Gray witch, p.8
Gray Witch, page 8
“What’s the ETA on the pizza?” I worked to thin the awkward silence. “I’m starving.”
“It’ll be about thirty minutes.” He thawed a bit. “You must eat a lot of takeout.”
“We live on it,” I confirmed, happy for a change in topic. “We live on the road too.”
“Ah.” He nodded once. “That would explain you hooking up with a fellow agent.”
“Um, yeah.” I wasn’t about to discuss my personal life with a teen. “How did your LARP go?”
“Productive.” He reached up as if to stroke the beard he no longer wore. “Practice makes perfect.”
Within the confines of Colby’s eavesdropping, he left me with goose bumps down my arms.
“Let me walk you to the bathroom,” he offered. “I’ll wait for the pizza at check-in.”
No longer trusting him with my food, I allowed myself to be shuffled through the correct door.
Certain he would wait to escort me back, I went through the motions of flushing and washing my hands.
Sure enough, Markus was on his phone when I exited, and his gaze flicked up to mine. “Done?”
“Yeah.” I turned back toward the craft room. “Mind walking me back?”
Might as well ask rather than fumble through another awkward exchange. He was coming either way.
“We wouldn’t want you getting lost again.”
At the door to the craft room, he saw me inside then shut it behind me. I almost checked to see if he locked it too.
“Was that Markus?” Trinity had her phone in hand. “I thought I heard voices.”
“I bumped into him outside the bathroom,” I fibbed. “He was nice enough to escort me back.”
“That’s him.” She didn’t glance up from the photos she was taking. “Nice.”
“How’s the wig inspection coming along?” I walked up behind Clay and peeked over his shoulder. “Looks like you two are getting serious.” I caught his gaze and let a hint of warning touch my eyes where Trinity couldn’t see and then mimed plucking a hair from her head. “I can’t remember Clay ever letting anyone touch one of his wigs. He must endorse your noble quest.”
“Try it on.” Clay poured on the charm. “You know you want to elf yourself.”
“Are you sure?” She examined the cap. “I don’t want to hurt it.”
“Here.” He took it from her. “Let me help.”
From a pile of bobby pins in a bowl, he selected two and seated the wig. As he secured it, she flinched, her back going stiff. But Clay’s smile was guileless, and his self-deprecating laugh authentic.
“Sausage fingers,” he muttered. “Sorry about that.” He flicked the ends of his hair, tucking the stolen strands from Trinity in his collar so he could show her his hands were empty as he placed them on his lap in clear view. “I just glue and go, so I’m out of practice.”
“No problem.” The crease of her brow smoothed when he held up a mirror for her. “Oh wow.”
“Right?” He chuckled. “The guy who makes my wigs is a magician.”
Technically, he was a witch, but I wasn’t here to split hairs. Just steal them.
A buzz in my pocket drew my attention to my phone.
>>This is your excuse to leave.
>Thanks.
>>We need to get Colby out of here.
A lump formed in my throat that I did my best to ignore.
>We’ll be there in ten.
Eyebrows on the climb, Clay watched me with a question in his eyes.
“We have to go.” I wiggled my cell. “We’ve got a lead we need to hop on while it’s fresh.”
“Okay.” Clay rose with regret painted on. “Tell you what.” He lingered. “Why don’t you keep those?”
“Really?” Trinity stroked the longer of the two. “You’re sure?”
“I have an extensive collection.” To say the least. “I can afford to lose a couple in service to a friend.”
“Thanks.” Her smile faltered. “Guess you guys will miss out on pizza.”
“Rain check.” I anchored an answering brittle smile on my face. “We’ll be out the rest of the night, but we should be back sometime tomorrow.”
“The door’s always open.” She settled onto her seat. “Do you mind if I stay here?”
“We can see ourselves out.”
On our way to the staircase, we bumped into Markus, who got to his feet. “What’s up?”
“Duty calls.” Clay gusted out a dramatic sigh. “Sorry, man, but we’ve got to go.”
“Brutal.” Markus homed in on me. “Guess we’ll catch you later?”
“We’ll be back late night or early tomorrow.” I hit the stairs. “Enjoy that pizza.”
“We will.” Markus watched us go. “Enjoy your hunt.”
Glancing back over my shoulder, I promised him, “We will.”
6
Figuring Asa wouldn’t have moved Colby, Clay and I returned to their shared room.
Sure enough, Asa was propped up in bed, Colby and her laptop settled across his knees. She was a bundle and a pair of antennae. That was all I could see sticking out of her green blanket. I couldn’t tell if she had been teaching Asa how to play Mystic Realms or if he had only been watching her. Either way, she was much calmer now than when I left.
Based on the angle, and her degree of swaddling, I wasn’t sure she noticed us enter.
“The rooms have been warded and soundproofed,” I reminded them. “We can speak freely in here.”
After checking that Colby was plugged in, Asa said, “We need to examine the woods behind the inn.”
With her headset on, she was oblivious to the topic of conversation, but she must have felt the vibration of Asa’s voice move through her. She peeked over the top of her screen, spotted us, and attempted a smile before settling back against him.
As much as I didn’t want to prod her about this, we needed more answers.
And I needed to be sure she was okay.
Death is always a shock. Violent death even more so. Poor kid. She had been having so much fun too.
The mother hen in me wanted to cluck about how this was why she wasn’t allowed to play with kids IRL, but I had had enough salt rubbed in my wounds as a child to know that wasn’t productive. And it wasn’t like it was her fault. I couldn’t cast blame on her, or let her blame herself, without diminishing her.
That, I would never do.
“Are we leaving?” Our bags hadn’t been unpacked yet. “Or are we surveilling?”
“We need to find out what happened in those woods for ourselves.” Asa flicked Colby a glance. “She can’t talk about it.”
Another flashback to our early years had me tasting bile as I recalled her shutting down, going mute, when anything reminded her of the Silver Stag or what had been done to her.
Loud noises. Bright lights. Murmured conversation. Absolute darkness.
The huge swing in what curled her into a ball made shielding her impossible, but trauma never did follow a set pattern.
“For now, we take the laptops and any sensitive materials,” Clay decided. “We’ll drive into town and park at a supermarket. We’ll lock those in the SUV, and you can ward it. We’ll leave our suitcases. Proof we’ll be back, in case anyone wants to set a trap for us while we’re gone.”
“What do we do about…?” I rubbed my arms. “She doesn’t need to see more if this is triggering her.”
“We get another hotel room.” Asa aimed the comment at Clay. “You stay there with her, protect her.”
“While you and Rue go have all the fun,” he complained. “How do I always draw the short stick?”
“Colby loves you best?” I punched his shoulder and then regretted it. “And, with one of us on Colby duty, I’ll need Asa and the daemon for this if things get weird.”
“I’m joking.” Clay’s amusement gave way to concern. “You know I love that kid.”
“I know you do.” I began gathering our critical items. “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t ask.”
As much as Clay hated being left out of the action, he was a nurturer. He would make more headway with Colby than either Asa or I would while she was still smarting from her ordeal. The truth was, when it was her and me, I had been her only choice for comfort. That sucked for her, since I was a direct link to that traumatic experience. Clay was a blank slate, a warm shoulder to cry on, and he was good with kids.
He was an antidote she might not realize she needed for the festering wounds from her past.
Loaded up, I waited for Colby to shrink to moth-size and climb into Clay’s pocket. I made one more circuit of our rooms and determined we could live without what we left behind if we had no choice.
We didn’t bump into either teen as we exited the inn, and while Asa loaded the SUV, I called Clay to me.
“Hairs, please.” I accepted the long strands he stole from Trinity and inspected them, discarding two of the five samples for being rootless. “Hold out your hands, pointer fingers extended.”
“This sounds like the start of a fart joke or one kinky evening.”
Gently, so as not to break it, I wound one strand around his left knuckle and then his right, leaving an inch gap between them.
“I’m going to recite a spell,” I told him. “When I give you the signal, you break the hair in two.”
Halfway through the process, I gave him a thumbs-up, and he jerked apart his hands.
“What did I just do?” He waited for me to finish, keeping hold of the ends. “Do you need these?”
“You can let them go.” I stepped in front of Asa. “You’re next.”
I repeated the process with him and then with myself.
“What did we just do?” Asa repeated the question. “What did I miss?”
“Clay has no hair, but the wigs are his. They were made for him. Someone with enough power and enough intent could twist that link and use it against Clay.” I rested my hand on Asa’s shoulder. “I’m not sure Trinity was grabbing for your hair so much as she was grabbing for a hair.”
“She’ll soon have access to our rooms while we’re out.” Clay put it together. “She could harvest strands from both of you. I would have been the problem child. A good wig doesn’t shed much or often.”
Not when you had them spelled to preserve them, they didn’t.
With that done, we piled into the SUV, and Asa angled toward me.
“Was it wise to do that in clear view of the house?”
“We couldn’t risk it.” I fastened my seat belt. “Hair is too dangerous to leave in enemy hands.”
Few hotels were on offer, and none of them had much in the way of amenities. As in, no cooking for us. I could imagine Clay grumbling, but he didn’t make a peep. This was about Colby, not him or his late-night cravings for cookies. Though, to be honest, I had to make a better showing of insomnia baking for him.
Lately, if I woke in the night…I mean…Asa was right there.
Warm, hard, and willing to distract me until I fell asleep again.
“Let’s get you guys checked in.” I opened my door. “I’ll be back with the keys.”
What I wanted was a moment alone to inspect the place before I left Colby there to get over her scare. I walked in to find an older woman manning the check-in desk, a tray of nachos in one hand and a slushy in the other. Her nametag read Myrtle, and it was smeared with cheese.
She set both down and wiped her hands when I approached her. “How may I help you?”
“Do you have a room available? Twin queens would be ideal.”
“Sure thing.” She paused what she was watching on TV. “Business is slow, now that…”
I waited for her to finish her thought, but she click-clacked on the keyboard instead.
“Now that what, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The murders,” she confided as she reached for a chip. “A town this size? Feels like half the people are dead.” She crunched down. “Sure you want that room?”
“I did hear something about a kidnapping. A fire too, I think.”
“I heard two crazies snatched a kid right out of his seat, over at the Waffle Iron. They were yelling at him in tongues and calling him a demon spawn.” She slurped her drink. “They set fire to the place on their way out. The kid hasn’t been found, and neither has the arsonist. Neither have the owners.” Another crunch to gauge my interest. “For that matter, no one remembers the last time they saw the Amhersts. It’s got some folks wondering if it’s an insurance fraud thing. Like maybe the restaurant was going belly up, so they offered the kid a cut of the profits if he helped make it look more legit. It’s not like they don’t have a fallback plan. They own that old Victorian. The Amherst Inn.”
“But there are kids staying at the inn,” I began, realizing my mistake. “I noticed them on the drive in.”
“Oh.” Her next gulp gave her a brain freeze. “Yes.” She rubbed her forehead. “Them.”
“Are they the Amhersts’ kids, or are they guests?”
“Trinity and Markus Amherst. They dress up and go tramping through the woods at night.” She crinkled a straw wrapper with vigor. “They scared the bejesus out of me two months ago. I was out walking, and I heard chanting. It was just getting dark, so I wasn’t too worried, but it was damn strange.”
Already, this had the hallmarks of a Very Bad Idea, in my humble opinion.
“This is Raymond, after all.” Her evident pride shone through. “Nothing bad ever happens here.” She took pity on the wad of paper and discarded it. “Until recently.” She carried on. “I stumbled across the Amherst teens pretending to cast spells.” Another chip bit the dust. “What do they call it? Some kind of club. A fantasy, make-believe thing.” She shook her empty drink. “Probably Harry Potter.”
A lot of parents blamed Harry Potter for, well, everything. The list was long, and my time was short.
“LARPing, I believe.”
“That’s it.” She awarded me a curt nod. “God only knows what that stands for.”
I could spell it out, but I knew it didn’t matter. She wanted someone to agree with her, not correct her.
“Did they see you?” I pressed. “Say anything to you?”
“No.” She tossed her cup in the bin. “I saw them first and hid behind a tree, then I backed away slowly.”
If what Colby saw was accurate, that bit of luck probably saved her life.
“Can you tell me where this occurred?”
“Just in the woods.” Her expression cleared. “There was a stump, now that I think about it, but trees are trees.” She caught my look. “Lynn Amherst is passionate about the preservation of the picoides borealis. Or she was.” Her interest in her snack waned. “She found a mated pair nesting in those woods and policed them vigorously. Of course, she’s dead now, and her son couldn’t have cared less about the red-cockaded woodpecker. Those kids of his run wild through the woods without Lynn around to keep them in check. I doubt there’s a pecker to be found on the property.”
Oh, what Clay wouldn’t give for an opening like that. “Does anyone else go into the woods?”
“Plenty of old-timers like me. We used to have a bird-watching club, but most of us have died off.”
“Um.” I struggled for a response. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Why all the interest?” She dipped her finger in the cheese. “You looking to put down roots?”
“I’m FBI.” I flashed her my badge. “My partner and I are investigating a string of arsons.”
“Huh.” She licked her finger clean. “I figured that was more of an ATF thing.”
The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms was more likely, under the right circumstances, but I had a patch ready for the hole in my story.
“The missing persons case is our main interest.”
Though we had already solved that portion, thanks, unfortunately, to Colby.
“That makes more sense.” She turned to the printer. “Sign here, and I’ll get your keys.”
We finished the deal with the usual chitchat about where to eat and what to do in town.
The list for both was short, which made it easier to remember and narrowed our suspect pool.
Out at the SUV, I gave Clay the paperwork and keycard then fetched his and Colby’s essentials.
“I got it.” He took them from me. “You guys head out so you can get in place before full dark.”
A prickle at the base of my neck warned me we were being watched, but I figured it was Myrtle.
“We need to see you in, actually.” I led the way. “I have to use the bathroom.”
The guys exchanged a weighted glance then followed me up and waited as I reclaimed the keycard and barged into the room. There wasn’t much to recommend it, but it was clean and smelled nice.
“I had a chat with the lady who checked us in,” I told them. “She was eyeballing us on our way up.”
“Anything to worry about?” Asa tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Or just curiosity?”
“Curiosity, I think.” I recalled her nachos with longing. “She struck me as bored and happy to gossip.”
On cases, those were my absolute favorite people to encounter.
“You want to cloak us,” Asa guessed, lowering his hand. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just hold still.”
Murmuring a concealment spell under my breath, I pictured Asa, his hair and eyes, his smile and laugh. I thought about how it felt to run my fingers over his body, how his skin smelled, how his naked body looked spread on the bed, waiting for me to join him.
A hot flash burned my nape, but I tried to play it cool.
The better you knew a person, the better you could hide them.
That was the excuse I allowed myself for picturing how he tasted when…
A low growl shocked me back into the moment.
Lips parted, Asa stood millimeters away from me, his breath ghosting over my mouth.
