Velocity (18 page)

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Authors: Abigail Boyd

BOOK: Velocity
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“I don’t like this,” Henry said. He leaned forward and squeezed my hand. “This doesn’t sound safe at all.”

“I’m fine, Henry,” I insisted. “Let’s get started so I don’t have time to change my mind.”

“Hugh, you’re really okay with this?”

“We don’t have any other choice,” he said, staring hard into Henry’s eyes. “I was doubtful at the beginning, too, Henry. But she’s used the stone before and been fine afterward.”

Henry stood up, kissed me on the forehead, and went to the door. “Be that as it may, I don’t want to watch. I’ll be right out here, Ariel.”

Although I was trying to keep it together, I was very nervous about seeing Dexter in the flesh. Especially now that I know we’re related. And I didn’t think that the black dog would be happy.

I lay back, watching everyone else retreat from the room. Alex gave me a double thumbs up on the way out. With my shaking hand, I balanced the grounding stone on my chest. It had definitely gotten heavier―it could have easily weighed ten pounds now. I listened to the sounds in the next room until I found the blackness.

I pictured the members of Dexter’s Society sitting around the dining room table, his portrait staring at them. Candles glowing in the candelabras. Dexter at the head, watching them all with intelligent, soulless eyes.

His painting was scary enough, but in the flesh, John Dexter gave off a presence that was intimidating, even from across the room. He stared at the flames reflected in his wine goblet. He wore a heavy, long coat, the bottom of which draped along the edges of his chair. I noticed Eleanor’s necklace hanging against his chest, in a triangle of bare skin revealed by his undone buttons. His hair was longer than the photo and painting in which I’d seen him, hanging in scraggly chunks. Just the sight of him made my blood run cold.

Yet, I felt drawn to him. I looked him over, searching for any sign of kindness or softness. But all of the bones of his face were hard and his expression was merciless. There was nothing to show he that had a heart. The softer side of Dexter didn’t exist, apparently.

His guests were talking amongst themselves softly. I walked around the table, watching the animated corpses in the candlelight. The room was decorated beautifully, with a red satin tablecloth, oil paintings on the walls, and a cabinet full of gleaming goblets and delicate china that looked like it had never been used.

I thought of how he’d dressed the orphans in potato sacks and torn nightgowns and thought I might be sick. All of his guests had dressed well for the evening, the men in slick suits and the two women in beautiful dresses on opposite ends of the fashion spectrum―Sissy wore a knee-length, sequined red dress, and Hazel Ford was dressed like a Victorian duchess.

I noticed a grandfather clock on the other side of the room. I didn’t remember seeing it before. As I looked closer, I realized it was just like the one we used to have in our dining room. The pendulum swung gently, as if rocking a child to sleep.

Sissy twisted her short, uneven hair around her fingers. She was muttering to herself in a high baby voice. “Don’t look now, here comes the star. Don’t look now, don’t looky look.”

Well, at least someone here had been touched by the crazy.

The widow Ford and Paul Rhodes, who looked quite a bit like the other men in his bloodline although not as handsome, were huddled together in quiet conversation. His eyes kept shifting around the room, never focusing on one place. Dr. Slaughter was twisting a dinner knife on his palm and staring into the candle fire.

“Will the Mortius pendant work?” Rhodes spoke up from his spot.

“How can you ask such a thing?” Dexter replied coldly. His voice was surprisingly soft, not what I’d imagined from such a large, imposing man. “Of course it will work. It is hot, even now, with the power from the captured souls.”

“I mean no harm. I was merely wondering,” Rhodes said. But there was a restless, shifting gleam in his eye that I didn’t trust. I’d seen the same look from Phillip.

Sissy picked up a fork full of food from her still-full plate. She glanced around the room, then dropped the fork again, eying it longingly. The food didn’t look at all appetizing―there was some kind of gray slop that looked like brains, and a bloody piece of steak with some beans beside it. For a feast, none of them had eaten much. I didn’t blame them.

“I was able to bring all of the equipment you requested,” Dr. Slaughter said. He was younger than I expected him to be. He gestured to his leather satchel. “The scalpels were easy enough to conceal. The tranquilizers might illicit an inquiry.”

“If there is anyone around to ask questions after tonight,” Sissy said, letting off a nervous giggle. The idea either terrified or excited her.

Anticipation filled the room, electric and suffocating. I could feel it against my skin. Dexter drank his wine.

“You won’t have mixed feelings, will you?” Doctor Slaughter asked. “About Ruby?”

Dexter’s tongue covered his teeth. “I have no real feelings. She’s the closest thing I have to kill.” The others didn’t look convinced, and I wondered who this woman was. It was the first I’d heard of her.

“Where are the rest of the orphans?” Rhodes asked. “The ones that are left?”

“Most of them are fertilizing crops in the field,” Dexter said casually. “But the others are tied up downstairs, just in case.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Rhodes asked, tilting his eyebrow. He was pushing it again.

Dexter seemed to find that humorous, and traced the top of his goblet. “They’ll all die soon enough.”

The clock struck midnight. “It’s time,” Dexter said, and rose to his feet. The rest of them followed his lead.

At the huge fireplace, Dexter paused, tapping the ashy grate with his foot. Then, just like that, he walked right inside and to the right. I’d never thought of checking the fireplace, too creeped out by its size and icky smell. Behind the fireplace was a hidden corridor. I followed them down a long, twisting passageway.

At the end of the passageway, the tunnel spilled out into a wide cavern. The walls and floors were made of dirt, with a rough wooden structure supporting the ceiling. There was a gigantic seal in the middle of the ground. I’d never seen this one before, and my breath caught in my throat. The final seal, the one that Phillip had told me didn’t exist. He must have really thought I was stupid.

It was twice as large in diameter as the others, and much more ornate and ugly. It looked like it was carved out of stone, and there were copper symbols set directly into it. Beastly shapes―not quite animals, more like demons―had been carved into the stone. It looked as though each was eating the one next to it.

There were iron plates in the corners of the large room, and I could make out fuzzy, humanoid shapes standing on them. But even when I squinted, I couldn’t see them exactly. I must not be able to see spirits mingling with the past, I thought.

Three girls were bound together on the seal. The one in the middle looked very familiar, but I could only see part of her young face. All of them had their heads bowed, and were dressed in long, white tiered dresses―just like the one I’d dream myself into several times.

Dexter definitely had the ceremonial touch.

The woman in the middle lifted her head, and I saw with a shock that it was the woman in red. Only she looked pale and scared now. I caught a streak of defiance in her eye as the group drew closer.

I knew in an instant that she was Ruby, and it didn’t take long to make the connection. Ruby was my great-grandmother, and something had turned her into the red woman. I had a creepy instinct that I was about to witness exactly what that was.

The other orphans, about ten girls and boys in all, were tied together in the corner. They watched the proceedings with frightened eyes. All of them had very short hair and were wearing baggy, brittle clothing.

Sissy picked up a rock from the cavern floor and chucked it in Ruby’s direction. Ruby tilted her head and the rock missed her by an inch. Dexter turned and glared at Sissy, wiping the smile from her face.

I felt a stirring to my right, and turned. Eleanor was suddenly beside me. This time, I tried not to freak out. She would have already hurt me or attacked me if she could or was going to. She was my grandmother, after all.

“Watch closely,” she said in her slithering whisper. The dog was sitting and watching the proceedings intently, his eyes trained on Ruby.

Dexter turned around and stared right at Eleanor and me. My skin crawled and I froze on instinct. He turned back to what he was doing, but I knew he had sensed us there in the shadows.

“His power is strong, but he can’t see us. We weren’t there in his time,” Eleanor said in answer to my unspoken fear. “The most he can feel is our energy.”

“Umbra Regnum,” Dexter said. The others repeated the phrase. “Now is the time to call forward the Dark realm.”

Lifting up the familiar book that Rhodes had used, Dexter began to speak the same words, his voice booming against the high ceiling. “Oh Dark Master, we call to thee…”

The others lit candles as he spoke. When he reached the end of the first section he paused and picked up the ceremonial dagger by its ivory handle. Staying there was becoming a struggle. My heart pounded in protest as I grew sick and nauseous. I was shaking with effort of trying to hold on.

“Stay. You need to see the end of this,” Eleanor warned.

Dexter walked around in front of Ruby. He rested the blade up against her rosy cheek. She winced and closed her eyes. I prepared myself for the violence to come. But then Dexter paused, keeping the tip of the knife still. I hesitantly walked around and looked into his face, and for the first time saw emotion. He had feelings for her.

Even though I struggled to keep the vision before me steady, I couldn’t hold on anymore. Reality hit me much harder than it ever had before. A cracking sound reverberated through my ears as I came to, and I was instantly on my feet, the room spinning fast around me.

For a second, I didn’t know who anyone was.

“Ariel, it’s okay. We’re here,” said a cute boy with brown eyes. He grabbed on to me to hold me steady. I blinked, focusing on his tentative, pained smile. Henry.

The girl with red hair beside him tried to smile at me, too. She was wearing a lot of glitter and a polka-dotted dress with little skull patterns on the collar. But her vivid green eyes were worried. “She’s usually not this upset,” she told the others. “We should go get her dad.”

The girl―Theo, I thought, as the fog lifted―ran with the other girl and boy out of the room, and returned a second later with Hugh and Callie.

I became aware that I was mumbling, but I couldn’t stop my traitorous mouth fast enough. “I can’t be. Can’t be related to him. Not Dexter…”

I attached names to the other faces around me with relief. Hugh helped Henry lay me back down.

“Ariel,” he said, holding my hands.

“I’m okay, guys,” I said, finally feeling more like myself. “You can back up now.” They were all clustered around the bed, but took a reluctant step back. The touch of the wires for the monitors was suddenly unbearable.

“Can you please get all this stuff off of me?” I begged Callie, ready to rip it all off myself. Something about the pressure points on my skin and the beeping of the monitors made me feel like crawling out of my skin.

“Sure,” she said, and began detaching me. “Did you see anything?”

“I saw everything. Up until they truly started the ritual, up until Ruby―she was one of the girls they were sacrificing, the one that Dexter found precious―was cut. Then I couldn’t hold on anymore…”

The room seemed to be getting dark. I blinked, but the darkness only got worse. Suddenly a beeping sound erupted from the heart monitor. I felt myself drop and slip away, the others scrambling around me, shouting and crying out, as the world disappeared.

 

CHAPTER 17

WHEN I WOKE
up next, I was in the emergency room at the hospital. Hugh was dozing in a metal chair beside me, fast asleep. The TV up on the wall had a morning show on. I could hear the faint drip of fluid in the IV attached to my arm.

Hugh stirred as I sat up. He reached out and grasped my hand. “You finally woke up,” he said, smiling in relief.

“What happened?” I asked foggily, running my hands through my tangled hair.

“Your blood pressure bottomed out. You passed out and we rushed you to the ER. It took a little while to stabilize you, but the doctor said you’re going to be okay. How do you feel?”

I squeezed his hand back. “I’m fine. My head hurts a little, but that’s nothing a few aspirin won’t fix. When can we go home?”

He shifted and sat up. “They want to keep you here until you’re completely stabilized for over twenty four hours.”

“When can we try the grounding stone again? I still want to see the rest of the ritual.”

His eyes hardened. “We’re done with the stone. Period. I told you if anything happened to you we would stop. I thought I might lose you, too…” He choked up.

“Dad, I’m fine. I just stayed there too long. Next time I won’t push myself so hard.”

“There’s not going to be a next time. Ever.”

There was a battle going on inside me. I knew it was foolish, but I was desperate for the truth. I had the vague sense that the stone had developed some kind of hold on me when I wasn’t paying attention.

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