The Witch Collector Part II

by Loretta Nyhan

  The apartment was quiet, without even the soft sounds of people sleeping and breathing. I padded barefoot down the back staircase and stepped into the chilly garden. After a moment’s hesitation, I shoved my ballet flats into my backpack. The cold numbing my toes made shoes tempting, but I could run faster in bare feet.

  The garage blocked most of the alley but offered access to it from two points, slim walkways, one on each side. I glanced around, searching for a ladder or something I could use to boost myself up onto the garage roof. Nothing. The wooden fence, unfortunately smooth and at least six feet tall, was my only option. Not much different than a tree, I told myself. Jumping up, I grabbed hold of the top of the fence and pulled myself up, reaching for the aluminum gutter to steady myself. Then I hooked a toe over the corner of the garage and hoisted myself up onto the roof, landing with a thud.

  Streetlights lit both ends of the alley, but since Dobra’s apartment was in the middle of the block, my view was obscured by shadows. The moon, watching from the sky, helped a little. I knew the moon had begun waning, but its fullness reminded me of the magic I felt standing in front of Belladonna’s. I wasn’t powerless. I had to remember that.

  I waited. No cars passed, and the faint sounds of the night lulled me into a hazy state. I was tired, so tired, but I couldn’t let that work against me. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to study the trees and trash cans and the strangely patterned roof tiles lying underneath me—anything to keep me awake.

  Then a sound, so subtly different, so strangely familiar, woke up my senses.

  Boots.

  We all wore them in the country. Brandon’s were thick-soled and heavy, and I knew the sound of his step anywhere.

  He walked down the middle of the alley, his gait sure and purposeful, the stride of a boy with nothing to hide. The light of the moon settled on his hair. He glanced up as if he sensed my presence, his mouth tugging into an easy grin.

  Brandon.

  I didn’t care why he showed up, just that he did. I slid off the roof, landing on the cement breezeway with a thud, and we lunged for each other. I held on to him for a long minute, tears falling down my face. He was my home. I clutched at him, feeling the familiar muscles in his arms, taking in his scent, trying to feel like I did in Oregon. Safe.

  Brandon ran his fingers through my hair, murmuring my name over and over. “I missed you so much,” he whispered. “So, so much.”

  “I missed you, too,” I said. And then I remembered. “Where were you today? Why did it take you so long to get here?” I demanded, feeling a sharp spike of anger. “My parents are missing. Do you know where they are? They’ve been gone two days, Brandon. Two days.”

  “Listen,” he said, stepping back so he could look at me directly. “You’re not safe. I don’t understand everything that’s going on, but I can tell you this—my dad is in Chicago and he’s after you for some reason.”

  To hear this from Brandon sent a shiver of fear up my spine. It was real. “Did Gavin take my parents?”

  “I don’t know what happened to your mom and dad,” Brandon said. “I’m sorry—I wish I did.”

  The news brought fresh tears. I brushed them away before they fell. “I need to find them,” I said. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

  “I knew something was wrong before Greta died,” Brandon began. “My dad was acting short-tempered and agitated. He often asked me if I’d heard from you since I’d gone to Seaside. I thought it might be a trick—we weren’t supposed to have contact with anyone, so I never told him that you had been calling. I thought I was going to get special training, but he ignored me, singling out Greta instead. She stopped eating with us, or hanging out. We hadn’t seen her for days when we found out she’d died. The morning after her funeral, Dad called a meeting. He didn’t want us worrying we would catch her illness. He wanted us to feel safe. But something definitely wasn’t right. Later, when I found him in his room to press him about what had happened, he was packing.”

  I swallowed. “We’d already left.”

  “He said your parents had stolen something valuable from him, and that he had to get it back. He said you were caught in the middle and he was worried about you.” Brandon moved closer. “I knew the valuable thing was you,” he said, and caressed the side of my face. “What is it, Bree?”

  Part of me burned with the need to tell him. But still, I hesitated. Miro said I should trust my instincts, and something was holding me back. I placed my hand over my heart, where my talisman should lie. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Brandon couldn’t hide his disappointment. “I followed my father here because I was worried for you. Something changed in him out at the Seaside training center.”

  “Black magic?” I whispered.

  Brandon flinched. “I think so.”

  My heart hammered in my chest. “Do you think he’s hurt my parents?”

  “I don’t know,” Brandon admitted. “It’s hard to think of my dad hurting anyone, but I feel really confused about what’s happening with him. I’ve looked all over the city today trying to find him. I had some leads. I tracked down an old friend of his who lives in a far suburb. He said my mother had returned to Chicago.” Brandon leaned back against the garage. I saw only pain in his clear, blue eyes.

  “Is that what you were doing today? Looking for her?”

  He nodded. “This friend had a photograph of her. She’s so beautiful. I always thought I had a clear picture of her in my mind’s eye, but I never did. Not anything accurate. It was like looking at a stranger.”

  I pressed closer to him. Brandon had never discussed his mother. She’d broken the oath with Gavin, and was off-limits, even for her son. “It can’t be a coincidence that she’s here,” I said. “Should we be looking for both of them?” My heart sank at the thought. Two powerful witches against the newly transitioned? What chance did we have?

  Brandon shrugged. “I guess it would make sense, but where do we start?”

  We fell into contemplative silence. When it was clear neither of us had any ideas, Brandon said, “I followed my father here, but he had a head start and is more familiar with the city than I am. I’m not sure where he is, or who he’s with.” He gestured toward Dobra’s building. “Who are you staying with? Are they friends of your parents? Are they protecting you?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that. If I said yes, then I’d involved them all. If I said no, then I had to admit to myself how vulnerable I was. I didn’t even know if I could trust Brandon’s kind, familiar face. Could I trust him based on what we had out in Oregon, or had he changed just as much as Gavin? He said he followed us across the country because he was worried, but what if that wasn’t true? Could he share my entire life and then betray me so easily? I hoped not.

  “They’re just people I met,” I said, watching his eyes.

  He slid his hands in mine. “Then come with me. My father is very powerful. You and I will be safer together. We’ll also find your parents faster if we work as a team.”

  Would we?

  “When you get your magic, I can help you. Let me show you.”

  Brandon stood and slid his hand inside his shirt, grasping what could only be a talisman. I held my breath, preparing myself.

  A light flickered between us, a disembodied candle flicking in the wind. “You have your father’s gift,” I marveled, smiling at him. “I thought maybe you were a tracker. How did you find me? A special spell?”

  The light extinguished. Brandon looked down the alley behind me, his features contorting with fear. “Demon,” he said in a fierce whisper. “Run, Breeda.”

  He grabbed at my hand, but my feet stayed rooted in place. The darkness in the alley lifted and I covered my eyes, blinded by the shock of sun on snow.

  “Can’t make up your mind?”

  Gavin’s voice made me jump. My sled teetered on the brim of the steep hill and I shoved my gloved hands in the snow, unwilling to take it over the edge. “It didn’t look this high fr
om down there.”

  “It never does,” he said, laughing. His voice was so loud. I started to sweat in my down-filled parka.

  “Everyone else headed for the milder drop,” he said. “You’re the only one who attempted this run.”

  “Maybe I’m just stupid,” I replied, then immediately wanted to take it back. He was up here, too. “Sorry. I meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” Gavin said. “But I think you’re wrong. Look down, Breeda.”

  The sun flashed brilliantly against the neon whiteness of the snow. The world below me sparkled with life: iced treetops and cottages and lakes that glistened like diamonds.

  “It’s all yours,” Gavin said, crouching next to me. “No reason to be afraid of it.”

  And then he smiled, placed his strong hands on my back, and pushed.

  The alley came back into focus, and the first clear thing I saw was Brandon stopping in his tracks and running back to me. “Hurry!” he screamed. He pulled at my arm and I stumbled after him, magic pulsing angrily in my lungs.

  At the end of the alley, I snuck a look behind us. A shadowed figure advanced, eyes glinting in the moonlight. As it grew closer I saw the silver chains loosely circling its neck. Another figure, shorter and with dark hair spiking from its head, walked behind him.

  “Wait!” I tried to yell, but the magic buried my voice. Brandon tore down the block, assuming I was right behind him. My limbs felt like jelly, and I fell to my knees on the unforgiving cement.

  Evie approached me, tugging hard on the demon’s chains so I stayed just outside his reach. He writhed and pushed toward me, and I heard the sound of burning flesh. That, combined with the aftereffects of Brandon’s magic, set my head spinning. I bent over the sidewalk, retching.

  “Nice,” Evie said drily. “It’s no wonder you’re so popular.”

  Chapter 4

  Evie tied the squirming demon to a telephone pole, then half dragged me back to Dobra’s garden. While I slumped against the fire pit, trying to control the magic wreaking havoc in my system, she picked up a gardening tool. “Copper,” she sighed, rubbing at her arms with it. “So much better than protected silver. It feels great, like a deep-tissue massage. One of the few perks of alchemy.”

  “Why did you bring the demon?” I asked, still breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?”

  “Like a fox,” she said. “I was going to destroy him, but then I figured he probably wasn’t bewitched anymore, so he’d be hell-bent on killing the witch who bewitched him in the first place.”

  “So the demon is your bloodhound.”

  Evie smiled. “You have my sense of humor,” she said. “But yes, I thought he might be. Obviously, he’s still after you, though, so we’ve got to wait it out.”

  “Because you don’t have any better ideas yet for finding my parents.”

  Evie narrowed her eyes, studying me. “I’ve always got ideas, niece. It’s just a matter of picking through the best ones. How about you? Transition’s not going all that well, is it?”

  “It’s getting . . . better,” I replied. “I’ve found someone who can help me train to control my magic.”

  “Seriously? Who?”

  “Dobra’s son. He lives here.”

  “Well, he obviously knows what he’s doing,” she snapped, glancing at my neck. “A witch should never be without a talisman, especially during the transition.”

  “It’s not Miro’s fault I don’t have one on.”

  “Is this Miro the boy I just saw you with? The sprinter?”

  “No, that was Brandon,” I answered. “Gavin’s son. He freaked when he saw the demon.”

  “Well, he’s smart; I’ll give him that,” Evie said. She put her feet up on the low wall next to me, and whistled. “That family certainly gets around.”

  I sat forward, sending a stabbing pain through my lungs. “What did you find out about Gavin?”

  “My contact swears he’s in the city and I have no reason to doubt her. Others have heard of his arrival, too. The rumor mill is working overtime, so it’s hard to tell what’s true beyond that,” she explained. “Okay, your turn. What’s his kid really doing here?”

  “He says he followed his father, to protect me. He’s my . . . boyfriend.” I knew how lame it sounded as it left my tongue. I hoped she could only dimly see the blush crawling up my face and neck.

  “Do you believe him?” was all she said.

  I thought about Brandon standing next to me in the alley, shyly presenting his newly acquired gift of light. His eyes were clear and blue and showed not even a shadow of falseness.

  “I think so.”

  Evie smiled wryly. “Good enough for now,” she said, rising with outstretched hands. “Let’s bring you to my shop until we find a more suitable place to stay.”

  I thought of spending the night trapped inside her shop with a demon. No way. “Brandon will come back to get me,” I insisted, staying put. “I can sleep here until he does.”

  She crouched beside me. “When you gave me this address, I did some asking around. These are not people you want to associate with. I know you think they’re your friends, but I told you, you don’t have any friends.”

  “I have to trust someone.”

  “Not these people,” Evie said.

  “They’ve been good to me.”

  She moved closer still, grabbing my chin so I had to look her in the eye. “I know your mother told you that being a witch was all sweetness and light, but that’s not true for most of us. We are as tempestuous as nature herself. Everything is heightened for a witch, and not just during the transition. Fear, anger, lust, greed—they’re all there and they cause big frickin’ problems, niece. Being a witch is about survival. They hid that from you in your hippie-witchy commune, but did you ever wonder how your parents kept bread on the table?”

  Thinking about it, it was ridiculous I’d never asked. Gavin provided everything we needed. Why hadn’t I ever questioned how we lived?

  She looked at me intently. “You never thought about it before, but you’re wondering now, aren’t you? Your mother destroyed our coven and took its future away. You.”

  “Me?”

  “There weren’t any Soledads left besides us. When Lupe got pregnant I figured we had a future. And then when you were born—”

  “I had no marks. I disappointed you.” Sadness brought emotion to my ravaged throat.

  Evie’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “No, that’s not it at all. I thought you were like me—different. I thought our line had simply moved on to better things. Your mother wanted to fix you. I never did.”

  That stung. My mom did fix things. She attacked problems with a ferocity my dad and I always admired but couldn’t replicate. Did she finally come up against something unsolvable with me? I couldn’t remember her ever giving up on even the simplest challenges. She worked at it, jabbed at it, beat it to the ground. Was that why she believed in Gavin, probably for way longer than she should?

  And . . . did everyone’s problems stem from me?

  I was so lost in thought I didn’t notice Evie until she bent over and hooked her strong arms underneath my body. With a grunt she lifted me to my feet.

  “We’re going to catch a cab back to my shop,” she said. “Come on. No sleeping outside on a stranger’s ceremony pit. You’ll get ashes stuck in your lungs.”

  “Seriously, Aunt Evie, I’m not going.” As best I could, I dug my bare feet into the hard soil.

  “I’m stronger than you, kid,” she muttered. “Cut it out.”

  “Is it really a good idea to leave that demon in the alley?” I said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Evie’s features hardened into an angry mask. She grabbed my arm again. “You are a Soledad,” she said forcefully. “You don’t belong here. I won’t take no for an answer.” Her grip tightened.

  I saw the shovel before she did.

  Chapter 5

  There wasn’t time to shout, or even think. I felt a rush—and the
branch leaning against the fire pit rose to block the shovel, the two smacking against each other in the crisp night air.

  “I don’t know if I can hold it,” I breathed.

  “You don’t need to,” Evie said.

  The shovel cracked the branch in two and hurtled end over end toward Evie’s head. She drew her hands over her face, touching the piercings at her eyebrows, nose, and ears. The shovel quivered and then began to melt, the metal dripping onto the dirt next to me. It pooled into a bubbling mix of steel and copper, and slowly sank into the earth. Evie shouted something to me, but I was sinking into the vision and could only hear the wind.

  “Take a handful of it,” my mother said, passing me a bowl filled with sea salt. “Make a casting circle around your body. Try to spread the salt evenly.”

  My body was small, so it didn’t take much salt to create my circle. Still, the grass made it hard to see how much I was spilling.

  “Is it complete?” my mom asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  She smiled. “You will.”

  I dropped a few more grains of salt. The circle rose, shimmering in the sunlight. I’d drawn hundreds of casting circles for simple spells, but those were simply chalk lines on the ground. This one was different.

  “Nature is holding your magic for you, until it’s your time,” my mom explained. “But until your magic comes, I cast this circle to protect you.”

  I watched it waver before it fell back onto the lawn. “What happens when the magic comes?”

  She shrugged. “Then it’s up to you.”

  Miro’s voice brought me back to the present.

  “We’ll have to dig that spot up,” he shouted as he came around one side of the garage. He shot Evie a savage look. “I suppose this is the alchemist.”

  “What are you doing?” I said, my voice grating like sandpaper in my throat. “You could have killed her!”

  Evie moved around the fire pit, her eyes trained on Miro like a wildcat trying to decide exactly which way she wanted to torture her prey before moving in for the kill.