Banishing the Dark (The Arcadia Bell series) Read online

  Praise for Jenn Bennett

  BINDING THE SHADOWS

  “From the opening line to the terrifying cliffhanger ending, this is an adventure readers won’t soon forget!”

  —RT Book Reviews (Top Pick!)

  “Larger-than-life, full-to-the-brim, jump-off-the-page, made-of-awesome good.”

  —Rabid Reads

  “HOLY FRACKING HELL!!! THAT is how you end a book! . . . Jenn’s voice is superb.”

  —Yummy Men & Kick Ass Chicks

  “This series has managed to get infinitely better with each new story. . . . A jaw-dropper of an ending.”

  —Sweet Tidbits

  “Bennett’s spectacular urban fantasy series has earned her a spot on my favorites shelf. . . . Her writing is crisp, imaginative, capped with witty dialogue.”

  —Paranormal Haven

  “This is one of those books that you want to devour in a day but wish you hadn’t when you turn the last page.”

  —Romancing the Dark Side

  SUMMONING THE NIGHT

  Nominated for the RT Book Reviews

  Reviewers’ Choice Award

  “Bennett quickly establishes that her terrific debut was no fluke, delivering another riveting tale. . . . A series for your keeper shelf!”

  —RT Book Reviews (Top Pick!)

  “I can’t find enough superlatives for the enjoyment each of Bennett’s books has brought. She has won a lifetime fan in me.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Cady, Lon, and Jupe are my new favorite crime-fighting, magic-wielding Earthbound family unit. More, please.”

  —Reading the Paranormal

  “Jenn Bennett has created another amazing novel filled with strong characters, magical surprises, and quirky humor.”

  —Tynga’s Reviews

  KINDLING THE MOON

  “The talent pool for the urban fantasy genre just expanded with Bennett’s arrival. This is an impressive debut. . . . Plenty of emotional punch, not to mention some kick-butt action. . . . Bennett appears to have a bright future ahead!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Without a doubt the most impressive urban fantasy debut I’ve read this year. . . . The writing is excellent, the characters are charming, and the romance is truly believable. . . . Flawlessly original!”

  —Romancing the Darkside

  “The perfect blend of action, intrigue, tension, and the supernatural.”

  —Reading the Paranormal

  “Fun and original. . . . I can’t think of one thing I didn’t like about the book.”

  —Urban Fantasy Investigations

  “I was smitten with this book right from the beginning . . . a must-read for all lovers of urban fantasy.”

  —Wicked Little Pixie

  “Bennett creates a world that is interesting and all its own. . . . Her characters are crafted with precision.”

  —The Spinecracker

  “Jenn Bennett has written a great off-beat debut novel with a likeable heroine and a fun, original storyline. . . . I thoroughly enjoyed it!”

  —Karen Chance, New York Times bestselling author

  “Kindling the Moon engaged me from page one. I loved it! I immediately adored the heroine, Arcadia Bell. This book is packed from cover to cover with unpredictable twists, heart-pounding action, and heated sexual tension. . . . Jenn Bennett has definitely made my ‘To Buy’ list.”

  —Anya Bast, New York Times bestselling author

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  To Mr. “Freaky Deaky” Squeaky

  Jupe crouched in the shadows, watching a pair of nurses stroll down the hall. Cartoon horses on the female nurse’s scrub pants stretched over a pretty good ass. Good enough that he considered following her. After all, he’d analyzed forty-three nurses over the past month. Only two of them even remotely qualified as hot, and one of those was a guy.

  But right now, he had more important things to do than accept the depressing likelihood that hot-nurse fantasies were a sham. So when the pair sauntered around the corner out of sight, he pushed to his feet and scrambled across the hall.

  A taped-up sheet of plastic, two trash cans, and a warning sign might keep stupid people out of the construction area, but anyone with half a brain could see how easy it was to squeeze through. The display downstairs in the lobby said the new hospital wing cost three hundred million dollars. Maybe they should have spent some of that on a few pieces of plywood if they were serious about keeping people out until it was finished.

  He’d been sneaking out to the sixth-floor glass walkway stretched between the old and new hospital wings off and on for a couple of weeks. On one side lay a silent parking lot. On the other, a couple of people smoked cigarettes at tables in an outdoor pavilion. He was too far up for them to notice, but he wanted to make sure no one heard him through the plastic. So he sidled around a pallet of boxes and strode down the carpeted walkway to the far end.

  At least they’d had enough sense to lock the doors to the new wing. He pressed his forehead against the glass and squinted inside. All clear.

  Chain clinked against his thigh as he dug a black wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. Thumbing past his GTO Club membership and an ATM card for his savings account, he found the laminated piece of paper. It took him a couple of seconds to roll his tongue around the inside of his mouth, working up saliva, but when he was ready, he held out the card and spit on the magick sigil in the middle.

  Bull’s-eye.

  “Priya, come,” he commanded.

  The air shimmered, and a ball of light appeared. He stepped back to give the guardian room to land and watched as two enormous black wings flapped into view. The boy’s body soon followed. No shirt. Weird-ass gray skin. Mass of black spiky hair that looked like a Brillo pad that had been chewed up by a garbage disposal. (He should know; it had taken him an entire month of lawn mowing to work off the debt of repairing the disposal when he’d not so accidentally dropped one down the sink.)

  The Æthryic guardian shook the walkway when he landed. His wings made a snapping sound as they folded into place behind his back. He looked pissed. Sounded it, too. “I told you not to summon me unless it was vital.”

  “And I told you, Cady said I could summon you whenever I damn well pleased.”

  “I feel quite certain she said no such thing. But now that I’m here, get on with it, and tell me why you called. I am busy doing important work.”

  “Pfft. Like what?” Jupe flicked a look toward the creature’s bare chest. “Getting some sort of nuclear tan?”

  Priya growled, flashing a row of pointy silver teeth. “I grow weary of your verbal puzzles, Kerub.”

  God, what a douche. Worst servant ever. He didn’t understand why Cady put up with him. Then again, if the creature hadn’t come to Jupe a month ago to tell them what had happened with Mr. Dare in Tambuku, Cady might be dead. Grumbling to himself, Jupe bent to wipe Priya’s sigil card on the industrial carpet. It only moved the spit around on the laminate. He gave up and wiped it on the leg of his jeans. “Cady’s awake.”

  Anger drained from the creature’s face. “When?”

  “Last night.”

  “Why didn’t you summon me immediately? Is she well?”

  “She’s in and out of consciousness. They said it was normal. Might take a couple of days for her to shake it o
ff. But . . .”

  “But what?” Over his bare shoulders, the tops of Priya’s wings shifted anxiously.

  “Doctor said best-case, they’d still have to keep her in the hospital for a week. Longer if she can’t walk.”

  “She will walk. She is very strong. What of her mother? Has Enola been communicating with her in her dreams?”

  Jupe shook his head. “No idea. She hasn’t mentioned it, but she’s having trouble remembering things. She’s pretty doped up, so I’m not sure if she really knows who I am. And we’re not supposed to talk about anything upsetting or stressful in front of her. Dad’s been trying to get in touch with Dr. Mick—that’s the Earthbound doctor who healed—”

  “Yes, yes,” Priya said irritably. “You have spoken of this healer many times.”

  Whatever. “Anyway, Dr. Mick is the one who can release Cady. Dad wants to get her home ASAP.”

  “Your father needs to get her into a protected place immediately.”

  “That’s what I just said. ASAP—it means as soon as possible.” God, this guy was as dense as a brick wall. Were all Hermeneus spirits like this or just him?

  “Then your healer should release her into Lon’s care,” Priya said. “A-S-A-P.”

  “Aren’t you listening to me? Dr. Mick’s mom died. He’s at her funeral. In Australia.”

  “Where is this? Can you go there?”

  “Australia? Are you kidding? It’s a billion miles away. My dad’s flown there before for work, and it takes an entire day on a plane. You do know what an airplane is, don’t you?”

  The creature snapped his wings open like one of those dinosaurs that spreads its frill to make it seem bigger than it really is. As far as intimidations went, it was a good one. And it was at times like this that Jupe wished like hell he had his father’s ability to transmutate. A couple of bad-ass demon horns would really come in handy.

  Priya pointed a long finger in Jupe’s direction. “Listen to me, Kerub, and listen well. Arcadia’s mother is scouring the Æthyr for a demon capable of sending her back to this plane. If you care anything at all for Arcadia—”

  “More than you.”

  “Then tell your father to get her to a warded place immediately. I do not know how long she will be safe. A few days. A week. Possibly a fortnight.”

  Jupe opened his mouth to ask what the hell a fortnight was, but Priya flashed a mouthful of crooked silver teeth. Kind of creepy. And Jupe could already see the static erupting over the creature’s skin; Priya seemed to have less and less power to keep himself solid every time Jupe summoned him.

  “Arcadia must seek protection,” the creature said. “She must find the spell her mother used during Arcadia’s conception and uncover a way to reverse it, or her mother will cross the planes to claim her.”

  “I’ve told you a million times, Cady will fight her mom,” Jupe said confidently. “Besides, nothing that crosses the Æthyr can live on this plane permanently. You said so yourself. I mean, look at you. You can’t even stay here five minutes.”

  Priya’s eyes narrowed as he leaned closer. “Enola Duval wants to cross the planes permanently. She seeks old, irreversible magick that will bond her soul to Arcadia’s so that Enola will occupy her body.”

  Jupe stilled. “Earthbound,” he whispered in shock. “Cady’s mom wants to be one of us?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. And do you know what happens to souls when a new one possesses their physical body?” Priya struck a fist against his palm, causing Jupe to jump. “If Enola takes Arcadia’s body, Arcadia will become nothing but a sack of energy existing to keep her mother alive. She may as well be dead.”

  Blurry memories of my hospital room rearranged themselves like frames of film spliced out of order. Nurses. Doctors. A painful catheter being removed. Being walked to the bathroom, my legs too weak to support my weight. Everything smelled funny. I wanted a real bath. I wanted my ribs to stop hurting.

  And I wanted my brain to work better.

  Pain meds slowed everything down. Made me dream crazy things. But I wasn’t dreaming now. I was awake.

  I gazed up at an enormous circle of sigils painted on the ceiling. A circle inside a circle. Two spells. One that prevented magick from being used. The other was magick to hide something. The same ward we’d seen on the boat Lon chartered last fall.

  “It’s to keep your mother out,” a kindly female voice said.

  I craned my neck to see the haloed head of one of Lon’s housekeepers, knitting in a chair by the fireplace. This wasn’t the hospital. I was home.

  “Mrs. Holiday.”

  “Hello, Cady, darling,” she said, tucking her needles and yarn into the chair cushion. “You with us this time?”

  “Yes, I think I am.”

  “Good. Lon gave you something to clear out the medicine. He said it would take you an hour or so to wake. He’ll be back from the store any minute. How does a bath sound?”

  “Heavenly.”

  What I really wanted was half an hour in Lon’s luxury steam shower, but I was too weak to stand by myself. Still, the tub was nice. Once I’d sloughed off a few layers of dead skin cells and brushed my teeth until my gums bled, the Holidays got me back into bed and left the room, and when they returned, Lon was with them.

  His expectant face brightened when he walked into the bedroom, dressed in a thin brown leather jacket and jeans. Green eyes squinting, he strode through a patch of sunlight to pull a chair over to the side of the bed while Mrs. Holiday set down a tray of food. The Holidays left us alone, pulling the door shut behind them.

  He sat down and leaned close. He had a full beard, a darker shade of his honey-brown hair, with two streaks of silvery gray at the chin—gray I’d never seen when he had it trimmed down to the pirate mustache. Had it always been there, or did my time in the hospital cause it?

  Gray or not, beard or not, he was divine to look upon, painfully handsome and oh-so-serious. At that moment, I felt as if I hadn’t seen him for months.

  “Oh, Lon.”

  “Thank God,” he mumbled, dropping kisses over my eyes. “I couldn’t sense anything through the morphine. Damn, it feels good to hear you again.” It took me a second to realize what he meant: he could “hear” my feelings with his demonic knack. “You scared”—he kissed one cheek—“the living shit”—he kissed the other cheek—“out of me.”

  When his lips pressed against mine, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close, crying a little. Drowning a little.

  He pulled back and wiped my face with trembling fingers as I wiped his. We both laughed at ourselves. Then he sat back down and slid one warm hand around mine. “Christ, I’ve missed you.”

  “How long was I—”

  “You’ve been home a day.”

  “What about the hospital?”

  He ran his fingers over the damp hair near my ear, sending pleasant shivers racing across my skin. “Three days since that first night you woke up. Do you remember that now?”

  Barely. It was all so . . . confusing. “I remember dreaming you were some crazy mountain man coming to kill me. What’s all this?” I raked my fingers through his beard.

  “Laziness.”

  “Hides the tic in your jaw,” I teased. “How will I know when you’re mad now?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll shave it.”

  “It’s sort of sexy.”

  “You won’t say that when it’s scraping sensitive skin.”

  “Don’t tease me when I’m feeble and debilitated. What’s the date?”

  “February fifth.”

  February . . . I’d been in the hospital an entire month?

  “Are you in pain?” he asked.

  “Everything aches. My ribs hurt when I bend a certain way.”

  “Then don’t bend that way.”

  I smiled. “What did you give me?”

  “Ginkgo biloba and the detox medicinal you gave Bob when he quit drinking. They had you on morphine after you woke, because Mick wasn’t
there to tell them no. You were pretty out of it.”

  “Mick. Your Earthbound doctor friend?” One of the best surgeons in La Sirena, Lon had bragged, thanks to a crazy-strong healing knack.

  “He did most of your work. Do you remember?”

  The faces of several doctors and nurses blurred in my mind.

  “Do you remember Mick telling you anything before he put you under for healing?”

  “Like what?”

  “Something very important. Think, Cady.”

  Whatever he wanted me to remember, he was super-intense about it, so I tried harder. Something finally came into focus inside my head. Yes, that’s right. I remembered Mick in the hospital. Remembered his bright blue halo and his handsome smile. But he wasn’t smiling when I was hurt, was he? No. I was remembering meeting him before I got hurt. The night before—

  “I killed Dare,” I said, suddenly sobering. Not just Dare but also his thugs, the ones who beat and punched and kicked my body until I nearly died myself. “They trapped me, Lon. Dare knew I could be trapped in a binding triangle. He knew, and he . . .” I inhaled a shaky breath.

  Lon’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Don’t you even think about being sorry.”

  Never. I steadied my emotions and concentrated on the here and now. “Do the police know?”

  He reached over to the tray and uncovered a bowl of soup. An intoxicating scent wafted from the steam. “Chicken stock. Ginger. Seaweed. Vegetables.”

  “You made it?”

  “Same thing I make when Jupe’s sick. Plus a few other things.” When I began to ask what those “things” were, he cut me off with a stern look. “Just eat it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thank God for Lon’s cooking skills. It tasted a thousand times better than the hospital’s canned soup. Between spoonfuls, I said, “See, I’m eating. Now, tell me. Am I going to jail?”

  He shook his head. “I paid someone to collect the ash and bone from Tambuku before anyone else showed up.”

  “Who?”

  His eye twitched. “Someone Hajo works with when he’s death dowsing.”

  “Oh, God.”