Witch in Time: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 6)

by Sami Valentine

Red pulled him from his seat to take cover. The chaos forced them against a wall. Guarding Basil, she pulled out her revolver from her belted hunter’s kit. She had enough bullets for one reload.

  Gary O’Sullivan walked into the center of the octagon in a white tuxedo and top hat. A rapturous expression on his face, he lifted a burned skull.

  Gold leaf adorned the empty eye sockets. The ghoulish relic was a black hole, drawing magic into its void. Red’s mother’s ring felt lifeless, as if someone had slapped cold iron cuffs on her.

  He’d found the ultimate weapon. The alchemists were mere humans now.

  Basil raised his hands. “I-I can’t curse him.”

  “Run.” She pushed him toward the fleet of carts in the tunnel. They’d hitch a ride or steal one.

  Gleefully, Gary pointed to Red. “It’s Novak’s bookkeeper. Make sure you get her head. I should send it back. He’ll need it for his quarterly taxes.”

  Red managed to stake two but didn’t see the one who grabbed her neck and twisted.

  Time Loop #85 – July 3, Hours Before Dawn, Las Vegas, Nevada

  Dragged into Gary O’Sullivan’s office by two goons, Red hid her smile.

  They were doing her a favor. Breaking and entering would take too long.

  The Supreme of Las Vegas was a slight man; his paper-strewn desk should have dwarfed him. Even sitting, he seemed taller than he was. His presence contrasted with his odd outfit of a feathered tricornered hat and a Raiders football jersey. The lights of Fremont Street glimmered in the window behind him.

  “Outstanding haul, fellas.” Gary smiled, beady eyes bright. He lifted a hand in dismissal. “Now, beat feet.”

  Released, Red rubbed the bruises on her arms. This wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best she could come up with at 3 a.m. She’d woken up this early in the loop only once before. Who knew if she would again?

  Mismatched clocks reminded her of that fact, ticking from every wall, competing with the ambient noise of the Turquoise Mine casino below.

  Gary removed his hat with a flourish. “Should have kept your keister home, kid.”

  She strode to the Supreme as if she had an appointment instead of being brought for lunch. “I’m on a deadline, Gary. I’m hoping you can help me.”

  Lifting his eyebrows, he crossed his arms. Surprised amusement twisted his mouth. For all he knew, he had every reason to chuckle, locked in a fortress with anti-magic warding sigils creating a constellation on his office ceiling. He studied her face, delight dimming at what he found. “Is it to save you, queenie? Because you’ve been grossly misinformed about how damsels are treated in my kingdom.”

  “Oh no, your representatives made my fate clear. Expert-level menacing.”

  Gary snorted, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve tickled my curiosity.”

  The so-called Mad Supreme radiated lucidity now. He’d certainly hammed up the eccentric linguistics more for Kristoff. How much of his reputation was an act? Then again, it wasn’t exactly sane to take on the academy. Las Vegas might fall, but her sister academies would rally in revenge.

  He asked, “What can I do for you?”

  “That’s kind of you, Gary.” Red perched on the corner of his desk, breaking the laws of common sense and vampire etiquette.

  A business card amid the piles of papers stole her attention. Uriel & Sons Corp: Rare & Exotic Imports was embossed on it. That was a firm connected to the Bethesda Group.

  She picked up the card. “So, how do you know these guys? Did they sell you the Skull of St. Benedict, or did you order that online?”

  Like an angel’s warning, instinct made her jump away.

  He stood. The rolling chair toppled from the force.

  “I told the Gendarme you had it here,” Red said cheerfully. It was a guess, but he’d need it this morning, even if he’d hidden it at another lair before. Would he keep it in the catacombs or in arm’s reach? It depended on how much he trusted his people and how many believed in his kamikaze mission. “Am I right?”

  Gary gripped her arms, suddenly eye to eye. His dark gaze glittered a demonic yellow. “When are they coming?”

  “I told them to give me fifteen minutes, but I don’t think they really listen to me. You know how they like to do things their way.” She squinted at his hand on her, tapping into her magic. The wards dampened her energy, but she could pull off her latest trick.

  Tiny flames ignited on his fingers.

  Hissing, he pushed her away, beating his burning hand on his puffy pants. “Novak sent you, didn’t he! He’s working with the alchemists to take my throne. I knew it!”

  “I’m a free agent of chaos.”

  Alarms shrieked. A red bulb blinked above the door, illuminating a Garfield the Cat clock. The phone rang on Gary’s desk, nearly bouncing from the desperation of the minions trying to reach him.

  “You’re remarkably blasé for a dead mage walking. I’m going to kill you now, you realize that? There is no rescue for you, doll face.”

  “Way ahead of you.” Running on bravado, Red grinned like she was the immortal one. It was only another reset for her. “You’ve got a tough choice. Release the skull to neutralize the alchemists or keep it closed to preserve your wards. To clarify, they brought unmagical weapons too.”

  A minion burst into the office with a Glock. “The catacombs were breached!”

  Gary sprinted to a locked corner cupboard, typing in a PIN code to retrieve an ornate iron reliquary. Empty eye sockets stared out at Red from the aged glass plates. He opened it and stole all the magic from the room.

  Red squinted at the cupboard safe. “You typed a nine and then a six, right? What was the next—four?”

  “Shoot her!”

  His minion didn’t hesitate.

  8

  Time Loop #86 – July 2, Sunset, California Arms Apartments, in Los Angeles, California

  Curled up on her side, Red yawned and stretched her legs, processing the last loop. How could she tell the Gendarme where the skull and its prison box were without revealing her conundrum?

  Foggy, she rubbed her knee. Why did she have jeans on?

  She bolted up in bed, reflected in a dresser mirror with a background of white walls. The mattress was bare except for the small throw blanket she sat on. This wasn’t the hotel suite at the Circe Casino. It was her cleared-out bedroom in Los Angeles.

  She investigated the living area of the apartment, stripped of all its personal touches. The prefabricated IKEA furniture and scattered boxes were in the same place as they had been on July 2. Scrambling for her phone on the side table, she read the time.

  Exactly when she’d woken up from her catnap before going to say goodbye to Lucas. She covered her mouth. A high-pitched sound, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, rattled her lungs.

  She wasn’t in Las Vegas! Was that a good thing?

  Vic walked out of his room. “Are you ready—You okay?”

  “Oh shit, Vic, I don’t even know anymore.” Red wiped her eyes and flopped on the couch. Why had the time statue spat her out here? How much farther away from home would she get? “Sit down, and please, believe me the first time.”

  He nodded and listened to the abridged version of her story, asking a few questions but mostly saying the word “fuck” with varying concerned inflections.

  “Then in that last loop,” she said. “O’Sullivan might as well have a nuclear bomb. If I could get my hands on it, maybe it could neutralize the statue too. That’s if the alchemists don’t hide—” She stopped herself mid-sentence as her stomach rumbled. She’d had a month of breakfasts, with the rare chance to grab fast food or gas station snacks later. Before she tried to save the day, there was something else she really wanted to do—dinner. “Let’s order from Old Shanghai.”

  “Awesome,” Vic said. “All this time travel made me hungry.”

  Red paced after she ordered through a phone app. “I got us the usual. Hmmm, maybe I should have gotten the moo shu pork. I guess it doesn’t matter
since I’m going to do this like a hundred times.”

  “No, you’re not,” Vic said. “You’re making progress.”

  “I’m making everything worse. I need to move forward, not back.”

  A knock interrupted his reply.

  “Delivery,” a voice called through the door. “It’s Bill.”

  Red smiled for the first time since she’d woken up. “You should answer the door.” She leaned against the island counter in the attached kitchen to watch.

  Bill nearly fell over when Vic, standing on his own feet, greeted him. Gobsmacked, he congratulated the hunter on his recovery. “I know it was a contactless delivery, but I had to see that you two were all right. Everyone back at the restaurant was worried when you two stopped ordering. This is the happy ending we hoped for.”

  Once he left, Red declared, “I think that was the highlight of this time loop.”

  Vic opened the takeout on the counter. “Ooh, they gave us free pity wontons again.”

  They ate in silence, digesting more than noodles.

  She texted Kristoff to say that she really missed him and if he had a break between meetings, she’d appreciate a call. It’d only been a day since they’d talked, but it felt like weeks to her. He was either asleep or unreachable in meetings on July 3.

  She couldn’t explain it in a message, but she tried to share the best thing she had learned so far. Making it sound like a lead she’d found, she told him about discovering her father’s name, Russell Goldberg, and the possibility of relatives in Newark.

  “While we’re in LA,” Vic said, “We should peek in Quinn’s old files. He might have found something else about this Bethesda Group before he…” The hunter wiped his lips with a napkin, muffling a sigh. “There might be something there.

  “It’s worth a look. Chuck didn’t know anything when I asked him in an early loop. I texted Lucas once, but it went off topic quickly…” She cringed.

  “Why didn’t you ever call him up to ask again?”

  “You’ll find out.” Red bagged up her leftover food for the road. “And on we march to destiny.”

  Reentering Quinn Investigations, Red walked to Lucas on a well-trod path. The déjà vu wasn’t because of the time loop; it had always dogged their relationship.

  Pale, perfect, and eternal, he waited for her as he had promised he would. Those magnetic gray eyes locked onto hers. The impish smile unfurled as he offered popcorn. “Peckish?” he asked, tossing the bag into the microwave on the coffee stand.

  “Your signature dish,” she said, unable to resist the return to a familiar script.

  “I just ate,” Vic said, “But our tale deserves popcorn just for the visual. Did Quinn ever talk about that job we did a few days before New Year’s? The warehouse in San Bernardino.”

  “Odd one, yeah?” Lucas furrowed his brow. “He kept mum about it. More than usual. Heard the news from you two. Never came up again.”

  “I don’t remember filing that case,” Red said. “Did you, Vic?”

  Lucas lifted his palms. “Hold your shock. I actually tried to. Found an address and notes in the carbon copies of his notepad; thought to stick it somewhere in a cabinet. Old man shredded it. Not just the pages, the entire pad.” He frowned. “Bloody unusual. I reckon it’s why I remembered. The man liked to pinch pennies with the office supplies.”

  “Huh,” Vic said. “Do you—”

  Red pointed at the microwave without looking. “The popcorn.”

  Lucas opened the door at the first hint of burning. He shook the bag, then put it back with a smile at her. “Might need another go to get it right.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she said, biting her lip.

  “So,” Vic said, eyes darting suspiciously between them. “Quinn nixed the file. Did he follow up on the case?”

  “Not that I could tell. Said it was above our—” Lucas cursed as the lights went out in the office.

  “Blown fuse,” Red said.

  Lucas nodded as if it was a question. “I’m sharing a grid with a power-hogging massage therapist. I still don’t understand what an infrared sauna is.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Vic said, trotting to a side room off the office. “I know where the box is downstairs.”

  Lucas smiled at Red once they were alone. “What’s so interesting about this old case?”

  Before, she would have told him everything. He’d been her first call when life got weird. She might have gone back in time, but not that far. “Might have a connection to one in Charm.”

  “Speaking of…” His sandalwood scent clouded her mind as he drew closer. “You found your past. What about your future?”

  She’d been mad the first time he’d asked. It was too on the nose even then. Now, it made her sad. “I don’t know.”

  “There is always a place for you at the agency with me. I know you have a mission right now, but I can wait.” Stroking her cheek, he ignited old memories, making them feel like yesterday. He leaned in to kiss her.

  She touched his chest, stopping him. “Why now?”

  Lucas pressed her fingers to his unbeating heart, expression open and earnest like a poet. “Had to before you walked out the door. I’ve lived long enough to know how rare second chances are.”

  Red glanced away yet couldn’t force her hand to move. “But why not months ago when that’s all I wanted to give you?” She hated the pleading note in her voice. “Why now? I’m happy now in Charm, so happy that I get scared I’ll mess it up.”

  He entwined their fingers. “I’m not asking you to move back. I just want to earn that second chance.”

  Drawing her hand back, she stepped away, face heating. A rogue tear rolled down her cheek. “When I met you, I’d never felt a connection like it. Losing my memories made everyone a stranger. Not you. I knew you from voice alone. Maybe it’s why I fell so fast for you. I thought we had something special.”

  “We do,” he said, sincere words squeezing at her heart as it twisted her head up. “I want to fight for it.”

  As if bespelled, she turned to him. The shadows sealed out the world, and it was only the two of them. Like before. They were timeless in that instant.

  Then the lights flipped on in the office, stealing the magic, revealing the distance between them.

  She wiped her cheek. “Why didn’t you before? Waiting until I moved on for maximum confusion?”

  Emerging from the side room into the office, Vic coughed awkwardly. “I fixed the lights. We should be going.”

  Red nodded, hugging herself as she followed him to the door.

  Lucas called after her, “Think about what I said.”

  The suggestion was a mistake. Reflection only annoyed her more. His words, in all the time loops, echoed in her head when she reset with a grumble. “What’s his deal?”

  Time Loop #87 – July 2, Sunset, California Arms Apartments, in Los Angeles, California

  Midway through their Chinese takeout, Vic asked, “So, you made it emphatically clear how little Lucas knew in the last cycle. Should we hightail it to Vegas then? I want to win that money. Join me. Have a little fun, blow off some steam. You knocked a last meal at Old Shanghai off the bucket list.”

  “That’s what Hannah said.” Red speared a water chestnut roughly with her fork. “Do something that I always wanted to do. Get wild.”

  “I’ll tell Lucas that we’re not stopping by.”

  Inspiration struck her like a thunderbolt, jolting her spine straight. She narrowed her eyes. “No, I think we will. I have other questions. There are some things I want to say to him, some things I always needed to.”

  Vic cursed into his noodles. “This is going to be socially awkward for me, isn’t it?”

  “You’ll want to wait in the van.”

  ---

  Red stomped into Quinn Investigations.

  Lucas stood by the microwave, holding an uncooked popcorn bag. “Peck—”

  “No, you can’t use that smile and those knowing looks with me a
nymore. Not after everything that happened.”

  He set the bag aside. “I’m sorry I left drinks with the gang early.”

  “Like I care about that.” She shook her head, waving a finger at him. “You don’t get to offer popcorn and kisses.”

  “Kisses?” He chuckled. “I haven’t even said hello.”

  “I know what you’re planning, mister, even if you haven’t planned it yet.”

  He joked, “You know me so well then?”

  His smile grated on her. Didn’t he know what he had planned? She balled her fists. “I thought I did once, but still, I’m dead certain on what could happen in the next ten minutes. This isn’t the train to Smoochville.”

  “Are you angry about what I might do or that I haven’t done it yet?”

  “Cockiness isn’t cute right now,” she said. “I accepted the radio silence from you after Delilah returned from Charm. I could imagine why and didn’t blame you. Silly me, I thought it was growth when we could all just drink without the drama last night. Then that parting shot when I left town.”

  “I’ve lost the plot on this, kitten.” Lucas lost his grin, patience wearing thin even as he spoke calmly. “You came here to yell at me about drama, but I didn’t finish my first word.”

  “True, but that’s this time. Not last time.” She groaned. Why was she the only one to remember? It was an ironic punishment for an amnesiac. “You look at me like you didn’t break my heart. This isn’t like last year when you could work me up to let me down. You know I have a boyfriend now.”

  Almost resigned, Lucas asked, “It’s Zach Sanchez, isn’t it? I should have known. He grew up to look like Valentino, didn’t he?”

  “Valentino?” The antique reference to a silent movie star didn’t throw Red as much as the idea that she was dating Zach. She didn’t mean to ask, but it slipped out anyway. “Didn’t Delilah tell you…what happened in Charm?”

  He shoved a hand in his pocket and scratched his temple with the other. “About your new boyfriend? No. You’d think she’d crow about that.”

  “Oh,” Red said, blushing.