Cast into Darkness Page 3

  Her hands trembled as she unbuckled her seat belt. She pulled the keys from the ignition and walked around the car on unsteady legs. The wind did nothing to cool the heat of the noonday sun, and the sweat began to bead on her skin. The car’s front tilted down, the tread on its right tire torn into ragged black pieces. The faint smell of burned rubber rose from the sedan.

  She’s seen the films in Driver’s Ed—she’d been lucky. She could have flipped the car. Kate wiped the sweat from her forehead. She’d never fixed a car before; Dad had mechanics for this stuff.

  She should call him, or Victor.

  No, screw Security. I don’t want Victor’s babysitting. I mean, his escort, and I don’t need him now.

  It was her car—bought and paid for with money she earned in Scene Shop. There had to be one of those jack things in the trunk. How hard could it be?

  A few minutes later, she stood by the road, car jacked up, body drenched in perspiration, and the tire still not off. Time to give up. Changing a tire was a lot tougher than it looked.

  She stomped to the trunk and tossed the tire iron back inside.

  “Turn around, Kate. Hand over the stone, and I’ll let you walk away.”

  She tried to swallow, tried to speak, but she couldn’t get a word past her tight throat. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not to me. Hand shaking, she grabbed the tire iron and concealed it behind her as she spun around.

  Brooke stood by the side of the freeway, a smirk on her fire-engine-red lips. A shiny silver pin fastened to her too-tight gold tank top reflected the sun into Kate’s eyes. Long orange flames—the visible manifestation of a fire spell—flickered around her outstretched hand, leaving her stacks of jangly silver bracelets untouched.

  “You’re a caster?” Kate said. “You’ve gotta be kidding.” And how does she know about the stone?

  “The stone, Kate. Now.”

  “I called my security team when my tire blew out,” Kate bluffed, keeping a tight grip on the tire iron. “They’re on their way. So I’d leave if I were you.”

  “Oh, what a load of crap. I blocked your cell. No one’s riding to your rescue. And none of these so-called concerned motorists will help, either.” Brooke jerked her head at the cars going by. “They can’t see through the illusion spell I cast.”

  “You’re not supposed to attack me. I don’t work for my father. Didn’t anybody tell you I’m not a caster?”

  “I know what you are.” Brooke played with the fireball in her hand, tossing the ethereal sphere of flame up and down. “Maybe you should have remembered that you’re just a supporting player before you tried out for the lead. I’m the real thing. I’m a star.”

  I should have let Brooke tumble over that balcony last night when I’d had the chance.

  Kate edged behind the car. Brooke flicked out her hand. A blast of flame hit the roof of the sedan, inches from Kate’s face. A slug of metal shot off and spun past her head, close enough that the heat of the burning steel sent her stomach lurching.

  “Stop the bullshit, and give me the stone. I’m done playing nice.”

  “Fine. Fine.” With the tire iron still behind her back, Kate reached into her pocket. As she pulled out the stone, Brooke’s eyes softened. Her flaming hand relaxed a little.

  Now.

  Kate threw the tire iron, a hard overhand pitch aimed straight at Brooke’s head, then dove to the ground.

  Brooke screamed as the metal smacked into her with a loud crack against bone. Kate squirmed under the car, desperate for whatever small cover it could provide. Gravel dug into her bare knees, and her shirt tore on the underside of the chassis. Pain burst through her head when she hit it on the engine block.

  She jerked her phone out of her pocket, scraping her hand on the rough ground. Her finger stabbed at the emergency button. If she’d knocked Brooke out with that throw, or at least distracted her enough, her illusion spell might have broken down.

  C’mon, c’mon. Victor—if I’ve ever needed you, it’s now.

  “I don’t care what the boss said,” Brooke yelled. “I’m going to make you pay for that, bitch.”

  So much for knocking her out.

  Kate sneaked a look from the scant cover of the car. Brooke ran for her, one arm limp at her side. She shot her good hand out and flames poured from it—aimed straight at Kate.

  Flinching at the oncoming heat, Kate scrambled farther under the car. Fire roared around her, the heat intense. Her heart pounded in her ears. I’m going to die, and all because of this stupid stone. Then the flames stopped, a few inches short of her, as if they hit a wall of air.

  She let out her breath in a whoosh of relief. The fire licked at the barrier of wavy air surrounding her, eager to find a way in and burn her to ashes. Kate felt no heat from the flames, no scorching, nothing at all. After a moment of futile flickering, they winked out.

  A shield spell. Thank God, thank—But who cast it?

  Kate peeked out from under the car. Brooke stared back, her face wrinkled, about to speak. The air behind her rippled like the exhaust from a jet engine. Then her head snapped forward as an invisible force hit her from behind. Her eyes went glassy. She dropped hard onto the shoulder of the road, as disabled as Kate’s car.

  “One down. Anybody else?” Victor Cole, her father’s go-to security guy, came striding toward the car, wind whipping through his short, sandy hair, the sun illuminating the sharp planes of his face. He walked with the jaunty confidence of one of her father’s senior casters, despite being young enough to be one of Kate’s college classmates. A black T-shirt stretched across his chest, and he wore tight jeans topped with black leather boots, completing his look—spartan with a sexy chaser that, despite Kate’s best efforts, always made her breath catch. Now was no exception.

  “You got my call. Hallelujah.” Kate crawled out from under the car, her pulse slowing back to normal. She’d torn her favorite shirt and oil blotched the blue fabric.

  “What call?” Victor’s sharp stare probed the roadside, searching for more enemies. Finding none, he turned his gaze on Kate, and along with it, that perpetual “I’m not much older but I’m oh-so-much wiser than you” sneer.

  Giving Victor a sideways glance, she slipped the stone in her back pocket.

  “You didn’t phone for help. You didn’t tell me you needed an escort home, either. But I got lucky. When Sparkles here set off her spells, I detected them. She didn’t even manage to cloak them. Pretty amateur on her part.”

  “You were monitoring me?”

  “I always do.”

  She felt her face redden. “You had no right—”

  “Monitoring’s for your own good. As you can tell.”

  “Why was I happy to see you again?”

  “Because I saved your life, princess. Of course, I’m just doing my job.” Victor stepped over to Brooke, bending down to check her pulse. “Out cold.” He picked up the tire iron and turned to Kate, a question in his eyes.

  “I can take care of myself. I was doing fine when you got here.”

  “Uh-huh. I wouldn’t call almost being crispy-fried fine. You okay? You look a little beaten up.”

  Her head throbbed. She brushed the gravel off her knees. “Nothing serious.”

  A few cars slowed, their drivers peering at Kate and Victor. He glanced at the traffic and traced something that looked like a super complicated figure eight in the air, followed by a quick chant, his words barely audible above the roar of the highway. The cars sped up, their drivers’ eyes back on the road. Victor stiffened, fists clenched, as the backlash from the spell coursed through him. Kate knew better than to talk to him while he dealt with the dark, paranoid thoughts racing through his mind.

  After a moment, Victor gestured at Brooke. “So, anyone you know?”

  “She’s a student at Cornell.”

  “Tell me what happened. Everything.”

  “My tire blew out, then she showed up. She muttered some vague threats. I threw the tire iron at her, then you app
eared.”

  “Did she say what she wanted?”

  Kate hesitated. She’d promised Brian she wouldn’t tell anyone about the stone.

  She shrugged. “You’re the security guy, you figure it out.”

  Victor frowned. “Later. Right now I have to get you out of here. The situation’s not secure.”

  Kate glanced at the unconscious Brooke. “Looks pretty secure to me.”

  “Not your place to say. She may have backup.”

  “You know, if it wasn’t for Dad and his quest to control the world, I wouldn’t need your help. Why can’t you let me have my own life?”

  “That’s impossible.” Victor stalked to the rear of the car, Kate following. “You’re part of the family—” he opened the trunk, muttering “—whether some of us like it or not. That’s not going to change. All that privilege comes with some danger, princess, but that’s why I monitor you.”

  He tossed the tire iron in the back of the car and slammed the trunk closed. “Look, why don’t you take this up with your dad? There really isn’t anything I can—What the hell?” Victor’s gaze darted past Kate to where Brooke lay.

  Kate whirled around. A vague shimmer, like heat rising from an asphalt road, enveloped Brooke. A flash of light brightened the sky, then the blonde began to fade from sight as Kate watched.

  Victor pushed past Kate. He raised an arm toward Brooke, a spell forming on his lips. Before he could complete it, Brooke vanished.

  “Damn.” Victor turned toward Kate, his face red. “If you hadn’t distracted me I would have put up a teleport block before her allies got her out. Probably used a talisman to do it remotely. Now I can’t interrogate her, find out who she works for.”

  Kate stomped to the driver’s side and pulled hard at the car door. Locked. Dammit. She swept the keys up from the side of the road.

  “I’m sick of you blaming me for your screwups. I’m driving to the house. Don’t follow me. Don’t talk to me. Leave me alone.” She jammed the key in the lock so hard she scraped the paint.

  Victor grabbed her arm before she could yank on the handle.

  “Let go of me.”

  He let go. “Your tire’s blown—”

  “I’ll fix it myself.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ve been attacked and might be again. I’m taking you to your dad.”

  “I don’t want to see him.”

  “He’ll want to see you, make sure you’re okay. You know your dad. He always gets what he wants.”

  Kate stood, silent. Cars zoomed by, their drivers going about their business without worrying about being attacked by fire-wielding bimbos or hijacked on their fathers’ whims. She wondered what it would be like to be one of those people.

  “I’ll deal with your car,” Victor said, then continued under his breath, “I’ll bet I can find a junkyard that will take it.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Kate spun to face him, her mouth tight.

  “Fine. I’ll have my guys fix it and drive it to the house. Happy now? Can we go?”

  Victor leaned against the car and waited, only a hint of smirk on his face. He would knock her on the head and carry her to her father if that’s what it took.

  “The office, right? Like he’d be anywhere else.” She grabbed Victor’s arm, bracing herself for the teleport spell. Teleporting always gave her a headache.

  As they faded out of existence on the I-88 and materialized in an elegant office building on K Street in Washington, DC, she thought about the stone. She’d promised Brian she wouldn’t mention anything to Dad. But how was she going to keep the stone hidden from a man who knew everyone’s secrets?

  Chapter Four

  Kristof considered the girl lying unconscious on the deck behind the two-story colonial he’d “borrowed” to run his operation. His failed operation. He’d seen everything, thanks to the monitor talisman he’d given Brooke.

  The talisman—a small, silver raven—was still pinned to her blouse. It was the same one he’d used to bring her back, after Victor Cole blew his op to hell. Using a rogue like Brooke to get the stone for him without his father knowing hadn’t exactly worked out as planned.

  Brooke moaned, and one leg twitched against the redwood deck. Kristof leaned back against the lounger, waiting for her to wake, his jaw clenched as he tapped his hand against the plastic side table. He pulled off his mirrored sunglasses and checked his disguise spell—sandy hair, square jaw, permanent sneer. Should be perfect.

  Kristof ran his fingers over the messenger bag on the table next to him. What was he going to do with Brooke? He needed a new plan to get the stone now that the Hamiltons were alerted. That plan would still require a cutout—someone who could keep some distance between him and the stone and prevent his father from realizing who would ultimately end up with the powerful little trinket. He needed a rogue, an outcast with no family affiliation. But rogues, especially ones with any control over their powers, weren’t exactly standing on the street corner, looking to be hired.

  If I could do the job myself… Well, it would be different.

  Who he’d ended up with wasn’t exactly the shiniest charm in the spellbook. Brooke had blown this job—failing to get the stone, disobeying his order not to hurt Kate—and she might screw up the next one.

  His father knew how to deal with rogues who had “outlived their usefulness.” Standard operating procedure in the Makris family involved a quick kinetic blast to the back of the head, then dumping the body somewhere remote. Killing her would eliminate a potential liability.

  After what Brooke tried to do to Kate, he felt tempted.

  Watching through the monitor spell, he’d seen Brooke send a blast of fire against Kate, huddled under her car, nothing between her and the scorching heat. He’d jerked to his feet and traced out a teleport spell, the blood in his veins turning ice cold, knowing he was too late. He would never arrive in time to save her.

  The relief that surged over him when Victor appeared, sending his shield around Kate, blocking the fire rushing at her, had left him shaking with its intensity.

  He couldn’t believe this mission had become important to him. He wanted the stone, yes, but… Kate was just another assignment.

  Shoving the thought aside, he focused on the objective. Get the stone. But with it protected by Hamilton security, success would not be easy. A hundred possibilities flashed through his mind until he settled on one—the only plan with a chance of working.

  The girl on the deck stirred, her bangles jingling as she moved. “Wha…what?”

  “Wake up,” he said. “We have to talk.”

  Her eyes opened, then widened. “Oh shit. I—”

  “Yes, you blew it. You didn’t get the stone from Kate. Know what else?”

  “Um…what? I don’t get paid?” She sat up, her head in her hands.

  “Least of your problems. You disobeyed orders. What part of ‘don’t hurt her’ didn’t you understand?”

  She rubbed her arm and glared. “Um, the part where she threw a goddamn tire iron at me? Like, I didn’t sign up for the rough stuff. Just the magic part. Bitch got what she deserved.”

  Kristof’s jaw tightened. “I told you where to find the stone.” The spell he’d planted on it last night showed him its location—any time he risked checking. “You were supposed to get it and get out, fast. Without hurting Kate. You failed. I told you to cloak your spells. All of them. You didn’t, and our enemies found you and took you out. So what should I do with you?”

  Her lips trembled. “C’mon. Give me another chance. I’ve done a good job watching her for you, haven’t I? You said if I did okay I’d have a chance to join the family. Stop being a rogue. Have some security.” She got to her feet and sidled up to him, perching on the arm of the lounger and leaning over until the deep vee of her shirt exposed her decidedly non-magical charms. When she was close enough to whisper in his ear, she said, “I can make it worth your while.”

  That was a complication he didn’t need. As he trie
d to put his body’s treacherous reaction to her nearness out of his mind, he ran through his options one last time. There was only one choice he could make.

  He rose to his feet and picked up the messenger bag, handing it to Brooke.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “A new identity. Passport. ID. A clean cell phone. Expense money. Everything you’ll need for where you’re going.”

  A sly smile lit her face. “Paris? London?”

  “No. Boca del Infierno, a small village in Argentina. I put photo references inside for your teleport. Study them, then go. Now. From here. No going back home to pack.” Argentina was de la Vega territory, but they stayed in the cities. No chance of her running into them in the ass crack of beyond.

  Her face scrunched up, as if she were trying not to cry. “But that’s in the middle of nowhere. They probably don’t even have a Bloomingdale’s. And I don’t speak Argentese.”

  “You’ll live.” If I wasn’t certain I’ll need you again, you’d already be dead. “Follow my orders if you want to work for me again. Stay there until I contact you. I don’t want to hear from you, see you, or run into you anywhere. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I get it.” She paused. “You know what I don’t get?”

  “What?”

  “If you want this stone so bad, why didn’t you ask her for it yourself? Wouldn’t she have given the stone over to you, Victor?”

  Kristof, wearing the sandy hair and perpetual smirk of Hamilton security caster Victor Cole, smiled. “Nothing is that simple with the families. Why don’t you think about that while you’re vacationing in South America? If you figure it out, maybe you’ll know enough about how the Game works to stop being a rogue and really play.”

  Of course, if she does, I’ll have to use my father’s methods after all.

  Kristof’s phone buzzed. He glanced at Brooke, who was busy scrutinizing the photos of the teleport coordinates, then back down at his cell. Another urgent text from his father.

  Report in.

  Kristof risked making him suspicious if he delayed much longer.