ATwistedMagick (17 page)

“By the shed.” Shylah dialed Gabe’s cell number. No answer. She got out of the car and looked up and down the street for Gabe’s rental. Nope. Calling Gabe’s number again, she went in search of Alain. She was even with the carport as he came jogging toward her with a lit phone in his hand. It was ringing.

“Gabe’s phone. Blood on it.”

“Dammit!” Feeling close to tears, she touched “End” on her phone so the other phone would stop ringing.

A patrol car arrived and they spent the next five minutes explaining who they were looking for and why. The cop knocked on Wann’s door. No answer. He searched around the house with a high-powered flashlight. Hain arrived soon after. She looked up Gabe’s rental car information and put out an APB, while trying to get a warrant for Wann’s premises. She’d put Gabe’s phone in an evidence bag, which nearly sent Shylah into hysterics. You put things in evidence bags at murder scenes. Gabe was not dead!

Hain patted her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s fine. Explain why he decided to stake out Wann’s tonight.”

“He showed his picture at the store and they recognized him.”

“What store?”

“My store…the one where my booth is. Becky recognized Wann from the photos and said he had been in there recently.”

“Why didn’t he call me with this information?”

“He said it was circumstantial.”

“It is.”

“So he wanted to find proof.”

“So he does something stupid and gets whacked over the head.” She paused. “But how do you know he got hit on the head other than a bit of blood on his phone?”

Shylah decided to fib a bit. “I was on the phone with him.”

“Well, no wonder someone got the drop on him if he’s busy talking on the phone.”

“Ugh! Come on. Do something!” Shylah yelled.

By now, neighbors had come out in bathrobes or half-zipped jeans. Hain went off to question a couple of them, leaving Shylah nibbling her nails. If only she could connect with Gabe again. He couldn’t be dead, could he? Why would Wann kill him if he couldn’t prove anything?

She got back in her car, closed her eyes and tried to block out the noisy voices and strobing lights. “Breathe deeply,” she told herself. “In and out, in and out.” She’d learned to put herself into a light trance long ago when she’d first started practicing on her own. It opened a person up to their spiritual side, a place they could never find during the bustle of everyday life.

She gagged. Nausea. Grogginess.

Where the hell was he?

Gabe tried to open his eyes but got sidetracked by the overwhelming smell of whisky. He seemed to be doused in it, but he knew he hadn’t been drinking. Bile rose in his throat. He rolled to the side to keep from choking if he did start puking, but after a moment he felt okay.

What was that noise? A horn? Like a fog horn? No. He tried to open his eyes again and succeeded, but noticed something sticky was caking his eyelashes. He was apparently somewhere dark, but now he heard bells as well as the drawn-out horn.

Sounds like…train.

“Tracks!” Shylah flew out of the car shouting to Detective Hain. “He’s by a train crossing.”

“And how do you know that?” Even as she said it, they could hear the train whistle in the distance.

“Where’s the closest crossing?”

A neighbor answered, “Westwood and Main.”

Shylah ran back to her car, with Alain and the dog following her. She wasn’t going to wait for Hain to decide whether she had legit info or not. She’d had the impression from the vision that Gabe was not in the front of the car, but in the trunk—it had been dark and stuffy—and if he was in the trunk and a train was coming…that didn’t bear thinking about.

Slipping the car into drive, she said, “Alain, open the glove compartment and get out my Swiss army knife.” She kept that along with some wipes, energy bars and spare batteries in the crammed space with her maps and registration. In the trunk, she had jumper cables, flares, a crowbar and a small tool box. She’d lived by the Girl Scout motto as she’d traveled alone the past couple of years.

“Got it. What’s it for?”

“I was thinking I could pick the lock with it. If not, I’ve got a crowbar in the trunk.”

“What lock?”

The train whistle sounded again. Ahead of them the lights of a train crossing flashed. The bars had lowered, but a car was already straddled across the tracks. It was facing them, headlights glaring in their eyes. The train was close enough that the tracks and everything around them rattled. Shylah pulled right up to the bar.

“Shylah, we don’t have time to pick the lock!”

Alain was right. The locomotive was bearing down. What could she do? She was putting faith in her vision that Gabe was even in the car.

“Goddess, help me,” she whispered. And suddenly she knew what she had to do. “Alain, you and the dog get out.”

“What?”

“Get out and get back…now!”

He opened the door and tugged Baron out then scrabbled backward out of the way. “But what are you going to do?”

Shylah didn’t even wait for him to shut the door. She gunned it.

“Shylah, no!”

She knew she could very easily be the one stuck on the tracks this way, but that was not her plan. She thought that if she hit the rental car enough it would roll backward down the embankment, keeping the trunk out of harm’s way, but she wouldn’t have time to follow it with her entire car, so she’d need to back up immediately to get back off the tracks.

“Goddess protect us!” She ignored the shattering glass and splintering wood and drove through the gate, up the slight bank, and hit the other car firmly. Since its rear wheels were already downhill on the opposite bank, it rolled as she’d hoped it would. The inside of her car was entirely lit up by the headlight of the oncoming train. Shylah resisted the urge to turn her head to see it coming at her. She didn’t have time to freeze. Action all the way. She prayed Alain hadn’t stepped back out into the street, because now she was gunning it in reverse. She cleared the track about five seconds before the train barreled through, its brakes screeching.

She jumped out of the car, heart racing, but she couldn’t cross the tracks to see if Gabe was all right in the other car until the train passed. It was slowing, probably so the engineer could see if anyone had been hurt. She popped her trunk and retrieved the crowbar. Luckily the train was only four cars, so she could finally cross behind it. Alain followed with the knife and the dog. A cop car had pulled up behind them, lights and siren going, but they ignored it.

“No one’s in the driver’s seat,” she yelled. The light plastic front bumper was smashed, but otherwise the car seemed fine. She hurried to the trunk and tried to jam the crowbar in the tiny space between the hood and the back.

“Give me that,” Alain said. He slammed the lock a few times until it broke and the trunk flew open. Gabe was in kind of a fetal position inside. Alain and Shylah each grabbed his hands to help him out. “Are you okay, dude?”

His hair was matted with blood. There was a cut over his eye that probably extended back over his ear. Shylah reached up to touch it, tears in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” Gabe said.

“I can’t believe you let him get the better of you,” Alain jibed.

Gabe scowled. “I can’t believe I did either.”

Instead of touching his injury, Shylah decided to push him. “Don’t you ever do something like that again! I can’t believe you didn’t tell Hain what you were doing or take backup or something!”

“I do this sort of thing all the time.”

“Then you suck at it and need to get into another profession.”

He shook his head as he peered at the train, now stopped a ways up the tracks. “Maybe so.”

The patrol officer crossed the tracks. “Is everyone all right?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

He clicked the radio on his shoulder and relayed the info. The voice at the other end sounded like Hain. “Bring ’em back here.” The officer corralled Gabe and Shylah into the patrol car and told Alain to follow him in Shylah’s car as he drove back to Wann’s. That man was sitting in the back of another squad car with Hain questioning him. Since his mouth remained clamped shut, Shylah guessed he wasn’t answering.

“How did you know to come to the tracks?” Gabe asked when they had a moment alone.

“I’ll try to explain later, okay?” She doubted he would believe her, so she dreaded that conversation.

Hain strode over to them. “We found Wann trying to sneak back in his house. He clammed up and asked for a lawyer, but your antics allowed us to get a warrant for his house. Forensics is inside. Hopefully we’ll find evidence to pull everything together. At the very least we have him for knocking you over the head and sticking you on the train tracks—attempted murder.”

“But I never actually saw him.”

“He didn’t have time to get blood spatter off his shovel and clothes. As long as the blood is yours, which we’re assuming it is, we’re good to go.”

Finally home after a crazy evening, Shylah, Alain, Gabe and the dog traipsed inside. No one said much as Alain fed the dog in the kitchen and Shylah cleaned off Gabe’s wound and stuck a bag of frozen peas on his head, since he’d avoided EMS at the scene. He hadn’t wanted to go to the hospital, so Shylah planned to wake him periodically—if they ever got to bed—to check for a concussion. Apparently getting hit over the head was nothing new for him either. He’d been telling them a story in the car about the last time it had happened—an angry ex he’d been tailing had conked him on the head with a hefty hotel phone book. Perhaps he needed to wear a football helmet during future investigations.

Alain got a drink of water. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but closed it again.

“Was something on your mind?” Gabe asked. “Why don’t you explain to Shylah why you lied to her about when you arrived in Virginia? And tell me why you were at her store in a wig?”

“Well, I…” He stopped, looked confused, then shook his head. “You’re mistaken. Who made you think such a thing?”

“The ladies at Good Karma recognized you from being in there yesterday.”

“Alain, how did you even know where I worked?”

He clamped his mouth shut as if he wasn’t going to answer but kept clearing his throat like a tic. “Fine! I found you on the internet. Someone was talking smack about you on a Virginia teachers’ message board. They said you were a witch and they said where you worked.”

“Really? Oh my God!” Shylah had no doubt she knew who she could credit with that nastiness.

“So I thought I’d go by the store and surprise you.”

“In disguise?”

“Not a surprise if you see me walking up the street. But you weren’t there at the time.”

“How did you find her home address?” Gabe asked.

“Once I knew the state, it just took a little more poking around online.”

“And you lied because…?”

“I heard about the murder on the radio. Didn’t want to be a suspect.”

Shylah looked at Gabe. Neither one of them brought up Wanda Nance. It was too late to deal with such things.

Alain’s mouth opened and closed like a fish and he kept clearing his throat. Suddenly he burst out, “I think I just need some sleep!”

“We all do.”

“Yeah, sleep will do the trick.” He, followed by the dog, jogged up the stairs as if he couldn’t stand another moment in their presence.

“Was he acting even stranger than usual?” Gabe asked.

“I’m too tired to care. I’ve got some healing ointment for the gash, but I think the huge bump is going to be your biggest problem.” She found the jar she needed and slathered on the gel. “How about some willow bark tea for pain?”

“How about some ibuprofen? Please tell me you have some.”

She rolled her eyes. “Upstairs.” She didn’t mention that she kept the stuff for menstrual cramps only, the ones that natural remedies didn’t touch.

“Make sure all the doors and windows are locked.”

“Wann’s been arrested.”

“Humor me.” He followed her around as she checked everything and turned off the lights. Then he followed her upstairs to her bedroom.

Shylah paused and tapped her lip. “What do you think of a bath for two?”

Gabe grinned. “I could be up for that.” He emphasized the up.

Shylah returned his smile and went into the bathroom, lighting a row of votive candles that ran along a shelf above the tub. She turned on the hot water until it steamed then added cold to get it to the right temperature. After that, she added bath salts scented with essential oils.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Gabe was still standing in the bedroom, shirt half off but jeans on. He seemed to be staring at her in fascination. “Are you coming?”

* * * * *

Gabe started. He’d been so concentrated on Shylah’s graceful movements and the flickering light and peaceful scents coming from the bathroom that he’d zoned a bit. She still hadn’t explained how she’d known to get his car off the train tracks. He also didn’t know what she and Alain had been up to while he was out investigating. Mostly he didn’t know how he was alive after being so stupid. Wann hadn’t even found Gabe’s gun that had been tucked in the back of his jeans. No need to disarm someone when you can just knock them out.

“Oh…yeah.” He entered the small room, closing the door behind him. He watched as Shylah slid her shirt up her body, revealing inch by inch of creamy, glowing skin and curved, sumptuous breasts. Her jeans followed, exposing a flat stomach and womanly hips.

“Hey, join in here.” He could hear the smirk in her voice.

Without letting his gaze leave her body, he unzipped his jeans. The gun made a soft thunk as it hit the floor. He quickly stripped off his briefs, which was when Shylah let her robe drop completely, the white fabric pooling around her feet on the floor. Gabe’s eyes fixed on the juncture of her legs, the place where he wanted to be in so many different ways.

But then she moved, breaking his stare as she stepped into the steamy bath with a relaxed sigh. “Why don’t you slide in behind me?”

He did, enjoying the scent rising from the water, the heat on his legs and on his hard cock. Shylah wiggled so that he could maneuver his legs around her, then she slid back to lean against him.

“Ah.” The feel of the swirling water and her warm skin on his cock brought it to attention and brought him into the moment. She squeezed some shower gel onto a natural sponge and handed it to him.

“You may do my back.”

“May I?”

“I command it.”

“Yes, mistress.” He dampened the sponge so that it would lather, then slowly worked from her shoulders along her spine and across every inch of her back. “So tell me what you and your ex were up to tonight.”

“We decided to do a ritual.”

“What?” Gabe immediately thought of the rituals in her Book of Shadows and jealousy turned his vision green.

“Don’t worry. No nudity. No sex. Just candles and such.”

Gabe felt marginally calmer.

“We wanted to do something to help you with your investigation.”

“Are you sure Alain wanted to help? Maybe he’s the reason I wound up on the tracks.” He distracted himself from thoughts of bashing the man’s face in by slowly gliding the sponge across Shylah’s breasts until her nipples hardened.

“Think of it like prayer. When someone tells you they’re praying for you, do you expect immediate, traceable results?”

“No, but isn’t magic supposed to be different?”

“It’s not a magician’s trick. It’s our way of working with the energies of the universe to bring about the changes we want.”

“Then Alain must’ve wanted me run over by a train.” He chuckled then slid the sponge lower, down her stomach, down between her legs. He spent a bit of time getting her thighs very clean. Her nipples were quite taut and bright pink and her breathing had definitely changed. “But how did you know?” he asked again, before he lost all focus.

“I had a vision.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, during the ritual. I saw you get hit. That’s when we got in the car and drove, but then we got to the house and your car wasn’t there. We called the police and searched around, but didn’t know where you were, but then I sensed you again. I heard what you heard, which was the bells on the gates and the train whistle.”

“Have you had visions like that before?”

“Nothing so clear. I expect a sort of divine guidance, an intuition, but this was a crystal-clear vision. Special.” Her voice sounded excited, awed.

“Well, I’m glad it worked this way this time.” Damn glad.

“Oh, and I tried something else during the spell, but I’m not sure it worked. You’ll think it’s corny.”

“Tell me.”

“I made sort of a truth serum for Alain, since you said you suspected him of Wanda Nance’s murder.”

“Truth serum? Another of your horrible teas?”

“No. This was made of essential oils that I rubbed on a candle we burned during our spell. I didn’t tell him about that part. But he hasn’t confessed to murdering Wanda Nance, so maybe he’s innocent.”

He’s not innocent
, Gabe thought, but kept that to himself. “But he did confess about visiting your store.”

“When you called him on it.” Shylah thought about it. “I probably should’ve been more specific when I charged the oil, but I was in a rush.”

“Who knows? Maybe he’ll confess in the morning. It would be handy since it would be hard to find any evidence after all this time.” He looked around for shampoo. Finding some, he poured a dab in his palm then started massaging it into Shylah’s hair and scalp.

“Nice,” she murmured.

“You know, I would like to watch one of your rituals. I want to understand it better.”

“I’d love to show you. Will you keep an open mind?”

“Since one of your rituals seems to have saved my life tonight, I’ll keep a very open mind.” He slid his palms down Shylah’s neck, across her collarbone, down along her hips and across her soapy thighs, gradually inching closer to her wet curls. She’d pulled her long hair over the front of her shoulder, so her neck was bare enough for Gabe to kiss it. She inhaled quickly. He kissed it again, blew on the back of her ear and nibbled her lobe. His fingers combed through her nether curls until he found her slit. He pushed his index finger down to her clit and moved it around.

He noticed a wire rack hanging on the outside of the tub. Besides shampoos and razors, it held something phallic. He picked it up. It seemed to be glass. “What’s this?”

Shylah’s skin flushed pink. “Um, well…”

“Ah, that’s what I thought it might be. Spread your legs.”

“No, really…”

“Do as I say.” She spread them an inch. “Wider. There you go.” His dick was painfully hard against her curvy ass and he wanted to fuck her himself, but the toy was too tempting to resist. “Lean back more. Lift your hips a little.” He held the dildo at the juncture of her thighs. “This little toy is going to fuck you, are you ready?”

Shylah’s voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Gabe pushed the dildo slowly into Shylah’s opening. She couldn’t believe she was letting him do this to her. The glass dildo was ridged along its length and rather wide, so that it stretched her as it went in. Gabe’s dick pressed into her back. He could be fucking her right now, but instead he’d decided to play. He alternated between licking and kissing her neck and her ear and the back of her shoulders, as he slid the toy deeper and deeper. She would normally have started moving it in and out by now, but he pressed it in farther.

“How does it feel?”

“Hot.”

“Do you want more of it?”

“Yes. Gabe?”

“Yes?”

“May I touch myself?”

“Where do you want to touch?”

“My clit.”

“Oh no, not yet. We’re taking our time. Where else do you want to touch?” He started moving the dildo out and back in and out.

Shylah moaned. “My breasts. My nipples. Please.”

“No, not allowed. I want you to concentrate on this dildo fucking you. How does it make you feel?”

“Hot. Achy. Good.”

In. “Do you feel stretched?”

“Yes.” Out.

In. “Filled.”

“God yes.” Out.

“Shylah, do you know what this is doing to me?”

She chuckled. “You’re dying.”

“Oh yeah.” He bit her neck and moaned.

“You can fill me with your cock any time you want.”

“I know.” He bit her again, just hard enough to leave teeth marks for a few seconds. “I want to try something. Game?”

More than what he was doing to her? Shylah was dying as it was, but she was also feeling so much pleasure that she’d do anything he wanted. “Yes.”

He directed her to hold the dildo in place, then he gripped her hips and lifted her, the water helping with buoyancy. She felt his dick slide down her back and her ass, until the tip pressed against the hole. He started to lower her down, so that his cock could enter her ass. “Have you been fucked back here before?” he asked.

She caught her breath, forced herself to breathe, then caught it again, as her rear entrance stretched far more than she was used to. “Once,” she said. The tub water sloshed around lubricating the works. Gravity and Gabe’s grip guided her farther down his cock.

He moaned. “You’re so tight, so tight. Are you okay?”

It did hurt, but at the same time, it felt good. More than that, it felt taboo and erotic. “I’m good. Show me how you want me to move.”

“Do you still have the glass cock inside you?”

“Yes.”

“Move it so it feels good.”

Shylah thrust the play cock in and out slowly, alternating it with Gabe’s slow thrusts into her ass. She listened for Gabe’s breaths and moans to judge how well he liked what was going on. His cock felt huge inside her, though he hadn’t thrust all the way in. The water lapped against the sides of the tub in time to their movements. Their positions, with Gabe underneath and back a little bit, were awkward, but none of that mattered because every damn second felt so good.

Without warning, Gabe cried out, jerking in orgasm. And that was all it took to send Shylah over the edge of ecstasy with him. Water splashed everywhere.

They were laughing by the time they extricated themselves from the tub and cleaned up all the water. Shylah washed off the dildo and put it back where it had been. “I’ll have to think of other toys to keep here as well.”

“Only waterproof toys, unless you want to get electrocuted.”

She giggled. “Oh my Goddess, what a crazy night!”

Once they’d finally climbed in bed, Shylah fell asleep, comfortable in Gabe’s arms, sated from sex and worn out from the night’s events. She wondered about her compelling spell and whether Alain had more to confess than his early arrival in Virginia. Maybe Gabe was wrong, or maybe she needed a lock of Alain’s hair or something stronger to make the spell work. But she didn’t want to force him to say something untrue. The spell was meant to bring the true feelings of his conscience bubbling to the surface. For this reason, it wouldn’t work on a true sociopath, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe Alain was one, even if he had killed.