Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3) Read online

  He grimaced in unwilling agreement. “There might be only one reconstructionist in the world who could have exposed him. You.”

  I nodded, though a streak of terror slipping along my spine momentarily threatened my poise. “We should assume that he expected that. Me. Us. Without Yale to hide behind, he had to kidnap Dawn himself. He’s not stupid. He expects us to figure it out.”

  “All right. We regroup at Amy and Dean’s.” Declan nodded his head toward the road. “They lived near here, right? The house should be empty. If it isn’t, we’ll go to a hotel.”

  “This is insane,” Jasmine muttered. “We need more evidence. So much more.”

  “Prove me wrong, then,” I said quietly. Then I realized that someone was watching us, listening to our every word.

  Copper was standing just at the edge of my peripheral vision.

  I frowned at the witch. “We need those distraction spells down.”

  “I’ll help you,” Declan said, turning away.

  Copper smiled at him as if he’d just told her she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He walked away without noticing.

  I crossed to pick up the rest of my candles. Then, mired deeply within my own thoughts, I slowly walked back to the SUV.

  Jasmine trailed silently behind me.

  Kett was waiting for us, leaning back on the hood of the vehicle.

  Jasmine crossed toward the passenger side without a word, but I called out to her before she climbed into the SUV.

  “I’ll need to know where he is, Jasmine,” I said. “Here or on the island.”

  She lifted her bright-blue eyes to meet my gaze. “I’ll ask Rose, if we tie him to Chicago and LA. But as soon as I do … he’ll know. He’ll know we know. So you need to be sure this is what you want to do, Betty-Sue.”

  “I am.”

  Jasmine nodded. Still moving as if she might be in shock, she climbed into the SUV but didn’t close the door.

  I pinned my gaze on Kett, knowing he’d overheard everything I’d already said to Jasmine and Declan.

  His slightly amused smile faded at whatever he saw in my expression. His chiseled features settled into his typical detached demeanor as he stood upright, watching me carefully.

  When I was certain I had every bit of his attention, I spoke. “I need to talk to Yale.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Listen to me closely,” I said, stepping into his space. My tone felt dark even to my own ears. “I’m calling in a favor, or cashing in a chit, or whatever it takes.”

  “You don’t have any favors banked.”

  I raised my chin haughtily. “No? I rescued the executioner of the Conclave from a horde of zombies. And I didn’t implicate the Conclave in Jasmine’s kidnapping.” I ground out the next three words. “Get me Yale.”

  Kett’s marble-carved face went utterly still. The red of his magic glinted in his silvered eyes. Then he arched an eyebrow. “As you wish.”

  I nodded stiffly. Then I retreated into the back seat of the SUV, ready to replay the reconstruction over and over until I had every pulse of its magic memorized.

  Chapter 9

  We regrouped in Amy and Dean Fairchild’s tidy, three-bedroom home. A real estate For Sale sign sat at the turn into a long driveway that ran through a treed front yard. And though it was still furnished, the house itself was dark and unoccupied. It should have felt disrespectful — using the home of people I was fairly certain my uncle had slaughtered. But remembering Amy’s wild casting, her completely unselfish attempt to save her daughter’s life, I decided that if we were convening a war counsel, then the living room of the woman whose child I hoped to rescue was the perfect place to do so.

  Upon entering, Jasmine had immediately commandeered the six-seat glass-topped table in the dining room, plugging in her various devices. Declan disappeared deeper within the house. Kett opted to stay in the SUV and make more phone calls. Or perhaps he was keeping an eye on Copper as the witch set distraction and minor cloaking spells around the immediate perimeter of the house.

  Though the house was situated back from the road and shielded from any neighbors’ view by trees on either side, Copper’s due diligence was appropriate and completely by the book. Given our collective headspace — muddled verging on overwhelmed — I wasn’t sure that Declan, Jasmine, or I would have remembered to take such precautions.

  After making a quick circuit of the main floor, I paused at the front windows of the living room, which was situated just off the entranceway and adjacent to the dining room. Other than furniture, no personal objects remained.

  Overhead, the quarter moon made an appearance in the dark, cloudy sky, momentarily washing across the SUV in the driveway, the well-trimmed lawn, and the dark border of trees surrounding the modest property. Not seeing Kett, I assumed he’d wandered off somewhere. Then the moon disappeared behind another cloud.

  “I’ve got it,” Jasmine said hollowly from behind me. “Flights into Chicago and LA on the days Yale kidnapped Ruby and Jack.”

  I nodded, glancing back through the living room over my shoulder. My cousin hadn’t turned on the dining room light, and in the glow of her laptop screen, she looked drawn, tired, and terribly sad. I wasn’t surprised or particularly vindicated by Jasmine’s confirmation of Jasper’s involvement, but it was clear how it was affecting her. And I had no idea how to help her, other than to rescue the children and make it through the coming confrontation — in whatever form it was going to take.

  “We’re going to need more before we can take this to the Convocation,” Jasmine said. “Some evidence of an agreement between Jasper and Yale. Payments. Meetings. Some sort of traceable communication at a minimum.”

  “You would have found that already,” I said. “We need to hear it from Yale directly.”

  “He’ll never go on record. Why would he even talk to us?”

  “Call Rose, would you?” I ignored Jasmine’s question, having no doubt that Kett would make Yale talk to us, willingly or not. And how that came about didn’t matter anymore.

  “And tell her what? That Jasper is kidnapping kids?”

  I shook my head. “Wait until we have all the last pieces in place. Just find out where he is. We’re going to have to figure out what to do about the kids.”

  “Do?” Jasmine echoed. “We’re going to rescue them.”

  I turned away from the window, moving past the comfy-looking couch and the matching recliner armchairs into the dining room. Jasmine held my gaze steadily. I’d misread her. She wasn’t shocked or distraught. She was quietly — even desperately — angry.

  Reaching across the glass table, I brushed my fingers across the back of her hand. She shivered at the touch of my magic. “You know that if any of us confront him face to face, it won’t go well.”

  “For him,” Jasmine said darkly.

  Declan appeared in the kitchen doorway behind his sister. “Pizza has been ordered.”

  “You found someone to deliver?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I have to go pick it up.”

  “My hero,” Jasmine said, twisting around in her chair to bat her eyelashes at him. “Where’s Copper?”

  “Resting.” His gaze settled on me. “Only Wisteria can cast and hold a circle for that long without needing to at least nap afterward.”

  “Or Jasper,” Jasmine said, resting her chin on the back of the tall chair. “That masking spell was … masterful.”

  Declan grunted, reluctantly agreeing.

  “I suspect I can break it.” Keeping my voice hushed, I skirted the table to stand closer to both of them.

  Jasmine looked up at me.

  “If the tribunal requires it. I’ll recast the circle and try. Closing down the road will be simpler with the Convocation’s backing.”

  Declan shook his head. “They won’t let you present. Jasper will counterfile, barring us from the trial. If they need it, they’ll have to find another witch to try to remove the masking spell.”r />
  Jasmine nodded. “He’d be stupid to not get us removed from the investigation team. Which is why we have to find the kids first, before we present our evidence.”

  “What?” Declan asked. “You want to confront Jasper directly? You want to get the kids killed?”

  Jasmine waved her hand offishly. “I’m compiling our evidence and application, aren’t I?”

  “Do the flight records have him going anywhere else since Amy and Dean were killed and Dawn was snatched?” I asked.

  Jasmine shook her head. “Nowhere else unusual. Chicago. LA. Then Litchfield to Barbados and back, three times.”

  “Indicating that he’s in Connecticut now?”

  She nodded.

  “Makes sense,” I mused. “Since he just regained control of the manor …” A flush of realization flooded through my chest so harshly that I actually gasped. “Oh, God. Lark.”

  “Lark?” Declan asked.

  “The brownie,” Jasmine said.

  “He … he must have used the kids to break our hold on the estate magic,” I said. “That’s why Lark asked me to come. You don’t think … he wouldn’t have. I assumed that he’d train them … not … not …”

  “You’re leaping to conclusions again, Betty-Sue,” Jasmine said. “Jasper isn’t rash. Slightly stupid to use the jet, but not rash.”

  “Who would know?” Declan said. “Other than us, who else would bother looking to connect Jasper to the kidnappings? Like I said, I doubt another reconstructionist would have even noticed the damn masking spell. Jasper isn’t even slightly stupid.” He scrubbed his hand across his face wearily. “I’m getting the pizza.”

  He crossed past me, then stepped back to hold his hand out to me. When I brushed my fingers across his, he closed his hand around mine firmly. His touch was warm and steady.

  “He hasn’t killed the kids.”

  “Yet.”

  “Yeah, yet.” Declan sighed harshly. Then he squeezed my hand and released it.

  I curled my fingers into a fist, holding onto his warmth as best I could.

  Declan strode off through the living room and into the front entrance. “Where’s that damn vampire? I need the keys.”

  “It doesn’t need a key to start,” Jasmine called after him. “Kett leaves them in the car, just press the ignition.”

  “Fancy,” Declan said sarcastically. Then the door opened and shut.

  I smiled to myself, glancing back at Jasmine. She was watching me, her expression hard and hooded.

  The smile drained from my face.

  “We aren’t going to leave Jasper with the kids a minute longer than they have to be,” she said. “Protocol or not.”

  “I know,” I said. “Let’s just try to get the coven on our side first.”

  She nodded stiffly, then returned to building her report.

  Copper wandered into the living room, blinking sleepily. “Declan?”

  I smiled at her as kindly as I could. “He’s gone for pizza. But perhaps there’s some tea in the cupboards?”

  Jasmine shifted out of her seat with a put-upon sigh. “I’ll make it. The estate is trying to sell the house. They don’t need the stove broken.” She crossed back through into the kitchen with Copper trailing after her. “When we get Dawn back, she’ll need the money.”

  Unbidden, the thought came to me of what would happen if we didn’t get Dawn back … and how the Fairchilds were going to be on the hook for way more than a broken stove.

  Forcing myself to focus on more immediate concerns, I called after Copper. “Have you heard back from Sherwood and Pine? About Lark?”

  The witch shook her head. “Not yet. I just checked my messages.”

  Suddenly weary with all that was to come and all that I had yet to figure out, I slowly followed the other two witches into the kitchen.

  A ruddy-haired vampire was sitting on the far kitchen counter, next to the open door to the back patio. He was clad in a misshapen blue sweater, torn jeans, and dirty sneakers, his green-eyed gaze riveted to me.

  Yale.

  I paused in the doorway of the dining room, the first one to notice him.

  To my far right, Jasmine flinched a moment later, pinning Copper behind her against the stove. Copper’s jaw dropped and stayed down. Jasmine was gripping a stainless steel kettle so harshly that I thought she might hurt herself before she got a chance to brain the vampire with it.

  “That trick is a little overused,” I said snidely. “Isn’t it, vampire?”

  Yale grinned at me spitefully. “Wisteria Fairchild. My lovely soon-to-be shiver mate. You called. And now I’m here. The fact that there was no threshold to impede my entry confirmed my welcome.”

  “The owners of this property are recently deceased,” I said. “But you know that already.”

  His smile faded from his face. “I haven’t killed anyone in a long time, Wisteria. Such things are liable to draw the attention of the executioner.”

  “And that’s exactly what you wanted.”

  “Was it?”

  “Tsk-tsk, Yale.” Estelle clucked her tongue as she strolled in through the back door, sweeping her gaze disdainfully across the kitchen — more functional than stylish — and the two witches still pressed against the stove. “I told you to wait.”

  Kett was right behind his maker. My stomach churned at the idea of Estelle simply appearing in the backyard with Yale in tow, indicating that not only could she teleport across vast distances — perhaps even all the way from London, England, to Rye, New York — she could do so with another person.

  “No,” Yale said, correcting Estelle snottily. “You asked.”

  “I’ll pay closer attention to my wording next time.” The dark-haired vampire turned to me, sweeping her hand toward Yale. “Wisteria Fairchild. A gift. To cement the bonds soon to be formed between us.”

  “Yes,” Yale said, overly brightly. “A temporary reprieve from the dungeons. Though my shackles are simply less visible.” The vampire kept his mossy-green gaze glued to me.

  “Without my blood, you’d still be insensible,” Estelle said.

  “Without your blood, I’d still be free.”

  “If it was my choice,” Jasmine said, slamming the kettle down on the stove, “you’d have been destroyed along with your rapist progeny.”

  Estelle narrowed her eyes at Yale. “So you did condone the ravaging of this beautiful witch.”

  “You can discuss the details another time, perhaps.” Kett swiftly closed the distance between us, situating himself just behind my left shoulder.

  A look of utter annoyance flitted across Estelle’s face. “You called in a favor, Kettil. We’re here.”

  I didn’t like the idea of Kett owing anything to his maker. Though perhaps he’d simply collected on an old debt rather than incurring a new one on my behalf.

  Along with Yale, who still hadn’t taken his gaze off me, everyone else in the kitchen turned to look at me expectantly.

  “You’re working with Jasper,” I said.

  “Working with? No.” Yale smiled, tight-lipped.

  I could practically feel the loathing rolling off him. And for some reason, instead of feeling intimidating, it emboldened me. I deliberately stepped forward until only a couple of feet separated me from Yale still seated on the counter.

  Slightly off to my left, Estelle could have reached out and touched me. Kett kept pace behind me, showing rather than saying that he’d support whatever I chose to do.

  I tugged the sleeve of my black silk top back from my wrist, freeing my bracelet to dangle over the back of my hand. I tilted my head in Estelle’s direction, indicating I was addressing her even though I kept my gaze on Yale. “We were just going to make some tea,” I said.

  “Ah,” she said, angling her gaze toward Jasmine. “Something warm would be lovely. Earl Grey?”

  Jasmine nodded, crossing to the sink to pour water into the kettle. After setting it on the stove, she bustled around the kitchen, gathering a teapot an
d mugs.

  Yale flicked his gaze to Kett behind me. “I’m here, as requested. I could have refused.”

  “I don’t speak for Wisteria,” Kett said.

  Yale returned his gaze to me, then glanced down to the bracelet teeming with magic on my wrist.

  “You had a deal with my uncle, Jasper Fairchild,” I said. “I’d like to know the particulars.”

  “Ask your questions then, witch.”

  “You kidnapped Ruby and Jack for him.”

  A smile stretched across Yale’s face. I didn’t know him well enough to judge, but he looked paler and slimmer than the last time we’d met. “I didn’t catch everyone’s names.”

  “You snatched a young girl from a park in Chicago,” I said. “And a boy from a group home in LA. I have the reconstructions.”

  Yale’s gaze flicked to Kett again.

  “I haven’t handed the evidence over to the Convocation yet,” I continued. “But I doubt the Conclave would hesitate to do whatever it took to maintain a smooth relationship with the witches. Whether your blood has any potential value or not.”

  “There is no need to threaten me further.” Yale leaned back nonchalantly.

  “Then speak plainly.” I was keeping as cool and collected as I could — when what I really wanted to do was torture the answers out of him with my bracelet. “Detail your actions from the moment you made contact with Jasper Fairchild.”

  Yale took a breath as if relishing the opportunity to tell the tale. But I could see by the way he clenched his hands that he wasn’t pleased to be confessing anything.

  “Jasper contacted me in October of last year,” he said, leaning forward so our eyes were level. His magic brushed against me, against my mind.

  I curled my lip scornfully at his feeble attempt to ensnare me, or at least to beguile me.