The Shoppe of Spells (24 page)

She screamed. “No!” Then more softly, “Please.”

“Okay, okay.” He eased the light up her arm. “Jas, I can get this off you, but it’s going to hurt.”

He shone the flashlight across the floor, saw a piece of material, probably the rest of her blouse, grabbed it and gently forced it between her wrist and the chain and lock. He knelt down beside her and took hold of the lock. Concentrating, he pictured the lock and let his current flow.

Jasmine moaned. The lock opened. He pulled it away from the chain and eased her arm down. She groaned. Her hand was like ice. There was no telling how long she’d been hanging here.

“I’m going to carry you out.”

She nodded slightly, tried to move the damaged arm and sucked in her breath.

Dorian felt her shoulder. “Jas, your arm’s dislocated. I’m going to try to put it back in, okay.”

She looked away. He put his knee under her armpit to give him leverage, let a small amount of current flow to warm up the joint and pulled. He felt it snap back. When she didn’t say anything, he looked down. She’d passed out. It was just as well.

He shoved the flaring flashlight into his back pocket and lifted her as gently as he could. She felt so thin. He could barely see for the anger. That son of a bitch was dead.

Alert to the slightest movement, Dorian made his way back to the truck carrying his abused friend. He had no doubt he could end the man’s life with a look right now, but he didn’t want to chance hurting Jasmine any more than she already was. Her struggles warned Dorian that Jasmine was coming to in a panic.

“Jas…it’s me…Dorian. I have to get you to the truck. Hang on, sweet.”

She stopped struggling.

“I’m going to set you down so I can get the door open. I’ll put you in the back. There’s a blanket, okay?”

When he leaned forward to set her down, his shirt slipped away. Her breast was bruised and swollen; a large bluish mark was forming around her side. Blood marked her abdomen and down her legs. Bruises and bite marks were interspersed with blood. She hung her head.

“It’s okay. I’ll get him,” he promised.

Her once beautiful face was swollen into a misshapen orb, her brown cat eyes purple and swollen into slits. Dried blood was smeared across her cheeks and matted her hair. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. His heart sank at her broken spirit.

Dorian got her settled, gave her a little water, and dialed 9-1-1. He gave the coordinates and called John.

His voice cracked when he spoke. Not wanting her to hear him, he walked away from the vehicle. “John. I found Jasmine. She was in the mine. The son of a bitch beat the shit out of her. I think he raped her. I’ve called 9-1-1. We’re going to need Jenn on this; she knows what to do.”

“Morgan?”

“Nothing. She’s not here.”

“We’re almost to the cabin; Jenn wanted to check something. I’ll call Bask. He can get her there faster. Let me know where they’re taking her.”

“Dory…”

He barely heard the hoarse whisper of his name. He ran back to the car.

“Rob…he’s gone…after…Morgan.” Tears trailed down her cheeks.

She jumped when his palm slammed the side of the truck. “Sorry, Jas. I think he must have her. She’s gone.”

“Noooo...” It came out as a long, low moan.

“I’ll find him. I promise I’ll find him.”

He heard the sirens in the distance. He turned on his flashers and waited. The ambulance pulled up beside him. When two women got out, he was relieved. He didn’t know how she would react to men in her fragile state. He explained what he suspected had happened as one went with him to the truck and one pulled out the gurney. He stepped back and let them tend her.

“I had to put her shoulder back in,” he added, but left out any explanation of the slight burn on her wrist. They would figure it was from Jasmine trying to free herself.

“Where are you taking her?”

“She’ll go to Greensboro. She’s stable enough and it’s a better facility.”

As they moved the gurney toward the ambulance, he took her hand. “Morgan has a friend, Jenn. She’s going to come see you. I think she can help you.” He kissed her knuckles.

“Mor…gan,” she moaned again.

“I’ll find her.” He backed away as they loaded her into the ambulance. They moved into the clearing in front of the mine, turned around, and sped past him.

Chapter Fifteen

Morgan swam toward consciousness, battling her way through a miasma of pitch black sludge. She was careful this time. She knew if she so much as let a muscle twitch, a needle would jab her vein and the blackness would overtake her once more. She lay on a cot of some sort, the mustiness bringing bile up her throat. She swallowed trying not to let the muscle in her throat move too much. She cracked one eyelid. Her lashes brushed against material. Something was over her head. Not tight, but there. She forced her eyes open ever so slightly. The weave wasn’t so tight that she couldn’t make out light in the room. And movement. She shut her eyes and prayed whoever it was wouldn’t see the glow of her eyes.

Morgan strained to listen. Feet shuffling back and forth, back and forth. Someone typing on a keyboard. A hand slammed down on a table. She jumped. He grabbed her arm again and jabbed a needle into a vein.
Dorian,
she screamed in her head as everything went black.

****

Dorian slouched in the waiting room chair, legs stretched in front of him, demanding his body to rest. There was nothing he could do but wait. Everything depended on someone else. He hated depending on anyone but himself. He waited on the doctor to finish his exam and treatment of Jasmine. His heart cringed every time he thought about her. He waited on the arrival of John and Jenn. He’d waited on the team from Abbott House to retrieve the rug and stones from him. He’d found the rug and most of the crystals in the mine when he went back in, looking for clues as to where Rob might have taken Morgan. He’d used the gloves he’d gotten from the EMTs and “bagged and tagged” the items as carefully as possible. He’d finished just before the local sheriff’s department arrived, followed by the FBI. Bask would turn over any information he had once he’d had his team study the evidence. He didn’t feel bad about that either, since Abbott House was a financial gorilla when it came to state of the art equipment. Now, he waited on their findings.

Several times he thought he felt Morgan. It was brief, just a whisper. Then it was gone. Cut off. He wasn’t sure he could get a fix on her, even if they had full contact. He shifted in the chair, frustration making him restless.

Voices in the corridor drew his attention. He looked up under hooded lids. Jenn’s bouncing blonde curls led the way as she rushed toward him, an ever-vigilant John behind her.

Dorian pushed himself out of the chair and found himself enfolded in a warm hug.

“Wow, you look like hell,” Jenn leaned back and looked at him.

He tried to smile. Failed. “Thanks,” his voice was hoarse.

“Where is she?”

Dorian nodded toward the closed doors marked “Authorized Personnel Only” and shook hands with John. John’s expression told him there was no news from anywhere else.

Jenn sat down, drawing Dorian down into the chair next to hers. “Have you called the Briscoes?”

He hadn’t had the heart. He’d only talked to them, what, a day before. They were so upbeat, so loving, so supportive of their daughter. He didn’t know how to tell them she’d been taken and he couldn’t begin to find her. He simply shook his head.

“Do you want me to call them?”

“No. I’ll do it.”

“Have you been able to talk to Jasmine?”

“No. She’s not talking right now and they’re running a CT and a MRI to make sure there’s no internal damage.”

“Oh, God,” Jenn said. “I am so sorry. Family?”

“I called Teresa, her cousin. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

“When she can be released, I’d like to bring her back with me. We have a great staff that can help her. Get her on the right track.”

He let his head fall onto his hands. “She didn’t deserve this.”

“Nobody does,” she rubbed her hand up and down his arm.

The doctor walked through the doors. All three rose. “She’s sleeping right now. We have turned the physical evidence over to the police. She doesn’t have any internal hemorrhaging. Her physical wounds will heal…” he voice softened to a mere whisper, his features showed strain.

Jenn approached him and handed him her card and ID. “Can I have a word with her?”

The doctor looked at her credentials and handed back her ID. “I’d like to keep your card. I’ve heard of Safe Harbor. I will ask her to let you talk with her. Thanks for coming.”

He then looked at the two men. “I do have a message for Dorian.” Dorian stepped forward.

“She said Rob’s gone after Morgan. That she did her best to stop him. And that he’s crazy.”

Pain flickered across Dorian’s brow. The doctor took his arm. “I’m sorry. That was all she said.”

The doctor turned to Jenn. “Why don’t you come with me?” He led Jenn through the closed doors. She looked back once before she went through. Dorian saw the fear and sadness in her features an instant before she transformed her expression into professional calm. He nodded his assurance that he would do whatever it took to find Morgan. She turned and was gone.

John waited for him over by the windows. Several people had come in and sat in the chairs, speaking softly, their own concerns utmost on their minds.

“There’s an APB out on Rob. The university was extremely helpful and gave the police access to his personnel file. Bask said it was interesting reading. How Bask got access, I have no idea. The man continues to amaze me.” John was a private investigator that Bask used regularly, since John knew more about the history of Ruthorford than even Bask knew. John’s ancestors were the tribes that surrounded the area, protecting it. “He didn’t have good news,” John continued. “It seems the bastard has vanished off the face of the earth.”

****

Morgan lay perfectly still. She couldn’t have moved her arms and legs had she tried. Their heaviness was unfamiliar to her. It was as though she were lying among a tangle of miscellaneous arms and legs—cold, heavy, lifeless forms. She wanted to move away from the corpse-like appendages but forced herself to remain motionless. Her head throbbed. Her tongue seemed stuck in her parched mouth. She could still see light through the hood. She listened. It seemed like she’d been listening for eons. It wasn’t completely silent, just lifeless. There was a faint distant hum. When she reached out with her senses, something sparked back at her. Stinging.
Don’t move. Don’t even breathe,
she silently commanded herself. Her breath eased shallowly into her lungs. She had been breathing this way for so long, she’d become lightheaded. Disjointed thoughts ran through her mind. She wanted to call for Dorian. Every time she tried, someone shot her full of drugs. The drugs were disconnecting her thoughts and separating her mind from her body.
Dorian.
His name was like the air she fought to keep in her lungs. Screw it. She focused all the energy she had and cried loud and long, hoping her mind would carry it along whatever pathway it needed to reach him. Bee stings of electricity rushed over her body. But, no injection. She risked inhaling deeply, focusing Dorian in her mind’s eye, every detail of his handsome face, pulling to his eyes. His deep blue, compelling eyes. She let her thoughts thrust from her in a rush, straight to his mind. As she watched, the aura surrounding her conjured image spiked. A sliver of a smile crossed her lips as she passed out.

****

“No, no…
No
!” he yelled. “Hang on,” Dorian screamed as John dragged him through the emergency room doors. Nurses and doctors watched. Several stepped forward. John held up his hand. They turned away, figuring grief was overtaking the poor man.

In the parking lot, Dorian spun around. He grabbed John by the arms, his grip fierce. “I had her. Or, she had me. A real connection.” He broke away, spun around, and marched back and forth, head up, searching the sky.

John watch Dorian’s demeanor shift, his shoulders lower, his head come back down. He ran his hands through his hair, as though he could clear his mind. “She’s killing me, man,” he said to no one in particular.

He spun on John. “If he touches one hair on her head…” he let his voice lower, “he’ll pray for death, and it won’t come soon enough.”

They were both thinking of Jasmine. There were no reassurances John could give Dorian.

“She’s strong. She might not know it yet.” Dorian was rambling. “I didn’t get to tell her about the change.”

John put his hand on Dorian’s shoulder, directed his gaze into Dorian’s now blue black eyes. “She’s smart, too. She’ll figure it out. She’s starting to communicate with you, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. But if anything happens to her, it’s my fault.”

“That’s bullshit. You had no idea. Our lives aren’t filled with intrigue for the most part. At least not until recently,” he amended.

They saw Jenn come through the doors. They met her at the bench and sat down. Deep lines etched her forehead. “I got to talk with her a little. She’s upset. More about the danger to Morgan, than what happened to her.” She shook her head. “She was trying to keep him away from Morgan.”

“What do you mean?” Dorian asked.

“Well, when she met him in Ruthorford, he was ‘Morgan this, Morgan that.’ Jealousy reared its head and she led him to believe that she has the same powers that Morgan has. He’s convinced that Morgan can illuminate veins of rare gems. Thinking Jasmine could do the same, he waited and followed Jasmine when she went on vacation. He wined and dined her. However, when she wouldn’t have anything to do with his plans, he drugged her. When she came to, she was shackled in the mine. He demanded she use her…” Jenn raised her fingers and made air quotes, “…powers.” Of course, nothing happened. She convinced him she needed the rug, hoping he’d get caught. Unfortunately, he returned with the rug and the stones. When she couldn’t perform, he beat the shit out of her. He threatened to go after Morgan. She…” Jenn lowered her head and took a breath, “she convinced him it had to be a sexual connection, hoping to distract him and also hoping that he would let her loose. She didn’t know how crazy he was. He never unshackled her. He raped her repeatedly. Every time it didn’t work, he’d beat her. Then, he would start all over again. The last thing she remembers was him telling her to ‘die bitch. I’m bringing back Morgan.’ That’s when he dislocated her shoulder.”

“How did he get the notion Morgan could find gems?”

“Apparently, he had been sneaking around for a while and saw something in the cottage. Stones glowing or something,” she said and looked at Dorian for insight.

He and John exchanged a glance, unsure what Jenn knew or what to tell her. Jenn interrupted their non-verbal communication, “I get the bit about the gargoyle creatures, but I didn’t know about the rocks.” When they both stared at her, she shrugged, “She’s my BFF, guys. We share—with a capital S.”

John wanted to hug her. This spry blonde had given Dorian a moment of mirth. Anything to lessen the hell that Dorian seemed determined to carry with him right now. John’s phone rang.

“Yeah.” He listened intently. “Thanks. We’re on our way.”

“That was Bask. He got a call. They’ve found Rob. Alone. His truck was in a ditch not far from the cabin. Looks like he’s had some sort of seizure. He’s pretty messed up. Bask has a plane waiting for us at a field just north of here.”

They started toward the truck, remembered Jenn, and turned back.

“Go on. I’m traveling with Jasmine. Call me when you know something.” She turned and disappeared into the hospital.

“Quite a woman,” Dorian said, as they sped out of the parking lot.

“My thoughts exactly,” John admitted.