Witch's Diary: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 4) (24 page)

Eyes wide, Kenna said, “Don’t you dare make a dead zone in my mom’s living room. She will kill me.” She figured her mom would be super pissed if she made it home only to find a dead zone in her living room.

Apparently the little group had landed on the one thing that they could all agree on. Dead zones were bad and they should do their best to defuse the looming threat in the living room.

Walter hushed the crew and turned to Harry. “What do you need us to do?”

“I’m going to break the bonds between the strands of magic. So—stand back?” Harry moved toward the board.

“Wait a sec.” Kenna gave Harry her best what-the-hell-are-you-doing look. “You want us to move away, but you’re hanging out with it?”

“Give me a break, Kenna. You know how healer magic works. It’s hands-on or close-proximity magic.”

“What the hell am I going to tell your uncle if you blow yourself up?”

“Who’s his uncle?” Angela asked in a loud whisper.

Kenna looked over her shoulder, but Jack was already answering. “He’s the nephew of one of the IPPC chiefs.”

“Well, shit,” Walter huffed. Pointing at Harry, he looked down his nose and said, “You will not create an international, inter-magical incident.”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry said in a solemn voice, and then winked.

Thank God. That was the Harry Kenna knew—a guy with a completely inappropriate sense of humor with a side of smartass. She inched back toward the far wall. Once everyone was away from the colorful board of doom, she said, “All clear.”

“Sweetheart, you in another room or a few blocks away would be ‘all clear,’ but I’ll be extra careful just for you.” Harry didn’t look her way as he spoke. His eyes didn’t leave the board. He’d also moved discreetly forward so that he was only about a foot away.

How had she missed that? Sneaky turkey.

Kenna watched as Harry went to work. He’d left the sensing ward up, so they could all follow what he was doing.

Harry used his hands, but he never touched the board. At first he used light, feathery touches mere inches from the surface of the board. After what seemed like ages, he stopped and rubbed his jaw.

“Um, Harry?” Kenna figured she’d ask, since no one else was. She ignored the elbow in her ribs delivered by Jack. “It’s not working, is it?”

Harry turned to her and raised one eyebrow. “I’m trying to be cautious. I’ve never reversed the seal on a wound, so I’m experimenting.” He turned back to the colorful lights. Much softer, as if speaking to himself, he said, “I have reset a bone, though.” He cocked his head thoughtfully to one side. With an intent look, he made a quick, sharp hand movement.

A thunderous crack shook the room.

“Oh, shit,” a distant voice echoed through the room.

Kenna felt the vibration in her toes, the pit of her stomach, her jawbone, her eardrums, her back teeth. She peeled her eyelids open once she realized she’d clenched her eyes shut.

“Are you going to puke?” The least romantic words ever spoken by the father of one’s child.

“What are you talking about?” Kenna shook her head, but the quiet buzz in her ears persisted.

Max looked at her right hand, resting protectively over her stomach. He swallowed visibly. “I’m still thinking about it. Figured it wasn’t unlikely, since you’re supposed to have a sensitive stomach now.”

Max did look a little pale.

“I’m fine.” Kenna pulled on her earlobe. “Except for my ears buzzing.”

“Shit.” Walter was looking around the room with a dazed expression. “That’s not your ears.”

Kenna followed his line of sight. “Well, shit. What is that?”

Lights danced through the air, like small fairy lights bobbing in a tree. But they weren’t fairy lights and there were no trees. And they buzzed. Fairy lights didn’t buzz.

“That—” Harry pitched his voice above the buzz. “That is all of the magic our little board contained. And we need to catch it. I think.” His eyes darted to the right as a flash of light burst into a star pattern. “Yes. We should definitely try to catch it. I’m not sure what exactly it might do, running wild like it is.”

Alan’s eyes tracked the moving lights. “How the heck are we doing that?”

“No clue.” Harry’s mouth twitched to the side. “Oops?”

“You might be a menace, Harry.” Kenna shook her head and headed to the kitchen to grab her little cinnamon candle. Over her shoulder she said, “Angela, can you stuff some of this into a rock or something?”

“I can try,” Angela replied as she grabbed a potted plant by one of the windows. “But it’s not earth magic,” she hollered at Kenna’s retreating back.

A few seconds later, Kenna came back with the candle in hand. “Holy shit. Did that plant double in size?”

Angela gave her a bashful look. “I didn’t know it would do that.”

Kenna just shook her head and went to work. She was shepherding magic. The twinkling lights might not be her magic, but apparently that didn’t matter, because Angela had managed to channel it. So Kenna found a little sparkly light close to her candle and nudged. She gasped. “It’s beautiful.” She looked up to find Jack and Max hovering. She smiled broadly. “I’m fine. It’s just so…” She shook her head. She didn’t have words for the feeling the small light had given her.

“Like mountain river water: cold, clean, pure.” Walter shook his head. “But I can’t trap it.”

“Pure. That’s it.” She sounded dazed, but she couldn’t help it with her attention split. Kenna nudged the hovering light again. When it touched her candle, it flared to life, the flame at least four inches high. Her upper body jerked away, but she held firm to the candle.

“Kenna.” Jack was motioning her toward the fireplace her mom used about once every two years. He was piling logs onto the grate.

“Brilliant.” As she started to head toward Jack, an unpleasant thought stopped her. Blinking at the unusually tall flame, she imagined it collapsing in on itself in her mind. While the flame went out briefly, as soon as her attention shifted away from suppressing it, the flame sprang back to life. “Shit.” She wasn’t starting a fire in the fireplace that she couldn’t put out.

Max leaned over her shoulder and blew out the candle. A thin stream of smoke rose from the extinguished wick.

“Hey.” Where’d he come from? “Thanks. Uh, why is Harry trying to arm-wrestle you?”

“It’s called healing. If I can get him to stay still for a second.” Harry pointed to the diminishing lights in the room. “Couldn’t think of a better use for it.”

“Agreed.” Kenna watched as Angela tackled another houseplant. There’d be a jungle in the living room soon. “I think the fireplace is calling. Otherwise we might be overcome by greenery.”

“Just keep it in the fireplace.” Max grimaced as Harry manipulated his arm and shoulder.

“Will do.” Kenna nodded firmly and marched off to tackle the firewood. Inside the fireplace was the plan, but Kenna couldn’t help it if her fire was a little temperamental.

Faced with a pile of wood, Kenna suddenly felt a chill run up her back, and the smell of smoke caught in her throat.

Jack snapped his fingers about two inches from her eye.

Kenna reflexively swatted at his hand. “What the hell?”

“Pull it together.” Jack’s tone was firm but not harsh. “This stuff seems safe enough, but we don’t know. It’s a magical by-product of a previously untried process. If that doesn’t scare you into taking care of business, I’m not sure what would.”

“Are you telling me to hurry up?”

“Yes.” Jack tipped his head in the direction of the stacked wood. “Come on.”

Kenna decided that being annoyed was better than being wrapped up in a memory she wasn’t keen on reliving. “Right.”

Kenna gave one of the twinkly lights a nudge in the direction of the fireplace, and with almost no effort on her part it zipped along and ignited the logs. The very large logs, surrounded by not a scrap of kindling. Eventually she would get over the weirdness of it—but there was no denying it was odd. And that had been way too easy. These small flashes of light weren’t even fire magic, so she had no clue how she was able to use and direct it.

She picked another small light. And another. She stopped when the fire raged and more magic would have made it unsafe in such a small space. She looked around, sweat dripping down her nose, and saw that everyone was looking bright-eyed and refreshed. Harry had given everyone a boost, if she had to guess. And her mom’s plants were frighteningly lush. The living room looked like a greenhouse.

Jack handed her a handkerchief. “You look exhausted.”

Kenna wrinkled her nose. “Just hot.” She mopped at her face and stepped back from the flames to the far side of the room, where it was cooler. “Did we get them all?”

“I think we did.” Harry seemed surprised. “As much as it moved around the room, the magic never strayed far from us.”

“Since I don’t have the skill to store magic, I tried to use some of it. I made about a week’s worth of ice for your mom.” Walter looked perturbed. After a small hesitation, he said, “Some of the magic followed me into the kitchen.”

Angela paused in hefting an overgrown fern. “Forget that. What about the magic itself? The weirdest part, it wasn’t elemental magic, or healer magic, or spell-caster magic. It was magic of no particular flavor or talent type. I thought that only existed in magical wellsprings.” She puffed a stray curl out of her face. “We just created something I thought only existed in nature.”

“On the upside, I think it was relatively harmless. The magic didn’t go anywhere or have any purpose.” Harry sat down on the sofa with his long legs sprawled out in front of him, which was funny because everyone else seemed to be hovering, waiting for something else to happen. Like magic zipping around the room hadn’t been enough. His legs sprawled casually in front of him, Harry asked, “But what exactly is a wellspring?”

“I thought wellsprings held elemental magic.” Kenna was sure the diary had mentioned wellsprings, but maybe she’d assumed the magic was elemental?

Angela collapsed into an armchair. “I’m not sure. I’ve heard the magic is pure—but I’ve certainly never seen a wellspring myself.”

“I have.” Walter lowered himself into the chair next to Angela. “The one I encountered had elemental magic, similar to what we saw today, just as pure, but with a different flavor or texture.” Walter shook his head. “I was young and it was a long time ago. But it was different.”

Alan cleared his throat. He was propped up against the wall. “Since no one else is asking—what would have happened if we hadn’t used it all? Are we sure we did? And—here’s the kicker—I guarantee Gwen’s cell will be bigger. Can we, can Harry, break apart that much magic?”

“And is Harry coming with us?” Jack gave Harry a long look. “Since no one’s bothered to ask.”

A slow grin spread across Harry’s face. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Kenna let loose a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Not only was Harry vital to the success of the plan, he seemed more himself. Reliable. Funny. Relaxed. Whatever had been bothering him must be losing its grip.

“Big boom, guys. What are we doing about the big boom?” Alan turned to Harry. “Glad to have you, but the question does remain. Even if it’s innocuous, we can’t let loose that much magic all at once.”

Harry nodded. “I think I can break apart the bonds in a small area without collapsing the whole. But we’ll have to try it again for me to be sure.”

A chorus of groans greeted his statement. Even Walter moaned.

“Sorry—but we can’t leave that to chance. And I think we should focus on capturing and containing the magic. We all were almost compelled to use the magic. Angela, you can store magic but you still focused on using it.”

The small freckles on Angela’s nose danced as her face reflected her curiosity then dismay. “You’re right. I’d planned to store it, then a plant caught my eye and I just stuffed as much magic as I could into the soil, roots, and leaves. I wouldn’t say I was compelled, by any means, but it was much easier to use it.” She shrugged. “It was just there waiting to be used.”

“Right, then. Our next project for the evening is to create another wall, deconstruct a small hole, and capture the released magic.” Walter ticked off each task on his fingers, as if the completion of each one was a foregone conclusion.

The moment of silence that followed his statement was broken by Jack. “I’ll make coffee.”

Then everyone began chattering at once. Kenna caught snippets of strategy interspersed with words of encouragement. Their plan may yet work. Maybe.

Chapter 20

Kenna’s phone rang, jarring her awake. She grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her head. Mom kidnapped. Lizzie living with a not-quite-dead thing. Both flashed through her brain and she sat up in bed, frantically grabbing for her phone. “Yes?”

“Kenna?”

Harrington’s voice was not what Kenna wanted to hear first thing in the morning.

“Yes.”

“The plan is on track. We’ve completed the last of the testing and updating on the decoy site. Jack informed me you’ve cracked the cell’s construction. I’ll provide Margot with an exceptional, but believable, offer, which we hope ends negotiations today. Your team should be at the airport in three hours ready to fly to the highest-probability location.” Crisp, clear instructions. No chitchat. That was Harrington.

Then the five-second delay in comprehension caught up with her. What the fuck? The highest-probability location—

“Do you understand?” Harrington asked.

“Yes. Three hours, at the airport. Got it.” She hesitated. “Harry’s been a great help. He’s done fabulous work.” Kenna wasn’t sure Harrington would care, but everyone kept telling her Harrington wasn’t such a bad guy.

“I wouldn’t have sent him if I expected anything else. Remember, three hours.” And the jackass hung up.

Kenna was pretty sure it was okay to actively dislike Harrington. Even if he did make her mom’s rescue mission possible.

She rolled all the way out of bed and threw on a robe. Five minutes later, she was heading out to knock on doors when quite suddenly a clearer head prevailed. She stopped and sank down on her bed.

She’d be leaving her room to take a vote: proceed with the plan, or not. Kenna was pretty confident that everyone was on board. The last of their prep had gone well last night. Harry had managed a small hole. And she and Angela had even trapped the magic—a much smaller amount this time—in candle and crystal, respectively. But Harrington’s call this morning had made one thing startlingly clear. There were a lot of unknowns and moving parts in this plan. Her mom’s highest-probability location. The team’s best-guess prison model. The duration that Harrington’s decoy site and embedded virus would remain undetected. Special challenges related to the prison’s location. The list was long, and the more she thought about problems, the more there seemed to be.