The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) (28 page)

“Don’t speak of things you don’t know, Poppet. They’ll only bring you grief,” he warned.

Straightening, Poppy rolled her head on her neck, easing the tense muscles and taking another deep, pain-free breath.

“How much more grief-ish does it get if my soul’s going to be sacrificed? So c’mon, Avis. Just tell me, what brought this on—this desire to be a wizard? This need for the ultimate power? What does a wizard do anyway but wear robes and pointy hats? And by the way, you didn’t answer my question. Was it a woman? Someone you loved who didn’t love poor little Avis back?”

As she peered around the corner, she noted he was definitely becoming angry. The lines on his face were harsh as he stepped from the shadows, the purse of his lips tight. “I said, leave it alone, Poppy.
Leave. It. Alone
.”

Fat chance. She tested her knees, bending them, flexing them for her planned steamroll—until Avis stopped her preparation in its tracks.

“You know, you didn’t ask me about Yash.”

“But I did ask you about Yash. At the diner, Avis.” The moment she said the words was the moment her heart picked up, kicking into overdrive. Why was Yash such a big deal?

And then she remembered the picture of the three of them in front of Littleton, and how pained Yash’s eyes had looked.

“But you didn’t ask me why I’d seek his spirit when he betrayed Rick so callously. I mean, surely you’d ask yourself why he’d help Rick’s friend if he didn’t help Rick. You didn’t even ask why he’d toy with fate to help Rick. That’s a significant part of this story.”

Closing her eyes, she already knew the answer, but she was going to ask the question as she continued to limber up with a silent ballet plie squat. “I don’t want to steal your thunder, Avis. You go ahead and shine on, Superstar.”

He chuckled. “You’ve been a peach about indulging me. Thank you for that, Poppy.” Shaking his arms out, much in the way she was doing, he said, “Yash found out what I was up to. He knew what those stones meant. He intuitively sensed the spell I placed on everyone here. He was going to blow the whistle. I couldn’t have that.”

“And then…?”

“And then I planted evidence proving he’d stolen our money, which again, another simple spell. And then I murdered him.”

It was the last straw. The last bit of filthy gleeful statement she could allow him to spew from his mouth, the last second she could stand to hear his voice.

Rage filled her and took over, and without another thought, Poppy charged him, running at him like some demented bull and crashing into his midsection.

Avis folded in half, his torso collapsing as she drove him against the wall of the lobby until she felt the satisfying crack of his frame against the wall.

She landed on him, moving quickly to straddle him as she gathered up his shirt in her fist and laid one square on his jaw, the crack of his flesh so exhilarating, she almost cheered.

He lay immobile, his breathing shallow enough that Poppy took a deep breath of relief and began to climb off him, ready to make a break for the entryway doors and get help.

And that’s when shit got real.

“
D
id you hear him?” Calamity hissed. “He’s as GD whacked-ass, certified nutter! We have to find a way to get in there!”

On Calamity’s instruction, they’d crept toward the doors to listen to what was happening in order to form a plan. As Rick heard Avis go on and on about how he’d tricked the tenants of Littleton, almost killed Mr. Rush with a stroke, and murdered Yash, rage had simmered deep inside him—deep and hateful.

Poppy had been right. Her intuition had been right…and he’d been a fool. All these years, all this time.

Now, as he watched in horror while Avis used spell after spell to toss Poppy around like a ragdoll, they couldn’t get inside. He’d somehow created a barrier, keeping everyone out.

The wind howled, leaves blew, and his stomach turned as his fear grew.

“Wait!” he whispered as inspiration struck. He’d once seen Yash instruct two witches in the art of attacking a spell from two different sides, using their wands. “I have an idea. Nina, please tell me you have your wand.”

She yanked it from her back pocket and held it up, but her eyes were confused. “And what do you want me to do with the fucking thing? Turn water into wine? That’s as good as it gets with me right now.”

January’s eyes widened, her hand gripping his arm in her excitement. “I know what you’re going to suggest. Yes! Good plan!” she cheered. “Nina, just do as I say. Rick, you and Calamity focus your minds on breaking this spell. We’re going to need every bit of magic between us. Marty, Wanda, Darnell, the second I give the all clear, make a break for the door. The more people in there trying to get her out, the better. We cannot let him put those stones together, or all hell will break loose. Literally.”

Nina placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “You stay here, Buckeroo. Got it?”

He grunted his consent, patting her on the arm before she turned to January, her eerily beautiful face bathed in determination. “Tell me what to do, Doc.”

As January positioned them, Rick caught a glimpse of the moon, its hue beginning to change, ramping up his fear Avis would kill Poppy. But if it was the last thing he did, he’d get her the hell out, and he’d avenge Yash’s death.

No matter how he had to do it.

* * * *

Avis lifted his hand again, using his magic to slam her against the floor until she was certain she’d broken a rib.

Then something caught his attention, a flash of light from outside the building. Flashes of yellow and purple, two bright beams of light aimed at the entryway. That moment of distraction was exactly the moment she needed. If she could just get to the stones, maybe break one, would it help thwart the summoning of the spirits?

Lifting herself from the ground, Poppy catapulted toward the first stone she could get her hands on, the acute stab of pain in her ribs amplified when she attempted to knock one off the pillar.

But Avis was quicker, and with another lift of his hand, he slammed her back against the far wall.

Poppy screamed out her frustration, yelped as her head cracked against the wall and snapped back. “
Stop!
” she bellowed. Goddammit, where was all that errant magic she’d been throwing around earlier this week? Why couldn’t she turn him to stone?

But she realized, as she slid down the wall, she had no idea how she’d done it to begin with.

Avis began to push the last pillar into place, using his shoulder, clenching his teeth as he hardened his jaw from the strain.

Her pulse crashed in her ears, her terror at what was to come if she couldn’t stop him forcing her to push harder. Using her palms, she crawled her way up the wall, gasping for breath, each inhale an agony all its own.

“
Nooo!
” she screamed, lunging for him in an arc of air and pure determination, landing at his feet and grabbing for them, tripping him.

But it was too late. It was too damn late. Rather than hinder him from pushing the last stone into place, she helped him, knocking Avis’s upper body into the pillar.

The click of that last stone falling into place, the burnt umber of the moon as it came into its own, resonated around the room, hissing a sigh of blissful satisfaction.

There was a small moment of eerie silence when the world stood still. When the horror of what had just occurred held its breath.

And that’s when the screeching started. Out of every corner of the lobby, out of the stairwell, from every closed window, black, insidious shadows appeared, their snarls and cries reverberating, echoing.

They dove for her all at once, snapping at her, opening their unhinged jaws until she stared into the abyss of blackness. Long, knobby fingers grabbed at her, tearing at her sweater, ripping her skin.

Screaming, she fought them off with a screech of fear, using her fists, kicking at them as they battered her, toying with her, scratching at her face.

“Poppy!” someone yelled over the howl of freezing wind and flying entities.

Her eyes sought the voice just as one of the spirits dragged her upward by the back of her sweater.

But then Rick was there, grabbing at her feet and yanking her from the clutches of the spirit, pulling at her legs until she thought they’d detach.

She landed in his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck and falling against him in semi-relief, until she heard Calamity’s voice.

“Rick! Get the fuck out of the way!”

Rick lobbed her over his shoulder, making her cry out from the pain in her ribs, and ran toward the entryway, but a spirit waited for him, one whose teeth gnashed as he sprayed drool.

A flash of Marty in werewolf form skidded across her line of vision as she attacked the spirit, sinking her teeth into it just as Darnell clapped his hands together, making the room shake, and turning the spirit to a pile of ash.

Wanda and Nina bum rushed a group of ghouls, their cackles racing around the room, whirring in her ears as they took pleasure in swatting the women down until January zapped them with her wand.

Poppy struggled to free herself from Rick’s shoulder so she could help as the world fell apart around them. The air, thick with the stench of death, grew more oppressive, choking her.

In the middle of this chaos, in the height of an all-out war, Avis appeared out of nowhere, that clown-like smile on his face. As flames burned behind him and the lobby began to crumble in chunks, he pointed at Rick. “Old chap—so glad you could join the party. You work too hard, old man.”

As though in slow motion, Rick set her down on the ground, his wide chest heaving, his thick thighs flexing before he said with dead calm, “I’m going to kill you, Avis. I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it.”

Without warning, without preamble, Rick let out a rebel yell, racing at Avis until their bodies made contact and he had him on the ground. His arm swung high, preparing to slug Avis—until Avis disappeared, leaving Rick’s fist to crash to the cracking marble floor.

As Rick howled his frustrated rage, Avis used it to his advantage, reappearing right in front of Poppy. There was no time for her to scream, no chance to send out a warning before he snatched her up like pulling a flower from the soft earth and ran.

Poppy clawed at his arm, using her nails to dig into the flesh, but Avis couldn’t be stopped. He headed straight for the stairwell, his arm around her waist, taking the steps two at a time as though she weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

Her feet dragged painfully against the stairs, the backs of them bashing into hard metal until she lost her ballet slippers and her feet were bare.

Someone screamed, “He’s got Poppy, and he’s headed up to the roof! Don’t let him get to the roof!”

Which made her pause. What was on the roof?

Don’t panic, Poppy. Use what’s inside you
, a voice whispered in her ear.

Debris from the falling chunks of the building hit them on their way up flight after flight of stairs, Avis’s grunts resonating against the walls, but he kept hauling her upward as the voice insisted she act.

It’s all there, Poppy—use it!

When they reached the top of the steps and pushed through the door, he dumped her without ceremony on the scratchy roof tiles, the glow of something far brighter than the moon forcing her eyes upward.

Poppy’s mouth fell open.

The spire she’d so loved had turned into a raging inferno. Screams tore through the sky, spirits clung to it, cackling their glee while their wispy bodies blew in the cold air like flags.

The spire
. The spire was the center of all this—a portal. The clarity of the answer hit her. This was what January had been talking about. The spire was a portal to the spirit world.

As she attempted to scramble backward and away from the sight before her, Avis grabbed the back of her sweater and began pulling her toward the spire.

“Let me go, you crazy bastard!” she yelled, punching up at his arms, arms much stronger than she’d ever thought possible.

Her heels were raw from digging into the roof’s shingles to thwart Avis, on fire by the time he lobbed her at the base of the spire.

But Avis was determined, crazed with strength and tenacity. Gripping either side of her sweater, his eyes glazed with his victory, he yelled over the roar of the inferno. “This is it, Poppet! The time is here!”

Her eyes flew upward even though she wanted to hide them; they were forcefully drawn to the screech of something, a screech laced with tormented rage.

Holy, holy hell. This must be what he was sacrificing her to. This mottled, horned, winged monster, clinging to the front of the spire by his clawed toes.

Poppy! Use what’s inside you. Use it now!

“Use what?” she screamed out in frustration as sweat poured into her eyes, her throat raw and aching, her ribs burning with white-hot ripples of pain. “
What do you want me to use?”

But she didn’t hear the answer as Avis rose up, his eyes aglow, his hands raised to the sky. “This is my sacrifice! Take her!”

With those words, the demon swooped down, his wings flapping in graceful slashes of air, and snatched her up.

“Popppyyy!” She heard a stilted cry just as she was lifted from the ground. “No, Popp-yyy!”

Carl? Oh my God, was that Carl?

“Get out, Carl!” she heard herself scream. “Run, Carl, run!”

The moment she felt the claws of the demon sink into her arms, she caught a glimpse of yellow, a thick thread of light, zigzagging across the sky and zapping the demon.

“I will fuck you up!” Nina roared, her wand high in the air.

Marty and Wanda stood behind January, as though bracing her, and then her wand was flashing colors, shooting a cannonball of flames at the demon as she snapped backward against the women, falling against them from the force of her wand’s magic.

The demon’s scream ripped through the night, bellowing his anguish at the hit, but still he climbed higher, using his wings as leverage, pumping the air.

Use what’s inside, Poppy! Fight your fear and use what’s inside!