No Rest for the Wicca

by Toni LoTempio

  “I think any witch living in this general vicinity is in jeopardy until this madman is caught, yes, but it’s not the reason your cousin is here.” He rose from the chair and took a step toward me. I stared defiantly into his black onyx eyes.

  “Why else would you take her?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t take her, as you so charmingly put it. I rang her up and asked her to come down here.”

  My jaw dropped. “You did what?”

  He lifted those magnificent shoulders in a casual shrug. “You told her you were assigned to Special Forces, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but how—“ I caught the glint in his eye and muttered, “Oh, never mind.”

  “Well, I rang her up today, introduced myself, and told her we desperately needed her help. Once I mentioned her cooperation might aid us in capturing Darla’s killer and the person who attacked her, she was more than willing to cooperate.” He paused. “And, no, I did not read your mind. I merely made an assumption you’d told her. After all, she had to know you were going to college instead of work.”

  Temper, sure and swift, flared up. “I’d like to see my cousin now. Where are you holding her?”

  He snorted. “We’re not ‘holding her’ as you put it, Morgan. Xia came here of her own free will. As a matter of fact, she’s just down the hall, in Conference Room One. Waiting for you, same as me.”

  I turned on my heel and slammed out of his office, turned and walked purposefully down the corridor to a large door with a placard reading, “Conference Room One”. I grabbed the knob and jerked the door open.

  Xia sat, wearing the same tunic and sweats she’d had on when I’d left for school, at a massive table carved of red oak. A deck of tarot cards lay half-spread out before her. She glanced up, saw me, and her face split in a smile.

  “At last! Cole thought you’d be late.”

  I stopped, mid-stride, and glared at her. “Cole? You two are on a first name basis?”

  Xia’s laugh trilled out. “Honestly, Morgan, you never told me what an absolute hunk he is! And so charming! I can see how you were persuaded to take this special assignment.”

  “His good looks had nothing to do with it,” I bit out. “I told you, I took it because of what almost happened to you. Speaking of which, why didn’t you leave me a note? I panicked when you weren’t at home.”

  Xia’s light blonde brows drew together. “But I did leave you a note—right on the kitchen table, under a jar of Earl Grey. Didn’t you see it?”

  I flushed. “I—ah—never made it into the kitchen. I was running late to come here, and when I realized the house was deserted—“

  “Your cousin really cares about you, Xia.” Cole stood framed in the doorway. I turned and glared at him, a gesture which elicited no reaction whatsoever. “She was so certain you’d been abducted she dropped everything and raced right down here to put all the blame on me.”

  “Morgan.” Xia flashed me an accusing stare. “That’s not nice.”

  “Oh, nice be damned. He could have told me he intended to bring you down here.” I looked from one to the other. “Just why are you here, Xia? Did Cole want a tarot reading? Does he want to see if catching the killer is in our future?”

  “To be frank, you’re not too far off the mark,” my cousin smiled. She glanced over at Cole. “Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”

  Cole moved next to me. “I’ll do it, seeing as it’s me her wrath’s directed at.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. “I brought Xia down here because of her advanced psychic abilities.”

  One eyebrow arched up. “Did you now?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve informed me her psyche is highly advanced, have you not? I thought perhaps she could get a bead on our killer’s next victim for us. And she agreed to try.”

  The muscle above my left eye started to twitch, something that happens when I get supremely annoyed. “This is what you remember? That I told you her visions were amazingly accurate?”

  He spread his hands. “What can I say? I have a gift for remembering minute details.”

  I opened my mouth, shut it, opened it again. Xia rose from behind the table and hurried over to grab my arm.

  “Please, Morgan. I don’t mind, really I don’t. If it will help you—and help expose Darla’s killer—I’m willing to try.” She cut her gaze to Cole. “As I told Special Agent St. John, I can’t promise anything.”

  Cole reached out, took Xia’s hand and patted it. “We understand. We appreciate any help you’re willing to give.” He scraped back a chair, motioned for Xia to sit. “And it’s Cole, by the way.”

  Xia colored, reached for the tarot deck. Cole took a seat opposite Xia, stretched his long legs out in front of him. I noted he didn’t ask me to sit, or pull out a chair for me. I glared at both of them, selected a chair as far away from both as possible, and plopped myself into it.

  Cole flicked me a glance. “Are you going to be able to see from way over there?”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “I can see just fine.” I turned my attention to Xia. “Xia, just what do you intend to do?”

  Xia sat shuffling the deck. I recognized it as a Rider-Waite, her favorite well-worn one. Xia was always collecting tarot cards—she loved them almost as much as Bobbleheads—and she had to have at least a hundred different decks, some of them one of a kind, purchased from friends who traveled Europe extensively. But when push came to shove, and she had to do an especially important reading—she broke out the good old Rider-Waite.

  “I’m going to see if the stars will try and help us—give us a bead on who the killer has selected as his next victim,” she said. She shuffled the deck, lay it in front of Cole. “Would you split it into three piles, please? With your left hand, not your right.”

  He reached out, divided the deck into three even piles.

  “Good. Now place them one on top of each other, not in any particular order.”

  Cole did as directed without even so much as a cursory glance my way. Bastard.

  “Okay. Now, we’ll begin.”

  Xia started to lay out the cards. I recognized the spread—the most popular of all tarot, the Celtic Cross. When she’d finished, she closed her eyes, let her fingers trace over the cards. Cole and I both sat in silence, watching her. At last she opened her eyes, looked at us.

  “In case you’re not familiar, this is the Celtic Cross spread. It’s usually used to provide insight to a complex situation.” She gave a short, high laugh, the kind she did when she was incredibly nervous. “What more complex situation than trying to pinpoint a killer’s victim, right?”

  “Gee, you could say that,” I remarked. “Maybe if you can hone in on his name we can ask him over for tea.”

  Xia’s eyes fluttered over to me and she gave me what I recognized as one of her dark looks. Cole reached across the table, patted Xia’s hand.

  “Don’t mind your cousin, Xia. Apparently she gets quite irritable when she’s working a case. Possibly it’s another reason she left Homicide.”

  “No, but it might be a reason I quit this stupid assignment,” I hissed. “Of all the egomaniacal—“

  “As I said, Xia, your cousin tends to overdramatize. Pray, continue.” He gave me a look, and leaned back in the chair.

  Xia cleared her throat, didn’t even glance over at me. I slumped back in the chair.

  “Yeah, do go on.” I muttered.

  “Very well.” Xia closed her eyes again for a few moments, then opened them. “The card not shown, but at the cross’s center, represents the atmosphere surrounding the central issue.” She reached underneath the middle card, plucked out another card and held it up. “The Queen of Cups. She’s reversed. I’m getting the impression of water, deep, dark water, like a river or a lake, maybe. Our querant, or victim, is driven by the desperate fear of being alone. She’s driven to fantasies—daydreams. She’ll never see it coming.

  The card in the center is an obstacle that stands in the way. Six of Pentacles
. This represents someone driven by greed, by envy. An overconfidence leading to deception.”

  “Overconfidence,” I muttered. “Wonder who that could apply to.”

  Cole raised a finger to his lips. “Quiet. Go on, Xia.”

  She tapped the card at the top of the cross. “This represents the goal, or the best that can be achieved without a dramatic change in priorities. This card, the Seven of Swords, represents being trapped in a hopeless situation—being unable to withdraw.” She put a hand to her throat. “Oh, my. Oh, my.”

  Cole sprang from his seat. “What’s the matter, Xia?”

  I reached her first, slipped my arm around her shoulders. I could feel her quiver beneath my touch. “Easy, now,” I murmured. “You don’t have to finish.” I shot Cole a withering look. “See now, it’s just what I thought would happen. You’ve upset her.”

  He stared at me. “I? How could I?”

  “By asking her to do this—she’s tapped into something unnerving, haven’t you, Xia?”

  Cole knelt next to her. “Xia, if that’s true—tell us. Tell us what you’ve seen to upset you so.”

  Xia’s hand balled into a fist, which she shoved in her mouth. She shook her head.

  I rose, eyes blazing. “I think you’ve done enough damage for one afternoon, Cole. If this is your idea of brainstorming to catch our killer, well, I’ve gotta tell you, it’s come up all wet. I guess Commander Stone wouldn’t think so much of you now, would she?”

  He stared me down. “Did you have a better idea, short of trying to put a tail on every witch in this damned city? Do you even know how many witches there are in Central City?”

  “Sure—we’re the second highest in population, right behind regular humans, ten thousand more than vamps. The estimate also includes warlocks, though, and I don’t think the killer’s after them, but I could be wrong.”

  Xia stopped shaking, tugged at my arm. “I’m okay. It was just—just a twinge.”

  I frowned. “A twinge? I felt you shake, Xia. It was more than just a passing fancy.”

  She took a breath. “I got—I got a mental image of Darla. Darla, all pale, blood running from the side of her mouth and—“ she passed a hand over her eyes. “This is what got me spooked. I saw a hole where her left eye should be.”

  Cole and I exchanged a look. He reached across the table, lightly touched Xia’s hand. “Do you feel well enough to go on?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Perhaps if I could have some water…”

  Cole left the room, returned with a pitcher of water and a glass. He poured some for Xia. She downed it in one gulp, leaned back in the chair, motioned for us to sit as well.

  “I’m okay now,” she said. “It was just—seeing her so—is it true? Was her eye cut out?”

  “We’re not at lib—“ I began, but Cole interrupted.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Oh.” She took another deep breath, looked at the cards again. “Where was I?”

  “Xia,” I dragged my hand through my hair. “Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t have to go on. We can stop now.”

  “I said I’m okay,” she bit out, her eyes flashing. “I want to do this—I have to, for Darla. For any other poor witch.”

  “No, you don’t—“ I began, but she held out her hand.

  “Oh, yes I do. And don’t try to stop me, because I can be just as stubborn as you, Morgan Hawkes. You don’t have a monopoly on it.”

  I looked at Cole out of the corner of my eye. His lips quivered, and I just knew he didn’t want to let go with a big wide smile. I grimaced, dropped back in the chair. “Okay, ” I barked. “You want to do it, do it. Get on with it.”

  Xia expelled a pent-up breath. “The bottom card—Five of Swords. Separation brought about by an unfeeling and coldly calculated act.”

  “It seems from this reading our perp’s gonna be successful,” I muttered.

  Xia threw me a pained look. “Morgan, please.” She tapped the card to the left of the cross. “This card—the Eight of Swords—represents a passing influence. In this case it signifies confusion, inability to focus on the crux of the problem, to free oneself from a difficult situation.”

  “Who’s confused—the victim or the perp?” I snapped. “Or maybe you mean me.”

  Xia’s head shot up. “If the shoe fits,” she said with a curl of her lip.

  Cole’s fingers pressed into my arm. “I believe your cousin wishes you to be quiet,” he murmured. He smiled at Xia. “Go on, please.”

  She pushed a stray curl out of her eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry.” With a baleful glance my way, she continued, “The card at the right is an approaching influence. Strength. It’s reversed, which signifies the inability to defend oneself. Confusion. The card at the base represents the querant role or attitude. The Four of Wands suggests the successful resolution of a matter. The card second from the bottom is the Five of Wands, reversed, which signifies a pointless struggle, a stressful situation which brings out the worst in its participants.

  Second from the top, an unexpected element comes into play: The two of cups. Joining of male and female. Last, we have the ultimate outcome, should we continue on the present course: The Magician. A person who uses the knowledge and skill they possess for destructive purposes.”

  She lay her hands on top of the cards, closed her eyes. “This person is heading toward an ultimate purpose. He can only be stopped if the male and female join together in perfect harmony. The Magician has a goal of ultimate destruction in mind, but ultimately, it is the male and female who will bring about his doom.”

  We were all silent for a few moments. Cole asked, “What about on a more immediate level, Xia. What about tomorrow? Will he be successful in what he’s planning for tomorrow?”

  Xia closed her eyes for a few moments, let her fingertips caress each card. At length she shook her head. “I can’t tell. I’m sorry. All the cards are telling me is unless the male and female work in harmony, the Magician will reign supreme.”

  “It’s alright,” Cole patted her shoulder. “You did good. Why don’t you just take a moment to collect yourself now? I’d like a word with Morgan in my office.”

  I squeezed Xia’s hand as I passed. “Have another glass of water. As soon as I’m done with Cole, we’ll go home.”

  Xia pressed my hand back, hard. “I saw a book, too,” she whispered. “A book is important.”

  I frowned. “A book? What sort? Telephone? Diary?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

  “Morgan,” Cole barked. “Leave Xia rest and come…now.”

  I released Xia’s hand and with a small smile, followed Cole back down the hallway into his office. Once inside, I shut the door and turned to face him.

  “Why in blazes did you put her through that,” I exploded. “She didn’t tell us much more than we already know. You got her all worked up for nothing.”

  His eyebrow went straight up. “Beg pardon, but I did not get her worked up at all. She volunteered. And I rather think she gave us some useful information.”

  I stared at him. “What in all that did you find useful?”

  His fingers scraped along the edge of his jaw. “For one thing, the part about the male and female joining together in harmony. She so obviously means us.”

  I gave him an eyeroll. “Yeah? Well, us working in harmony doesn’t seem too bloody likely, does it?”

  “Not when one of us is so stubborn,” Cole said calmly. “However, I’m willing to compromise.”

  “You? Inferring, no doubt, I am the stubborn one?”

  “If the shoe fits…but seriously, Morgan, our loggerheads could make the difference for someone between life and death.”

  I leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “What else did you find useful?”

  “Our next victim could well be who Xia referred to as the Queen of Cups. Remember the description? A person isolated and alone, driven to fantasies, daydreams…”

  “Wait!” I s
napped my fingers. “Xia was right on the money, Cole. Only she didn’t see the next victim. She saw the last one.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Darla. Although I confess, I was under the impression Darla was a very outgoing--”

  “She was,” I interrupted. “I didn’t mean her, I meant the one out of order. The missing number four. A loner, someone who doesn’t fit in—who does that remind you of?”

  His black eyes gleamed. “Florrie.”

  “Damn right.” I started for the door. “I’m going to take Xia home. In the meantime, can you get a diving team together?”

  He started. “I suppose so. But there are over a dozen lakes in and around Central City, Morgan. How do we know which one?”

  “Xia told us that too, if you’d only stop and think a minute.”

  He did, then nodded. “Dark River Lake. It’s about two miles from the University. I’ll start assembling the team.”

  “I’ll take Xia home, and meet you there.” I whirled on my heel, started for the door. Midway I paused. “She said something else that rings of truth.”

  “Which is?”

  “Florrie never saw it coming,” I flung over my shoulder, and slammed the door.

  Chapter 15

  The ride home was an awkward one, with neither Xia nor I speaking to each other. Once I pulled into our driveway and switched off the ignition, she jumped out and ran up the front steps and into the house without one word to me. I sat for a moment, bent forward so my forearms rested on the wheel.

  Ago angajan asogwe. Lughnasadh.

  I reared back, pounded my fist against the wheel. “I know,” I whispered into the twilight. “Somewhere out there is an asogwe, a high rank Voodoo priest, who’s doing black magic in exchange for some sort of service from an lwa. Dammit, if you really want to help, can’t you tell me who it is, instead of playing these games?”

  Silence.

  “Can you at least tell me if Marinette is the lwa? If there’s a connection between that secret society that honors her and these deaths.?”

  More silence. No voices swimming around in my head. I sighed.

  “Guess I can’t expect it to be so easy, can I? Lughnasadh,” I muttered. “August 1st, is the key, the date it’s to happen. But what? And how can I find out who’s behind it all? Is it Graft, or Morrow, or is there someone else?” I pressed my fingers against my eyelids, rubbed. Dammit, the answer was right in front of me, I knew it. Why couldn’t I get it?