15
Iblink and stare at her. She’s older, of course, but there’s no mistaking her features. Clear blue eyes, red hair, and high cheekbones. It’s Rachel. The missing girl who ran away when she was seventeen.
What the hell is she doing on my porch?
“Rachel,” I start, and hold out my hands, showing her I have no weapons. “That’s your name, isn’t it? You’re Rachel Warren.”
The hardness of her expression softens for a moment and she lowers her hand. Her eyes meet mine, and I recognize the loneliness, the desperation.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, and edge forward.
The driver’s side door to the SUV opens and an older man steps out. “It’s time to get back into the car,” he tells Rachel.
“No,” I say, and whirl around to look at him. Nick rushes over, still not sure what’s going on, and puts himself between me and the man who’d introduced himself as Charles a few days ago. “What is she doing with you?” I turn back toward the woman. “Rachel, it’s okay,” I tell her again. “My name is Ace and I’m like you.”
She drops her hand and her lips part. “Like me?”
“Rachel, now,” Charles says sternly.
“Don’t boss her around,” I spit, mind whirling. Did I get my theory all wrong? Or…no…it doesn’t make sense. It can’t make sense. “You don’t have to go anywhere with him,” I tell Rachel. “I’m like you, but I’m also a cop. I can help you. We know you’ve been missing for a year.”
“I’m not missing,” she says softly. “I’m right here.” She looks so confused, almost as if she’s not sure what’s actually going on. She wiggles her fingers and blue electricity starts to spark around her hand. I swallow hard.
“I know you’re here.” I take another slow step forward. The demon killed her parents, I’m sure of it. The crime scene was almost identical to my parents’. Fake break-in with nothing missing. Bodies roughed up just enough to make it look like that’s how they died, but in reality, all wounds were inflicted after their hearts had been frozen.
The demon wanted the children…so why is she with Charles, who works for Mr. Trent? My stomach tightens. I knew that fucker was hiding something big.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and Rachel looks at Mr. Trent. It’s a subconscious move we often see with abused women. They look at their abuser for permission to speak, even when they’re asked a direct and even personal question.
“We were looking for you,” Charles answers for her. “And now you’re here.”
“Yeah, no shit. So what the fuck do you want?” I bark, getting pissed because I’m certain Rachel is here against her will. That Mr. Trent is controlling the demon or feeding him names or something…and he’s come to collect.
Not just the runes. But me as well.
Charles narrows his eyes, looks at Rachel, and gives her a curt nod. She holds up both her hands, closes her eyes, and starts chanting. The blue energy around her fingers starts to spark, and suddenly, both Nick and I are being forced to the ground by invisible hands.
The weight is too much, and if I resist it, it’s going to break every bone in my body. I fall to my knees, fighting to hold my head up. Rachel’s body is rigid, eyes still closed as she chants the same thing over and over. She’s speaking in Latin, and I have no idea what she’s saying.
“Ace!” Nick yells, struggling to keep from collapsing. “What’s happening?”
“She’s casting a spell,” I say, each breath harder and harder to take. “Rachel,” I pant. “Stop!”
But she doesn’t, and soon my knees buckle and I fall to the ground, gravel biting into the flesh on my arms. The invisible weight pushes down harder, and out of the corner of my eye I see Charles walking over. He pulls something out of his pocket, and I know exactly what he’s holding without having to see it. The sound of handcuffs is familiar to me.
He steps over me, and I force myself forward, only able to pathetically slither on the ground. My face hits the driveway, and gravel cuts my cheek.
“Hey, bitch!” Gemma shouts, breaking Rachel’s concentration. The spell wavers, and I spring to my feet. Gemma throws a bowl full of salt and herbs at Rachel, putting a temporary block on her ability to do magic. I reach down and pull Nick to his feet.
“Hurry!” Gemma yells, stepping back into the house. She’s holding my book in one hand and extends the other. Turning back to the book, she starts chanting, fumbling over the pronunciation of the Latin words.
Not letting go of Nick’s hand, I race forward, going around Rachel, and get into the house. I skid to a stop next to Gemma and look down at the book. “Strigae invoco ante. Servare huic domui. Malum transiens,” I say along with her and extend my hand.
“Go after them!” Charles demands. Rachel stands, brushing the enchanted salt off her shirt, and charges up the stairs.
“Shut the door!” Nick yells, but the door won’t stop her.
“Strigae invoco ante. Servare huic domui. Malum transiens,” Gemma and I say again as Rachel bounds up the porch steps. A wall of magical energy stops her, and she smacks into it, bouncing back and falling to the ground. My stomach clenches. I don’t want to hurt the girl but don’t see another choice.
