Reg got up and looked out the window. The crow was back.
“We need help,” Reg told the bird again, frustrated. “Can’t you bring help? We need—”
She heard screeching tires. Help had arrived.
⋆ Chapter Thirty ⋆
Sarah’s van sped into sight. It was a good thing that there weren’t any guards watching the warehouse, because the witch’s approach wasn’t exactly covert. She raced into the parking lot of the next property over and slammed on the brakes, screeching to a stop. Corvin and Warren got up to look out the window. Jessup struggled to get her feet under her.
Reg ducked down to the open window. She pressed her hand to the screen.
“Sarah!”
Sarah hurried toward her. “I’m here, I’m here! I’m sorry, it’s been such a crazy day…”
“Thank goodness. We need help. I didn’t know what to do…”
“I got your message,” Sarah said, face wreathed in smiles. She brandished a set of bolt cutters. “I think you were looking for this?”
“Regina, you are a miracle,” Corvin breathed reverently.
Sarah used the bolt cutters to bite through the screen, cutting through it like butter. Reg took them, grinning. She went to the side of the window where the padlock was and surveyed it.
“You’re taller than me,” she said to Corvin. “You want to do the honors?”
“Are you sure?”
“Have at it.”
He took the bolt cutters from her, positioned the blades around the shaft of the lock, and snapped the handles together. Despite Reg’s worries that the metal of the lock might have been magically strengthened to resist such an attempt, he had no trouble cutting through it. He reached up and lifted the lock out of the loop. Reg swung the bars on the hinge. It creaked loudly in protest. She and Corvin ducked underneath it and faced the large panes of glass. It wouldn’t be much longer, and they would be out. Reg looked around for something to break the glass.
“Sarah, is there a rock or something out there that we could use…”
“Just a moment. I’ve got just the thing.”
Sarah went back to the van and opened the back door. She returned with a sledgehammer.
“I thought this might come in handy. Do you think it would do?”
“I think it will do!” Reg agreed.
Sarah passed it through the lower window. Reg lifted the sledgehammer higher. It was heavy and sent lightning bolts of pain through her injured hand. But she gripped it tightly, getting ready to hit one out of the park.
“Better move out of the way.”
Sarah withdrew a few steps back and to the side. Reg swung the hammer.
She had been tentative, worried that she would hit some spell or force-field and the sledgehammer would just bounce back harmlessly. But it smashed through the glass with a crash, sending shards of glass scattering.
“We’re clear!” Corvin announced, a wide grin on his face. “Let’s get out of here!”
They cleared as much glass as they could from the edge and helped Jessup to her feet. Getting up and over the windowsill was not easy, especially for Jessup in her weakened state. Corvin and Warren worked together to get Ling up and over it as well, then laid her on the pavement outside in a patch of shade.
Reg heard cawing and looked up. The bird was above them somewhere, out of sight.
“Thank you,” she told it fervently, both aloud and in her mind.
Sarah smiled. “They are very intelligent animals,” she informed Reg. “Birds in the crow family are second only to humans in their intelligence.” She paused, thinking about it. “Though some birds I know would surpass humans, if you knew what they were thinking.”
“We owe our rescue to my namesake,” Corvin said. He was the last one to climb through the broken window to freedom.
Reg frowned at him.
“Corvin means raven,” he clarified further. “The crow family is called corvid.”
“Oh… who knew.”
“Maybe that’s why Sarah likes me so much.” Corvin said with a sly look toward the older woman.
Reg laughed, feeling a bit giddy after their escape.
Sitting on the pavement and leaning against the wall for support, Jessup was patting at her uniform pockets and waist, then finally seemed to realize she didn’t have what she was looking for. She looked at Sarah.
“Do you have a phone? Please tell me you’re not one of the witches who eschews technology.”
Sarah dug into her pocket. “Of course not! I don’t know what I would do without my phone!”
They were quiet while Jessup made a call for police backup and ambulances. She hung up.
“Don’t tell them you sent a bird to find Sarah,” Jessup told Reg, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “Just say… Sarah knew you were coming here.”
Reg and Sarah both nodded.
“Did you happen to go by the cottage…?” Corvin asked Sarah.
“Your prisoners are still there,” Sarah acknowledged. “I strengthened the bonds a little before coming. Didn’t want them following me here.”
“Smart old crone,” Corvin approved.
“I’ll send someone to pick them up,” Jessup said. “But you’d better make sure they’re physically restrained first. No point in making the police department wonder why they’re just sitting there waiting to be arrested.”
Corvin chuckled. His eyes were drawn back to the warehouse. “We’ll also have to counter the snares here before the police go in.”
“I’ll tell them we need the bomb squad. It always takes them hours to breach a building. Should be plenty of time for all of us to clear the worst of the snares, if we’re working together.”
“And what would my payment be for helping out?”
Jessup rolled her eyes. “Hunter, you are the most self-centered warlock—”
“—you’ve ever had the privilege of meeting,” Corvin finished for her. “So? What do we get? You said something about a warehouse full of rare objects…”
“What exactly were they smuggling?” Warren asked. “I thought it must be drugs.”
In spite of all he had seen, he obviously still didn’t grasp that he really was dealing with paranormal activities. It was amazing how blind a person could choose to be to what he had seen with his own eyes. Reg looked at the others, trying to determine how much it was acceptable to tell Warren. Jessup gave her a warning look. Reg understood they were sanitizing things for the police and it was best to let Warren stay ignorant of the details.
“They were poachers,” she told him, “smuggling animal trophies to other countries. Maybe other artifacts as well.”
Warren nodded, understanding. “The more endangered an animal is, the more valuable it is to someone. It’s really sickening what people will do for profit.”
“So…?” Corvin crouched down close to Jessup. “You could afford to let a few items slide in my direction, couldn’t you?”
She closed her eyes tiredly. “You help me, Hunter, and we’ll see.”
He laid his hand on her arm and held it there, watching her face. Jessup’s wan face started to pink up. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Their faces were so close together Corvin would have only have to move a fraction of an inch to kiss her.
“Dial it back, Hunter.” Jessup’s voice was strained.
Reg waited, holding her breath. Corvin leaned back. He kept his hand on Jessup. Another minute or two passed, then Jessup pulled back from Corvin. She rubbed her eyes as if she’d just woken up, and rose unsteadily to her feet. They could hear approaching sirens.
“I’ll see what I can do for you,” she promised.
Jessup walked over to meet the emergency vehicles.
“Why do you want any of what they’ve got in there?” Reg asked Corvin, thinking of the cloud of unhappiness around the objects. “Are they that valuable?”
He stood close to her, keeping his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Some objects carry latent
magical power. That’s what makes them so valuable for potions and charms. I’d much rather get my power from the living,” he met her eyes, “but I will take whatever I can get.”
Just looking at him, she felt a portion of that gnawing hunger. Just as a starving person would eat whatever rotting scraps were thrown his way, Corvin would do what he had to for survival.
“Is that why you came? Because you knew what they were storing here?”
He frowned. “I came because of you.”
Reg felt herself blush. “Why? I thought you were only interested in me because you wanted my gifts?”
“And having tasted them once, I’m even more enticed.” He gave her a long, languid look. “I’ve never returned a gift before. It has left us… bonded.”
“What do you mean?”
“We had an agreement… that you would give me your powers.” He raised a finger to silence any arguments. “When you gave them to me—”
“When you took them.”
“When I took them, our… transaction… was complete. Both sides had fulfilled their covenants.” Reg saw the problem before Corvin concluded. “When I gave them back without recompense, that put us on a different footing.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means… you owe me something. And that I am duty-bound to protect you, since that is why I returned them to you.”
⋆ Chapter Thirty-One ⋆
It was some time before they were finished talking to the police and were given permission to head home. Ling and Warren had gone to the hospital, with Jessup drinking copious amounts of water and promising to check in with her doctor later.
Corvin nodded to Reg’s hand. “You want me to drive? That looks pretty painful.”
Reg had been doing her best to keep the bloody bandage out of sight so that she wouldn’t be sent to the hospital as well. She opened and closed her hand experimentally, wincing.
“It’s not that bad. I don’t think it needs stitches and there’s no damage to tendons or anything.”
“Merely a flesh wound?”
Reg forced herself to smile back at him. “Yeah. I’ll just keep it clean and make sure it’s healing okay.”
She handed him her keys. There was no reason she had to be the one to drive home. And he was right, it would be painful to hold the steering wheel. Reg sighed as she settled into the passenger seat.
“So we did good. We got some really bad guys off the street.”
Corvin shrugged. “For a while. Prison isn’t much of a deterrent. In a few years, they’ll be back at it again. If they don’t just continue to run things from inside.”
“What would you do, then? If it were up to you? What would deter them?”
“Perhaps remove the ridiculous stigma attached to trafficking in magical artifacts. Removing the strictures on killing an animal just because it has become rare. Such restrictions just make it more profitable to deal in them.”
“So legalization is your answer?”
“There are far too many restrictions placed on our freedom. How does it hurt you if I make use of the gall bladder of a black bear? Or the bones of a tiger? I wouldn’t do such a thing frivolously. So why restrict me?”
“Because those animals will die out.”
Corvin shook his head. “If it were legal, they could be farmed. We could have thousands of medicine animals available instead of only a handful. There would be no need for this violence.”
Reg shook her head. She had to remind herself that his perspective was necessarily different from hers. She could afford to think of the cute furry animals and the need to protect them. Corvin needed objects of power for his survival and couldn’t be worried about the consequences of his predation.
“Do you retain all of the gifts you take?” she asked. “Do you just keep getting more and more powerful? Or do they only last for a while?”
He shifted and pushed the gas pedal down. “How long it lasts depends on the carrier. Some are fleeting. Others have stayed with me for many years. If I was in a situation where I could feast whenever I wanted to…”
A smile played over his lips. Reg shuddered to think about how powerful he could become. Maybe the old tales of powerful kings, wizards, and sorcerers had been about people like him, warlocks who had been able to feed as much as they wanted on the populace, growing in power daily.
“But all warlocks aren’t like you. They don’t all… do what you do.”
“No. The curse—or gift—is rare. Tends to run in families, but most of the old lines carrying it have died out… or been exterminated. Those who are left must submit to regulation or be driven from paranormal communities. Either choice leaves us hungry most of the time. It’s a wretched way to live one’s life.”
“I’m sorry.”
He glanced over at her, smiling that charming, predatory smile. “How sorry?”
“Not that sorry.”
He chuckled. “Too bad. I like you, Regina.”
Usually, the men who said that to her didn’t actually want to consume her. She looked away and focused on the scenery outside, not wanting to be tempted by his mystical charms.
“Norma Jean wants to talk to you,” Corvin said.
Reg already knew that. She could feel Norma Jean stirring around the edges of her consciousness, trying to get her attention.
“How do you know that?”
“I…”
“If you gave me back all of my powers, how do you know Norma Jean is trying to reach me?”
“Apparently, there are still some residual powers… like the drops left at the bottom of the milk jug…”
“Or maybe you kept back a swallow or two for yourself,” she suggested.
“Norma Jean is your mother. You don’t want to talk to her?”
Reg thought about Amy Calvert’s reading with her mother. Not every mother was the soft, sweet woman of Hallmark commercials. Reg’s mother had been out of her life for a long time, and for good reason. Reg couldn’t help it if Norma Jean’s spirit still hung around. It didn’t mean Reg had to talk to her.
“No. I don’t want to talk to her. Besides, aren’t there rules about channeling while driving?”
He smiled at her. “I can’t make you listen to what she has to say. But mark my words, Reg Rawlins… your adventures here aren’t over. Not by a long shot.”
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Preview of A Psychic with Catitude
How are you doing?” the dark, handsome warlock asked in a husky voice, touching the spot on Reg’s hand where Hawthorne-Rose had cut her, sending goosebumps all the way up her arms and down her back.
She tried not to let him see her reaction, smiling with unconcern and inching away from his touch and the heady scent of roses that grew stronger whenever he turned on the charm.
Reg ran her hands through her red cornrow braids to gather them together and pushed them back over her shoulders.
“I’m fine,” she said airily. “Looking forward to catching up on my sleep now that Warren is all taken care of and won’t be disturbing my dreams. How about you? You look…” Reg searched for a word. He wasn’t glowing quite as much as he had when he’d stolen her psychic powers, but he was definitely looking… well-fed. “Uh… you look relaxed.”
What the Cat Knew Page 22