Public Enemies (18 page)

Sometimes it sucked being human. “Sorry, I don't get it.”

Her expression went grave, her eyes deep and somber. “Remember I mentioned your passenger?”

Cameron.

I nodded. “What about him?”

“There's a way you can use him, if he's willing. I sense no malice from the spirit and I believe he wants to serve you.”

“What the hell?” Kian gritted out.

Rochelle explained better than I could about the ghost hanging around me. I couldn't remember if I'd told him about what happened in the locker room and feelings I'd had before. So much shit had happened, it wasn't like I meant to leave him out. To my surprise, he didn't lose it over my ghost infestation and seemed all right with whatever Rochelle had in mind.

But he's been in this world longer. Weird is relative.

“If it'll keep her safe, do it,” he said, once she finished.

Rochelle glanced my way, but I had some questions first. “Are there any dangers?”

“Yes.” Her answer came way faster than I could feel comfortable with but it was probably good she wasn't lying. “The biggest risk is you getting addicted to the power and becoming disinclined to set your spirit familiar free when the time comes.”

“Seriously?”

“Where do you think stories of wizards like Merlin and Rasputin came from? They were human, once. But if you traffic too long with the dead, you
will
be forever changed.”

“So I might not even be a person anymore? It could … turn me?” I wanted so much for Rochelle to reassure me, but that wasn't her style apparently.

She paused, weighing the pewter compact in the palm of her hand. Then she whispered, “I mentioned that all your paths are dark ones, did I not? Though I'm no oracle, I believe this offers your best chance at survival.”

“What do you think, Cameron?” It seemed unlikely he could answer but I hated the idea of imprisoning him without checking in.

Kian jerked his head toward me, eyes widening.
Oops. Forgot to mention that, huh?
But Rochelle glanced around as if she sensed a change in atmosphere, then I felt it too. The nape of my neck prickled with goose bumps and the air got perceptibly colder. Kian stepped closer in reflex and put an arm around me, not that the threat was anything he could see.

“You're always with her,” Rochelle said softly. “I thought so. Knock once if we should proceed, twice to decline.” One clear rap sounded on the wall immediately to my left. She turned to me with a satisfied expression. “Your familiar has volunteered. That will make the binding easier.”

That word had all kinds of icky connotations but I didn't argue when she started setting up. First she cleared off a long table, then she unearthed long metal trenchers, which she arranged in a rectangle with the pewter compact between them and me on the other side. Candles came next and an assortment of herbs, sprinkled into the trays. Finally she went into the back and returned with a pitcher of water.

Probably seeing my confusion, she explained, “It's the perfect conductor. I'll submerge the talisman and you'll dip your hands when the time comes, forging the link.”

“Okay.” God, this shit was strange, especially for someone who preferred science to magic. No matter how I tried, I couldn't figure out a formula for any of this.

“Go around the table, wait for my signal.”

I did as instructed; Kian stood nearby to my left, though what he planned to do if this went heinously awry, I had no idea. Still, it was pretty cool he was right here, taking the risk along with me. The chill in the air intensified as proof that Cameron was still hovering.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked her.

Probably I should've questioned sooner. This would likely piss off the Harbinger, definitely Dwyer & Fell, and I had the impression that Rochelle got along by staying neutral. At this juncture, her aid could almost be interpreted as allegiance to Wedderburn's faction. It wasn't that I hoped she'd realize this was a bad move and back out but I had to be sure I wasn't signing some kind of implicit contract, like,
by accepting my assistance now, when I knock on your door in three months, you have to help me bury this body, no questions asked
.

And how bizarre that this was how my mind worked now.

“You remind me of someone.” Her expression went sweet and soft, eyes glazed by time and distance.

Even I couldn't bear to pry further. “Then … thank you.”

“This is all I can do,” she warned. “I won't answer if you knock. And I certainly won't fly to intervene as the Harbinger has done, on more than one occasion.”

“He's obligated,” I mumbled.

She raised her eyes, an amused light in them, and a cruel smile twisted her mouth. For the first time I saw the opposite side of the coin. Healing wasn't only kindness; there was also pain. “Is that what you think? He's enthralled, Edie Kramer, and that's dangerous. You see, the Harbinger is like a cat. Do you know anything about feline behavior?”

“They pretend to be tender and affectionate,” Kian said. “They purr. They show softness. And when you least expect it, they bite.”

Rochelle nodded. “They also kill their favorite toys. Repeatedly.”

Fear was too weak a word for the knot in my stomach. I didn't want the Harbinger to find me fascinating. Maybe I should've displayed more awe, less speaking my mind. It had probably been a long time since anyone failed to kowtow in his presence. That was the only reason that I could imagine; otherwise his interest made no sense.

“Can we get this done? I'm feeling vulnerable.”

“Remember this moment.” Her eyes met mine.

“I will.”

“And recall that you cannot keep the power that you're borrowing. To permanently confine a spirit for your own use, that is true evil.”

Her somber mien hammered home how dangerous this must be, how much potential it had to turn me dark. I imagined myself as a witch covered in talismans and shuddered.
No, this is temporary. I'll set Cameron free as soon as I can.
Helping me would probably let him move on too, as I suspected he was stuck because he needed expiation for the dog-girl video.

“I'll treat him as a companion, not a slave,” I promised.

“Then let's begin. Kian, I need you to take five steps back. Yes, by the wall is fine.”

Rochelle opened the compact and set it in the tray, then she lit the candles at cardinal points. I had zero experience in rituals but I could tell this one was legit from energy sizzling against my skin. Every creepy thing in this room perked up, looking our way. She poured water from the waiting pitcher into the trays and then she signaled me.

“Hands in, up to your wrists. Don't pull back, no matter what happens. I'll let you know when it's done.”

That's not ominous at all.

Nervous, I did as instructed, and the water already felt different, icy cold though it had been sitting at room temperature. The cold worked into my bones, so I felt my hands stiffening, knuckles sharp and achy with it. She whispered a word in a language I didn't speak, then another, until they blurred together in a soft susurration, whispery rasp of paper over stone, and the water on my hands became a river. Crazy, but I felt the current flooding along the trenchers, sweeping from my end to hers and back again. The candle flames flickered from nonexistent wind while the room just kept getting colder. Soon I could see Rochelle's breath when she chanted. Though the sun hadn't changed position, it was darker in here too, a cluster of shadows that belonged to something besides Cameron. It took all my self-control not to scream and run off, but I held on. The ceremony came to crescendo with the darkness in the water swimming like ethereal fish toward the compact. As the black cloud reached it, the thing snapped shut with an audible click.

Her face sweaty, Rochelle staggered backward. “It's done. Come meet your familiar.”

“Did that hurt you?” She did
not
look good.

It took a few seconds before she could reply. “A little. After this, I'll go to the shelter and heal the homeless. Their appreciation will top up the tank enough to get me by.”

“Thank you.”

“Like I said, this is the last help I'll offer. Who knows if it'll be enough.”

“It will be,” Kian said firmly. “I'll make sure of it.”

I picked a careful path through the forgotten treasures to the other side of the table, where the compact waited. The water was clear now, normal looking. “Is it safe for me to pick up?”

She offered a strange, half smile. “You're the only one who can.”

Kian didn't like the sound of that, no surprise, so he reached for it, but the water blocked him as if it were glass, not liquid. He tapped along the surface with a deepening frown. “How is that possible?”

“The object's bound to her,” she answered.

Curious, I tried and my fingers slipped right in. I picked up the compact with no problem. It felt heavier in my palm than I expected; that could be imagination since I knew intellectually that it now contained Cameron's soul. Rochelle nodded at me when I went to open it. Since this was all so new, I had no expectations. Sheer surprise rocked me back a step when I saw that the empty space across from the mirror contained an image, bizarre and three-dimensional, like one of those “magic” 3-D photos or puzzles. I stared at Cameron; he seemed to stare back. He didn't move or blink yet he gave the impression of awareness.

So. Flipping. Creepy.

“Can he see me?” I asked.

Rochelle nodded. “And hear you. I'll show you a few simple uses for him before I go. The rest you'll need to work out on your own. Each spirit has a different specialty and since yours is young, he may not know yet what he can do.”

At that point, I got a lesson on how to tap my familiar's power and, right away, I understood her initial warning. The rush of energy was … euphoric, indescribably delicious. My whole body glowed with pleasure; it felt like basking in the sun, making out with Kian, and acing a test.
All
at the same time. In a few seconds, I was stronger. Faster. Those results could definitely eat away at the desire to work hard. Steeling myself against temptation, I followed Rochelle out of the shop.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“As long as you can see his picture in the compact, it means he's got some power to offer. If it fades until you can barely make it out, then you need to let him rest.”

“Okay. I'll remember.”

“Take care, Edie. You too, Kian.”

He waited until she locked the door and moved off down the sidewalk before he reached for me. Reaction was setting in, and it was kind of uncanny that he understood that about me. I could be cool while the crazy stuff was happening, but afterward, I needed a safe space to lose my mind for a few seconds. He rubbed my back as I clutched my talisman, hovering on the brink of tears. Everything was just too damn much but I couldn't curl up into a ball.

My dad's depending on me. I have to step up.

“Does this mean I'm a witch?” I mumbled.

“Does it matter? You didn't trap that asshole. He was already hanging around, Rochelle just taught you how to make him useful.”

He was trying to make me feel better, but he had no idea how amazing it felt to power up on somebody else's dime. I didn't want to turn into a maniac, looking for other artifacts to infuse. It wasn't like I could do the ritual myself, so that was some comfort, but my reaction to the spirit boost had been strong enough to make me nervous. Depending on how much I had to rely on Cameron to get through this and save my dad, there was no predicting what it might do to me. Rochelle was trusting me with a bomb, basically, and I hoped I didn't detonate it.

I let Kian comfort me for a few more minutes, then I stepped back and opened the compact. Cameron stared back at me, unmoving and pale as death. “Help me get my dad back, then I'll cut you loose. Deal?”

A bang on the door behind me—I jumped, heart thumping like mad. Then I realized Rochelle had set the terms.
One knock for yes, two for no.
It wasn't an elegant means of communication but maybe we could do better down the line. Working out complex systems was kind of my forte, so the chances were good that I could create some kind of ghost-chat infrastructure, given time.

Damn. I don't have much of that. We'll make do.

“Next question,” I asked. “Does it hurt, being trapped?”

There was a long silence, then eventually he knocked once, softer. That sounded more like “kind of” or “maybe.” I wished I hadn't asked because now I felt bad about using him. But I didn't have a choice if I wanted to rescue my dad.
Sorry, Cameron.

To save my father, I'd do a lot worse.

 

BLAMING CTHULHU NEVER HELPS

Sunday, Kian bought me a new cell phone. The police came to see me too, which was completely horrible. I suspected the officer knew I wasn't telling the whole truth, which extended the interrogation. But was I supposed to admit that a Cthulhu monster carried my dad off? That would get me shunted off to a psych unit.

Monday afternoon a big guy was waiting for me when I left Blackbriar. Between the lessons I was taking with Raoul and my spirit mirror, I might be able to take him. I sized him up as he approached. Kian was off with Aaron, talking to some people about who might've abducted my dad. Hopefully he'd text me with information soon.

My whole body tensed as the man in the black suit and impenetrable mirror shades stepped up. “We have a mutual friend.”

“Who do you work for?” This didn't seem like the Harbinger's style but then, he was known as a crazy, unpredictable bastard, and from what I could tell, he reveled in that reputation. He
had
sent men in suits to round me up before, but this guy wasn't one of them.
How many minions does he have?