Arrest, Search and Séance : Book 1 of the Fringe Society by R.D. Hunter (pdf e book reader TXT) 📕

sank to my knees from the weight of it. Every magical cell in my body went from shriveled up and empty to bursting with power in less than a second as my proclamation along with my true name took effect. My vision blurred and faded and I gritted my teeth as I struggled to find some sort of balance with myself. It was hard, like holding a saucer of water and trying to keep it perfectly level while walking uphill. Eventually, though, I managed it. I felt the magical energy within myself equalize, and I let out a long, slow sigh of relief.

When I opened my eyes, Beth was by my side while the other girls talked fearfully about what they’d just witnessed. Snippets of their conversation came to me, carried over on a cool, night breeze.

“…never seen anything like that.”

“…the size of it.”

“…almost peed myself.”

Beth helped me to my feet, then steadied myself until I could stand on my own.

“Everyone ok?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain calm and steady. One by one, they all nodded. “Good. I want to thank you all for everything you’ve done for me tonight. Nichole would be proud.”

“What now?” Amelia asked.

“Your job’s done. You’re welcome to stay here tonight, but whatever you do, stay inside and stay together.”

“But we want to help,” Janice said. The others nodded gamely. I was touched, but I couldn’t allow them to go any further.

“You already have. You’ve given your all for this ceremony, and I intend to use it to bring Nichole’s killer to justice. Stay by the phone. If I need you, I’ll call.”

One by one, they agreed, and I went back inside to change clothes. I couldn’t confront a monstrous evil in a white, almost-see-through gown. What would Gramps think?

I’d just finished shucking on jeans, an old, red t-shirt and brown jacket, when my body exploded in sudden and unexpected agony. My head felt like it was going to burst while my left leg and arm throbbed with pain. My chest felt like it was filled with liquid fire and I couldn’t draw a deep breath to save my life.

The amulet Gramps gave me had been a constant source of warmth all this time. Now it had gone cold and lifeless as the energies inside it sputtered and died.

“No!” I said through gritted teeth as I leaned on the bed for support. “Not now. I just need a little longer. Please.”

As if motivated by my pleas, the amulet flared to life again, beating back the pain and misery and holding it at bay like a concrete dam. I could breathe again. Best of all, I could move. I wiped away the tears that had come unbidden to my eyes and finished getting dressed. I had to hurry. This little outage was a sure sign the amulet was running on fumes. If it decided to die while I was fighting Hawkins, I was beyond boned.

My service weapon had been confiscated as soon as I got to the hospital, as per protocol, but I still had my off-duty weapon. It was a Glock 9mm, as opposed to the 40 caliber I usually carried. Not as much stopping power, but it would have to do. As I reached for the grip, though, something different happened. I felt a surge of energy crackle all around me, and glowing runes and sigils manifested along the barrel and trigger guard. What the hell? It took me a moment to figure out what was happening.

During the re-dedication, I’d proclaimed myself as a protector. Traditionally, protectors carried swords or shields, sometimes both, during the course of their duty. Well, I couldn’t wield a blade for shit and I couldn’t fit a shield in my little Honda, so I’d delegated something else as my weapon of choice; something I was much more familiar with.

Part of me wondered if the same would happen with any gun I picked up, or just this one. That was a condition I’d have to check out later. For now, the hour was growing late, the festival of Imbolc was swinging into full gear, Hawkins was getting ready to make his move, and the amulet that held my pain in check enough to keep me ambulatory was running out of juice. It was time this witch got to work.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Beth told me where the Coven of the Gilded Moon was holding their Imbolc festival. It was in an empty warehouse on the north end of the city, far from prying eyes but not rundown or infested with vermin. Smart. As soon as I was in the car, I got on the phone.

My first call was to Jack. He was one of the best bartenders in the Fringe and was regularly tapped to work important events. I just prayed he would answer.

“Hi, Mel,” he said after the third ring. In the background, I could hear low music and the steady clamor of voices. Jackpot.

“Jack, listen to me,” I said, talking fast. “You’re in terrible danger. All of you are. You have to convince everyone to leave.”

“What’s that, Mel? I can’t hear you.” Shit. The noise in the background intensified and a thick burst of static caused me to wince. I’d forgotten how bad cell reception was in that area.

“Jack, get out,” I said, louder this time. “All of you need to get out of there. I’m on my way.” There was another buzz in my ear and the line went dead. Damn it! Had he heard me? I didn’t think so.

I made another call as I zoomed through traffic. It went through without a hitch and after a couple minutes of fast talking, I hung up with a satisfied smile on my face. This might actually work out.

I arrived at the warehouse in record time. From