Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) (6 page)

“Do you think there are any true artifacts here?” I asked, stepping toward one of the glass display cases, pulling her along with me.

We glanced down at the torques, rings, bracelets, and charms. Nothing in this case caught my attention.

“Trinkets,” she said, sighing deeply. “Detritus of a world that vanished long ago. Maybe you’re right,” she said, glancing back at the map. “Maybe we need to stop looking to the toys of the past and start making a new future.”

We stood there in the semi-darkened room, watching the dragon lights; some bright, some dim, but all a point of power beyond any one of us, and maybe all of us if we remained afraid and divided.

We had to start working together. “We are stronger together than apart,” I said. “You need to stop fighting with Jimmy and start putting together an alliance for us to move forward.”

“You’re right,” she said. She dropped my hand, ran her fingers through her hair and straightened her shirt. “I’ll go apologize to Jim and start a conversation about a partnership.”

“Excellent,” I said, hugging her again.

We turned to the long staircase upwards, hand in hand, moving to a new understanding of our little piece of the world.

I didn’t have the heart to bring up the diary. One battle at a time. I just hope I didn’t live to regret it.

Eight

Katie sat in her classroom well after school had ended the following Monday. Her room was covered in brightly colored pictures of elephants, unicorns, narwhals, and dinosaurs. She’d finished her planning for the week. Everything was graded and put away. She could’ve gone home an hour earlier, but she was studying her mother’s diary.

She’d spent time after New Year’s snooping through Jimmy’s house any chance she got, looking for the book. Just recently she broken down and resorted to that song Sarah had picked up in Nidhogg’s library—the secret finder that made the singer pay a high price. For days after she’d have headaches or nosebleeds. Usually both.

Sarah was getting antsy, sending her to see Melanie and then a couple of specialists. She thought maybe Katie had a brain tumor. Katie couldn’t tell her she was using the song to find the diary. It was private. She had found it a couple of weeks ago and kept it stashed in her car at first. Someplace Sarah wasn’t likely to go snooping around. Then she transferred it to school, hiding it in her desk. The children would never dream of opening her desk. It was safe there. Safe enough.

She hadn’t dared open it, yet. This book had nearly killed Jimmy years earlier when he’d tried. Their mother had placed violent and dangerous spells on it to protect it. She wasn’t just keeping out childish prying. This was serious magic—deadly. Katie was bound and determined to figure it out—without Jimmy or Sarah. This was her secret.

Things had changed inside her since drinking that mead last fall, her power grew stronger and the consequences of her magic had gotten suddenly dangerous. Then, after they’d battled the cult before Christmas, things had started getting worse. There was a darkness in her, a voice that pushed her, a voice that dared her to throw caution to the wind. Life was too capricious, too violent and short to wait on niceties.

She’d learned that at the hands of the dragon Jean-Paul. Despite Sarah’s recent change of heart, dragons were not fluffy bunnies. They were manipulative killers, torturers, rapists. Katie knew she had to find something to even the odds. Her new found powers with music was one thing, cute and helpful, but nothing compared to Sarah’s Gram, or Qindra’s magical abilities. Maybe, just maybe, this diary would give her the power to protect those around her. Something to prove she would never be a victim again.

Today she just wanted to look at the diary, maybe open it. It probably wouldn’t kill her. She’d touched it with no repercussions. Deidre had handled it with no problems—something about sympathetic magic, she thought. Women’s magic. Like the ring the necromancer had used to transform Trisha into a dragon. He couldn’t have used the ring himself.

The diary cover was a dark leather that had somehow been molded to seal not only along the spine like a normal book, but also across the other three edges, hiding the pages within. It had taken her a few weeks to even hold the book for very long. She could feel the power in it, the way it wanted to leap from her hands if she gripped it too tightly. There were marks on it, a few cuts and a burn on the lower left corner, like a cigarette would leave. Careless marks, not mutilations.

Other than that, there were no other markings. If Deidre hadn’t shown it to her originally, she would’ve had no way of knowing to whom it had once belonged. At least not visually. There was the one thing that happened when she held it gently and with care. Instead of a beast ready to spring, the book flooded her with that feeling that lingers moments after someone you love deeply releases you from an embrace. Twice, when she was just holding the book and letting her mind wander, she’d smelled lilacs and her mother’s perfume. That convinced her of the books true ownership.

She let her mind drift as she stroked the book. Better to have an open mind, breathe a little. Her fears, and her worries were always at the surface.

Charlie Hague and the Mordred folks had been weighing on her mind. They knew things she didn’t; had her parents wedding bands. Katie didn’t trust them, though Sarah seemed to think that Charlie was a harmless enough guy. Katie just wasn’t convinced.

On the home front, Sarah was totally supporting and Jai Li provided joy she had only imagined. But she knew she couldn’t share these thoughts with them. And definitely not the diary. This was for her alone. And she had to keep it secret, keep it safe. Her thoughts drifted to Hobbits and birthday parties for a moment, and the irony of secrets blossomed brightly in her mind. She quashed the guilt and thought maybe it was time to go home. Jai Li would be missing her, and Sarah would be home eventually. Maybe she’d make some dinner.

She cleared the remaining papers off her desk and opened the drawer where she kept her purse. She was debating on putting the diary into her purse when voices from the hall startled her. Most everyone should’ve gone home by now. She dropped the diary into the drawer, stood, and walked to the open door, glancing down the hallway. Mrs. Danby was shaking hands with a young man in a white lab coat and carrying a medical kit. Katie was speechless for a moment: Was that Charlie Hague?

Once Mrs. Danby had walked back into her classroom and the young man had turned, Katie stepped into the hall. It was definitely Charlie Hague. Here, in her school. Alarms sounded in her head. She thought maybe she should go back into her classroom and shut the door, but he’d seen her and stopped, his face wary and his body tense.

“Hello, Ms. Cornett” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He stayed where he was, his medical bag clutched to his chest. He glanced down the hall to the exit. “I was down at Mrs. Danby’s classroom’—he pointed back over his shoulder—“checking on her rabbits.”

Katie leaned against her doorframe. “Are they in need of medical care?” she asked, watching him.

He laughed nervously, “Nothing too serious, I promise. Ms. Nibbles is going to have a litter anytime now. Mrs. Danby just wanted us do to a checkup. Can’t have something horrible happen to the classroom’s favorite pet, can we?”

She smiled. He was clean cut, dressed professionally. She could see a collared shirt and tie under the coat. He didn’t look dangerous.

“I’m sorry about our last meeting,” she said, taken suddenly with a need to justify her actions.

He held up one hand, forestalling her. “No harm, no foul,” he said, but his eyes didn’t speak of forgiveness. He was scared of her. “I really shouldn’t be here, talking to you,” he started walking, hugging the far wall, like he was afraid to get too close to her.

She stiffened, taking a quick look toward the door to the playground. “I promise never to do that again,” she said, feeling like she meant it. There was another voice in her head, an angry voice that told her he didn’t deserve her compassion, but she ignored it.

He seemed to relax a bit. “That makes me feel better,” he said. “I’m sorry I don’t have the rings with me.” He stepped three more steps toward the exit, but kept facing her. “They’re safe,” he said, holding up his hands. “But we need an official meeting, I think. I got some heat from our last …” he paused with the hint of a cringe, “… meeting. Madame Gottschalk was not pleased that I’d taken the initiative.” He fished in his jacket and pulling out a card. “Call me when you want to set up a meeting and I’ll make the arrangements.” He held his arm outstretched, his card protruding between two fingers. “I really do think it would be in both our best interests to get together and combine forces,” he shrugged. “At least share intelligence if we can’t come to an outright alliance.”

Katie crossed her arms and he let his arm drop with a sigh. “How do you know about us?” she asked.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, taking a step nearer to her, holding up his arm once more. “I want to answer all your questions, but we have to do it properly.”

“How do you know about me and my brother?”

He let his arm drop once again. “Fair question,” he said, leaning back against the wall opposite her. “I have associates who are familiar with your”—he hesitated—“current activities, let’s say.”

Heat flashed through Katie. The thought of them spying on them, on Black Brair. Her thoughts flitted back to the bugs they’d found in Jimmy’s house.

“Did you bug my brother’s house?” she asked.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging and his confidence waning. “We did,” he said, taking another step away. “I really just need to make contact with you folks. My order was on friendly terms with your parents. Before they disappeared.”

Katie’s head came up so fast, her teeth clacked together. “How do I know you didn’t make them disappear?” she asked. Anger rose in her and the dark voice in her head started to howl.

“We’re watchers,” he said, holding up one hand, showing his wrist and the tattoo exposed under his coat sleeve. “Bestellen von Mordred,” he said. “We shared information with your parents. We were allied, I swear.”

Katie marched over to him, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Where are my parents?”

“Whoa, there,” Charlie said, shrugging her hand off his shoulder and backing away. “I don’t know much, honestly. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you, but I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Start talking,” Katie said, squaring up to him and clenching her hands into fists. “Either tell me something I want to hear or get the hell out.” Her temper was flaring to the danger zone.

Charlie held one hand up as if to forestall an attack. “Mrs. Gottschalk knows more than I do. We should really meet with her. I honestly don’t know much.”

“You,” Katie said, poking him in the shoulder with one finger. “What do
you
know?”

Charlie paled, the fear coloring his features in shades of white and grey. That just made her even more angry. She wanted someone to throttle, not cow. “Iceland,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder to the open doorway. “They were meeting some people about a new archeological dig. Rumor had it they’d uncovered evidence of Jómsborg.”

Katie shook her head, confused. “Pardon?”

“Viking sect,” he said. “Rumored to have a homeland in the south Baltic sea region. Crazy warriors according to legends. No real evidence they existed, though. Nothing concrete.”

Katie’s anger began to ebb. “They went to Iceland to look at an archeological dig?”

“That was their starting point, or so our sources say.” Charlie looked innocent enough. Just a guy trying to have a conversation.

“Is that the official reason for the trip, or the secret reason?”

Charlie laughed a fearful guffaw. “Touché. That is the secret reason. Officially, they told both the Icelandic and United States governments that they were just sight-seeing.”

Katie stepped back, leaned against the wall by her classroom door. “That makes sense based on what I know,” she said. “But why are you talking to us now? Why haven’t you contacted us sooner?”

She’d hit a nerve there. He looked down, shuffling his feet. “Politics,” he mumbled.

“What?”

He looked up at her. “Honestly, political bullshit. Our order is afraid of every shadow, double-checks and rechecks everything just to make sure we’re safe—in the shadows—in control.”

Now it was Katie’s turn to chuckle. “You sound disgruntled.”

“Hell, yes,” he said. Suddenly he looked more in control. “Gottschalk will totally kick my ass, but I have to tell you. They’re scared out of their minds that you folks are going to fuck things up and bring the wrath of the dragons down on all of us.”

Katie made a thoughtful pout. “That was brutally honest.”

Charlie shrugged again. “Look, if Sarah has”—he leaned in to whisper—“really killed a dragon.” He glanced over his shoulder and back. “They are gonna flip their shit.”

“And do what?”

He pulled back, shocked. “You mean it’s true?”

Now it was Katie’s turn to shrug. “Why are you asking me? If you’re watchers, wouldn’t this be the exact kind of thing you should be watching for? If you don’t even know if that much is true, how good can you guys be. Sheesh.”

Charlie flushed. “They’re a bunch of old women,” he said. “All they do is drink their tea, bitch about the old days, and warn us against moving too fast. I’m the youngest recruit and I don’t know much.” This was something that had been eating him a while, it seemed. “Half the time I think they only recruited me because they needed a gopher—or more likely free vet care for their damned cats.”

Katie smiled at that. That’s how Jimmy made her feel. Like she wasn’t good enough to play with the grownups. “I guess they saw something there,” she said, feeling her anxiety drain away. “I’m sure you add something to the group.” Suddenly she felt very sorry for young Charlie Hague. He was about her age, maybe a year older, and, it seemed, out of his league.

“Well, you’d think I had something to add,” he started, getting a full head of steam. “Like speaking seven languages, having degrees in history, veterinary medicine, and theater?”