“Okay. Well, thanks for the information. I’ll keep trying to get any impressions about what happened. It’s hard, though. I can’t force myself to have an insight or vision.”

  “You didn’t find anything out today?” Jessup asked, sounding disappointed. “I was really hoping that you would be able to get somewhere.”

  “No. I talked to Corvin and his coven, but you’ve already talked to them, so you know I didn’t get very far with them. Although, they met at that temple orange grove, and the temple is really stunning.”

  “The temple? I thought that all that was left of it was a few stones in the ground?”

  “Physically,” Reg agreed. “But I can still see the… psychic impression. It’s amazing.”

  “Oh, well, that’s nice. And… you didn’t get anything when you talked to anyone in the coven? Any impressions or idea of what might have been going on in Davyn’s life?”

  “No. According to them, he was well-liked and didn’t have any secrets.” Reg snorted. “He would be the first one. He must have had something in his past that he didn’t want turned up. But… no insight into what happened and who bound him in this… void.”

  “Or how to get him back?”

  Reg shrugged, wishing she had a better answer. “I don’t know. Who do you talk to about getting someone back from a place like that? Is there a magical missing persons department? A lost and found for misplaced warlocks?”

  “That’s not really funny, Reg.”

  “I know.” Reg sighed. “I’m just trying to figure out what to do. It’s frustrating to know that he’s there, but not how he got there, who imprisoned him, or how to get him back. Really frustrating.”

  She really was hoping that Jessup would come back with some brilliant suggestion. That there was a special department for dealing with such things or an ancient witch or warlock who could help call Davyn back. It wasn’t right that she was the only one who had been able to see him when she had so little knowledge of the workings of the magical world around her. Why couldn’t it have been Sarah or someone who would know what to do about it?

  “Is there anyone who would know what to do?” Reg pressed. “Isn’t there… some expert who could see him and get him out?”

  “No. I’m not sure anyone has the knowledge or skills of how to retrieve someone who is stuck on another plane. Maybe… he’s just in a root cellar or pit somewhere, and it was just too dark or obscure for you to see it. That would be a lot easier to get him out of.”

  Reg thought of the root cellar in Davyn’s house. She knew he wasn’t there. She had checked, and there was nowhere to hide him there. Despite what Jessup wished, she was pretty sure that Davyn was not being held in a physical place that she could lead the police to.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  It was after midnight and in the small hours of the morning before Reg went to bed. She was tired out from the long day and happy to be settling in for a good rest.

  She had done everything that she could, but didn’t feel like she was any closer to figuring out who had sent Davyn to the void and how to get him back. It was incredibly frustrating knowing that she could reach out to him and feel him close to her, but couldn’t figure out how to get him out. How long could he survive in that state? Would he die without any food, water, or sleep? Or would he live in a suspended state in the void, tortured but unable to escape or die until the end of time?

  It came as no surprise that going to bed worrying about Davyn, she fell into a dream about him as soon as she fell asleep.

  Nothing had changed. It was still dark and cold. She could sense Davyn there in the darkness and tried to reach out to him telepathically. Of course they couldn’t shout to each other across the void, but thoughts were faster and shouldn’t be lost in the nothingness.

  Fear.

  Trying to connect with Damon, she tapped into his emotions and, of course, the thing that was foremost in Davyn’s mind was fear. He was trapped, maybe for the rest of his existence, in this lonely place without light or sound or food or drink. A place that was cold and airless and that no one else could get to.

  It was terrifying.

  Reg had long associated fear with the physical responses in her body. Heartbeat and breathing, a knot in her stomach, tightly-tensed muscles. But in the void, Davyn did not seem to connect with his body, or Reg with hers, but the fear was still there. Maybe darker and deeper like the void itself.

  I’m here. Reg tried to project reassuring thoughts to him. I’m here, and I’m trying to figure out how to get you home.

  There was no direct answer, no answering words or voice like there were when she was communicating with Corvin or the gnomes. Just the fear. Now his fear enveloped both of them. No longer worried about just himself, but her as well, caught there in the void with him. How was she going to get herself back out?

  Reg gasped for breath and awoke in her bed, her whole body rigid. She looked around her and tried to reassure herself. It was just a dream. She was not there with Davyn. Everything was going to be okay. As long as she could find a way to rescue him from that place. Or non-place.

  Starlight was snuggled up against her, purring. Reg reached out her fingers to pet him and burrow into his thick black fur for comfort and reassurance. There was a meow from the windowsill at the same time as Reg’s fingers met with the cat beside her and she recognized that it was not Starlight. The fur was coarser, the body larger.

  Reg sat bolt upright and looked at him. The shape in the darkness beside her was not Starlight’s neat, compact form. It was closer to the size of a small panther.

  Reg reached over to the bedside lamp and turned it on. By the time her fingers met with the switch and she managed to fumble it on, she knew what she would see. The huge black cat staring back at her was familiar.

  “Horace! What are you doing here?” She gave him a hug and buried her face in his fur. “You scared me!”

  The kattakyn purred and licked at her hair. Reg pulled back and scratched his ears. He seemed calm and happy, which was a relief. When she had tried to rehome him with Marian, another psychic in Black Sands, he had not been happy with the match. He had been sad and had returned to her repeatedly while she’d slept. Only rather than being on the bed beside her, he had lain down on her chest, crushing the breath out of her. The kattakyns were known to be able to kill that way, entering people’s homes during their dreams, lying on the victim’s chest and getting heavier and heavier until the breath was crushed out of them. Starlight had saved Reg from this fate more than once, chasing Horace off before he could kill her.

  It wasn’t that he had been angry with her and wanted to kill her or had been directed by the Witch Doctor to do so, as other kattakyns had been before Reg and the others had defeated him. Horace had been confused. Disrupted, taken from his home, the piece of the Witch Doctor that he had been carrying torn from him, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t stay with Reg and what the consequences of returning to her and lying on top of her would be. Her efforts to find Horace a new home had been unsuccessful until she had come across Merneith on an unrelated quest.

  Reg rubbed her fingers around Horace’s ears and scratched down his back. “Is Merneith here?” she asked softly, reaching out with her senses and feeling for the long-dead Egyptian queen.

  I am here, she heard the reply in her head, similar to when she was speaking to a gnome. I have no wish to be disembodied again.

  She had apparently had her fill of being a wandering spirit in the several thousand years she had been alone in the tomb.

  Are you both happy? Reg directed her question at Merneith’s consciousness. Was this a good arrangement?

  We are at peace, Merneith confirmed. Both of us together… are much happier.

  Good.

  Starlight jumped down from the windowsill to the bed and walked over to Horace to touch noses with him.

  “What do you think?” Reg asked him aloud. “He’s doing better?”

  Starlight began to groom the much larger cat. Starlight, too, was Egyptian in origin and had been there when Merneith and Horace combined, so it was no surprise to him that the big cat was actually two consciousnesses, not just one.

  “You didn’t lay on top of me this time,” Reg observed. “That’s a good boy.”

  Humans are fragile, Merneith observed. Crushing them is not a good idea.

  “No,” Reg chuckled. “I much prefer him just lying beside me.”

  Reg brushed her fingers against her shirt to make sure they were clean of fur before rubbing her eyes, yawning.

  “What time is it? It’s too early for me to get up.”

  Cats are nocturnal.

  Right. Reg scratched Horace’s ears. “I’m glad you’re happier now.”

  There was a feeling like a sigh from Merneith. It is good to be at rest. The sah needs a home.

  Sah seemed to be Merneith’s word for her spirit or ghost.

  Could you leave Horace again if you wanted to? Reg asked curiously. She knew very little about how the world of spirits worked, and if it worked the same for all humans or was different for each human culture. Was there one afterlife or many? Not all spirits remained behind, where Reg could talk to them. The ones who stayed behind seemed to have frequently met with sudden or violent ends. But some just seemed uncertain about where to go or what to do next.

  Of course. I have will. But I have no desire to leave.

  And if you did, you could just decide to? There doesn’t need to be a… call or special ritual done.

  It is easiest to move to another body. Being disembodied is… uncomfortable. Merneith seemed amused by her own words. If one can have discomfort without a body.

  Reg hadn’t thought about that before. But she had been uncomfortable in the void where Davyn was, even though she hadn’t felt like she had a body there. Did she? Or had it just been the lack of sensory input?

  Well, I’m glad that you both found a way to be happy together, Reg acknowledged. She yawned again and lay back down, stroking both Starlight and Horace. She closed her eyes, thinking about Horace and Merneith, and then her mind wandered to Davyn.

  If you were without a body, could you go somewhere… I don’t know where it is. Somewhere very dark and full of nothing. A friend of mine is there, and I don’t know how to get him out.

  Her brain was already starting to drift, dozing as she petted the cats.

  Where is this? Merneith inquired.

  Reg was so close to sleep, it was easy to share what was in her head. If she had been awake, maybe she would have been more careful about opening her mind to such a powerful entity. She tried to recall the times she had been in the void with Davyn with as much clarity as possible. How could she describe it? It was nothing. There was nothing to describe. Nothing to remember except that Davyn had been there, and he had been scared.

  Who is using this underworld place? Merneith inquired.

  Reg was too close to dreamland to answer. Horace nudged her arm with his nose. She tried to rouse herself for long enough to finish the conversation. I don’t know. But I want to get him out. Can you tell me how to get him out?

  To wrestle the sah binding him there? You do not have the strength.

  Who does? Can you help?

  Sleep now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  When Reg finally did wake up again, she knew that something had happened in the night but couldn’t remember what it was. Everything was vague and shadowy. Maybe she would remember more when she’d had a coffee or three. Or maybe it would be one of those things that just faded the more she tried to remember it.

  She put the coffee grounds in the hopper of her machine and pressed the button to brew. Her phone rang. Reg put it to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Regina.” Corvin’s purr filled not just Reg’s ear, but went straight to her heart. It had been a while since she had heard that tone from him. She had almost forgotten how it gave her the shivers. Goosebumps spread down her arms.

  “Whoa. Good morning!”

  He chuckled, apparently sensing her surprise and immediate physical response. “It won’t be morning very much longer. You had a good sleep, did you?”

  “I don’t remember. I think there’s something I should be able to remember, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “Still having memory issues?”

  “No. Just when trying to remember something I dreamed.”

  “Ah. So how about grabbing a coffee together this morning? Or early this afternoon.”

  “I’m just making coffee now. And you’re not coming over here to drink it.”

  “Then let’s go out somewhere else. You can dump that down the drain. It would be so much nicer to go out for coffee.”

  Just the way he said it made Reg think of a fragrant, high-end coffee house. Coffee from her own machine was one thing. It was enough to do the job and wake her up. But a much higher standard of coffee, a chic little cafe, and Corvin’s company…

  “No, I shouldn’t,” Reg objected.

  “You should. Let me treat you. I’ve been a bear to you lately, so let me make it up.”

  It was true; he’d been incredibly grumpy and annoying, but she didn’t think that he’d been aware of it himself.

  “I shouldn’t waste this.”

  “Dump it. I won’t tell anyone. You need to indulge yourself now and then. And I’m offering to do it today. Take me up on it.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  Reg had meant to say, “Where are you going to go?” but the we slipped off her tongue before she was prepared for it. She could at least have led him on for a question or two. Teased him, because he was definitely going to be teasing her.

  “We could go to my club. Nice private rooms there,” Corvin suggested.

  As if she hadn’t turned down the private rooms at Corvin’s exclusive club a hundred times before. There was no way she could take the chance of being alone with Corvin. Especially since she got the feeling that the ever-accommodating hostesses at the club would happily look the other way. Anything to make Corvin happy. Reg suspected that some very unsavory things went on behind the scenes at that place, hidden under the umbrella of wealth and exclusivity.

  Wealth and exclusivity might hide a multitude of sins, but didn’t make them right.

  “How about The Witches’ Brew?” Reg suggested instead.

  Corvin sighed, but she knew that he wasn’t really upset at going to the coffeehouse instead of his club. He had known that she would turn it down. The fact that she was suggesting somewhere else confirmed to him that she would go, no matter how ill-conceived an idea it was, and that’s what he really cared about. The chance to be close to her. So that he might be able to charm her, to get his hands on her gifts once more.

  “Will you head over there now?” Corvin asked.

  Reg looked down at herself. “I’ll be a few minutes. Have to make myself decent.”

  “Don’t do that on my behalf,” he snickered. “And you know, I’m perfectly happy to bring coffee to your place. Then you don’t have to get dressed or leave your house. Everything in the comfort of your own cottage.”

  “You can’t come in. Don’t even think about it.”

  “One day, Regina…” his words were a low, throbbing purr. “One day…”

  “Today is not that day.”

  “Well then… text or call me when you’re on your way and I will meet you there. Don’t take too long. I might think you’re standing me up.”

  “I’ll be there,” Reg promised.

  She hung up the phone.

  Why was she going? Because she was still tired and wanted some good coffee instead of the stuff she had brewed? To prove to herself that this was not the case, she poured herself a mug of the fresh coffee and took it with her while she got ready. She needed the caffeine boost to actually get her out of the house. Then she could reward herself with one of those really good coffees. It wasn’t really about the coffee. She assured herself that it wasn’t because of Corvin, either. Just because he was back to himself again and interested in the game once more, that didn’t mean she had to play along. Or that she wanted to get caught.

  It would give her the opportunity to ask Corvin more about Davyn in a more relaxed environment. He had not been happy when she and Damon had interviewed him in his home. If he were happy, he might give her completely different answers from the ones he had already supplied. She was sure that he knew Davyn better than he was making out. Maybe they weren’t best friends, but Davyn was Corvin’s spiritual advisor and had gotten him out of some scrapes. They had been in the coven together for years, maybe even decades or centuries. Could Corvin really know someone for that long without knowing something of his personal life and troubles?

  That was the only reason she was going.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  She gave Corvin a heads-up that she was leaving the house and he was at The Witches’ Brew ahead of her. He already had a large coffee in front of him. When Reg entered, he stood up from his chair and smiled and beckoned to her. He acted like a gentleman, pulling her chair out for her, seating her, and pushing the chair back in again.

  “Now, what can I get you?” he asked, bending down low to whisper in her ear, his warm breath on her throat. Reg’s heart raced.

  “Uh… let me just look at the board for a minute.”

  There were way too many densely-printed words on the order board for her to be able to read through them. Corvin didn’t want to wait for her all day while she read through the encyclopedia of coffees, other beverages, and sweet treats. Instead, Reg fell back on the trick of just focusing on the few posters with seasonal specials on them.

  “That one,” she pointed it out to Corvin, “with the caramel in it. That looks amazing.”

  “It looks like a week’s worth of calories,” Corvin laughed. But he didn’t object to her choice or suggest something else.

 

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