The Bewitching Hour

by Mallory Crowe

  “I called Jackson,” she said. “He’s giving me a ride home.”

  Abigail was speechless while Derek narrowed his eyes at the new man. “I thought you called your mother,” he said to Sam, still judging how he felt about this guy.

  “No. Mom just has a way of... hearing about things.” She ran a hand over tired eyes. “Well, it’s been fun, but—”

  No. She did not get to just walk out of here like nothing happened. Derek ignored the defense attorney and civilian around him and reached for Sam, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the lobby and down a nearby hallway. “What the hell, Sam?”

  Predictably, Abigail and the guy were soon to follow, but Sam held up a hand, signaling them to stay back. But that didn’t mean she was in a talkative mood with Derek. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Anything!” He struggled to keep his voice low enough so her mother wouldn’t overhear. “What happened with Tommy? Why didn’t you tell me who your family was? And now you’re just leaving. You haven’t left me alone since the second you first tried to help and now that I want to talk to you, you’re bailing.”

  Sam started to say something but then seemed to change her mind. “You were right. I was in over my head. I never should’ve gotten involved. I admit that and now I’m just going to leave it to the professionals.”

  She started to leave, but his hand was still on her upper arm and he didn’t let go. “You just killed a man. We need to—”

  She ripped herself free and glared up at him. “You’re damn right I just killed a man. That’s what I do. I hurt people. And if you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire, you’ll back off, Derek. Now I’m leaving. Have a nice life.”

  This time he didn’t try to stop her. He stood by and watched her go until it was just him and Abigail in the lobby.

  “What exactly happened to my daughter?” asked Abigail.

  Derek rubbed a hand over his eyes as he turned back to his desk. “Fuck if I know,” he answered honestly.

  “What the hell was that?” Jackson pulled his black Bentley out into the city streets.

  Sam’s eyes drifted shut as her head fell back onto his plush seats. “That was a mess.”

  “Did something happen between you and Abigail?”

  Sam winced. She wished she knew the answer to that. “Not really. I just need to put some distance between myself and the families right now.”

  He scoffed. “Hate to break this to you, but you are the families.”

  “Not today. I killed Tommy Collins tonight.”

  Jackson jerked to the side to stare at her and the car swerved dangerously into the next lane, where an angry cab driver slammed on the horn. Jackson cursed under his breath as he righted the car before he went back to glaring at Sam. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “That would be a pretty shitty joke.”

  “It would be better than you actually killing Tommy Collins!”

  Wasn’t that the truth? “It just... happened.”

  “Is that what you’re going to tell Claudia?”

  Sam let out a pained groan as she rubbed her eyes. “Can we please not talk about this?” She’d have to face the wrath of the families, her grandmother in particular, soon enough, but she couldn’t avoid that. There was no running and hiding from this fate. All she could do was prepare.

  “Grandma isn’t going to want to hear what I have to say. The facts will speak for themselves.” Derek had more than enough to prove beyond a doubt that Tommy had killed those women. That he was about to do the same thing to the poor girl he’d had at his apartment.

  All her grandmother would have to do is step into Tommy’s apartment to see how the black magic had corrupted every floor of the building. His guilt was undeniable. The biggest question was whether she would decide that guilt was enough of a reason for Sam, who’d wanted nothing but distance from the families so far, to kill Tommy.

  “And what are the facts?”

  That was a story she didn’t want to get into. But there was one thing she had to know. A question she’d been too afraid to ask her mother. “Did you know about Tommy? What he was doing?”

  Jackson gave her a dumfounded look. “We all knew he was creepy. A little anti-social. Why?”

  He seemed to be actually confused, which was a plus. “I think Tommy murdered at least five women and almost killed a sixth.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. And what are the chances that no one knew about it? One of our own running around leaving bodies everywhere?”

  “Are these the women on the news?”

  Sam nodded.

  “If they knew, they’d never allow him to be so public about it.”

  Though Jackson wasn’t wrong, Sam didn’t believe for a second that she was the only one who’d managed to piece together that there was a magical significance to this. And if she wasn’t the only one who knew, that meant someone was trying to cover it up.

  And she was willing to bet anything that Nick and Travis were ground zero for the cover-up. What did you get yourself into, Derek? From now on, she wasn’t pulling him any deeper into her world. He’d already gotten closer than any mortal should. Knowing her mother, the department would be off the case sooner rather than later and then Derek would have to find something else to occupy his time.

  They would have to go back to being neighbors who barely knew each other. It would be safer for everyone involved.

  Jackson pulled into a no parking zone across the street from her building. He was never one for following rules. One of the things that had always amused and annoyed her at the same time.

  “Be honest with me. Why did you call?”

  Sam took a deep breath before she looked him in the eye. “I called because I need as much strength as I can get.”

  Jackson shook his head. “We’ve been down this road before, Sam. I know that you want to get as far from all this magic shit as possible.”

  Sam reached over the console and set a hand on his knee. “That was before. I’m going to have who knows what banging down my door now.”

  He set his hand over hers. “As flattered as I am, I can’t help but be reminded that you don’t like me.”

  Sam leaned forward. Although she’d never been really interested in Jackson, she’d tried desperately to make them work as a couple for most of her high school days. Abigail had been desperate for Sam to fit in and had pushed the relationship as hard as she could; back then, Sam had been much more enthusiastic about making her family happy.

  And Jackson, for his part, had always been willing to go along with Sam. He was happy to be friend-zoned or happy to play the doting boyfriend. Sam knew it wasn’t purely friendship on his part. He wasn’t born to one of the main families, so he knew that sticking close to her was a power play no matter what. But now she needed that friendship to be real.

  “I don’t always like you,” she admitted carefully. “But right now I need you.”

  Derek woke up ten minutes before his alarm was about to go off. Not a good sign. Probably meant the three hours he’d had at his apartment had accomplished jack-all when it came to resting. He rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm on the useless clock so it wouldn’t go off mid-shower.

  He had his morning routine down to a science, so he was showered, caffeinated, dressed, and out the door in just twenty minutes. Well, he made it to the door. He stopped as soon as the heavy wood swung inward and he noticed the contraption on the floor. He knelt and studied the strange-looking device. What the—

  It was the latté machine Sam had promised him. He carefully moved it inside, but didn’t see a note anywhere. No parting words. Nothing asking about what had happened after she left the precinct.

  He locked his door and started down the stairs, turning off on Sam’s level. There were only five apartments per floor and her unit was right below his. But he didn’t need to knock on her door. The second he reached it, the guy who’d picked her up the night before swung it open.

&
nbsp; Derek stepped back as his hands balled into fists and his back went rigid. It was bad enough to see Sam leave with this guy yesterday, but seeing him now.... “What the hell are you doing here?”

  The man looked Derek up and down before he stepped into the hall and softly shut the door. His jacket was over his arm and the black t-shirt he wore wasn’t sitting right on his shoulders, a sign that it had only recently been put on. “I think the better question is what are you doing here? I thought the police were done with Sam.”

  “I’m not done with her,” growled Derek as he reached past the asshole to knock on the door. He must’ve been angrier than he thought, because the knock he’d intended turned out to be more of a pounding.

  “I think it’s time for you to leave, buddy.”

  Before Derek could tell him who would be the only one going anywhere, the door opened farther. Sam looked different than he’d ever seen her. There was no makeup on her face, and even through the bags under her eyes and her messed-up hair, she managed to look good. It was a shock to see her so normal. Without the dark eyeliner and lipstick, there was an even greater resemblance to her mother. In fact, she could throw on a power suit and walk into any courtroom looking like she belonged.

  One hell of a switch.

  “Detective Pierce,” she said cautiously.

  So now they were back to formal titles. Fuck. He had places to be and didn’t have time for this. Derek stepped into her apartment and shut the door on whoever was in the hallway. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “You can’t do that,” she snapped as she went for the door, but he blocked her.

  The guy in the hall pounded on the wood. “You need a warrant to be in there,” he shouted through the door.

  “I just need a few minutes,” said Derek.

  Sam narrowed her eyes before she finally said, “I’m fine, Jackson. I’ll call you when I get a chance.”

  After a few choice curse words, Jackson’s retreating footsteps sounded through the door.

  “All right. You’re illegally in my apartment now. What do you want?”

  “I’m not here as a cop. I’m here as a friend. What happened to you last night? You rushed over to Collins’s place, probably saved my life, shot him and now you’re out? After all the trouble you went through to butt in in the first place?”

  “You were right. Butting in brought me nothing but trouble and now I’m trying to take your advice. Is that so hard to believe?”

  He dodged her question and asked her one of his own. “When did you start having sleepovers with guys?”

  Sam jerked, taken aback by the question.

  Derek immediately realized that he sounded like a dick. “I meant—”

  “I didn’t realize you were interested.”

  “I didn’t realize there was a job opening.” Fuck. Not what he meant to say. “I didn’t come here to fight. I’m on my way to Bellevue Hospital right now. Did you want to see the woman you saved?”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “You’re going to talk to her now? Did you get a name?”

  “She just woke up this morning. I’m going to be the first one to take a statement.”

  She’d looked so excited at the prospect, he thought for sure she was going to grab a coat and come with him, but soon the shielded look was back in her eyes. “We can’t go.”

  “You can stay here if you want. I’m going right now.”

  “Don’t bother. You’re going to be called off the case.”

  “What? No, we need to determine if Collins was working alone. You said that in your vision-hallucination thing that there were two guys, right? So if this girl says—”

  “It doesn’t matter. By the end of the day, someone higher up the chain is going to call you off the case, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay back. Just go back to your desk for the rest of the day and keep your head down.”

  “Keep my—what? Who are you? What did you do with the girl I’ve been working with? For once, you don’t want to get involved and you’ve got strange guys over and I’ve never once seen you bring a guy home.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and kept her expression measured. “In case you forgot, I killed a guy last night. That’s enough to alter anyone’s views on getting involved where they don’t belong.”

  Derek stepped forward, shaking his head. “Oh no. I’ve killed men. I’ve been around plenty of people when they killed their first guy. You don’t have that look. No, you look....” It hit him like a punch to the face. “You’re scared of something. Someone. Tell me what’s going on and I can help you.”

  Sam let out a laugh and shook her head. “You are so thick. I know that the whole magic thing is hard for you to believe, but trust me. They are very powerful people. You need to back down. I’ll talk to the families and try to get whoever Tommy was working with taken care of, but there’s nothing more for you to do.”

  Magic. He thought back to the way Reyes went flying off the landing yesterday. The inexplicable pain that Tommy had shot into his body. If there were more guys who could do that, then he needed to be working more, not less.

  “I’m going to the hospital, Sam. You’re either in or out.”

  She let out a sigh. “Derek, just—”

  “You’re out.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I got it.” Derek was already stepping out in the hall when he heard her.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped, hand still on the doorknob.

  “The thing I gave you, the turtle....”

  “You want it back?”

  “No. You need it more than me. But, if they come for you, don’t let them know you have it. If they order you to do something, at least pretend to go along with it.”

  Derek frowned as he continued into the hall and down the stairs. Secret turtle. Great.

  Because he was a cop, Derek had been in the hospital more times than he was happy about. He knew where the emergency unit was. He knew where the administrative offices were, where the nurses took their smoking breaks, and he knew how to get behind the Do Not Enter doors without being noticed.

  So it was easy enough to find out where the girl was. Luckily this time he had an invitation from her doctors so he didn’t have to sneak by anyone. There was one unlucky uniformed officer outside her door who’d gotten to stay there all night.

  After he’d taken Sam back to the precinct, Collins’s apartment had been processed. It had been a treasure trove of evidence, with pictures and souvenirs of the women who were killed. If he could talk to his last victim and confirm that Collins was working alone, the case would be closed with a neat little blood-drenched bow.

  But after everything that had happened, he was starting to think that Sam’s visions were right on the money. And she was dead set against helping any longer, so that meant this witness might be his only option.

  He nodded to the cop on guard and stepped into the hospital room. Like all witnesses under guard, she had her own room. The girl looked to be the same age as the rest of the victims, so she was probably between eighteen and twenty-one.

  Her blonde hair looked dirty and greasy, but he had a feeling that if she hadn’t just been kidnapped and kept in a drugged stupor for days that she was a looker. But the worst thing he noticed was the uneven pace of her breaths. She was awake and pretending to be asleep. So she either had a phobia of hospitals or she’d gotten used to faking it when she was at Collins’s place.

  Derek glanced around the room and pulled the visitor’s chair out and took a seat. At least this way when she opened her eyes he wouldn’t be standing over her. Once he was seated, he took out the recorder in his pocket and turned it on. “I know you’re awake,” he said softly, once again trying to take away any sign that he was a threat.

  Her eyes snapped open, but she didn’t say anything. Just stared at the ceiling in silence.

  “I’m Detective Derek Pierce. We raided Tommy Collin’s apartment yesterday and pulled you out. Did the doctors tell yo
u what happened?”

  The girl turned her head to look at him. “They said I had enough drugs in my system to put down an elephant. They were surprised I wasn’t dead.”

  “You’re a survivor. Takes a lot to bring a survivor down.”

  She frowned. “Are you trying to flatter me?”

  “You know, this isn’t the first hospital bedside conversation I’ve had. And I gotta tell you, they never get less awkward.”

  The corner of her mouth hooked up. “An honest cop. Who knew?”

  “Well, it would be a lie if I said I was only here to check up on you.”

  “You want me to talk? To help you get this guy, Tommy something, locked up?”

  “Not exactly. Tommy’s dead.”

  That got her attention. “He’s dead? Did you kill him?”

  “A fri— An associate of mine shot him six times.”

  She let out a deep breath. “Wow. That feels better than I thought it would.” She ran the sheets of the hospital bed through her fingers as she thought through the strange emotions that came from being happy someone was dead.

  Derek learned not to question that dark side of the mind that relished other people’s pain. Even the nicest person could be driven to want revenge, and he knew he wasn’t even close to being the nicest person.

  “I’m assuming you’re not just here to tell me that he’s dead?”

  “I’m trying to piece together what happened. Your help would go a long way to making sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you said the man who did this to me was dead?”

  Well, it didn’t sound like she knew of an accomplice. “Let’s go back to square one. What’s your name?” He pulled out a small notebook and pen from his pocket. The recorder would get all the essential information, but it usually made witnesses feel more comfortable when he wrote things down. A reason to break off eye contact and let them regroup. He would still be watching them intently, but subtly.

  She averted her gaze and he had a feeling it wasn’t an accident that she hadn’t given him or the doctors a name yet. “Umm... Claire Smith.”