Spell of Summoning (24 page)

“Hello, Happy Trails Child Care. How can I help you?”

“Dani Ferraro, please.”

There was a long pause. “Is this the parent of a child in her class?”

“No. Uh. I’m a friend. I can’t reach her on her cell phone.”

Another long pause, and then the woman dropped her voice to a whisper. “Dani’s missing.”

His stomach plummeted. “What?”

“No one’s seen her since Thursday night. We reported her missing to the police. Have you heard from her? Seen her?”

“No.” He thought back, but his mind was suddenly fuzzy.
Missing
? “I talked to her Thursday.”

“It’s so freaking sad.” She sniffed. “Miss Georgie is taking all Miss Dani’s calls today. Can I transfer you?”

“No thanks.” He hung up.

Rebecca walked into the room, and when she saw his face, her smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

“Dani’s missing.” Holden powered on his laptop and searched for Daniela Ferraro. Up popped a missing poster with her photo and physical description on it. It was the most depressing thing he’d seen in a long time.

“No!” Rebecca plopped onto the bed. “Oh my God. How?”

“I don’t know.” He clicked to a different site. Dani had last been seen leaving work in Springfield, North Carolina on Thursday night. She never made it home, but disappeared somewhere between Happy Trails Child Care Center and her apartment on Williams Street. The police were investigating every lead. There was an 800 number.

“Is it because of me?” Becca asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You mean it might be?” Her voice cracked.

“
I don’t know
.”

* * *

The whole day had been quiet and tense and spent alternating laptops, search engines, and cell phones. Becca tracked down Carlton Reeves and discovered he’d passed away four months ago.

No news about Dani. No news about the necromancer or his summoning spell. Another day gone and they were no closer to stopping the possession before it hit. Their only, and final, plan was casino night.

Rebecca checked the time on her phone. Saturday. 8:05 p.m.

The Auburn Chamber of Commerce fundraiser would be starting about now, but it would be okay if they arrived a little late.

“Will there really be three hundred people there tonight?” Holden’s voice carried from the main living space into the bathroom where Rebecca was finishing her hair.

Chamber of Commerce events were always crowded, loud, and a great chance to network. But the crush of people and the hundreds of business cards exchanging sweaty hands probably wasn’t Holden’s fantasy.

She poked her head out, warm, perfume-laced air curling around her body. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you.” She returned to the mirror, her flat iron, and a can of hair spray.

“Good.” Nodding, he unzipped his rented tux from its plastic garment bag.

When she reappeared, Holden was dressed in black slacks. And nothing else.

He looked good anytime, but he looked really good in that suit with his hair still damp and tousled and his face cleanly shaven.

She’d had relationships before, even one or two fairly serious, but she’d never lived with a man. She’d never gotten ready for an event with a man. There was something so pleasantly intimate about sharing the same space with him.

She stood in the doorway listening to the quiet sounds of him pulling on a freshly laundered undershirt. A crisp white button-down slid over his bare arms. Dazed, she watched him tying his shoes and was turned on. By
tying shoes
.

Rebecca stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed, except for her heels, in her fabulous, form-fitting red cocktail dress. Holden paused in pulling on his heavy tuxedo jacket and stared. She was used to men sizing her up. But for some reason when this man examined her—
like that
—she flushed pink under her face powder and spun away.

“Quit staring at me like that. You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m making
you
nervous?” He guffawed. “Geez, darling. I’m light-headed.”

She blushed even deeper, her whole body overheating. If he didn’t quit, she’d have to redo her makeup.

He cleared his throat and pivoted to fix his bow tie in front of the mirror, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “Tell me again who will be there.”

Game time. Focus. And not on the tall, sexy man flashing flirty eyes at her in the mirror. “Everyone I do business with. No biggie.”

“Will Derek be there?”

“Is he a suspect?”

“Hell yes he is. You’re basically firing him at the end of the month and leaving him high and dry.”

She shook her head. “He has a new job lined up.”

“He must hate your guts.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. She knew Derek very well. He was no magical mastermind. If he was, wouldn’t he have used some to pass the real estate licensing exam? “All my former employees will probably be there. A lot of people I work with. Tailors, hair stylists, flooring installers, restaurant owners—”

“Okay, okay. Our plan is you shake hands with absolutely everyone.”

“I’m on it.”

“Ready?” Holden gave her another heated once-over and then offered his elbow like a true southern gentleman. Rebecca stepped into her heels and took his arm so he could lead her downstairs into the parking garage. She rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his earthy scent. When it was time to get into the Jeep, she didn’t want to let go, and she lingered on his arm.

He tilted up her chin with one crooked finger and kissed her gently, and the warmth of his mouth distracted her from the zillion nervous thoughts bubbling up.

“You can do this,” Holden whispered.

If she could face her mother, she could do anything.

They climbed into the Jeep and headed south. Holden parked beneath the Westin Hotel in a crowded subterranean garage. Hopping out, he rounded the hood to assist her down and then caught sight of her spiky stilettos.

“I hope you can hike in those.”

He held out a hand, and a tickling warmth temporarily overrode her anxiety. Rebecca hardly put weight on her toes before he swept her into his arms.

“Oh,” she gasped. “You don’t have to. I can walk.”

“You’re going to be on your feet all night.” He carried her toward the bank of elevators. “I don’t want you wearing out before we find this creep.”

* * *

The ballroom of the Westin Hotel was cavernous, and yet so many people were packed in that Holden felt crushed the moment he entered the room. Business cards flew from palm to palm, men shook beefy hands, and women cackled over tall champagne flutes. The reigning Miss City of Auburn and her royal court preened in ball gowns as they sold raffle tickets by the indoor waterfall.

Holden may as well be living inside a nightmare.

Standing beside Rebecca would have helped quell the panic, but it was his bright idea to separate and cover more ground. She would wade through the business owners, shaking hands, and he would circle the room looking for spell marks.

“Ned,” he hissed. The man flickered beside him. “Do you see anything?”

Because Holden didn’t see crap. The only spell marks in the room, as far as he could see, were on Rebecca.

“Nothing yet. I’ll fan out. Be right back.”

Alone again. Stuck in a noisy crowd but alone. Isolation felt different tonight, though. Grams’s absence stung, but it hadn’t destroyed him. If anything, clarity had hit him upside the head.

His remodeling work made him happy. His diner had the possibility of making him happy. Once Holden accepted the fact that he would never be his grandpa, he would run the hell out of that restaurant.

And Rebecca Powell made him happy.

“I don’t see a thing,” Ned said, popping back into his periphery. “You?”

“No.” Frustration wasn’t a big enough word for this situation. He had to find this son of a bitch. Now. Because he didn’t know where to go tomorrow if this party didn’t produce a big fricking lead.

Holden caught sight of a little girl with black pigtails half a dozen feet away near the cash bar. It was the same little girl he’d seen at Happy Trails. He elbowed nearer, but by the time he got to the bar, she’d disappeared.

* * *

The Prince had to admit he looked damn fine in his rented Ralph Lauren tuxedo. And people noticed. He enjoyed their attention, relaxing several notches after the crazy stress of the last few months. His possession spell was 90 percent finished, and soon he’d have more power than the people crammed into this room could imagine.

He sipped his rum and Coke and steered across the crowded ballroom toward Miss High and Mighty herself, Rebecca Powell. She looked awful: pale and a little gray around the eyes. And the demon tapping on her shoulder was so crystal clear that he could see its red eyes and white fangs.

God, he’d done an amazing job. With almost no experience and only one or two helpful spirits backing him up, he’d really done it. By this time tomorrow night he’d have a demon on a leash.

* * *

Derek handed Becca a champagne flute, his fingers brushing hers and startling her out of an anxious daydream. She smiled warmly as she accepted the bubbly drink.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said from behind his glass. “The mayor was asking about you.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” In ten years Rebecca had never missed a chance to network, make contacts, and meet important people. Though she hadn’t sponsored a table this year, she could still connect with her friends and clients.

“You haven’t been yourself this week.”

That was very true. Rebecca wasn’t herself. She felt fundamentally changed. And it wasn’t just the demon possession spell. Everything felt different.

Someone touched her bare back with a hand. “Becky Powell?”

She turned to find Charley McGovern standing behind her.

“Don’t you look cute,” Charley jeered. “Your face healed nicely.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I owe you one.”

“I just wanted to remind
you
,” she hissed, bending close, “the Ray House on River Road is mine. The owners gave me a verbal contract.” She flashed her thousand-watt smile, the one on all her billboards. “So no more mailers. I’m sure you understand.”

Charley wanted Becca to stop advertising to the owners just in case they liked Becca more than this barracuda in Prada heels. They both knew a verbal contract meant nothing.

Especially when it came to the Holy Grail—the highest priced home in the area—a to-die-for six--bedroom, three story Colonial on the banks of Wilson Bay. The Ray House had been remodeled with every conceivable upgrade. It was a real estate agent’s wet dream. To represent the Ray House, Becca would commute two hours from Raleigh to Auburn.

“Bless your heart,” Rebecca sneered. “Don’t you know I always play fair?”

Charley didn’t need to know Becca’s priorities were evolving or that she didn’t care about scrabbling for contracts anymore or arguing over who advertised to which neighborhoods. It was too much fun messing with the woman.

“And so do I.” Charley flitted away, waving to someone across the room.

Becca wobbled on her heels, and her handbag slipped. Derek was there like a good number two and pressed it under Becca’s arm. “She’s such a shark,” he said, nodding at the woman’s back. “God, I hate her.”

“She wants us to back off the Ray House.”

He snorted. “I can’t believe you’re making me work with her.”

“I can’t stay in Auburn forever. I have to think—”

“Rebecca, I know. I’m teasing.” With a playful gleam in his eye, he took a sip of champagne. “What do I care that I gave you five years of my life, and now I get to be that bitch’s coffee gofer?”

“Derek.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he said, “I’ll go to the bar and schmooze the deputy mayor.” He winked. “You know how fond she is of us professional boys.” He sauntered away, disappearing in the crowd, one dark suit in a sea of them.

“Hey, baby girl!” Kristin clapped Rebecca in a quick, tight embrace. “You made it!”

“Yes, of course.”

“Honey, you have something on your—” Kristin pointed at Becca’s throat. “Oh God. Are those bite marks?”

“What? Where?” Becca contorted herself to find suspiciously shaped hickies on her shoulder blade. She flushed, momentarily transported back to the moment she’d gotten them two nights ago. Her body warmed, turning liquid at the memory of Holden’s pleasantly heavy weight upon her back. His mouth, slick and firm, grazed her shoulder blades, and then his teeth sank into her flesh. Not enough to break the skin, but hard enough to make her thrash…

Kristin laughed loudly. “
Woof, woof
. I thought I was the only person who liked to bite in bed. Good for you.” She playfully shoved Becca. “Anyway, I’m glad I caught you. We’re on our way home. I get tired a lot easier nowadays.” Kristin rubbed her big round belly as her husband, Tommy, closed the gap between them and wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist.

The couple positively oozed love and hope for the future. Jealousy pinged through Becca’s chest. She wanted to share her life with someone, love someone completely, and build a home.

No, not with just anyone. With Holden.

She craned her neck looking for him, but there were too many people to make him out.

“I’m sorry,” she said to her friend.

“You need to find Holden?” Kristin smiled a knowing smile. “You’ve got it bad, honey. Yes, go. Find him.”

Rebecca slipped her way toward the bar, and then Holden appeared at her side as if her thoughts had conjured him.

“Everything okay?”

She glanced up into his worried blue eyes. This honesty thing was getting easier. “No. I’m a nervous wreck, and Derek is acting strangely,” she admitted, “but I’ll make it.”

That got his attention. “What do you mean
strangely
?”

“Like mad.”

“Where is he?”

She gestured in the direction Derek had gone. “But—”

“I’ll try to find him. Stay put, though, because here comes the mayor.” Holden faded into the crowd as Mayor Paul Westfield headed straight for her.

“Ms. Powell,” he greeted, giving her hand a solid shake. “How are you, dear?”