Cast into Darkness Page 5

Before the spell took hold of them, she slid her hand into her pocket and felt the stone, cold and smooth. The sensation vanished for a moment as the rotunda disappeared around them and the foyer of her family’s house in the Hamptons appeared in its place.

  Home.

  Chapter Five

  Kate let go of Victor’s arm and stepped off the incoming teleport pattern in front of the big curved staircase. Interwoven stripes of black and white in the marbled floor served as the marker. Across the foyer, fresh flowers topped the Queen Anne console table. Marigolds and red carnations caught the rays of the noontime sun streaming in from the picture window.

  “I’ve got work to do. Try not to cause any more international incidents.” Victor shot her a snarky look before walking down the walnut-lined hall. He headed toward the security office, boot heels ringing on the floor.

  She pressed her lips together. Don’t react. The last thing she needed was more of Victor. She had her own agenda: find Brian and give him back his stupid stone. Oh, and get rid of her resurgent, post-teleport headache.

  Kate ran up the stairs to Brian’s room—the last one on the left, past hers. The door hung partly open, but no backpack lay on the hardwood floor, no broken-in leather jacket slung across his old captain’s chair. The just-made perfection of the white linens on his untouched bed further proved that he hadn’t been by yet. She tried the game room next, its billiards table covered, Xbox silent in the corner. Then she checked the kitchen, bustling with staff preparing lunch. She even braved her father’s den, its old brick fireplace banked for the summer. Nothing.

  She stomped across the big corridor leading from the den to the family room and jerked open the bifold glass doors to the pool area. The blast of heat that greeted her wilted her hair and made sweat spring to her skin. Oh yes, summer in the Hamptons.

  A few of the caster kids, most of them a year or two younger than Kate, hung out at the pool, their laughter mingling with the scents of chlorine and tanning lotion. Classes at the family’s caster training school—the one she’d attended until she’d turned twelve, failed her magic test, and been consigned to eternal Nulldom—must have gotten out early. She scanned the crowd. No Brian.

  “Great,” Kate muttered. “Just great.”

  She stared past the pool at the long, brown two-story building framed by two tall oaks, slightly to the right of the tennis court. The Sanctum—training ground, center for the caster school, and general hangout for casters at her family’s estate. Clever that it looked like a stable or oversized gym from the outside—except for the lack of windows and the single, large, locked door. Not that Victor’s security spells let Normals see anything her father didn’t want them to see.

  The Sanctum was the one place she pretended didn’t exist, the place that made her stomach do a little flip-flop every time her eyes passed by it. The one place she never, ever went. Not anymore. If Brian practiced magic in the Sanctum, he might as well be light-years away.

  Her hand brushed her pocket, the stone a heavy lump. Sure, she could read a book or go swimming, but the problem of the stone would keep preying on her mind. Until she found Brian and gave the damn thing back.

  She squared her shoulders and set off across the lawn, the Sanctum in her sights.

  Kate dodged a grubby boy, maybe ten or eleven years old, barreling out from around the corner of the house. His dark head turned to watch the girl chasing him. “You missed me!”

  “No, I didn’t. Got you, you dirty Null!” A little girl in red shorts, a pink T-shirt, and white tennis shoes sped after him, a slim hand outstretched toward her quarry, pretending to throw a spell.

  “Whatever! I get to be the Hamilton agent this time. You have to play the Makris.” They ran past Kate and toward the hill leading to the beach with barely a glance at her.

  Students from one of the Affiliate families that owed allegiance to hers. The boy was a Torres, one of Alex’s cousins. The girl, a Hashimoto.

  The younger kids always scurried underfoot like that—playing Caster Wars in the woods or down by the beach when they weren’t in school. A tight smile crossed Kate’s face. That game never changed.

  She rounded a large clump of trees and reached the lawn that extended about twenty feet in front of the Sanctum. The breeze from the ocean blew salty air through the trees, cooling the sweat on her skin.

  When she got closer to the Sanctum, she could see that the square, white “In Use” sign hung on the door. She knew better than to go up and knock. No one interrupted training. Ever.

  Better wait for Brian someplace safe. Her stomach tightened as she turned the corner of the rough, stone building and wandered into the tree-lined plaza beyond. A few tables sat scattered over the lawn, one piled high with the backpacks casters usually took on missions, their owners nowhere in sight. Kate leaned against the Sanctum’s outer wall, head resting on its wooden trim, warm from the sun.

  No point in thinking too much about the last time she had been inside the Sanctum, how she’d stood in its center, six years ago. How her father, mother, and her uncle Grayson, his hair still solid black, had watched from outside the ring of glowing circle stones, the light of their protection shimmering toward the ceiling. They’d watched as she failed all three magic tests, the stones winking out, leaving her in darkness. She remembered how her father had turned away from her, back stiff, her mother’s attention on her father’s bent head, not on Kate and her tears.

  “What’s that smell? A pig?” Kate started at Missy Hashimoto’s shrill voice. Missy was one of Brian’s classmates—a caster. She floated in the air above Kate, her high-pitched giggle wafting down from tight, smirking lips. Her fingers stroked a shining silver talisman perched on her red leather jacket, activating the spell that kept her hovering.

  “No, silly—pig shit. Can’t you tell?” Her brother Gordon floated next to her, arms crossed, a sneer across his handsome face.

  “Wait, we were both wrong,” Missy giggled. “It’s a Null. But who could tell the difference?”

  “Missy, stop it.” Kate’s cousin, Hayley. Blond ponytail bobbing as she hovered in the air, fingers busy casting. “Leave Kate alone.”

  Missy shot Hayley an oh-so-sincere look of contrition. “Oh, that’s right. Shouldn’t be mean to the boss’s daughter. Might get in trouble.”

  Kate’s face burned. “I was just… I’m looking for Brian.”

  Missy jerked her head from one side to the other, her eyes wide and an ultra-fake smile painted on her face. “I don’t see him? Do you?” She gaped at Gordon.

  “Maybe he’s in the Sanctum.” Gordon’s handsome face twisted in a cruel smile. “Why don’t you go inside and find out?”

  “I can’t. You know that.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing out here in caster country?” He sneered.

  “I—”

  Missy laughed. “You come here, snooping around, looking to learn our secrets? Checking up on us for your dad? Maybe we should teach you a lesson.” She raised her hand, and her body got all tense, her eyes narrow and sharp.

  Oh shit. She’s going to cast.

  Gordon muttered a quick chant and slashed his hand in a figure eight.

  Chunks of concrete blew from the pavement at Kate’s feet, carving a hole in the ground. Kate screamed and jumped back, her whole body shaking.

  “You can’t cast at Kate! She’s off-limits! What the hell are you doing?” Hayley yelled.

  “Open the door. Now.” Gordon’s voice sent ice shooting down her back.

  Over the crackle of the fire spell that had sprung to Missy’s hand and Hayley’s protests, Kate wondered if anyone would hear her if she screamed for help. And what would really happen if she opened the door. Would she look like a stupid, Null idiot who didn’t know her place to the people inside, or would she get sucked into some kind of other-dimensional hellhole? She didn’t want to find out.

  “No.” She faced the three casters hovering above her. “Go to hell.”

  Gordon’s face
went dark. His fingers slashed and jabbed through the air too fast for her to follow. Even a Null like her could feel the spell forming around his hands—something black and writhing and filled with screams.

  She froze, mouth gone bone dry. Shit, he’s really going to—

  “Look out!”

  Brian’s yell shocked Kate more than the impact of his body as he threw himself on top of her. A roar like a freight train sounded as Gordon’s spell rushed past her head, so close her ears rang with the near miss. They hit the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of Kate and jarring her still-sore head. Gordon’s spell slammed into the Sanctum door and evaporated with a swoosh.

  Brian rolled to his feet, chanting. Everything around Kate took on a wavy look, as the world might appear from the inside a glass bottle. A shield spell, just like under the car.

  Missy squinted. She thrust her arms out and fire formed around them—finally, a spell Kate could see. Missy threw the flaming sphere straight at Brian. It hit his shield and disappeared. Brian grinned.

  “That’s enough of that.” It was her uncle Grayson’s voice, accompanied by his firm footsteps on the concrete walkway. One slash of his hand and all three—Missy, Gordon, and Hayley—fell from the sky like birds whose wings had been clipped. Another wave pinned Missy’s and Gordon’s struggling forms to the ground. Grayson seemed to be able to hold Hayley with just his glare. She cringed under the heat of his anger.

  “Are you okay? What in the hell are you doing here?” Brian asked as he helped Kate up. She couldn’t find a trace of the beaten-up Brian from last night. Instead, his usual “No Hair Product Left Behind” look was back. He could have posed for a magazine cover in his perfect polo with the collar turned up, cocky stance, and just-ironed khakis.

  “I’m looking for you,” Kate said. “Don’t know how I could have forgotten how unwelcoming a twitchy caster could be.”

  “Yeah, well…you know how it is.”

  Did she ever.

  Brian glanced at Grayson, still chastising Missy, Gordon, and Hayley a few yards away, then turned his attention back to Kate. “Do you still have it?” he whispered, eyes narrow.

  “Do you know how much trouble—” she hissed.

  “Not now. Meet me tonight. At nine. Our old place. Remember?”

  The catalpa grove, at the edge of the estate. She nodded.

  “Not a word to anyone about it.”

  “Grayson should know,” she whispered, with a sideways look at her uncle. “He’s the expert—”

  “No. No one.”

  Grayson gave Missy and Gordon a final glare before he sent them on their way. Kate had been too busy whispering with Brian to hear what punishment Grayson had given them, but judging from the glower Missy shot her, it must have been a doozy. She’d better watch her back.

  Hayley ran over, breathless. “Kate,” she squealed, throwing her arms around her cousin. “You’re home. Sorry about those guys. They can be real jerks after a mission.”

  “Yeah, right.” Paranoia backlash might be a pain in the butt, but it got used as an excuse for all-around bad behavior way too often. Especially when the victim was a Null.

  Grayson frowned at Hayley. “And what do you think you’re doing, hanging around with casters back from a mission? You should be in class, young lady—if you expect to graduate this year and join those hooligans on a mission.” Grayson pointed to the caster classroom, filled with students Hayley’s age, a good distance across the lawn.

  “I know, Dad, but—”

  “No buts. Good thing for you the lunch bell is about to ring.”

  “I was helping Kate, defending her…” Hayley sighed.

  Grayson waved Hayley’s excuses away and gave Kate’s ripped shirt a puzzled look. “Are you sure Gordon missed you?”

  “That’s from…earlier.” She glanced at Brian. “I’m fine.”

  Grayson pulled her close, and tension fled her as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Welcome home, sweetheart. Sorry I missed your play.” He smelled like old books and pine trees and long nights telling stories by the fire. His black hair was streaked with gray at the temples—more than the last time she’d seen him, months ago. “Got called away last night.” He let her go. “You know how it is.”

  Brian cleared his throat. “I’m starving. Lunch, anybody?”

  Kate sighed. “Sure.”

  “Great idea,” Grayson said. “There are sandwiches inside the Sanctum. Hayley, can you bring a tray to my office before the students finish them off?”

  Hayley nodded and ran off. Grayson took Kate’s arm and they walked toward his office, around the back of the Sanctum. Brian followed.

  The spacious room, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, faced the ocean. Kate hadn’t been in Grayson’s office for years. The bookcases lining the walls still groaned under the weight of her uncle’s books, tome after tome of old, decaying paper bound in leather studded with gems so rare she wasn’t sure exactly what they were. Stacked beside those were scrolls thick with illegible writing, some so ancient they looked as though they would dissolve if she touched them.

  His desk still held piles of papers and pictures of the family, a sleek wide-screen monitor replacing the old CRT. Disassembled talismans, hunks of amber, a soldering iron, and a few spare lodestones covered his old metal workbench. Stacks of magazines sat on the floor—The Journal of Applied Thaumatology next to Field and Stream.

  Grayson sank into his favorite leather chair while Brian dug in the refrigerator for sodas. Brian handed her one. Kate sat on the tweed sofa and let the air-conditioning blow across her overheated face. As she ran the cold can of the diet cola across her forehead, she wondered what felt so off to her about Grayson’s office. Something had changed since she’d been here last.

  Then she spotted it.

  “You’ve organized,” she said.

  Grayson took a long drink of his soda.

  Everything lay in crisp, neat stacks, from the books, to the scrolls, to the piles of silver ingots. It seemed nothing like the barely controlled chaos of the Grayson she knew and loved—books everywhere, papers mixed in with talismans, notes pinned over each other on his wall map of artifact finds, magazines scattered across the floor. Somehow, he’d always known how to find everything.

  “Hayley got the ladies in to straighten up. They finished before I even knew about it.” Grayson shrugged. “Easier to keep it this way.” His smile showed a hint of strain.

  Maybe the housekeepers really had rearranged. Or maybe Grayson had started worrying that people were after his stuff, and he could keep an eye on it better if he knew where everything lived. All the time.

  She tried to catch Brian’s eye, but he avoided her gaze. He’d mentioned a few weeks ago that Grayson was now on risperidone—the family’s standard starter med for paranoia. Just a precaution, Brian had said, given their uncle’s age. Was that why Brian didn’t want her to talk to Grayson about the stone?

  Hayley skipped in, a tray of sandwiches in her hands. “Okay, who wants tuna salad?”

  Lunch passed quickly amid the crunch of potato chips, fizz of sodas, and inconsequential small talk. Hayley talked about how busy she’d be when she attended Harvard next fall. Grayson mentioned a quick trip he’d planned to Japan tomorrow for the horse festival. And Brian thought he’d take the sailboat out next weekend—did Kate want to come? But Kate found what they didn’t say more intriguing: no talk of work, of casting, or of family politics. There couldn’t be any lack of it to discuss.

  Brian ignored her little hints that they talk outside. Ignored every attempt she made to get him to talk about his current mission. She tapped her foot on Grayson’s hard stone floor.

  And she noticed something else. Brian avoided talking to Grayson. Oh, he answered Grayson’s questions, nodded when he spoke, but her brother didn’t really talk to their uncle. Not like he used to.

  When the only things left on the tray were broken chips and bread crumbs, Brian got up to leave. Hayley followed, grabb
ing the tray.

  Kate rose as well. Maybe now she’d get a chance to talk to her brother alone.

  “Brian, stay a minute. There’s something I want to speak to you about,” Grayson said.

  “Sure.” Brian glanced at Kate and Hayley. “Why don’t you two go ahead? We’ll catch up more later.”

  Kate trailed out after Hayley, her eyes on Brian, jaw clenched. He’d talk to her later. Sure he would. He drops this stupid stone off with her, doesn’t care that it does something to her in the dressing room for a half hour, isn’t interested in hearing how that bitch Brooke tried to kill her over it, and won’t talk to her long enough to take it off her hands. What was he waiting for, a Delacroix assault team to blow down the front gate looking for the stone?

  She huffed past Hayley, around the corner of the Sanctum, and across the lawn. Screw Brian. Maybe she should take this stupid stone and throw it in the ocean. See how he liked that.

  “Kate. Kate!” Hayley jogged after her.

  “What?” Kate kept storming along.

  “What’s got you so worked up?”

  Kate slowed down. “Oh…nothing. Just stuff with Brian. It’s nothing important.”

  “Maybe I can help.” An earnest smile lit Hayley’s face.

  Kate sighed. “You can’t. Don’t worry about it.” But maybe Hayley could help with something else. She stopped. “Hayley, is Grayson all right? Brian said he started on medication. And his office, it’s different. Have you noticed anything? Is he getting…”

  The smile vanished. “He’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

  “Hayley…”

  “No, really. There’s nothing wrong. The doctors did the whole exam thing. They say he’s got years. Definitely.”

  Kate remembered what the doctors had said about her mother. They were never that certain. They always said, “they couldn’t tell,” and “maybe, with the right medications,” and “she could go quickly or she could take a long time.”

  As it turned out, with her mother, the end came like a lightning bolt. One day, a little over two years ago, her mother had seemed as vibrant and sharp as ever. The next, she’d run through every room in the house, smashing all the mirrors until her hands were cut and bleeding, screaming that the ancient casters were trying to reach through and control them all. When Kate had returned from school that day, her mother had run to meet her at the door, her eyes wild, her fingers clutching at Kate’s sweater. Victor had grabbed a sobbing Kate, taken her to the family’s San Francisco house, and hadn’t let her anywhere near her mother again. No matter how much she’d begged.