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I struggled to catch my breath and, as Luna pressed a couple of tissues into my hand, dried my eyes and blew my nose.
Ysandra looked around. “What are you doing?”
Luna faced her squarely. “I’m going to cast a Locate spell.”
Ysandra cocked her head. “What tradition are you using?”
“Family. My family has several innate abilities, and one is to find lost people. We go through our ancestors for the energy.” There was something about the way she said it…I couldn’t catch the meaning, but Ysandra seemed to understand, because the Consortium member blanched, pulling back.
“Ancestor magic…you realize how much those spells can cost you?” Ysandra almost sounded afraid.
Luna let out a slow breath. “I know. Trust me, I know. But this is the only way. We can’t afford to let another night pass without finding Rhiannon. They want Cicely to show up tonight in the town square by eight o’clock or they’ll turn Rhiannon. You know they’ll do it, too.” Luna shrugged. “I’m not going to let that happen. Since the Consortium won’t engage a seer for us, it’s up to me.”
Ysandra pressed her lips together, a thoughtful look in her eyes. After a moment, she gave one short nod. “As you wish. What backup do you need? This isn’t one of the spells in my repertoire, but I can provide energy to help. Just let me know what you want me to do.”
Luna laughed softly. “Be prepared in case anybody comes through whom we don’t want in here. You know what these spells can conjure up.”
“Are you in danger if you do this?” I broke in. No matter how much I wanted my cousin back, I couldn’t let Luna put herself in danger in order to rescue Rhiannon and I was getting the distinct impression this spell was far more powerful than I had first thought.
Luna shook her head. “Don’t sweat it. There’s always danger when you run family magic and you’re yummanii. Magic for our people works different than for the Fae or the magic-born. It’s more unpredictable, and we are more easily possessed and entranced.”
I had heard this but had never had the opportunity to really sit down with any magic-using yummanii to discuss it. And since I’d met Luna, our lives had been focused on fighting Myst and not much of anything else.
“I didn’t know that. Then how do you get up the courage to use your magic, if it’s so chaotic?” But even as I asked, I realized my question was moot. My mother had run away from her heritage, but most of the magic-born embraced their gifts. There was no reason why the yummanii wouldn’t do the same. “Never mind. What do we do next?”
Luna motioned to Ysandra. “I don’t usually work in a magical circle unless it’s a powerful ritual, like the one my sister did for Grieve. But for this spell, I think we should call the veils of protection. Can you do that without interfering with the resonance of my magic?”
Ysandra nodded. “Yes, protection grids and veils are pretty standard across most magical systems. Especially since my magic is of the pure form, as in purest sense—while I can call the lightning, my energy tends to be that of magical force, untouched by any specific elemental nature.”
“Then set up a veil that allows spirits from my past to come through but no others. I’m a good medium, although I don’t often talk about it, but I don’t want to fight off all the ghosts looking for someone to give them a voice.” Luna turned toward the stairs. “I’m going up to take a quick ritual shower. If you would ring the table with salt, then cast the veil of protection, that’s all I need.” With that, she was off.
Grieve and Chatter had moved to one corner of the room and were talking in low, soft tones. Ysandra motioned me toward the kitchen.>And in the center of the film, dangling from wrist cuffs from the ceiling, was Rhiannon. I caught my breath, stiffening. This was no fetish bar. She was hurting, that much was obvious. And in most fetish clubs, actual damage didn’t play into the scene, except for some of the underground clubs and vampire setups.
Behind me, Chatter let out a low moan. Rhia was wearing a sheer red gown, with no underwear or bra beneath it. Her hair hung loose, and she was staring at the camera with a terrified expression. But then I realized it wasn’t the camera she was staring at, but something in front of the camera that was invisible to us. Or…someone.
She struggled, trying to back up. “Please, please don’t. Leo, please, stop!”
The next moment, her head snapped back and the imprint of a hand showed red against her cheek. She cried out, twisting, but she couldn’t get away from her attacker. The others in the room stayed where they were, kneeling, although I saw a couple of them look up when they seemed to think they weren’t being watched.
“I like it when you say my name, Rio. You remember your nickname, don’t you? The one you used to love me to say.” Leo’s voice echoed out from the television, and it took everything I had not to jump up, to run crazed searching for her. Chatter let out a growl and I sensed, rather than heard, Grieve, trying to calm him down.
Rhiannon said nothing, but the next moment her head went back as Leo—or one of his cronies—grabbed her hair and yanked. Her throat was exposed, and I jumped up. But he didn’t bite her. Instead, a thin red weal began under her chin and ran down to between her breasts. She tried to turn her head, but the blood trickled down her chest.
“That hurt, babe? Good. Bitch. Whore of my dreams. You’re going to hurt a lot more before I get done with you, Rio, because, my sweet, you ran away from me. Your cunt of a cousin turned you against me. Wait till Geoffrey gets hold of her—we’re going to serve her up to Crawl, watch him take her apart, inch by inch. He knows tortures I can only dream about. The great Queens of Summer and Winter will be on their knees, begging for every breath.”
My stomach lurched. Chatter cried out and I heard something crackle. Turning around, I saw flames flickering off his hands. I paused the DVD. “Don’t! You cannot destroy this house—it will do no good. As horrific as this is, we have to know if she…”
“If he kills her.” Chatter’s look terrified me. I’d thought Grieve was dangerous, but the King-Elect of Summer was about to turn into a flaming pillar and go burning the house down around our shoulders.
I turned to Grieve. “If he can’t control himself, get him outside.”
“No, I told you before.” Chatter glared at me but then slowly withdrew the flames into himself. “Leo dies. He dies a thousand deaths.”
“And every one of them will hurt. Let’s finish this so Luna can use her scrying spell to find out where the fuck they are. Then we rescue Rhiannon and take the freakshow down.”
A moment later, reassured he wasn’t going to explode, I pressed Play and the DVD started up again.
Rhia struggled as someone ripped her robe away. Tears running down my face, I forced myself to stand still, watching. We couldn’t see Leo, but what he was doing was obvious by her movements and soft whimpers.
