Chapter 3
That night, Sylvie sat in her hotel room, flipping through her Book of Shadows. She was a Potions and Charms wiz, and the book was full of recipes for potions, and the plants used. Gareth thought something was in the food that would poison him, so she had to find out what. She just needed to narrow it down.
Sylvie knew it was added later. She doubted that they had accounted for her requesting a different meal. She’d made the mistake of not going with the black-haired woman to get the burgers. So it was sprinkled on, but what could it have been? Why didn’t she take the piece of meat with her?
What was she going to do? Sylvie’s mind raced with so many questions, what ifs, and everything that could go wrong. If she was caught, her license would be revoked, or worse, she could be thrown in jail. Would Gareth be killed if he didn’t escape? She couldn't just leave him in the Fishbowl.
What HQ was doing to him wasn't right. One wouldn't leave animals in the hands of cosmetic companies. Every time a news article on the internet popped up about animal cruelty or animal testing, all she could think about was her Shadow-man. Her cat was black and had been a rescue. She always thought those poor animals could have been her big boy. Knowing that black cats were always the last to be rescued and the first to be euthanized, Sylvie decided she’d advocate for House Panthers. So if she couldn’t leave Shadow at the shelter, she wasn’t about to leave Gareth in those conditions either. Why am I thinking about him, like an animal?
Then again, was this whole thing HQ’s plan, or was Skye acting alone? This didn’t seem like the typical order of operations. She had to stop, had to think, had to meditate.
When her mind finally calmed down after a quick breathing exercise, Gareth’s eyes came to the forefront. They were the same eyes she’d seen in her vision. His eyes. What did it mean, though? Was her vision telling her that she was supposed to help him? Why did she only remember his eyes?
It was like something snapped. Sylvie’s mind filled with images of a dark army and blood, lots of it. She saw High Priestess Skye, but she couldn’t tell what she was doing. She was waving a bladed stick and wearing some odd-looking armour. In the pit of her stomach, Sylvie knew it wasn’t right. She saw bright lights, followed quickly by explosions. She could smell rubbing alcohol and could hear whispers, but she couldn’t make them out. She couldn’t understand any of what she was seeing, and the feelings were jumbled and confusing. She needed to stop something, but what? Something was wrong. She could feel it, knew it deep in her soul, but what was wrong? All she knew for sure was that it had to do with Gareth, and if she didn’t do something, it would end badly.
Flipping to the index page for the different plants and herbs, Sylvie read the various uses for them. “There is no way they’d poison him,” Sylvie told herself. “They don’t know his metabolism, and they might kill him.” Sylvie’s eyes drifted to the herbal sedatives. “That’s it!”
Sylvie flipped to her top choice, passionflower.
“The intricate purple flower has proven to be as useful as sedatives in the benzodiazepine (valium) family; the aerial parts of this herb are great for nervous tension and anxiety. In recent research, passionflower extract at forty-five drops daily (tincture) was shown to be as effective as oxazepam (similar to valium). This nervine herb is also “antispasmodic,” which makes it great for people with constant nervous twitching.”
That had to be it. Sylvie clapped her Book of Shadows closed, picked up her cell phone, and dialed Chasity’s number.
Chasity picked it up after the third ring. “Hey hon, what’s up?”
“Found out what Skye wanted from me,” Sylvie replied. “But get this—Skye was my professor in school.”
“No way!” Chasity exclaimed. “She wasn’t much of a teacher to begin with, and she became the high priestess? Whose ass did she have to kiss?”
Sylvie laughed brightly. “You’ll never guess what Skye and her followers have in their lab. They think it’s a type of demon.”
“A demon? The spiritual kind or the dominant imp version?”
“Neither,” Sylvie replied. “For the most part, he looks human. They’re calling him a Royal Demon. He’s really tall. His hair is platinum white, reaching just to his shoulders, and his eyes are gold. Which is unusual for a human to begin with, but the thing that screams he’s not human, are these curled horns. I’ve never seen anything like him. He has a different energy to him than that of the imps and the typical demons we have. If he is a type demon, his energy isn’t negative; it’s similar to human, actually. What he is, I don’t know.”
“Wow. What do you think they’re doing with him?”
“Currently starving him,” Sylvie grumbled. “They've been putting something in his food, and he can smell it. He’s refusing to eat.”
“Poor guy.”
“Yeah. I have to go back tomorrow and see if I can convince him that the food is safe. But that was before I got wise. I’ll bring him something that I get myself.”
“I wonder what they’re trying to do,” Chasity mumbled.
“I can imagine,” Sylvie replied. “Probably want to do blood work. They managed to get some but not a lot. They probably want to get his muscle mass, BMI, basically study him.”
“What would they do after they get all the necessary information?” Chasity asked.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid they’ll kill him. Test on him in some way. What they’re doing isn’t right. I want to get him out of there, but I doubt he’d be able to get on a plane. Not to mention I don’t have the money for a second ticket.”
“It’ll take me a couple of days to get there,” Chasity replied. “If you can get him out of there and hide out for a little while, we could manage to get him to safety. But honey, why are you doing this?”
“I had a vision. I don’t remember much of it, but something’s wrong. Something’s not right,” Sylvie mumbled. “I’ll stall for a day, then get him out. Gives you a head start.”
“You got it. See you in a couple of days!”
Sylvie hung up the phone and looked around the small hotel room. She was glad that Skye had set her up; she’d never have been able to afford a place this close to downtown. But would she be able to hide someone as big as Gareth here? The short answer was no. If she got Gareth out, this would be the first place they’d look. Those horns too—she’d have to figure out a way to hide them. A glamour spell, maybe?
Sylvie slammed her hand against the cover of her Book of Shadows. She stood up and wandered around the room. She needed a plan. She needed to . . . to . . . She didn’t know what she needed to do. Strategy was never her strong suit in video games, and she bombed in chess and checkers. She needed to get Gareth out of the lab and that stupid Fishbowl, she knew that much. She needed his trust and to get him back home.
But if she was wrong about Gareth, maybe he would kill her the moment he was out? How would she get him home? She didn’t even know where he came from or how he got to the lab.
“One step at a time,” Sylvie told herself, rubbing her face as she stood in front of the mirror. Her mind was too jumbled, even if she could follow her own line of thought. “You need his trust first. Get that, and you’ll be golden.” Well, she hoped she’d be golden. The thought that he might kill her, or she might have her magick stripped from her left a heavy pit in her stomach.
Sylvie sat on the bed. She dug into her bag, pulled out her laptop, and powered it up. She needed to figure out how long it could take Chasity to get there, but she quickly realised she’d likely fly. Sylvie would plan for three days. That would give Chasity enough time to get a plane ticket and find a car to rent.
She’d get Gareth’s trust and get him out of the lab within three days, then she’d figure out the best way to get him home. At least she had a plan of action.
Executing it might be easier said than done, depending on how Skye and the team had been paying attention. They’d seemed somewhat lax in guarding Gareth. Just one warlock? This had her thinking about the safeguards they might have in place to keep Gareth under submission. If they were magickal, Sylvie would have to figure out the spells to counteract them. If they were technological, there might be easier ways to get by them. She just had to figure out what was in place.
As a headache started to set in, Sylvie realised she was stressing herself out while being overtired. She’d try to sneak a good breakfast in for Gareth tomorrow. She’d spotted a café just down the street from where she was staying, and there was a breakfast buffet at the hotel, so she’d be able to grab a couple of muffins for him too. That was probably the best way to get his trust. Food was always the way to a man’s heart.
Right?