Southern Witch - Would-Be Witch Part 27

I nodded.

"You make a nice couple. Es muy . . . he's very handsome."

"Thank you." Too bad I didn't have Mercutio's paws to claw her eyes out with.

"I have an idea, a way that we can get these wolves off our backs as you say."

"Just why are they on your back?" I asked, thinking maybe I could figure out why they were after me, too.

"I killed one of them at the meeting. My magic marks his blood, and the wolves in his pack will track me with it until I'm dead or until they can be thrown from the scent."

"We were just defending ourselves."

"Yes, I was. Will you help me in casting a spell?"

I gave her a once-over, trying to figure out her game. "Why do you need me?"

"I don't have power enough to do it myself, and Bryn prefers not to share power. But you've got some very nice raw energy. I'll tell you the words, and we can work the magic together and get these wolves to leave your town."

Astrid cared about Duvall about as much as she cared about the state of Barbara Bush's pedicure, but she wanted to save her own skin and that could work out for both of us.

"I would love for them to hightail it out of Duvall. I really would, but I've got to get a couple of things. You think you could distract Bryn's butler for a few minutes?"

"Certainly. A few minutes is not difficult."

Fish in a bathtub. I hurried out of the room and up the stairs. I opened the door to Bryn's room and stopped at the delicious smell. Sandalwood and s.e.x magic clung to the air, making my knees quake.

I felt like rolling around on the feather duvet and maybe licking some strawberry sauce off Bryn's naked body. But I vetoed this idea since, one, I had important things to do, and two, he wasn't around.

I searched the obvious hiding places for my stuff, under the bed, in the drawers, under the bathroom sink, but didn't find anything. I zipped to the back of the closet. I wished there were some fur coats I could just magically walk through, but no such luck. It was all silk ties, Italian shoes, and a lock that was determined to keep me out.

Pus.h.i.+ng against the door though, I realized it wasn't that thick. I walked to the beginning of the closet, dug the heels of my boots in and ran.

I slammed my shoulder into the door, and it snapped open. I landed on the floor, glad and not-so-glad at once. I rubbed my arm, where I was sure to have a Texas-size bruise in the morning, then got up. At the desk, I lifted a framed antique photograph of the Gulf coast and Galveston Bay and, right under it, I found my spellbook sitting on the desk.

"Thief." I shook my head. I looked on the shelves and quickly rifled through the desk drawers. I got my hopes up at a small padded velvet pouch. Inside, I found seven amazingly s.h.i.+ny gold coins, older than Edie, and nearly as pretty. Not my locket at all, but valuable and tucked away like they meant something important to Bryn. And I needed leverage. I got to thinking maybe I could trade them back to him for my locket. I didn't want to play dirty pool, but October twenty-third was nearly a memory.

I grabbed a piece of paper and scrawled a note. I left it under a pewter paperweight of the planet Saturn. I got to the hall and dumped my book in my tote bag and ran down the stairs. "Astrid!" I stage whispered.

"Here," she said, walking out of the living room.

"Let's go," I said, rus.h.i.+ng to the front door and flinging it open. I looked around then ran to the Dodge.

"We can take my car. It's fast," she called.

"No, we'll drive separate," I said.

"Fine. We'll meet at the tor."

I stopped. "Oh, no. Not that place!"

"We need its power. No time to argue," she said, getting in her car.

I chewed my lip, but didn't really have any choice. I hopped into the Dodge and gunned it to the gate. How could I make a quick getaway if the gate didn't open? Then I noticed a security intercom I hadn't seen before because it was hidden by a hedge. "Now how was I supposed to see that?" What were they trying to do? Make things look nice? Ridiculous. I stabbed the b.u.t.ton with my finger. "Hi, I'm leaving now."

"I don't think so," the security guy said.

"What? Why not?"

"I saw you on the upstairs hallway camera. You stole something from Mr. Lyons."

True. "No, I didn't. It was my book that I was putting in my bag. I left it here last night."

"Mr. Lyons will be home soon. He can confirm that."

"I don't have time to wait for him. Besides he knows where I live. He'll track me down soon enough if he sees fit to. Now open the gate."

"I don't think so."

"The Duvall sheriff's office is on my cell phone's speed dial. If you don't let me out right now, I guarantee you'll have a heap of questions to answer."

I waited, holding my breath. I had a sack of stolen coins and a witch's spellbook. If I called the sheriff they'd be bound to search through my tote bag, and just what was I going to say about the contents? Nope, definitely bluffing about that call. Lucky for me, the guy's not a poker player.

The gate slid open.

"Yippee!" I shouted in a whisper.

I zoomed past the gate and onto the street. Then I paused to let Astrid zip out in front of me. From the Ram, it looked like she was driving a matchbook car.

I hoped Mercutio was having fun with the Solarium birds because he was going to miss one h.e.l.l of an adventure with me and Astrid banis.h.i.+ng all the wolves with a spell. Probably after today, I'd be retired from adventures. But that would be all right. I was pretty sure Merc would enjoy the quiet cake-baking life as much as me. After all, he'd get to eat his share of heavy cream while I whipped up desserts.

Yep, all I needed was to drive the werewolves off, find Edie, cure Zach, and get a new job. Piece of cake. Well, a five-layer, two-days-in-the-making, and every-pan-in-the-kitchen-dirty Death by Chocolate Cake maybe.

We got to the tor, and I broke out in a sweat at the thought of going back up there and drawing on that power. I wanted it and dreaded it, too. It was the same way I felt about being with Zach or Bryn for that matter. And I didn't see why things couldn't just be nice and simple for once. Didn't I deserve a break for working really hard and having good intentions?

But maybe things were going to be okay. I only had a few big problems, and I was about to solve one. I just needed to stay focused and think positive thoughts. I parked the Ram behind Astrid's little car and followed her to the chapel.

"We're going to do it inside?" I asked. I'd never known Momma or Aunt Mel to cast spells in Holy places.

I'd gotten half a step in when someone grabbed me. My mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. I was face-to-face with the werewolf who had ambushed me on the chapel roof. The one who'd been mad that I hadn't been afraid of him. He wouldn't have to get mad today.

Chapter 26.

I looked around the chapel. There were three of the wolf-men inside. One that I didn't recognize was at the window, keeping watch. The third one was the lanky man, the tracker from Jammers. He stepped forward, and his straight, greasy hair and patchy beard made me very much want to direct him to Johnny's hair salon, but it wasn't the time. He stood in front of me and patted me down for weapons while the guy from the roof held my wrists in a tight grip behind my back.

I looked at Astrid, but she wouldn't make eye contact with me.

"You have her now," she said.

Next time a strange witch asks me to cast a spell with her, I'm going to be busy making pancakes or waffles. If the town has to get eaten by werewolves or walloped by plagues, that's just not going to be my problem.

My mouth was dry and my hands trembled as I tried to think of a way to get out. The tracker pushed Astrid away from me until she was pressed to the wall, then bent his head to the crook of her neck. She squirmed.

"Enough of this," she said. "I've kept my part of the agreement. I expect you to keep yours. As you see, I was not a party to whatever she did before the meeting."

"I didn't do anything," I protested.

The lanky man took a deep breath and then stepped back from Astrid. "She's clean."

"Go," the one holding me said to Astrid.

"I'm clean, too. I used plenty of Dial soap in my shower today." I tried to keep things light and casual, which is hard to do when you're a hostage. My heart hammered, but I tried not to pa.s.s out.

Astrid left without so much as a good-bye. The lanky guy stepped up to me, leaning to put his nose right into the vee of the jersey. I tried to back up, but ran into the canine wall behind me.

"It's like I told you, Samuel. She wounded Jeff at the witches' meeting, but she didn't kill Diego. I can't even pick up Diego's scent on her anymore."

"But her house had it," he growled from behind me.

"Yeah, Diego's scent mixed with blood and magic. Someone else's blood, not hers."

Samuel spun me around to face him, squeezing hard on my upper arms. He growled, showing long, jagged teeth. "Who killed Diego?"

My heart raced as fast as my mind. "I sure don't know. I never met anyone called Diego. And there weren't any murders in Duvall before you showed up."

He grabbed my throat with one hand and squeezed. Lights danced before my eyes, and my knees went watery. "The only ones dying around here have been wolves, but that's going to change. I promise you."

He was strong enough to crush my windpipe and kill me with one hand, but he didn't. He let go of my throat, but kept a hold on my arm.

"I'm telling you. Diego bit whoever attacked him," the tracker said.

Samuel glanced at him. "We've been over this," he growled. "I don't care how powerful a witch or wizard it was; Diego's bite would have killed whoever it was by now. We're still tracking Diego's scent, so the killer is alive. And if this b.i.t.c.h didn't do it, she's at least had him into her house." He yanked on my arm, making me stumble.

n.o.body had come to my house and bled on the furniture. Could I have picked up the scent somewhere and tracked it in on my shoes?

"Tell me what you know."

"I don't know anything. I'm not even really a witch-"

The blow caught me across the cheek and knocked me down.

"You lie to me again, and I'll break all the bones in your left arm."

"Samuel!" the man at the window growled as Samuel caught me by the arm and pulled me back to my feet.

"What?"

"Police cars."

I rubbed my cheek as the door swung in. Zach stood in the doorway with a shotgun leveled into the room. Samuel yanked me in front of him.

"Y'all wanna live, you might want to think about lettin' her go," Zach drawled, voice smooth and easy like he was asking them to pa.s.s him a bag of Cheetos.

Samuel glanced at the window and made a tiny motion with his head. In a flash of speed, the other two crashed through it and were gone. I heard the popping of gunfire from outside, but Zach didn't look to the window. He watched us.

Samuel dragged me toward the window, whispering in my ear. "I want you to know I'm going to kill you. Before that though, you're going to suffer the Ritual of the Nine. Nine hours of having your bones broken from smallest to largest. Pain beyond imagining."

My heart seized up in a sharp contraction, and I bit down on my lip as I started to shake. Zach walked into the chapel with us, calm as suns.h.i.+ne, waiting for his moment.

Suddenly I was flying forward. Zach got the gun barrel up just in time. I crashed into him and fell to the floor.

Zach swung the gun and fired it. The thundering blast echoed in my ears, and my wrist ached where I'd landed on it, but I didn't care. They were gone, and I was still alive.

Zach ran to the window and looked out. "Winged him, but he kept going." He walked over to me with a grim expression.

"The other two?" I asked.

"Gone, I guess. You all right?" he said, putting a hand out to lift me up.

I moved my wrist gingerly. It was mighty sore, but not broken. "I'm okay."

He tipped up my chin so he could look at my cheek.

"When I catch that son of a b.i.t.c.h, he's going to fall down a couple flights of stairs before I throw his a.s.s in a cell."

I sat down on a wood bench so I could shake without falling down. "How did you find me?"

"I got to Lyons's house just as you were coming out. Followed you." Not all jealous ex-husbands come in handy, but mine definitely does. "Now, are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"I don't know."

"You must know something. What did they say?"

I shuddered, thinking about the torture ritual. "One of their gang members was killed, and they thought I might have done it."

Zach's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You?"

"They don't know me."

Zach looked me over. "But where would they even get an idea like that? I'm looking at you, and I can't see how anyone with half a brain would jump to that conclusion."

I thought about my quick-draw routine on the chapel roof. "Um, I don't know. They got some bad information."

"From who? Astrid?"

"For one," I said, my lips curling into an angry frown.

"She brought you up here to them? And left you?"