Gone Witch

Home > Other > Gone Witch > Page 12
Gone Witch Page 12

by Nova Nelson


  “Oh, it was. Let’s go home and sleep for a day, huh?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Ruby glanced up from her book as Grim and I entered the house. If I hadn’t already suspected I looked less than awesome after both Ted and Tanner had told me to get some rest, Ruby’s words would have done the trick. “Well, I’ll be a basilisk’s backside. Look what the grim dragged in.”

  “I had a long day.”

  Ruby marked her place in the book and set it aside on the table next to her chair. “Looks more like you had a long ten years. What happened?”

  “They found Grace’s body.”

  Ruby’s eyebrows pinched together and she frowned. “Really?”

  “Yes. In the Outskirts. Looks like her former lover did it. They found a note from him at the scene of the crime, at least.”

  Her expression was troubled. “I don’t understand. Why would the killer leave a letter he sent to the victim at the scene of the crime?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he was trying to get rid of the evidence of his crime and accidentally dropped it when he was disposing of the body.”

  “And this body, was it freshly dead?”

  I gazed over at the kitchen, briefly considering making myself some tea. No, I was too tired. Even as my stomach growled from skipping lunch, I didn’t have it in me to make something before I crawled into bed. “I dunno. The body had been dragged into the Deadwoods.”

  “But I thought you said it was found.”

  “It was. Someone called it in, but by the time Manchester and everyone else got there, it had been dragged away.”

  Ruby narrowed her eyes at me. “Mm-hm…”

  “What?”

  She waved it off. “Oh, nothing. There’s just nothing about that story that resonates with my Insight. No ring of truth to it. If you weren’t so exhausted, I suspect you would have picked up on it, too. No worries, the truth will come to light soon enough. It usually does.” She grabbed her book and opened it up again, and as much as I wanted to pin her down on what she meant, I wanted even more to not think about the gory situation any longer. At least not until I could get a little rest under my belt.

  My new roommate was nowhere to be seen when I entered my bedroom, and I made straight for the dresser, pulling out pj’s, eager to snuggle comfortably under the quilt.

  Out of habit, Grim looked away when it came time for me to dispose of the bra and slip into my baggy shirt and thin cotton pants. When I turned around, though, I had an audience. “For fang’s sake, Roland. We talked about this.”

  The gorgeous love of my past life sat in the armchair at the corner of the room, across from the foot of my bed.

  He didn’t appear the slightest bit ashamed of himself. “Diana, aren’t we past that yet? We’ve been sharing sleeping quarters for weeks now. We’ve been intimate in the past.”

  “Right, but—”

  “You have a boyfriend, I know.”

  Grim’s head shot up. “He still doesn’t know?”

  “No! And I’m not going to tell him.”

  As Grim turned circles on his doggy bed, he said, “Is that because you’re worried you’ll sneak off into the Deadwoods with him and ‘banish some entities’ all over each other?”

  “That’s not even a good euphemism,” I snapped, glaring at him.

  “You’re not a good euphemism.” He flopped onto the cushion.

  “I— That doesn’t make sense!”

  “You’re speaking with him, aren’t you?” asked Roland. “Is it especially difficult tonight? Your expression is strained.”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s especially difficult tonight. Or rather, he’s especially difficult tonight.”

  “May I ask you something, Diana?”

  “Nora,” I corrected, agitated. He’d said he would call me by the right name, not the one I’d had in the past life when he and I pledged ourselves to each other.

  “There’s something on your mind lately. Would you trust me to help carry the burden for you?”

  I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over my stomach while I leaned against the headboard. “You want me to tell you what’s on my mind?”

  He nodded and glided slowly over to the bed, sitting on the end of it. It was where he usually sat while I slept, which sounds creepy and was at first. After a while, as much as I hated to admit it, I decided it was kind of nice to know someone was watching over me.

  I both hated and loved having him so close. The emotions he stirred in me, negative or positive, were always intense, bordering on overwhelming.

  You could just give in, whispered a little voice inside me. You’re single. You’re a Fifth Wind. If anyone has a shot at romance with a spirit, it’s you.

  “I would love nothing more than to know what’s on your mind, Nora,” he said. I could lose myself in that gorgeous face. The memory of being on that cliffside with him, being able to touch him, placing my hand on his sunkissed cheek, feeling the stubble along his strong jaw, the turquoise of his eyes gazing into my soul …

  “There was a murder,” I said. “I promised a friend I would try to reach the victim’s spirit.”

  “Did it work?”

  “I haven’t tried yet.”

  There was some hidden mischief in his gaze, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips perhaps, when he said, “Why not try now?”

  I shrugged. “I’m exhausted. And I’m worried it might not work, and I don’t want to deliver even more bad news to him.”

  “Try it now,” he encouraged, and who could refuse that gentle half-grin, that dancing accent, that penetrating gaze?

  “Fine. Just stay quiet for a little bit, though. I’ve gotten better at this, but it’s been a while since we practiced it in our lessons.”

  I closed my eyes to initiate the summoning. Slowly, the picture I’d carefully reconstructed from memory spread out from the center of the darkness. This was my summoning spot. I didn’t know where exactly it was in space or time, only that it was a spiritual way station between planes, a place where I could interact with the restless spirits who lingered rather than moving on fully to another existence, maybe another life.

  Ruby had instructed me to make this land between the planes somewhere I knew by heart. It hadn’t been hard to choose where that would be.

  Zilker Park at sunset. It was a place I’d visited on my days off in Austin. I could sit on the hillside, green fields stretching out all around me, and watch the sun set behind the skyline of downtown. It was also somewhere I could be among people yet remain anonymous. No one needed anything from me there. I could be alone, which I was incredibly skilled at, without feeling lonely. Dogs off their leashes would greet me with a wagging tail and a goofy smile, and that happiness was contagious.

  I’d always wanted a dog, but my long hours wouldn’t have been good for one. And knowing what I did now, that I wasn’t long for that world, it was best that I hadn’t adopted a best friend only to leave him or her behind.

  And now I had Grim. There’s a classic case of “be careful what you wish for” if I ever saw one.

  Though I wasn’t sure how the summoning process worked in any logical sense, Ruby had explained in depth about astral projection and how this fell under the umbrella of it, so I didn’t question it too much. Not a whole lot of overlap on a Venn diagram of logic and astral projections.

  I took in my surroundings at the park, trying to spot someone who could be Grace. I’d only seen pictures of her, but her white blonde hair would make her stand out.

  A basset hound waddled up to me, its tail wagging the rest of its long body with it as it sniffed my shoes. I wasn’t sure if the dogs in this place were ghost dogs or just part of my visualization, but that didn’t stop me from bending over and giving her a good scratch behind her floppy ears.

  Once she grew bored and, in a hypnotic rocking motion, galloped away after a fluff ball of a dog half her size, I stood again and looked in all directions. There were lik
ely a few hundred people spread out around the fields, but none of them jumped out at me as possibly being Grace. I sighed. “I guess she’s already crossed over,” I muttered.

  “Wrong, I’m afraid. The girl’s not dead.”

  I whipped around, my mouth falling open when my eyes landed on Roland ... in living color. “How’d you get here?”

  “I’m a spirit. I just had to follow you through.”

  I reached out cautiously for his face. My better judgment hoped my hand went right through him. The rest of me was overwhelmingly pleased when that didn’t happen.

  “This is bad,” I said, resting my hand on his cheek before letting my fingertips slide down his neck to his chest. He reached up and took my hand in his, holding it close to his body.

  “I thought you might say that, my love.” He brought his free hand up to my face, tucking my hair behind my ear before I felt his strong hand cradling the back of my head. “So I’ve set my mind on changing yours.”

  “I need to find Grace,” I whimpered.

  “She’s not here. But we are.”

  And a whole host of other spirit voyeurs, I thought. The idea didn’t bother me like I’d hoped it would. I was quickly running out of excuses to keep from giving into Roland’s advances. I wasn’t ready, though. Saying yes to him even once at this point would be crossing the event horizon, the point of no return.

  “Answer me this, Diana.” Good goddess, his body felt incredible against mine. “Why didn’t you tell me about your separation from Tanner?”

  Instantly, the spell was broken. I took a quick half-step back from him. “Wait, you know about that? Who told you?”

  “No one. I was there when it happened.”

  “You were stalking me?”

  “If you’d like to call it that. And I must say, for a moment there, I was worried you might fall right into the arms of Donovan.”

  Roland had just given me a handy reason to continue pushing him away, and I seized it. Small blessings. Now I could continue keeping him at arm’s length and pretend it was for a reason other than my inability to let anyone as close as he intended to be.

  “You’ve been spying on me. I can’t believe you!”

  “Off and on, yes. But it’s not like you’ve anything to hide, my love. This new incarnation of you fascinates me, and I want to know everything about you. Truly, you’ve turned out to be far more worth the effort of crossing multiple lifetimes than I’d originally thought.” He stepped forward again, and I didn’t back away. Our bodies were inches apart, but he didn’t close the space with contact. “The one thing I can’t figure out, though, is why you didn’t tell me. I know you still love me. I believe you always will, no matter how much you try to lock that part of your soul away. Why not just give in, Diana? Why not surrender yourself to this? I assure you, only the most exquisite things will follow, and they can be ours forever.”

  I swallowed down the desire to say, “Ah heck. You’re right. Let’s do this thing.” The desire did not go down easy. “I’m not ready for that.”

  He nodded, donning a sly grin as he stepped back. “Okay then. I’ll wait a little while longer.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to shake the feeling that I’d just made a terrible mistake. “Great. Let’s get back.” I reached for his hands to tug him through with me, but he didn’t offer them up.

  “Before we do.” He lifted my chin with a crooked finger, and I didn’t fight it as he lowered his face toward mine. The heat of his lips lit a fire in my belly, but before I could wrap my arms around his neck, pull him closer, pretend that what happened in astral projection stayed in astral projection, he took my hands in his and broke the kiss. “That’s all you get for now. If I have to wait, so do you.”

  I groaned, then gripped his hands much harder than necessary. Blood beat a drum in my head as I glared at him. “You tricky son of a …”

  I pulled, yanking both of us back into the bedroom of Ruby True’s house. I fell back into my body with a jolt and caught the smallest glimpse of Roland, laughing wholeheartedly before he evaporated from my sight.

  Once the lamp was shut off and my racing heart had begun to slow, just before the swirls of sleep fogged my mind, I remembered what he’d said.

  I sat up straight. “She’s not dead?” I murmured. “He said she wasn’t dead. How does he know?”

  “Please shut up,” said Grim.

  I ignored him and hissed, “Roland. Roland!”

  But there was no answer. Of all the times for Roland O’Neill to start playing hard to get, and he had to pick that one.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Despite having slept all the way through until the next morning, I awoke feeling unrested and drained. A dull aching in my head reminded me that my dreams had been a drawn-out spiral of confusion.

  I shuffled downstairs before dawn, dreading a full day of work when I was still so exhausted. It was almost as if sleep had made me more tired than the day before, not less.

  Usually I could wait until I was at Medium Rare to have my first cup of coffee, but not today. I needed something, and though Ruby didn’t keep coffee in the house, she had plenty of tea, and by now I knew which wooden coffers held which mixture, to the extent that I could keep from accidentally poisoning myself by pouring the wrong ingredient into the tea strainer.

  The only black tea she had was cruelly bitter, but it went a long way to wake up my senses, so for that reason I tolerated it.

  And once my senses awoke after the first few sips, the revelation of the night before elbowed its way to the forefront of my mind: Grace isn’t dead.

  The bits and pieces of my dreams, a nightmarish chaos of my subconscious, had swirled around a single important point like a giant hurricane. I knew that if only I could make it to the eye of that storm, I would gain some sort of key insight I needed to understand the sundry pieces of this strange mystery.

  Insight. I had that in spades. Maybe it had been what caused me to have such fitful sleep, working its literal magic unobstructed by my meddlesome consciousness.

  Grace isn’t dead. I tried to focus on that possibility, to make that the center of my reality and let the other pieces fall into place around it to form a narrative that could make sense.

  And as the caffeine from the tea set in, that exact thing began to take place.

  I’d never seen Grace’s body. No one had that I knew of. Someone had reported a body, but it was anonymous, so could I rely on it as fact?

  The only item present that hinted at the victim’s identity was the letter from Fritz. The assumption I’d been functioning under was that he would be the one to have it, since, outside of me and Landon, he was likely the only one who knew it existed. Therefore, he would know to go looking for it, especially once we’d mentioned we knew about it and Grace was missing. If a former (and secret) lover of mine went missing, I would probably want to clean up any trail of my connection to him to avoid suspicion, even if I had nothing to do with his disappearance.

  The assumption that Fritz was the only one who could have had that letter was flawed, though. After all, if Landon and I were able to find it in under a half hour of searching her unoccupied home, who’s to say someone else hadn’t done the same?

  No, I was losing sight of my central point: What if Grace wasn’t dead? The idea that she was still alive needed to remain the foundation of my theory, at least until I could prove it one way or another.

  If she was alive, that would mean there was no body. Or if there was a body, it wasn’t hers. Could Fritz have murdered someone else while he had the letter in his pocket? Sure, why not? But again, that didn’t affect Grace.

  If she wasn’t dead, where was she?

  Well, where would I go if I were in her shoes? Presumably, she was pregnant with a werewolf’s baby, and her circle wouldn’t like it. So, she wouldn’t go to her circle. And Landon described her as having enough sense not to move to a werewolf compound. Not that Fritz would allow it. He seemed set on maintaining appearan
ces with his wife. Having a pregnant lover around would blow their cover to the rest of the pack.

  Could she still be in Eastwind? Maybe there was a friend of hers who was hiding her. Did Landon know any of her friends outside of himself?

  I remembered his description of her office. Meticulous, organized, prepared for anything. She wouldn’t disappear on her own accord without a firm and detailed plan in place. After all, she planned everything about her days on that giant calendar. Everything until 6:47am, that is.

  As soon as I remembered the date, my Insight did a little flip in my chest. It was important. There was something there. It felt like a flag stuck in the ground with an arrow pointing downward and the words, “treasure this way!” written across it.

  Where would someone go at 6:47? What would someone do? No one made plans for that time.

  I went to take another sip of tea to realize my cup was already empty. I refilled it then looked at the clock on the wall. Just past four forty-five in the morning. I still had a bit of time before I needed to leave for work.

  I’d gotten used to walking to work each day—and walking everywhere in general. I quite enjoyed it now. But this morning, my bones ached and my body felt like it’d doubled in weight. Even sitting up straight when I was this exhausted felt like a herculean task. What I wouldn’t do for Eastwind to magic up some cars. Nah, that would ruin the feel of the place, and I knew firsthand how deadly those could be. Eastwind definitely didn’t need to add yet another death risk. Maybe just a bus system. Or a tram. Maybe build it on some tracks to keep it safe for pedestrians. There were ways it could work.

  Mental tangent anyone? I could expect this level of distraction all day at work. One messed up order after another. Great.

  Maybe if they build a fence around the train …

  Oh come on, mind. Focus!

  Only, a moment later, I realized that my lack of focus was exactly what I’d needed to click the last missing piece into place. Lack of focus, it seemed, had moved me out of the way of my Insight.

 

‹ Prev