Waking the Witch

by Kelley Armstrong

  I headed for the door. "We need to find him."

  THE BIG SET of doors did indeed lead onto the sawmill floor--a huge open space filled with crap. Not crap, I guess. Machinery mostly. Here and there were blank spaces, as if those pieces had been sold. The remainder looked as if it dated from the sawmill's opening.

  Rooms were easy to search systematically while keeping an eye on the exit. This would be like searching an open forest, treacherous terrain filled with ambush spots.

  "I'm going to cast my sensing spell," I whispered.

  Adam hesitated, then nodded.

  The problem was knowing whether the spell was coming back negative because nothing was there or because it was shorting out. I could pick up faint pulses, though--rats, cats, or other critters. When I faced east, I caught the distant signs of a human-sized presence.

  I pointed and nodded. Adam let out a sigh of relief. However much he'd been grumbling, he had been concerned about Jesse. Just more concerned about me.

  I only hoped it was Jesse, and not the person who'd killed Cody and the guard.

  I let Adam take the lead. He carefully picked his way past the machinery, avoiding stepping on any debris and announcing his presence.

  As we passed a saw, blades covered, I heard the scuffle of a shoe on the concrete and spun, hands flying up in a spell. It failed. Someone knocked me to the ground. I caught a whiff of overwhelming BO.

  Before I could fight back, Adam hauled the figure off me. Another stink filled the air--burning fabric. Adam threw my attacker aside. I leaped to my feet. There lay a middle-aged guy in a jacket so filthy I couldn't guess at the color. Same went for the guy's hair, and even the guy himself.

  He scuttled back, gaze fixed on Adam looming over him.

  "This is my spot," the man whined. "Randy promised he wouldn't give it to anyone else."

  I directed Adam's attention to a nest of rags and boxes in the corner. Adam swore under his breath and reached into his back pocket.

  "Is Randy the security guard?" I asked the homeless guy.

  He nodded, still watching Adam.

  "When did you last see him?" I asked.

  "Yesterday. He brought me a sandwich."

  Adam plucked out a twenty and handed it to the guy. "We've been looking for a friend of ours who came in here. Have you seen anyone today?"

  The man shook his head and took the money. "I just got here. I was down at the diner. They give me day-olds and yesterday's newspapers if I come by at ten."

  "Did you see anyone here last night?"

  "Wasn't here last night. I've got another place in town. It's better, but the lady in the building beside it calls the cops if she sees me there, so I don't stay during the day."

  "We need you to get out of here," Adam said. "It's not safe right now."

  "This is my--"

  "--place. We know that. And you can come back in the morning, but right now it's not safe."

  The man crossed his arms. "You'll take my stuff."

  I motioned to Adam that we needed to get going.

  "Fine," he said to the man. "Just stay put, okay? Don't come out, no matter what you hear."

  "Is it a delivery?"

  Adam nodded. "Yes, it's another delivery, but we've got new guys and they're nervous, so stay here and be quiet or they won't let you stay, no matter what Randy says."

  We started to walk away.

  "Hey!" the guy yelled, making us both cringe.

  Adam wheeled, shushing him.

  The man plucked at his jacket sleeve. "You burned my coat."

  Adam frowned. "How would I do that?"

  I took the wallet and gave the guy two more twenties.

  "No incinerating the homeless," I whispered as we walked away.

  "Yeah, yeah."

  We walked a few more steps, then he glanced over at me.

  "Back there, when the guy jumped you ..."

  "Swing first, cast later. I know."

  "If I ask how you're feeling, can I hope for an honest answer?"

  "Not great, not bad. I'll--"

  "--be okay. I know." He sighed. I pretended not to notice.

  "I'm going to try my sensing spell again," I said.

  Adam nodded. I cast. It failed. I was midway through a second try when I caught a flicker out of the corner of my eye. Something flew straight at me, so fast I saw only a fastball blur. It hit the side of my head and everything went black.

  thirty-six

  I woke up lying on the dusty floor. My arm throbbed. My head throbbed even worse.

  "Adam," I croaked.

  Silence. When I tried to rise, my stomach lurched and I gagged, mouth filling with bile. I spit it out and had to take a second to steady myself, head and stomach both spinning.

  When I could finally lift my head again, even looking around made my gorge rise.

  I was alone. Beside me, I saw the outline of a body in the dust, then drag marks.

  They'd gotten the muscular guy out of the way first, planning to come back for the helpless girl next. That was a mistake. I lifted my fingers and cast a sensing spell. Nothing happened.

  Shit.

  I fought welling panic. I was fine. I just needed to conserve my energy for one good lethal blast.

  I pushed up on all fours. My stomach lurched and I retched. My arm throbbed. I looked down to see an angry red bump. I'd seen marks like that after every shot I'd had in my life. A reaction to needles.

  I'd been injected with a sedative.

  It took a minute more for me to get to my feet. Another to get steady enough to stay upright. The whole time my brain was screaming at me to get moving. Follow the drag marks. Find Adam.

  Logically, I knew if our attacker wanted Adam dead, he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of dragging him off. Still, as I stood there, fighting to keep from curling up in a ball and spilling my guts on the floor, I felt weak. Useless, powerless, and weak.

  I finally managed to start lurching forward, straining for any sound of my attacker's return. The sawmill was completely silent.

  I thought about the homeless guy. Had he left? Was he dead? Or was there a better explanation for his sudden appearance and now his silence?

  Wasn't that the perfect disguise for a killer? Roll a real homeless guy, steal his clothes?

  I followed the drag marks down a passage that ended at a wider one where the floor had been recently swept.

  No more tracks to follow.

  As much as I wanted to conserve spell power, I needed to find Adam. I closed my eyes and cast the sensing spell. On the third try, I gave up.

  I looked at the puncture wound in my arm. Not a sedative. More of whatever poison I'd been dosed with for the last few days. That's why I could barely walk without upchucking on my shoes.

  I managed three more steps. Then I heard a low moan. I froze, prepping a cover spell before I realized what I was doing. I stopped casting and looked around. Off to my left, a denim-clad leg peeked from between two pieces of machinery.

  I raced over, stomach forgotten. As I flew around a processing table, I caught a glimpse of light hair and my heart fluttered with relief. Then I realized it was too long to be Adam's.

  Jesse lay on his back, eyes closed. When he moaned again, I touched his arm and his eyes opened.

  "Sav--" He swallowed. "Savannah."

  I shushed him and helped him sit up. He winced and put his hand to the back of his head. Dried blood plastered his hair to his skull.

  "Something hit me," he whispered.

  "I know the feeling."

  "I think ..." He made a face. "I think I've been drugged."

  He was still wearing his denim jacket, but the bottom of his T-shirt had been shoved up. He pulled it farther and found a pinprick of blood on his abs.

  "How's your stomach?" I whispered. "Do you feel sick?"

  "Queasy, but I think that's from my head."

  I told him what happened. When I finished, his eyes widened.

  "The homeless guy. Shit! I found h
im just after I got here. Even gave him some money trying to get him to leave." He shook his head. "You said the guard's dead?"

  I nodded. "Cody, too."

  "Cody? I never even saw him. The guard was alive when I got here. I had to sneak around to avoid him. I got a lead on those pharmaceuticals. That's not only Cody's illegal enterprise--it's his supernatural connection. He's selling cut-rate drugs to supernaturals and raking in a massive profit."

  "Taking advantage of our problems visiting doctors."

  "Right. That's where Tiffany came in. She set everything up. Her and another supernatural named Timothy Greer. I'm guessing he's playing the homeless guy. He must have killed Ginny and Brandi because--"

  "Not Ginny and Brandi. They were--Never mind. It's not important now. We need to find Adam."

  "Right."

  I tried to help him to his feet, but lost my balance, and he had to grab and steady me.

  "Are you okay?" he whispered. "I've never seen anyone actually look green."

  "Poison, I think."

  "What?"

  I told him what Adam and I thought was happening, then warned him not to count on my spells.

  "Okay," he said. "We need to find Adam and get you to a doctor."

  We'd gone about ten feet when Jesse pointed at smudged grease on a machine.

  "Someone brushed against that," he said. "This way."

  I bent to examine the spot. "There's dust on it. Someone brushed against it a while ago."

  He leaned over and frowned. "I don't see any dust."

  "It's--Never mind."

  Jesse led the way, picking up more signs, most too faint for me to see. I stayed behind him. He tried a few times to get me to go ahead. "I should be watching your back if your spells are failing." But I said no, and we kept going.

  We'd been searching for about ten minutes when he froze.

  "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

  I shook my head.

  "Over there." He waved into the darkness under a conveyer belt.

  "You hide there," he said. "I'm going to check it out."

  I crawled into the space. Once he'd slipped around the corner, I snuck across the aisle and ducked behind another piece of machinery, something with knobs and dials.

  I was squeezing behind it, my stomach protesting, when I caught a flicker of motion across the way. A crate resting atop the conveyer belt wiggled. Then it toppled, hitting the floor with a resounding crash ... and blocking the space I'd just crawled out of.

  I peeked out to see Jesse at the end of the aisle. He stared at the box. It jiggled again, then shifted, better blocking the hole. Twenty seconds passed, then he broke into a run, boots slapping the concrete as loud as he could manage as he raced to where I was apparently trapped.

  "Savannah!" He stopped. "Shit! Are you okay?"

  He didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed the crate, but it wouldn't budge.

  "Fuck! What is in this thing? I'm going to get something to move it, okay? Hang tight. I'll be right back."

  He ran loudly back down the aisle. Then he stopped, sat on a crate, and leaned back against a table, getting comfortable as he waited for the poison to do its work.

  thirty-seven

  Jesse had set us up.

  I'd started suspecting him when I'd thought about that object flying at my head. Then I became more certain when he'd kept leading me with invisible "signs." But even now, after witnessing proof, I couldn't believe it. I just didn't see a motivation.

  Had he enticed me on this case to kill me and collect a bounty from the Nasts? I'd love to think they hated me that much--somehow it was better to be feared than to be ignored. But if they'd offered a bounty, I would have heard of it. Lucas always knows when there's one on him.

  Could Jesse be a witch-hunter? With legends, there were always nuggets of truth surrounded by layers of bullshit. Maybe the part about them always being women was part of the bullshit. Jesse entices me onto a case where he thinks witches are involved, gets me to sniff out Tiffany, kills her, then comes after me.

  I knew now how Michael had fallen from that balcony. Jesse lured him up there, probably by rattling stuff around, then telekinetically shoved him over the edge. I hadn't considered him before because he'd been on the phone with me when I got Michael's text. More important, no Agito could send a guy flying like that.

  But if Jesse killed Michael, what better way to throw off suspicion than call me while texting me from Michael's phone? As for his powers, he had to be a Volo. I wasn't sure how that was possible. There were only a few in the world, and at his age, he shouldn't have full control over his powers yet.

  I peered out at Jesse again. Too far to launch a deadly spell ... if I could even manage one. I needed to get closer.

  I cast the blur three times and failed. On the fourth, it caught and I slid out the other side--away from Jesse. Then the spell broke.

  I took a deep breath. Sweat trickled down my forehead. When I wiped it away, I realized my skin was burning. Fever, coming on fast and strong.

  Less than ten feet to my left, the aisle branched off. I could run that way and escape. Not fight. Escape.

  No, maybe a blur spell would get me far enough to cast--

  Far enough to cast, maybe. Far enough to cast until something worked while Jesse threw god-knew-what at me? No.

  Escape it was.

  I closed my eyes, focused hard, and cast again. It clicked on the first try. I was so intent on escape that I didn't hear the patter of my own sneakers until it was too late. I dove out of the way, managing to get into that branching aisle just as Jesse leaped up, crate clattering.

  I looked around. The spell was still holding, but it was only a blur one, so he could see me if he looked hard enough. I held my breath and ran again, not caring how much noise I made, just getting as far as I could.

  I darted into the first hiding spot I found, wedging myself between two pieces of equipment. I resisted the urge to try a cover spell. Unless he shone a flashlight right at me, I was safe.

  Great. Sure. Just wait until he decides to leave. Not like you could be poisoned or anything.

  No, I couldn't hide for long, but I could hide long enough for him to get closer.

  "Savannah?"

  I closed my eyes, tracking his voice.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are." A chuckle. "Guess it couldn't be that easy. Luckily for you, I am chock-full of contingency plans. Or, I suppose, that's not so lucky for you."

  It didn't sound like Jesse. The voice was his, but the tone, the cadence, even the chuckle ... The singsong sarcasm poked at a deep memory.

  No, it's Jesse. You confirmed the photo. Adam knows him. That's clearly Jesse. He was just playing a role before, for you and for Adam and probably for Lucas. Worming his way into your confidences. But why?

  "I wouldn't hide too long," he said. "Or when they finally raze this building, they're going to find your corpse, kiddo."

  Kiddo. Another memory twitch.

  It's the fever talking. Ignore it and be ready.

  Jesse walked past me. I cast an energy bolt. Nothing happened. I closed my eyes and cast again. Nothing. Cast. Nothing.

  A squeak of his boots. I opened my eyes. He'd turned back my way.

  I looked around wildly and saw a pencil perched on top of a metal table just behind him. I remembered one of the first spells I'd learned. The simplest spell.

  I cast. The pencil levitated on the first try. I moved it to the edge of the table and let it go. As it clattered to the floor, Jesse spun. His left hand formed a fist at his side and a rusty hammer rose from under the table. He maneuvered it out, watching and listening for me to make a move. My gaze stayed fixed on that fisted hand still at his side.

  Every telekinetic half-demon has a "tell." A physical tic that precedes an attack. The other day, in activating his powers, Jesse had flexed his right hand, hiding his left ... because it was a tell I'd recognize.

  I heard Paige's voice from eight years ago. She'd mak
e a fist with her left hand. She was good at covering it, but I figured it out about two seconds before she sent a twenty-pound pot sailing at my head.

  The day before that I'd found out who my father was. I heard that voice now. Trust me, kiddo, you're gonna love this one. You've hit the genetic jackpot.

  Leah O'Donnell.

  My elbow bumped the machine beside me, and I realized I was shivering.

  No way. No fucking way.

  I blinked hard. It was the fever. I was losing it. I was remembering Jesse talking about Leah so I'd hallucinated that fisting left hand. Or maybe all Volos had that tell. And "kiddo" wasn't exactly a rare endearment.

  But as outrageous as it sounded, it made sense, too. Jaime had sounded freaked out when I called. She'd been trying to contact Paige, and she'd been very happy to hear that I wasn't staying at home alone. Because she knew Leah had escaped her hell dimension? Feared she might come after me and thought I was safe if I wasn't in Portland?

  Crazy, yes, but in my world, the most bizarre explanation is usually the right one.

  Now if I could only figure out what possible reason Leah would have to take over Jesse and try to kill me, I'd be set.

  That brainpower, though, was better spent sending the bitch on a one-way trip back to hell. I concentrated, pouring everything I had into a lethal spell--

  If the killer was really Jesse, I could justify killing him. But if it was Leah in his body?

  Oh, shit.

  I didn't have a clue how to exorcise her. I needed to get Jaime.

  Sure, just run outside and call her. Hope you don't die of poison in the meantime. Hope Leah doesn't kill Adam in the meantime.

  For now, just incapacitate Leah, find Adam, and go. And do it without my spells.

  Shit.

  Jesse was moving down the aisle, hammer hovering in the air as he searched for the source of the noise. When he slowed, I mentally lifted the pencil and dropped it again. I couldn't get it high enough, though, and the rolling sound was unmistakable.

  Jesse crouched and spotted it. I cast a binding spell. It fizzled. I closed my eyes and tried again.

  "Someone doing a little telekinesis of her own?" Jesse said. "Why don't you come out and we'll play--"

  He stopped as the spell clicked. I leaped out from my hiding spot. My stomach shot up on a wave of bile. I ignored it and barreled into him. As my hands made contact, the spell snapped. He ducked. I stumbled. A power-drive to the side of my skull sent me to the floor.