Hey Readers! If you haven’t already, be sure to check out other posts here to read previous chapters of The House On Astor Street. Enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-Six
Margot walked into the parlor and over to the large mahogany credenza against the back wall. She spooned an array of various herbs and spices into a cup, then poured hot water over them from a silver kettle, immediately sending a cloud of calming scents wafting through the air. She calmly walked over to an empty chair and sat. Although she looked tired and a little frazzled, she still maintained the grace and elegance that made her a Crawford. She lifted the cup to her lips and blew gingerly on the steam that drifted upwards then took a small sip. She placed the cup on the side table next to her and said, “She will be alright.” Margot adjusted herself in the plush seat. “They got her pretty good. But she will be ok.”
Jason exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath for hours. On the couch, Ryan and Michael sat huddled together perplexed by the nights’ developments. When they arrived at the house on Astor Street, Sandra immediately summoned Margot and then called Audrey. The three of them had been in Emma’s room with her for the past couple hours administering a mix of mezmora related skills as well as practical western medicine. Arthur, meanwhile, had called Steve and told him to meet them back at the apartment to check on Mr. Troddleton and help clean up. Jason learned that Devitors, not being human and all, could be “disposed of” with mezmora, essentially vaporizing their humanlike facades. Amidst all the commotion, Jason felt it was best to try to explain as much as he could to Ryan and Michael. He wasn’t so sure if he made things more or less confusing for them, but he figured they deserved the truth.
“Umm, excuse me… Ms…. Ms. Crawford?” Ryan’s voice was shaky and unsure. “Could I please, um… could I also have some tea?”
“Oh honey, of course.” Margot got up, but paused and said, “And please, guys, call me Margot.” She walked over to the credenza and began making Ryan’s tea.
The faint sound of a door closing and footsteps on the marble floor grew louder from down the hall. Seconds later, Arthur and Steve emerged, followed by Mr. Troddleton, who had his shabby orange cat, along with Patriot and Pepper, on thin, shiny, mezmora leashes. Michael shot up and nearly trampled Margot, who was carrying tea over to Ryan, as he ran to the cats. The mezmora leashes disintegrated into a shimmering dust and the cats plopped onto the floor, exhausted and ready for the impending cuddles from Michael.
“Alright boys, we’ve cleared the apartment out, but, uh…” Steve took a deep breath and looked at Margot, “I think it might be best that you all hang around here for a little bit.”
“Yes, of course! I wouldn’t have it any other way.” With that, Margot lifted her hand and produced a thin strand of purple light that jumped out of her palm and shot down the hallway towards the room full of flash tunnels.
Steve redirected his attention to Jason, Ryan and Michael, the latter two staring in awe down the empty hallway where the flash of mezmora just traveled. “This house, along with Margot’s down below, is protected with some incredibly powerful mezmoratic energy. You’ll be more than safe here.” He glanced over at Ryan and Michael, who looked lost while absorbed in Steve’s words. “These people aren’t after you two, but we will make sure you’re protected while you go about your days.” He turned to Jason. “As for you, no more public transportation or walking around in the streets. You are going to need to use the flash tunnels to get to and from work and to and from Sam’s. Until we get a handle on the situation, we can’t risk you running around alone.”
Jason gulped. He understood the severity of Steve’s words and was beginning to understand, for the first time, the extent of his role in the world of the Altruites and Domenicians. Ryan set his tea down after taking a sip and raised his hand timidly, “Officer, sir, are we going to be able to get a few things from home? I mean, we don’t have anything here…”
“Of course. I will escort you back to the apartment and you two can grab whatever you need.” Steve pulled out a little notepad and pen and tossed them to Ryan. “Make a list. You won’t want to forget anything. I would plan on staying here for an indefinite amount of time, so plan accordingly.”
Ryan and Michael huddled together to make their list when Matilda walked into the room, her cloak of colorful garments swaying in her wake. “Good evening, all.” She smiled as she looked around the room. She focused on Margot and asked, “You rang?”
“Ah yes, Matilda. It appears that Jason and his friends will be staying with us for an extended period of time.” She looked over at the cats. “Along with their two furry friends.
Matilda clenched her fists under her chin and said, “I love cats!”
“Could you help me get their rooms together? We should have plenty of extra blankets and whatnot.”
“Absolutely!” Matilda squealed. “I’ll put together a little space for the kitties as well.”
Ryan and Michael left with Steve to gather their things from home and Margot left with Matilda to set up their rooms down below. Sandra and Arthur sat in the kitchen, emotionally exhausted, picking at cold pasta. Audrey had left a little earlier, satisfied that Emma was stable, albeit still severely injured. On her way out, Audrey had explained that the devitor that attacked Emma was trying to perform the same deadly maneuver on her as they do to all their victims, including the janitor at Jason’s office, the result of which looks like a heart attack. Luckily, it hadn’t succeeded, but Emma would likely remain relatively unresponsive for a couple days.
Alone in the parlor, Jason got up and started wandering towards Emma’s room. He walked slowly towards her door, his feet landing softly, muted, on the marble floor. He admired the fine wood paneled walls, the crystal vases full of colorful flowers and the family portraits adorning the hallway. He opened Emma’s door and saw her under a blanket, laying on her back, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and steady. He walked in quietly, his eyes never leaving her face. He came up close to the side of the bed and watched her breath for a few moments.
He didn’t know what prompted him to do it, but Jason reached down and put Emma’s hand in his and caressed it lightly with his thumb. A fire ignited in his core. He studied his reaction, just like Sam had taught him. He was angry. Angry that Branson and his goons nearly murdered Emma. He was scared. He was scared that this amazing woman that he just met, that introduced him to this new magical world, was laying in front of him helpless and motionless. He was terrified. He was terrified about the immense pressure that was weighing down on him and being in the crosshairs of this age-old war between people he didn’t understand.
Jason took a deep breath and felt the heat grow inside him. He closed his eyes and let his mind go blank. The only thing he could see was Emma. He felt the heat move up his body and roil in his chest. It rumbled against his bones and made his heart beat quickly. His breaths grew deeper and quicker. The heat boiled inside him. He hadn’t felt this before. It felt stuck in his chest and the pain was growing. He thought his chest would explode or light on fire. He could feel the heat condensing and pushing forward. Just then, a brilliant silver strand of string burrowed out of his shirt from the center of his chest. Slowly, delicately, the string floated down towards Emma. It glittered, suspended above Emma for a second, then gently made contact with her chest, burrowing into her, before it slowly disappeared, leaving a thin stream of silver dust lingering in the air.
Jason hadn’t heard Sandra and Arthur walk in and he jumped when he heard Sandra’s gasp. “Arthur, go get Margot immediately!”
Arthur ran down the hall towards the flash tunnels. Sandra moved closer, her eyes welling with tears, as she peered into Emma’s face. Jason stepped back, giving Sandra room, letting go of Emma’s hand. Seconds later, Emma opened her eyes and looked at Sandra, confused, before asking where she was. Sandra burst into tears and pulled Emma up into her arms. Emma looked up and noticed Jason, who was puzzled and frightened by what was happening. “Jason, you’re here?”
“Hey Emma.” Jason’s voice quivered. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m ok, I think. I don’t really remember what happened…”
Margot and Arthur ran into the room, catching their breath. “Oh! She’s awake. Oh, thank god!” Margot exclaimed as she moved closer to Sandra, putting her hand on her back.
Sandra looked up at Margot, tears still streaming down her face. “Jason did it, Margot. Jason was able to perform nefecure!” She sobbed again.
Margot looked over at Jason, who was growing more confused and anxious. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know what I was doing. It just… it just happened!”
Margot walked over to Jason and gave him a hug. “Don’t apologize, honey. You did a good thing. A great thing!” Margot had tears in her eyes as well. She squeezed Jason tightly and said, “You are the only one we have ever known to be able to perform that skill.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jason was growing used to waking up to the warm, purring blob asleep at his feet every morning. He wasn’t sure how, but Patriot managed to escape the room Ryan and Michael were sharing each night and work his way into his bedroom. The first night, still on edge from the ambush back at his apartment, he woke up to the outline of the cat, heavy on his bed. It nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to launch a small missile of mezmora across his dark room, knocking a painting off the opposite wall. Given the situation, though, he was able to find sleep easily and, on his third morning in his new bedroom on Astor Street, he felt at home.
Margot and Sandra were intent that the safest form of travel for Jason was still to take the flash tunnels to and from work and to and from Sam’s office at Northwestern. They had asked for additional support from some of their Altruite and Brillion friends to keep an eye on him throughout the day, insisting that he could never be too careful. Meanwhile, Matilda had been enlisted to help Ryan and Michael move from Margot’s underground manor to the main house up above each morning and evening so they too could carry on with their professional lives. There still was no expiration date to their temporary lodging, but they didn’t seem to care and, instead, were more fascinated by the magic and fineries of their indefinite home.
The Harcava was meeting more frequently than ever. Members were often gone throughout the day trying to convince their Altruite brethren to join their alliance against the growing threat of the Domenicians. It was no simple task, as many in the Altruite community had relaxed into a comfortable neutrality, preferring to not get involved with anything so dangerous. However, the news of Margot’s emergence and the legend of her stunt from the 1980s became a rallying call that helped to recruit a couple prominent families and Harcavas in Europe and Australia. Moreover, rumors that Margot’s own son was the boy in the Master of Stories’ prediction further secured the alliances of several more powerful families in South America, Africa, Asia, and North America. But it was the recent devastating news from Romania that solidified support against the Domenicians.
A couple days earlier, Jason thought Sam seemed withdrawn and preoccupied during their training session. That same night, back on Astor Street, the group listened as Sam delivered the news that the Dragomir clan had met an untimely death in Romania. Earlier that day, Sam had a planned meeting with the Tzerski family Harcava in Bulgaria. Over their lunch at the stately home outside of Sofia, Georgi Tzerski explained to Sam that the Dragomir clan had been found dead in their compound at the old Sturdza Castle in Romania. It had been several weeks since the Sofia Harcava had heard from the Dragomirs, which was odd, given their centuries old kinship. The Dragomirs were a prominent family in Eastern Europe with a rich history that could be traced back several hundred years. Like many other families, they tended to remain neutral when it came to the age-old war between the Altruites and the Domenicians, making them well liked on both sides, and a threat to nobody. But it was their trust and comfortability that would ultimately be their downfall.
Georgi sent his two sons to Sturdza Castle to check in on the Dragomirs. They found the compound eerily quiet. They walked the around heavily wooded perimeter of the castle, looking for a sign of some sort that things were alright. They had found a side door ajar that lead to the kitchen quarters. Inside, there was rotting food prepared on serving platters sitting a butcher’s block in the kitchen, with flies picking at the remnants. Repulsed by the smell, the two brothers ventured further down a hallway flanked by broken doors that led to storage rooms, pantries, and linen closets. At the end of the hall, they saw stairs that led to the main floor above. As they got closer, they saw the body of a maid sprawled across the steps, looking like she was in a deep sleep. No stranger to the power of the Devitors, the brothers looked at each other and sprinted up the stairs for the dining room.
Outside the dining room was another body of a maid, sitting on the floor, her back against the wall with a peaceful expression on her seemingly sleeping face. Fear brewing inside them for what they were sure to find beyond, they opened the doors to the palatial dining room. On the table were remnants of what must have been the first course of dinner, now being swarmed by flies and cockroaches, snaking through the pristine table settings. Seated around the table were the eight elderly members of the Dragomir family and the other twelve members of the Sturdza Harcava. On the floor were two butlers, their backs to the wall, their eyes delicately closed. As they looked around the massive table, the brothers could see the lifeless faces of the ensnared group.
There was no doubt that the Domenicians were behind the attack and, whether it was their plan or not, it lent directly to the Chicago Harcava’s recruiting efforts. By the next evening, each member reported that more groups and families were voicing their support to put an end to the terror and havoc that the Domenicians were wreaking across the world. The Dragomirs and the Sturdza Harcava had become martyrs for the Altruites, and Margot understood that this was key to harnessing alliances.
Jason finally started to get out of bed after reading a few overnight work emails on his phone. He nudged Patriot lightly with his feet so he could move his legs from out under the sheets. He showered and put on one of the outfits Margot had acquired for him. He packed his bag and moved out along the hallway, noticing Ryan and Michael’s door still closed. He looked at his phone as he walked into the cavernous living room where a clock revealed that it was still not even seven. He stopped to put his phone in his bag when he recognized Emma sitting on one of the wood-trimmed couches, petting a sleeping Pepper on her lap.
“Emma!” Jason said, startled.
“Good Morning, Jason.” She lightly moved Pepper from her lap to the empty seat next to her on the couch and got up. She walked over to Jason and threw her arms around him. “I just needed to come say thank you.”
Jason hadn’t seen Emma since that night he performed the nefecure skill on her, but had heard news that her health was improving at a rapid rate. He hugged her closely, saying, “I’m just sorry I couldn’t have prevented it all from the beginning.”
They parted and looked at each other. Emma said, “My mom told me about how you helped. How you were able to heal me.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing… it just… happened.” He smiled at Emma and said, “and I’m happy I did.”
Emma blushed and turned away, embarrassed. She turned back to Jason and said, “Let me grab coffee on your way to work. It’s the least I could do.”
Jason laughed lightly, “Yeah, I’m not really supposed to be going out until things die down a bit…”
Emma sighed, “Ok, how about this? We can head to Foxtrot, it’s just a few blocks away, up on North Ave, and we will be back here before you know it.” She raised her eyebrows, adding, “What do you say?”
A few minutes later, they were walking along the southern border of Lincoln Park, heading towards the coffee shop. They walked past the Chicago History Museum, Emma commenting on how it had been years since she’d been to the museum. She recalled some random facts about the Great Chicago Fire, the World’s Columbian Exposition, and seeing the bed President Lincoln had died in. Across the street from them was Second City, the comedy mecca that produced dozens of comedy legends, like Bill Murray, Stephen Colbert, and Tina Fey. Jason recalled a night he saw a stand-up show with Harrison and Brandon a year or so back. He promised Emma he’d take her sometime when she mentioned that she’d never been.
They walked into Foxtrot and up to the counter to place their orders. Jason, who preferred his coffee black, waited as Emma walked over to the side counter to create her carefully measured concoction of cream, sugar, and coffee. He watched her as she brushed the hair out of her eyes, concentrating on the cream to sugar ratio. She looked up and caught his eye, smiling as she stirred her brew. Her light expression slowly contorted into a look of fear, then outright terror. Trembling, she put the cap messily back on her cup and walked as casually as she could pretend over to Jason. She grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear, “Branson Maledu is here.”
Jason started to turn to look, but Emma stopped him. “No, don’t!” She hissed. “He’s with Lila Kiln and Anderson Bogart.” She slipped her hand onto the inside of his arm and pulled him towards the door, feigning a relaxed exit from the store. “We have to get out of here.”
They walked outside along the large windows towards Astor street. Jason looked back briefly into the half-filled shop. In the back corner, far from the entrance, he could make out a young woman with curly dark hair, pulled into a tight ponytail, sharpening her already rigid features. She was wearing a loose, dark t-shirt, and shorts slightly above her knees. It looked like she had heavy tactical boots on her feet, which she swung back and forth under her chair. Across from her was a man with skin so pale it looked almost translucent. His light brown hair was spiky and wild and his face looked red from the waning summer heat. He had on a tight shirt that accentuated his rippling arms and chest, and a pair of pants that fed into his similar black tactical boots. In between them was a middle-aged man with longer gray hair, cut with a part down one side. He wore a bright colored shirt covered by a leather vest that reminded Jason of an old western. His ice blue eyes darted between Lila and Anderson, his thin lips displaying a wicked smirk.
Heat was mixing with adrenaline inside of him as he felt Emma’s hand continue to shiver on the inside of his arm. Jason looked back at the three people inside the café one last time, when Branson’s sharp blue eyes looked up and met Jason’s. A sly, terrifying smirk formed on Branson’s face. Reflexively, Jason yanked Emma forward and mumbled intensely, “Run!”
