Witches, Voids, and Other Sanity Suckers
Chapter 26

Agiggling Az races off, calling out something about the wards, and leaves mealone with the unconscious Sally. I follow Az as she heads toward the runestone that anchors the wards. Jose abandons his position near the porch tostalk after her. Good ocelot.

Iprod Sally’s shoulder with my foot. She groans; her eyelashes flutter open. Warygray eyes peer up at me. “Rick? What happened? Where am I?”

Ofcourse. Az instructed me on how to screw with Sally’s mind but didn’t stickaround to help me figure out what lie to put in place of the erased memories. How typical.

“Youcame to tell me about that two of your witches had gone missing. You wanted tohire me to replace them. Unfortunately, you stumbled in during an attack. Youmanaged to stay out of the fracas, but someone got you in the face.” I swallowmy anger. It goes down like ground glass. Sally has information that couldprotect my pack. “I’m sorry you were injured, Sally. We did our best to protectyou.”

Shebrushes off my apology when I – reluctantly – offer a hand to help her up. Shesways, but I don’t wrap an arm around her like I did with Az. “My head iskilling me,” she moans, pressing her fingertips to her temple. “And there issomething wrong with my magic. I must have my magic.”

“Theattackers put some whammy on the property. It crashed my wards and must havedone something to your magic.” It’s not the best lie, but I can’t very welltell her that I have a void or that said void drained her.

Sallyeyes my destroyed lawn, bloody Shifters, and decimated mailbox. She stills whenshe spots Az. The hand pressed against her head trembles. “Who is that? Shelooks familiar.”

Iscrew my face into what I hope comes across as a look of concern. “You’ve mether before, Sally. Perhaps we should get you to the hospital.”

“No,no. It’s there… just fuzzy. Who is she?”

“AzStanton. Ike’s sister. She’s under the pack’s protection.” And that’s all Sallyneeds to know.

“Isshe…?”

“No.Their mother is not a Shifter.”

Sallynods. If she replaces it odd that I’ve taken in a not-Shifter, she doesn’t say. “Shewas there during that ugly mess with Claire.”

“She’smy assistant.”

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Sallystarts to walk toward the house. I steer her to her abandoned car. “You need tosit, Sally,” I say. “You were out for a while.” She doesn’t look happy with me,but she perches on the hood of her vehicle without complaint. She wraps botharms around her middle and rests her head on her knees.

Greer’sunmarked blue sedan screeches to a halt just behind Sally’s car. Great. A partyjust isn’t complete without uninvited guests and gate crashing cops. At least Ican foist Sally off on him.

Theground beneath my feet vibrates. I don’t bother tensing. The cadence isfamiliar. A small, slightly swollen hand, curls around mine. Had she calledGreer? If that’s her idea of being helpful, she needs to rethink the definitionof the term.

“Hello,Detective,” she greets cheerfully. Giddy laughter lingers in her voice. “Howkind of you to come so quickly. Your text didn’t mention that you were in thearea.”

Soshe didn’t call him. Good. I’d hate to have to kick her ass. “Greer,” I say,inclining my head slightly. If he has info, I’m not booting him out. Yet.

“Anotherattack, Rick?” he asks, surveying the chaos.

“Strangleholdon the obvious you have there, Detective.” I want to say more, but Az jabs herelbow in my side. My aching, wounded, just-stopped-bleeding side. I glare downat her, but she doesn’t look chagrined. Not even a little.

“Playnice, darling,” she chides.

“Whathappened to your nose?” Greer demands, leaning in to get a closer look at Az’sface. He scowls at me. I scowl back. “You were involved in the attack, Ms.Stanton?”

“Ofcourse,” she trills, as if Greer just politely informed her that the sky isblue and the Earth is indeed round. “They attacked the pack.”

“But…,”Greer starts.

Azwaves her free hand dismissively. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

It’sa lie. That nose has to hurt. Pointsto her for trying, though. And for unintentionally ratcheting up my guiltlevel.

“Ricky,darling, I’ll leave you to deal with our dear detective and Ms. Caplinger,” Azsays, untangling her fingers from mine.

Itransfer my glare back down to her. She blinks. Smiles beatifically. “Pretty,pretty please?”

BeforeI can tell her that she doesn’t give meorders and that she should be the one to deal with Sally-the-drama-witch andDetective Kiss-Ass, she skips off to meet Steve’s approaching SUV. As soon asall this mess is over with, I’m going to buy a collar for that woman. And aleash and a ball gag . Or handcuffs.

Ooh…handcuffs.

Nowthat’s a visual I don’t need given my current company. I file it away forprivate contemplation.

Greerlends Sally his arm for support. Good. I didn’t want to have to touch heragain. Halfway to the house, Greta waylays me. She gestures for Mark to escortthe cop and the witch to the porch. He won’t take them into the house. Notwithout me.

“I’lltake care of everything out here,” Greta assures me, hand on my shoulder andeyes on the activity behind me. “Tommy is awake, and I’ve bound the worst ofhis wounds. Steve and Paul will go on guard duty; Mark and Oscar will remain onthe porch as back up only. As soon as we’re able, we’ll move the triage stationinside.”

“It’smy pack, Greta.” I’m not entirely sure whyI have to remind people of that fact. I have a feeling I know when the reminders became necessary,though.

“Yes.And you would serve it best by working with the bitch and Greer on figuring outjust what the hell is going on. Az will join you when she’s able. Since many ofus will have to stay Shifted to heal faster, and going to the ranch isimpractical at this moment, Az is going to work with Uriah and Quinn on settingup something downstairs.”

Azmust be a detrimental influence on me because all I can do is blink at my beta.“She’s going to do what now?”

“Clearall the furniture out of the living room and drag out whatever spare beddingshe replaces in the linen closets. It was her suggestion, though we’ve decided totell everyone we’re working under your orders. The boys need to feel useful,but they aren’t ready to be on the front lines. She’ll order pizza, and I’llcook for those on a more protein-based diet.”

Gretalooks smug. For a moment, just a moment, I want to punch her. While I wastalking with Greer and Sally, my beta and my… my… my albatross were working outa plan on how to handle my pack.

“Youtwo have this all figured out already, don’t you?”

“Ofcourse we do.” Greta pats my cheek. I growl at her, but she only laughs at me. “Don’tworry. We can handle this. No mutiny in the offing.”

“Isure as hell hope not.”

Myface must show some of my frustration because neither Sally nor Greer sayanything as I lead them through the house to the study. Sally, after regallysettling on the couch, gives all the details she knows about the two missingwitches. Krista Hennessy: 18, blonde, afraid of enclosed spaces, freshman at Uof H. Jessica Castillo: 25, brunette, pissed off all the time, department storefloor manager. Krista was abducted while walking home from a friend’s house. Jessicanever made it home after she left work.

Greershares some of what he’s learned about the ten dead witches that have popped upover the past two weeks. There are missing persons reports for six otherwitches. With Sally’s two, that makes eight. Eighteen witches dead because ofOlivet’s need for power.

“Ialso have the list of stores that have sold Orrta oil, yuea root, and qax inthe past week. There are only three,” Greer says, handing me a sheet of paper.

Sallypeers over my shoulder at the sheet. “Orrta oil is used for protection spells,”she says. “Those are all coven-owned stores. The first one on the list is ownedby the Illya coven in Pasadena.”

“Haveyou felt the need to stock up on protection spell ingredients?” I ask her.

Shefidgets. Clasps her hands together only to shake them free and wipe her palmson her skirt. “Yes. At our weekly Matron meeting, we discussed having amulti-coven meeting to place protection spells over all in attendance.”

“Why?”Greer asks, leaning forward and pinning her in place with his steely gaze.

“Something’scoming. Something big. Can’t you feel it in the air?”

Ithink back to what Az said earlier. “Are you a seer, Sally?”

Shestarts to shake her head in denial but halts. She spreads her hands out, palmsup and fingers straight. “No. Mygreat-grandmother was a clairvoyant of some regard. My mother used to read thecards, but her accuracy wasn’t that of a master. Anything I have is latent. Inaccessible.”She snorts. “Claire was our coven’s visionary.”

Yeah. I know. Kooky Claire temporarily passedall that “talent” on to my void, and now I have four pages of babble that Ihave to decipher.

“IsMs. Stanton a seer?” Greer asks.

“No.”What had the Patriarch called her? It seems like the best lie to stick with. “She’sa reader.”

Sallynods as if that means something to her. I guess it does. As long as it explainswhy Az can do what she does without giving away all that she can do. Good God, I’m even starting to think like her.Hell.

Theobject of my annoyance pops her head into the study before the conversation canresume. Her eyes dart from Sally to Greer to me. She starts to back out intothe hallway without saying a word. Oh no. She doesn’t get to escape while I’mstuck playing host.

“Az!Greer has information to share with us.”

Sheslowly returns and perches on the edge of the arm of the couch so that she’sbetween Greer and me. She’s as far from Sally as possible. Smart girl.

Greerrepeats his report on the dead and missing witches. When I ask for thelocations where the girls went missing and where the bodies were discovered,Greer offers to email me the information. I don’t know if there’s a pattern toreplace, but it’s worth exploring.

“Whatabout the…,” Az frowns at Sally before turning her face back to Greer, “otherinformation we requested?”

“Sofar we’ve only had four reported – not including the two this morning and thetwo at Dora’s Box,” he says, displaying more tact than I would have given himcredit for.

Iknow what he’s not saying. Centaurs don’t report murders or missing persons theway that witches do. Centaurs don’t trust the police. I don’t blame them. I’llcall the Patriarch to see if he is willing to work with me.

“Haveeither Krista or Jessica seemed off lately?” Az asks Sally. “Not full-goosenutso like Claire, but distant? Exhausted?”

“Kristahas been distracted, but the transition to college has been difficult for her.”Sally twists her fingers together. “Jessica has been unsettled during covenmeetings. I intended to ask her about it, but there was never a good time.”

Itdoesn’t look like there’s going to be a good time. If these girls have beentaken in by Olivet, there’s a very good bet we won’t replace them until it’s toolate. I don’t look at the pictures she passes Greer. Given that it’s likelyI’ll see these girls once they’ve been drained and barbecued, I don’t reallywant to see a “before” picture.

“Whatabout boys?” Az stretches out her feet so that her ankles are crossed overmine. She starts to slide off the couch. I plant a hand on her hip to keep herin place. She leans into the touch so that I wind up supporting all of herweight.

“Neitherwas in a relationship that I know of, but the younger ones don’t tell meanything,” Sally answers.

“Neithermentioned any dates? Mystery men? Blind dates? New friends?” Az pushes whenSally hedges.

“No.”Sally’s lips twist into a frown. “What’s going on?”

“Clairewas seeing a man named Joel Olivet,” I lie. It’s easier than telling Sally thather witch was a pawn to a power-hungry warlock. “He is the reason she went offthe deep-end. We fear she’s not the first or last witch he’s done this to.”

“Andyou think he got my Krista and my Jessica.”

“Andthe others,” Greer says. “Have you ever met Mr. Olivet?”

Sallyshakes her head sorrowfully. “The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

The faint, foul odor of deception rises fromher skin. I hear Sally’s heart rateincrease. Her breathing goes from slow and steady to quick and shallow. She’slying. The fucking wolfsbane-growing witch has the balls to sit in my fuckingstudy and lie to my face. This is it. She and I are through.

Az’sfeet twitch. I don’t know if it’s a reaction to Sally’s lie or to my anger. BeforeI can rip Sally apart for lying, Az straightens and plants her feet flat on thefloor. She squeezes my hand briefly before focusing all her attention on thewitch.

“Areyou sure, Sally?” she croons, sliding forward on the couch so that she’s only inchesaway from the deceitful bitch. “Are you sure you haven’t met him? You haven’trun into any cute younger men? Maybe he bumped into you at a magic store or ata coffee shop near where the Matrons meet. Started up a conversation aboutmagic and power and hierarchy. Asked if you were happy with the status quo?”

“No.”Sally’s voice cracks and her stern façade falters.

“C’mon,Sal,” Az ghosts her hand across Sally’s cheek. She keeps up the light, cajolingtone. “You were flattered by the attention. Maybe let slip a little more thanyou should have about your frustration with being beholden to Mages hundreds ofmiles away. Gave him info on your coven. Invited him to one of your teas. Gavehim your phone number.”

Sally’sgoing to break soon. I can see it in the way her eyes refuse to fix on any oneobject for more than a few seconds. She’s shaking so hard it’s a wonder herteeth aren’t chattering. Lying bitch. I’d like to shake each tooth out of herarrogant skull.

“Didhe show you a few flashy tricks, Sally, to prove that he has power? What wasit? The Writ of Sangal? Pretty but useless. How about Erthaine’s Bewitching? Did heconjure an aphrodisiac for you? What about the Rite of Quta? That’s always acharmer. Hard to resist, I’m told.”

Sallyjerks as if shot. “The Rite of Quta is forbidden.”

Andit’s obvious that’s the one Olivet used to impress Sally Caplinger. Az’s smuggrin is so wide it nearly cracks her face. God, that nose has to hurt. I’m not thrilled with Az jumping in to take on Sally,but I can’t argue with her results. My way would have done wonders for my bloodpressure but would have only caused Sally to clam up and prompted Greer to escorther out of claw range.

Ispeak up before Az can continue her interrogation. This tag-team thing isgrowing on me. It’s easier to play bad cop when you have a good cop you cantrust. “What happened, Sally? He didn’t call, did he? How many days did you sitby the phone and wait?”

“Hecame to tea!” she protests.

Bingo. “And were Claire, Krista and Jessica atthis tea?”

“Yes.”Sally’s indignation crumbles. Her lips tremble and tears shine in her eyes. “Heused me.”

“Betterused than burned up like a car battery,” Az muses quietly. Sally gives noindication that she hears Az. That’s probably for the best.

Greerawkwardly pats Sally’s shoulder. “Do you think you could talk to the otherMatrons and see if they’ve also met Mr. Olivet?”

Sallynods. She takes two tissues from the box Az snatched off the desk. Shedelicately dabs at her eyes. “It’s my fault that Claire is dead and my othergirls are missing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,”Az says, much to my surprise. Her entire demeanor is cold. I’d expected herusual compassion. “You knew the Rite of Quta was forbidden, but you let awarlock who used it – in front of someone he’d just met – into the sanctity ofyour coven. You missed the big ol’ warning flag, Sally. Remember that.”

Maybenot such a surprise after all. As much as she dislikes witches and warlocks andMages, she has a healthy respect for magic. A fondness for the thing that hasmade her an outcast in her family and community.

Sallynods again. She digs through her purse and extracts a balled-up adhesive note. Fingerstrembling, she hands it to Az. “He gave this to me. You may be able to read themagic on it and try to replace him.”

“Thankyou.” Az stands. I am only a step behind her. She slips the note into the frontpocket of my jeans. “I can’t guarantee the condition they’ll be in, but we’llreplace your witches.”

What?I don’t like making promises I can’t keep. What does Princess think she’s doingby raising Sally’s hopes?

“Wewill try,” I correct, nudging Az in the ribs. “In the meantime, Sally, anyinformation you run across comes straight to me. Without delay. Are we clear?”

Greerstarts to object, but everyone ignores him. He huffs but doesn’t leave thestudy. Maybe he finally realizes he’s in over his head.

Ipush Az behind me and stand in front of Sally. The witch tries to stand, but Ipress my legs against her knees so that she has to stay seated. She bows herhead in an act of submission. At least someone around here recognizes that I’mstill Alpha.

“Onemore thing, Ms. Caplinger,” I say, my tone dropping the temperature in the roomby several degrees. “I let you off with a warning for the wolfsbane.”

Hereyes dart to Greer before returning to me. She licks her lips and opens hermouth to speak but just nods instead. Good. Anything she says is likely tobreak the tenuous control I have over my temper.

“Youfailed to control a member of your coven while I was a guest in your home. Amember of your coven attacked amember of my pack. And now you havethe audacity to lie to me while under my roof? After asking me to search foryour missing witches?” I plant a hand on the back of the couch on either sideof her head. I lean in so close I can see the blue veins underneath her thin, wrinkledskin. “We don’t hunt witches. Mostly because you taste like shit, but partlybecause of our peace agreement. An agreement I now consider void. Once we replaceyour witches, I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”

Noone argues. No one protests. Sweet, blessed silence. Now this is how it should be when an Alpha speaks.

Ifollow behind as Greer ushers Sally off my property. Az skips alongside me andgaily waves them off like a happy hostess seeing off dinner guests. Once theirtaillights have disappeared, I place a finger under her chin to tilt her headback. Her nose is swollen but hasn’t bled as much as expected.

“Areyou having a hard time breathing?”

“Onlywhen you’re close,” she teases.

“Seriously,Az. I need to know if you need a hospital.”

Sheshrugs. “I can breathe.” Her gaze drops to her toes. “It still hurts. A lot.”

Ifigured. “Looks like it’s broken, but it’s not serious. No surgery required. Ican straighten it in the house. We’ll get you an ice pack and a few Tylenol.” Irelease her chin and cup the back of her head. Her hair feels like silk, but Ican’t allow myself to concentrate on that right now. I gently run my fingersacross her scalp. There’s a lump on the left side that causes her to wince.

“Seeingspots?” I ask. “Any ringing in your ears? Dizziness?”

“Yes,but I discharged the magic I got from Sally into the wards. Everything’s alittle floaty, but it’s getting better.”

Possibleconcussion, though it’s hard to tell because of the magic ingestion. Great. Iwas going to Shift with the others so that my side heals fully, but someoneneeds to keep an eye on her. “You’ll tell me if it gets worse, right?”

“Ofcourse,” she says brightly.

Idon’t believe her. Not even a little.

Herfingers invade my front pocket. Her warm, not-at-all-shy, distracting fingersthat linger far longer than necessary to retrieve a slip of paper. While theblood slowly returns to my brain, she scans the paper Sally gave us. Her smilebroadens. “Oh, this is going to be very helpful.”

Itry to snatch it out of her hands, but she dances out of reach. I take onestep. She laughs and dashes to the porch. Ignoring Greta’s snicker, I stalk mygiggling void – visions of handcuffs dancing in my head - until she’s corneredbetween the desk and the wall in the study. Her cell phone is out and pressedagainst her ear.

“Whatwas on the paper, Az?”

“Olivet’sphone number.” She extends a hand to draw me forward. “It’s ringing.”