Reach for You Page 2

  Fear weakened my legs and I sunk down on a dining nook bench. The idea of attracting ghosts or spirits didn’t bother me. If Zea were dead, it wouldn’t be a shock, considering he wasn’t that healthy to start with. Not that it would be a good thing either. But Lotli—we needed her and her flute-magic.

  I took a deep breath, calming myself, as the Professor settled onto the bench across the table from me. Selena sat down on the floor cross-legged, clutching the brush between her hands. She closed her eyes and began to slowly sway.

  For a long moment, silence weighed heavy in the camper. I became keenly aware of the lumpy cushion beneath my legs and of a faint aroma of curry and fennel, spices Lotli and Zea must have used a lot. And a hint of mildew as well. Selena’s head bobbed forward. Abruptly, it snapped back up. Her eyes flickered open, showing nothing but the whites.

  The Professor flinched and jerked back. I bit my tongue to keep from gasping. I’d seen her do this once before, but that didn’t make it any less frightening.

  The nerves in her face spasmed, then stilled. “Not dead,” she mumbled. “He’s nearby, but not that close. Drifting, sleeping, meditating, maybe.”

  “And Lotli?” I asked, barely daring to speak.

  Selena’s head rolled on her shoulders. She shuddered, her breathing becoming loud and labored. “Not with him. She’s—I sense rope, wooden beams . . .”

  I leaned forward, ears pricked so I wouldn’t miss a word.

  “Ouch!” Selena yelped as if burned. She leapt to her feet and slammed the hairbrush to the floor. “Son of a bitch that hurt.”

  The Professor and I both scrambled out from the nook.

  “What happened? Are you all right?” I took her by the shoulders, peering into her eyes to make sure they were back to normal. They were, though her pupils were dilated like she was terrified.

  The Professor patted her arm. “You’re fine. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  “No, I’m not,” Selena said, her breath still ragged. “The hairbrush—it bit me. I was almost to her. Then I felt this presence.”

  My gaze darted to the hairbrush. “Bit you? What are you talking about?”

  “I thought I was approaching a riding stable. There was this electric fence around it. Only it wasn’t that kind of fence. It was the presence of a fence. A magic fence. Powerful, enclosing Lotli. I touched it—and zap.” She eyed the hairbrush. “I’m not going near that thing again. But we should take it with us, so we can see what Mom and Kate sense.”

  I nudged the brush with my shoe to make sure it wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had no ability to scry or sense things, and it hadn’t done anything before, but there was no reason to take a chance. Certain I wouldn’t get zapped, I scooped the brush up and shoved it handle-first back into my pocket. “We should probably take a few other things, too, don’t you think? So your mom and Kate have a variety of stuff to scry with.”

  Selena nodded, then glanced at the Professor. “Would you mind getting my water bottle from the car? I’m so dry, I can barely swallow.”

  “Oh, yes. Absolutely.” He flew out the door and Selena and I started opening drawers, looking for things to take with us—Lotli’s bras, panties, socks, scarves, a large box devoted to jewelry. I stopped. “Selena, are you finding anything that looks like it might belong to Zea, like pants?”

  “He’s probably sworn to a life of poverty. Shamans do things like that.”

  I surveyed the chock-full trailer. “You really think so? I mean, all this and not even one pair of pants for him, really? Why would he allow Lotli to have tons of stuff?”

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter anyway. We know he’s alive and we’ve got the hairbrush. It doesn’t sound nice, but, honestly, it’s Lotli, not him, we need to find.”

  “You’re sure he’s all right, though?”

  “Definitely. He probably got lonely with Lotli gone and went to stay with some local friend.”

  “That makes sense.” It was also entirely possible that the kidnappers had come here first looking for Lotli and that’s why he took off.

  The thump of the Land Rover door shutting sounded in the distance, undoubtedly the Professor was on his way back with the water.

  Selena bit her bottom lip, her eyes filling with worry.

  I lowered my voice. “If you’re thinking I’m going to say something in front of him about what you did to Newt, forget it. My lips are sealed. But I’m not ready to declare Newt and his family innocent. Do you think there’s any chance they’re involved with magic?”

  She snorted loudly. “Are you crazy? Of course not.”

  “Then how about we prove it?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

  “We’re near Bar Harbor. Newt lives there, right? If we were to make a little side trip—like say to his neighborhood—would you be able to tell if we were closer to this magic fence?”

  “It depends. Probably not. But”—she took out her phone—“I’m all for doing some snooping if only to prove that Newt and his family are innocent.” Her lips curved into a devious smile and she began typing.

  I lunged forward, sandwiching her hands and phone between mine. “Not so fast. Who are you texting?”

  She shimmied her phone out of my grip. “That was a good move, but it’s the Professor’s phone you need to grab, not mine. We don’t want him calling Kate or Mom and telling them what we’re up to.”

  “I’m not doing anything until you explain.” I folded my arms across my chest. “All I’m suggesting is that we drive by the house, so you can check for any trace of magic.”

  She turned her attention back to the phone. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Selena,” I said warningly. But I was curious what she had in mind. To be honest, at this point I was up for anything. I craned my neck, glancing at her phone. Newt, of course—who else would she be texting?

  U still home? I’ve got the car, if you’ve got the time <3

  She sent the message, then looked at me. “He was all over himself apologizing this morning because he can’t see me for a few days, something about his cousin getting married. They’ve got rehearsal this afternoon, then a dinner. The wedding’s on Friday. His whole family’s involved—that means no one will be at their house right now. We could peek in a few windows.”

  Her phone buzzed and she held it up so I could read Newt’s response.

  Sorry, babe. Already left. Sunday, U and me?

  She raised her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

  I toyed with my necklace for a second, mulling over the idea. We’d been led to believe Newt’s sleazebag younger brother, Myles, had kidnapped Lotli based on a previous attempt that I’d interrupted. Information we’d gotten from a local plumber had convinced us that Newt and his family were lying about his dad’s profession and who owned the summer house they were living in. The truth was, even if we didn’t discover anything related to magic, a peek through the windows might go a long ways toward confirming or eliminating this secondhand information.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” I said. But in the back of my mind I could already hear the scream of police sirens and the click of handcuffs closing around my wrists. Unlawful trespass. Not exactly the kind of thing that enhanced college résumés.

  CHAPTER 3

  He followed the sleepwalker through the dark tunnels and into the necropolis. But what he sought and where the sleepwalker led were two very different things indeed.

  —James William Freemont

  The Tale of the Sleepwalker’s Hoard

  It was around five when I drove past Newt’s house, an older two-story cape near the end of a sparsely populated cul-de-sac. Even without any other evidence, the fact that Newt had never invited Selena to their so-called summer home or introduced her to any of his family—other than sleazebag Myles—made it likely that this place contained at least a few secrets.

  I reached where a tall cedar hedge marked the end of their prope
rty. Just beyond it, an access road went down toward the ocean. I backed into the access and parked where we could see the front of the house through the hedge. One bay of the house’s attached garage was open, but there were no people or cars around.

  Selena leaned over the front seat and cuffed the Professor’s arm. “See, I told you, no one’s home.”

  “They’re here, somewhere. No one in their right mind would leave without closing the garage doors,” he said.

  I unhooked my seatbelt. “They probably were distracted and left in a hurry.”

  “You really believe that?” He raised an eyebrow.

  Doubt hovered in my mind, but I wasn’t about to let him know it. However, I also wasn’t totally foolish. I pulled his phone from my pocket and held it out to him. Following Selena’s suggestion, I’d confiscated it from him back at the campsite, so he couldn’t call Kate. Now that he’d calmed down a little, it seemed wiser to give it back.

  Selena lunged for the phone. “Are you crazy?”

  I outmaneuvered her and slipped the phone to the Professor. “He can call us if he sees a car pulling in or anything.”

  “At least one of you has some sense,” the Professor said. “And just to be perfectly clear, I’m not convinced this idea doesn’t have merit. I am, however, against either of you taking any unnecessary chances.”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t.” My voice might have been filled with confidence, but I was fully aware that just parking here had put us at risk.

  I grabbed a flashlight from under my seat. It might help us see into the basement windows, a good place to start since that’s where the plumber found his evidence.

  Selena and I hiked up the street and down the driveway toward Newt’s house, as casual as if we belonged there. I didn’t dare say anything to Selena, but I was starting to feel woozy along with stiff and sore. The truth was, if Chase had been with us, he’d have told me to take it easier. No. He would have made me stay home and rest.

  A small black metal sign on the garage caught my eye: PROTECTED 24/7 BY SAFEHOLM.

  I moved in close to Selena and whispered, “I can’t see anything. But they’ve definitely got some kind of security system.”

  She lowered her voice. “Newt told me he used to cover a camera and sneak in through a bathroom window when he got home late from partying.”

  “He could have just said that to encourage you to sneak out and meet him,” I said.

  She flashed me a dirty look, then lengthened her strides and marched swiftly toward the darkness of the open garage bay.

  A warning prickled the back of my neck. Too convenient.

  I hurried my steps and followed her. “Do you sense anything—like the fence?” I asked louder than I’d have liked, but it did make her stop and glance toward me.

  While her brow wrinkled with concentration, I quickly scanned the shadows. A short flight of stairs led up to a back door with a security keypad next to it.

  There was a rolled-up garden hose. A pair of old swim fins. Pieces of copper pipe and a toolbox with DOWN EAST HEATING AND PLUMBING stamped on the side. For the most part, the place was neat and disturbingly empty.

  Ahead, a dust-smeared window framed a view of the backyard and an immense array of huge antennas and satellite dishes, enough for a small military installation or a TV studio, way more than the basic Wi-Fi.

  I tilted my head, weighing if I should point them out to Selena or wait for her to spot them on her own. The information that we’d gotten from the plumber claimed a guy named Jeffrey White owned this house, instead of Newt’s dad. Jeffrey White hosted a TV show about history and ancient aliens—in other words, he was the kind of guy who might have a huge antennae array.

  “I don’t sense the fence or anything,” Selena said. “Not a trace. Which isn’t a surprise since they aren’t—” Her voice tensed and she stopped talking. “Fucking Newt,” she snarled. “The bastard lied to me. He stinking lied!”

  She kicked a doormat, sending it flying across the floor.

  I grabbed her by the arm, squeezing. “Shush. Calm down,” I said, but even at a distance, I could see what had pissed her off. WELCOME TO THE WHITES’ HOUSE was printed in bold letters across the doormat.

  She shoved my hand away and pointed at a sign hanging beside the back door. “It says White, too. I can’t freaking believe it!”

  I softened my voice. “I know. It’s awful. But we don’t need the neighbors calling the cops.”

  “How could Newt do that to me?” Her voice hitched. “He loves me.”

  I rested my hand on her arm. “I don’t think Newt intended to hurt you. After all, he didn’t totally lie. His family does live here. It just belongs to someone else.” I nudged her toward the garage door. “Come on. Let’s look around out back.”

  The name pretty much proved Newt and his family were liars. However, I wasn’t totally convinced all the plumber’s claims were true. He swore Newt’s dad wasn’t a stockbroker, but instead made his living running a blog about snake wrestlers. That sounded a bit far-fetched. But, whether the snake wresting was true or not, there had to be more here, something to link Newt and his family to magic. If we could uncover that connection, it might bring us closer to figuring out why they’d taken Lotli, and that combined with the scrying could lead us to where she was being held.

  We dashed out of the garage and around to the backyard. Unfortunately, other than the electronic equipment, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to be seen. No stone circles or ritual fire pits. No mound that could hide a bunker. Not even a witchy herb garden. Only a very average deck attached to the house and a standard metal bulkhead that undoubtedly protected an equally normal basement entry.

  Pushing aside my disappointment, I led Selena up a flight of stairs and onto the deck. We peered through a set of sliding glass doors and into a family room: hardwood floor, exposed beams, walls decorated with photos of Acadia National Park. To the left, there was a kitchen, modern and clean.

  “We’re not going to find anything else here,” Selena said. “We should get going.”

  I relented and headed back down to the lawn, but uneasiness twitched in my stomach. One of the things I’d learned from my years of dealing antiques with Dad was that the best cons appeared innocent on the outside—not that Dad and I did illegal stuff, but there were a lot of crooks in the business, and Dad had taught me to watch out and trust my gut. Right now, it was screaming that something was out of kilter. I just needed to dig deeper.

  Frustrated, I stared at the house, windows glittering in the sunshine. “Selena, you really don’t sense any magic?”

  “Not a trace. And that fence wasn’t cloaked, if anything related to it was here, I should sense it.”

  I nibbled my bottom lip, my gaze lowering to the bulkhead as an idea formed. “What about other things, like books about the occult, witchcraft tools . . . stuff like that—would you be able to sense them?”

  “Depends. Maybe. What are you thinking?”

  “When the plumber poked around, he was focused on the ancient alien TV things, stuff that had made him geek out and start snooping. He might have overlooked the witchcraft.” A renewed sense of energy pumped into my veins as I eyed the bulkhead’s metal doors secured with a chain and padlock. “If I had a good stiff wire, I could open that in less than a minute.”

  In two strides Selena walked over, crouched down, and took ahold of the chain. “I bet I could do it in half that time.”

  “No way,” I said. She had no idea how to pick locks.

  She grinned and slid the padlock free from the chain.

  “No shit,” I said. The lock had been holding the chain’s ends together, but it hadn’t been locked shut. “First the garage door, now this?”

  “Seems a bit too convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Exactly.” I glanced toward the cedar hedge that hid the Land Rover, then back at the bulkhead. “The Professor will phone if anyone shows up. My gut’s telling me to go for it.”


  Selena paled. “This is a lot riskier than what we planned on doing.”

  “It could be our only chance.” I removed the chain and pulled the bulkhead door open. It was heavy as hell and creaked as if it hadn’t been oiled in years. Chase was depending on me. So was my mother. We needed all the information we could get to figure out what Newt’s family was up to, and find Lotli. Without her, there was no way to free Chase and Mother from the djinn realm and Malphic’s grip.

  I stepped into the bulkhead and went down the three steps to the basement’s door. Then I took out my flashlight and turned back toward Selena. “I’ll meet you back at the car in five minutes.”

  “Hell with that.” She scowled. “I’m coming with you.” She hurried down the steps, lowering the metal door shut behind her.

  Darkness closed in. I clicked on my flashlight, its beam bright in the cramped space.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said.

  I opened the basement door, and we stepped inside.

  Gray light dribbled in through scattered half windows, revealing stacks of boxes with narrow paths between them. It was far too shadowy and dark for my taste, but I couldn’t let fear take over. Too much was at stake. Besides, last month I’d discovered my excessive fear of the dark stemmed from witnessing my mother’s kidnapping. I could deal with it much better now. I had to.

  I fanned the flashlight’s beam slowly, starting at the doorway and moving clockwise around the room. It was a technique Dad and I used when we purchased crowded rooms of junk. Don’t jump from one spot to another. Be organized. Take your time.

  The beam brightened a washer and dryer. A hot water heater. Plumbing supplies . . .

  I studied the pipes and wrenches for a second. The way the stuff was haphazardly strewn around made me think the plumber had stopped in the middle of a project and would be back at any moment, except it was after five o’clock and the basement was totally dark. If he was anywhere, he was off having an after-work beer with his friends.