Spell of Summoning (18 page)

“Good.” Rebecca gestured to the desk, now neat as a pin. Everything had been cleaned, organized, and put in its place.

Holden crossed the threshold and grasped her hand, his fingers slipping between her much smaller ones. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for making me love my job again.”

“I didn’t do anything.” She flushed even as her fingers tightened around his. “You stepped up.”

“No, it was you.”

She tilted her chin and smiled softly at him, and all sorts of naughty thoughts fuzzed up his brain.

She said, “We did it together.”

He lowered his voice, “I like when we work together.”

“Holden.” She gave his chest a halfhearted shove. “I want to have a serious conversation for a second.”

“I am very—” He wet his lips, recalling her sweet taste. “—serious.”

Rebecca pushed a little harder on his chest, giggling. “That was Damian Arasmus’s nurse on the phone. He’s asking for us.”

All his naughty thoughts burst like soap bubbles. Damian fucking Arasmus had made contact with Rebecca’s demon and nearly summoned him into their world. He had some serious questions to answer.

“Fine.” He released Becca’s hand. “Let’s go.”

“And I think Buster would be more comfortable with my dad,” she blurted out.

Holden opened his mouth to argue. Buster didn’t like being alone, never had. Not since Grandpa had passed away. Holden spent nearly every waking moment in the dog’s vicinity. Packing him off to a sitter felt wrong.

Quickly she added, “Just while we’re in hotels. Think about it. He can run around and play. Plus my dad could use the company.”

Holden shut his mouth, frowned, and then nodded. “Is the yard fenced? Because he might try to escape.” He had no idea what Buster would do if left alone. He’d gotten shut in a bedroom once by accident and chewed a hole through the wall to escape.

“Yes. Definitely. I’ll call him right now. Oh, is your manager working today?”

“Right here, ma’am.”

Crap. Doreen had been standing there the whole time?

Rebecca’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “Oh, good. Wonderful.”

Rebecca collected her things. “Because Hol— Mr. Clark and I have an important errand to run.” Grabbing his sleeve, she pulled him out the door.

* * *

After settling Buster at her father’s house, Becca strolled through the emergency entrance of the Onslow County Memorial Hospital, assaulted by the stink of antiseptic as well as human body odors. Holden followed a step behind.

They didn’t bother with the check-in desk but marched straight for Damian’s room. The closer they got, though, the angrier Holden’s expression became. He needed to cool off, or he may kill Damian with his bare hands. But Damian wasn’t the necromancer. He may be dangerous because of his ignorance, but she’d touched him and had no reaction whatsoever.

At the door to Damian’s hospital room, Becca hesitated, blocking the way.

“Would you do me a huge favor?” She dug a single bill out of her purse. “I really need a drink.” She pushed the cash into Holden’s hand. “Coffee. Soda. Whatever you can find.”

He growled, crumpling the dollar bill.

“Get some air,” she said. “You can’t go in there ready to attack.”

Holden took the hint, thank goodness, and she ducked into the room alone.

Damian sat up in his bed, and despite heavy gauze bandages over both ears, a huge grin split his face.

“Hello,” he greeted a bit too loudly. “Thanks for coming!”

Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but he handed her a notepad and pen.

“Profound and permanent hearing damage,” he shouted at her, touching both ears.

She’d done that. She’d hurt him. Well, her demon had, but what was the difference, really? Because of her, Damian Arasmus would never hear again.

She wrote, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.” She faced it toward him to read.

He rearranged his blue hospital gown, sitting up even straighter. “No, don’t be. My whole life I wanted to believe in the supernatural.” He chuckled. “Now I’ve seen it for myself. I believe.” He grasped her hand and squeezed. “I
believe
.”

No point asking about pressing charges. Damian was too giddy to worry about vengeance. Whatever happened last night in her bedroom had reinforced all his theories about the paranormal.

She wrote, “I hope you feel better soon. I’ll be in touch.” She added her card to the pad and pen, leaving them on his bedside table.

He wasn’t the necromancer. Time to narrow the field and finally pay a visit to Charley McGovern.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t clear your apartment,” Damian said.

“Don’t be. I’ll be fine.”

She extended her right hand to shake good-bye when Holden slammed through the heavy door, apparently out of patience. He definitely wasn’t here to check on Damian’s health. He was furious.

“Did you cast the spell on her?” Holden grabbed Damian by the shoulders and shook him. “Are you the necromancer trying to hurt her?”

“Holden! He can’t hear you.” She tried to shove him off Damian, but she couldn’t budge him. It was like trying to move a concrete pylon.

“What did you do?” he growled.

Damian shrank into the bed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t cleanse those two victims,” he squeaked. “I tried! They were too powerful for me.”

“Two victims?” Holden loosened his hold but didn’t let Damian go completely.

Rebecca scribbled at super speed, so fast it was nearly illegible. “How did you affect the summoning spell?”

“What summoning spell?” Damian asked. “I tried to clear a spirit.”

“Bullshit,” Holden shouted. “You’re part of the Dark Caster’s cabal, and you were trying to summon her demon. Or did you want to strengthen it?”

“Wait, what dark caster cabal?” Was he keeping things from her? “Holden?”

He huffed impatiently. “Cole found a group of casters who do spells like the one on you. But we don’t know who’s in it or who runs it.”

A whole group of people determined to destroy her? She blinked away a wave of nausea.

“Rebecca,” Holden said, snapping her into the present. “Ask him.”

She copied his words and showed them to Damian.

“What’s a dark caster? I’m a spiritualist. I told you exactly…” He glanced from Holden’s unforgiving expression to Becca’s. “What is going on?”

She wrote fast. “Are you a necromancer? Do you know who’s summoning a demon into me?” If he answered “Charley McGovern” she’d flip out.

Damian opened his mouth as if he wasn’t sure what to say. “There’s no such things as demons. There are only people and spirits. I don’t know what weird stuff you’re into--”

“What did you carve into those candles?” Holden asked. Becca translated the question onto paper.

“The Chinese symbol for peace!”

“This is a waste of time.” Holden tore his hands away. “You touched him bare-handed, right?”

To prove it, she laid her palm on Damian’s exposed forearm. “It’s not him. He’s an amateur who got lucky. Isn’t that what you said the other day? He knows even less than you do about this stuff.”

“What in the world?!” A nurse in tropical-themed scrubs ran in. “Leave the poor man alone!” She turned on her heels and shouted into the wall phone, “I need security in room two.”

“Holden.” Rebecca ducked under his arm, putting herself right in his face. “Time to go.”

“He spoke to your demon. How did he do that unless he’s involved?”

“It’s not him.” She pushed him toward the door. “I think I know who it is. Let’s go talk about it. Fast. Before we get arrested.”

* * *

“Who is it?” Holden couldn’t calm down. He hadn’t been this angry in a really long time. Maybe never. But standing face-to-face with a man who might be hurting Rebecca had ratcheted his fear and rage past all control. He was lucky he hadn’t throttled Damian.

“Who?” he said again. He slowed his speed walk across the hospital parking lot and stood at the trunk of some strange car. “Who is it, Rebecca? Derek or Jessa?”

“What?” She stuttered to a stop beside him. “Neither!”

Fine, but they remained at the top of his list. “Who, then?”

“Neither of them are suspects. Seriously. Jessa is a friend. And Derek has been with me for years. We spend every day together. There’s no way either of them practices dark magic. No chance.”

“Then
who
?”

Her cell phone went off. “Charley McGovern. If I were a superhero, she’d be my arch nemesis.” Rebecca pressed the phone to her ear. “Now give me a minute.”

Give her a minute? Like he was an annoying solicitor? Like he hadn’t had an up-close-and-personal experience the night before with her demon? Holden paced, jittery and anxious.

“That was my sister, Nelly. She wants to meet halfway and have dinner tonight in Benson. She has big news apparently.”

“Okay.” He tried to catch up. What happened to finding Charley?

“Great. Because I told Nelly we would,” she said. “Wait. Is she a suspect?”

“Yes.”

Rebecca laughed sardonically.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’ll understand after you meet her. She’s more sorority girl than dark caster.” She turned toward the Jeep. “And if we hurry, we can surprise Charley at work.”

* * *

The Secret Cove Realty office was on Highway 24 in a strip mall painted a garish peachy orange with dark brown trim. Holden parked in front of a jewelry store, his heart wedged in his throat. He didn’t know what a cornered necromancer would do. Before he could warn Rebecca to use caution, she raced across the lot.

A tall, big-breasted woman in a tiny business suit exited the realty office, saw Rebecca, and then immediately beelined toward an expensive import not far from him.

“Charley.” Rebecca chased her. “I have a question.”

Ms. McGovern dug a giant mess of keys from her designer purse. “Sorry, Becky, darlin’,” she said, laying on her country charm, “but I am late for a meetin’.” She unlocked her BMW with a beep beep from her key fob.

“Wait, it’s important.”

All Rebecca had to do was get her hands on the woman. A handshake. A back pat. As a last resort, a hug. But Charley wasn’t making it easy. Holden’s suspicions deepened.

“Sorry. Like I said.” She scrambled into the car, slammed the door, and locked it.

Anger coursed through him. No, more than that. Rage. Someone was trying to destroy Rebecca. They didn’t have time for games. If Charley was the culprit, this had to end. Now.

He stepped out of the Jeep and called Grams.

“Bubba, there aren’t any spirits here. What are you doing?”

She was right. No signs of magic at all. But that didn’t mean Charley wasn’t dangerous. Holden didn’t advertise his power either.

“Charley!” Becca tapped on the woman’s driver side window. “Open up. I need to talk to you.”

But Charley pretended she couldn’t hear and shifted into reverse. Holden stepped directly behind the vehicle, blocking her.

“I’m calling the police if y’all don’t get away from my car,” she screamed, narrowly avoiding striking him.

Fury. Like a firestorm. Holden slammed his hand on the trunk.

With her cell phone in one hand, Charley rolled the vehicle toward him. Short of getting run down in the parking lot, there was nothing else he could do. That helpless feeling spread. Someone was hurting Becca, and he couldn’t stop them.

The car bumped Holden, forcing him to hop away or land on the rear windshield. He stepped aside and let her leave.

“We’ll follow her,” Becca said, jogging past him toward the Jeep. “She has to get out eventually.”

“And then what?” he asked, following more slowly. “Tackle her? Tie her up? Abduct her against her will?” He was in over his head. He turned to ask Grams for advice, but she had vanished.

“All I have to do is touch her.” Rebecca clapped her hands to hurry him up. “Let’s go!”

He climbed into his vehicle and squeezed the steering wheel until his fingers ached. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Holden mumbled, pulling into traffic.

If Charley McGovern, Realtor extraordinaire, really was a dark caster, they were in deep water. Cole should be here. Or Dani. Holden was useless. He didn’t even have a simple mending spell memorized.

Fear soured in his stomach.

What was he supposed to do if Charley turned and cast on Rebecca?

Charley sped out of Auburn on Highway 24 and into Richlands, his home turf. Holden stuck with her, though he wasn’t thrilled with this plan.

“You cannot attack her,” he told Rebecca at the next stoplight. Obviously she wasn’t thinking clearly. “Or threaten her. Or hurt her.” He glanced her way and caught a dramatic eye roll. “After the séance fiasco, we can’t afford another call to the police.” Surely the woman had seen them following her. She might have called the police already. “Are you hearing me, Rebecca?”

“All I have to do is touch her.”

No, she wasn’t listening. “All she has to do is cast a spell, and you’re toast.”

The light changed, and Holden accelerated. Charley turned left on the outskirts of town, toward fields of green corn stalks and the Albert Ellis Regional Airport.

So Charley was either on her way out of town or picking up a friend. The first didn’t make sense. If she was elbows deep in casting a demon into her business rival, why would she skip out of town? If she wasn’t picking up a friend, this suspect was falling apart.

Charley parked in the long-term lot, further confusing him. By the time Holden found a spot, she was pulling a rolling suitcase from her trunk and heading for the departures gate.

Before he had a chance to warn Becca one more time, she was off and chasing Charley across the street.

* * *

Becca ran full steam across the crosswalk, earning a honk from a nearby taxi. But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. She was too close to finding the caster responsible for all the pain she’d suffered the last three months.

“Charley,” she called. “Please wait.”

Charley spun in obvious shock, nearly tripping over her luggage. “Becky! What are you doing?”

She hated that name. Rebecca or Becca, but never Becky. Just one more reason Rebecca couldn’t stand the woman.

She catapulted herself onto her rival, throwing her arms around her waist. All she had to do was touch her. But Rebecca was a cover-all-your-bases kind of girl.