The Magic's in the Music (Magic Series Book 5) (36 page)

“Okay, then,” Kemble said, obviously trying to sound positive. “Let’s get going. Michael is planning. Drew is looking for visions of where they are. I’m working on security.”

“The blood drawing station is in Brian’s office next door,” Jane said. “Greta’s A positive, so we’ll have to lean heavily on our O positives for donations. That’s Tris, Kemble, me, Kee, Drew and Tammy.”

“What about me?” Devin asked.

“No go,” Jane said apologetically. “You and Maggie are type B.”

“I’m t-type O.”

Senior appeared behind Tammy in the doorway.

Jane smiled. “So you are. Would you like to go first?”

It was good to see Senior look a little…proud. Too bad it was about being able to donate blood because they were expecting injuries to family members. Tris knew very well that Jane was taking way more O positive blood than they’d need, because that was the universal donor type. You could give O positive to any one of them.

Tris looked around, feeling useless, as the family dispersed.

“And Tris,” Michael said, not looking up from his plans. “Go see what Edwards has in the arsenal.”

Thank the Lord and hallelujah. Something to do. Something with guns. “On it.” He strode into the hallway.

*

Greta hadn’t managed
anything more than her soft glowing light in the past two hours. And Lord knew that Lan’s shit-ass power to write music wasn’t getting them out of here. Despair was starting to ramp up inside his belly, a tympani beat inexorably in his head, saying they were running out of time. Greta was just getting frustrated.

“Ugh!” she said. “What good is all this?”

“We just haven’t figured the right angle yet,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he believed it. As far as he could tell, his siblings’ powers, and those of their mates, had all come out with a bang—no practice or ramp up needed, though later they needed to practice for refinement and control.

The refrigerator door handle thunked and Jason pushed into the room, Hardwick right behind him. Oh, this was bad. Whatever Lan did, he had to keep them focused on him, not Greta. What he had dreaded since the moment these two had left was about to unfold in living color. And he still hadn’t decided what to do.

“You little conniving bastard,” Jason said, fury under scant control in his voice. The fact that he didn’t yell was scary. “You really sold that sucker. I actually believed you. Did you think we wouldn’t check?”

No use pretending. “I thought it’d take you longer,” Lan said, trying to keep his voice steady. That would be annoying to them.

“There isn’t even a place where a medallion should be in the labyrinth at that church, so don’t try telling me it got stolen or something.”

Hardwick stared at Lan, who felt the now only-too-familiar pain lance through his body. At least they were focused on punishing him and not worrying about Greta. The music in his head drained away. It felt like his brain was frying, his guts being ripped out. Every vein and joint screamed, and so did Lan. He could hear Greta screaming right along with him. The attack was even worse than the last ones. When the pain finally washed out of his body, he collapsed, hanging limply in his chains. He couldn’t get his breath. When he could suck in some air, his body was wracked with fits of coughing.

Jason had him by the hair. “Listen to me, you piece of shit. You’re going to tell me right now where that Pentacle is. Morgan’s on her way, and I want it here when she arrives.”

Yeah, let them try to get the Pentacle here. Lan felt his coughing turn into laughter, in counterpoint to the desperation in his gut.

“You think this is funny?”

Lan’s vision had cleared enough to see Jason’s eyes begin to bulge and a vein in his neck throb. Lan shook his head.
Keep them focused on me
. Because he couldn’t betray his family, maybe the world. He couldn’t be the weak link who sold out. But he couldn’t let Greta suffer, either. There wasn’t a shred of music in his head. “Go ahead, feel free to make me pay.”

“This one is dumber than a bag of hammers, Hardwick.” All Jason’s emotion drained away. Only the blank blue of his light eyes was left. He was one scary-ass mother-fucker. “You think you’re not going to tell me what I want to know. Stupid ass.”

Lan’s stomach dropped. He wished he or Greta had super strength, or the power to fly, or disappear—some way to prevent what was going to happen here. He kept himself from looking over at Greta, but he could hear her broken sobbing. What the fuck was he going to do?

“I’m not going to let Hardwick play with you anymore,” Jason said in a dead voice. “He’s going to play with Greta here.”

And there it was: a primal dilemma. Let her suffer. Or betray pretty much everybody. “She doesn’t know anything.” Lan tried not to let the panic in.

Jason gave him a disgusted look. “I’m sure she doesn’t. Hardwick?”

The spectral man turned his gaze on Greta. She shrieked.

Lan banged on his chains. His heart ached. His gut ached. “Leave her alone,” he shouted. Greta’s body arched and her shriek spiraled up, echoing off the metal walls. He knew what she was going through. “Don’t do this.” Like that was going to happen.

“Hardwick?” Jason turned on his taciturn companion. “Hardwick,” he yelled.

Hardwick backed down. Greta slumped in her chains. She looked like she might have lost consciousness. Lan realized tears were streaming down his cheeks because he could taste salt in the corners of his mouth. He could feel blood trickling down his arms from where he’d cut his wrists on the manacles.

“Get a grip,” Jason said to Hardwick. He turned to Lan. “So, what do you think? Going to tell me?”

Lan sucked in short breaths. “Can’t.”

“Okay then. We revive her and start over.” He walked over toward Greta.

Damn, shit, piss, fuck.
He couldn’t let Greta suffer. They’d find a way out of the Pentacle thing later. But right now, Greta’s need was immediate. “Wait.”

Jason turned, his head lolling to the side, and raised his brows to prompt Lan. But then he held up his hand. “By the way. If you send us on another wild goose chase, I’ll come back and have Hardwick put her in so much pain that she goes crazy from it. Understand?”

Lan nodded, swallowing. “Is she…okay? I want to know she’s okay before I tell you.”

“Jesus H. Christ. Do you not get this? You have no negotiating power here. You have no powers at all, or you would have used them before now. So let’s just get this over with.”

“It’s not a physical object,” Lan said, his voice dull in his ears. He was betraying everybody who loved him. And they did love him. He’d never doubted that.

“What?”

“The Pentacle. It’s not a physical object.”

“Don’t give me this crap. Hardwick, revive her.”

“No,” Lan gulped. “Let me finish. There’s a comet. They call it Galahad because the first recorded sighting was in the time of Camelot. And it’s going to cross the sky and form a pentangle with the bowl of the Big Dipper.” Jason looked unsure. Lan rushed on. “Greta showed me at the Observatory. She traced where its trajectory would take it.”

“You’re shitting me,” Jason said slowly.

Lan started to panic again. What if he betrayed everyone and everything, and they didn’t believe him and still tortured Greta? “It’s a moment in time, don’t you see? The Pentacle is created for a moment in time every five-hundred and four years.”

Hardwick looked at Jason. Some realization was dawning in his eyes. “The ceremony…” he whispered.

Jason nodded. Then he turned on his heel. “We have some details to fill in.”

And they left. The door thunked closed. Lan heard the heavy handle latch.

What had he done?

‡

Tris held Maggie’s
hand as he gazed out the Escalade window at the choppy canyons dotted with creosote and Manzanita. The earth was chalky beige, with gray slate layers of rock poking through. Jeez but the desert between L.A. and Las Vegas was a butt-ugly stretch of no man’s land. It felt like they were driving into hell. Just not fast enough. He tried not to think about what the Clan might be doing to his brother and Greta. Maybe it was too late and they were already dead. Maybe this whole thing had been staged to lure the family into a firefight of powers that they couldn’t win. It was really possible that here was where the Tremaine family ended.

Maggie let go his hand, slipped her arm under his and squeezed his biceps. She could feel his agitation, he guessed. He breathed in and out a couple times. He had to get his shit together, for her if not for himself.

He looked down at her. “I don’t like leaving the kids like this. You know what could happen here.” He kept his voice low. Michael was driving, and he and Kemble were going over contingencies. Drew, Dev and Jane rode in the SUV behind. They’d need two vehicles to bring Greta and Lan home. Kee sat next to Maggie, staring out the opposite window.

It had been hell to leave the Parents home. The look in Senior’s eyes when he realized they’d be better off without him was not something Tris would forget for a while. And his mother, worrying but unable to help, was agitated to the point almost of hysteria. But the truth was the truth. They couldn’t help. And wasn’t that just a bitch?

“I know,” Maggie whispered. “But we don’t have any choice. Family is family. Lanyon is family. Greta now, too.”

Tris made a sound of disgust. “Lan will probably leave her the minute we get them out.”

“I would be so glad to have to deal with that,” Maggie muttered.

She was right. One problem at a time.

“Are we there, yet?” Kee asked, sighing.

“Very funny,” Kemble said, over his shoulder. “At least we’re more than halfway.”

Behind him, in the cargo area, Tris heard a rustle. They’d covered the guns and emergency kit back there with a tarp. No need for luggage. But guns didn’t usually rustle.

“Nobody freak out.”

What the fuck?
Tris lurched around.
Tammy?

Tammy pushed out from under the tarp. The vehicle erupted in protests. Good thing Michael was driving. The car didn’t swerve or slow as he checked the rear view mirror. The guy had nerves of steel.

“What the hell are you doing here, Tammy?” Kemble yelled from the front.

Tammy raised her chin in a way the happy child Tris had once known would never do. “I know I’m not going to be any help. But I promise not to get in the way.”

“We can’t protect you,” Kemble gritted out.

“Well, you can’t spare the time to take me back.” Tammy pushed into a sitting position.

Everybody in the car got that loud and clear.

“We can’t leave her somewhere, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Michael said to Kemble, his voice steely. “That’s like leaving a puppy by the side of a busy highway.”

“Goddamnit, Tammy.” Kemble was really pissed, probably because she had them where she wanted them and he knew it. “Why? Hungry for adventure? There are better ways.”

Tris saw a flicker of uncertainty cross Tammy’s determined expression. “I just have to be there, that’s all.”

“Great,” Kee said, rolling her eyes. “Now one of us has to keep an eye on you as well as on the Clan. You’ll probably get someone killed.”

“Shush, Kee,” Maggie said, elbowing her seatmate.

“Maybe we can leave her in the car,” Kemble muttered.

But Tris could tell he’d accepted that Tammy was in. What else was there to do? The feeling of doom just ramped up to eleven.

*