The max porter box set, p.39
The Max Porter Box Set, page 39
“Max.” A deep voice called. “Max, snap out of it.”
A pale hand appeared before his face and snapped its fingers. Without moving his head, Max followed the hand to its arm and the arm to its owner — Marshall Drummond.
“C’mon, Max. We gotta get out of here.”
“I can’t move,” he managed.
Drummond snatched a quick look at the ring — less than a foot from the book. “Sorry, pal. I hate when I have to do this to you.”
He clutched Max’s arm. The icy burn that raced through Max shocked his system. All his muscles contracted in a painful seizure, but it only lasted a second. Drummond immediately let go, and Max collapsed on the floor.
“Now, Max. Run!”
Stumbling blind into the hall like a drunkard barely able to stand, Max dashed toward the foyer. Bright orange light flashed from behind strobing his movements. When he reached the entrance, Sandra rushed towards him and scooped him into her arms.
“It’s too late,” he said. “I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t get the hand. When I saw her in there, I couldn’t move.”
“We’ll be fine,” Sandra said. “Sorry it took me so long. Enrique’s wards threw Drummond and I out of the house. It took me too long to break back in.”
“I love you. I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever screwed up.”
“Stop that. We’re not going to die today.”
Max buried his head in her shoulder. “You didn’t see her. She’s going to lay waste to all of us.”
“Honey, trust me. We didn’t fail.”
He raised his head and saw nothing but confidence on Sandra’s face. “But —”
“You had to stall long enough for me to cast my spell. And I did it. Look.”
She nudged his head to the side. In the doorway, hovering above her wheelchair, Max saw Grandma Darden — clear-eyed and angry.
He managed to stand on his own. “You really did it.” He clutched Sandra and kissed her. “You did it!”
Drummond said, “Um, don’t mean to break up the celebration, but we haven’t won yet.”
Grandma Darden floated into the foyer. “The ghost speaks true,” she said in a strong, commanding voice. “Get everyone to safety. I’ll take care of my granddaughter.” She continued to float into the living room and toward the library.
A tremor rumbled the house, and Max’s brain kicked back into life. He pointed at Chelsea. “Help get her out of here. I got Alan.”
Sandra leaned over Chelsea, murmuring kind words, and aided the weeping lady to her feet. Max went up the stairs. He put Alan’s arm over his shoulder.
“This won’t be pleasant,” he said.
Alan tried to push Max away. “Leave me alone.”
Wood splintered and cracks traveled across the walls. “This house is coming down. You need to get out now.”
“I’ll be fine. Lane will protect me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
Max tried to lift Alan again, but Alan shoved him down two steps. Part of the banister fell off. The sounds of destruction grew louder as the second floor fell apart. Several feet away, Max watched as pieces of the stained-glass dome broke free and burst on the floor like a colorful fireworks display.
Drummond soared through the wall. “Those two witches are about to rain Hellfire on each other. We’ve got to go.”
Calling upon the last of his strength, Max gripped Alan’s shirt and yanked the man toward the exit. But Alan swung his arm over the banister and held tight.
In a soft, low voice, Drummond said, “It’s okay. You tried. Some men, when they find out they’ve been on the wrong side of things, can’t deal with that truth. They’ll lie to themselves no matter what the cost. As long as they don’t have to look in the mirror and see the horror looking back.”
“Lane!” Alan cried out. “I’m here!”
Max backed up. Off to his side, plaster dropped from the living room ceiling. He put out his hand to Alan. “Please, come with me.”
“You better run. Lane’ll rip you to shreds. Lane!”
Lowering his hand and his head, Max said, “I’m sorry.” He turned away and walked out of the house.
Chapter 28
SANDRA WAVED MAX AND DRUMMOND OVER to the car parked on the far side of the courtyard. When Max reached the car, he crouched behind the hood. Chelsea sat with her back against the rear tire. She had an empty stare and tear trails running down her cheeks.
They heard a crash of glass and wood. Light flashed in parts of the house — sometimes orange, sometimes green. A window on the second floor blew outward forcing Max and Sandra to duck.
“Anybody got an idea what to do now?” Max said.
Drummond hovered over the car with his hat back and his hands in his pockets. He watched the house crumbling like a spectator at the fair. “Not much we can do,” he said. “At least, not until we see who wins. If Grandma is the one standing, then we’ll be fine.”
“And if it’s Lane?”
“Then we need a Plan B. I’m thinking run like hell and don’t look back.”
Max turned to Sandra. “You got anything more helpful than that?”
“Her power comes from that book,” Sandra said. “If we destroy the book —”
“They said it couldn’t be destroyed.”
“They also said their curses would protect the book. That didn’t go so well. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but if it comes to it, I think our choices are destroy the book or Lane destroys us.”
As if a bombed building in a warzone, the second floor of the house collapsed. It fell apart with ease like wood blocks knocked down. “Okay,” Max said. “How do we attempt to destroy the book?”
Without moving, Chelsea said, “You can’t. It’s impossible. When I was younger and I learned about my family legacy, I asked Grandma Darden how to destroy it. I figured if there wasn’t a book, there would be no need to become a witch. But she said I wasn’t the first in our family to try. As long as there have been Dardens protecting the world from that book, there have been Dardens trying to destroy it. Nobody has ever succeeded.”
Drummond said, “My Plan B is starting to sound pretty good.”
The outer wall of the living room toppled over. To Max, the resulting crash sounded much like all the others they had heard. Chelsea, however, must have heard something different. She rolled over onto her knees and squinted at the house.
“Enrique?” she said.
Before either Max or Sandra could move, before either could consider that Chelsea might react, Chelsea shot around the car and raced toward Enrique’s corpse. Sandra tried to go after her, but Max caught her wrist and pulled her back.
“There’s nothing good that’ll come from following her,” he said.
The classic pillars on the front porch cracked. Jagged pieces slid off, flipped through the air, and smashed on the steps. Finally, one of the pillars gave way. A large chunk near the bottom broke free and the entire pillar crashed through the front door.
From deeper within the house, Max heard a tormented whine. Debris from the fallen second floor erupted into the air along with dust and smoke. Water spewed out of broken pipes. Rising above it all, Lane and Grandma Darden appeared.
Both were bruised and bleeding. Both floated like ghosts. Grandma Darden sped through the air with her hands out like claws. Lane evaded the attack. Grandma Darden spun back with a throwing motion. A green globe of light pitched out at Lane but missed.
Max had never seen magic like this before, and he suspected he never would again. This was not normal witch magic. This was heightened and dark power created by that book. So much power, in fact, Lane could not contain it all, and Grandma Darden had siphoned off some of the energy for herself.
Another green globe soared out from Grandma Darden’s hands. Holding the book out like a shield, Lane deflected the magic straight back. It hit Grandma Darden in the chest, launching her into the ground. Lane landed. Her eyes burned with fury as she thrust out her hand. A javelin of orange snapped out and cut into Grandma Darden. Lane then whipped her hand ahead, and Grandma Darden’s body slid across the ground, smacking into the side of Max’s car.
“She’s not moving,” Sandra said, her face paling. “I think she’s dead.”
Max’s head bounced up and down. “I’m thinking it’s time for Plan B.”
He opened the passenger side door, kept low, and crawled into the driver’s seat. Sandra came up behind and closed the door. Max dug out his keys and started the car. When he looked up, Lane stood right in front of them.
She placed her free hand on the engine hood. Her mouth moved, but Max could not hear the words. He didn’t need to. He knew the look of witchcraft when he saw it. Her hand glowed as it burned into the hood.
Max jammed the car into Drive and floored the gas. But the car did not move. The engine roared and the wheels spun and soon he smelled burning rubber, but they did not move.
“I’m getting stronger,” Lane said.
Glancing backwards, Max shifted into Reverse and floored the gas again. Still, the car did not move. Slapping the steering wheel, he put the car in Park and turned it off.
Satisfied, Lane lifted her hand from the hood — a burnt shadow of her hand remained. She glowered at Max and Sandra before brightening with an idea. “I think I’ll cook you inside your car. That might be fun. In fact, I’m going to—”
Drummond flashed by as he tackled Lane. His painful screams met with her outraged shock as they slammed into the ground. The book tumbled off to the side.
Throwing open the car door, Max scrabbled across the dirt. The book could only have been a few feet away but it felt like miles. His fingers dug against the rocks and sticks as he propelled closer and closer.
Lane rolled out from under Drummond and reached for the book. Max heard Sandra yell something, and suddenly Drummond endured more pain by locking onto Lane’s ankle. Max grabbed the book and backed up against the car. He heard a ding as the ring dislodged from the book and fell.
“I’ve got it!” Max yelled.
Drummond gratefully let go of Lane. He floated into the air, clutching his stomach and wincing.
Sandra asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
“Never better,” he groaned.
“If it makes any difference, it was a nice move.”
His clenched lips formed a smile. “I call it Plan C.”
The pain Drummond suffered had been equally felt by Lane. Twice she attempted to stand. Twice she crumpled to her knees.
“Give me the book,” she said.
“You’ve lost,” Max said.
“Then die.” She thrust her hands out at Max, but nothing happened. She tried again, but still nothing. “Give me the book, now,” she said, but it sounded like a whining plea. “I will let you live. I promise.”
“You’ve disgraced your family. You murdered your grandmother and Enrique Cortez. You’ll be lucky if the courts let you live.”
She gazed up at him. “Then I guess I’ve got nothing to lose.”
With a terrible hiss, she planted one foot firm on the ground and shoved hard. But before she could get her other foot up, Chelsea wrapped a hand around Lane’s ponytail and wrenched back her neck.
“You foul beast!” Chelsea raised her arm high. Max saw the letter opener in her hand. Dripping with the blood of Enrique, she slammed the letter opener into Lane. Again and again. Into the chest, the neck, the stomach — anywhere her rage brought her hand down. Tears streamed from Chelsea and with each strike she hollered with hoarse weeping. “You destroyed everything!”
She continued stabbing her sister long after Lane ceased moving. When she finally stopped, Chelsea dropped flat on her back and stared at the sky.
The house creaked. Loud snaps of timber followed explosions of stone and marble. Whatever parts of the structure had remained standing finally gave up. With a thunderous crunch, the Darden house collapsed.
Sandra clasped Max’s hand. “Come on, hon. We’ve got to leave here before the police show up.”
Chapter 29
MRS. PORTER SET THE SERVING TRAY on the coffee table. She had hot cocoa for PB and J, and coffee for the adults. Max sipped from his mug and eased back on his couch. Sitting in a circle with his family had never felt better.
“I swear, no matter how long I live, I will never understand some people.” Mrs. Porter ruffled PB’s hair as if to say that she understood him fine.
“It’s not that hard,” J said. “This Chelsea lady hired us ‘cause she didn’t like the way her Auntie’s Will was set up. She wanted to make trouble for the other kids.”
“Yes, but after doing that, why on Earth would she kill everybody? Her sister, her brother, her poor grandmother — all dead. From the news reports, it sounds like she destroyed her home, too. Literally, I mean. Blew the whole thing up with dynamite or something.” To Max and Sandra, she added, “You were there. What happened?”
Max choked on his coffee. “Mom, we talked about that. If anybody asks, we were not there. We saw nothing. We left long before Chelsea snapped and did all that horrible stuff.”
“Yes, yes, I know. I’m not an idiot. But nobody’s asking right now, and I want to know the truth.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s as much truth as you get to have.”
PB patted Mrs. Porter’s hand. “You have to get used to that. Some of these cases get a bit classified. Don’t worry, though. You find stuff out anyway. Usually it’s not all that exciting in the first place.”
Later that night, after the boys went home and Mrs. Porter went to sleep, Max picked up his keys and met Sandra at the front door. “You sure you don’t want to come along?” he asked.
She gave him a hug before leaning back in his arms. “It’s best if I stay here. That way nobody can find out from me because I won’t know where you went. And the way things are right now, I’m guessing that somebody will try to find out.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? I thought when we got rid of the Hulls that life would calm down and all this would go away, but it’s only gotten worse.”
“The Hulls were nasty people but they did create an order to things. Kind of like a mafia boss. You don’t like them, but at least they keep the rules clear.”
“Now there are no rules.”
“Exactly. It’s anarchy out there, and whoever grabs enough power will become the witch that makes the new rules.”
“We’re not going to be done with this, are we? I mean, Drummond’s right. No matter what we do, we’re responsible to keep up the fight.”
Sandra chuckled. “I’ll let him know you said he was right.”
“Don’t you dare.”
They kissed again and Max went out to his car. He drove north out of the city, taking Reynolda Road until he saw the branch onto Tobaccoville Road. He parked at the elementary school, shouldered a large supply bag from the trunk, and hiked into the woods.
Drummond was waiting. When Max arrived, Drummond touched the trees and the symbols lit up. Max walked up to the log.
“You sure this is safe?”
Drummond stared at a spot in front of Max’s feet. “Yeah. She’s been under there for decades and nobody’s seen her. Even those who walk right through here never know. The magic keeps them blind to her presence.”
“Okay.” From the supply bag, Max pulled out a shovel. He dug into the spot Drummond pointed out. “Should I go all the way down to where she’s buried?”
“Maybe not that far. She doesn’t have a head, but considering all the things we’ve seen, she might just be able to grab the book and take its power.”
“Not likely. That ring is gone. Besides, Sandra’s spell on the book isn’t that powerful but it’s something, at least. Still, I think I’ll stop digging before I reach that witch.”
Neither spoke again until Max finished shoveling the dirt back onto the book. As they left the site and Drummond touched the tree marks to set the alarm, Max said, “I hope this doesn’t destroy us. It was a curse to the Dardens.”
“Yeah, but they were witches. They were tempted by the power they were trying to conceal. You and I aren’t going to do anything with that book. I can’t even touch it without pain, and you’ve got no real talent for witchcraft. Not to mention that you can’t get to the book without me unlocking the tree wards, so there’s no point in comparing us to the Dardens. We’re in a much better position to fulfill the job. Trust me. Nobody’s getting that book again. Not while you and I are around.”
As Max ambled back to the car, Drummond floated by his side. Max said, “It’s bugging me that we left Chelsea there.”
“Why?” Drummond asked. “She’s not innocent in any of this.”
“She’s not entirely guilty either.”
“She killed her sister.”
“Okay, she’s guilty of that. But the rest of it. I mean, she’s going to be charged with the murder of Enrique and her grandmother.”
“All she has to do is tell the truth. She starts spouting off about magic books, curses, and witches, and she won’t see a day in prison. They’ll send her to a mental ward. Probably a better place for her, and frankly, she could use a little therapy.”
Max shrugged. “I suppose.”
Drummond stopped and faced Max. “Look, pal, I understand. This was an ugly case, and you’re trying to find some silver lining to it all.”
“There isn’t one, though. If I had acted sooner, maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened. Chelsea wouldn’t have been charged with multiple counts of murder because if I had acted sooner, it’s possible that Enrique would still be alive.”
“You can’t go living your life wondering if. That way leads to real madness. Besides, you helped stop a crazy teen from killing a lot of folks, and you helped Chelsea survive. Not bad things to chalk up.”
“I know.”
