Truth Seeker Read online

  "Can you and your team be there for backup, just in case?" She lowered her voice, but Philippe still picked up what she said. "I've had warning that I can't trust him."

  Now he held on so his knees wouldn't buckle. She didn't trust him? Her words speared him harder than when she'd said she wasn't interested in him, and the dark well of emotion turned into a geyser of resentment, again with the locket at its root. It didn't matter where his feelings came from. Hadn't they been through enough together?

  He must have made some sort of noise because she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes widened.

  "Yes, thank you. Great, I'll see you later." She hung up. "Philippe?"

  He couldn't back into the room and pretend to be asleep now, so he emerged. The cooler air of the living room brushed his face and hands, heated by anger. "You don't trust me?"

  She stood and shoved her phone in her pocket. "Oh! I do, but I don't trust the locket and what it's doing to you."

  "You don't believe I know my own mind?" He walked toward her and stopped just short of the couch. She didn't move away, but she eyed him warily. He tried to tell his fists to unclench.

  "I know Niniane. Her magic is powerful. She was one of the most talented sorceresses I knew."

  "And are you so helpless? You were her student. Surely she must have taught you some tricks."

  She crossed her arms, and golden sparks flared behind her lenses, but she didn't remove them. "How do you know that? I'm giving you one chance to tell me before I truth-spell you."

  "From a man at the airport. He said he's known you for a long time. He also said that you're the biggest obstacle to ridding yourself of the curse."

  She shook her head. "He lied."

  "Or are you lying to yourself?" He pointed at her, and confronting scratched the soul itch that had started when she'd rejected him. The resentment abated a little, but the anger still simmered. "Poor little Margaret running around saving everyone, but pushing them away if they get too close."

  She inhaled sharply. "Now I know you're under its influence. This isn't like you."

  He stuck his hands in the pockets of his pajamas. "How would you know? You've only known me for, what, two or three days? And who's Charlie? How long have you known him?"

  She spoke quietly, her voice neutral. "An ally. And I just met him this afternoon."

  "That's crap. You sounded like you've known him forever. He's the reason you don't want to even try to date me, isn't he? Not some bullshit curse."

  She took off her glasses, but only to rub her eyes. "I'm not having this discussion again. You know my reasons."

  At seeing her fatigue, Philippe's tension drained, and he had to grab the back of the couch when he swayed on his feet.

  "You need to go back to bed," she told him. She walked around the couch to help him, but he waved her off.

  "I can make it. Wake me up when it's time to go."

  He stumbled into the bedroom and barely made it to the bed, where he collapsed into sleep.

  Or thought he did. Now he stood across from the man in the gray suit in the middle of swirling storm clouds.

  "How did it go?" he asked.

  "Not well." Philippe sighed. "I really think it's futile."

  "Well, one way to get someone like Maggie to attach to you is to let her rescue you." He tapped his temple. "Classic psychology."

  Philippe crossed his arms—this place, wherever it was, had a damp chill. "I'm listening."

  "Let me know where they'll be doing the ritual to rid you of the locket, and I'll create a diversion. Then she'll have to rescue you and care for you, and voila." He spread his hands. "She'll be yours and you hers."

  Philippe opened his mouth, then shut it at a whisper of a suspicion at the back of his brain. "How do I know I can trust you?"

  "I told you what you wanted to know about her, didn't I?" He smiled, but it wasn't pleasant.

  "I don't have an exact location," Philippe said. He'd give a vague answer to get the guy off his back. "Just that it's somewhere near a cemetery."

  "Ah, I know the place. The witch Lucia uses it often." He snapped his fingers, and Philippe awoke. He turned over, but the locket seemed to be forming a lump in his stomach, and he couldn't get comfortable. Someone who felt as exhausted as he did from the constant tug-of-war between his desires and his instincts should be able to go to sleep easily. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he became aware of was Maggie gently shaking his shoulder.

  "Philippe? Wake up. It's time."

  10

  The cemetery wasn't far, but Maggie drove Philippe to it since he was weakening rapidly. After she settled him on a stone bench, Lucia handed her a rake. The two of them cleared the fallen leaves from a circular area about ten feet across in the middle of the clearing. Charlie and a small team arrived soon after and introduced themselves. Maggie braced herself for Philippe to be angry or jealous, but thankfully Philippe only shook Charlie's hand. Disturbingly, he seemed relieved to see Charlie. Maggie didn't think she'd revealed anything to Philippe—she didn't know the details of the ritual itself—but she also wasn't aware of how long he'd been eavesdropping on her conversation with Charlie.

  Charlie and his team donned their helmets and melted into the woods around them to form a perimeter of protection. Maggie hoped that would be security enough. She would have preferred the cemetery itself, and she locked her awareness on the border of the consecrated ground so she'd know exactly where to drag Philippe should things go south. Lucia had just taken out the salt to purify it when a scratching sound made Maggie hold up one of her hands.

  "What is it?" Philippe asked. She didn't blame him for being on high alert—they all were.

  "Shhh." But she softened the hush with a smile. He nodded and appeared to relax. A wave of guilt washed over her—she'd spoken harshly to him, but before that, she'd allowed him to fall for her too hard. But she couldn't have done anything differently. It didn't matter—she couldn't focus on that now. Hopefully the noise was only some sort of woodland creature, but the sinking feeling in her stomach made her suspect otherwise.

  "I heard something, too." Lucia frowned at the area they'd just raked. The sound happened again, this time from the other side of the clearing. Maggie held out a hand to pull Philippe to his feet, but the ground exploded between them. She fell back, spitting dry grass and soil, and landed on her ass as Philippe toppled off the bench. After she blinked the dirt from her eyes, she looked up to see Niniane towering over her. Her cousin lacked the aura power from their previous encounter—she must still be recovering from when Philippe shot her—but she had the energy of anger to strengthen her.

  Maggie checked on the others as much as she could. The noise of a battle raging around the clearing told her Charlie and his men were busy, and Lucia used her long staff to fend off a couple of nightmare creatures with patchy fur and fangs.

  Ugh, more were-bats.

  "Well met, Cousin." Niniane lifted her chin. "You're looking well. Did your little organization take you back?"

  Maggie tried to stagger to her feet, but Niniane held out a hand, and an invisible weight crushed her back. The waning light made something sparkle at Niniane's throat—the locket with Maggie's hair. Maggie groaned—she'd be vulnerable to whatever attack her cousin made unless she could somehow get it back.

  "You're a fool to take me on as long as I have—whoops!" A dark shoe swept Niniane off her feet, and she fell sideways. Philippe vaulted over her and helped Maggie to stand. He leaned on her, and she didn't object. If she held on to him, Niniane couldn't take him.

  With supernatural-quick movements, Niniane stood. "That was a dirty trick, human. I'm looking forward to ripping my locket from you."

  Maggie felt Philippe's fear through her fingers where they still held hands, and she tightened her grip. Could she access the power from Niniane's locket? Philippe's unfortunate feelings for her made it easy to follow the energy path down his arm, through his chest, and into his stomach, where Niniane's lo
cket sat. The energy around it felt like black sludge, but Maggie grabbed it and raised her hand to block Niniane's next attempt to throw her back. Frustration twisted Niniane's face.

  "I can easily have his hand cut off, you know." She gestured to one of the creatures Lucia fought, but when it turned, Lucia speared it with her staff between its greasy wings, and it disappeared.

  "Use your eyes," Lucia called.

  "Right. Good idea." Maggie ripped her lenses from her face and allowed her full Truth Seeker power to shine forth. A golden light diffused the air around them, and Maggie saw the truth in a vision.

  Niniane stood on the shore of the lake and watched Avalon disappear into the mists for the last time as the sun set. She turned, frustration and hatred darkening her features, and a familiar-looking man in gray robes appeared by her side. He whispered something to her, and she smiled and nodded.

  Maggie blinked back tears. She didn't need to know what the man had said to her cousin, who hadn't been cursed. It was always the same. She'd been twisted by the lust for the power she'd lost when the Arthurian golden age had ended, deceived as so many had been by the promises of the Gray Vampire. Did he still work with Niniane?

  He hadn't appeared yet, so likely not. Maggie planted her feet and pointed at her cousin. "Niniane, I hereby ban—"

  Now Maggie found herself on her stomach, having been tackled by one of Niniane's creatures. Philippe had tumbled to the ground with her and fought one-handed against the imp trying to get to his stomach with long, scalpel-sharp claws. He didn't let go of her, and Maggie kicked the creature off him. It cartwheeled through the clearing and crashed against the stone bench, lying dazed.

  "Quick," she said. She and Philippe rose together, and blood streamed from the arm he'd been using to fend off the creature.

  "Do what you need," he said, his face gray.

  She squeezed his hand and turned to Niniane, who had circled around, knife in hand, trying to get a clear opportunity to finish Philippe.

  "Niniane, I banish you," Maggie gasped with one more tug on the power of the locket in Philippe's stomach. Power rushed through both of them and in a stream toward Niniane. Maggie caught her breath when it tried to rebound at her, and she blocked it, bending back under its force. She focused on the weakness in Niniane's aura and gave one final push, picturing a dimension with no connection to the one where they fought, somewhere beyond the neighboring realms of Faerie and the Collective Unconscious. Somewhere Niniane couldn't make her way back from easily. With a shriek, Niniane disappeared, leaving Maggie's locket to tumble through space. Maggie darted forward, but with a metallic clink, it landed in the open hand of the imp, who took off with it.

  Philippe fell to the ground and let go of Maggie. He curled into the fetal position, his arms clutched over his stomach.

  "Go," he croaked. "I'm dying. They can't hurt me any more than I am."

  Maggie knelt beside him. "You can hang on. You have to."

  "I'll take care of him," Lucia assured her. "Go get your locket so they can't use it against you again."

  Maggie hesitated. She felt the locket moving away, but Philippe had been so brave. "I can't just leave him."

  "Go." He shoved at her leg.

  She kissed his forehead. "Please don't die before I get back."

  She followed the magic signature of her locket into the woods.

  Philippe's left arm, the one he'd been using to ward off the creature-thing with the sharp claws, went cold, then numb.

  "Can you help me?" he asked Lucia, who squatted beside him, her hands over his stomach.

  She shook her head. "I'm sorry. You've lost too much blood, and that along with the power of the locket are killing you." She folded her jacket and put it under his head. He accepted her gesture of comfort even though it didn't help.

  A shout from the side of the clearing startled them both, and Philippe tried to struggle to his elbows to see what was going on, but he couldn't and flopped back.

  "What is it?"

  "Niniane is gone, but some of the nightmare creatures remain. I fear Lieutenant MacKenzie and his men are outnumbered."

  Of course they were. "Go and help them," he said. "I'll hang on for her. Don't let the nasty things get into town."

  "You're a good man." She squeezed his shoulder, rose, and disappeared into the gathering gloom.

  After Philippe had figured out he could sense ghosts, he'd wondered what it would be like to die. Would he become one? Did he want to live that afterlife, constantly missing what he'd had when he was alive? But then would death be like falling asleep, slipping into quiet darkness? Would it hurt? Would there be a bright light and angels?

  The numbness had crept from his left arm to his shoulder, and when he looked at the limb, it seemed like it belonged to someone else, the fingers stiff and fingernails black, so he turned his gaze back up to the sky—blue velvet beyond a lattice of gnarled tree limbs. He thought he should be frightened, lying there all alone, but he found his emotions to be as numb as his arm, shoulder, and now back, like he gradually sank into the ground. Maybe that was dying, just sinking away.

  A dark figure blocked his view of the sky.

  "Move over, will you?" He asked. He would have laughed if he could have. "I'm dying with a view." He closed his eyes, expecting the final blow. Or claws in his stomach. Why couldn't that part of him have lost feeling? He could still sense the locket sitting in there like a rock. Or a tumor spewing poison.

  "You don't have to, you know."

  The clipped accent and supportive yet still condescending tone made Philippe drag his eyelids open. He saw gray pant legs, the creases perfect.

  "You? I must be dead."

  Something gently lifted him, then propped him up against one leg of the stone bench. The man came into view again, crouching on one knee. Philippe wondered if he would have to pay extra to get the dirt and mulch out of his suit.

  "You're not, but you're almost there. What happened to your girl? Did you do what I said?"

  Philippe nodded. "I held on as long as I could. And she did rescue me. But then I let her go so she could retrieve her locket." He blinked against the blurring of his vision. "It was the last thing I could do to protect her."

  "Then you demonstrated true love. Would you like another chance? More time to help her figure out how to break her curse?"

  Warmth spread through Philippe's limbs—that familiar tease of hope. "How?"

  The man had never opened his mouth more than he absolutely had to in order to form his words, even when smiling. But now he grinned, showing fangs. Philippe attempted to scramble away, but his legs wouldn't obey him. He barely managed a foot twitch.

  "Join me," the man said. "You will have forever."

  Philippe's head slumped of its own accord, but his thoughts raced along on his final surge of adrenaline. If he were a dark creature, he could aid Maggie from the other side. And help her with her curse. They'd have forever.

  "Yes." He barely formed the words with his lips, but the man heard. He yanked Philippe's head back and licked his neck.

  "You've barely got any left," he complained. "But it will have to do for now."

  "It will have to do for now," Philippe agreed. He closed his eyes at the sensation of the man's fangs entering his artery and thought about the times he'd said that phrase. In the hospital after he'd swallowed the locket and Maggie had told him about her curse. After she'd rejected his romantic dinner. Well, he'd have to do for now, at least for her.

  "Now drink."

  Philippe had seen enough vampire movies to know what he should do, but he resisted. Did he really want to do this? But the man pushed his wrist into Philippe's mouth, and after the first drop went down his throat, he couldn't resist.

  The change started from his stomach out, burning his old self and leaving nothing but ash and despair and…

  And Philippe clenched his hand around the locket that appeared in it. With his new senses and his old, he knew it was Niniane's. When he raised
his head, the night had taken on a million more shades, like the difference between black and white and Technicolor. The sounds of the small creatures burrowing in the dirt under the concrete bench legs distracted him for a moment, but the man pulled Philippe's head back and looked into his eyes.

  "Good. It worked. Now the locket?" He held out his hand.

  "No." Philippe shook his head to emphasize his words. "It doesn't belong to you. Maggie needs it in case Niniane gets un-banished."

  "You fool!" The man picked Philippe up by the throat and held him up so Philippe's feet dangled. "You're still new enough I can strangle you."

  Crunching leaves heralded the arrival of two people to the clearing.

  "Philippe!" Maggie had returned. He struggled to focus on her, but his vision blurred.

  "Well met, Margaret," the vampire holding him said.

  Then he arched his back and dropped Philippe, who landed in a crouch. The man clawed at his chest, where a narrow stake protruded. He fell to the side, revealing a helmeted and goggled policeman holding a crossbow, another wooden stake-arrow loaded, and trained on Philippe's heart.

  11

  After a series of twists, turns, and scrambles through the darkening woods, Maggie caught up with the imp and had him cornered against a large oak tree when he started to disappear back to his home dimension. She reached for him, but her hand passed through him.

  "Dammit. I thought I had more time." She stepped back, and something whizzed past her. The imp rematerialized when a wooden stake impaled him on the tree, and she snatched the locket from its limp claws before turning to see who had helped her. She couldn't help a smile when she saw one of the cops standing there with a small crossbow.

  "Thank you," she said.

  Charlie removed his helmet. "And thank you. I've been hunting that one, but I couldn't get a clear shot until you cornered him." He walked over to her. "Are you okay?"

  She put the locket on and sighed as the tension drained out of her at having it back on her person. Then guilt crashed over her when she remembered Philippe.