Chaos (Book 4) (The Omega Group) (14 page)

“Well, there are lots of choices.
Lithium
, 
Sodium
, 
Potassium
, 
Rubidium
, 
Cesium
, Francium—”

“Julian!” Han
interrupted. “Something we’d have handy on this jet.”

“Oh, yes. Of
course.” Julian began typing again. “Silver would work. That’s an expensive
private jet. I bet its silverware lives up to the name.”

Mirissa tore open
the drawers in the small area behind the cockpit where the flight attendants
secured their supplies. “Got it,” she said as she came over with a handful of
gleaming silver knives. “Now we just need to tape them to my hand.”

“Not this time,
Mirissa. Your idea is brilliant, but for me, not you.” Han knew she wouldn’t
argue. He could accomplish exactly the same thing she could, but without
injury.

They found a roll
of tape in one of the drawers and secured the handles of six knives to his
wrist, positioning the blades so they overlapped slightly and matched the
length of his middle finger. Han altered the molecular structure of his hand so
that it would pass through the walls of the casket.

He lined up his
hand with the maglock, ensuring the knives spanned its full width, and pushed
his fingers and the makeshift silver plate into position. Using his other hand
to hold his arm steady, Han pulled his fingers down and away from the knives,
until his hand came fully outside of the box, leaving the now solid knives
jammed between the two magnets. Once Mirissa removed the tape, they were ready.

Both of them
grabbed the lid and pulled, but it remained locked. “It didn’t work,” Han
yelled at Julian as though it was the genius’s fault.

“If you lined it
up correctly, it worked. It just might not be as easy as we’d hoped. That lock
might have been made for heavy-duty doors, which means it’ll hold with twelve
hundred pounds of pressure. Slipping a metal plate the thickness of a knife
blade in there won’t bring that down to zero. You’ll still need to pull against
three or four hundred pounds.”

“Oh come on.
There’s barely even a lip to hold onto. I destroyed most of the wooden box on
our first attempt to open it. How are we supposed to exert that kind of pull?”
Mirissa’s frustrated tone echoed Han’s feelings perfectly.

Julian’s
silence—a rare occurrence in any situation—told them that he didn’t have an
answer to their question.

“We’re too close
to give up now,” Han spat out, then grabbed the lid with Mirissa and pulled
with every bit of strength he possessed.

The chanting,
which had become a constant background noise, changed slightly as they fought
to open the casket. The addition to the rhythmic recitation went almost
unnoticed, until Han recognized the sound for what it was. A guttural roar.

“Come on, big
guy!” he yelled at the behemoth of a man inside the box. “Bench press this
thing like a hot woman is watching.”

Slowly, the lid
began to rise. Han pulled while Orano pushed, and Mirissa shoved a stack of
plastic tray tables she’d torn from the backs of several seats into the
opening.  With the lid wedged open almost six inches, Orano relaxed and gulped
in much-needed deep breaths. Han reached his hands into the space, yanked away
the silky material underneath the lock, and ripped out the now exposed wires.

With power cut
off from the magnets, the lid swung easily back. Mirissa used her blade to
remove the rest of Orano’s restraints and helped him out of the box that had held
him prisoner for more than two hours. His wrists were bleeding from where he’d
apparently been bound but, other than that, he didn’t appear injured.

After giving his
teammates a nod of thanks, Orano crouched in front of the older kidnapper.

“You can stop
your chanting now. I’m not going to be dying anytime soon.”

Han’s phone
dinged and a message from Myrine lit up the screen. “Looks like we can go
outside now.”

They opened the
jet’s door to find the night lit up. Instead of the expected security and
emergency vehicles dotting the tarmac, a small military contingent sat waiting
for them.

Myrine stood at
the base of a metal staircase. “Director Finley worked his magic. Our
training
mission
is complete, and the airport officials are being congratulated on
their stellar response time as we speak. I believe there will be several
commendations and perhaps a promotion or two.”

Han smiled at
just how easily the CIA Director could cover things up. “What do you want us to
do with the Nigerians?”

“We have
transport ready to take them off our hands. They’ll be detained and questioned
by Finley’s guys for now.”

Han, Mirissa, and
Orano each grabbed one of the men and headed down the stairs. The pilot, still
zip tied to his seat let out a low groan.

“Sit tight. I’ll
be back in a second,” Han instructed the man. “I’ll tell them that you tried to
help us.”

********

Once alone, the pilot went to
work. With his hands bound to the armrest, he bent forward as far as he could
and lifted off the seat until the small maglock remote fell out of his chest
pocket. He quickly kicked it under the chair and out of sight.

Next, he twisted his body to
allow the fingers of one hand to reach inside his pants pocket and pull out his
cell phone. A second later, the familiar double ring sounded through the small
speaker.

“Yes?” their leader answered.

“I’m about to be taken into
custody with the others. We failed. Tulay is still free and protected by a clan
of powerful Demons.”

“Thank you, my son,” Bishop
Abiola said. “I have another warrior close by. We will take it from here.”

As soon as the line went
dead, the pilot dropped the phone to the floor, crushed it under his heel, and
kicked it behind him. The sound of footsteps on metal stairs signaled him to
resume the fearful expression he’d be wearing since the demons arrived.

Let them think they won.
It won’t last for very long.

Tori surveyed the room. She’d brought the entire coven,
along with Phoenix, back to her shop after Gracey found them in the woods. It
had been a serious mistake to not shield their location—a mistake that could
have cost them everything. Had Nicole not taken control of Phoenix when she
did, it would all have ended right then. They’d gotten lucky, and Tori knew it.

As she looked from one coven member to the next, she saw
uncertainty etched in their faces. Each of the women remained unusually quiet,
casting the occasional quick glance toward their prisoner before simply staring
at the floor. That attitude wouldn’t get them to the finish line, and Tori knew
it. She needed to remind them about the importance of fulfilling their
founder’s prophecy. At least the prophecy as Tori told it. Her coven members
willingly took part because they thought they were helping the world get
through an imminent disaster. They still had no idea they were actually
creating that disaster. She needed to get them firmly back on her side.

“Ladies, I know how you’re feeling right now, because I’m
feeling the same way. Gracey betrayed us all tonight with her vicious attack.
I’d hoped her time in the mental institution would have helped her heal, but it
appears she’s too far gone. I, like you, would never have believed she’d resort
to such violence. But after tonight, her lethal intentions are clear.”

A few of the women began nodding their heads in agreement,
but the rest still seemed uncomfortable. Their stolen glances at Phoenix made
their reasoning clear.

“When Gracey recruited two thugs to help her, she left us
with no choice. Obviously, we cannot—and will not—resort to violence of any
kind ourselves. That’s just not our way. By putting this man under our control,
we can hopefully stop Gracey from attacking us again. Her mental illness is far
more severe than I realized, and I owe you all an apology for not seeing that
sooner. I only hope you can forgive me.”

Tori closed her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand as
though fighting to stop her tears. The charade worked exactly as she’d hoped.
Several of the women jumped to her side to offer their support and encouragement,
while others gave sympathetic smiles.

“I’ve also called in a little extra help to keep us safe.
They’ll be here before the ceremony begins.” Tori gave her most sincere smile
to the crowd. “I promise that I won’t let anyone threaten us, ever again.”

Nicole, who’d proven to be a far more valuable member of the
inner circle than Tori previously gave her credit for, stood to address the
room. “Tori, I believe I speak for everyone here when I say this. There is a
reason you were chosen to be the one to lead all witches during the mundanes’
time of need. The prophecy foretold by our founder all those years ago is about
to be fulfilled, and we are proud to be by your side.”

A smattering of applause started in the back corner and
quickly grew to a raucous standing ovation by every single member of the coven.
They were ready, and so was Tori.

“All right, ladies.” Tori glanced at her watch. “We have
exactly ten hours and thirty-five minutes before the world is forever changed.
When that happens, we must be ready. Try to get some sleep.”

Tori made her way through the crowd like a politician
running for office, clasping outstretched hands and accepting hugs from those
close by. When she was finally able to break away from the group, Liza and
Nicole followed her to the front of the shop.

“Were you able to speak with the leaders of the European
covens?” she asked Liza.

“Yes. The blackout in Rome had exactly the effect we’d hoped
it would. They’ve all agreed to allow us to channel their powers. Although, the
high priestess from the London coven wanted me to remind you of your promise to
her.” Liza raised her eyebrow and smirked. “I assured her you’d already
announced your choice of second in command, and she definitively had the job. I
also gave those same assurances to the leaders of the Amsterdam, Munich, and
Florence covens.”

Tori let out a brief laugh. “Good. Now all we can do is
wait.”

The heavy bookcase that doubled as the door for the back
room opened behind them, and Joy stepped inside. Before speaking, she carefully
closed it.

“Gracey is still alive,” she said, her voice trembling.

It took a concerted effort for Tori to not strike the
incompetent woman down right then and there. “What?” she choked out through
gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry. I did what you said, but she had friends who
wouldn’t leave her side at the hospital, and she left with them as soon as she
woke up.” Joy’s eyes glistened in fear.

“How could you screw this up? I gave you one job to do and
you—”

“Gracey doesn’t have any friends outside of this coven. Who
were they?” Liza interjected.

She had a point there. The only people Tori had ever known
Gracey to hang out with were all seated in the next room. “They could simply be
friends that we aren’t aware of.”

“I don’t think so,” Liza added. “Suzanne told me once that
she’s Gracey’s emergency contact. Suzanne is here with us, and no one from the
hospital has called her to tell her about Gracey. If they haven’t called the
emergency contact yet, how the hell would friends find out she was there?”

Tori worked through every possibility she could think of,
but kept coming back to the same conclusion. “Gracey has more backup than just
Orano and Phoenix,” she said.

“We can’t stay here much longer.” Liza spoke calmly, as
though this kind of thing happened to her every day.

“I know a place we can go that’ll be perfect.” Tori smiled.
“Nicole, you and Joy stay in the back room with the others. Keep them happy
until we’re ready to leave. Liza and I need to gather some items to make a few
potions.”

Gracey couldn’t get her mind off Orano. She’d come so close
to losing him and needed to wrap her arms around him just to be sure he was
really okay. She’d tried to approach him after he got off the plane, but he’d
been immediately surrounded by people she’d never met—the rest of his team, she
assumed—and ushered off.

The ride back to their hotel had Gracey in the car with Mirissa
and Greco, along with a boisterous Scotsman named Myrick. The man hadn’t
stopped peppering her with questions since he’d introduced himself. It appeared
that none of Orano’s team knew anything about him at all, and Gracey’s
admission to being his childhood friend gave them a unique opportunity to
snoop.

It felt as though the drive lasted twice as long as it
should have, and Gracey wondered whether they were deliberately taking their
time just to have more chances to pry information out of her. Determined to not
give them what they wanted, Gracey dodged every inquiry she could and gave only
short, generalized answers when pressed. If Orano wanted these people to know
about his past, he would have told them himself.

When they finally pulled into the hotel parking lot, Gracey
all but flew out of the car. She could still hear Myrick laughing at her as the
sliding glass door to the lobby closed. She ran down the hallway toward her
room, but stopped short when she realized she no longer had a key. In fact, she
didn’t have anything at all. When they’d left the hospital, she’d been so
worried about Orano, it hadn’t even occurred to her to retrieve her belongings,
assuming that anything even survived the crash.

Rapping on the door, she waited for someone to let her in,
but no one answered. “Where are they?” Gracey’s breathing sped up and her heart
raced. “They should be here by now. Something’s happened to them.”

“Take it easy, lass.” Myrick took hold of her shoulders and
waited for her to meet his gaze. “They needed to make a quick stop on the way.
I’m sure they’ll be here any minute.”

Gracey’s temper flared. “They’re running an errand? Orano
was just kidnapped, for God’s sake. Couldn’t one of you have done his chores
just this once?”

Mirissa crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against
the wall, a less-than-gracious expression on her face. “We offered, but Orano
demanded that we take you straight here.”

“What the hell could be so important that they needed to
drag Orano with them?” Although Gracey knew she was basically yelling at the
most powerful human Orano had ever met, she didn’t care. They needed to know
that she wouldn’t allow them to treat him like that.

Mirissa curled one side of her mouth up in an angry grimace.
“When Orano found out you’d left your bag at the hospital, he insisted they go
pick it up.  For you.” She drove her message home by pointing at her.

Gracey swallowed hard, as guilt and shame—not to mention
utter embarrassment—washed over her. “Oh. Wow. Um, sorry.”

The Scotsman let out a belly laugh and held up a keycard.
“Orano still had his room key—one of the benefits of being a man and keeping
everything in your pocket and not in a purse. He gave it to us so you wouldn’t have
to wait for him.” When Myrick opened the door, he bent in a bow worthy of
honoring a queen and ushered her inside.

Gracey just wanted to disappear. These people were taking
care of her, yet she’d treated them like they were the bad guys. She could only
imagine what they must think of her.

“I really am sorry about how I acted. I’m not normally a
horrible person. I swear.”

All three of them stood in a line staring at her but giving
no indication of what they were thinking. Gracey swallowed again and forced
herself to meet their gazes. Myrick broke first and, as soon as he smiled, the
other two joined in. Gracey felt the air lighten as she took what felt like her
first deep breath.

“We’re just messing with you,” Mirissa said. “It’s kind of
sweet that you care enough about him to go up against the likes of us. You do
know who we are, right?”

“Yeah, well, kind of.” It occurred to Gracey that she really
didn’t know anything about who they were. “Orano just told me you’re … special
… like he is, and that you’re part of a team.”

“Yep, that pretty much sums it up,” Greco said.

“Sums what up?” The unmistakable baritone vibrated through
the room.

“Sparkles!” Gracey burst out. Before she could think better
of it, she jumped on Orano, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs
around his waist. She hugged him so tight, her muscles ached.

“I’m okay,” Orano said quietly in her ear before grabbing
her waist and setting her down on the floor.

The ear-to-ear smile Gracey wore slowly dissipated as she
noticed every pair of eyes in the room staring at her, dumfounded. Twice in as
many minutes, Gracey managed to make a complete fool of herself.

“Did she just call him Sparkles?” Myrick asked with a wry
grin.

“All right, everyone. Show’s over.” The apparent leader of
the group pushed her way past the gawkers and handed Gracey her bag. “I’m
Myrine Colson. We didn’t have a chance to officially meet back at the airport.”

Although the woman had to have twenty years on Gracey, the
only hint of her age came from the occasional streak of gray in her otherwise
chestnut hair and the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Neither of
which detracted from her stunning beauty. Mirissa definitely took after her
mother in the looks department.

“I’m Gracey McMillan. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Let’s get to work, shall we?” Myrine stepped out of
meet-and-greet mode and into team-leader mode as easily as she would a pair of
shoes. “How do we find Tori Houlton?”

“Earlier tonight, I found her through scrying. I can try
that again.” She grabbed the key ring from her bag. “Anyone have a map?”

“I thought you might need one, so I picked it up at the
hospital.” Orano laid it out on the bed. “Do your thing.”

Gracey unhooked the chain attached to her crystal, wrapping
the free end around her fingers. Once she felt her connection to the Earth’s
energy strengthen, she made her request.
Please show me where my coven
leader is.

Unlike with her earlier attempt, the crystal didn’t move, so
she repeated her plea for help.
Please show me where my coven leader is.
Still nothing.

“It’s not working. She must have cast a cloaking spell.”
Gracey felt sure Myrine thought her a fraud. They’d asked her to do one simple
task as a witch, and she’d failed.

“I figured as much,” Myrine said unexpectedly. “This Tori
wouldn’t be foolish enough to let you find her that easily twice in one night.”
She pulled out her cellphone and put it on speaker.

A voice Gracey immediately recognized answered on the first
ring. “Julian’s the name, computers are my game. What can I do for you?”

Myrine rolled her eyes, but smiled at the same time. “Tori’s
cast some sort of cloaking spell. Any chance you can find her?”

“Give me a second,” he said, the click of his keyboard keys
filling the room. “Her phone’s offline. Either that, or her spell cloaks
electronic signals, too.”

Gracey walked over to the window but, with the lights on in
the room, the view only showed her reflection. “How are we going to find her?
She could be any—” An idea struck her so forcefully it felt like a physical
thing. Where it came from, she couldn’t say, but she knew instinctively that it
would work.

“I can make a viewing mirror,” she said, grabbing the mirror
off the wall above the dresser and laying it on the bed. “Does anyone have a
knife?”

Mirissa stepped forward and curled her right hand into a
fist. Almost instantly, her unusual ring began to grow and move. A golden snake
spiraled its way around her arm until its head sat just below her shoulder. Its
tail formed a gleaming blade that stretched about eight inches past her middle
knuckle and looked like it could cut through just about anything.

“Okay, then,” Gracey said. “That’ll work. Please cut my
hand.”

“Whoa.” Orano pushed Mirissa’s blade down. “What are you
planning to do, Gracey?”

“I can’t explain how I know this, but I can do a spell to
make this mirror into a viewing portal. All I need is a little Sherwood blood.”
Gracey realized that the first part of her sentence hadn’t gone over very well
based on the looks she was receiving. “I know you might find this hard to
believe, but I am one hundred percent sure this will work. I need you to trust
me.”

“That’s good enough for me.” With a flick of her wrist,
Mirissa sliced into the tip of Gracey’s finger before Orano could object.

With a nod of thanks, Gracey held her finger over the mirror
and squeezed the tip until blood droplets fell. She recited a spell she’d never
heard before but knew by heart.

“Instead of my reflection true, allow the view I choose to
come through. What I cannot, this mirror will see. I give my blood, so mote it
be.”

The puddle of her blood grew smaller and smaller as the
mirror absorbed it. When the last spot disappeared, a swirling fog replaced her
reflection. She focused her thoughts on Tori and waited.

“Wow, it’s working,” Mirissa said, as an image of the inside
of Tori’s shop came into focus. “There’s Phoenix.”

Gracey changed her focus to him, and almost immediately
wished she hadn’t. Nicole held his totem in both hands, while Phoenix jumped
back and forth, waving his hands in the air and clucking like a chicken. The
women in the coven laughed at his humiliation, infuriating Gracey.

They watched the image in the mirror as the women piled in
cars and drove off. She focused on the vehicle she’d seen Tori enter, but the
farther away they drove, the weaker the image became. It took less than ten
minutes for her to lose the connection completely.

“That’s the best I can do. They were driving south, if it
helps at all.” Gracey shrugged.

“It’s a start,” Myrine said. “You did well. At least we know
Phoenix is safe, albeit humiliated.”

“Did you get the tag numbers I sent, Julian?” Greco called
out to their computer genius whom Gracey had forgotten still waited on the
other end of the phone line.

“I did,” he answered, then paused a moment. “Nope. Nothing.
Whatever she’s using to cloak her coven, it’s blocking everything. I’ve checked
every license plate you gave me and, even though each of the cars comes
equipped with an onboard GPS system, I can’t hack into them. It’s like they
don’t exist. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Gracey was overcome once again with the odd sensation of having
an idea jammed into her mind—not quite painful, but anything but pleasant. “We
need to go to Tori’s house.”

“Do you think that’s where they’re heading?” Myrine asked.

“No. Her house is north of the shop.” Gracey tried to find
the least crazy sounding way to explain how she knew where to go and what to
do. “Someone, or something, keeps shoving ideas into my brain, like how to make
that viewing mirror. I know how it sounds, and I swear I’m not losing it. I
don’t know who is sending them to me, but I do know that we need to follow
them.”

“Been there, done that, my friend.” Mirissa patted her on
the shoulder. “I had the pleasure of visions of the past a few months ago. I
knew they weren’t coming from me, but I still don’t know who sent them. My best
guess is one of the gods, but I don’t know which one.”

Gracey’s jaw dropped open at that last comment. She’d lived
for years thinking her particular brand of supernatural crazy was the only one
around. Now she found herself surrounded by people who made her look like a
mundane. She had to admit that it felt kind of nice to not only be able to
share her true self with other people, but to also be the most normal one of
the group.

“Tori’s house it is,” Orano said with a grin. “We’ll follow
your lead.”

“But what about the people who kidnapped you?” Gracey asked.

Orano placated her. “They’re neutralized for now. Let’s deal
with one problem at a time.”

********

The confidence Gracey had begun to feel, induced by Orano and
his team believing in her, wavered once they arrived at their destination.
She’d gotten a clear message that she could strengthen a viewing mirror made a
long time ago, allowing her to see Tori even when far away. Gracey still felt
sure it would work but, since arriving at Tori’s home, she hadn’t been able to
find the mirror. She couldn’t even be sure it actually existed. She’d never
seen it, nor had Tori ever mentioned it to her.

“Maybe I misunderstood the message.” Gracey lifted her hand
to her mouth and began chewing on her thumbnail.

“Don’t give up so quickly,” Orano said, pulling her hand a
safe distance away from her teeth.

“You said you thought your ancestor made the mirror, right?”
Myrine asked. When she got a nod in answer, she continued. “Tori would have
mentioned it to you if she wasn’t actively trying to keep it a secret. So, all
we need to do is figure out where she’s hidden it. You know her better than any
of us do, so ….” Myrine’s raised eyebrows finished the sentence for her.

Gracey glanced at the desk but quickly dismissed it as too
pedestrian a hiding place to suit Tori. The bookshelf held promise. It already
showcased some of her more prized possessions, but when they searched it, they
found no secret compartments. Gracey even made Orano lift one end away from the
wall on the off chance a tunnel would be behind it, but still nothing. They
removed every item from the small closet, but the space held only plaster walls
and wood shelving. They even tore apart the furniture.

“Maybe she took it with her,” Mirissa suggested.

Gracey’s shoulders slumped as she took in the state of the
room. They’d made a huge mess, callously tearing through the room. An
unexpected twinge of guilt knotted Gracey’s stomach. Some of these items held a
lot of value, sentimental if not monetary.