Always Look Twice

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  And not only that, but she’d probably killed Taylor Campbell, too. Casting a spell and afflicting him with an illness.

  Olivia opened her eyes and turned to the window. A crisp breeze blew, billowing the lace sheers, making them look like a ghost.

  Was this what her father had been trying to her warn her and Allie about? Had he been trying to tell them that their mother was the Slasher?

  “You can frame Glenn,” Yvonne said.

  Olivia shifted her gaze. “What?”

  “You and Agent West. You can frame Glenn for the murders. The police already think he did it. And he’s such a spineless weasel. I never liked him.”

  At a loss for words, Olivia clutched her stomach again.

  “Just think,” her mother went on to say. “If you convince West to take our side, the two of you can come here as often as you like. The way I do. And Zinna will give you anything you want.” She stood, smiled, moved closer. “We can be a family. With Allie, of course.” She reached out to hug Olivia, to embrace her. “Allie will follow your lead. Your sister adores you.”

  “No.” She put her hands on her mother’s shoulders and pushed her away. “I’d never frame an innocent man. And neither would Allie nor West.”

  Yvonne stumbled, nearly tripping on the soiled linens. “Damn you!”

  “Go to hell, Mom.”

  “Listen to you. Miss High-and-Mighty. If you don’t convince Agent West to get his priorities straight, he’s going to die.”

  “No, he isn’t. I’m going to heal him. And then I’m taking him home.”

  Her mom laughed. “Heal him? Who filled your head with that nonsense? You’re not a medicine woman. You’re a witch.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m my father’s daughter, not yours.”

  Yvonne’s narcissism sparked like fire. “Joseph is dead. And he killed himself because of me. I’m the one who mattered to him. Not you. Not your sister.”

  “Nothing you say will sway me. Nothing you say will make me betray my own soul.”

  “Then your lover won’t survive.”

  Olivia held her ground. “I already told you, I’m going to heal him.” And capture her mother, she thought. Turn her over to the police.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Yvonne said. “But Zinna would never allow it.” She tossed back her hair and smiled. “This is my sanctuary. I’m safe here.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Olivia reached for her gun and aimed it at her mom. “You’re still human. My bullet can still kill you.”

  “Yes, it could. But you’re a fool to even consider such a thing.”

  In the next instant the owl lady materialized, shielding Yvonne. And within a heartbeat, the house disappeared, leaving Olivia standing in the middle of the forest.

  With the wind howling at her back.

  There was nothing but endless foliage: trees dripping with moss, zigzagging brush, vines creeping across the ground, twisting and turning into narrow paths.

  Olivia didn’t know which way to turn.

  West was being kept in a shelter in the woods. Or, at least, that was what she’d been led to believe. But now that she was here, she couldn’t feel his presence.

  She was lost.

  And so was he.

  Even the bubble was gone.

  No, she told herself. Don’t give up. Her medicine had worked so far. Hadn’t it? Zinna hadn’t tempted her. She hadn’t even come close to stealing her soul.

  And neither had Yvonne.

  Olivia swayed on her feet. Just thinking about her mother, imagining her sacrificing those women, sent a wave of nausea sloshing through her system.

  West had told her the truth would hurt.

  And now she had to find him, to heal him, to rescue him from this hellhole. Still battling a bout of queasiness, she reached for the water she’d packed, and took a small sip.

  Then something moved at her feet.

  She looked down, saw it shimmer beneath the brush, like a piece of garland that had fallen from a Christmas tree.

  She watched it slink through the ivy, making leaves quake in its path. Cautious, she followed it. In her hand, she carried the gun she’d aimed at her mom.

  She knew that nothing pure of heart lived in this forest, no birds or bees or mammals that hadn’t been bewitched, nothing that dwelled in natural settings. The only beings that lurked in the shadows were Zinna’s creatures.

  Yet somehow this shimmering entity seemed chaste. A white light.

  But how could she be sure?

  It kept moving, slowly, allowing her to keep up, to make her way through low-hanging branches.

  Suddenly the wind stirred, sweeping a chill through the air, lifting the eagle feathers attached to her shirt.

  She stalled, squinted through a copse of trees and noticed a thatched roof in the distance.

  West.

  Finally. She could feel him. He was here, about a hundred yards away. Olivia took off running, heading for the rugged shanty, cypress limbs scratching her arms, moss tendrils attacking her hair like spiderwebs.

  Her shimmering companion sped through the forest, too, racing ahead of her. She tripped, nearly stumbled, afraid the tiny building would disappear before she reached it. But by the time she got there, the white-light entity was already guarding the door.

  It had to be her protector.

  Anxious, she searched the one-room shack and found West in a dingy corner. He lay on the floor, his clothes torn, dried blood and dirt caked on his skin.

  She knelt beside him and touched his cheek. “It’s me,” she whispered, removing a bundle of sage from her backpack.

  He didn’t open his eyes; he didn’t respond.

  She smudged herself and West, then purified the stagnant air. With quaking hands, she arranged the items she’d brought with her.

  Would Zinna interfere with the healing? Or had the ancient witch backed off purposely, believing Olivia would fail…convinced she would be forced to give up her soul in exchange for West’s life?

  Determined to prove otherwise, Olivia played the Southwestern drumming-and-singing tape, letting the Native chants fill the room.

  While she cleaned and bandaged West’s wounds, his eyelids fluttered. His skin was hot, feverish. She bathed his body with a liquid herbal mixture, trying to cool his skin.

  And then she noticed the object beneath his flesh, on the left side of his chest. She traced the shape and realized what it was.

  An arrowhead in the vicinity of his heart.

  A calling card from the Slasher.

  Distraught, Olivia gazed at her lover. Her mother had done this to him. Clearly, this had come from Yvonne. Olivia had heard of object-intrusion spells, where the sorcerer inserted a witch weapon into the victim’s body. But she had no idea how to remove it.

  Taking a chance, she used the cattail pollen on West’s forehead. As far as she knew, curing ceremonies were long and detailed, with friends and family by the patient’s side. But Olivia did her best to make him well, to use her medicine, to utilize her power.

  Yet her efforts proved in vain.

  The arrowhead remained. And so did his fever.

  She glanced at her watch, saw how much time had passed. She held his hand and said a prayer.

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. She caught her breath. His eyes were glazed, as foggy as a misty night, but he was moving his lips, attempting to speak.

  “Dreaming,” he said.

  She smoothed his hair away from his face. “You’re awake. I came here to take you home.”

  “Happy to see you.”

  “Me, too.” She propped up his head and offered him some water, holding the plastic bottle for him. His lips were parched, blistering from the heat within his body.

  “We should go now,” he said.

  “But you’re still sick.”

  “Better,” he told her.

  Olivia pressed her palm to his cheek. He still had a fever, but it wasn’t nearly as high as before. She frow
ned at his chest, at the arrowhead imbedded in his skin. How long would his recovery last? A few minutes? An hour? She hadn’t broken the object-intrusion spell.

  “Don’t want to stay here,” he said.

  She checked her watch again. “You’re right. We need to go.” She gathered her supplies, getting ready to take him home.

  He sat up, and she knew he was dizzy. She could sense the room spinning before his eyes. He leaned his head on her shoulder, and she drew him close.

  Finally she got him to his feet. She held on to him at first, but he insisted that he could make it to the door on his own. Male pride, she thought, grateful for his determination.

  The white-light entity was still outside.

  But so were the forces of evil. The forest had come alive with dark, demented creatures. Olivia couldn’t see them, but she felt them. Waiting, watching.

  Zinna wasn’t about to let them leave without a fight. Olivia’s medicine had taken them farther than the owl lady had anticipated, which meant they had a chance.

  A chance Zinna intended to destroy.

  “We have to find the portal.” Olivia tried to use her psychic sight to locate the bubble, but nothing happened.

  Damn it, she thought. Why couldn’t her ability be infallible?

  “Which way should we go?” she asked the white light.

  It turned in a circle, unsure of what path to take.

  Curious, West moved closer. “What is that?”

  “Something that’s trying to help.” But now she wondered why it was staying so low to the ground. Was it struggling in this dimension? Unable to rise to its full power?

  “I need a weapon,” West said. “They took mine.”

  They. Her mother and Zinna. Olivia placed a backup gun in his hand. “I know who the Slasher is. I saw her. I spoke to her.”

  He met her gaze. “I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

  Her heart clenched, ashamed of her mother, of what she’d done to him. “So am I.” And before it was too late, she had to take him home.

  Once again she tried to get a reading on the bubble. And this time she sensed what direction to take. “We need to go that way.” She gestured to the opposite path from which they’d come.

  As they traveled, Olivia monitored their time. They moved at a steady pace, but she worried about West. A cool breeze no longer blew. The terrain had become moist and slippery, and the temperature had reached a brutal height. The air was thick, humid with the scent of water. A harsh environment for a man battling an illness.

  Something flew over their heads, and Olivia raised her weapon to the sky. One of Zinna’s pets. A vulture, a buzzard waiting for West to die. Angry, she shot the bird, blasting it to the ground.

  “Good versus evil,” she said, trying to keep their spirits up, trying to surround them with positive energy. “How can we lose?”

  West gave her an appreciative smile, and an instant later, a trio of winged monkeys—like the Wicked Witch of the West’s mischief makers—flew out of a tree, leaping on Olivia’s back, clawing her shirt, pulling her hair, yanking her head back.

  Stunned, she fought off the twisted attack. Did Zinna think this was funny? Was she watching from a crystal ball? Or had it been Yvonne’s idea?

  West had been ambushed, too. She saw him rolling on the damp ground, struggling to fight back, leafy plants and broken branches scratching his arms.

  While the beasts on Olivia’s back continued their assault, she fired at West’s monkeys. The creatures keeled over, dropping like flies.

  “Shoot mine!” she yelled, as one of the winged primates stole her gun.

  He squinted at her, and she knew his gaze was blurry. Wrestling with the monkeys had drained the last of his strength.

  The white-light entity zigzagged, alerting Olivia to a new danger.

  An alligator was approaching.

  “Shoot!” She screamed at West again.

  He fired, killing the monkeys in three successive shots, even though his aim was severely off. The malachite had worked, making the gun shoot straight. Score one for the good guys, she thought, focusing on the alligator.

  Olivia retrieved her weapon and plugged the reptile full of holes, then spun around and saw the swamp from which it had come. “The bubble is in the water. I can feel it.”

  The protector didn’t move. And Olivia knew why. West remained on the ground, drenched in sweat.

  She knelt beside him, wanting to tell him that she loved him. But afraid, so very afraid, to say the words out loud. Instead, she got into her backpack and sponged his face and neck with the herbal mixture, trying to cool his skin. His fever had spiked once again. “We have to swim for it.”

  He lifted his hand, touched her cheek. “I’ll try.”

  “I know you will.” She blinked, told herself not to cry, then offered him some water, knowing he needed fluids to survive. “I’ll hold on to you. We can do this together.”

  She helped him to his feet, and he leaned against her the entire way. When they reached the edge of the swamp, they both stalled.

  “Might be more alligators,” he said.

  “I know.” But they were running out of time, out of options. She considered diving in on her own and bringing the bubble to the bank. But if it was heavy enough to sink, then it was too cumbersome for her to move.

  The protector hit the water first, gliding like an electric eel.

  “Our turn,” she said to West. “But I might have to let go of you, just for an instant. I’ll have to use both hands to open the portal.”

  He nodded, and she prayed they didn’t drown inside the bubble, that it didn’t absorb the water when it opened.

  Taking West with her, Olivia swam across the swamp, laboring to keep him close, using the protector’s shimmering image as a beacon. They located the portal about thirty feet from the bank, immersed six feet under. The depth of a grave, she thought. She searched for evidence of the drawing Derek had made, the door to the other dimension, but there was no visible sign of where it was.

  She used her psychic sight, found the right spot and released West, allowing him to swim on his own. She felt horribly disconnected letting him go, as if one of her limbs had just been severed, but that wasn’t the only thing that panicked her.

  The portal wouldn’t open. The ointment on her arms wasn’t working. Had the water deactivated it? Had—

  She caught movement from the corner of her eye and noticed the white-light entity was spinning like a maniac.

  Another alligator.

  She dived for West, but the four-foot reptile grabbed his arm. She punched the beast’s snout, and it opened its mouth and retreated. A maneuver she’d seen on Animal Planet. But West had already been bitten.

  She propelled him to the surface so he could gulp some air. He hadn’t lost consciousness. But she feared he might. How much could he endure? He was too sick to be in this situation.

  Yet she had to submerge him again. She had to find a way to open the portal and get him inside.

  But how?

  Olivia clung to West, then glanced at his arm, at his blood seeping into the water. What if she wasn’t strong enough to save them?

  What if Zinna and the Slasher had already won?

  Chapter 18

  No, Olivia thought. She wouldn’t lose hope. Not in the middle of a swamp with a man who seemed determined to stay conscious, no matter how ill he was. West’s death wish had long since passed. Now that it was a reality, he wanted to survive.

  Cradling him, Olivia swam toward a log, grabbed it and used it as a flotation device. She helped him put his arms around it, and he held on. The arm the alligator had attacked was still bleeding, but the wound didn’t look serious. Maybe it was the smaller size of the gator. Of course that did little to ease her mind. Even a minor bite could get infected.

  “The magic that was supposed to open the portal isn’t working,” Olivia said. “But that doesn’t matter. We can do this on our own.”

  West sq
uinted at the sun. “How?”

  “By holding on to each other. By using our medicine.” She looked into his eyes, those strange gray eyes. “Our power. Good versus evil.”

  He leaned his head against the log. “Fearless leader.”

  “Who? Me?” She touched his cheek and felt the heat raging in his body. His lips were still blistered, and his breathing was labored.

  “Trust you,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Her eyes misted, but she blinked away the emotion. “We’re both going to place our hands on the portal door. And I’m not going to let go of you this time.”

  “No more gators.”

  “No. No more attacks.” Or so she prayed. She looked at her protector. “We need your energy, too. Your power. Just stay with us when we try to open the portal.”

  It didn’t respond, of course. But she knew it understood. That it cared.

  “Ready?” she asked, gazing at her companions.

  West nodded, and she put her arms around him, hoping that he could hold his breath long enough to remain underwater. She removed the wolf charm from around her neck and slipped it over his head.

  He gave her a tender smile, and she decided he had to be the most determined FBI agent on the planet.

  Federal Bureau of Inspiration.

  “Let’s go,” she said, submerging him below the surface.

  The white-light entity made the dive, too.

  West shivered in her arms, but she kept him close to her body, close to her heart. She wasn’t going to lose him.

  When they reached the bubble, she braced herself against the back of West’s body, holding him in place. Then she lifted his hands and put them on the portal door. Next she placed her hands right below his.

  Her protector started spinning.

  Suddenly there were alligators everywhere, coming at them from all sides.

  Zinna was trying to stop them.

  Olivia pressed closer to West. Soon the gators would be close enough to bite.

  Just then, the white-light entity touched Olivia’s hands, showering her with every ounce of power it had, letting her draw from its energy.

  The door to the bubble opened, taking her and West inside. She blinked, felt her skin tingle and realized her protector was gone.