I snatched up the gallon jug and braved the hallway leading to the living room.
This time, a real voice broke the silence. “Adriel?” The panicked growl in White Feather’s call was more obvious in real life than the whisper from the ring.
I charged forward. “White Feather! Vamps!” He had no way of knowing there were vamps afoot. I turned the corner, spear up, ready to defend him.
When White Feather used wind to search ahead for danger, it had a subtle caress. I was expecting it, but unfortunately for both of us, he was moving with his wind, not trailing along behind it.
“Mmmooof.” The breeze impacted me a fraction of a second before he did. Neither force was subtle or caressing. The wind jerked the spear out of my right hand. Holy water exploded from the jug with geyser force as it smashed between us. I careened off the wall before White Feather’s crashing weight bore me to the carpet.
We were blessed all over. The spear bounced off my head and thumped harmlessly onto the floor.
“Adriel.” The voice was in my ear. It was possible the ring tingled, but my arms and hands were throbbing from the fall, deadening everything else.
“Vamps. Living room?” I gasped out.
“Hole in the wall,” White Feather growled back. He lifted himself off me, his strong arms pulling me up with him. “Adriel—” He held my shoulders and inspected me from top to bottom. “He came in the wall? As a bat? I thought that was a myth, but that hole isn’t big enough for a vamp!”
I peered over his shoulder, scooting him sideways in order to see.
An opening over a foot long yawned like a jagged mouth across my outside wall. It was three yards from the door, which was wide open. “They’re gone?”
White Feather fingered the silver ring I had designed for him. It contained pieces of my own jewelry, including turquoise originally a part of my grandmother’s bracelet. “The silver in the ring froze as cold as ice right before I heard you scream. Only you weren’t there. What happened here?” His green eyes met my whiskey brown ones, flashing shades of the forest, winds that wanted to rip into something. His entire body was taut and ready for a fight, but the threat was gone.
“What happened here?” I repeated dumbly, shock immobilizing my brain.
He released a huge breath of air, gathered me into a fierce embrace and squeezed. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
Chapter 3
Wintertime in Santa Fe is often blessed with pockets of warm days, especially when the sun stretches across cloudless skies and gently warms the rocky desert. Even on a cold, crisp day you might find heat rising in a sun-filled canyon or bouncing off an adobe wall. Mother Earth could be cold and fierce, but the warm desert heartbeat was never far away.
The safety of White Feather’s arms was like that heat; steadying, a bit heady, a lot magic. I clutched the dark curls at the base of his neck, letting his presence calm me. His normally combed hair stood on end. The long-sleeved black shirt he wore as a jacket over a tucked in t-shirt was soaking wet.
My own arms, matching the color of his Native American tinged with Hispanic gold, were bare. Only goosebumps covered them against the air swirling through the open door and the hole in the wall. My thick fleece sweatpants, when dry, were cozy enough to double as pjs. I often worked late in the lab and was too lazy to change.
The desert night snapped at us, threatening icicles for anyone dumb enough to walk around bathed in holy water. “We should go in the lab,” I whispered.
White Feather gave the living room another quick inspection using the cold wind to ensure the danger was past. I couldn’t read his magic, but as he stirred the breeze, the chill of outside air mixed with the last of the inside warmth. A paper towel fluttered from the counter to the kitchen floor.
Finding no vampires waiting to pounce, White Feather strode to the front door and shoved one of the kitchen chairs under the doorknob. The top still sagged because of the destroyed hinge.
“Patrick snapped the door off the frame,” I said. A bit unsteadily, I approached the fireplace and hung the crucifix back over the chimney. It was a nearly useless gesture, a lot like shutting the barn door after a bull had ripped through.
My hands shook, but my rings, all of them this time, were quiet. I pulled my long black hair away from my face, but had nothing to fasten it with. White Feather hustled me in front of him and together we ducked into the lab and bolted the door.
Between deep breaths, I told White Feather about the rogue vamp making himself at home.
“That’s it. You’re moving in with me,” he said flatly.
I pictured White Feather’s house in its current state of almost-but-not-quite closed to the elements. It hadn’t been completely rebuilt after the incident with a malicious tornado. We had been working hard on it, but in the meantime, he stayed at my place a lot. We hadn’t talked about any permanent changes. Every time he hinted at me moving, I scuttled away from the topic. “Patrick took care of the vamp. I’m pretty sure he killed him. No one, not even the vamps, wants anything running around that has been infected with Sheila’s experiments.”
“You saw him kill the thing? No wonder I heard you screaming from miles away. I didn’t know a vampire would go so far as to stake another vamp.”
I shuddered. “I don’t know how he did it. I was in here getting a stake.”
The muscles under his shirt rippled as he reached for me. “So the vamp could still be around. Along with Zandy.” His eyes flashed as he evaluated the situation and found nothing to like.
I shrugged. When I swallowed, my throat hurt. “It’s not Zandy or the vamp that I’m scared of at the moment.”
White Feather growled a half question.
“Patrick didn’t pull the vamp through my wall from outside. I had to invite Patrick inside so he could dispose of the vamp.”
White Feather’s wind wrapped around me. “Why are we still standing here?” he yelled.
Air puffed out my lips, a half laugh. “My lab is practically a separate structure from the house. I couldn’t afford to do the whole house with some of the added protections in the lab. The room is right up against the adobe, but I’m pretty sure Patrick can’t get in here. The invite doesn’t include the lab, just like it doesn’t when I invite most people in my house.”
His eyes darted to the outside door. It was closed and locked, as was the inside door. He weighed my words, and then rubbed his jaw as if it hurt as much as my neck and shoulders. “You’re moving in with me.” He hadn’t been all that comfortable half living in my place, even though my home had walls and a roof and his place didn’t. He might also be growing tired of waiting for me to stop avoiding the discussion about where we’d live permanently.
Not one to over-argue in the face of logic and a vampire who could step inside my parlor anytime he wanted, I didn’t scream out my fears of losing everything I had worked so hard for, of not knowing how to be part of him and still keep me at the same time. Instead, I nodded. “I should probably move in with you, except for when I’m here, working in the lab.” It was a bit of a hedge, but far enough over the cliff that I hyperventilated.
Green rolled across his eyes right before he crushed my lips underneath his. He tasted of the rich sage desert, his lips warm and very welcome. Every part of him was breathing, living male.
The lab was really not the place for this sort of thing, but coming off fear and tension, I gave as good as I got, grateful he had arrived, even if I didn’t understand how he’d known about the danger. We’d never had that kind of connection before. Just like normals, we relied on a phone for long distance communication.
White Feather did a thorough job of making sure all of me was intact before finally letting some air between us.
I gasped, “How did you know I was in trouble?”
His hands rested underneath my wet t-shirt, heating me all the way to the core. “You called me. It was as if I searched with the wind, only this time the wind came to me.”
I li
fted my hand from his chest, the one with the diamond ring. He had given it to me only a month earlier. It was my wedding ring, although we hadn’t officially gotten married via regular channels, a point my mother harped on. “Interesting. Mother Earth was definitely warning me, but this time was different. There was a sense of you—and your wind power.”
“Worked for me.”
“I wonder what we can do with it if we really try?”
“Let’s not test it too soon. It was bad enough that I was halfway across Santa Fe at a robbery scene inspecting a dead body when the wind started screaming at me.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
“This hasn’t been my best night. Grab some things to take to my place. We’ll stop by Gordon’s latest case since I wasn’t finished. You taught me enough about auras to trace who walked where, but as long as you’re coming along, it won’t hurt to have your expertise.”
I pulled at my wet shirt. “I need to grab some clothes and...things.” Panic fluttered in my chest. I wanted my entire lab with me, not just a piece or two. This was my home. Sure, it was smaller than White Feather’s place, but we could live here...well, not right now we couldn’t. “I can still come back here and work if I need to.”
White Feather must have sensed the insecurity in my words, but he guessed wrong about the reason. “I’ll be right next to you while you pack some clothes. If Patrick or any other vamp is stupid enough to show up, we’ll be ready.”
Now probably wasn’t the right time to tell him I didn’t want to give up my home and move in with him. Especially since I was the one who had sealed the deal by inviting a vamp into my house.
Feeling the tension lodge deeper in my shoulders, I moved to bundle up a few of the basic necessities from the lab.
Chapter 4
When I was sixteen, I began selling spells. At seventeen I brokered the deal to buy the property where my house currently stood. It was a trade for removing a nasty curse from a very desperate and wealthy individual. My parents hadn’t taken my witching business seriously, which was a huge advantage in getting started without interference. It was over a year before they realized I was well on my way to rebuilding the house on the property. The first house had burned to the ground after my inexperience with tainted gold loosed an evil spirit.
I’d been doing my own thing for the better part of ten years.
Loving someone and living with them day in and day out were two different things. The love part was easy. I was head over heels. Giving up my freedom was a lot scarier. And I didn’t mean dating freedom.
White Feather not only helped his brother Gordon with undercover work, he was a consultant on various engineering projects, usually projects involving wind energy. He worked from home frequently. So did I.
White Feather had more or less planned for the working from home thing. With his house torn in half, it wasn’t difficult to add a lab for me. The problem was that the lab wasn’t done. And “moving in with White Feather someday soon” was not the same as “moving in with White Feather right this second.”
It wasn’t that I wasn’t committed to White Feather, it was that...what if he decided he didn’t like me after he knew all my weird quirks? I wasn’t a great cook. I was neat as a pin in the lab because it was necessary; you don’t want stray ingredients sneaking into a spell, and you must be able to locate items quickly in an emergency. The rest of my house collected dust as though dirt were a fine wine that needed to be aged. The kitchen was almost always clean, but that was mostly because I didn’t cook often. Laundry was done under the duress of washing it or buying clean clothes every month.
I packed items from my lab halfheartedly, unsure what to take. My ears listened for a vamp, which was silly. If Patrick decided to return and didn’t want me to hear him, he would be quieter than a whisper. “Do you think we could cover that hole in the living room? And fix the front door?”
“Good idea.” White Feather set aside the box I had just handed him.
We stared at the closed lab door. Then we looked at each other. He wouldn’t allow me do it, and I wasn’t about to sit in here packing like a good wife while he did it.
“I have some plywood.” At the wood stack, I grabbed up a long piece of sharp willow instead of the flat plywood. “The ash, at least I think it is ash, is in the hallway.”
We moved together, a team.
The living room was quiet. And cold. Morning was a long way off, but with no vamps in sight, we had time to secure the place. I picked up the discarded piece of ash on my way back to retrieve the plywood. “Let’s get this done.”
* * *
By the time we left, I had worked up a sweat and felt a sense of satisfaction from sharing chores with White Feather. It helped my mood that we headed to the robbery site rather than driving straight to his place. Working a case was just another job.
I asked, “What’s the deal with this robbery?”
“No witnesses, but a bystander—or more likely one of the perps—was killed inside the jewelry store.”
“Shot?”
He shook his head. “ME said the cause of death mimicked a strangulation, but her neck is intact. There are pinpoint hemorrhages in the eyes and more hemorrhages across the chest and at least one arm. The robbery was called in about nine o’clock when the shop owner stopped by to stash some new inventory in the safe. Everything on the street was already closed, thus no witnesses.”
“Hmm. That late at night doesn’t fit innocent window shopper.”
“Especially since the dead lady was inside the store.”
Santa Fe had numerous art galleries and high-end design stores all over the city. The most popular and successful were in the plaza area, of course. The older galleries had learned to bring in popular local commissions and stayed in business for years. New ones popped up in homes redesigned as stores and came and went with the seasons or fads.
White Feather pulled in front of a white-washed building four or five blocks from the plaza. There were no restaurants on the street, and nothing opened late. “Piercing Hoops,” I read. The building had crime scene tape strung across the front, but the police personnel were gone. “Looks like you missed most of the fun.”
“Yeah. Too bad.” White Feather opened his door. “Everything taken was gold or silver, except for a couple of nicer pieces that had little precious metal, but must have caught the eyes of the perps.”
“Sounds planned, except they probably lost one of their own. Why were you called in?”
“Because it’s the second robbery in two weeks where it looks like one of the perps died of the same symptoms.”
“Hmm.” The windows were intact, and the door was locked, but White Feather knew where Gordon had hidden a key for him. He unlocked the door, let his wind search ahead, then found the light switch. He motioned me inside.
Before stepping forward, I took a deep breath. The air smelled of White Feather; soap, shaving cream, and a touch of mountain forest tinged with mesquite that was his wind magic. The second breath wasn’t so nice. The odor of dead body was a stink of loose bowels. At least there was no blood. I had my witching fork ready.
White Feather pointed to where the body had been, but it was pretty obvious.
Wrinkling my nose, I rolled the fork in the essence, and let it lead me where it would. To my surprise, it led right back outside to the curb.
I traced it twice, getting a stronger pull right near the door, but otherwise the strongest spot was where the woman had fallen.
“That’s exactly what I found,” White Feather said with satisfaction. “The perps pulled up to the curb, stood at the door until the locks were picked, and went inside. This lady never even made it to a jewelry case before collapsing.”
“How did the alarm get disabled?” I inspected the small space, noting that the paintings hadn’t been of interest to the thieves. “And what about the cameras?”
“That’s where the robbery takes another unusual turn. The door doesn’t sh
ow any signs of being picked. The alarm appears to have been turned off right before the robbery. Same with the cameras. One of the technicians with Gordon said it was possible a strong electromagnetic source interfered with the camera signals, but that wouldn’t have disabled the alarm. That had to be done manually.”
I stood under one of the cameras and held the witching fork up. Nothing. “Where is the switch for the camera and alarms?”
“There’s an emergency alarm button by the register. The cameras and the overall alarm settings are controlled from a computer in the office.”
I waved the fork over the counter and the alarm button, but there was nary a twitch.
The office was nothing more than a glorified closet behind the counter.
As I poked my head through the door, White Feather said, “The alarm was easy to disable. Turn around, and you’ll see the alarm control right next to the light switch. The code to set or disarm it is written underneath. The owner figured if you were inside the office, the alarm had already gone off or you were one of the employees.
“Shutting down the cameras was done easily from the computer. The digital recording should have shown the first person who entered and came back to the office to shut off the alarm, but the recording doesn’t show lights or people. It was simply turned off and never turned back on,” White Feather said.
At the desk, the fork twitched ever so slightly. “She was in here?” The fork definitely twitched on the keyboard. I moved the fork around, but had to crouch to pick up the signal on the floor. Even then it was weak.
“I didn’t find any aura in there.” White Feather leaned over the counter. If he tried to join me back here, we’d trip over one another.
I expected the trail to lead me back to the body, but once I reached the counter, it went around one side and then faded. “Can you enhance this with your wind?” He had strengthened a witching fork for me before, but that was to make it search further out. This time we needed the opposite. “Maybe if you create one of those air pockets of blank air around the fork so that it stays focused on this narrow trail?”
Under Witch Curse (Moon Shadow Series) Page 2