Bloodstone (9 page)

“Why don’t I tuck you in?” I followed the little red fireball.

Ivy backed away slowly. “Nah, I’m a wee bit too old for that, sis.” She grabbed the backpack and made it just toward the first step that led to the basement. Chance was watching, a bemused smirk on his face.

I stepped forward. “I think maybe I should stay downstairs with you. First night in a new place and all. You might have bad dreams.” It was a warning and the flicker in her eyes told me she knew it.

Ivy tried to rush off but I called Thor who was a better linebacker than anyone on the Bears. He bounded up the stairs, puffed up his shoulders and anchored his rear onto the landing. He grumbled something of an apology to Ivy then trained his gaze on me.

Chance said, “I’m going to bed. You two have fun.” He walked over and gave me a peck on the cheek that sent a surprising sizzle down my neck.

Chance disappeared upstairs and Ivy turned to glare at Thor. “I gave you my Cheetos. I thought we were pals.”

Thor whinnied and shrugged, but didn’t take his eyes from me.

“Downstairs,” I ordered both of them.

Thor yawned and stretched, then ambled down the stairs and crawled on top of Ivy’s bed. He circled three times and plopped down, his huge head nestled in a pillow, watching us.

Ivy flipped the light on and tossed her bag on the bed. “Go ahead and search,” she said.

That was too easy. What was she up to? I felt uncomfortable searching her things. If it were me, I would want the opportunity to explain.

“Why don’t you just tell me what it is you don’t want me to see?”

“Promise not to get mad?”

“Nope.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the money. There’s probably more than you would expect.” She started talking faster. “Look, I didn’t know how long it would take to find you. I had to survive somehow. No one got hurt and I didn’t cheat anyone, I swear.”

For the first time since we met, I looked at her like the frightened child she was. The barely-a-teenager-would-be-orphan. I was her once. Except I had family around me. Support and love. Ivy was alone. She knew this wasn’t a game. I could see it all over her. She wore confidence like a cloak, but that was purely a defense mechanism. She had to pretend this
was
a game because at the moment, she had no idea where life was leading her.

I sat down on the bed next to her and held her hand. “I’m not mad about the money. You’re safe now, okay?”

She nodded, sniffled a little.

“Tomorrow, you and I are going to have our first lesson.”

Her eyes grew bright with excitement and she began to speak, but I stopped her. “With Birdie’s supervision,” I said.

“But why? You’re the powerful one.”

Where was this girl getting her information? “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not, Ivy, but I have never been a teacher. I’ve never passed my knowledge along and since you seem to have learned just enough to be dangerous, we need to lasso and tame your talent before someone gets hurt. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Now tell me what was glowing.”

“I already did. The money.”

“Why was the money glowing?”

Ivy slid off the bed and bent over to unlace her boots. “It’s one of those pens that bankers use to make sure bills aren’t fake. Mom worked at a bank for a while so that’s how I know. If the bill is real the ink turns yellow. I guess it glowed beneath those neon bar lights.” She kicked off her boots and stretched. “I wanted to make sure no one in the bar ripped me off, so I scanned them with the pen.”

She bewildered me every day, this one. I had witnessed Cinnamon run a marker over larger bills at the Black Opal on occasion, presumably for the same reason. “What would make you think that someone would pass you a fake bill?”

Chance had left a tee shirt folded on the dresser. Ivy examined it, held it up to her chest and frowned at the Steelers’s logo. She slipped into it anyway. “I don’t know. It happens. Mom talked about phony money sometimes when she was on the phone.”

It was strange to hear her talk about my mother the years after she had left Amethyst. It left me feeling empty. Discarded.

Like phony money.

I stood up and Thor opened one eye. “I guess I should get ready for bed too.” I walked over toward the light switch and Thor jumped down.

“Stacy?” Ivy said. “Would you mind—just for tonight—sleeping down here with me?”

I turned around and said, “Why not?”

Four hours later, I knew exactly why not.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The guttural growl of a nearly two-hundred pound dog awoke me from an empty dream. Thor’s head was low, targeting something small in the corner of the room. Slowly, I raised my head, then my shoulders and tried to focus my eyes.

I couldn’t see anything around Thor’s body. A quick glance at Ivy told me she was sleeping soundly and smiling.

Then all hell broke loose.

Something chattered and squeaked and leapt through the air to land on the dresser. Thor roared and darted across the room, but whatever the flash of gray was, it was much faster than Thor. Faster even than my sight could follow.

Then Ivy’s backpack bumbled and danced around the dresser top and I figured that whatever the thing in the room was, had burrowed inside her bag.

Amazingly, the kid was still asleep. Still smiling.

Thor threw a glance my way and I gave the hand signal for him to heel. He trotted around the bed and stood still by my side, ears erect, tail straight up in the air. I lifted the covers, extracted one leg after the other and slowly stood up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Ivy giggled and rolled over, still in dreamland, and the thing popped its head out from the bag. I couldn’t make out what it was, but it chirped little bird noises and its eyes were green marbles.

There was something in its hand with glowing slash marks all over it. Thor tensed and released a long, threatening growl. The thing held whatever it was in the air—a bill from Ivy’s cash wad maybe—squawking and pacing back and forth along the dresser.

From the bed, Ivy mumbled, “Petey,” and the thing on the dresser dropped what was in his hands, flew across the room, hovered above her for a split second then floated to a wall shelf.

Thor flashed his canines and targeted the shelf. In one impressive leap, he took it and several of Chance’s old baseball trophies down to the carpeted floor in a thunderous wave.

Ivy bolted awake and screamed. I ran for the light and flipped the switch.

There was nothing but a puff of smoke where the flying creature once was.

I stood there in silence, stunned. Even Thor was quiet but it was just we three in the room. Then Ivy said, “Was Petey here?” just as Chance came rushing down the stairs.

“I heard screams. What—” Chance halted at the edge of the stairs as he surveyed the damage.

I rushed towards him. “There was a mouse and Thor got a little overzealous chasing it. I’m sorry.” I shot Ivy a glance and she nodded.

“Sorry,” she said.

Chance walked over to where the shelf had been attached to the wall, tracing the hole with his hand. He put his fingers through his hair and sighed. “It’s not too bad. I can patch it.” Then he turned toward us. “You’re both okay though?”

“Fine,” I said and he shook his head and shuffled towards the stairwell.

After I heard the door shut at the top of the stairs, I turned back to Ivy. “Who is Petey?”

She pulled her knees to her chest and said, “He was my first stuffed animal—a squirrel—when I was a baby. I slept with him all the time. We lost him once in a move. Sometimes I think about him and I can see him.”

I stared at her for a second, then told Thor to go to sleep. He curled up by the foot of the bed and I stepped into the bathroom to wash my hands and gather my thoughts.

This was more than I could handle, I knew that now. I needed Birdie’s help—like yesterday. First thing in the morning we would head over there, possibly stay at the inn if there was room. We had to tell her everything. Birdie had every right to know that her daughter might be in danger. And that she may have another grandchild.

The sink was filling up with water but I hadn’t plugged the drain. I twisted the faucet and went fishing for what was causing the blockage. The stopper put up a fight but it finally relented and popped out with a clang, clang, clang.

Only it wasn’t the stopper that made the noise. It was a penny. The year I was born.

I padded back to the bedroom. Ivy was already on her side of the bed and I slid in beside her. I set the alarm for six a.m., enough time to talk to Birdie before she served her guests—and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

The last thought that ran through my mind before I drifted off was
if that thing was what I think it was, I am in way over my head with this kid.

IVY GERAGHTY’S PERSONAL BOOK OF SHADOWS

by Ivy Geraghty

Entry #8

Today, I shall meet the mother of my mother, Brighid Geraghty, descendant of the Great Goddess Brighid whose fire still burns on the Green Isle in the county of Kildare. (Although I think it’s completely asinine to roll out of bed at the crack of dawn). At the home of my mother and her ancestors, we shall combine the talents of two generations of Geraghty women and continue our quest to save one of our own.

-Ivy Geraghty, Junior Apprentice Warrior Goddess (in training)

TWENTY-NINE

“Ivy, hurry up in there. We have to get to the house before breakfast,” I said through the bathroom door. Saturday breakfasts were a little more hectic than Sundays. Guests were usually in a rush to get downtown for shopping and sightseeing. Not only did we need to talk to Birdie, but also I needed to get my hands on the book. Where had Fiona stored my things?

The trophies and the shelf were stacked in a corner of the basement and I dusted up the crumbled drywall and tossed it in the trash. There was a note for Chance on the kitchen counter telling him where we would be and the pennies were tucked in the tiger’s eye locket that hung around Thor’s neck. I was showered and dressed and in desperate need of coffee.

I sat on the bed and reached for my black boots thinking about the thoughtform from last night.

A thoughtform (also called on egregore) is a manifestation of energy created through visualization. They aren’t real beings, but often take on an anthropomorphic or zoomorphic form. They serve as watchers, messengers, even companions. It takes a good deal of concentration and practice to develop one and only the most powerful and well-honed witch can charge a thoughtform.

Never have I heard of anyone who could do it in her sleep like Ivy had done with Petey.

The door clicked softly and Ivy emerged from the bathroom all sleepy-eyed. She yawned and said, “It’s practically still dark outside. Why on Earth do we have to leave so early?” She yawned again and fumbled through her backpack. She pulled out a black ball cap with a white pentagram embroidered on it and cupped it on her head, tucking her ears under, then straightened her fiery mane. She walked over to give Thor a belly scratch.

“Because the guests are served at eight o’clock and the sooner we get this over with, the better.” I ushered her toward the door.

We made it to the inn in under ten minutes. There was no sign of life in the front of the house, but I was certain there was some food preparation happening in the kitchen.

If only that were all that was happening, things may have turned out differently.

THIRTY

The view through the glass panes in the door showed Mr. Sayer slumped across the apothecary table that served as the prep island, a dagger sticking out of his back and blood staining his shirt. For a split second, I panicked, but then I remembered he was taking this whole murder-mystery weekend seriously. Although, I suspected his cover was blown at that point.

The spare key was kept in a gargoyle’s mouth that guarded the flowerbeds. I liberated it and unlocked the back door. Ivy followed.

“Stacy, I have to use the bathroom,” she said.

There was no sign of Birdie or the aunts.

“Down the hall to the right.”

She scampered off and I greeted Mr. Sayer. He stuck to character, not uttering a word, so I crossed to the marble countertop near the old Hoosier cabinet to pour myself a cup of coffee. The sun was peeking through the window over the farm sink when Aunt Fiona emerged from the back stairway a few minutes later. Lolly trailed behind her.

“Oh, hello, dear. You’re up early.” Fiona so put together for this ungodly hour, one might suspect she had a crew working on her all night while she slept. Lolly, on the other hand, decided to set her hair in pin curls. Using actual safety pins. She looked like a voodoo doll experiment gone horribly wrong.