Smoke on the Water (14 page)

Now that I thought about it, that dude knew where I was. He could easily have told anyone who asked. Why the torture of the Gilletts? Why the anonymous calling of social services?

The door to my room opened and Mary came in. “You okay?”

I nodded. I didn't want to explain, wasn't sure I could, or should. It probably wasn't a good idea to tell Mary any of this, considering she'd been jabbering about the burning, the branding, and the
Venatores Mali
for a while now. She appeared saner by the minute, and what did that make me?

She held the
Book of Shadows
in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. She joined me at the desk, where I sat, hitching a hip onto the edge. “You're upset. Here.”

She set the mug in front of me. I glanced into it and—

“Goddammit, Mary…”

There wasn't coffee in the cup but water. It rippled, reflecting the white surface of the cup for an instant before it reflected something else. I reached for Mary, and she took my hand as I fell.

A house in the woods. Two stories. Big place.

A pickup parked on the side of the dwelling. A nondescript four-door car sat in front—navy blue, forest green, black? It was hard to tell in the deep woods darkness.

One window lit up. The shadow of a woman appeared. I couldn't see her face but she seemed familiar. How could that be? I'd never been here.

Next thing I knew I was inside. Bottom of the steps, peering up. I sensed more than one person in the house. I sensed a lot of people, some more there than others. I had no idea what that meant.

I climbed the stairs, headed for the only room where light spilled into the hall. I stopped in the doorway and watched a woman stab a pillow and a mattress to death. What had they ever done to her?

The woman spun. She was the same woman who'd been in my other vision in the forest, when the big ugly guy had killed someone. She walked past me, and pounded down the stairs toward the open door.

“Who the hell are you?”

A man stood in the entryway to the kitchen on the first floor. Never saw him before either. Short, with a solid build, maybe fifty, give or take—silvery-blond hair, pale complexion, and light blue eyes.

The big woman with the knife was already out the door. An instant later gravel spewed as she took one of the vehicles and made tracks.

“Bitch-whore!”

I blinked and the house, the trees, the man, the mattress and pillow that were never going to be used again were all gone and Mary was back.

I closed my eyes and drank the water in the cup, then set it down. “You need to stop doing that.”

“How else are we going to find out anything?”

“What did we find out? Do you know that guy? The house? Recognize anything?” She opened her mouth, and I lifted my hand. “Besides the bitch-whore?”

“Yeah. Her knife.”

There had been something strange about it.

“The blade,” I said. “Like a
z
and double-edged.”

She'd had it in the clearing, as well, but I'd been too distracted to notice much more than the meat cleaver and the murder. I was funny that way.

“Did you see the hilt?”

I thought back. The hilt had been carved into the likeness of a snarling wolf. “What does that mean?”

We already knew the long-haired woman was a
Venatores Mali,
that they were a witch-hunting society, and they used the snarling wolf as their symbol. But usually on a ring.

“I saw a knife like that in this book.” Mary started to page through.

“With the wolf?”

“No.” She turned the book so I could see. “The blade.”

The page she'd opened to had drawings of four magical items. A pentagram, a chalice, a wand, and—

“‘Athame,'” I read. “‘Used by a fire witch to cut herbs and draw the sacred circle.' But this one isn't curved.”

“No,” Mary agreed. “But that doesn't mean it couldn't be.”

Mary riffled through more pages, then indicated a five-pointed star drawn on one. “Four elements.” She tapped each point and read what was written within the triangle. “Fire, air, water, earth.” Then the final one, which pointed up. “Spirit.”

She turned the book to face her so she could read what was written beneath it. “The pentagram with the point ascendant indicates the spirit is more important than earthly concerns.”

“What if the point is down?”

She shrugged. “Maybe that's for the other guys.”

“What's a fire witch?”

“There's a type of witch for every element, and they each have their magical instrument. Wand for an air witch. Pentacle for an earth witch. Your instrument would be a chalice, because you're a water witch.”

“Sure I am.”

Mary's eyes narrowed at my disbelief. She handed the book to me. “Read.”

“‘Sometimes called a sea witch, a water witch aligns with all types of water. Water reflects. A water witch can see things others cannot. She is adept at divination. She can foretell the future.'”

“See?” Mary said.

From her tone, I half expected her to stick out her tongue.

“I don't—”

Mary snatched the book from my hands. “Elemental witches are born. They have real magic. Like you.”

“I'm not magic.”

“You transported me. Of course you are.”

“You think that was me?”

“I know it was you.” She set her hand on mine. “Tomorrow night's the full moon again. We'll do the spell. Then you'll believe.”

“That's probably not the best idea in the world.”

“I need to stop those bastards from killing people,” Mary said. “Die, witch hunters!” She pumped her fist into the air for emphasis.

“If I do the spell tomorrow night and nothing happens, can we stop?”

She lowered her fist. “People are dying, Willow. Witches are dying. How can you stop?”

She was right. I might want to stop, but I couldn't. Not if I could help. And if the only help I had was sending Mary out there like an insane version of
The Avengers
 …

So be it.

 

Chapter 10

“Do you think we should meet again at midnight?” Mary whispered at supper the next day.

My gaze lifted to the guard on duty. Tom, the original, slightly less gung-ho than Deux but not by much, had his gaze on us—or maybe just on Mary. Since she'd disappeared the last time, there seemed to be eyes on her 24/7.

“Have you noticed you're a guard favorite these days?”

Mary turned her head and stuck out her tongue. She began to lift her middle finger too, but I grabbed her hand, held it between my own. “That won't help.”

“Helps me.”

“Let's watch TV. They'll get bored watching us watch the screen. Eventually.”

If they didn't I wasn't sure what I'd do. Or what Mary would do. I could easily see her banging a guard's head against a wall to make him stop staring at her. I'd like to avoid that.

After supper we returned to the common room, took some chairs near the back. I wasn't certain if we had to have the moon shining on us, or if the moon just had to be shining. Or if this would even work. I guess we'd find out.

“We need the bell and the candle.” Mary stood.

“No.” I pulled her back down. “We might be able to ring a bell, but we certainly aren't going to be allowed to light a candle.”

“But—”

“We didn't use them in the library, remember?”

Her eyes widened. “When we used them, nothing happened.” Mary patted my hand, beaming at me as if I were a prize pupil. Why that made me feel like one, I wasn't sure.

An obnoxious reality show blared on the television. From what I could gather they'd locked a bunch of people in a house. They seemed sane when they went in, except that no one in their right mind should agree to such a thing. Which kind of explained what was going on in the show now.

“Ready?” Mary asked halfway through the televised fiasco.

The room was full of patients staring zombielike at the screen. The guard's attention had wandered. He stood outside the room, talking to the night nurse. They were flirting. It was kind of cute—even more so because they weren't watching us.

“You remember the spell?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. I wasn't sure if that meant she remembered it or she didn't. In the end, it didn't matter.

She held out her hand. I held out mine. The instant I touched her, Mary vanished.

*   *   *

Sebastian got the call just as he reached his apartment. He pointed the Harley back the way he'd come.

Mary was gone. No one had seen how. At least the staff had already called the local police. His review of emergency procedures must have helped. By the time he got back, a county cruiser sat in front, its flashing lights pulsing against the night.

Sebastian reached the door just as the sheriff came out. He introduced himself, shook hands.

“We'll find her, Doctor. She can't have gotten very far.”

Sebastian resisted the urge to snort and hurried inside.

Tonight's second-shift guard—the first Tom—waited. “They were watching TV.”

“Who's they?”

Tom spread his hands. “The patients.”

“All of them?”

“Most. Mary and Willow for sure. I've been keeping a special eye on Mary, like you said.”

“Not special enough,” Sebastian muttered, and Tom winced.

“I was at the door. No one went in or out.”

Sebastian rubbed his forehead. “Where's Willow?”

“Here.”

Her voice trilled along his skin like a feather. He dropped his hand. Had she been standing there in the shadows all along? Must have been, it wasn't like she'd warped in the way Mary had warped out.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

She sounded like she was telling the truth, but what did he know? Not much. Not enough to keep his job if he continued losing patients.

Make that patient. Same woman, different day. Would that matter? Probably not.

“You were sitting right next to her.” Tom loomed over Willow, making her seem smaller, frailer, paler than ever before. He grabbed her arm, shook her a bit. “You had to have seen something.”

Sebastian didn't even realize he'd moved until Tom's back hit the wall and his head bounced off it with a sickening thunk. That's what happened when a bigger man put his hand around a smaller man's throat and shoved.

“Don't touch her,” he said, in a voice that didn't sound like his own.

“I'm all right.” Willow tugged on Sebastian's arm.

He released the guard. “Never touch her again.”

Tom nodded, rubbing his throat.

“Or any of the others,” Sebastian thought to add, though from Tom's expression he wasn't buying it. “Go.”

Tom went.

Sebastian took a deep breath—in, out, in again—waiting for the pounding in his ears to recede along with the orange haze behind his eyes. He didn't have much luck until Willow took his hand. Everything calmed. He wanted to hold her hand forever, but he couldn't. He shouldn't have held it this long.

“Come along.” Not waiting to see if she followed, Sebastian released her and headed to the courtyard door, unlocked it and stepped through, closing it behind them both. “What happened?”

She lifted her face to the moon—full and silver, it shone on her for just an instant before shadows danced between that moon and the earth. He lifted his face too.

Odd. There hadn't been a cloud in the sky and now the sky was full of them.

“We were watching TV,” Willow said.

Sebastian lowered his gaze to hers. “And then?”

She stared at her feet. “Someone screamed that she was gone. That she'd been there and then she'd disappeared.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don't know.”

“Look at me.”

She continued to stare at the grass. He stepped closer—too close. Inappropriately close. Thunder rolled on the horizon.

“Please,” he murmured.

When she did, he fell into her eyes as if he'd fallen into the ocean from a rocky cliff. The world shimmied like déjà vu, which was crazy. He'd never stood with her in the night, beneath the moon, with a storm blowing in, electricity humming along his skin, making the hair on his arms buzz. He'd never stood like this with anyone.

They were as close as they could get without touching. Every breath she took, her breasts rose closer to his chest. He couldn't seem to move, to speak, to think. He could do nothing but listen to the cadence of her breath, inhale the scent of her skin, tingle at the memory of a touch that had never happened.

The wind picked up and whipped her hair across his face. She shuddered, and the movement caused her breasts to brush against him at last. He was going to kiss her. He shouldn't. He couldn't. Nevertheless—

“Tree,” she said, and shoved him in the chest.

He was big; she was not. He only took a single step back, surprised more than anything else. Then she launched herself into his arms; his feet tangled. Together they fell.

An instant before a giant limb from the largest tree in the courtyard cracked and slammed into the ground exactly where they'd been.

*   *   *

I'd had a lot of visions in my life. Most of them I remembered, some of them I didn't until right before they happened.

Like tonight.

I knew this wasn't our first kiss. Wrong place. Wrong time. However, the instant my breasts had brushed his chest and the entire world stilled, I'd seen again what I'd seen once before.

The tree was going to break. It was going to break us unless we moved.

We fell hard. My chin hit his chest. I bit my tongue. Blood filled my mouth. He grunted when my knee connected where it shouldn't. Then we both lay there kind of stunned.