Harley Merlin 2: Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins Page 4

  “Harley, before you dismiss this, please go out there and watch how it’s done,” Alton said. “I can’t say it’s the best solution in every case, but it is in most. I’m sure you’ll get a better understanding of it once you’re out in the field.”

  “Just follow my lead and it’ll be fine,” Wade replied, giving me a reassuring nod. “The magicals are always safer in the coven.”

  “Especially now that we know Katherine Shipton is on the loose, right?” Raffe cut in, raising an eyebrow.

  Alton nodded. “Precisely. No foster parent can protect a magical from a witch like Katherine. We need to get to those kids before she does.”

  “So, we’re afraid Katherine will snatch them first,” I mumbled.

  “Yes, Harley. Two are already missing, and there are rumors flying around about her building an army. The purpose is yet unknown, but her record doesn’t leave room for any positive assumptions, if you know what I mean,” Alton said.

  “It’s probably linked to her wanting to become a Child of Chaos. She probably needs the magical muscle to get that kind of power,” Tatyana suggested.

  Boy, that must have been a lot of muscle, since the Children of Chaos were the very sources of our power, to which we were all deeply connected, one way or another. Chaos permeated everything, and so did the Children, extensions of raw energy like Darkness, Light, or the natural elements, among others. This was like a mere mortal looking to dethrone the ancient Ares, god of war, or Poseidon, god of the sea. Just bordering on crazy, yet somehow… seemingly doable?

  “We should stop assuming and get some facts, before anything else, where her plan is concerned,” Alton said. “Let’s focus on these kids for now. They need us.”

  My aggravation began to subside. I figured I could help bring the magicals to safety—temporarily, at least, until we fixed our Katherine Shipton problem. After that, I could push to have the kids placed back with their families if they wanted to return. They didn’t have to be glued to the coven to benefit from its protections and education.

  Wade ran a finger over the list, then looked at Tatyana. “Okay. Here’s how we do this, to cover more ground. You, Dylan, and Astrid take the right half of the list. They’re all in the east and southeast of the city. Santana, Raffe, and I will take the left. They’re on the opposite side, north and northwest,” he said, then nodded at me. “Harley, what’ll it be? Left with Tatyana or right with us? Your choice.”

  I thought about it for a minute, until I noticed that one of the addresses was close to the Smiths’ place. “I’ll go with you, Santana, and Raffe,” I said. “My foster parents are in the area. I’d like to pop by and check up on them while we’re there.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Wade replied. “Good. That being said, let’s get on with this, and meet back in my office in the evening to draw up a preliminary report.”

  “Ugh, can’t we meet somewhere bigger than a matchbox, please?” I retorted.

  Wade narrowed his eyes at me. “At least I have an office.”

  “What good is it if you hit your elbows on the walls all the time, huh?” I replied with a devilish grin. His tiny office was one of the few aspects of life in the coven that he could never clap back on. Even he’d agreed, albeit not in public, that it was ridiculously small. I knew it was a gratuitous shot, but I just reveled in riling him up once in a while.

  The others chuckled. Alton stifled a grin, then put his hands behind his back.

  “I look forward to seeing some progress,” he said. “If you need anything or if you run into any kind of trouble, call O’Halloran or Preceptor Nomura immediately. If all else fails, I’m here as well.”

  We all gave him a brief nod then left him in his office.

  Once we were out, Wade filled me in on what I needed to prepare for this mission, according to the coven’s usual protocols. Then, we agreed to meet back by the magnolia trees in the living quarters in an hour, to give ourselves some time to suit up and plan our routes, based on the addresses in the file. We each snapped photos of the list before spreading out and returning to our rooms.

  Suits were needed for this kind of mission, since we were meant to impersonate Social Services employees on a routine checkup of the foster kids. It was the most inconspicuous way in which we could insert ourselves into new magicals’ lives without alarming the adoptive or foster parents. The coven issued some phenomenally well-crafted ID cards for this type of work.

  Heck, we’d pulled off Homeland Security during our Bestiary investigation. Social Services was going to be a breeze.

  Four

  Harley

  The one thing I’d forgotten to do in the morning was check the dreamcatcher. Tobe had been kind enough to give it to me on the off chance it might help me remember something about my life before the orphanage.

  It was a charmed dreamcatcher, with black beads and red, peacock-like feathers. I hung it above my headboard at night and whispered an old Navajo word to activate it. Once I fell asleep, it captured all my dreams—and boy, was my head a pile of weird or what?

  As I slipped into a dark gray pantsuit, matched with a simple white shirt and black leather flats, I thought I’d have a look at what I’d dreamed the night before. I was pleased to see that the nightmares had subsided, ever so slightly, no longer dominating my sleep with gruesome gargoyles tearing the flesh from my bones.

  I’d had plenty of those during the first two weeks after the incident. I’d dreamed of Adley and Finch kissing, then laughing at me as they tossed me into Quetzi’s glass box in the Bestiary. That ancient Aztec snake had eaten me alive more times than I could count. Sometimes, I dreamed of Ryann and the Smiths, and a future vacation in Maui. Even there, the gargoyles found me.

  In the midst of all this, however, there were barely any earlier memories resurfacing. I kept dreaming the same scene with my dad holding me and his sister, Isadora, telling him to get away before they caught him. By “they,” I assumed she meant the covens. After all, my dad was a wanted man for killing my mom and other magicals at the time.

  I had to admit, I was a little frustrated with the dreamcatcher, though I only had my brain to blame for not digging deeper into my subconscious. Then, as I experienced the full audio-visual of my last dream for the previous night, my breath hitched.

  “Holy crap,” I murmured, suddenly finding myself sitting in a small living room with cream walls and white curtains.

  The sun inundated the room, casting a golden glow on everything, including the satiny fabric of my teeny-tiny straw-yellow dress. My little hands and bare feet made me realize that I was still a toddler, sitting in… my father’s lap, in one of the armchairs. The image around me was incredibly crisp, better than what I’d seen before through the dreamcatcher.

  “Look at that,” my dad said, showing me a photo of him and my mom.

  I teared up, recognizing the ballroom photograph I’d found in my mom’s trinket box, along with my Esprit and the deck of cards. I heard myself coo and gurgle, reaching out with my chubby little fingers to touch the photo.

  “That’s Mommy and Daddy, Harley. Before all the hurt happened.”

  My dad’s voice was broken and shaky. I looked up at him. The toddler version of me saw him as the familiar face, the savior and caregiver. The grownup me, however, saw a handsome and tormented man, with teary blue eyes like mine and thick, black hair. I was so conflicted at that moment. It hurt worse than when Finch slammed me into the banquet hall ceiling shortly before he let all the gargoyles out.

  “We were happy then, sweetie,” he added, smiling. “You weren’t even in the plan yet, but, boy, were we happy to learn you’d join us in this world!”

  Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gripped the dreamcatcher’s leathery edges and prayed to all the possible gods that this dream wouldn’t end abruptly, like the others. This was as close as I would ever get to my dad. Yes, he was a murderer, by all accounts, but… he was still my father, and he seemed so sweet and kind. So different from
the homicidal maniac he’d been described as before.

  “You know, if I could go back, I would do it all again,” my dad whispered. It felt so strange, as if he were actually standing next to me, his lips just an inch away from my ear. “I would fall in love with Hester again… I’d marry her. I’d watch you grow in her womb. Hold you in my arms on your first day. Kiss you goodnight and do my damned best to make this world a better place for you. I’d do it again, baby girl…”

  “Isn’t there something you’d change, though?” A female voice made my father raise his head.

  I instantly recognized her. Isadora Merlin, his sister. The blue eyes, the long black hair, the ivory skin. Yes, I’d seen her before. Even as a toddler, I seemed to remember her. I was happy to see her, too.

  My father sighed, before giving her a weak smile. “I think we both know what I would change,” he replied.

  “But you can’t, Hiram,” Isadora replied, looking equally heartbroken.

  Were they talking about Mom? Katherine?

  “I can’t dwell on it, either,” he said. “But I can still take care of my little girl and make sure she’s safe until I find a way to stop all this.”

  “You’re a danger to her, Hiram. You know that.”

  “I can handle it!” my dad snapped, then lowered his voice when he noticed my anxiousness. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

  “Barely, but…”

  Isadora’s voice faded away.

  “No. No! No!” I croaked, gripping the dreamcatcher’s edges even tighter. My palms were sweating and my heart was thumping, struggling against my ribcage. “No. Please, don’t stop! I need to know!”

  I couldn’t control the flow of my dream, though. It had already gone, dissipated into darkness prior to me waking up. That was definitely a memory I’d just seen. Not a nightmare or a Salvador Dali-type dream. It was an HD memory, better than the one I’d fished out before, from the murky depths of my subconscious.

  It left me with a ton of questions. My watch beeped twice.

  “Time to go. Dammit,” I muttered, then put the dreamcatcher under the bed, grabbed my phone and keys, and walked out to meet the rest of my team.

  I looked forward to the evening already, knowing I’d have a chance to sit down and read through my parents’ file. Maybe there was something there that would answer the new questions I had. What did my father think that he could “handle”? What was it that he would’ve gone back in time to change, if given the opportunity?

  Was it what he’d done to my mother? His affair with Katherine Shipton?

  I wiped my tears and glided down the stairs, focusing on the present. The past wasn’t going anywhere. The answers were there, waiting for me to find them. In the meantime, however, there were magicals who needed my help and the coven’s protection.

  My parents were gone. But Katherine Shipton was still around and eager to wreak more havoc.

  Five

  Harley

  Wade drove us in his black Jeep.

  I missed my Daisy, but after the gargoyle incidents, my beloved Mustang had been reduced to a pile of junk metal. I owed Murray the gargoyle for that, and I planned to repay him in kind. He was back in the Bestiary, super secured in his charmed glass box, but that didn’t stop me from plotting my revenge. To be honest, the one responsible was Finch, who’d let Murray out in the first place, and he was pretty much taken care of already. But there was a hole left in my heart, and I figured that pranking the hell out of the monster that had destroyed my car might help fill it, even if just temporarily.

  We were headed toward Sunset Cliffs, one of the finer areas of San Diego, composed mostly of one- or two-story houses and direct access to the ocean. It was beautiful and sunny in these parts, with short palm trees sprawling out of front yards and music blasting from some of the backyards—it was a Saturday, and the weather was perfect for a barbecue. I could even smell the charcoal burning through the open windows.

  “We’re about ten minutes away,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “What do we know about these people?” Santana asked from the backseat.

  I’d been sly enough to call shotgun as soon as we’d gotten to the Jeep. For that, I’d also been trusted with a copy of the file. I flipped through its pages and read some of the information out loud, for both Raffe and Santana to hear. Knowing Wade, he’d already memorized it all, word for word, since he was the poster child of the overachiever.

  “Micah Cranston, aged five,” I said. “Has been in the foster system since he was two. Bounced around for a while, until he turned three and was adopted by Susan and Larry Cranston. He’s been with them since. Mom’s a teacher. Dad’s a construction foreman. It says here they both have fertility issues, which is why they chose to adopt. They’ve each got a 401(k), and they’re already saving up for his college fund. They sound like good people.”

  I was already getting sucked into my humane side, the one that didn’t want to separate a child from his parents. Even though I was aware of the threat surrounding his life here, I couldn’t bring myself to even think of taking Micah away. There had to be another way.

  Of course, I was annoyed with myself. I’d thought I’d already made a concession over this, but my heart, the fickle and treacherous little organ that it was, had decided to sabotage my reasoning.

  “What incidents led the coven to believe he’s a magical?” Raffe asked.

  “Oh. Um, wow,” I said, raising both eyebrows as I scanned a witness account. “Objects levitating and swirling around him. This happened more than once. His parents moved him to a new kindergarten after three repeat incidents.”

  “That’s all?” Wade replied.

  “What? That’s not enough? Do you want him to pull the San Andreas Fault and reorganize California’s landscape before he’s deemed a magical?” I chuckled.

  “No, Miss Snappy, I just thought he might have been manifesting other abilities, too,” Wade said.

  I turned the page on Micah’s file. “Nope. That’s all we have. A Reading would give us more.”

  “Do we know anything about his biological parents?” Wade replied.

  I shook my head. “Left at an orphanage by a stranger. No birth certificate, nothing.”

  “Okay, that’s a little odd,” Santana chimed in. “Has anyone checked the hospital records for any missing babies? I assumed they have an estimated birthday for the boy.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Santana. “No one checked anything. He just popped up on the grid when he was one year old.”

  “Someone must’ve taken care of him until then,” Wade mused, scratching his chin. The sunlight made his sterling silver rings twinkle for a moment. It reminded me of something, but I wasn’t sure what, exactly. It was just one of the many eerie and impossible to describe flashbacks I’d been having lately while fully conscious. “We should definitely look into this,” he added.

  “Let me guess, I get the research gig?” I scoffed, turning another page on Micah’s file.

  Wade smirked. “You’re the rookie, so of course.”

  “Hey, remember what Alton said!” Santana jokingly warned him, though I wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

  “Zip it, Santana,” Wade groaned, rolling his eyes.

  “What?” I asked, slightly amused.

  “Santana, I’m serious. Shush,” Wade insisted, ignoring my question.

  I looked at her again and found her grinning. She waited for a few seconds, occasionally checking Wade’s expression in the rearview mirror, then dragged the cat out of the bag. “Alton told Wade to be super extra nice to you so you’re more inclined to stay with the coven. I was just reminding him that giving you the grunt work doesn’t exactly qualify as ‘being nice.’”

  Wade let out a long, frustrated sigh, briefly scowling at Santana through the rearview mirror.

  “She needs to go through all the hoops we went through, Santana. That includes some paperwork,” he replied firmly. “Just because Alt
on really wants her to stay doesn’t mean she shouldn’t learn some things the hard way like the rest of us.”

  My heart swelled a little. “Aww. Alton wants me to stay.”

  “Duh! We all do!” Santana retorted. “Even Mr. I’m-Too-Cool-To-Express-My-Feelings over here,” she added, nodding at Wade.

  That I could sort of agree with. Something had changed between Wade and me since Finch had been apprehended. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but our dynamic felt somewhat different—in a good, yet troubling, way. At times, there was an intensity between us that was hard to figure out. It made my heart flutter in ways I’d never experienced before. Most of the time, however, we just seemed to really get along, between layers of sharp jokes and sarcastic remarks.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” I murmured, then pressed my lips into a thin line to stop a smile from splitting my face.

  All of a sudden, I felt nervous. That wasn’t me. That was Wade’s heart pounding and echoing into mine. He cleared his throat, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel and pulled over.

  “We’re here,” he announced.

  As soon as we got out of his Jeep and saw the lovely house and lush front yard, with two SUVs parked outside, I knew that little Micah had hit quite the jackpot with the Cranstons. He was looking at a prosperous and healthy childhood. His bike was on its side, covered in stickers and settled between two hydrangea bushes.

  Better than some southside orphanage, if you ask me.

  “I’ll take the lead,” Wade added. “You watch, you listen, and you learn. Got it?”

  I sighed deeply. “Mm-hm.”

  “Is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Oh, go already!” Santana grumbled, motioning for him to go ahead.

  My throat was already dry, and I was pretty sure I was sweating, but I could easily blame it on the weather. It was nice and hot, definitely not pantsuit temperature. Judging by the looks on Santana’s and Raffe’s faces, they weren’t too comfortable. The jackets were going to come off soon.