Smoke on the Water Page 26

  Except for some twigs in her long red hair, Becca looked no worse for her ordeal. Her eyes still appeared greener than before but I decided not to mention it.

  “How did you change back?” I asked.

  “My mind was a jumble of human thoughts and wolf instincts and senses. I couldn’t focus, until Elise showed me how.” Becca reached for Elise’s arm, and Franklin made a move to stop her, but too late, her palm curled around the other woman’s wrist.

  “Happy to help.” Elise covered Becca’s hand with her free one. Hand hug.

  “Guess she isn’t a werewolf,” Franklin said.

  “I keep telling you that.” Without a shirt Owen appeared even bigger than before. His Marine-style physique should be on a military romance novel cover.

  “Since they can touch without getting a mutual migraine, I believe you.” Franklin shrugged. “When werewolves touch skin to skin…”

  “Supreme ice cream headache,” Elise finished. “I don’t know what you are, Becca, but it isn’t a lycanthrope.”

  “According to Cassandra, a fire witch is a djinn with fire in the veins instead of blood.” Becca tugged at the hem of Owen’s shirt, which hit her mid-thigh. “There was also something about shape-shifting.”

  “Cassandra would know,” Elise said.

  “What’s a djinn?” Owen asked.

  “I think it’s a genie.”

  “I’m not a genie,” Becca muttered.

  “Magic and fire and shape-shifting sounds like a genie to me.” Elise went to the car and pulled out an overnight bag.

  “Did you watch I Dream of Jeannie?” Becca asked. “No wolves, no fire.”

  “No demons or witches either. But she blinked and magic happened. She turned into smoke.” Elise started toward the cabin. “And where there’s smoke—”

  “There’s fire,” Becca finished. “Shit. I’m a genie.”

  “That’s great.” I shoved her after Elise the way I thought a little sister would. “Put on some clothes. We have a demon to banish.”

  *

  Sebastian was furious with himself. He was trussed like a turkey, being offered as the proverbial lamb. A lot of animal imagery. At least it passed the time.

  The girls had to know this was a trap. Would that keep them from coming? Probably not. It wouldn’t have stopped him.

  How could he have let himself be taken? To be fair, let wasn’t the right word. He’d been drugged—probably with a syringe and meds right from his own facility. He’d figured that out the instant he’d come to and seen Zoe and Deux.

  “Which one of you tried to kill Willow?”

  The guard, who looked a lot younger and smaller wearing jeans and not his uniform, jerked a thumb at Zoe. “I told her not to. The master wanted to use Willow as bait for the other two.”

  “She annoyed me.”

  Oddly Zoe appeared older out of uniform—probably all of eighteen.

  “Annoyed you how? She was a patient. You’re a nurse.”

  “Zoe has a thing for you,” Deux said.

  Willow had intimated the same, but attempted murder was going a bit far for a crush, wasn’t it?

  “Is that why you told the police I’d done something I shouldn’t?” Sebastian asked.

  “You did do something you shouldn’t. I saw you kiss her. She was a patient,” Zoe mimicked. “You’re a doctor. Though you won’t be for long.”

  As he probably wouldn’t be alive for long, Sebastian wasn’t going to worry about his career right now.

  “I called the police and the TV station,” Deux continued. “I figured someone would see you and report it. They did.”

  “The antiques shops,” Sebastian said.

  “Rookie move, Doc. You were going right down the line, south to north, junk store to junk store.”

  “How’d you get there so fast?” If “someone” had called the cops or the news, wouldn’t the cops or the news have arrived before Deux?

  “There are Venatores Mali everywhere. One of them informed me.”

  Sebastian still didn’t see how that had worked, but Deux had gotten to him before anyone else had. No denying that.

  “What do you care about witches?”

  “I don’t. Roland does.”

  “Why do you care about him?”

  “He came back from the dead.”

  Sebastian waited, but Deux seemed to think that was an explanation.

  “Zoe?” Sebastian asked. “What about you?”

  “Same reason.”

  Sebastian gave up. “What reason?”

  “He conquered death. We can too.”

  “You think he’s going to raise you from the dead?”

  “He promised,” Zoe said, a touch of whine in her voice.

  “You’re twelve. You’re really worrying about death?”

  “He promised her he’d fix her up—give her a better body, better face, eyes that don’t need Coke-bottle glasses.”

  “He can do that?”

  Deux shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.”

  “He’s a demon,” Sebastian said. “He lies for a living.”

  “You think he’s a demon?” Deux asked.

  “You think he isn’t?”

  For a minute they appeared uncertain, a little confused. Then the guard laughed and shook his head. “That’s crazy.”

  “You’re a member of a serial-killing witchhunting society that believes its leader is going to raise you from the dead. Who’s crazy now?”

  Confusion flickered in the man’s eyes.

  “Quit listening to him and do what you’re supposed to do.” Zoe was obviously the brains of this outfit. Wasn’t much of a contest.

  “What’s he supposed to do?” Sebastian asked.

  He didn’t see the first fist coming. Pain exploded under his eye, then across his jaw on the backswing. His teeth cut his lip, and he tasted blood.

  “Good enough?” Deux asked.

  Zoe smirked. “Not even close.”

  Hours passed. The two left. Roland came in and issued a threat. He’d gut Sebastian like a deer. More animal imagery. At least they were on the same page.

  Sebastian thought the guard might have given him a concussion. He’d had them before, and he’d always felt a little removed from the world—just like this.

  Zoe and Deux returned. They stayed in the shadows, both awed and a little cowed by Roland McHugh.

  The man didn’t look like a demon. He looked like someone who’d spent most of his life in the wind and cold. His face was weathered but very white, as if every element but the sun had battered him. His hair was unruly, straggling to his shoulders—dark and misted with gray. He was tall and thin, gaunt—very Ebenezer Scrooge.

  Sebastian considered the worn Levi’s, flannel shirt, and boots. Hadn’t McHugh been hoofing around in expensive athletic shoes the last time they’d seen him?

  “Did you rob a construction worker?” Sebastian asked.

  “If you like.”

  From the man’s expression, Sebastian deduced he’d killed a construction worker.

  “You’d better hope they come,” Roland said.

  “I hope they don’t.”

  “I will kill you.”

  “Better than your killing them.”

  McHugh’s brow creased. “Why wouldn’t you value your life over theirs? You barely know them.”

  “I barely know you, but I still want you dead.”

  “You don’t understand what they did to me.”

  “They were infants. They couldn’t do more than puke or pee on you.”

  The demon’s lip curled in disgust.

  “Grow a pair,” Sebastian ordered.

  Roland’s eyes flared, flames seemed to leap in their center. “My wife died screaming. My child never drew breath. Because of that witch.”

  “No. They died because of you. Because you didn’t get help in time.”

  For an instant, sympathy flickered. Sebastian understood what guilt could do to a man. How losing someone you
loved could make you think crazy things. However, it had made Roland McHugh do evil things and entice others to do them too. Charles Manson had never been proven a murderer, only an instigator of it. Yet still he rotted behind bars and always would. McHugh deserved no less; he deserved more.

  A wolf howled—so close all of them jumped except the demon. He smiled. “Prudence.”

  That smile gave Sebastian the heebie-jeebies. There was lust in that smile—whether for the woman she’d been or the death he planned for the wolf she had become, it didn’t matter. The expression was as nasty as he was.

  Someone banged on the door. Roland jabbed a bony finger in that direction, and Deux disappeared into the encroaching darkness. The door opened. Silence descended. Both Roland and Zoe frowned.

  “Deux?” Zoe called.

  Nothing.

  “Go,” Roland ordered.

  Zoe hesitated.

  “Haven’t I promised you beauty, wealth, and life everlasting?”

  The guy was a real piece of work.

  “You are safe,” he said, his voice that of a TV evangelist. “Have no fear.”

  Zoe went. The silence deepened.

  “You should probably have brought along more than two minions.”

  Shouts rang out, then shots.

  Roland grinned as wide as the Grinch. “I did.”

  *

  We circled around, came in from the forest and not the highway, sent the wolves ahead to scout.

  “He’s got an army positioned all around that factory.” Elise stood behind a tree. She’d shift back as soon as we had a plan. A werewolf was a better weapon than a virologist. She couldn’t throw theorems at them, but she could tear them into several smaller pieces. I wish I could watch.

  “How are we going to get in?” Franklin asked.

  “You aren’t.” I lifted the chalice. “We are.”

  My sisters held their items—wand for Raye, athame for Becca.

  Raye’s gaze lit on the pentacle carved into my chalice. She pulled the necklace over her head and offered it to me. “You should have this.”

  “You sure?”

  “In the vision, the crone with the chalice also had the pentacle.”

  She had. There’d also been something about her that bothered me, but I still couldn’t get my mind around what it was. I took the necklace.

  Bobby, Owen, and Franklin held sniper rifles. Franklin had brought an impressive arsenal in the trunk of his sedan.

  “How are we going to keep them occupied so you can slip into the factory without catching a stray bullet?” Franklin asked.

  I lifted my gaze to the moon just peeking over the tree line and tucked my chalice into the waistband of my jeans. Raye and Becca did the same with their magical items. Then I held my hands out to my sisters.

  “No need,” I said, and when they touched me we disappeared.

  Chapter 24

  We knew the spell. We had the items. We’d seen the lay of the land. What we hadn’t seen was Zoe and Deux.

  The instant we transported into the most shadowed, remote corner of the factory, I stifled a curse at the sight of them. What were they doing here?

  Visions weren’t exact. They changed depending upon the situation and the people involved in it. What they did. How others reacted to it.

  I’d also brought about the vision of Sebastian on my own rather than receiving it from wherever it was the images came. I might have seen the situation before I was meant to, and then it was altered after the fact.

  Nevertheless, they were here, and we had to do something about them. It was going to be difficult enough to perform the spell, which would require speech, and keep Roland off our necks long enough to finish. We weren’t going to be able to deal with all three of them and cast the spell at the same time.

  Raye tapped me on the shoulder, leaned in and whispered: “Send me outside. I’ll take care of them.”

  If we waited too long there might be more of Roland’s followers than we could handle. I had to trust that Raye knew what she was doing.

  I touched her, thought of the outside of the building, and she was gone. I was getting really good at transportation. I hoped we were all getting very good at spells.

  Things went quickly from that point on—Raye knocked. Deux answered. Silence followed, then so did Zoe. I listened with half an ear to Sebastian and Roland converse. At least Sebastian was conscious, and he sounded coherent.

  Roland seemed to think that his army was a secret. Excellent. Every little bit helped.

  Raye returned, slipping silently through the shadows. I spread my hands in question. She flicked hers in answer. She’d tossed them far, far away. I hoped they landed in Afghanistan or maybe an Ebola-ridden African nation.

  One of them had tried to smother me—I figured on Zoe, she was the type. But both of them had pretended to be caregivers, and considering where we’d just found them, their only care was murder and mayhem.

  We waited for Roland to go after his missing minions. He wouldn’t be gone long, but we’d get as much of the spell done as we could before he came back and found us. Then he was all Henry’s. Our father had been waiting centuries to ass-kick this guy.

  Except Roland didn’t leave. That was the trouble with minions. It didn’t matter if you misplaced a few, there were always a whole lot more.

  I motioned to Becca, who’d found and brought along a flat stone similar to the one we’d used on the ridge as an altar. She set it down.

  “We join together the power of blood-linked elemental witches.”

  We whispered the spell, yet still Roland heard. We’d known that he would.

  “You need to run,” Sebastian shouted.

  Roland punched him in the jaw as he went past, and Sebastian slumped.

  I cried out and Raye cut me a glance. “Focus. Start again.”

  “We join together the power of blood-linked elemental witches.”

  We set our items atop the stone. Athame. Wand. Pentacle. Chalice.

  “He comes,” we murmured as one.

  Raye’s eyes cut in a direction where there was nothing. When Roland flew backward and smacked into the far wall then landed on the cement, I knew that empty space held Henry.

  Despite hitting brick and then falling onto concrete, Roland got up. We lifted our items, one for each of them, two for me. The chalice seemed to buzz with power against my palm, but from the pentacle I felt nothing.

  “Go back from whence you came. Banished.” Our joined voices rose, louder and stronger with every word. “Now and forever.”

  The three of us waited for Roland to start screaming as he was pulled into hell. Instead, he began to laugh. “You think magic will work on me? I’m immortal. I’ll be here until the end of time.”

  Outside, gunfire erupted.

  “And I’ll never run out of fools willing to listen. My army will multiply. Eventually the Venatores Mali will overrun the world.” He started toward us.

  This time Becca shot fire from her fingertips. It hit him and rolled off like rain.

  I took a step in his direction, thinking I’d send him to that Ebola-ridden country. Not that disease would hurt him either, but at least he wouldn’t be here.

  “No,” Sebastian croaked. “Do not touch him.”

  Did he know something I didn’t? What if I tried to transport Roland, and he ended up transporting me, or dragging me with him? I didn’t know what kind of powers he had, but as I didn’t want to touch him—at all, ever—I hesitated.

  Raye swept her hand upward, lifting Roland off the ground. He dangled in the air, legs pumping, arms flailing. I wished for a convenient cliff to drop him from, but that probably wouldn’t kill him either.

  “Go,” she said. “Get Sebastian out of here.”

  “We aren’t leaving you.” Becca glanced at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

  “I’ll transport him to the others.” I hurried to Sebastian’s side, started tugging on the ropes, got really dizzy and nearly fell on my
face.

  “Willow? You okay?”

  I opened my eyes. My cheek was against his knee. I wasn’t sure how that had happened.

  “You’ve done too much.” Becca was there, helping me untie Sebastian. “We all have. Magic drains energy. We’re gonna have to regroup, recharge.”

  “You’re going to have to do more than that,” Roland said.

  I tried to ignore him, but he was right. The spell hadn’t worked. What were we going to do now?

  Becca and I helped Sebastian to his feet. He was wobbly. So was I. Becca looked pale enough to wobble too.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” Raye’s eyes narrowed on the demon. “As soon as I drop him on his head.”

  “That won’t do a damn thing,” I said.

  “It’ll amuse the hell out of me,” Raye muttered.

  Outside, the moon poured down. The gunfire had petered off, though a shot sounded in the distance. As no bullets winged our way, I had to think that all the minions had been drawn elsewhere or killed.

  A cry from Raye had us pausing mid-drag. Before I could say “Go” Becca growled, burst into flames, and became a wolf. She was getting really good at that too.

  Sebastian’s knee buckled, but he managed to get it back under him and not drag us to the ground. Becca disappeared into the factory. I considered propping Sebastian against a wall and following her, then a white wolf and a black bounded inside too. Snarling and slavering ensued.

  Raye emerged and took Becca’s place with Sebastian. “I think Mom’s enjoying tearing pieces out of him a little too much.”

  “That’s impossible.” There couldn’t be too much enjoyment in that.

  Headlights careened around the bend, and the Suburban skidded to a stop. Owen and Franklin spilled free, took Sebastian between them and hauled him toward the tailgate.

  “Is he gone?” Franklin asked.

  I lifted my eyebrows at Raye. If a bullet hadn’t ended Roland McHugh, I doubted wolves could.

  She shook her head.

  We piled into the truck and sped away.

  *

  Sebastian lay in the cargo area, trying to catch his breath. From the sharp pain that caused, he thought Deux might have broken a few ribs.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Willow, who had climbed into the back along with him, touched his cheek very gently. “He would have killed you.”