Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians (19 page)

"I don't mean
see
me. I mean recognize me as a woman.
 
As a female he desired."

My lip curled at the idea of his nasty-ass demon parts getting anywhere near me.
 
Céline had seriously bad taste in men.

"I see you find the idea distasteful.
 
But believe me, Torrie was a handsome specimen of a fae.
 
He was a silver elf like us, tall and proud.
 
His family was very well-respected, and he could ride the wind like no one I'd ever seen."

Her eyes had a faraway look to them.
 
She was cruising that wind from her memory, but I didn't try to bring her back down to the Here and Now.
 
The more lost she was, the better chance I had of getting the truth out of her.
 
"So what happened?"

She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers in her lap.
 
"The only woman he ever saw was Maléna.
 
She was older than me, prettier, bolder ... every male fae in a one hundred kilometer radius from our home wanted her for their own.
 
Torrie did everything he could think of to win her favor.
 
He fought harder, reached higher, and flew stronger.
 
But none of it mattered."

"Why?"

"Because she only had eyes for one fae.
 
And it wasn't Torrence Silverthorne."

"Dardennes," I said simply.
 
I'd heard this part of the story before.

"Yes.
 
Anton Dardennes, the only one who didn't try to win her favor was the only one she wanted.
 
Maléna was like that ... still is.
 
She only wants that which she cannot have."

"Jealous, anyone?"
 
I was so pissed right then that this whole thing started over sibling jealousy.
 
Talk about bad decisions.
 
I had nothing on Céline.
 
She was ten times dumber than me.

"It was more than that.
 
Or less, depending on how you look at it."
 
She looked up at me, a pleading expression in her eyes.
 
"I loved Torrie.
 
With all of my heart, I truly loved him.
 
I would have flown to the moon if he had asked me to."

"But he didn't care."

"No.
 
He cared not one wit about what I wanted, how I felt, or the fact that when Maléna acted like she wanted him, she was only doing it to get the attention of another fae ... Anton.
 
And eventually she did.
 
She played her games and manipulated the players as only she can do, and she managed to convince Anton that he couldn't live without her."

"What about Torrie?"

She laughed bitterly.
 
"Torrie.
 
Ohhh, Torrie.
 
He went into a tailspin for sure.
 
Maléna left us and joined the Dark Fae to be with her lover."

"Wait ... you guys were all Light Fae?
 
Even Torrie?"

"Of course.
 
All of the Silverthorne clan have always been Light Fae, so long as our ranks have been split into Light and Dark."

"So what happened then?
 
After Maléna and Dardennes were together and Torrie did his tailspin thing?"

"He disappeared for a while.
 
I searched for him, hoping I could find him and convince him to come back and accept me as his consolation prize."

"Oh, shit, Céline.
 
That is so lame," I said, unable to keep from saying it.

She nodded.
 
"I know that now.
 
But I was in love.
 
I didn't care.
 
I would have done anything for him.
 
Anything at all."
 
She lifted her head.
 
"Including sell my soul."

A shiver went up my spine, and my ass hairs stood on end.
 
"Did you just say sell your soul?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes again.

"What the fuck did you do, Céline?"

She whispered her answer so softly, I almost couldn't hear it.
 
But that didn't make it any less spooky.
 
"I made a deal."

My lips pressed into a thin line, and my teeth ground together for a few seconds before I said, "Because everything in life is negotiable, right?"

She just nodded her head.
 
The silent message passed between us, though, loud and clear.

I sent The Green back into the ground at my feet and dispersed the Water element into the air around us, the shield instantly disappearing as everything went back to where it was supposed to be.
 
Ben stood just outside of where it had been with Spike, Tony, Finn, Scrum, Becky, and Jared right next to him.

Becky was the first one to react. "Ohhhh myyy gooooodness ... Jayne?
 
What did you just do?"

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle ... Jayne?
 
What're you doin' makin' poor Céline cry in one-a your power bubbles?" demanded Finn.
 
"That just ain't right by my calculations.
 
No sir."

"Not now, smiley ... grits.
 
I have some hag ass to kick." I pushed past Becky, Finn, and the others to get to the door where I met Samantha just on her way in.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked.

"Going to punch Maggie in the head.
 
Wanna come?"

"And watch you punch Maggie in the head?
 
I wouldn't miss it for the realm," said Samantha.

We shoved each other out of the room in a scramble before anyone could join us, and I slammed the door shut.
 
"Mind putting a spell on this mother so we can keep them from following?"

"I'd be happy to.
 
But you might want to add a little of your own glue on it, just in case they have witch friends nearby."

I nodded once, imagining the wood of the door rooting itself to the frame, and smiled in satisfaction as I heard the telltale cracking sounds that told me it had been successful.

"Let's ride," I said, jogging down the hallway, headed to the door with the gargoyle on it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

SAMANTHA AND I RAN THROUGH the forest to Maggie's house.
 
It was only when I saw the giant base of The Ancient One that I finally slowed down.
 
When I got within ten paces of the door, I had to stop completely and bend over to catch my breath, I was so winded.

"Damn," wheezed Samantha, "what's your hurry?"
 
She was bent over next to me for a few seconds before she stood and walked around in circles and figure eights.

"Tim and Abby are missing.
 
They went to find their son.
 
I have to find them before they do something awful."

"Like what?"
 
She was swinging her arms back and forth across her chest like a runner warming up.

"I have no idea.
 
Blow up the world, maybe?
 
Tim can get pretty excited when the shit hits the fan."

"Wow.
 
Okay, so what's the deal with Maggie?
 
What's she got to do with it?"

"Other than messing around with Céline, I'm not sure.
 
I'm prepared to make a deal with her, and let her live in exchange for some information she has that I need.
 
Plus, I think she can tell me where to find the pixies."

As we walked up to the door, Samantha whispered, "You wouldn't really kill her, would you?"

"Don't bet on it," I said, knocking about twenty times in quick succession, changing to outright banging about halfway through.
 
"Open up, soul-stealer!
 
We need to talk!"

Maggie didn't answer.

"Maybe she's not home," said Samantha.
 
"We should leave."

"Oh, she's home, alright.
 
I can feel her sorry ass inside there.
 
She can run, but she can't hide."
 
I banged on the door some more.
 
"Open up bait-breath, or I'll rip it off!"

The tree above me groaned, and I amended my threat in my head.
 
Okay, I'll just pry it open a little, relax.

Still we got no response, even with the crazy-knocking that I knew made her insane.
 
I sent a message to the tree to open up for us, and after a few clicks of the internal locking mechanism, the door swung free.
 
Samantha grabbed it and pulled it the rest of the way open.
 
We both stood in the entrance, peering into the dim interior.

Everything looked normal.
 
Nothing was smashed or missing from the shelves that I could see.

"Is she in there?" asked Samantha.

"I don't know," I whispered back, double-checking that I could still feel her presence here, using the ley line to guide me.
 
I could feel her, there was no doubt about it; it was a weak signature, but it was definitely hers.
 
"Come on."
 
I stepped inside, my eyes darting back and forth, searching for a sign of Maggie so I could stop her before she winged a friggin skunk spell or some other awfulness at me.

But even with Samantha and me both searching the small space, we couldn't figure out where she was.

"You said she was definitely here," said Samantha.

"Yeah.
 
And she is.
 
I can
feel
her."

"That's kind of gross, actually, that you can feel her," she said, a trace of humor in her voice.
 
She fake-shuddered for effect.

"Tell me about it."

"Can you feel where she is exactly, a location?
 
Like find the source of the signal?"

I hadn't thought of it that way before.
 
"Like Maggie radar?
 
Ew.
 
And I thought it couldn't get grosser."

"Just try."

I closed my eyes, focusing on finding the origin of her signature in the mix of the living things around me.
 
There was a huge jumble of them, way more than there should have been, considering where we were.

"What?" asked Samantha, whacking my upper arm with the back of her hand.
 
"Why do you have that look on your face?
 
What's going on?"

I reached out blindly to pat her arm.
 
I got her face instead, but went ahead and tapped it a few times anyway.
 
"Just relax, grasshoppah.
 
I'm feeling the fohhhrce."

"Dude, you're mixing up your movie lines."

"Whatever.
 
Just give me a sec.
 
Everything's all messed up in here.
 
It's like there's a thousand people on the line and not just the three of us."

Samantha stopped moving and got totally silent.
 
Then her freaked out whisper came so close to my ear with,
"She's in ..."
that I jumped and squawked in fear, my eyes flying open.

"Holy
fuckmart
, Sam!
 
Don't scare me like that!"

She ignored my surprise and just grabbed my arm, pointing with her other hand to the pantry.
 
"She's in there."

I shook my head.
 
"Nope.
 
Not goin' in there.
 
Huh-uh."

"We have to.
 
It's the only place we haven't looked."

I turned to go.
 
"Oh, well.
 
Nice not seeing you, Mags.
 
Gotta go."

Samantha kept a hold on my arm and pulled me back.
 
"What about your friends?"

I glared at her.
 
"Since when did you take on the role of my conscience?
 
Lame, Samantha!
 
Lame!"

She shrugged, still staring at the pantry.
 
"I'm not.
 
I didn't.
 
I just think we need to see if she's okay."

I sighed.
 
"You go ahead.
 
I'll be right here.
 
I'll guard the front door."

She let my arm go and walked slowly over to the pantry.
 
The closer she got to the door, the more nervous I became.

"Be careful!" I whisper-yelled across the room.

She waved me away, flapping her hand behind her back silently; I was pretty sure she was signaling for me to shut the hell up.

My brain was telling me to get my sorry butt over there with her, but my feet wouldn't obey.
 
I looked down to see if they'd grown roots, but they were fine.
 
It must have been my self-preservation instincts keeping me there.

Samantha had reached the door and was pulling it open now.
 
The loud squeaking of the rusty hinge was straight-up horror film soundtrack material, it was so perfectly awful.

"Samantha!
 
Get
back
here!"

There was no damn good reason to go into that closet.
 
If Maggie was in there she was probably just doing inventory on her macabre soul collection, and neither one of us needed to be involved in that.

Samantha ignored me, disappearing behind the half-open door and leaving me alone in the main room.

Seconds ticked by, and the sweat under my arms started to drip.
 
I could actually feel the vein in my neck pulsing out and out and out and out.
 
I heard a shuffling and then nothing again.

"Samantha!" I whispered.
 
"Samantha!
 
Get out here!
 
Don't make me come in there after you!"