Spellcasters (42 page)

Anton forced Savannah’s hand to the boy’s left breast. Greta moved the blade to the boy’s throat.

“No!” Savannah said. “You can’t do this! You can’t! He didn’t—he didn’t do anything.”

“He’s a nobody, Savannah,” Olivia said from behind me. “A runaway. The only meaning his life has is in protecting yours.”

“Don’t bother, Mother,” Greta said. “It’s obvious Eve coddled the girl. What do you think dark magic is, Savannah?”

“It’s not this. I know it isn’t. My mother never did this.”

“Of course she did. She just never let you see it.”

Greta pressed the blade against the boy’s throat.

“No!” Savannah struggled harder, forcing Anton to put all of his weight into holding her down.

“He’s a pretty boy, isn’t he?” Greta said. She put her left hand behind the boy’s head and lifted it. “Would you like to give him a kiss, Savannah? A last kiss? No? All right then.”

She slashed the knife over the boy’s neck so fast that it seemed not to have left a mark. Then his throat split open. Anton shoved Savannah’s head forward. Blood jetted into her face and she started to scream.

I
won’t detail the next few minutes. I can’t. It broke my heart the first time, and even thinking about it is enough to bring me to tears. Savannah’s terror and rage were indescribable. All I could do was stand there and watch, trapped in a binding spell.

Twenty minutes later I was in the bedroom, tucking Savannah into bed. Ringed around us were Nast, Sandford, and Leah.

On hearing the screams, Leah had come running. In the chaos that ensued, no one had escaped Savannah’s blind fury. Leah had a bloodied nose and even I had a scratch across my upper arm. Eventually Shaw managed to sedate Savannah, and she’d collapsed where she stood. Then Sandford had carried her back to the house.

Once I’d finished getting Savannah into bed, Nast waved for everyone to leave the room. When I tried to stay, he motioned for Leah to remove me. I brushed her off and followed Nast and Sandford into the hall.

“I can’t believe they did that,” Nast said.

“They say you gave them carte blanche,” Sandford said.

“Not for this.”

“It’s a common spell, Kris. Not too common, given the risk that comes with kidnapping and killing humans, but it’s common enough.”

“But to take her, unprepared, without a word of warning, of explanation …”

“I did warn you, Kris,” Sandford said, lowering his voice so Leah couldn’t hear. “They expected Greta’s daughter to succeed her.”

“You think they did this intentionally?”

“Duh, no, really?” I said, stepping forward. “Of course it was intentional! I can’t believe you placed Savannah in the hands of women who had every reason to want her gone. I’m surprised they didn’t kill her instead of the boy.” I looked from Sandford to Nast. “Oh, I see. You figured they’d toe the party line because they’re witches. Too stupid, or too cowed, to plot against you.”

“Are we done with her yet?” Sandford asked, jerking his chin at me.

Nast looked at me, but his gaze was unfocused, distracted. “Just get her out of here. I’ll decide what to do with her later. I haven’t time for this right now.”

The moment Sandford asked his question, I’d started whispering the fog spell. I flicked my hand and a cloud of smoke burst from my fingertips, swirling up like a smoke screen. I raced into the bedroom, slammed the door, and cast a lock spell. Then I ran to the window and tugged on the frame. It was painted shut. I grabbed a chair and threw it through.

“Savannah!” I said, shaking her shoulder.

She gave only a low groan. I grasped her around the waist and pulled her off the bed. Then I looked out the window. We were on the second story. Maybe I could jump, but I could hardly throw Savannah out.

Leah pounded at the door. Sandford shouted orders, calling the others. I thought fast. Did I know any spells for getting Savannah down? No. Either I could find a way to lower her to the ground or I’d have to carry her. The first would take too long. I tried lifting her, but could barely get her off the floor.

The door flew open. Friesen burst through and grabbed Savannah from me. Leah followed at his heels.

“See, guys?” she said. “No rush, like I said. She wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Take her to the secured room,” Nast said.

Leah leaned over me and said in a mock-whisper, “Just a tip. Next time, run for the front door.”

Friesen and Sandford laughed.

They put me in a secured basement room, but bound and gagged me, leaving me incapable of spell-casting. Then Shaw shot a dose of sedative into my arm. I was unconscious before they left the room.

I don’t know how much time passed, but when I awoke, I found myself staring into Cortez’s eyes. I struggled to sit upright, smiling behind my gag. The eyes blinked and I saw within them something so cold I shuddered and skittered backward. Somewhere in the room Gabriel Sandford laughed.

“Scared of her own shadow,” Sandford said. “Just like a witch.”

The man bending over me blinked and the illusion shattered. They were Cortez’s eyes, but older. Older and soulless. He moved back and I saw that the resemblance ended at the eyes. This man was in his early forties, shorter than Cortez, with a severe, patrician look that might have been
handsome if he smiled, but with frown lines that suggested he never did.

“You’re certain?” he said. “About the relationship?”

“Certain?” Sandford said. “What do you want? A videotape of your brother banging her?”

The man turned a cold stare on Sandford, who straightened and cleared his throat.

“I can’t be absolutely certain, as she’s not likely to admit to it,” Sandford said, his tone formal. “Yet all evidence points to that conclusion. Your brother is searching frantically.”

“Frantically?”

“Very.”

The other man’s brows lifted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lucas frantic about anything. That seals the matter, then. Kill her.”

“And put her head in his bed?”

The man’s lip curled ever so slightly. He only shook his head, as if Sandford’s quip wasn’t worthy of an answer. Sandford stiffened, then dropped his gaze.

“Would you prefer I sent a videotape, then?” Sandford said. “Of her death?”

“That should do.”

“Degree of suffering?” Sandford asked.

“Average. Enough to hurt him, not enough to convince him it was overtly personal.”

“I’ll send my best.”

“No, you’ll send your most expendable. An independent contractor. That will be more cost-effective and will make it more difficult for Lucas to trace it back to you. You’ll involve no one else from the Nast organization in this matter, and you’ll eliminate the contractor once he’s finished the job. As soon as I leave, you’ll move her to a second location. From there you’ll arrange for the contractor to kidnap and kill her. You’ll then include this note with the videotape.”

The man handed an envelope to Sandford. When Sandford looked down at it, the man went on, “The note simply makes it clear that her death is his fault, that had she not become involved with him, and his ‘crusade,’ she’d still be alive.”

Sandford smiled. “A little guilt’s always good for the conscience.”

“Now make sure this cannot be linked to you or the Nast Cabal. As for me, I was never here.”

“That goes without saying. We have a deal, then?”

The man nodded.

“Just to, uh, be clear …” Sandford continued. “If I do this, I’m guaranteed a position in the Cortez Cabal, at a twenty-percent salary increase.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“I just wanted to be sure. I’m taking a big risk here. It would have been easier if I could have persuaded Kristof to get rid of her, but he’s still stalling, worried about that witch-brat of his. When he finds out this one disappeared on my watch, I’ll probably be out of a job, friend or not. So, of course, I want to be sure—”

The man’s gaze hardened. “Did I give you my word?”

“Y—yes, sir. Forgive me.”

“I appreciate your having brought this … unique opportunity to my attention, Gabriel. You will be very well compensated for it.” The man turned toward me, lips curving in a humorless smile. “I must say, it’s almost a shame she has to die. My father’s been worrying that Lucas will never provide him with grandsons. It’s hard to perpetuate a dynasty when the current heir shows no inclination to father future heirs. He’d be so pleased to hear that Lucas has finally found someone. Then he’d meet her … and probably drop dead of shock.” The man shook his head. “A witch? Unbelievable, even for Lucas.”

“Not
just
a witch,” Sandford said. “The head of the American Coven.”

“Oh, there’s a dynastic alliance guaranteed to make the Cortez Cabal the laughingstock of the supernatural world. I’m doing my father such a favor, it’s a shame I can’t tell him about it.”

The man turned to leave. As he walked out, a fireball flew from the ceiling and struck the side of his head. He whirled to Sandford.

“Don’t look at me,” Sandford said, stepping back. “That wasn’t one of our spells.”

The man turned to me. I glared at him, pouring every bit of hate and fury into that glare. The man opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shut it and settled for returning my glare before stalking out the door.

“I want her dead by sundown tomorrow. FedEx the tape to Lucas’s motel room. Overnight express.”

D
espite Cortez’s brother’s warning about involving others, Sandford had at least one ally: the half-demon Friesen. Less than thirty minutes after Sandford left me alone again, Friesen walked in. Without a word, he tossed me over his shoulder. He carried me from the room and across the basement to a hatch, much like the one in my house. Then he opened the hatch and pushed me through it.

I tumbled out the hatch door into a weed-choked garden. After being in the near-dark so long, the blast of sunlight made my eyes water. I struggled to wiggle free of my bonds, but they were tied tight. Friesen hefted himself out of the hatch, then picked me up, oblivious to my struggles, and slipped across the backyard to the barn. Inside the barn, a panel van was waiting. So was Gabriel Sandford. As Friesen carried me toward the van, Sandford snapped shut his cell phone.

“Done,” Sandford said. “He’ll be at the cabin in two hours.”

Friesen nodded. With me still over his shoulder, he flipped open the van’s rear gate. He laid me inside, faceup, then stepped back. His gaze traveled slowly over me, pausing at my chest and bared legs.

“Shut the door and get moving,” Sandford said. “Before someone notices she’s gone.”

Friesen gave me another slow once-over, then slid his gaze toward Sandford. “I was just thinking … you’re sending Lucas Cortez a video, right? Of her death? Why not … you know … bump it up a little.” His gaze shot back to me, a gleam of hunger alighting in his eyes. “I’ll do it for you.”

“You’ll do what?” Sandford caught the look Friesen was giving me and his lip curled. “Rape wasn’t part of the deal, and it’s not going to be. Just take her to the cabin, and let the professional do his work.”

“Seems like a waste, don’t you think?”

“No, I’d prefer not to think about it at all, thank you very much.” Sandford started to turn away, then frowned at Friesen, who was still
staring as if I was a free buffet dinner. He shook his head and threw up his hands. “Oh, hell, do what you like, but do it away from the house and before you get to the cabin, okay? You’ve got two hours. Now move.”

Friesen smiled and slammed the door.

As we pulled away from the house, I started to count. I had to get out of here before Friesen got far enough to pull over, and by the looks he’d been giving me, he wasn’t going to wait longer than necessary.

When I reached a hundred, I decided we were out of sight of the house, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on mentally casting the suffocation spell, aiming it at Friesen. Nothing happened, not surprising, since I couldn’t speak. Yet, back at the house, someone had lobbed a fireball. The spell came from my secret grimoires, so it had to have been me, though I wasn’t sure how I’d done it. Had my fury somehow manifested itself in an unintentional spell? I hoped so, as I hoped I could do it again, this time choosing my spell.

The van slowed, then pulled to the side of the road. Already? We couldn’t be more than a half-mile from the house. Friesen put the van in park. Then he swiveled, undid his seat belt, and squeezed through the front seats. I fought the urge to struggle and instead put everything I had into a mental cast. Nothing happened.

Friesen loomed over me. I started to fight against my bonds, inching backward across the floor.

“Not yet, honey,” he said, crouching over me. “Nothing to worry about yet. I’m just going to take a better look.”

As he unbuttoned my blouse, I rocked and twisted, but couldn’t move enough to even hamper him. He spread my shirt apart, then grinned.

“Red,” he said, gaze glued to my bra. “Black’s okay, and white’s kinda nice, but there’s nothing like a girl who wears red.” He stroked a finger across the bra cup. “Silk, I bet. A girl who really knows how to dress.”

While he fiddled with the front clasp, I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on casting something, anything. My bra popped open. Friesen inhaled sharply.

I opened my eyes and tried to wriggle away. He reached down for my breast, then stopped before his fingers touched me. He held his hand there a moment, then squeezed it into a fist and pulled back.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Prolong the fun.”

He grabbed my hips. I kicked at him, but he only tugged me sideways, so I was facing the front of the van. Then he reached down and hiked my
skirt up around my waist. I writhed and bucked, trying to get away, but he only grinned broader.

“Red silk,” he said, chuckling as he touched my panties. “A matching set, of course. Very nice. Poor Lucas. That boy probably didn’t know what hit him. You sure knew what you were doing, honey. I gotta give you credit for that. A first-class ticket to the good life … even if it did mean screwing that geek sorcerer.” He smiled and ran a finger up the inside of my thigh. “If you gotta go, I figure the least I can do is give you a better send-off.”