Cast Into Darkness (14 page)

“Even if all it does is make casters, that’s plenty,” Grayson said. “We could create an army with this—”

“That thing’s a danger,” Victor said. “After what it did to Brian, we should destroy it. I don’t care how many casters we can make.” He stood in the entryway, arms crossed.

“Move aside, young man.” Grayson’s voice turned cold. Kate clutched his arm.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Victor stepped away, the fierce light in his eyes making his words seem more like a threat than a promise.

“As you wish.” Grayson’s glance at Victor as they left would have withered Kate to a little pile of ashes. Great. The last thing she needed was the two of them throwing words at each other as if they were kinetic-punch spells. What she wanted right now were some solid, comforting answers about Brian’s death. Answers that made more sense than Grayson’s.

But answers seemed to be in short supply. The sun still wasn’t up as they came outside into the cool morning air, but a hint of light showed in the east. The soft sound of waves breaking rose up from the beach. A robin sang up in the tall pine that loomed over the entrance. She wished she could shut it up. How could it sing such a happy song when Brian was dead?

A yawn seized her and didn’t let go for a long time.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” Grayson said as they walked up the path to the house. “I know it’s tough to stop thinking about Brian, but you need to rest.”

Maybe she did, but the waves of grief that washed over her weren’t the only thing keeping her awake. It would be hard to sleep while worries about the stone ran through her mind. Was she imagining the stone’s call to touch it?

“Grayson, it seemed like… I think…”

“What?”

He would think her a lunatic if she said anything, or worse yet, that the stone still messed with her mind.

Or maybe not. She remembered when she’d failed her magic test. Grayson had been the one who had picked her up out of the darkened circle stones and dried her tears. He’d told her that magic wasn’t everything, that she’d find something else to make her heart sing. She’d trusted him then. Maybe she could now.

“The stone talked to me. When you had its case open.” She held her breath, looking up at him.

He grabbed her arm. “You’re sure? What did it say?”

She hesitated. “It wants me to touch it again. One more time. I think…it isn’t finished with me.”

He gazed out across the ocean, and it seemed that complex calculations were going off rapid-fire behind his eyes. Then he looked down at her.

“Stay away from it. Don’t touch it. No matter what, don’t do anything at all with the stone until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“But what does it mean—”

He shook her, hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Do you understand? Kate? Tell me you won’t touch it.”

“Yes. Yes, I get it. Let go.”

He let go. “Do what I told you. Get some rest. And let me take care of this. The stone is my problem, not yours.”

Easy for him to say. It hadn’t changed him into a caster and killed his brother. And it wasn’t calling to
him.

As they strolled up the walkway to the house, an uneasiness settled into her stomach. She didn’t really want to leave the stone to Grayson, not when he wouldn’t give her a straight answer to her questions. Questions that deserved answers—puzzles that needed to be unraveled by her, not Grayson, not Victor.

The stone had killed Brian. She wasn’t finished with it, either.

Kristof snagged a
microbrew from a girl passing out an armful. His gaze lingered on the curve of her bikinied hips as she strolled away, blending into the crowd of prep school partiers. The noontime breeze coming in from the Atlantic felt cool through his T-shirt, but that’s not what made the balcony of this luxe Paumanok mansion such a great place to hang. Instead, the view of the Hamilton estate next door, barely visible over the tall privet hedges, prompted Kristof to crash this little pool party. A party he’d made sure would happen when he’d arranged for an “emergency” to spring up for the parents of the house, calling them away and leaving the kids all alone for the weekend.

People were so predictable.

He played with the silver ring on his finger. It might be cool to enjoy his beer, flirt with the girls, and chill in the pool for a few hours. No one would know he played hooky. But he was a caster, and he had a mission. Get the stone. Use it to overthrow his father. The locator spell he’d placed on it pulsed active at the edge of his magical senses—the stone was still inside the Hamilton estate. The problem would be getting it out. Especially since that mess last night with the security grid had heightened the Hamiltons’ alert status. Their people lurked everywhere, this close to the Hamilton’s house. He had to be careful.

Reconnaissance was key to a successful operation. He’d modified the illusion spell in his ring to tweak his appearance. No one would recognize the trust fund slacker with artfully ripped shorts and a bottle of high-end vodka to contribute as either college student Kris or Makris operative Kristof.

He wandered to a quiet end of the balcony, leaving the chattering girls and preening jocks behind. Muttering a quick spell to enhance his vision, he peered through the tops of the hedges. From his high vantage point he could see into the estate but not through the facade of the ornate brick-and-stone house—their security grid proved too good for that. Still, there were more cars parked around the entrance than he would have expected. And one of them was a black hearse that read
Southampton Mortuary
on its side.

Hmm… No reports of a caster death on the network. But Kate hadn’t returned his calls or messages. He took a long swallow of beer to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.
No.
It must be a servant or an Affiliate. It couldn’t be Kate.

Kristof took the burner phone he used as Kris from his pocket and twirled it around in his hand. He checked his messages. None from Kate. Nothing since her voice mail yesterday afternoon.

He slid his phone back and turned his attention to the estate. A swift blink didn’t change his vision. He still couldn’t see into the house. Too bad. He’d love to get a peek inside. And not only to help him pinpoint the location of the stone. He knew all too well the tales his own family’s house—a vast estate carved from the rocks on a lonely island off the coast of Athens—would give up if anyone could penetrate its layers of security spells. He imagined his family life was far different from Kate’s.

Kristof doubted she had to pay for her failures in quite the same way that he did.

He rubbed his eyes. Any more probing might alert the Hamiltons’ security. He should be more careful. Anyone around here could be a Hamilton operative. He eyed the pretty girl with the beer as she smiled at a tanned boy in a too-tight Speedo down by the pool.

Even her.

The phone rang. Kate’s number flashed on the display.

She’s all right.

He moved to answer, then stopped. No one was nearby. He twisted his silver ring and changed his voice to match his Kris identity. He let the phone ring a little longer.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Kris…” He heard her sob.

“What’s wrong?” He lounged against the railing.

“Brian…Brian’s dead.”

The news hit him like a kinetic spell to the gut. Bile rose up, along with a twist of something shaky and raw. Fear? No. What happened to Brian wouldn’t happen to him, to Kate.

Focus on the mission.

Brian’s death explained the hearse. And Brian’s death would make Kristof’s job a little bit easier. He shoved the rawness down until he couldn’t feel it anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, letting compassion creep into his voice. “What happened?”

“It was my fault…. My dad says it wasn’t, but I think…I think I could have done something, could have stopped it.”

“Slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Kate said nothing for a moment. Then, “There was an accident, here, when he came home…. I can’t talk about it.”

She didn’t explain any more than that. He heard her crying, muffled, as if she held the phone away from her face.

Huh. No announcement of Brian’s death. He hadn’t died on a mission. The stone? Maybe Melina had been right about its power—and potential danger.

“I don’t know what to do. Things have changed, because of this. Everything’s changed.” She stifled a sob.

“How?”

“I can’t come back for summer session. I have to stay here. I…don’t know if I can see you again.”

“What do you mean?” Was she breaking up with him? He leaned forward, his hand gripping the phone. That wasn’t going to happen. He needed her. He needed her to get the stone.

“I can’t leave here right now. It’s important I stay for the family. Because of Brian. At least until September.”

“I understand. But we should see each other. I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

He muttered some inane sympathies to her, knowing from her responses that he hit the right notes. The whole grieving girlfriend, comforting boyfriend thing. He shifted from one foot to the other. With every false condolence he uttered, his stomach felt tighter.

Kate went over the funeral plans. Day after tomorrow, in Southampton. She wasn’t crying anymore, but pain trembled through everything she said.

“Try to take it easy, okay?” he said. “It’s going to be rough for a while, dealing with this stuff.” He thought back to when his mother had been committed, to saying good-bye to her in one of her brief moments of sanity. “It hurts, losing someone you love.” His throat thick with grief, he struggled with every word. “It feels like your whole world’s changed, and nothing will ever be right again. But it’ll get better. It will. Believe me.”

Why had he said that? He’d never told anyone how he felt about his mother. But he couldn’t listen to Kate’s sobs, the ache in her voice when she talked about not having the right black dress for the funeral, about having to face all those people she didn’t know. Not without trying to ease her pain.

Kate sniffled. “I guess you’re right. I just need time.” She paused. “You know, there are things I still don’t understand…about why Brian died. I think I need to find out why he did, um, some things. Maybe his death will make more sense to me then.”

Death only makes one kind of sense. The more she sees of it, the more she’ll understand that. Death is something that happens when you aren’t quick enough, or smart enough, to win.

Yes. And to succeed, he had to concentrate on the mission, dammit. Get Kate to take the conch-shell talisman. Shouldn’t be hard. He knew how to work an asset.

Kristof raised a barrier as hard and impenetrable as his shield spell around the crack in his heart’s armor. He made a plan. Then he began to talk.

The sleeveless yoga
top worked well enough over Kate’s Hamilton-blue shorts. She gave it a firm tug. Her uncle said to dress for a workout.

Only last night she’d lost her brother and found out she could cast. Now, after a few hours of sleep, a bowl of cereal, and a call to Kris, she was supposed to start her training.

Apparently, time off to adjust wasn’t a concept Grayson understood.

A knock sounded at the door. She opened it.

Her dad leaned against the wall, in tan shorts, his skin way too pale against his navy polo, his eyes not quite as bright as they should be.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Sure.” Her legs felt unsteady as she stepped back to let him enter.

“About what happened…” Reaching down, his fingers touched her cheek gently.

Tears fell unheeded from her eyes. A sob shook her. “Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. It wasn’t your fault. None of this was. Not Brian, not what you did to me.”

She touched his hand, then grabbed it hard, as if using him as her anchor. The tears kept falling. “I should have told you about the stone. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Well, that’s true.”

His bluntness made her smile. Nothing could stop him from being him.

“I know you were trying to do what your brother wanted.” He picked up a tissue from her bedside table and blotted her tears.

She hesitated. “I…don’t want to argue anymore, but I do want to know what Brian was doing with the stone.”

He studied her face for a moment. Then he walked to the window and leaned up against it, his pose casual, as if his only concern was the view. The flinch in his eyes told Kate something different.

“Kate, you have to believe me. I don’t know. But I intend to find out. That, and who was chasing him. And when I do, I’ll tell you.”

Would he? Maybe. Or maybe he’d give her some sanitized version he thought fit for her to hear.

“Dad, I’m a caster now. There’s no reason to keep me out of things anymore. I want to be involved in finding out the truth about Brian. And the stone.”

His eyes narrowed. “No. You’re just a beginner. You don’t have the training, or the abilities, to get involved in an investigation this complicated. Your job right now is to learn how to control your powers.”

“When will you stop trying to put everyone around you into tiny boxes?” She sank into her chair. “I’m your daughter, not a puppet you control.”

“You’re also a caster. You need discipline and training. You have no idea what you’d be getting tangled up in. Investigating the stone is far beyond your abilities and knowledge. You’ll be too busy learning which end is up to help.”

“Fine. You’ve told me the reasons why I can’t. Now let me tell you why I can.” She held a finger out. “One: apparently, I knew more about what Brian was doing than the rest of you.” She held another finger out. “Two: The stone made me a caster. It…possessed me. I may be able to understand it better than someone who’s never used it. And—”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t use it. The stone used you.” Her father’s voice was gentle.

She stiffened. “Maybe so. I still think I understand it better than other people.” She didn’t tell him about the way it called to her, about the way it cajoled her to touch it one more time. Dad had enough to deal with.