Samantha tugged a phone from one of her multitude of pockets, stepping forward to offer it to Opal. “You’ve got an email, right? Plug it in here for me. Then you can send me a list of any supplies you’re missing.”
Opal blinked, then took the phone. “I already gave Christopher a list.”
“Then put some extras on the list you send me. I’d like to feel like less of an asshole.”
Opal’s gaze flicked to me for a moment, then settled on Samantha steadily. “You’re like … Emma’s sister … right?”
“Yes,” I said. “We are forever bound. Christopher, Samantha, Daniel, and Bee.”
Opal’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “So when Emma adopts me, you’ll be my aunt.”
Samantha chuckled. “Let’s just assume the paperwork has already gone through. I’m going to be a hell of an aunt. Now shove over. I need a nap, and your bed looks perfect.”
I laughed quietly.
The telekinetic crawled onto the bed, pausing to shuck off her knee-high boots only after she was supine.
Grinning, Opal typed her email address into Samantha’s phone, then placed it on the side table. She jumped off the bed, landing on both feet, still holding the quilt. “Can I take this to the Academy with me?”
“Yes.”
She folded it neatly, tucking it in her suitcase. She reached to zip the suitcase, but I stopped her.
“I’ll finish it up for you. Go help Ember and Capri, then we’ll see you off.”
She nodded, stepping past me. “Come on, Paisley. Let’s go see what the witches are up to.”
I let her go, curling my fingers into my palms so I didn’t reach for her. Paisley slid by me, making sure to bump my thigh with her shoulder as she followed the young witch.
Samantha’s gaze rested heavily on me as we listened to Opal traverse the steps. She was stomping again. I took that as a good sign.
“If you communicated more,” Samantha said peevishly, “I would have known not to come.”
I laughed dryly. “Didn’t take you long to make this all my fault.”
“I’m just saying … I would never have put the kid in jeopardy.”
I crossed to Opal’s suitcase, tugging a bundle of cash out of my pocket and looking for a zippered pocket to tuck it in. I’d grabbed the cash out of the small safe installed in the linen closet in the hall. It came from the money Daniel had left, but I didn’t mind dipping into it for Opal.
“Emma …”
“What?”
“That’s like ten thousand dollars. That’s too much for a kid.”
I glanced down at the bundle of bills in my hand, murmuring, “A teenager.”
“Fine, a teenager. That’s still too much. Even a thousand in cash would be ridiculous. You don’t need her standing out more than she already will.”
I narrowed my eyes doubtfully.
Samantha snorted. “Please. She’s a black orphan who went missing for three weeks. A witch with an early specialization, dream walking. They’re thinking of advancing her, right? And now she’s got fistfuls of cash? Doesn’t the Academy cover tuition as well as room and board?”
“What do you know about it?” I grumbled, peeling bills from the stash. Then I tucked five hundred dollars in the mesh bag with Opal’s toothbrush.
“I interrogated Christopher about the baby witch. Plus, and I know you’ve probably missed it … I’m black. Black orphans can’t go around flashing cash.”
I frowned. “You think she’ll be … bullied?”
She snorted. “I think she’ll be ostracized. And magic, when wielded by witches, is a collective experience. She doesn’t have to be friends with them, but they’ve got to accept her.”
“I know that,” I said. But in truth, I hadn’t given any of this any thought. I’d been running on pure instinct, pure emotion. “You think … do you think I’m bad for her, then?”
“No,” Samantha said. “I think you have a perfect home for her. I think she’ll fulfill her potential here. Imagine the fee she’ll be able to charge, for the dream walking alone. And I’ll make an effort … you know, email the kid. Visit in the summer. It’s nice here in the summer, isn’t it? Less snow, right?”
I huffed out an involuntary laugh. “Because you’ll be such a good influence.”
“ ‘Good’ has a wide variety of interpretations.”
“It really doesn’t.” I zipped up Opal’s suitcase, pulling it from the bed. “How long do you want to sleep?”
“As long as you can give me,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’ve said my goodbyes. Then we need to have it out with Knox.”
I didn’t want to do anything of the sort. “He’s out of it. The black witches are hurt. I can take the mystic.”
“Maybe,” Samantha muttered. “But we can’t lose you, Socks. So I’ll straighten out Knox, with or without you. You hold grudges too long.”
I didn’t hold grudges. I made decisions. But not interested in prolonging the conversation, I left the room, carrying Opal’s suitcase with me.
“I’ve decided we’ll go to Vancouver,” Ember said.
I looked up from making sandwiches as the witch lawyer hustled into the kitchen from the laundry room. She was carrying her shoes. “Capri booked seats on a floatplane. Thirty minutes and we’re in Godfrey territory. The Mystic of the Golden Peninsula …” — that title was uttered with as much sarcasm as I’d ever heard from the witch lawyer before — “… will never follow us there.” She grinned, a little manically. “The entire city is warded.”
The entire city? “Excuse me?”
Ember laughed. “I told you when you bought the property here. No one messes with the Godfreys these days.”
That was mind-boggling. I couldn’t imagine even an entire coven having enough power to place a boundary ward around a city as large as Vancouver. “That must have taken decades …”
Ember snorted. “You’d think, hey?”
So that was a no.
“We’ll book a flight to Seattle from Vancouver. If we have time, we’ll meet Pearl Godfrey at the bakery. Capri has never been, and Opal will enjoy picking out cupcakes.”
“The bakery …” I echoed. “The Godfrey coven operates a bakery?”
Ember sighed. “You were going to have to meet them someday, Emma. Sooner now, because the Godfreys currently hold two of the seats on the Convocation.”
The witches Convocation was going to have to approve my guardianship of Opal. My stomach twisted. I’d seen how carefully Capri had been watching me. If Opal’s foster mother had any sway with the Convocation, I was never going to see the young witch again.
The exterior door banged open, then Opal tumbled from the laundry room into the kitchen, crossing around the lawyer and grinning madly. “We made charms.”
From behind the young witch, Paisley made a beeline for the island. Then, using a stool to prop herself up, she eyed the sandwiches I’d piled on a large plate. Critically. I didn’t cook. But peanut butter, homemade strawberry jam, and slices of whole-wheat sourdough fell into the ‘uncooked’ category perfectly well.
“We fumbled the first two,” Ember said ruefully, side-eyeing the demon dog slightly warily. “But we managed three. If they work. Opal will take one, leaving two for you. Plus the tracking spell.”
Capri had stepped into the kitchen after Paisley, hovering by the laundry room door. She was carrying two coats and two sets of boots, hers and Opal’s.
“No,” I said, slicing the crust from one of the sandwiches and putting it on a small plate. “You’ll take all three. One for each of you.”
“I think that is ill advised,” Ember said.
“The twins are drained,” I said. “The easiest way for the mystic to gain the upper hand right now is to obtain leverage. Hostages.”
I slid the plate across from an empty stool, setting it beside the glass of milk I’d already poured as I nodded toward Opal. She climbed on the stool obligingly.
“I see,” Ember murmured.
The blond witch nodded, slowly stepping up to the island. “The sorcerer and Jenni are discussing the route they want to take. But the floatplane means the sorcerer can get back here quicker. As soon as the plane takes off.”
I nodded, setting the final sliced sandwiches on the large platter, then shifting the smaller side plates and napkins I’d set out earlier toward the witches. “In case you’re hungry after casting.”
Capri took Ember’s shoes and coat from her, awkwardly carrying three sets of shoes and outerwear now. “I’ll put these by the front door and let Aiden and Jenni know there are sandwiches.”
That was surprisingly polite. “Thank you.”
Ember settled down on the stool next to Opal, reaching to take a napkin and plate.
Paisley grumbled, then paced around the island to sit beside me. She grumbled some more, until I obligingly made eye contact with her. Then she dropped her jaw open in a toothy smile.
“She wants meat,” Opal said helpfully, speaking to Ember.
“Completely understandable for a canine,” the lawyer said, nibbling on a sandwich.
“The jam is yummy though,” Opal said brightly. “Christopher made it.”
“Mmm,” Ember said. “It is.” Then the lawyer grinned at me.
I wasn’t too certain what the smile meant, but I returned it. That was only polite.
Capri stepped back into the kitchen, taking the stool beside Ember and quietly serving herself.
Aiden strode in, with Jenni on his heels. The shifter was in uniform. They both made a beeline for the food.
“All set?” I asked.
Aiden nodded, biting through half of a halved sandwich. “Runes etched on all the vehicles. I think the witches are smart to head into Vancouver.” He crossed around to lean on the counter next to me, brushing a light kiss to my cheekbone.
Jenni grabbed a napkin and a sandwich. “Sky is clear, so the floatplanes are flying on time. It’ll be a gorgeous flight.”
Paisley shifted so she could stare intently at Aiden. He shook his head at her. “You have plenty of food in your fridge.”
She grumbled.
Opal giggled, hand pressed over her mouth, chewing.
And I just stood there, savoring the moment. My gaze on the young witch, shoulder pressed to Aiden’s. Ignoring Capri, who was watching me.
“Where’s Christopher?” Jenni asked.
I stepped forward, cutting the crust from another sandwich.
“Emma is mad at him,” Opal said matter-of-factly. “So he’s in a time-out, in the barn.” She looked at me. “I checked on him. The chicks are pretty cute. I took a couple of pictures with my new phone.”
“Do you want me to wrap this?” I asked her. “I put a water bottle and some ginger snaps in your backpack. There’s some change in the inner pocket. The floatplane terminal will have vending machines.”
Opal smacked her lips thoughtfully. “Half now, half later.”
I passed her half of the decrusted sandwich, then cut the crust from two more halves.
“You’re mad at Christopher?” Jenni asked, quietly doubtful. “Something happened?”
“He made a choice,” I said stiffly. “Paisley got hurt.”
“Emma got hurt,” Aiden murmured behind me.
I ignored him as I opened cupboards, looking for a small Tupperware container for Opal’s sandwich.
“We should be going,” Jenni said, grabbing another sandwich half. “You want to be about thirty minutes early, and the roads are still a little slick.”
Ember and Capri obligingly pushed back their stools. Aiden collected their plates as Opal downed her milk.
As the shapeshifter and the witches crossed into the hall and toward the front door, Opal snuck Paisley a sandwich. The demon dog twined a tentacle around the young witch’s wrist and tugged her closer. Opal wrapped her arms around Paisley’s neck, then kissed her jowly cheek. Paisley huffed happily.
Aiden exited the kitchen toward the front door, his expression tight.
I looked away, crossing to the backpack I’d left hanging on a kitchen chair. My chest felt like a frozen lump of lead. I reminded myself that I was doing the right thing — the right thing for Opal — as I shoved the sandwich in its container into the pack, then zipped it closed.
I stepped back, reaching my hand toward Opal. She took it. Then I led her down the hall, guiding her out of my life. And not knowing if I’d ever see her again.
Christopher had been waiting to say goodbye to Opal on the front patio. I stood on the steps. He leaned back next to the door as the witches got the charms pinned on and the car loaded. Opal watched us from the back seat.
Jenni, driving her RCMP SUV, pulled down the driveway first. The witches followed in their rental car, wet gravel churning beneath the tires. Paisley paced alongside them.
Aiden in his SUV glanced back at me, nodding.
I nodded back. The trip to the floatplane terminal and seeing the witches off shouldn’t take him more than an hour and a half.
Opal turned around in her seat, pressing her hands against the back window.
I smiled as brightly as I could, though I felt like raging. I raised my hand, waving and smiling like an idiot, because I understood that was what the young witch needed to see. That was who she needed me to be.
The three cars drove through the front gate, picking up speed as they turned onto the main road. Paisley watched them until they were out of sight. Then she shoved her shoulder into the gate, closing it. I assumed Christopher must have fixed it, because Aiden wouldn’t have had the time.
I turned back to the house.
Christopher was watching me. “Am I still banished?” he asked.
The question was edged with anger and full of implications — specifically, that I was the one in the wrong. It wasn’t worth my time to answer it.
I had witches and a mystic to hunt.
Ignoring the clairvoyant, I stepped back into the house to clothe and arm myself.
“Emma,” he snarled after me, “you aren’t going to find them on your own.”
Leaving Samantha to sleep and Christopher to mope somewhere in the barn, Paisley and I triggered the tracking spell. The witches had housed Chenda’s hair sample and whatever else they needed to conjure their magic in a small pillbox decorated with a picture of piglets riding on the back of a pig. A sow, to be specific.
I placed the spelled pillbox in the palm of my left hand, feeling it tug me forward to the mouth of the driveway, then lightly to the left. West, toward Youbou.
Avoiding the deep, slushy snow that edged the salted pavement, the demon dog and I followed the spell’s directions on foot at a steady pace. Not running. The roads were quiet, but the occasional vehicle still slowed and gave us a wide berth. Doing anything resembling running would look out of place, especially in my pink raincoat and lined boots.
About a kilometer later, we found where the mystic and the black witches must have parked their vehicle. If the tire tracks in the snow weren’t enough of a clue, the fact that a large area had been scorched with magic so intensely that even I could feel it was a dead giveaway.
So Aiden’s assertion that they’d teleported from the property had been correct. Black magic fueled by the twins’ life force, judging by how they’d been cutting themselves.
A risky spell.
I hoped the mystic compensated her bodyguards generously. She was going to get them killed.
Paisley began systematically scenting the area, following the tire tracks slicing through the wet snow to and from the spot where the vehicle had been parked.
But it wasn’t the residual magic that had drawn the tracking spell. A brown mouse had been nailed through the chest to the nearest fence post. A wide field spread from the road edge to the river, used to grow some sort of grain crop. The day was warm enough that the blood on the wooden post hadn’t frozen. By the drip patt
ern, the mouse had been skewered alive.
As expected when dealing with black witches.
My stomach roiled at the conclusion. I hissed involuntarily. Paisley grumbled in agreement. Ember had been right about warding our chickens. Apparently, the twins could call small animals to them. To sacrifice.
A single long strand of pale blond hair had been wrapped around the mouse’s neck.
A decoy for the tracking spell.
Shit.
The twins weren’t as drained as I’d thought. Casting this decoy — likely only moments after arriving at the vehicle, right after a last-ditch teleportation spell, right after being drained by me. I wouldn’t have thought it possible.
I was wrong.
I hated being wrong.
And I loathed facing off against black-magic users. Their bloodletting usually spilled all over me, and I had a difficult time scrubbing myself clean.
I yanked out the silver-plated nail pinning the mouse to the post. Magic snapped under my fingers, and the nail came easily enough, releasing the mouse’s body. The fuzzy corpse fell to the ground.
I crouched, looking around for a stick or something to dig with. But Paisley lumbered over and dug out a shallow grave in the frozen ground without me even asking.
We buried the mouse, using the earth to smother the witches’ black magic. Then I eyed the silver-plated nail. The mouse was of the earth. All creatures decomposed after death. But making certain the black magic contained in the nail was nullified was a different problem —
Paisley swiped the nail from me with a flick of her currently forked blue tongue, swallowing it.
“Well, that’s one way to neutralize it,” I said, straightening up. “But one day, something you eat is going to come back and bite you in the ass.”
Paisley chuckled darkly.
I stepped back to the road, holding the spelled pillbox in my palm. It tugged me in the direction of town, back the other way.
I started walking. Paisley kept to the edge of the road, occasionally flicking a single tentacle around her as if sensing for magic. She never did so when anyone was around to see, so I didn’t chide her.
A dead junco was waiting for us, pinned to the far side of the wooden outdoor stage in the riverside park. Another long blond hair was twined around the songbird’s neck. Its blood was a shade darker than the peeling red paint.
Mystics and Mental Blocks (Amplifier 3) Page 17