Tegan's Return (The Ultimate Power Series #2) (24 page)

 My attention wanders back to Pamphrock, who is still addressing the slayers. “The war is at a standstill for tonight. But make no mistake, there will be retaliations from the South. We need to be ready when they make their next move. For now, go home and get some rest. I will require each and every one of you who is of sound body to report to me at nine tomorrow morning. There will be preparations to make. You have all fought with bravery and honour tonight, and I thank you for your continuing loyalty.”

 At this he steps away, and there are sounds of agreement from those present. I think everybody's a little too exhausted to clap or cheer at the moment. Slowly, people begin to make their way out of the compound to go home for the night. I follow Finn and the rest of them as they make their way to his van. I notice Gabriel and Delilah are currently engaged in a serious, hushed conversation. The two of them get into Gabriel's car and quickly pull away.

 “Where are those two off to?” I ask Alvie.

 He shrugs and answers, “Some new found family bonding I imagine. I'm too tired to care right now.”

 I nod and hop in the back of the van, eternally grateful that the night is finally at an end.

Arriving back at Finn's house, we find Noreen in the living room with Amanda. Rita's mother has my friend all tucked under several blankets on the couch, feeding her a bowl of soup. I go to sit by her.

 “How has she been?” I ask, placing a hand to Amanda's forehead. Her temperature seems to be okay.

 “She woke up about two hours ago in a panic, so I brewed up a pot of my special broth to help ease her withdrawal symptoms.” Noreen answers.

 I glance over at the yellow coloured soup in the bowl. “Is it magical?”

 Noreen winks. “It might be. I know of some spells that will assist in her rehabilitation. Addiction to the bite of a vampire cannot be overcome naturally. She will die if we don't incorporate magic into the healing process.”

 I listen seriously as Noreen explains herself. “If we use magic, how long will it take for her to be her normal self again?”

 “Oh, three or four weeks maybe.”

 “That's good. Thanks so much for caring for her Noreen.” I stand and stretch my arms over my head, a yawn escaping my lips.

 “It's a pleasure Tegan,” she replies, looking back to Amanda who has now fallen asleep.

 I retreat upstairs to take a shower, but Finn has already claimed it. I sit down on the edge of the bed in the spare room, my clothing damp and clammy, and wait for him to finish. I soon get a migraine as my brain tries to comprehend everything that has happened. I fish some headache pills out of the drawer beside the bed, and knock several of them back. I fall into the pillows, and find myself drifting off to sleep. Shower be damned.

 The next day I wake up in the late afternoon to the sound of somebody honking a horn outside. I'm still in my dress from the night before. It's stuck hard and solid to my body. I peel it off and throw on a t-shirt and some jeans, before venturing downstairs to see what all of the noise is about.

 As I step outside I'm confronted with the sight of Rita sitting in the driver's seat of a gigantic RV. She continues honking the horn, laughing all the while. Alvie's sitting in the passenger seat with his hands over his ears. She stops when I step out and walk over to her.

 “You like?” she asks, with a delighted grin.

 I put my hand on the vehicle and look it up and down. “Where on earth did you get this from?”

 “A client of mine owns a car rental business. He rents these out to holiday makers, but when I mentioned my current homelessness he offered to give this to me on loan until we get the house rebuilt.”

 “That's great. So you're going to live in this for the foreseeable future?”

 “Yes, well I told Finn and he said I could keep it parked here. Just in case the magical families come sniffing around my place again. You want the grand tour?”

 Rita shows me the inside of the RV. It has three bedrooms, a kitchen and living room and two bathrooms. Not bad for a glorified camper van. It will be good enough for her, her mum and Alvie to live in for the time being. At least the house will be slightly less crowded now.

 I spend the rest of the day taking care of Amanda, and Noreen shows me how to make that special healing broth of hers. My pink haired friend looks better already; some of the colour has returned to her complexion and her eyes are less blood shot.

 The days pass by in a haze. I try to keep my mind off Ethan by focusing on searching for my dad. Rita informs me that he must be still alive and being kept in Freemont Park because nothing unusual happened during the winter solstice. Whatever ritual has been planned, it must be some distance in the future.

 It's not exactly the most inconspicuous way of searching for him, but I've been going door to door with a picture of my dad. I bring Wolf along with me to make the activity less lonely. Most people shake their head and tell me they're sorry but they haven't seen him before. Others don't even bother to answer the door.

 I resolve not to go back to my life in Manchester until I have made sure that he's safe and well. If I could rescue Rebecca from the most powerful vampire in the city, then it should be easy to save my dad from whoever has got him. I call Jeff up at the art gallery and tell him that I won't be back for a while longer. He's not quite as understanding this time around, and informs me that if I can't get back he's going to have to give my job to somebody else. Tears clog my eyes as I hang up the phone.

 A strange living arrangement takes shape at Finn's house. Rita, Alvie and Noreen stay in the RV out in the front garden, while Finn, Amanda, Gabriel, Delilah and I reside in the house. Meal times are hectic and crowded, but it makes me feel like we've created something of a misfit family.

 On the day after Christmas Finn strolls into the living room while I'm watching television. He's carrying a large brown envelope.

 “Somebody pay you off for your silence?” I snicker.

 “No,” he replies. “This is for you. Payment from the Governor. He said he put a bit extra in, something about you casting a spell for Rebecca.”

 Shit, I'd forgotten all about that. I glance quickly into the envelope and my eyes widen at the neatly packed bunches of notes. I shove it to the side of the sofa before turning back to Finn.

 “So, all quiet on the Western front then?” I ask.

 Finn sits down beside me and grabs the remote from my lap, switching through the stations.

 “I think you'll find it's the Northern front we're defending, but whatever. The vampires have been keeping a suspiciously low profile. There hasn't been one single attack since the party at Whitfield's mansion.”

 “Do you think they're planning something?”

 “They're always planning something, but sometimes they like to play the long game. It could be weeks or even months before they make their move.”

 “Huh.”

 We watch some soap opera in silence for a bit. Then Gabriel and Delilah come storming into the room, in the midst of a serious conversation. Those two seem to be having a lot of serious conversations these days, never letting anyone know what they're talking about.

 They both go strangely quiet when they notice the room isn't empty. Finn grins up at the both of them. “Well bro and sis, what's happening?”

 Delilah scowls at him, but doesn't say anything. Gabriel sends her a questioning look, as though asking for permission to tell us what's going on. Delilah shrugs and nods for him to go ahead.

 “Delilah's had a phone call from Ethan,” he says.

 My heart does a somersault in my chest. Ethan has been on my mind far more than I'd like to admit. I hate the fact that I miss him so much.

 “And...” Finn prompts.

 “He's been having trouble with Whitfield. The Governor has made no secret of the fact that he plans to replace Ethan in his inner circle because of what happened with Rebecca,” Delilah puts in.

 Great. There's the guilt again, squeezing the air from my lungs.

 “Wasn't he angry about you leaving?” I ask.

 “Of course he was. But he seems to have come to understand my reasons. Still, he's been trying to convince me to come back. I've told him I can't, not with Whitfield still in power.”

 I want to ask another question, but I'm afraid of what the answer will be. Oh God, I can't hold it in. It's pointless trying. “Did – did Ethan mention me when you spoke to him?”

 Finn's body language tenses beside me. I don't think he likes the idea that I have feelings for Ethan. He thinks it's suicide getting involved with a vampire. That Ethan will ruin me just like Lucas ruined Amanda. I don't think he realises that I would never allow Ethan or any other vampire to bite me. At least not willingly.

 Delilah fidgets awkwardly. “No he didn't mention you Tegan. You hurt him really badly, and my brother has a problem with forgiveness.”

 I can't help scowling. “He forgave you pretty easily.”

 “Ethan understands that I did what I did because I was frightened. You chose to actively go behind his back.”

 It takes a great effort to hold back my tears at Delilah's words. I grab my envelope full of money and silently rise to leave the room. Upstairs in my bedroom I dive beneath the duvet, weeping into the pillow. I'm so sad, but I deserve this. Ethan's hate is my punishment for doing what I thought was right.

 There's no point in feeling sorry for myself, because I know that if I had the chance I'd do it all over again. I know what it's like to have a loved one stolen from you, and the look on Pamphrock's face when I returned Rebecca to him might just be worth this heartache.

Mama, We All Go To Hell

It's New Year’s Eve and I still haven't found my dad. I'm lying on Finn's couch with my headphones on, listening to The Damned in an effort to drown out the worry in my head. It's not working much. Rita's been busy taking clients and helping Finn with various DOH matters, so we haven't had the chance to perform another spell to try and locate him. I finally get around to asking Gabriel if he knows anything about the rogue magic users I'd encountered, but he only tells me that if they do exist then he isn't aware of them. 

 The door opens and Rita flounces in with a massive grin on her face. “Are you up for some excitement tonight?”

 I turn off the music to talk to her. “I'm really not in the mood to celebrate the New Year Rita. You go ahead though. Have some fun, you deserve it.”

 Rita shakes her head and folds her arms over her chest. “I'm not going to take no for an answer. You've been moping around for the last week. You need to come out with me and let off some steam.”

 I roll my eyes. Rita doesn't fail to notice this and she rolls hers right back with a little too much sarcasm for my liking.

 “Fine. What exactly did you have in mind?”

 “Well,” says Rita, a gleam in her eyes because I've given in, “there's this beach.”

 “Right, and...” I prompt.

 “It's sort of a magical beach. Well, it's thought to be a location of concentrated earth magic. It's called Sycamore Strand and there's going to be a New Year's party there tonight and I really, really want you to come with me.”

 “Okay, I know that place. I used to go there during the summer when I was a kid. I didn't know it was a magical beach, but I don't suppose that will surprise you. Have you asked the others?”

 “I have. Everyone's coming except for Mum. Oh and Amanda, she's not well enough to go out yet. Mum will keep an eye on her while we're gone.”

 “Fine, I'll come. I'm going to go take a nap first, so call me when I need to get ready.”

 “You're taking a nap at this time? You really need to get yourself out of this funk Tegan,” Rita says, her shrewd brown eyes all judgemental.

 “Whatever. I'm lethargic. And I'll get out of my funk when I find my dad.”

 I leave her then and go upstairs to take the aforementioned nap. When I wake up it's seven in the evening and Finn is sitting on the bed watching me worriedly. I rub my eyes and sit up.

 “What's your problem?” I ask, all grumpy.

 “You've been sleeping during the day,
again
,” he observes.

 “Well spotted Holmes,” I reply snappily, getting out of bed to find some jeans and a t-shirt clean enough to wear to Rita's new-years-beach-thing.

 “Are you depressed?” Finn asks, his eyes still trained on me as I continue my search for clothes.

 “I'm always depressed, life is depressing. My life in particular.”

 “You could've fooled me. I mean, you seemed really lonely when I'd been watching you back in Manchester. But ever since you've been back you've had a bit more of a swing in your step. That was until the whole fiasco at Whitfield's.”

 “Listen Finn, I don't want to self-analyse right now. I just want to go and get drunk.” I pull on a crumpled grey t-shirt and some black jeans with my boots, run my fingers through my hair, and I'm ready to go. I grab my coat and walk right past Finn to hurry downstairs where Rita, Alvie, Gabriel and Delilah have culminated in the kitchen.

 They're all really dressed up and Rita gives me an appraising look. “That's what you're wearing eh?”

 I shrug and pull on my coat. Wolf comes over and gives me a slobbery lick on the back of my hand. I kneel down to rub his head. “Hey, are you coming with us, boy?” I ask. Wolf barks once in response, so I take that as an affirmative.

 I go over to the kitchen cupboard and pull out the bottle of vodka I'd hidden there earlier in the week. I shove it inside my coat without anyone noticing. We all huddle into Finn's van and make the half hour journey out to Sycamore Strand. The place is really living up to its reputation right now. Somebody has lit hundreds of candles and has spread them out all along the sand. They twinkle like fairies in the dark. Magical.

 There are about a hundred people gathered, all camped out on woolly blankets and sipping on bottles of beer. There's a portable stereo sitting on a rock playing some kind of trance music. It really sets the scene, and I'm glad Rita asked me to come. This is the perfect place for me to get drunk and forget for a little while.

 Most of the people here are hippies. They chat and laugh and welcome us right into the party. I sit down on a blanket in between Rita and Alvie, while surreptitiously taking sips of the vodka that sits nestled in the inside pocket of my coat. I haven't got the patience it takes to get drunk on beer tonight.

 I notice that Finn's being quite flirtatious with Delilah, but she's not really reciprocating. Still, Finn being Finn, her reserved demeanour doesn't deter him. Sometimes I wonder if he flirts because he's actually interested in a girl, or simply for the fun of it. He enjoys being the wind up merchant does Finn. I lie back on the blanket, while Rita and Alvie continue to chat over my head. I stare up at the night sky, where thousands of stars glitter against a deep, black canvas. No moon tonight though. At least I can't seem to spot it anywhere.

 I'm feeling increasingly tipsier from the alcohol, and my eyes tip back to look over where there are shrubs, grass and rocks beyond the sand. I hear the motor of a vehicle approach before I spot a van driving by. It keeps to the grass and passes by the gathering of people on the beach, continuing to the very end where it disappears around the side of a cliff.

 Even though it's dark, my eyes still register the colour of the vehicle. Red. That provokes a memory, and I try to remember when it was that I last saw a red van. My mind is a little hazy, but soon the answer presents itself. The time when I'd been searching Freemont park for Dad with Ethan, and I'd had that fizzing feeling in my stomach until a red van had driven off down the road. Had my dad been in the red van, or perhaps whoever it is who took him?

 Abruptly, I sit up and pat Wolf on the head, who has been sitting by my feet. I tell the others that I need to go and relieve my bladder somewhere private so that they won't question where I'm off to. Wolf follows hot on my heels and I hurry to the end of the beach, which takes quite a while since it's about a mile long.

 When I get past the corner of the cliff, I peer up at the overhang as it looms above me. I rush to the other side, but the van is nowhere to be seen. Then something flickers far off in the distance. I squint my eyes to see. It looks like somebody's set a fire in one of the caves. Normally I wouldn't try to investigate all on my own, but I have Wolf with me as well as the idiotic courage of alcohol. I'm feeling brave, and I continue on through the rocks and sand before coming to the opening of a cave.

 The red van is parked just outside the cave. I hadn't been able to see it before from such a distance. Something heavy and dark fills the air. The atmosphere is thick with an unpleasantness I can quite put my finger on. And crap, my palms are tingling again. This is it, my dad could be on the other side of this cave. The problem is, I don't know who else is in there, and whether I'll be a match for them. I really should have gotten the others to come with me. All of a sudden, I'm as sober as a judge. It's funny how fear will do that to you.

 Wolf begins to whimper as he stands next to my leg. I try to hush him but it sounds like he's in pain. Then he drops to the sand and his entire body starts to convulse. I fall to my knees and put my hands on his fur, which is abnormally cold and rough. What the hell is going on?

 I rub him up and down his back as he continues to whine and shiver, his whole form shaking helplessly. It almost looks like he's shifting in and out of my vision. Perhaps I'm not as sober as I thought.

 I can hear the fire crackling now from inside the cave, as well as a number of voices speaking in unison, chanting almost. I don't want to leave Wolf alone, but I know that whatever is causing him to shake so violently is coming from the cave. I take a step forward and peer around the stone entrance.

 Shadows dance on the high stone ceiling, and smoke rises from the flames. Everything is blurry though, and I can't seem to make out the figures properly as they circle the fire in the centre of the space. The vision puts me in mind of Rumpelstiltskin, as he danced around the fire at night, singing the riddle of his name.

 My eyes draw up then, and I notice that there's a makeshift platform above the fire, standing almost eight foot tall. And God, there's a body stretched out flat upon it. Whoever it is, they howl in pain as the flames rise higher and lick at their flesh.

 In my head, I can't help but to recite the children's nursery rhyme,
Today I'll brew, tomorrow bake, merrily I'll dance and sing, for the next day will a stranger bring, little does my lady dream, Rumpelstiltskin is my name
. It's always stuck with me that rhyme, ever since I'd been a kid. There was something about it that I found very creepy, and it resembles the current situation quite accurately.

 The figures continue to move in circles. Their movements are harsh and barbaric. In fact, they resemble the gestures of the magical families. Their words are foreign to me, yet I know that their meaning will not bode well.

 I keep my body pressed flat against the stone wall, as I move further and further inside the cave. I should be running a mile, but that pull is there again, the one that pulled me to find Rebecca in Whitfield's mansion. The heat of the fire causes a bead of sweat to trickle down my forehead; it catches in my eyebrow.

 The figure I can see the clearest is male. He seems familiar, but it takes a moment for me to recognise him. It's the man who lead the witches and warlocks when they'd set fire to Rita's house. Michael Ridley.

 There are six of them in all, some are female, but it's another male that my eyes are drawn to. He's even more familiar than Ridley. He's tall and has long grey hair held together by a strip of thin leather. Oh my God. It's Marcel! I think I'm going to be sick. Now I know whose mouth it was I'd recognised in the vision of my dad created by Rita's magical spell bowl.

 Again I look up at the body spread out on the platform, and my sight becomes clearer. I know whose body that is, the body of the man who brought me into this world, who I have been searching for weeks for. Dad.

 Tears escape my eyes and confusion clouds my brain, as I try to figure out what the hell they are doing with him. Why has Marcel taken my father? I need to do something to stop this, and I wince as another pain induced scream emits from my dad's throat. The heat in the cave is too much to take, and the fire grows higher and higher, as though induced through magic.

 This is the ritual the dying witch Zara had mentioned my dad's kidnappers were going to use him for. And it's New Year's Eve, surely the day has some kind of significance. Leaving behind the old to embrace the new. But what is the outcome they wish to achieve? Are these the people the warlock had spoken of to Ethan and Whitfield by the lake that time? He'd said they were trying to bring somebody back, but who? These questions and a dozen more swirl through my head, no answers presenting themselves, and this increases my fear, anger and frustration tenfold.

 My hands continue to tingle. My magic is just waiting for me to use it. It seems that, unintentionally, I have become accustomed to containing it, without even practising the way Rita had instructed me to.

 The chanting turns to English now, and it's Marcel who speaks over the group. He has a brown jug in his hand and he raises it up high above his head. “With this power laden blood, I summon the opening of the worlds.” He stops and gestures to my father on the platform. “With this man, I wish to complete the exchange. A life returned here, for another sent there. Meld the blood of the daughter with the life of the
pater familias
and bring my great ancestor back to this plane.”

 Power laden blood? Oh God, that's my blood, the blood that got stolen from me when I'd been on my way home from Rita's. How did Marcel know about it?

 Marcel continues to speak. “Once the blood is spilled, so it shall be done.” He tips the jug forward, but I rush into the fray, both arms moving all about, gesturing to summon my magic. The sparks fly out but they don't burn this time. They circle the jug, holding it in place so that my blood cannot be spilled.

 Marcel's eyes dart to me, as do those of the other members of the circle. “Darling,” he beams, with the falsest of smiles. “Welcome, and please do refrain from what you are doing. The ritual is already in motion. There is no going back now. Unless you want the denizens of hell to be given free reign to move between the realms.”

 “Let my dad go,” I breathe, not letting go of my magical hold on the jug.

 “I'm afraid that is impossible now. Do not worry, he won't die. We're just sending him to another place.” Marcel explains, his face is hard and I can tell he's doing his best to remain calm.

 “LET. HIM. GO!” I scream, and use my other hand to throw sparks at Marcel. He grimaces as they hit his skin, but he doesn't wail in pain. Instead he suffers through it.

 I'm about to throw more sparks at him when I'm suddenly knocked to the ground and held down by Michael Ridley. I lose my hold on the jug and it crashes down into the fire. The moment it hits, the fire fades into a gaping, misty black hole in the ground. Dark shadows rise up and seep out of it. One of the female members of the circle reaches up and pulls on a rope. The platform comes apart and my father falls into the hole. A split second later it closes and seals itself shut.