Witchy Woman - Book 2 - The Necromancer

by Pamela M. Richter

Heather nodded, “Exactly what I noticed. Also, Omar has these big eyes that are almost black in color. This guy we saw tonight had real Asian eyes, with epicanthic folds. I could tell, even in side view, because the lids pooch out. You know, the lids that almost cover the eyes and make that upward slant. Omar doesn’t have that typical Chinese distinction. And besides, even though he was sitting in a chair, he didn’t seem as tall as Omar. Omar’s about six’ four or five. This guy appeared shorter.”

  “I got that impression too, now that you mention it,” Mike said. “He was careful not to turn and look at us, full face. I can’t be sure, but he didn’t have the same demeanor I noticed last night. Omar is commanding, domineering. This guy seemed more passive. I got the feeling that if it was Omar, he would have given us an arrogant, haughty stare.”

  Heather laughed. “Exactly. He could have turned, even if he was working, to look at us. It would have been more natural than completely ignoring two people who came to see him. We were only about twenty-five feet away from him. I think he was afraid to show himself fully and reveal that he’s just a manikin, posing for Omar. ”

  “This is serious,” Rod said. “If Omar has someone in his place, like a body double, that means he isn’t in the local vicinity. He might have left the islands altogether for some reason. If he was in Hawaii, he would just come home at night.”

  “Damn,” Heather said. “Doesn’t he have to be on parole, or monitored, and show up at certain times for the police while he’s out on bail?”

  “He might not have to for a couple of days. I don’t know how they schedule those things. He could be on the run, so he won’t be pronounced guilty on any of the charges and be sent to prison. If that’s true, he could be anywhere. We just have to find out if Michelle’s with him.”

  “Not voluntarily,” Heather said, “that’s for sure.

  “What about that private pilot that Omar uses?” Rod said. “The one who flew us to Kauai. What’s his name? Guy Thorner? If Omar left Oahu he couldn’t take a commercial flight, not while he’s out on bail, so maybe he would use one of Thorner’s private jets.”

  “I’ll call him first thing in the morning,” Heather said. “I only have his work number, and it’s after hours. His business is probably shut down for the night.”

  “Good,” Rod said. “If you haven’t heard from Michelle by morning, call me. I’ll take the Heroshi corporate jet and come out there. Also, you could call Professor Middleton and see what he thinks.”

  “Good idea,” Heather said. “Since he’s a professor of psychology maybe he’ll have some insight, because Michelle’s disappearance is just creepy. I have this awful feeling Omar abducted her. He’s really loony about Michelle.”

  “Yeah, it’s abnormal as hell,” Rod agreed. “Especially since she called twice to let you know when she would be home tonight.”

  Chapter 7

  Michelle’s breathing hitched and her nose twitched as something caustic, like ammonia, was placed beneath it. She blinked her eyes, but closed them again as they teared up at the burning fumes. As she jerked her head to the side, to get away from the corrosive odor, she heard voices.

  “She’s coming to.”

  Michelle opened her eyes and saw a dark haired woman who appeared to be Hawaiian holding a glass vial next to her face. Michelle couldn’t remember her name, but did recognize her.

  “Good.” A man’s voice. “Trade places with me, I need to speak to her.”

  Michelle gazed around, confused. She was lying along the plush back seat of a limousine. She saw the woman sitting across from her open the car door and get out of the vehicle.

  She felt bewildered, like cotton was stuffing her brain. Where was she? Why was she in this car? She tried to remember how she got here, but nothing came to her.

  She moved to sit up, alarmed, and felt that awful tingling you get when you’ve been in one position too long and your limbs aren’t supplied with enough blood. Her nerves were numb and felt dead. Gradually, as the blood flowed back, there was that dreadful prickling sensation. She tried to shake off her grogginess so she could figure out what was going on. She wanted to drift off, back to sleep, like her body kept insisting was imperative, but she fought the urge.

  Then her worst nightmare climbed into the back seat. Omar.

  “What happened?” Michelle asked, trying to mask her alarm. “Where am I?” She hated the pleased look on his face. Something awful was occurring and she had no idea what it was. One thing was imperative though. She had to get away.

  She sat up painfully and scooted over the seat as far away from Omar as she could go. She grabbed the door handle and jerked, but it was locked.

  “We’re just on a little trip,” Omar said soothingly, smiling his stunning smile, with his perfect white teeth. It was the smile that caused women to swoon. Michelle was immune.

  “Open the door, and I’ll go home,” Michelle said furiously, but she was starting to panic. This was totally outrageous. “Lucifer needs to be fed and I have to go to work in the morning.”

  “Look outside,” Omar said. “It is morning. Don’t worry about your cat or your job. Both have been taken care of.”

  Michelle looked out of tinted windows and saw he was right. The sun was shining brightly. They were on a busy city street she didn’t recognize. The car began moving. She looked for a street sign, to orient herself as the limousine shifted like a predatory shark through the traffic, but she didn’t see any. They were going too fast.

  “We’ll have a nice refreshing vacation and then I’ll take you home.” He frowned, and said forcefully, “Don’t make a fuss.”

  “A fuss?” Michelle said. “I’m going to scream bloody murder. Now let me out of this car.” She started pounding on the window with her fist and tried again to open the door.

  Omar snatched her arm away from the window, “You’ll do exactly what I tell you, and you will appear happy.”

  Michelle shook her head adamantly. “No way!”

  He sighed deeply, “Your brother Bobby lives at 805 Bush Street in San Francisco. Your parents are just a few blocks away, also in San Francisco. Rod Nakamura is in Tokyo, one of my favorite cities. I’ve spent a lot of time there and have lots of friends in the Tokyo area. And your best friend, Heather, well, we both know where she lives.”

  “You’re threatening me?” She heard her voice go up a few octaves.

  “I’m not threatening you,” Omar said ominously.

  Michelle got it. He was threatening the people closest to her.

  The car came to a stop.

  “Look outside,” Omar said. “We’re going into this building and you will appear happy and relaxed. And keep in mind, they think we’re married. Try to act like you like me.”

  “As if,” Michelle muttered, but knew she’d do exactly what he told her. She believed the warning that her friends and relatives would be in peril if she didn’t follow his orders.

  She couldn’t tell what kind of building it was. The car was parked right in front of a walkway leading to the entrance. It had glass doors but there was no sign proclaiming what was inside. She could see a lobby of some sort. Maybe it was a spa, hotel, or even an office building.

  Omar led her out of the car, holding her arm tightly against him as they went down the path toward the building. She felt a little wobbly as she moved with him, as though her body had forgotten how to walk. She stumbled a few times and realized that she had been asleep or passed out for quite some time. Her knees felt weak and her ankles trembled. She felt like she’d been starved she was so hungry, and her stomach growled. But the thirst was even worse. It felt like her tongue was attached to the roof of her mouth and there was no moisture when she cleared her throat and tried to swallow.

  The sun was strong as they moved toward the building, but the air was all wrong. It was dry and felt like it was evaporating all the moisture from her skin. She could feel the sun burning her scalp, even though her thick hair. Michelle was suddenly aware she wasn’t an
ywhere near the ocean. They weren’t in Hawaii or on any of the outer islands. This place felt like a desert.

  Omar steadied her and kept her from falling on her face when she stumbled once again. His arm and body where he had clamped her arm tight against his side felt hard as stone as he guided her through the doors and into the building. Inside it was freezing, like the air-conditioning continuously blasted frigid air. She noticed that the dark haired woman was following right behind them.

  They went across an enormous, elegant marble lobby to a long counter where a beautiful blond woman stood. She was the only person visible in the large space except for a few people sitting in chairs who seemed to be reading magazines or staring into space, waiting for an appointment.

  The woman at the counter smiled at them and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Satinov?”

  Michelle glanced up at Omar. He was using the charming smile. He had probably locked eyes with the receptionist. She was gazing at him with admiration—maybe adoration, already.

  “That’s right,” Omar said.

  “Your suite is all set up. The luggage arrived last night and has been unpacked for your stay.”

  “Excellent,” Omar said as she handed him keys and a brochure.

  “Where’s my purse,” Michelle said loudly. “I must have left it in the car.” She turned quickly and started back across the lobby toward the doors. She had to get away, get her cell phone out of her purse. It had been sitting right beside her in the car.

  Quick as a cat, Omar was after her and caught her arm, “Don’t bother about it, darling. The driver will bring it up to our room.” As he led her back to the counter his voice lowered and he whispered in her ear, “If you cause a scene here, there will be serious repercussions.”

  Michelle tried to unobtrusively take a brochure from a metal fixture on the counter to see just where they were and what kind of place this was, but Omar said, “You can use mine, darling.” He took the brochure from her hand and replaced it in its holder.

  “Take the elevator to the top floor,” the blond receptionist said, smiling brilliantly. “Best wishes for a happy outcome.”

  Now what did that mean, Michelle wondered, as they went and stood waiting in front of the elevator. Happy outcome?

  “You’ve kidnapped me,” Michelle said softly to Omar. “You are going to be in so much trouble. You’ll never get out of prison.”

  “No one will ever know,” Omar said.

  Michelle was really frightened. The only way no one would know was if she disappeared and couldn’t tell anyone—if she was dead. It sounded like Omar had no intention of ever taking her home. If she didn’t do what he told her, he really could harm her family or friends as punishment. She seriously thought of screaming anyway.

  There was a loud ding and the doors opened.

  She noticed Omar looking up, studying the upper four corners of the elevator as they got in. The doors slid closed. Then he nodded at Leilanie. Michelle had finally remembered the dark haired woman’s name. Leilanie, one of Omar’s witches.

  She watched Omar reach up and put a dark silk handkerchief over the camera lens located inside the top left corner of the elevator. Leilanie was reaching in her purse and quickly handed something to Omar.

  Michelle was startled when Leilanie practically dived behind her and grabbed both of her shoulders, turning her rapidly, so her back faced Omar. Leilanie was unexpectedly strong for such a short woman. Michelle didn’t have time to react because Omar whipped something at her neck that stung like a hornet bite.

  As she abruptly started to lose muscle control, and felt herself falling, losing consciousness and blacking out, Michelle heard Omar say, “She won’t remember a thing.”

  Omar carried Michelle down a brightly lit corridor. He looked down at her face, with the very white skin and thick black hair. Her coloring reminded him of the character in the movie Snow White that he’d seen as a child in China. Michelle’s closed eye lids hid the lustrous, almost yellow eyes, that so attracted him in the beginning, when he’d first seen her in Las Vegas. Really, they were a very light greenish color, with yellow specks. He’d once given her a bouquet of yellow roses, to match her eyes. Too bad she was so stubborn. They would have had a wonderful life together.

  His plans for Michelle went back several years, to the first time he’d seen her walking through a hotel lobby in Las Vegas. One of Omar’s unusual gifts was the ability to see auras around people with high energy. Michelle possessed an aura like none he’d ever seen before and he’d stopped dead, watching the beautiful tall woman move confidently into a conference room at the side of the lobby.

  The aura, or luminous halo, surrounding Michelle’s body was comprised of bright reds, oranges, pinks and a lot of sparkling white that drifted in undulations around her. He’d known immediately that she had great power, but she didn’t seem aware of that fact. She also didn’t seem to note that people stopped and stared, just because she was so lovely.

  This woman is naïve, Omar decided, as he drifted behind her and sneaked a look inside the conference room, where she was seated with several men, all in business suits. Whatever was happening in there, she seemed composed and confident. Omar knew he’d have to change that.

  That same night in Las Vegas, Omar began his campaign to weaken Michelle, so that she would eventually be under his control. It was the night he ordered Samson to assault her in her hotel room.

  Omar noted that she was still stubborn, despite his efforts, as he carried her down the hallway. Although she was easy to manipulate. Michelle was fiercely protective of the people in her circle of friends and relatives.

  He’d taken care that she wouldn’t be missed at work, leaving a text message from her own cell phone to her boss, Tom Mitsuto, that she had contracted the flu and would have to be absent for a few days.

  The cat, Lucifer, turned out to be an unexpected problem, though. Omar had directed Genelle, a witch in his Hawaiian coven, to go and feed the cat last night. He made a copy of Michelle’s key from the one in her purse and had it messengered to Genelle’s apartment. Later that night he got a stinging phone call. The cat attacked her the moment she went inside Michelle’s apartment.

  Genelle described how Lucifer jumped on her leg, bounded up it with his long sharp claws and scampered up her blouse to her shoulder. Then the cat practically cut her face to ribbons, growling and hissing the whole time. Genelle managed to grab the cat and throw it violently across the room. As she backed out the door, she saw Lucifer bound up and race toward her again, ready to anew the attack.

  Genelle was furious. She’d had to go to the hospital; he would have to pay for the necessary plastic surgery. Omar subdued her, with a lot of reassurances and a hefty chunk of cash, in addition to the plastic surgery fees, because Genelle threatened to have the cat declared a dangerous animal which should be euthanized. She warned Omar that she was going to call Hawaii Animal Control.

  Omar didn’t like Genelle much, so he appreciated how his former cat had reacted to a stranger entering Michelle’s apartment. He had trained Lucifer well. Now he had to figure out how to feed the feline. The cat was too valuable to let it starve. Besides, Michelle was fond of the little beast. She would never forgive him if it died of hunger and thirst.

  Omar was looking at room numbers as they went down the long hallway and nodded at Leilanie when they reached their suite. She opened the door with a key card and Omar walked through the entrance and a tastefully appointed living room to one of the bedrooms. He carefully lowered Michelle onto the large king sized bed and then turned and pressed a button on the wall next to the bed.

  Within a couple of minutes someone knocked discretely on the bedroom door and entered the room. He was wearing a lab coat, holding a notebook. He was short, slim, and sported a short goatee. “My name is Dr. Jacob Franz. I’ll be overseeing the whole procedure. I understand you want it done immediately. So I’ll need to ask you a few questions. It looks like your wife is sedated?”

  “Yes.
She was a little nervous,” Omar said. “She asked me to give her a Xanax so she could sleep through the whole thing. Hospitals make her anxious.”

  The sedative Omar had given Michelle was much more powerful than Xanax or a Valium. In fact, if the anesthesiologist was not attentive she could die on the table. Omar knew and he didn’t much care. Michelle would be a dangerous future liability. He decided to let fate make the choice. It was necessary to keep her quiet and unresisting. Sedating her with a strong opiate was the only option he’d had.

  “She hasn’t had anything to eat or drink in the last twelve hours?”

  “No, nothing,” Omar said.

  “Perhaps we should wait until the drug is out of her system,” Dr. Franz suggested.

  “I was assured she’d be fine by her doctor in Hawaii, and she said she just wanted to wake up after the procedure was done.”

  Dr. Franz looked like he intended to argue, and Omar stared him hard in the eyes. Time passed. Dr. Franz shook himself, feeling like he’d come out of a trance, and frowned. He couldn’t remember what he’d been upset about.

  He turned and looked at Leilanie. “You’re Michelle’s sister, I understand. You have not eaten or had anything to drink either in the last twelve hours?”

  Leilanie vowed that she hadn’t.

  Dr. Franz noted her answer in his notebook. He looked at Omar and smiled, “I can get started right away with your wife and Leilanie. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. In the meantime, as your wife goes through the harvest procedure, you will need to provide us with your, ah...”

  The doctor seemed to have trouble spitting it out, so Omar said, “seed?”

  “That’s right,” Dr. Franz said, nodding rapidly. “Your specimen. A nurse will be here in a little while to take it.”

  Dr. Franz handed Omar a glass collection vial. Omar noted that his name was already written on the side of the container.

  Omar felt like cackling and rubbing his palms together gleefully, but he restrained himself. His final aspiration was within his grasp.