Sigils and spells, p.6
Sigils & Spells, page 6
My claim is partially true—after all, improperly harvested mandrake plants lose their magical properties fairly quickly.
But the main reason I want to get the plant myself is that I’m hoping to let someone know what’s going on in this nightmare lab.
That hope is instantly quashed, though, when Ivan says, “Fine. Dr. Fitton will accompany you. And Jake will drive you.”
Jake—the hyena-man who tossed me into this cage the night before—leers at me from where he stands behind Ivan.
Dammit.
It’ll be more difficult to get a message out with those two watching my every move.
And to be honest, I’m not even sure who I could report Cambridge to. The police? Would they even believe that there’s a mad scientist creating hybrid shifters in his warehouse lab?
One step at a time, Evie, I tell myself.
Because I’m determined to find a way out of this hellhole, no matter how many people Ivan Cambridge has watching me.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on your friend here,” Ivan tells me, gesturing at Angel. “Make one wrong move and he dies.”
The shiver down my back tells me that his threat is absolutely real. He would follow through on it without a moment’s hesitation.
I nod and follow Jake out the door.
I sit in the back seat of a black SUV, my arms crossed over my chest as I stare out the window. I’ve given Jake directions to the market on 35th Street, the one that looks like a health food store but houses an entire stock of witches’ supplies in the back room.
Dr. Fitton keeps trying to engage me in conversation, but I’m not interested in talking to him. He’s apparently fine with the fact that Ivan Cambridge is conducting experiments on humans—the kinds of experiments that lead to the test subjects’ deaths.
Or malformed, like Jake.
When we get to the market, Jake pulls a hoodie on, using it to obscure his features.
Because even in his fully human form, there’s still obviously something wrong with him. I can’t believe he doesn’t want to take down Cambridge himself. But he seems completely loyal to his monstrous boss.
“Evie!” Lucy, the market owner, calls out as I walk into the shop. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She frowns as she examines my face. “Are you okay?”
I force a smile. “Fine, thanks. I’m just stopping by to pick up some mandrake root. Preferably harvested with silver under a full moon.”
Lucy nods. “I’ve got some in the back. Wait here.”
She disappears for a moment and returns carrying a clear glass jar with the root inside.
“This one’s pretty potent,” she warns me. “I wouldn’t handle it without gloves.”
Peering at it through the glass, I examine the root carefully, sending a tiny spark of magic running through it to test its purity.
I’m shocked by the results. Since my night with Angel, my powers seem to have grown almost exponentially. That single spark gives me a wealth of information.
“This is exactly what I need,” I tell her.
I don’t know if the root will completely stabilize the potion, but it should at least enable the subjects to shift. As I consider the options, it occurs to me that I might be able to develop a second potion, this one purely magic, that will stabilize them, keep Ivan’s shifters from going mad.
It’s definitely going to have to be a two-step process, though.
Jake pulls out a corporate credit card to pay, and Lucy raises her eyebrows as she reads the company name. Her gaze flicks up at me, and I want more than anything to tell her to call the police, but even as I’m thinking it, Jake looms behind me, his mere presence an implicit threat.
So in the end, I simply say, “Thanks,” then take my purchase and follow Jake back to the SUV.
By the time we get back to the warehouse, my stomach is roiling. Angel is still in the cage and Ivan is pacing as he waits for my return.
As I begin preparing the mandrake, I explain to Fitton and Cambridge about my idea for a two-step process. “So this potion,” I say, gesturing at the vial of pink liquid, “will induce the change. And the next one will stabilize the shifters. Once I’m done with it, no one should have to ever die again from one of your tests.”
Ivan clasps his hands together under his chin and nods. “Excellent. I’ll be in my office. Let me know when this first potion is finished.”
Lucy was right—the mandrake requires careful handling, both magically and to keep its poison from soaking in through my pores.
But two hours later, an updated version of the potion is complete. Like the last one, this potion can be created in small batches and then replicated.
Dr. Fitton calls Ivan back in.
My boss—now also my captor—examines the vial Dr. Fitton hands him. “It doesn’t look any different from the last batch,” he notes.
“It does to me,” I say. “On a magical, cellular level.”
“And how long will it take you to make a stabilizing potion?” Ivan asks.
“A few days maybe? A week? I’m not entirely sure.” But I know that if I don’t make the second potion, Ivan will keep trying, killing more people in the process.
“Well. Let’s see if we can speed that up a bit,” Ivan says. “Angel, you’re up. Come take this.”
“No!” I protest, and lunge toward Ivan, some half-baked plan to grab the vial away from him running through my mind.
But before I can get to my boss, Jake, who has been sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, stands up and backhands me.
He’s stronger than he looks, and I fly across the room, crashing into a wall and sliding down to land in a crumpled heap on the floor.
“Stop.” Angel’s voice echoes through the lab. “Promise not to hurt her again and I’ll take it.”
“And if you don’t take it, I’ll have her killed,” Ivan promises.
“You can’t,” I say to Angel, my tone turning pleading. “I can be certain this version won’t kill you.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment “I trust you,” he says.
Ivan laughs in delight. “Here you go.” He picks up a lab glove and uses it to open the cage door, letting Angel step out into the lab.
“Angel! No,” I beg. “Don’t take it. It’s not ready yet.”
Angel turns to me and shakes his head. “I have to. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Evie.”
“Then live for me,” I beg him.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s not going to kill me. I’m stronger than that.” And with that, he upends the bottle, draining it in one gulp.
CHAPTER 14
ANGEL
The elixir tastes as bad as it looks, and I almost vomit as soon as the taste hits my tongue, but I force myself to flush it through my system. I don’t need Ivan taking my reaction as some sign of refusal and taking it out on Evie.
I’m doing this for her.
I watch as her eyebrows furrow, as her face falls and her eyes fill with tears. I half expect to start smoking any moment like Q did, but I feel … fine.
Aside from a little queasy, I don’t feel any different. Ivan grins, the light in his icy blue eyes making him look every bit the insane evil scientist I’ve come to learn that he is.
Evie holds her breath as she looks at me.
“Well isn’t that interesting,” Ivan says as he circles me.
Dr. Fitton moves in front of me, adjusting his glasses.
“Tell me what you are feeling right now, Mr. Rodriguez. Every little detail, even the ones that seem insignificant,” he says.
I don’t look at him though. I look at Evie.
“A little nauseous, but other than that I feel fine,” I say, because it's the truth.
Maybe the potion wasn’t stable. Maybe it wasn’t a good batch, a dud.
I hold onto that notion, hoping that maybe that will save us all some time, at least until Evie can make the potion Ivan requires…
And no one gets hurt in the meantime. Time, that’s what we need. Time to execute a better plan.
Dr Fitton takes my pulse, and a part of me wants to smack him away, but I’m also certain that would only feed into their little drama act. I need to let them do what they need to, and when they see I’m fine, they’ll exit and let Evie get back to what she needs to.
“Pulse is stable,” Dr. Fitton says, looking at Ivan. They exchange a look that I can only describe as sketchy.
“Time is five minutes,” Ivan says coolly. “Most have shifted by this point.”
“I told you it wasn’t ready…” Evie protests. Ivan looks at her with a vicious grin.
“Or perhaps,” his voice deepens, echoing into a strange growl as I watch him crack his neck. The veins there bulge and I notice his muscles start to stretch, and the distinct sound of bones crunching and snapping pops in the silence of the room.
I’m horrified by the sight, but I can’t look away, like a train wreck. He’s one of them.
My hackles rise and my blood races beneath my skin. I can feel my own muscles contracting, tendons pulling, and the queasiness gives way to something else, something different.
Hunger.
My mouth runs dry and my shoulders tense as I stare at the half-man half-beast in front of me.
“…perhaps our dear Angel just needs a gentle push in the right direction," Ivan says, his voice some garbled mishmash of demonic and human.
And then like some god damned Power Ranger, his entire body snaps, crackling and popping as his clothing tears apart at the seams, making way for thicker, furrier muscles. His waist bends and breaks until he’s hunched on the floor, claws digging at the concrete. When he rears his head, he isn’t human anymore.
He’s a wolf. A large monstrous wolf with those same cold, icy mad eyes, and I am powerless to stop what happens to me.
Inside my brain I know the wolf in front of me is a threat to me, to my mate.
Mate?
I’ve never called anyone a mate before, but this sudden, possessive voice in my brain knows without a doubt in the world that is what she is.
Mine.
And the moment Ivan’s glacial gaze drifts to Evie, it happens. Like a firecracker exploding on impact I feel my entire being shift.
I know on some instinctual level that this is the only way I can protect what’s mine. My bones reforge into something completely foreign, and my body temperature rises. There isn’t any scent of smoke or charred flesh, only the scent of hot saliva, of disgusting mold and mildew, of bleach.
I can smell everything in this room, feel every pulse and heartbeat that doesn’t belong to me.
I open my mouth to speak, but instead all that comes out is an angry roar.
Ivan opens his massive jaws and lets out an angry howl back, and then he lunges for Evie.
Dr. Fitton steps in, but it’s no use, Ivan throws him to the side, and he hits his head on the silver bars, falling to the ground.
Instinct takes over and I am scared to death. But the voice in my head, something so deep and full of fire tells me he’s got this.
We’ve got this.
All I need to do is give him control.
This … entity that didn’t exist before in my consciousness begs me to let him in, to let him take over. I don’t understand it, but there’s no time for a crash course. Not when Ivan is challenging me for what’s mine.
So I say yes.
What else can I say?
And the moment I let him in, it’s like I’m watching my own life from outside of it–astral projection. I’m forced into a corner of my mind, watching, feeling … but I have no control over my body or what I’m doing. Ivan tackles Evie to the ground, hissing, snarling as his jaws close around her wrist. I pounce on him, knocking him off of her with ease. He shakes his large head, growling out a ferocious sound that is neither animal nor human. I don’t waste time as I jump, forcing my large paws on his furry chest.
Paws?
Nothing is making sense and feels like a damn fever dream. Ivan bites at my neck forcing me back on the ground, and I’m caught off guard. In a split second our places are reversed, with him pinning me down, his hot breath and sharp fangs inches from my neck, where I can feel my blood rushing like a volcano full of lava.
Evie cries out, and that's what does it.
I’m powerless to control my body as it snaps back into place, my bones cracking and popping until the fur retracts, and I shrink back to what I know.
I’m acutely aware as I stare up at a large, vicious wolf face that I’m naked, bleeding, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
“Angel!” Evie shouts as she runs. Ivan purrs with contentment as he steps off of me, stepping back to shift back to himself. As I watch the process, I’m both in awe and terrified at the reality of what’s just happened. To me, to us.
What this means…
Ivan stands there, naked and fully on display with that evil shit-eating grin of his as Evie pulls me into her arms, and Dr. Fitton finds the strength to stand.
“You have one week, Evie. Do make it count. Angel’s life may depend on it,” he says as he wipes his lips of blood. My eyes dip to Evie’s wrist, where she holds me, the red crimson blood making the animal in me pace with frustration.
We were too late. He hurt what is ours … and mark our words he will pay.
If it is the last thing I do.
EPILOGUE
REED OWENS
Surely this isn’t the headquarters for WolfBane, Inc.
Once again, I check the address I noted in my phone, then compare it to the door in front of me. It’s a small space in a strip mall, bookended on either side by a hairdresser and a Chinese restaurant.
I would have expected Ivan Cambridge to have a better office than this. After all, he owns at least a third of the buildings in the city. Surely, he could come up with something more… professional.
But it’s a match to the address he gave me, so with a shrug, I tug open the glass door.
There’s no secretary inside, though there’s a desk in the front room piled high with folders and papers.
The whole place has an odd smell, strangely musty and almost animalistic.
“Reed Owens?” Cambridge himself pops his head out of a door.
“That’s me.”
“Come on back. Sorry about the mess—we’ve been working on a project that’s taken up nearly all my time.”
I follow him into an inner office, no neater than the one out front. He must have been really busy for it to have gotten this bad.
“So,” he says, taking a seat behind the desk and waving me to the single straight-backed chair in front of it, “you’re here to interview for the property manager position.”
“I am,” I say, keeping my voice calm and professional. The last thing I want to do is sound as desperate as I truly am.
This is my last chance to find a job in the city. If Cambridge doesn’t offer me a position, I’m going to have to sell my house and move somewhere cheaper.
And I don’t want to do that.
Until last year, I had a thriving commercial real estate business. Hell, I’d even sold buildings to WolfBane, though I haven’t met Cambridge himself until today. When the real estate market crashed, my sales dried up.
Now I’ve burned through most of my savings, I’ve sold off several properties of my own, and I’m down to being able to survive for only a few more months if I don’t find work soon.
Part of me wants to lean in and tell Cambridge, If you don’t give me this job, I’m screwed.
But desperation is never attractive.
So instead, I hand him a printout of my resume—even though I already emailed him a copy, I learned long ago to never trust another person to be as organized as I am—and begin highlighting my experience.
Cambridge nods as I speak, his bright blue eyes examining me closely. He doesn’t ask any questions.
When I finally wind down, he continues staring at me.
Okay. This guy is strange.
But then he says, “Can you start tomorrow?”
I blink, surprised. “Really?”
Cambridge laughs. “Really. I need someone who can start immediately, and you clearly have the kind of experience that will make you a perfect property manager.”
“That’s definitely true,” I agree. “And yes, I can start tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Cambridge’s eyes bore into me, and I have to fight the urge to squirm in my uncomfortable chair. “Meet me here at nine tomorrow morning and we’ll get started on your employment paperwork.”
I leave the messy office vacillating between euphoria—I have a job! I’m not going to have to choose between selling my paid-off home and starving to death!—and something less immediately identifiable.
Something like… fear?
Am I really afraid of Ivan Cambridge?
No, I tell myself. I’m simply nervous about starting a new job.
Nonetheless, my heart pounds as I get into my car and head home.
Because something about Cambridge seems… off. Like he’s hiding a plethora of secrets behind those icy eyes of his.
Like he might stab me in the back the second I turn away from him.
And yet, the man is my new boss.
Everything is going to be fine.
Even if I am talking to myself.
Anyway, this job is just a holdover position, something to keep the electricity on and my house stocked with food until the real estate market recovers.
It’s not going to be some kind of bizarre life-changing event.
Right?
Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! Want to find out what happens next in the Scared Shiftless world? Check out Deep Shift, Book 1 of the series. Want to read the rest of Evie & Angel’s story? Be sure to sign up to be notified when more Scared Shiftless books release!
JOIN MARGO ONLINE
