Ritual of the Broken (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 24

Chapter

Twenty-Four

O llie closed the journal, his fingers lingering on the worn leather cover. The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a somber pall over the room.

“We need to talk to the ghost, Isabell,” he said, his voice solemn.

Mary Ann’s eyes widened. She stared at him like he’d just offered her a wad of free cash. “You mean a ghost summoning? A real ghost? Seriously?”

Ollie nodded, his expression grave. “This is not a Ouija board, Mary Ann. We’re not at a sleepover where we all say Boody Mary into a bathroom mirror.”

Mary Ann pursed her lips. “Please. I spend all day at work telling people how to get in touch with their spirit guides and talk to their deceased loved ones.” She crossed her arms. “And you do, too, I might add. It’s your shop. ”

“They’re just people looking for comfort and answers. They don’t have a lot of control in their lives.”

“You sell them all that stuff in your store, and you don’t even believe in it.”

Ollie faced Mary Ann. “I never said I don’t believe in it. I know it’s real. All of it. But the people who come into my store want simple answers. They want to do things the easy way by lighting some candles and manifesting a better tomorrow.” He turned to meet her gaze to ensure she understood what he said. “I’m a mage. I grew up with a connection to forces far outside the reach of mortals. It’s a primordial force that requires more than a few lit candles and some meditation.”

Adrian made a sound. “I’ve seen you do magic. Looks to me like all you do is light candles, mutter some words, maybe pull a leaf or some dust out of that bag of yours, and shit starts flying around the room.”

He turned to Adrian. “Working magic takes a lot more than that. We have to tap into the latent power that exists all around us. It’s like reaching into a deep well that threatens to swallow you every time you drop a bucket in. I had to learn how to control that power as it coursed through me, to direct it, and to shape it. When I weave a spell, it’s not just an act of will. It’s a dance with forces far older than any of us. Older than the ground we’re standing on. I’m tapping into something primal, something that exists in the spaces between this world and... others.”

Ollie referred to the crystals and candles that Mary Ann brought out when he needed to break the tracking wards.

“These stones, these herbs, these tools... They’re just trinkets. But sometimes, they’re like tuning forks, helping me attune to the right frequency. They’re not required. They’re not even really all that special, but we can direct power through them. The power itself... that comes from somewhere much deeper, much more ancient. It takes a lot of mental fortitude to work magic.”

“And sometimes you teleport yourself in front of a raging shadow beast.” Adrian half-smiled. He leaned closer to push knuckles on Ollie’s shoulder in a gesture that suggested he was just kidding.

Mary Ann looked at him. “You did that?”

Ollie’s face felt hot. “It was only once. And it wasn’t intentional.” He waved a hand and picked up the journal still open to Isabell’s picture. “Anyway, we’re getting off track. This ghost, Isabell, has been haunting me ever since my mother died, which leads me to believe she has something to tell me. We need to ask her.”

“From what I’ve seen, she doesn’t really come when called,” Adrian said.

Ollie shook his head. “They typically don’t unless they want to. She seems to appear when she wants to.” Ollie thought about all the times he’d seen her since she started appearing right after his mother died.

Ollie leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the journal as he contemplated his enigmatic ghost ancestor. A pattern began to emerge, her appearances seemingly tied to moments of heightened emotion. He cast his mind back, recalling the instances where her spectral form had manifested.

The first time was after his mother’s tragic passing, a period shrouded in grief and anguish. Isabell had appeared the day he felt his mother’s power push through him. At the exact same time, actually. Other times, she just showed up. He’d walk around a corner and find her standing there. Ghosts worked on energy. He remembered that much from the academy. She could most likely pull from the latent energy in the items in the shop and from the ley line that flowed through, so her appearance there made sense. Maybe there wasn’t enough power for her to act, but the energy of the wards in his shop, along with the lesser energy of the crystals, could give her enough power to manifest.

The other times she appeared coincided with moments of frustration or anger, such as when his magic misfired or he felt the weight of his family’s controversial legacy bearing down upon him. And now that he knew they were tied together by blood, perhaps she fed off his energy somehow.

In fact, her most recent manifestation came when they were attacked by the Synod mages, when their lives were threatened, and when his grip on the tracking runes faltered. Her presence became amplified by the intensity of his emotions. That meant, if she was going to have the strength to speak to them, Ollie needed to provide her with enough fuel by pushing his emotions .

And he had an idea.

Adrian probably wasn’t going to like it.

“We need something from my shop,” Ollie said. He turned to Mary Ann. “I can’t go there. The Synod will most likely be watching. I need you to get something from my office.”

Mary Ann jumped up as soon as Ollie explained where he kept what she was to retrieve. He gave her orders to put it into a merchandise bag so any mages using mage sight wouldn’t really figure out what it was. The item he needed was kept in a case warded to turn magic inward, so there was little chance it would read as magic to other mages.

“What’s she getting?” Adrian asked as soon as Mary Ann left them alone in the apartment.

Ollie leaned back, fixing Adrian with a wry smile. “Just a little something to help us out.” He didn’t elaborate further, evading the question.

Adrian raised an eyebrow, his cop instincts clearly sensing Ollie’s evasiveness, but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, his gaze softened, and he studied Ollie’s features until Ollie’s cheeks ran warm.

“What?” Ollie’s smile widened. His fingers drummed restlessly against the journal’s cover.

“You know,” Adrian began, his voice lowering to a gentler register, “when we first met, I never would have guessed you carried so much weight on those shoulders.”

Ollie’s fingers stilled, surprise flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

“The way you carry yourself, always with that easy smile and that mischievous glint in your eye,” Adrian explained. “You have this air of carefree charm about you. But now, seeing you like this, I realize there’s a depth to you that I never suspected.”

A faint blush crept up Ollie’s neck, and he ducked his head, suddenly self-conscious under Adrian’s perceptive gaze. “I’ve had to learn how to keep things light,” he admitted. “If I dwelled on the weight of it all, I’d never get out of bed in the morning.”

Adrian nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. He reached out, his fingers grazing the back of Ollie’s hand in a gentle, reassuring gesture. “You don’t have to carry it alone, you know.” Their eyes met. “Now we can face it together.”

The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through Ollie’s veins, and he found himself leaning into Adrian’s warmth, drawn to the strength he exuded. In that moment, the weight he’d been carrying seemed to lift ever so slightly.

“The same goes for you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

A comfortable silence settled between them. Ollie found himself studying the sharp angles of Adrian’s face, the rugged lines etched by a life of hardship and determination.

“Can you believe it’s only been three days?” Adrian said, suddenly.

Ollie smiled up at him. “I feel like I’ve known you for longer.” Without conscious thought, he reached up, tracing the curve of Adrian’s jaw with the pad of his thumb, reveling in the rasp of stubble against his skin.

Adrian’s breath caught in his throat, and he turned his face into Ollie’s touch, his eyes drifting shut. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips finding Ollie’s in a tentative, exploratory kiss.

Ollie melted into the embrace, parting his lips and deepening the kiss, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of Adrian’s hair. A low, rumbling sound escaped Adrian’s throat, and he pulled Ollie closer, their bodies pressing together in a delicious tangle of heat and desire.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, Ollie felt a warmth blooming in his chest, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in far too long. He traced the curve of Adrian’s smile with his fingertips, committing the moment to memory.

“We should probably order some food while we wait for Mary Ann,” he murmured, his voice husky with want.

Adrian chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Ollie’s spine. “Good idea,” he agreed, reaching for his phone.

As Adrian scrolled through the food delivery apps, Ollie pressed a series of featherlight kisses along the line of his jaw, his touch playful and teasing. Adrian swatted at him halfheartedly, trying and failing to maintain his focus on the screen.

“You’re a menace.” His tone was accusatory, but there was no heat behind the words, only fond exasperation. His smile looked hungry, and not for any food they were considering.

Ollie grinned, unrepentant, and plucked the phone from Adrian’s grasp, tossing it aside carelessly. “Food can wait,” he murmured, capturing Adrian’s lips in another searing kiss.

Adrian melted into the embrace, all thoughts of food forgotten as he lost himself in the intoxicating dance of lips and tongues and roaming hands. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared, a bond forged in the fires of danger and desire, burning brighter with each passing second.

The experience at the Synod’s hospital still stood fresh in Ollie’s mind, and he wasn’t about to repeat the same mistake again. He waved a hand, and Mary Ann’s curtains snapped closed. Then he found his way onto Adrian’s lap, his hands moving beneath the hem of his T-shirt until Ollie pulled it up, revealing those taut abs and the light splay of chest hair. Ollie explored and nuzzled against the light down on Adrian’s chest. The invitation wasn’t ignored, and Ollie moved his lips down to kiss the space between his pecs.

Adrian tried to roll him over, but Ollie stopped him.

“Uh-uh. Not this time.” Ollie pushed him back onto the couch with a mischievous expression.

The atmosphere crackled with electric tension as Ollie pulled Adrian’s T-shirt off, exposing inch after tantalizing inch of sun-kissed skin. Adrian’s breath hitched, his eyes dark with desire as Ollie moved atop him .

He dipped down again to Adrian’s chest and worked his tongue between his abs until he reached the button of Adrian’s pants.

“Is this how the wolves do it?” Ollie gripped the fabric of Adrian’s fly and gnashed with his teeth until the button worked free and the zipper slid open.

Adrian’s fingers tangled in Ollie’s hair. “There’s usually a lot more teeth and claws involved when wolves do it.”

“Oh, really.” Ollie reached up with a hand and ran his fingernails over Adrian’s chest until Adrian groaned. As he did so, he opened his mouth wide and bit the mound of Adrian’s cock still trapped beneath the fabric of his jeans. Not hard, but playful.

The sound coming from Adrian only encouraged Ollie to continue, his teeth grazing over the stiffening package that now pushed up between the open V of Adrian’s pants. As soon as the head of Adrian’s swelling cock showed, Ollie lapped at it with his tongue.

“Oh, yeah. Okay,” Adrian gasped between ragged breaths. “That works.”

Encouraged, Ollie pushed his mouth farther down onto Adrian’s hard cock.

Adrian let out a low groan, thrusting his hips forward. “Ollie, fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

Ollie smirked, feeling a surge of confidence. He lowered his head, taking Adrian’s cock deeper into his mouth. He could taste the salty precum on his tongue, and he moaned around the shaft, feeling it twitch in response. He bobbed his head up and down, sucking and licking, as Adrian’s hands gripped his hair until Ollie thought Adrian couldn’t hold it any longer.

But Adrian pulled Ollie up, his eyes blazing with lust. “My turn,” he growled, lifting Ollie as if he weighed nothing. He swiped his arm over Mary Ann’s coffee table, scattering the television remotes and a stack of unopened mail onto the floor, and he laid Ollie down on the coffee table, pushing his legs apart. Before Ollie could protest, Adrian had the front of his pants open, causing Ollie to gasp as he felt Adrian’s mouth on his cock.

Adrian’s tongue was skilled, swirling around the head before taking him deep into his throat. If he had the presence of mind to think, maybe he’d take notes because gods, this was amazing. Ollie’s fingers clenched the edge of the table, his back arching as pleasure coursed through him. He could feel the pressure building, his balls tightening.

He was close.

And just as he was about to come, there was the sound of a key in the lock of the apartment door...

“Shit!” Ollie hissed, pulling away from Adrian. They both scrambled to get dressed, but Ollie’s hands were shaking too much to fasten his buttons. In desperation, he waved his hand, visualized a hasty sigil that popped into view before him, and muttered a quick spell.

A flash of light filled the apartment like a camera flash. Their clothes were on again—but not quite right. Ollie’s pants were on backwards, and Adrian’s shirt was inside out. Even the clothes they kept on during their little side exploration were somehow wrong.

There were also extra clothes scattered around the room: T-shirts, an old dress that could have been worn by a 1930s housewife, a pair of jeans three sizes too large, worn leather shoes, a red Speedo swimsuit still dripping water, and several other items of clothing that seemed to have materialized out of thin air.

Mary Ann opened the door, her eyes widening as she took in the scene in her apartment. “Uh, guys?” She surveyed the room, then studied both Adrian and Ollie so that Ollie could almost see the gears turning in her head as she put it all together. Then she tilted her head and shifted her weight. “Tell me you two did not have sex in my apartment.”

Ollie’s face turned beet-red as he tried to explain, but his words came out in a jumbled mess. He could feel Adrian’s hand on his back, grounding him, and he took a deep breath.

“We were just... practicing some magic,” he said lamely.

With a sigh, she entered the apartment. “I better not need to have anything steam-cleaned.” But the rest of the mess seemed to register then. “Is that a negligee? And whose shoes are these?” She turned back to Ollie and Adrian. “Did you… Did you guys invite other people?”

“No,” Ollie said quickly. “It was just…” He stared at the scattered clothes. “Just us, I promise.” Then he lifted his fingers and gave them a wi ggle. “And some magic.”

Mary Ann hooked a finger through a strap and lifted a cocktail gown with sequins off a lampshade. “What kind of magic?”

“The Ollie kind,” Adrian said.

Mary Ann raised an eyebrow and looked between them, her eyes seeming to catch on Adrian as he pulled his shirt off and turned it rightside out. Ollie couldn’t blame her, because Adrian was easy to look at.

With a puffed breath, Mary Ann shook her head. “Whatever. I have a feeling my life is going to get a lot weirder than this.” She put what she carried onto the dinette table and paused. “And oddly, I’m okay with that.” Then she pushed a bag marked with Rowan & Co’s logo toward Ollie. “This what you were looking for?”

Ollie peered into the bag. Inside was a simple wooden box seemingly without any seams or ways to open it—a puzzle box that could only be opened in a particular way. Truthfully, the box was marked with runes and sigils from a dozen ancient languages, but those runes were on the inside. “This is it,” Ollie said.

Adrian moved closer and looked into the bag, too. “Okay, so what exactly are we doing with it?”

Ollie lifted the box from the bag and put it onto the table. “We’re going to use it to contact Isabell,” he said. “And hopefully, she can tell us what we need to know to stop the ritual.”