Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) (12 page)

Robert helps Natalie into his outsized SUV. Once she's in, Gillian slips in beside her, propping her up.

I'm under the front bench seat, peering out with my nifty I-see-just-fine-in-the-dark-because-I'm-a-cat eyes. Natalie has pulled her robe up to her knees, and her bare legs glisten with sweat just in front of me.

Robert steps along quickly to the driver's side, and Gillian starts talking, still tending to Natalie as Robert backs up, just a little too fast, the tires spraying gravel as he goes.

"Something went wrong. Eunice was trying to convince them to stay as we left. We were stupid not to let everyone in on the plan! Half the coven doesn't even know that's Eunice. Plus, Zelda and her daughter, who we know were loyal to Eunice, showed up. And yes, I know it's the full moon and we always meet on the full moon, but they didn't show at the last one when we didn't invite them." She's addressing me, I know, but cats aren't known for their conversational skills. It's not like I can answer back.

I go to the window at the side of the van and risk a peek outside, claws dug in to the upholstery. We're well away now. Eunice won't catch me if I shift. I slink into the back and make myself human, then presentable in a t-shirt and jeans, and shuffle back to the front seat, hunched over under the low ceiling.

"You know her better than we do," Robert says, his eyes darting a glance to the rear view mirror to meet mine, "What do you think she's up to?"

"My best guess is she needs the coven's power for something she wants to cast."

Gilly turns to Robert, "That's alarming. We need to go back. We have to keep an eye on her."

I say, "Drive to the lot near the rental cabins. There's a path through the woods back to the clearing from there. It's the shortest way back that will let us avoid being spotted."

"We need to get Natalie taken care of first," Gillian says.

She's right. "Robert, pull over. We need to stop Darrin. Gilly, call him and tell him to pull over when he sees us at the side of the road."

She takes out her cell and makes the call. The conversation is brief. "He's right behind us."

Robert pulls his SUV as far off the narrow road as he can get it. Natalie's doing worse now. When Darrin pulls his sedan up behind us, I help her to the waiting back seat. He hands her a bottle of water and says, "Don't worry. I've got this." Nat smirks despite the beads of sweat running off her face. Then they're gone.

Robert pulls a u-ie and heads back toward the road to the campgrounds that we just passed.

Gillian and Robert huddle together in the brush. They've taken the best viewing spot for themselves. It's dense enough to provide cover but with enough space to stand comfortably without pine needles and pricker bushes stabbing at every move. I whisper from behind, "Well, what are they doing?"

"Shush," Gillian says. She motions me closer to look through a break in the branches. Her brow furls and she squints toward the ritual space. "We made a foolish assumption about the need for a high priest and priestess. She's convinced them to stay and honor the full moon without us."

Looking out to the clearing, I watch with them as Kevin walks in from the direction of the parking lot with a box in his hands. I turn and whisper to Gillian, "That's just like the box I saw before Eunice took Cassie over. Could be the same one." She pats my arm to indicate she heard, her eyes never leaving the event unfolding in front of us.

Robert moves in closer to Gillian so that he can see, too, and she gives him a coy smile as he presses close to her, sharing her hiding place. He flicks a quick smile back. Why is Robert suddenly hot stuff?

The wind rises, chasing the branches of the trees, and I stop worrying about what's going on between the other two when the space the witches inhabit begins to swirl with light. Fireflies? No. Magic.

And then, too weird—it's as though a dome comes down around the circle and it's suddenly like looking through frosted glass. The witches are still there, lit by the awful light, but the distance and the veil around the ritual space make it impossible to tell what's going on. Then, at the center, one of the indistinct figures begins to glow.

Robert starts to move forward, but I stop him with a firm hand on the shoulder. "No, I'll go. I'll see what's happening. It won't help anything for her to figure out you've been working against her. It's dark outside whatever that dome is. Cat will be able to hide in the shadows."

I crouch to the ground and think
bad tom
, then shift, gritting my human teeth against the pain until they're replaced by cat's sharp, white ones.

I spring out of the brush on four legs, moving swiftly but close to the ground, my tail held out low to drift above the grass as I stalk.

Eunice is looking the other way when I approach the veil. It's not quite glass, but it's not quite air, either. I press a paw to it and try to push through. It gives, but I can't pierce it. Whatever Eunice is doing in there, none of us will be able to interfere.

From where I crouch hidden by a tall clump of grass behind the Cassie-thing's back, the fireflies of light swirl into longer plumes of flame, moving from the black-robed figure in the center of the circle to the box and disappear into its surface. The figure, I think it's Kevin based only on where he knelt in the center of the circle before the veil came down, pitches forward, hands to his throat, then falls to the ground, sparks leaping from his body until he stops moving completely.

When it's done, the golden light fades and the veil lifts. The witches look around at each other, then at Kevin. One of them starts to wail, one of them bolts toward the parking lot, but the Cassie-thing screams out, "Stop."

The witches freeze. Then, they move to her one by one, kneel, kiss the hem of her robe, and walk unhurried to the parking lot.

Once they've all knelt to her, the Cassie-thing turns her head on a sweep around the site. Oh Goddess, her eyes. I shrink as deep into the shadow of the lump of grass I lurk behind as I can. When those lit-up red orbs swing my way, I can only hope she doesn't catch a glimpse of me. They don't pause as they sweep over my patch of ground. She blinks them and the red light is gone, her hair suddenly appearing lighter than before. She looks deceptively like my Cassie again as she walks quickly to her car with the box clasped firmly in her hands.

Once Cassie's car leaves the parking lot, I dash toward the misshapen mass where Kevin had knelt. The thing I find there isn't Kevin anymore. His skin is like parchment, dried out and stretched tight across his bones. From his appearance, you'd think he'd been dead for years. He looks like the pictures of the unwrapped mummies from Eunice's archeology books.

I hear someone coming up behind me and look over my shoulder. It's Robert with Gillian trailing. He doesn't need to see this. But Cat is too small to stop him or hold him. I shift, but by the time I'm in control again, it's too late to get in his way and try to soften the blow.

He stumbles over an uneven patch in the grass and catches himself ungracefully before he falls to his knees next to his son, head in his hands, his sobs the only sound now that the wind has blown itself out.

Cat's predatory instinct has given me a high tolerance for all the stages of death, but it hasn't given me any understanding of grief. I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to comfort him. Not that anything I could say in the nude would be a good idea anyway. And I'm definitely not going in for a hug.

Gillian kneels next to Robert and puts a hand on his back. He turns to her and buries his head in her shoulder. She places her arms around him, rocking him the way she would a child. I turn to the woods and leave them alone as I go to gather my clothes.

It's unusual for a small town like Giles to have its own coroner, but the members of the choir are happy to pay the extra tax for his salary to assure that magic gone wrong doesn't become magic exposed. Not that the coveners are prone to murder, but a few miscalculations and…well, mistakes get made.

Like many of the residents of our fair town, Dr. Don knows just enough about the goings on around him to know that some things are better off not being written down. Even the non-magical residents have no interest in being scrutinized by the media. They're happy to let Salem ham it up for the business.

He stands up, shaking his head, and pushes his black-rimmed glasses up his nose as he walks to where Robert sits on a fallen log outside the ring that witches' feet have worn into the grass. Gillian still hovers over him. I think she probably won't leave him alone until she sees him safely home.

I step in front before he reaches them and guide him to the side, out of earshot. "Let's give him some time before he has to deal with all of this."

He shoves his glasses up his nose. "I'm calling this one. No ambulance needed. Another obvious case of drowning. That lake is becoming a real hazard."

"Thanks, Doc."

He inclines his head in Robert's direction. "I'd like extend my condolences before I go. He's a friend, you know."

I nod, but when the two men shake hands, Robert's grip is so visibly limp that you might think he'd been deboned.

The doc tells him, "I'll get him covered and contact the rescue squad. I can keep him at the morgue until you've had time to make arrangements."

Robert shakes his head. "No. I have an expert who needs to take a look."

The coroner squeezes Robert's hand again, and then I hustle him away and walk him back to the parking lot. It's easy to get turned around in the woods at night, but I know every inch. I've stalked all of them many times over the past forty-five years. Before we're out of sight, Gillian comes running after me, holding her keys out.

"There's a blanket in the back of my car. Please bring it back with you. Oh, and there's some of those tie-thingies with the hooks on the end. You know, the rubber-bandy things."

Fortunately, I speak female. It's long been a talent due to my appreciation of the species. I return with the blanket and three bungee cords. We wrap Kevin's body and secure it so that we can carry it to the car.

With no water left in it, Kevin's husk is light. Gillian takes his feet but doesn't need to carry much weight. I could carry him alone, but he's taller than I could manage easily.

Robert walks along beside us, the single mourner to our midnight pallbearing. After a silent trip back to the house with Gillian driving, she and I take the body to the cellar to wait for Natalie's inspection.

Although she doesn't admit to still being unsteady from yesterday's self-administered bout of sweating sickness, Natalie accepts the stool I pull over to the workbench so that she can get off her feet. She undresses the body with a no-nonsense air to take a closer look and sets the scorched clothing aside. She's thorough and professional.

She inspects him visually for a moment, then cuts into Kevin's desiccated abdomen with a scalpel, hmmm-ing and ah-ing. Her attitude is clinical until she grabs an arm to turn him, and it cracks out of the socket, tearing away in a small shower of dust.

"Jumpin' jujubees!" She sets the arm aside. It trails dust and flakes as it goes. "Don't mention that to Robert." She smirks at me conspiratorially. The incident appears to have perked her up. "You look a little green, there, Tom."

"Seems more real right now than it did last night. And way more ghoulish." I bring my hand to my nose, but I can't wipe away the musty smell released when the arm broke free. I'm more than a little grossed out by the thought that I've just breathed in a little bit of Kevin.

"It's time to cover him back up, anyway. I haven't learned anything. Basically, he's been drained. Every drop of essence is just gone. Nothing at all lingers. It would usually take a few days for the last sniff of it to leave a body. He's a blank. It's like he was never there."

We wrap him back up in the blanket, and Natalie takes my arm as we head upstairs. I'm just not sure who's steadying who.

There are only nine left now from the full coven of eighteen to lend our strength to any magic to come.

Natalie silently takes stock of the available assets as she looks from face to face in Robert's living room at the magical folk who remain.