Harley Merlin 2: Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins Page 14

  “Listen, I don’t trust Garrett,” he added.

  That statement brought me to a halt. I turned to face him. “Why do you say that?”

  Concern gnawed at my stomach, and I wasn’t sure whether that was me or Wade. I still had a long way to go with honing my Empathy readings.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I’m thinking that if Katherine Shipton really is involved with the Ryder twins, then we can’t trust anyone outside our little circle. Besides, you can’t read Garrett’s emotions, and you couldn’t read Finch’s, either. Garrett was best friends with Finch, who turned out to be Katherine Shipton’s son. I may have been friends with Garrett in the past, but he’s not the guy I used to know. I just don’t trust him.” He let out a tired sigh. “Is any of this making sense to you? Because, in my head, it does.”

  I thought about it for a moment. He made a couple of fair points, but the situation wasn’t all that simple. “I specifically remember the stunned look on Garrett’s face when Finch was revealed as the Bestiary’s saboteur. It looked genuine. Also, let’s not classify everyone whose emotions I can’t feel as evil. I doubt my Empathy works like that. If we’re to follow that reasoning, then Tobe is partially evil, because I can’t feel most of him. Preceptor Sloane Bellmore would be evil, too. Imogene Whitehall…”

  The mere mention of her name made Wade straighten his back and lit green fires in his eyes. I couldn’t help but giggle, though there was an underlying nagging feeling that I couldn’t quite shake on this topic.

  “Good Lord, you have such a crush on her,” I added, laughing lightly. Deep down, I wasn’t really laughing.

  “Yeah, you might be right about the Empathy part,” he replied, ignoring the crush remark. “You said you don’t feel a bunch of other magicals in the coven, either.”

  “Exactly. As far as Garrett is concerned, I’m not saying he’s 100 percent innocent, nor that he has anything to do with this. Nothing is certain at this point. But nothing stops you from talking to him and at least airing out the closets, getting rid of the skeletons… You know, what reasonable adults do when there’s conflict.”

  He seemed to relax as I said that. It was as if he’d been hoping I’d debunk this whole Garrett suspicion. Wade had once cared about Garrett, deeply, but their friendship had fallen apart. I didn’t expect to fix it and make it right, but they could at least talk about it.

  Speaking of getting unpleasant stuff out of the way, I’d been thinking about something lately, involving Katherine Shipton and Finch, and decided to share it with Wade as we reached the magnolia trees in the middle of the dome.

  “Listen, I want to go down into the dungeons and talk to Adley,” I said.

  Wade didn’t seem surprised. He smirked, instead. “We don’t have dungeons, Harley. We have a basement. This isn’t a medieval castle, with dark towers, dungeons, and alligator-ridden moats.”

  “You and your technicalities,” I grumbled. “But yeah. Adley. I want to talk to her about everything that happened. It’s been long enough. She’s had time to stew, and I’ve had time to clear my cluttered head. If Katherine Shipton is planning a comeback with the Ryder twins or something, I think it’s now more important than ever that I gather as much intel on that witch as possible. That includes talking to Adley de la Barthe. Maybe even Finch.”

  “I doubt Alton would let you go to Purgatory to talk to Finch, but I don’t see a problem with speaking to Adley,” Wade replied. “But you’ll have to be careful, Harley. She’s a seasoned witch. She could’ve been faking some of her emotions, knowing you’re an Empath. She could’ve known all about Finch’s plans from the very beginning, then lied about it to avoid Purgatory. The only reason she’s here is because we couldn’t get her to confess to that. We managed to sentence her to a year in the basement for failing to meet regulations, since she didn’t register Finch as a Shapeshifter after his Reading. Had we been able to take her down for conspiracy to commit murder through the gargoyles, she would’ve been tossed into Purgatory without so much as an appeal.”

  He made a fair point. I, too, had been aware of the possibility. But I also had confidence in my ability to read people with my Empathy. It was a link to one’s soul, in a way.

  “I get that. Still, I think I got a clear picture of her. I do think I need to talk to her,” I replied.

  Wade sighed and shook his head. There was something about him that I couldn’t quite understand. Even with my Empathy, some of his feelings escaped me, particularly at that moment, as we stood under the magnolia tree and looked at each other. I sensed concern and curiosity, but there was something else—a thread I couldn’t quite follow.

  Remembering that physical contact amplified my power, I took hold of his wrist, feeling his skin against my fingertips. Wade stilled, his expression firm as he stared at me.

  I, on the other hand, felt my knees weaken. My limbs were jelly. A wave of sweet and spicy warmth washed over me, filling me up. The sensation was incredible, like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was as if Wade’s subconscious was trying to reach out to me, to tell me a secret.

  It felt like a high of sorts, impossible to forget, as time stood still around us. I glanced at my Esprit and noticed the white pearl glowing—it was definitely amplifying this physical touch for me.

  I was glazed in liquid sunshine, until he politely pulled his hand back and looked away.

  “Sorry,” I murmured. “Sometimes I get a better feel for people when I touch them.”

  His eyes found me again. He was nervous. “And? What did you… feel?”

  Heat burst through my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. Not only because I wasn’t sure what I’d felt, but also because he didn’t seem like he really wanted to know. Whether it was my Esprit amplifying my Empathy or not, I’d gotten a glimpse of a secret Wade, a side of him he’d been working hard to keep hidden. I kind of felt bad at the thought of him knowing I’d seen it. Sometimes, concessions were okay.

  “Concern,” I replied. “I know. You’re worried. I appreciate it.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt or fooled by anyone even remotely connected to Katherine Shipton,” Wade said, his gaze softening on my face.

  Just then, my phone beeped. I’d gotten a text. “At this hour?” I croaked, then pulled my phone out to check it. “Oh… It’s from Krieger.”

  My heart was thudding. That was all me.

  “What does it say?” Wade asked.

  “He… He wants me to do the Reading tomorrow. Well, it’s after midnight already, so today. At six a.m. What kind of monster is he?” I groaned. But, at the same time, I was excited.

  “The early-bird type, clearly,” Wade replied with a smirk. “Go hit the sack, Merlin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He didn’t wait for me to respond. He glided up one of the staircases and vanished into his room. I exhaled deeply, reading Krieger’s message again. With everything that was already going on, I had to admit, this was something I was really looking forward to.

  The moment of truth.

  Fifteen

  Harley

  I was barely able to sleep. Despite the fact that I was tired, I was wound up by what had happened the previous day. The anticipation of my second Reading played a substantial part, too.

  At six in the morning, I knocked on the infirmary door. My hands were shaking, so I balled them into fists and kept them behind my back.

  When Krieger opened the door and greeted me with a bright smile, I found myself at a loss for words.

  “Good morning, Doctor,” I said, my voice barely audible.

  “Ah. Miss Merlin! Punctuality is something I value in people! Come in,” he replied, stepping aside.

  I walked into the infirmary. The white neon lights glowed overhead. Combined with the pristine walls and metallic details, it generated a brightness to which my eyes needed a few seconds to properly adjust.

  In the middle of the room was the infamous Reading chair, complete with its leather straps. I could
n’t ignore the flashbacks—my first time in this room with Adley de la Barthe, Alton, and Wade, and that big-ass syringe that could easily be used to stab and kill a medium-sized mammal.

  As if sensing my raw nerves, Krieger shut the door and chuckled. “Relax, Miss Merlin. I promised I would make the process less painful for you. I intend to keep my word.”

  “I take it you, too, experienced the monstrous jab, huh?” I replied, stopping in front of the chair.

  “Absolutely. It scars you for life,” Krieger muttered. He walked over to one of the tables on the right. It was loaded with a variety of weird-looking instruments, copper bowls, and glass bottles filled with herbs and crystals. Next to them was a large, open notebook and a long-necked desk light. By the looks of it, that was Krieger’s workspace.

  “How is your magical detector work coming along?” I asked, nowhere near ready to sit in the chair. I was equal parts excited and terrified—not of the needle this time, but of the result. This was it. My one chance to find out whether I was really a Mediocre or not. Assuming, of course, that the first Reading had been wrong or incomplete.

  “Quite well, actually. As I said before, Adley had done most of the research work. I’m simply following up on all her theories, putting each into practice. I’ve managed to identify a magical’s energy signature, and I can scan it with a device I built, based on Adley’s notes,” Krieger replied, pointing at a remote-control-looking gadget on the table, alongside the notebook. The device was wide open, its cables and circuits spilled out under a magnifying glass. “I’ve managed to compare the energy reading to blood samples from the same magicals, and I’ve identified the markers to follow for a proper Reading.”

  “Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s quite some progress.”

  Krieger beamed with pride. “Yes, it is. However, I’ve yet to figure out a way to customize the device and make it function like the Reading bowl. This is where magic and science truly intertwine, and it’s a massive headache.”

  “I’m sure you’ll crack it.”

  “Right. I don’t give up easily. There are some passages in Adley’s book that I don’t quite understand, but our libraries can surely shed some light. The magical detector won’t happen tomorrow, though.” He sighed.

  “Well, you strike me as a pretty sharp tack, Doctor. You’ll figure it out soon enough,” I murmured.

  He stared back at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. A minute passed in awkward silence before he spoke again. “So, are you going to stand there like a deer in headlights, or will you sit down and let me do the Reading?”

  I laughed nervously and gathered the courage to sit in the chair. I kept my hands in my lap, eyeing the leather restraints. Krieger took out the copper bowl with its hieroglyph etchings, along with a square tin box and a… hypodermic syringe. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of it.

  “That looks much better,” I said.

  Its stem was made of stainless steel, with runes engraved on one side, but the needle was short and extremely thin. It was nothing compared to its predecessor, the elephant tranquilizer. He placed them all on a small table, which he wheeled over to my side, and proceeded to mix the Reading ingredients in the bowl. From what I could tell, this was slightly different from my previous Reading.

  Krieger combined a variety of powdered crystals and crushed herbs in the middle of the bowl, then picked up the syringe and smiled at me. “This won’t hurt a bit,” he said. “I had this made to order in a Washington craft shop.”

  “Yeah, I get that… What’s up with all the paraphernalia, though? Adley didn’t use that before.”

  “Ah. These are all amplifiers,” he said, pointing at the bowl’s contents. “They’re meant to… let’s say, zoom in on your blood. There would be no point in doing a similar Reading again. We’d get the same results. We’re digging deeper this time.”

  Thankful that this didn’t require any leather straps, I put my forearm out, allowing Krieger to draw my blood through that slim, nifty-looking syringe. I barely felt the pinch, and it was over before I could say “Abracadabra.”He released the blood into the bowl and mixed it with a sterling silver spoon, whispering a spell. Within seconds, the dark crimson liquid flashed white, then swirled out across the hieroglyphs, drawing an intricate mandala pattern in the process.

  I had no idea what I was watching, but Krieger was dazzled by the entire display. The flash faded away, leaving behind the dried blood swirls and lines. The final result made him grunt, while I held my breath, on the edge of my seat.

  “What… Um, what does it say?” I asked.

  He cackled, as if he’d just uncovered the secrets of the universe. “I knew it!”

  “What? What did you know?”

  “It makes sense now. Why it slipped past the first Reading…” he muttered, scratching his beard and virtually ignoring me. “No one would’ve looked twice, had they not known who your parents were, at the time. After all, Mediocrity births Mediocrity, but excellence would never—”

  He stopped himself, then raised his head to look at me.

  “What?” I snapped, close to breaking into a cold sweat.

  “Miss Merlin, have you ever heard of a Dempsey Suppressor?” he asked, his tone eerily calm. I shook my head. “It was invented by Richard Dempsey, one of America’s finest preceptors of Charms and Hexes back in the 1800s. It’s a tiny little thing, a charm of sorts, able to suppress a magical’s energy and completely distort a Reading. Dempsey crafted it as an experiment with the intention of using it against dangerous magicals.”

  “Okay. I’m guessing it has something to do with me?” I asked, rather rhetorically.

  Krieger sighed, then put a hand on his hip and gave me a pitiful half-smile. “Miss Merlin, you have a Dempsey Suppressor in you.”

  “Seriously?”

  Chills trickled through my veins as I tried to wrap my head around this revelation.

  “The Dempsey Suppressor is a hidden, dirty little secret of the upper echelons in our magical society. They’re not crafted by just anyone. The knowledge behind them is reserved only for certain individuals. Given the conditions of your birth and your noble bloodline, I can only draw one conclusion from this. Your father, Hiram Merlin, former director of the New York Coven, implanted a Dempsey Suppressor in you shortly after you were born.”

  That assessment felt like a punch in the gut. I took several deep breaths, trying to imagine how that would’ve come to happen. I decided to voice my thoughts, hoping that Krieger might be able to assist me in formulating a complete reasoning.

  “I was in my father’s care until the age of three, after which I was dropped off at an orphanage here, in San Diego…”

  Krieger nodded once. “Yes. I think your father wanted you to be as normal as possible, despite your magical heritage. I suppose he wanted to keep you off the radar and out of the coven’s sight,” he explained. “The Dempsey Suppressor is certainly doing its job, Miss Merlin. There is power inside you, more than one usually finds in a witch, I should add. But it’s toned down. Muffled. Which is why you were initially labeled a Mediocre.”

  “My father used a… Dempsey Suppressor to hide me from the covens… Adley de la Barthe said that, given my limited abilities and Chaos, I’d maybe get to do one Purge in this lifetime,” I murmured, remembering my first Reading. “Since she’d thought I was a Mediocre. I guess she was wrong. I’m not a Mediocre after all.”

  “Oh, you are anything but! Miss Merlin, you are one of the most powerful magicals I’ve come across in my lifetime, and, trust me, I’ve done a lot of Readings before you. If we could find a way to remove the Suppressor, we would unleash your full potential.”

  “Wait. If?” I asked. “What do you mean, if?”

  Krieger shrugged. “The Dempsey Suppressor, in addition to being a highly complex and rarely approved charm, is also meant to be permanent.”

  My stomach dropped. I slumped in the chair, as if the burden of ages had suddenly been released on my shoulders.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t ready to resign myself to living a limited existence. My very soul was on fire, eager to discover the full extent of my power. I needed it now, more than ever, with Katherine Shipton lurking around.

  “You said you use it on dangerous magicals. I suppose you’re referring to those imprisoned in Purgatory,” I said. “But didn’t Dempsey think of a way to undo it if, say, the magical in question was proven innocent?”

  “Well, the Suppressor is only applied after a sentence is laid out,” Krieger replied. “It’s not impossible to remove it; it’s just tedious. You see, it’s a very small object, about the size of a fingernail. It’s implanted in a bone and, as the tissue regenerates, it’s difficult to detect. It often doesn’t show up on X-rays. I would recommend starting there. But then there is the question of how to remove it without harming you, physically and magically. It’s tamper-proof and requires a certain surgical skill to extract it without triggering its tamper-proof mechanisms. Dempsey thought of everything when he devised it, I’m afraid.”

  “What if I push myself? In training, I mean, and with my Esprit? Wouldn’t I ever be able to break it?” I asked.

  “I strongly advise against that, Miss Merlin. It may hurt you in ways beyond repair,” Krieger warned. “Remember, Dempsey created it to suppress exceptional but criminal magicals. Imagine what would’ve happened if any of them had been able to just bypass it with sheer willpower. It wouldn’t end well for you.”

  I felt like a deflated balloon. Krieger didn’t enjoy seeing me like that. I could feel his angst and frustration. He wanted to help me. In addition, he was insanely curious. Much like me, I was sure he wanted to see the exact limits of my Chaos powers.

  “Hiram put it there for a reason,” Krieger added. “It was meant to protect you from discovery. I must say, your powers, or at least some of them, still managed to slip through. The Dempsey Suppressor is designed to be much more powerful. Frankly, it shouldn’t even have let all four of your Elemental abilities out! Even after your first Reading, you were puzzling to most, simply because you’re a full Elemental, an Empath, and a Telekinetic. I can’t help but wonder if there’s more lying beneath that limitation…”