Bloodspell (37 page)

"Illustro," she said, walking downstairs as all the lights turned on with her low command. She froze in horror at the state of the kitchen.

It was like a whirlwind had crashed through it. There was broken china strewn everywhere. The table was flipped onto its top and several chairs lay in a haphazard heap to one side of the room. Newspapers and magazines that had been in a neat pile on the kitchen counter littered the floor.

Victoria felt panic build in her body, and she opened her mind to search for Holly, at first in the house, then in the immediate surroundings, then in the town. She was nowhere to be found. Victoria pulled out her cell-phone and dialed Holly's number, and heard the answering ring coming from the kitchen drawer. Holly never left her phone at home!

Fretfully, she chewed her lips until she felt a sharp sting and the salty taste of blood filled her mouth. Where was Leto? If something had happened, he would have contacted her. The strange sense of foreboding grew and she repeated the same mental search for Leto. This time she sensed something faint in the back garden. She raced out there without thinking.

Leto!

He lay at the edge of the icy stream, his mangled body frozen and near death. She skidded to a stop across the remnants of snow and cradled his ice-covered body gently, noticing the funny tilt of his neck as if he had been strangled. She sensed that he was still alive. Barely. Blood flecked his silver coat. Victoria took him inside and wrapped him in a warm blanket. She said an incantation over his body and tried to infuse him with some of her own energy but he remained unresponsive.

Victoria's panic escalated. In mounting alarm, she decided that she would call Holly's friends to see if Holly had gone on a vacation that they would know about. It was then that Victoria saw the flashing light on the answering machine. The sense of foreboding grew as she pressed the button, skipping older messages. Her heart sank as she found the one she had somehow known was there.

Charla's recorded voice was tinny and cheerful, and the message was clear.

"I have that homework assignment you need. The quiz won't be too painful if you study carefully. Call me and I'll give you the details. Also don't try to ditch class because it'll count against your final. They say it's going to be brutal."

Victoria's blood pressed against her skin in scalding hot fury. Despite Charla's cryptic message, Victoria knew explicitly what she meant. How could she not? There was no reason for Charla to call Holly's house about homework assignments because they weren't in any of the same classes. Victoria replayed the message, her hands clenching and unclenching futilely, "It's
going to be brutal ...
" She checked the date of the message. It was two days ago.

With shaking hands, praying she wasn't too late, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Charla's number. She answered on the first ring.

"Hi Tori, I was wondering when you were going to call. I was getting a little worried about holding this homework for so long," said Charla, laughing hysterically as if she'd made the funniest joke.

"Where is my aunt? If you've hurt her—"

"You'll what?" Charla's voice was businesslike now, all trace of humor gone. "Put a hex on me?" She laughed. Victoria sank to the floor ... Angie. Charla heard the dead silence on the end of the phone and laughed again. "Oh yeah, Angie spilled the beans about your little secret. So you try anything and your homework gets dusted, okay?"

Victoria's blood surged like a tidal wave inside of her. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Oh Tori, don't be so dramatic. We're in Manhattan and the party's just beginning so get here already, okay?"

"Where?"

"Grand Central Station, lower level. We'll find you."

The phone clicked off and Victoria hurled the answering machine off the table. Charla had tortured Leto in cold blood and to her he was just a cat. She didn't even know if Holly was okay. Victoria wanted to call Christian so badly that her body ached with it, but she steeled herself. Getting Christian involved was the last thing she needed to do. Holly was her priority.

She focused inward and tried to find Charla. Nothing. Angie. Nothing. It was like they weren't on the planet as if they'd vanished completely. The anger in the pit of Victoria's stomach turned into fear, and she jumped to her feet. She had no time to lose.

Without thinking, she held Leto and teleported to her apartment, the effort knocking the breath out of her. She realized that she hadn't quite recovered from the last time. After a few minutes, she threw on a pair of jeans and a warm turtleneck, and grabbed the keys to her Mini. She would have tried to teleport but there was no safe arrival site that she could focus on clearly, and too many variables could make it disastrous.

"I'll be back, Leto. I love you. Everything will be okay, I promise you," she whispered before leaving.

As she drove, she thought about Charla and the whole unbelievable situation. Victoria couldn't figure out the reason behind it. Was it some roundabout way of Charla hurting Holly to get to her? Because of Gabriel? It was the only thing she could think of that would possibly make Charla do something so unspeakable. Still, no one would be that vengeful over a boy, would they? Charla's words ran through her mind, "I can get a little Ted Bundy crazy where Gabe's concerned," and Victoria felt herself go cold. She stepped on the gas.

She made the trip to New York in six hours, the clock on the dashboard saying two p.m. just as she was pulling off the Henry Hudson Parkway onto 125
^th
Street. The streets were packed, typical for a Tuesday afternoon with yellow cabs threading violently in and out of the traffic. Buses droned by, trailing black clouds of noxious gases, and busy pedestrians peppered the sidewalk.

As another driver almost side-wiped her, Victoria pulled the car to the curb, and centered her emotions. All she needed now was an accident. It was proving more difficult to navigate New York City than she thought, so she decided to ditch her car in a long-term parking lot on 125
^th
and Park Avenue. She took the subway downtown.

When the train pulled into the 42
^nd
Street Station stop, she walked slowly into Grand Central Terminal from the subway and waited on the lower level near the circular train information center, her heart pounding so loudly it felt like it was going to jump straight out of her chest.

She saw Charla at the same moment that Charla saw her, and wondered how she had known that Victoria had arrived. No doubt that sneak Angie was slithering around somewhere, doing Charla's dirty work, and had been watching for when she arrived. Charla was dressed in dark jeans and a white sweater, and walked with arrogant purpose.

Her pretty face was marred with spite as she walked up to Victoria. "Don't think about trying anything unless you want that old woman to die," she said. "I know your tricks and there are people watching to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Victoria's face tightened. She wanted to rip the skin off Charla's smug face. She dug her nails into her palms to suppress her rage. There would be time enough when Holly was safe. She could feel the blood racing and knew that she would give it freedom soon, no matter the cost, she thought rashly. It churned in response.

"Come on, don't just stand there," Charla said, as she walked into the entrance to Track 114. Victoria frowned and followed her. Were they going to get on a train and leave Grand Central? Charla walked quickly down the platform ignoring the Metro North train that was waiting on the side of the platform and Victoria trailed behind, trying to work out where they could possibly be going. They descended the stairs toward the end of the platform and walked toward a long escalator.

"Why are you doing this, Charla?" she asked, trying to memorize the way. "What did Holly ever do to you?"

"You think this is about Holly?" Charla laughed, the sound chilling.

"Why are you hurting her if it's about me?"

"You just answered your own question, don't you think?" Charla said. "Come along, we don't have all day. The old lady looks a little peaked," she added maliciously. Victoria gritted her teeth and prayed for self-control. She had pegged Charla all wrong.

Near the 47
^th
Street and Park Avenue exit, Charla finally stopped at an elevator where she inserted a key and, to Victoria's surprise, pressed the down button. Victoria wondered briefly whether she could overpower her and maybe take control of her mind to find out where Holly was, and then thought the better of it. If Holly got hurt because of her rash behavior, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. She couldn't risk Holly's safety until she could use magic to get them both out.

When the elevator stopped, she followed Charla down a dark musty corridor lit by a string of industrial bulbs and entered a cavernous room with vaulted ceilings. The door swung shut behind them, and Victoria noticed that they weren't alone. A person in a black coat stood at the far end of the room.

The worn floors were marble and there were no windows. It didn't smell musty like the corridor had. In fact, it looked well used, and was quite architecturally dramatic, with faded but beautiful murals on the ceilings and huge crested plaques with medieval weapons hanging on the walls. Antique furniture dotted the far ends of the room, but the most of the floor space was uncovered. Victoria noticed that there were several other doors at the back of the room where the man remained standing.

She glanced around for Holly, expanded her awareness. Curiously, she couldn't make it respond. She tried again and failed. She thought she heard low laughter.

Victoria looked Charla full in the face, displaying no panic despite her pounding heart. "Where is Holly?" she said, enunciating each word. Charla ignored her and walked toward the man in the middle of the room. "Charla, where is Holly?" Victoria repeated more forcefully. Charla turned around, a strange expression on her face, a curious mixture of envy and hate, which she quickly masked.

"Holly, Holly, Holly ... where is Holly?" she mocked. "Holly is fine." Victoria clenched her fists.

"If you've hurt her—"

"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on," Charla said. "Don't worry your precious Holly is safe. We made sure to take good care of her."

"Where is she?" Victoria repeated.

"Oh my God, are you deaf or just plain dumb?" Charla said. "She's here, you're here, everyone's here. It's our own private party." Victoria resisted the urge to scream and clenched her jaw, staring pointedly at Charla. "Oh, get over yourself,
Tori
, you really think we would hurt your stupid old aunt? She's over there." Charla jerked her head toward a door on one side of the room.

Victoria wanted to smash the smile off her face, but she didn't know if she was bluffing about Holly. Her eyes flickered to the silent figure still standing motionless halfway across the room. The amulet burned under her turtleneck.

"Show me," she said coolly. Charla threw her hands up in exasperation.

"You have legs, go see for yourself," she said with another shrug of her shoulder.

Victoria walked toward the side of the room, keeping her eyes on Charla. When she reached the tiny room that was little more than a cell, her knees almost gave out. Holly lay slumped in an armchair. She was unhurt and looked like she was sleeping. Victoria swayed, dizzy with relief.

"Holly?" she whispered.

"She can't hear you. Drugs." Charla studied her manicure. "I didn't want to waste them on her but—"

Victoria couldn't take it any longer. She summoned her energy, feeling it at the end of her fingertips like electricity, and focused coldly on Charla's monstrous face before releasing it without a second thought.

Nothing happened.

She could feel it crackling at the tips of her fingers and she tried again. Not a hair on Charla's head moved. There was sudden slow laughter from the person in the middle of the room, and he turned in agonizingly slow motion. He walked toward her his mouth twisted in a cruel smile until he was standing in front of her. Charla draped her hand around his waist and kissed him ardently on the mouth.

"As promised, delivered with a kiss," she said, as she rested triumphant, malevolent eyes on Victoria.

"Gabriel?" Victoria whispered in disbelief. She couldn't believe it. Was this about
Christian
?

He didn't respond, just stared at her with a strange expression on his face. It wasn't quite anger, more like irritated disappointment, and it made her feel as if she hadn't fulfilled some hidden expectation. She pulled the energy within and tried to teleport to Holly to get them both out. Her magic was responsive, willing, but still nothing happened. The slow, deep laughter erupted again from Gabriel's mouth, and Victoria felt the first tremor of anxiety run through her.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"That's not going to work," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, summoning up a bravado she didn't feel.

He stroked her cheek, and she swatted his hand away furiously. "Now, now, no need to be nasty. I meant your magic's not going to work. This place," he said, indicating the cavernous room, "is warded specifically for your magic." Victoria stared at him in disbelief as he smiled calmly. The smile faded as suddenly as it had come, and his lips twisted in a cruel grimace.

"
My
magic on the other hand works fine. Ictus torqueo!"

Victoria gasped painfully, doubling over at the severe, stabbing pain in her belly. His hand moved again, and she sank to the floor clutching her middle with her arms. It felt like someone was twisting a burning knife in her stomach.

"Stop, please," she said.

"Make her beg, Gabe!" Charla said, her voice echoing in the room. She crouched down to whisper viciously in Victoria's ear. "You should have seen what he did to your cat." Malice glittered in her eyes.

Some demons were human.

Victoria bit her lip as she forced herself to stand, looking Gabriel in the face and seeing the terrible truth reflected there. He had known
exactly
what Leto was, even if Charla had not. She felt a rage like she had never known boiling inside of her and she gritted her teeth, pushing against the wards. She was rewarded with another magical knife twist that sent her gasping to the floor. She concentrated on healing and discovered with relief that the magic
within
her worked just fine; it looked like Gabriel hadn't counted on that! The pain subsided but she made sure that she didn't show it, remaining stooped on the floor.