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This text is (c) 2009 by Melanie. All rights reserved.
 
 
Seventy

I read with an urgency I had never felt before in my life, first re-reading the door opening spell, then I looked through a list of spells I had noted down on my “look at later” list. This was a list of spells that I thought would be useful in the future, but I had no time to study now.

I was angry, so I selected some nasty spells from a book on offensive casting that I hadn't considered using before. Now I was in a frame of mind where I was not only considering using them, I was looking forward to having the opportunity to do so.

I found a number of spells that would be useful in a fight, but there weren't any that I could see to be of use in finding Alyssa or her abductors.

Another vision spell would pointless, because all I would see would be the inside of the van. I looked at the list of spells again, as if looking at it would make the right spell jump out at me. I had no luck.

I decided to take another look at the mystery woman with the mobile who had probably called in the people in the van. I concentrated and cast another vision spell, but nothing happened. I tried again, to no avail.

I searched through the shelves full of books, frantically looking for the one that I had found the vision spell in. Finally, I found it and opened it to the page where the vision spell was described in detail.

I read the remarks and footnotes and I found that no period in time could be viewed more times than there were persons involved. So, since Alyssa had been alone, there was no way I could view her running away again. Even down on Santa Monica Boulevard it would be of very little use, because it needed a focus, a person to attach to, to see what that person had seen.

Suddenly, the solution came to me. I called Stacy and explained what we had to do. I would cast a vision spell on the mystery woman.

When the van picked her up, she got in in front. She must have seen where they were going. We got into the car, with Stacy driving. I couldn't see myself trying to drive while seeing the past superimposed on the present, that was way too dangerous.

We went down to Santa Monica Boulevard, and I pictured the woman in my mind and cast the spell. My perception shifted as the vision took hold, I saw her getting into the van and saw the van pull off the curb, heading westward. I motioned to Stacy and she started driving. The vision moved at it's own pace, so I had to ask Stacy to slow down because we were actually overtaking the vision and I didn't know where to go.

I fervently hoped that we would not get into a traffic jam, because we could lose the vision focus up ahead and never find it again.

The van headed down Santa Monica Boulevard to La Cienega, where it turned left and passed the Beverly Center and the Motel where I had spent my first days in Los Angeles, passed under the Santa Monica Freeway and turned right on Adams Boulevard. It turned in to a side street and pulled into the courtyard of one of the blocks there.

We pulled up in front of the building and I ran to the entrance to see where they were going. I saw them enter one of the 2nd floor apartments, then the vision stopped.

I concentrated and scanned the block for the aura of a magic user, but, surprisingly, came up empty. I had been convinced that other sorceresses were involved in this, that this was part of the plot, but no one here had a magical aura.

I walked into the courtyard and looked up at the apartment, trying to figure out the best course of action, then I returned to the car to talk to Stacy and plan a rescue attempt. I felt invigorated at the prospect of being able to do something. The fear was still there, but there was also hope.

We talked back and forth and decided we would watch the building until nightfall, then we would make a rescue attempt and hopefully catch them by surprise.

Seventy-One

After an interminable 9 hours, night had fallen and we left the car to take a stab at rescuing Alyssa. We entered the courtyard and moved silently up the stairs to the door I had seen the woman walk into.

Listening at the door, I could hear no sound from inside. I had to assume they were all asleep, or at least not as alert as they would be in the daytime.

To be honest, I was a bundle of nerves and Stacy didn't look much better, but I also had a grim determination to do what had to be done, no matter what.

It was only after losing Alyssa that I realized that she had become such a large part in our lives, and had stolen my heart without me even noticing. I thought back to the events of the past week and a smile flickered across my lips as I remembered the funny little things she had done.

I snapped back to reality at the sound of footsteps in the courtyard. Stacy and I pressed ourselves against the wall to avoid being noticed. The man who had entered the courtyard unlocked one of the ground floor apartments and went inside, closing the door.

I let out the breath I wasn't aware I was holding and relaxed against the wall. I motioned to Stacy to get ready and reached for the lock opening spell.

I cast the spell on the door, which opened with a soft click. Pushing the door open, I looked at a dilapidated apartment's living room. Wallpaper was hanging off the walls in shreds, the carpet was pulled off the floor and loosely laid back down and clothing and other things littered the floor.

An old coffee table in front of the threadbare sofa held mirrors, small bottles and glass pipes, forceps and cotton balls. The curtains were drawn and no lights were on inside. We entered and pushed the door closed, but didn't let the latch snap shut. We silently moved to the closed bedroom door and stood there.

I can't remember ever being as afraid as I was at this moment, but I was on a mission and fear wasn't going to stop me.

I reached for the doorknob and slowly, ever so slowly, turned it until I felt the latch open. I pushed the door open on silent hinges. I said a quick thanks to heaven for that, I had been deathly afraid the hinges would squeal when I opened the door. It was pitch black in the bedroom, with no light coming in front he front and none from the window that was sure to be there, but was invisible in the dark.

I took a careful step inside, casting a look back toward Stacy, who was framed in the dim glow coming in through the open door.

Without warning, there was pain like I had never felt before. My arm felt like it was on fire. Light flared up and a large man who had been standing next to the door in the dark grabbed Stacy to pull her inside. I screamed, a scream that was echoed by Alyssa's voice from the bed. I spun around and saw Alyssa on the bed, wide-eyed. Next to the bed stood the mystery woman, holding a baseball bat. I looked at my arm, seeing my forearm hanging at an unnatural angle, broken. That was the last thing I saw as I passed out.

Seventy-Two

I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to die. Anything to make the pain go away. I cracked my eyes open, but didn't see anything. The room I was in was dark, with only a thin strip of light coming in from under a closed door. My arm was hurting terribly, and every movement made it hurt worse. My arm was under me and my full weight was on it. My other arm was also under me, and they were tied or cuffed together. So were my feet, from what I could feel. Something was in my mouth, and I tried to spit it out, but realized I couldn't. I was gagged.

My eyes were getting used to the gloom and I could make out some things around me. I was still in the bedroom, laying on the bed now. The windows were boarded up, that was why there was no light coming in through them at all. Another shape was laying on the floor, also tied. I assumed that was Stacy. There was no sign of Alyssa and no sound came from the front room.

I had to get off my arm, the pain was almost unbearable. I tried to roll over, but a jolt of pain convinced me that that was not a good idea. I arched my back to take my weight on my feet and shoulders, lifting myself off the broken arm. The pain flared up as I moved, but then subsided to a level where I was able to hold a clear thought in my mind. I tapped into the power and lifted myself off the bed using levitation. I floated upwards, turning so my feet were facing downward, then set myself down on the floor. I was still tied and still in pain, but it felt much better to be off the bed. I felt a little in control, and with my weight off my arm, I was in much less pain.

I felt around with my hands, finding that I was handcuffed. That was a lucky break, I didn't know if I could have handled rope bindings without seeing them, but handcuffs I had experimented with. I knew exactly what they were like inside, and a brief moment later the left cuff clicked open, releasing my uninjured arm.

Bringing my arm around the front, I carefully guided my broken right arm around myself and held the cuffs while I unlocked the other one so they would not fall on the floor and make noise.

My hand went to my face, where I felt a strip of duct tape across my mouth. I peeled one corner and ripped it off in one swift motion. It didn't even hurt, well, not compared to my arm, anyway. I spat out what they had stuffed in my mouth, some rag or whatever, I didn't really want to know. It left a foul taste in my mouth and I shuddered involuntarily at the thought of all the germs that might be in my mouth now.

When I bent down to examine the bindings on my feet, I found they were also duct tape, and I removed them quickly, but quietly. I knelt down next to the person on the floor, who was indeed Stacy. I shook her to wake her up, but got no reaction. A quick check confirmed that she had a pulse, she was alive, but unconscious.

I was mad now. First they take my daughter, then they break my arm, and then they hurt my lover? Well, it was time for the gloves to come off.

I stepped up to the bedroom door, twisted the knob and yanked the door open. Light flooded the room and made me blink. I saw the man I had briefly seen last night, sitting at the table holding one of the little bottles over a cotton ball that was burning with a blue flame.

He looked up, yelled “Shit!” and put the bottle down. He jumped off the sofa and took a step towards me. I used my powers to push him back, while pushing with my left hand to make it seem like I was using sheer physical strength, rather than magic.

I slammed him up against the wall, and, still augmenting my strength with magic, grabbed him by the neck, pressing him up against the wall and upwards until his feet were almost off the floor.

Naked fear stood in his eyes as I looked at him and said, in a low voice, “What is it gonna be today? Life, or death?”

It was then that I noticed the smell coming from him and the dark stain spreading across the front of his pants. He had released his bowels and bladder in fear. Just where I wanted to have him. I let off some pressure, allowing his feet to gain a purchase on the ground again and letting him take a breath before I squeezed his neck again.

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. I let off the pressure a bit and he wheezed “Please. Air.” I made as if I were thinking about his request for a moment, then loosened my grip a bit more.

He greedily sucked in the air I allowed him to have. I said “Spill it.”

He did.

They were a couple, drug addicts. They grabbed small, unattended children, who they then sold to a woman for cash. They didn't know what happened to the children after that, but assumed they would be placed with childless rich couples.

He showed no remorse at all, merely relating this as facts. I got angrier and angrier with every sentence that came out of his mouth, finally I yelled “Stop!”

He gave me a questioning look and I said, “What happened to Stacy?” I got a blank look and said, “The woman I came in with, why is she unconscious?”

“Tanya gave her an injection. Something they gave us to keep the children quiet. She'll wake up in a few hours,” he said.

“So, where is Tanya now?” I asked.

He hesitated, causing me to push him against the wall and making as if I was going to choke him again, then he hastily said, “She's gone to sell the brat.”

“Where to?” I asked.

“I don't know. She made a phone call. It's never the same place twice.”

“The 'Brat' is my daughter,” I hissed at him, lifting him off the ground again.

I decided that the man had no more useful information. I needed to get rid of him, I couldn't keep holding him up against the wall after all. Strengthening my choke hold, I carefully applied some magical enhancement and he slumped and slid down to the floor where I let go of him.

I went to the bedroom and got the handcuffs, then searched him for the keys. I found the keys in his pants pocket and placed them on the table. Then I used my powers to move his unconscious body to the kitchen, where I cuffed him to a water pipe.

I went to the bedroom and examined Stacy. She was also tied up with duct tape and gagged. I removed the tape and the stuffing from her mouth, which turned out to be a sock. I felt nauseated when I thought that I had had something in my mouth as well, and that socks came in pairs. However, I had no interest in looking for it, I really didn't need to know.

I was coming down off my adrenaline rush and I was starting to feel the pain from my arm. All the time during the questioning, I had not even noticed the pain, but now it hit me again.

Moving carefully, I lifted Stacy onto the bed using my powers and settled down to wait.

I couldn't leave, because I needed to catch Tanya. This would be the only chance I had to find Alyssa. I had tried a vision spell, but it didn't work. I didn't know why it failed, but I had to find Alyssa the old fashioned way. Well, almost.

Seventy-Three

The sound of a key in the door lock brought me to full attention. The key was turned and the door opened up. Tanya, the mystery woman, stood in the door and stared at me sitting at the table. I didn't give her a chance to react, using my powers to pull her inside and slam the door shut.

Gone was all pretense of physical strength, I was beyond caring about secrecy. In the hours I had spent waiting my thoughts had been chasing one another, about what bad things could be happening to Alyssa right now, then turning to what I would do, and enjoy doing, to Tanya, once I got my hands on her.

Strangely, having a name to call her by had allowed me to gain a much sharper focus for my anger and I was good and ready for her when she walked in the door.

She stood in the room, looking around to see who had pushed her inside, but there was no one there. She looked at me again and I said, “Bitch! You'll regret touching my daughter. You'll rue the day!”

I had some time to collect my thoughts and ready some spells I had memorized. I reached for a spell, whispered it's rune and cast it at her. She screamed and fell to the floor, twitching. I smiled at her coldly as she looked up at me and I said, “Nasty things, these pain spells.”

Her eyes opened wide in shock at what I said, while she continued to writhe and twist on the floor, moaning. I motioned at her and the pain stopped. She stared at me, her mouth moving silently as she could not form a coherent thought. Finally, she gasped, “Pain spell?”

I smiled again, mirthlessly, and said, “Yes. I'm a sorceress.”

She blanched and stuttered, “But... but... magic? There is no such thing......”

I looked at her and said, “That is precisely what we want you to believe.” I gave her a cold stare and went on, “Unless, that is, you fuck with us.”

I called on the spell again, making her cry out and curl up into a fetal position, rocking back and forth in pain.

I said, “And now, when I release you from the pain, you will tell me exactly what you have done with my daughter!”

She looked at me and nodded wordlessly. I motioned with my hand and the pain stopped. She took a deep breath and sat up on the floor.

“Please don't hurt me again!” she begged.

I looked at her and said, “I expect you to talk. Leave nothing out. If you lie, I will know.”

She looked at me like a deer in the headlights and started talking. She confirmed everything her boyfriend had told me, and also told me how it all was done. They would cruise the touristy areas of the city, looking for unattended small children or babies. When they saw one, they would call in the others, who would drive up with the van do perform the snatch. They had a third person, a young man, who drove the van.

They would bring the kid here, drug her, and call the buyer. She would tell Tanya a place to meet and a time, then Tanya would take the child there, hand her over and receive an envelope. Then she would go by a crack house and come home with the drugs. The money they made from a snatch would keep them in crack for a week or two. Then they did it again.

I looked at her in disgust. “So you are preying on the weakest of society to feed that nasty habit of yours.” I stated. She nodded mutely and lowered her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she said, “I wish I could stop, but I can't.” She started sobbing quietly, there on the floor. I was tempted to feel sympathy for her, then a twinge from my arm reminded me of the violence she was capable of.

I pushed her over into the corner of the room and placed wards around her, like a cage of magical energy she should not hope to break out of.

I went to the bedroom to check on Stacy, who was still out cold.

I laid down on the bed next to her and got as comfortable as I could, then exhaustion overcame me and I fell asleep.

End of part eighteen