is follow the rules and tenets of the Authority and pray that those rules will be enough to guide us.