Witch Eyes

by Scott Tracey

  Gregory turned a sly glance at Trey. “Your little friend doesn’t know what happened, does he?”

  The muscles in Trey’s jaw flexed. “C’mon Braden, let’s find your book.”

  I was liking the situation even less. “Tell me now.”

  Trey sighed. “Jason hired an outsider, a few years ago. The terms of their cease-fire stopped my mother from interfering directly. So she hired someone as well. It stirred up a lot of chaos.”

  “And the witches?”

  Trey looked away again. “They died.”

  “Don’t know that I’d call it dying, exactly,” Gregory said, his voice thoughtful. “No one ever saw them again. Hard to say what happened to them.”

  “Fantastic,” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “And you get mad at me for not wanting to get involved with them?”

  Trey turned toward me then, his face flushed. “That won’t happen to you. I’ll make sure of it.”

  I waved him off and started investigating the stacks for myself. Gregory hadn’t given me a straight answer about the book one way or the other, but if it was here, I’d find it.

  “Do you want some help?” Trey asked. He was hovering near Gregory on the far side of the room. Either giving me space, or quietly chewing Gregory a new ass. It didn’t make a difference to me either way.

  Already, I’d found a couple of new texts. Different books than ones I’d seen before. “I don’t need help,” I said absently. “I’m fine.”

  Trey snorted. The lighting in the store sucked, and though I tried squinting to get a better look, it was near impossible to read some or all of the titles. I wasn’t asking him for help. No way. “Got it,” I said, plucking the notebook from the shelves. It was partly a grimoire of spells, and partly a description of everything the witch had encountered in the supernatural world. And it was the only thing I’d ever seen on hellhounds.

  “That’s it?” Trey asked, as I crossed the room.

  I nodded. “There’s a few others I wanted to pick up. Spells I’d never seen before. But I wouldn’t know how useful they are until I’d ripped through them all anyway.”

  “Sounds like Jason,” Gregory wheezed with a shake of the head. My head shot up, and Gregory stared me down. He doesn’t know anything, I kept repeating to myself. “Never was much of a fan. He used to say the same things when he came in here. Thankfully, I banned his ass years ago. Catherine, on the other hand, now there’s a looker.”

  “That’s my mother,” Trey reminded him quietly, an edge to his voice.

  “Wasn’t always your mother, was she?” Gregory’s tone was all conversation now. “I’ll put it on your tab, Gentry. I figure he’ll be on the payroll soon enough anyway.”

  They were talking about me like I wasn’t there. “Don’t think you know me. You don’t have a clue.” I wasn’t a weapon. I wouldn’t get sucked in.

  Since Gregory wasn’t charging us, I took the Grimoire and hit the stairs. The owner’s voice chimed in behind me.

  “Might want to be careful, Gentry. Don’t think the leash will fit this one.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  “Are we going to talk about this?”

  They hire witches to fight for them. They’d done it at least once before, and they killed each other. There wasn’t a whole lot to talk about. “Aren’t you going to show me the recruitment package?” I said in an even tone. “I probably have some cavities, so the dental insurance better be killer.”

  Trey jogged in front of me, crossing his arms. “If you’re going to ask me what happened, then just ask. Don’t play stupid with me. You’re not.”

  “So tell me what happened, then. Was Gregory exaggerating?”

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t as scandalous as he makes it sound.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “So, your mother and her arch-nemesis didn’t hire out a pair of mercenaries who apparently blew themselves up?”

  “My mother hired her like any other employee. The girl just turned up on our doorstep—what was she supposed to do?”

  “Makes perfect sense to me,” I snapped.

  “She said they weren’t strong, either of them. Nothing to worry about.” He swallowed, his eyes far away. “Something happened. No one’s sure what. By the time anyone knew there was trouble, a storm had blown in off the coast. It knocked out the power, and smashed into the city. When she sent people out in the morning to find out what happened, there wasn’t anything left.”

  “Maybe they got smart and booked it out of town?”

  Trey shook his head. “Too easy. Carmen’s contract with my mother was mystical. She knew where Carmen was all the time. She was just gone.”

  “They blew each other up? Is that what you think?” I posed the question, and then answered it before he could. “You do, don’t you? But if your mother said they weren’t that strong, they couldn’t have. I don’t even know if I could blow someone up.”

  Trey looked troubled, though he didn’t say anything. I saw the tension furrowing between his eyebrows, and the way his jaw flexed and unflexed.

  “Why come here in the first place, then? Money? If Jason’s so powerful, wouldn’t your mom have known better?”

  “She didn’t go looking,” Trey said. “Carmen came to her. The same way I think the other one came to Jason.”

  I thought that over for a second. “Like someone sent them in this direction. You think there was some sort of plot involved?” I saw Trey’s nod, and knew we were on the same page. For once.

  “My turn to run an errand.” Trey glanced at his watch. “It won’t take long. You mind?”

  I shook my head and Trey squeezed my hand. “It’ll be fine,” he tried to assure me. Too bad it wasn’t working.

  The trip through town wasn’t far. In fact, it was only a couple blocks before I saw the high school looming out in front of us. How much did I miss yesterday? How much trouble was I in? I glanced at Trey, but the truck never slowed until we were past the high school.

  Trey parked in the street in front of a small restaurant. The name was simple. Cay’s. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave an immediate view of the interior, which seemed to be done in a lot of green and gold.

  “You’re taking me out to lunch?” I laughed.

  Trey shrugged, hopping out of the car. As we walked inside, I noticed the hours of operation were for late afternoon and evening only. We were still several hours early to get a table.

  Besides the gold and green, the only other colors evident were the dark-stained oak tables and chairs, and splashes of white lighting fixtures for ambiance. The layout was complex, with wooden booths arranged chaotically to create smaller nooks and crannies. There were few straight lines in the whole restaurant; everything was turned on an angle and shifted out of the way. Something about the design was familiar.

  I closed my eyes while Trey chatted with what I presumed was the manager. He was behind the bar with a clipboard. While he was busy, I tried to figure out what was bugging me about the design.

  I pictured the restaurant as far as I could see it. Stripped away the tables, the chairs, and pictured the lines. Everything was split up, the lines broken and twisted across the entire room. It was almost like someone was trying to break up … wait. Was it that simple, that the restaurant was designed to break up any magical acts in the area?

  It was possible, as far as I could tell. Magical architecture was never something that interested me, the way that the flood of magic could conform to geometry. Something like this took way too long to plan and execute for me.

  Trey came back a few minutes later, while I was still looking around curiously. “It’ll only take a minute,” he said, resting an arm on my shoulder. “My mom needed to see me.”

  It was like my body went numb all at once. Bad idea, bad bad idea. “I’ll just
wait outside then.” I tried for casual. It wasn’t as embarrassing as fear. This was not a meet-the-parents kind of situation.

  “Don’t worry about it so much.” Trey grinned, rubbing my shoulder. “She’s going to love you.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” A part of me was dying to find out a little more about Catherine Lansing. I just wasn’t willing to actually die to find out.

  He leaned his head down, and all conscious thought left as our lips met. The kiss didn’t even have a chance to deepen before an annoyed huff and a glacial voice chimed in.

  “When you’re done molesting the townie, I need to speak with you, Gentry. If it’s not too much trouble.”

  I pulled away quickly at the sound, my body going from numb to painfully freezing cold. In front of us was a tall woman, with Trey’s blonde hair and Jade’s classic beauty. Dressed in white and gold, she looked every bit as powerful as people in town claimed.

  Catherine didn’t even look my way; her eyes were for Trey alone. The snub was clear and to the point. She thought I was just some local, so I wasn’t worth her attention.

  Realizing that actually made the situation easier. She doesn’t know who I am. My lungs began to work again, and the rushing in my ears died down. Underneath the sheer terror, there were still epic levels of panic, though.

  This was her: the woman who would have killed Uncle John—and had already tried to kill me once.

  I didn’t want to kill her, the way everyone else seemed to want. But I had to stop her somehow. Not to mention, I had to keep Trey from finding out who I was for as long as possible.

  Whoever said teenagers had it easy didn’t really think that one through.

  Twenty-One

  “This is Braden.” Trey’s tone was calm, maybe even a bit forceful. I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the frosty reception.

  “I don’t need to know his name, Gentry,” his mother chided, her voice somehow managing to get even colder.

  “I think you do,” Trey replied, matching her ice for ice.

  I dug my fingers into his hand, but he didn’t react. And worse, he kept talking. “Braden and his uncle just moved here,” he said. “Lucien Fallon led him to some sort of trap in the cemetery the other night. Gregory mentioned you paid him a visit, so you obviously know about it.”

  “You work quickly, son.” A moment of surprise turned to approval in her eyes. She nodded to Trey, eyebrows rising. “I wanted a look at the new witchling in town, and you bring him to my door.” She turned to me then, extending her hand. “You weren’t quite what I was expecting, were you? I’ve heard interesting things about you and your work. Braden, was it?”

  I glanced sideways at Trey, but his focus was on his mother and not on me. I couldn’t believe he’d done this to me, brought me here and basically told her all about me.

  “Braden Michaels.” I didn’t bother trying to shake her hand. I was trying not to tremble. This woman had changed my life, and now she was acting like she didn’t have any idea what she’d done.

  Catherine tapped a finger against her lips, slowly withdrawing her hand though she continued to watch me with curiosity. “Interesting,” she mused. “I apologize. My son is not one to be so indiscrete. I should have had more faith in him.”

  Something’s not right here. This wasn’t the way I expected our first encounter to happen. My gut was telling me that this wasn’t a woman who’d put out some sort of hit on me only a few days ago.

  “Obviously I was on top of things, Mother.” My head whipped around. He made it sound like I was just some pet project he’d been working on. Keeping tabs on the witch. “I only found out a few nights ago.”

  Catherine was too busy watching me now to even look at her son. It was more than enough to make me shift on my feet, looking anywhere but into her ice blue eyes. “Yet you know how important it is that some things not be put off, my dear.”

  Trey nodded his head quickly. “Of course. But I think the extenuating circumstances alter things slightly.”

  “Mrs. Lansing,” I said, raising my voice. “I don’t know what it is you think you want with me, but I’m not interested. I’m not here to get in the middle of some family problem.”

  “Yet you’re involved with my son,” she pointed out. “By that simple fact, you’re already in the middle. Or have I mistaken things?” She was enjoying this. Like the spider watching the fly struggle on the web.

  “You haven’t,” Trey said. “But I’m not going to let Jason get his hands on Braden. Besides, Thorpe can’t offer him anything that would make him turn against me.”

  “Do you always wear sunglasses indoors, Braden?” she asked mildly. “I would have thought your family would have explained the etiquette behind such decisions. Much like wearing hats indoors.”

  “He has an eye condition,” Trey answered automatically. I was surprised at the lie. Trey knew the truth. “I think Jade called it photophobia. Right?” He prodded me with his fingers, avoiding eye contact.

  “I was born with it.” On the other hand, I lied more smoothly. I’d had enough practice. “There’s not really much I can do with it. No treatment, no drugs really do much for me. Just heavy-duty sunglasses.”

  “I see.” Catherine seemed to buy it. I hoped she did. A sudden memory of Grace Lansing, and she might start asking questions I couldn’t answer. The woman didn’t get where she was by being stupid. It was only a matter of time.

  “If there’s nothing else, I should get Braden home. He’s got some homework to catch up on.” Trey was already slipping his hand into mine, a sign of solidarity between the two of us. “And I have an exam on Tuesday to prepare for.”

  “Hmm.” Catherine didn’t look entirely mollified, and I was sure she knew something. “Bring him to the house tomorrow night. We’ll have a dinner party.” I could see the calculation in her eyes; I just didn’t know what it was leading to. A show of support to her son? I didn’t think so.

  If I thought he would argue, I was in for a losing battle. “Of course,” Trey said, steering me toward the door. But my mind was spinning. Dinner? With the entire Lansing family? A full meal where they could poke and prod at me, trying to uncover my secrets? Worse, they’d be expecting answers about our relationship and, in Jade’s case, details.

  Somehow, things had gone from bad to worse.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  “I lied to my mother.” Trey’s voice was filled with shock. The restaurant wasn’t far from the hotel, but even the few minutes of driving were impossible to fill with idle chatter. Or serious conversation. I squirmed in my seat, unable to find a good position while Trey’s tapping the steering wheel only got more erratic the further we got.

  “I lied to her about you. She wouldn’t have understood,” he went on to say. “She gets … paranoid, sometimes.”

  “What would she do? Try and have me killed?” The sarcasm was lost on him, though, but it reminded me of the weird vibe I’d gotten in the restaurant. If Catherine hadn’t been the one trying to kill me, then who? Jason?

  “She’d see you as a threat. She’s very big on the Lansing ideal. That power is our legacy, and what you can do … she’d see it as some sort of threat. At least until I can explain it to her.”

  “How do you know about it, anyway? I thought it was just some old legend not many people had heard of?”

  Trey nodded. “Not many do. But my dad’s always been fascinated by the Lansing family, and the legends associated with them. He’s not like my mom, but he knows what she can do. He probably knows more about the Lansings than anyone else in Belle Dam, my mom included.”

  He dropped me off a few minutes later, and I nearly leapt from the truck in order to put some distance on everything that had happened so far. Catherine knew about me now. Trey had acted like I was some sort of assignment. And I didn’t have any idea who wa
s really out to get me.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  “C’mon John, call me back.” I was sitting in my room, staring at the cell phone I’d set carefully on the bed. After Trey dropped me off, I’d spent time reading through the grimoire, but nothing in there was any help.

  I’d called Uncle John three times almost fifteen minutes ago, and still nothing. He hadn’t picked up, but the voice mail hadn’t clicked on either.

  Trey and I were meeting up later; I still wasn’t sure why. He seemed to think I’d need help in dealing with the hellhound. When really, I was thinking he would just be in danger. The whole thing was just too much to worry about. So I focused on the hellhound. I ran through different ideas—spells I could try to slow the thing down. I’d never heard of anyone successfully stopping a hellhound—usually, when they accomplished whatever they set out to do, they went back where they came from. The grimoire confirmed it.

  My phone lit up, and I exhaled in relief. It was about time.

  “I need to know everything you know about hellhounds.” No time for hellos.

  “Why? What’s happened? Is there a hound after you?” John’s voice went instantly alert. “Did Catherine find out who you are?”

  I explained the situation as quickly as I could—about the cemetery, and summoning Grace, and what happened next.

  “What were you thinking?” he snapped when I was done. “You know better than to go trying something like that.”

  “Well, maybe if someone would tell me something instead of playing games with me, I wouldn’t have had to.”

  John started muttering. I don’t think he was even talking to me. “This was all a mistake. He’s in over his head.”

  “John! I need to know anything you know. These things are going to kill people if they don’t find me.”

  “Give them a target,” he said abruptly. “If you’re the one who summoned them, they’ll have to listen. Otherwise they’re going to come after you instead.”

  I must not have heard him correctly. There had to be some mistake. Sending them after someone else was like signing their death warrant. I couldn’t order someone’s death! “You’re crazy! I’m not sending them after someone else!”