American Witch

by Thea Harrison

  Abruptly his amusement returned, along with curiosity. Spinning his chair in a slow circle, he asked, “What would you do?”

  “I would…” Her voice trailed away. “Well, I don’t know what I would do. But I would figure something out.”

  He had no doubt. If she knew a fraction of the things he knew, Molly could do an incredible amount of damage to an opponent. “I believe you, but that’s beside the point. I apologize, and I promise to never cast an influence spell on you again. Will that do?”

  She blew out a slow breath. “Maybe. But what if I decide to trust you and you go back on that?”

  “I won’t,” he said flatly. “For one thing, I respect your awakening Power too much. I don’t want us to become enemies. For another, I just gave my word, and that means something to me.”

  She went silent again, and a car horn honked in the background. This time he knew better than to push too hard, and she had been the one to call him, so he waited.

  Finally she sighed. “Okay. I accept your apology. Unless you prove me wrong, I’ll take you at your word.”

  As entertaining as this conversation had been, he had a mountain of work to do, so he turned brisk. “Great. I’ll ask again—what can I do for you?”

  She lowered her voice. “What if I knew someone who might want to give the DA an anonymous tip?”

  More surprises. She was turning out to be a wealth of interesting experiences. He straightened. “I would say the DA is intrigued. Tell me more.”

  “It might lead somewhere, but then again it might not.”

  “It happens,” he drawled. “Anonymous tips are notorious for that.”

  “Also, it would be very good for your source if no action was taken until after her divorce was finalized.” She hesitated again. “You know, just in case the tip actually did lead to something.”

  “Well, I don’t know what the information is. Nor do I know how long the divorce will take, but if it’s possible to wait, I think I could agree to that.”

  “I met with a divorce attorney this morning,” she confessed. “Austin figured out where I was staying and showed up at the hotel last night, so she’s going to file papers and a restraining order right away. She’ll also be sending Austin a settlement offer I don’t think he can afford to refuse. Anyway, hopefully the divorce won’t take too long.”

  “It must have been very unpleasant when Sullivan showed up,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. What have you got?”

  “A proposition,” she replied. “I’ll tell you what I know—and I have to warn you, it isn’t a lot to go on—and in return I want you to teach me how to defend myself.”

  He straightened from his slouched position. “Do you feel like you’re in danger?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” Tension like a finely spun wire ran through her reply. “Maybe not. But I do feel uneasy, and I would like some insurance. Something up my sleeve, just in case. I’m not talking about a long-term commitment. One spell would do it, or even a way to somehow channel the ability I’ve already got. I would rather do that than buy a gun. Guns can be taken away from their owners, but nobody can wrestle this Power away from me.”

  Ah, such naïveté.

  Still, given her current level of knowledge, she wasn’t wrong, and respect stirred. “Is this connected to your tip?”

  “Yes. I think Austin’s dirty. I found something in the contents of our safe.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I accept your proposition. Now you have to have dinner with me and explain what’s going on. After I cancel my other plans, I’ll be all yours for the evening, but we shouldn’t meet in public.”

  Her relief was palpable. “No, I don’t think we should meet in public either. We shouldn’t be seen together. Where do you want to meet?”

  He considered various options. “Somewhere outside the city. Do you know the Sweetwater Creek State Park? I haven’t been there yet, but from what I’ve read, the park is huge. That should offer enough privacy.”

  “Of course. It’s a beautiful place. I’ve been many times, and it’s only about thirty minutes out. Yes, I’ll meet you there. The park has a visitor center. Once you locate that, there’s a picnic area not too far away.” She rattled off directions, and he grabbed a pen to jot them down.

  “Got it,” he told her. “I’ll leave right after work and meet you at six.”

  “Thank you.” She paused, and when she spoke again, the reluctance had returned. “If you’re coming right after work, you’ll be hungry. I’ll bring something to eat.”

  An inexplicable reaction warmed him. They weren’t friends, and he had given her good cause to be wary of him. He couldn’t think of a single reason she would make such an offer unless she was just… nice.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “See you then,” she said.

  Before she could disconnect, he added, “Oh, and Molly? If someone is really intent on doing you harm, a restraining order isn’t anything more than a piece of paper. You should relocate, and this time don’t use your credit card.”

  She blew out a breath. “That’s next on my list of things to do. I checked out this morning, and as soon as the bank opened, I bought some prepaid Visa cards. After I finish talking with you, I’m going to find somewhere else to stay.”

  Relaxing, he smiled and purred, “I knew you weren’t just a pretty face.”

  “You think I’m pretty?” She sounded astonished but then added quickly, “I’m hanging up now.”

  He laughed. “I think you’re beautiful, and I’m hanging up now too. Be careful, and make sure you don’t have somebody following you. See you soon.”

  After the call ended, he fired off an email to cancel his dinner date and then sat back in his chair.

  So, Molly thought Sullivan was dirty. How about that.

  Her information might or might not be relevant to Josiah’s interests, but that didn’t matter. The main thing was, he should be able to gain more of her trust, at least enough so he could give her some training.

  That could be enough for her to exercise control so she would stop being so damn visible to those who had magic sensitivity and enough interest in the Atlanta area to check out new anomalies. Helping Molly helped him.

  He found himself smiling again. They hadn’t talked that long, but she had still managed to evoke a surprising number of emotions. And with every change in her inflection, he could imagine her expressions.

  She was busy and preoccupied with her own problems, but she wasn’t letting any of that dull her sharp mind. Yes, she was beautiful, but beauty was overrated in these modern times. A woman with her kind of intelligence was sexy as hell, and he liked that. He liked her very much.

  But that was irrelevant. He had no place in his life for nice people—not with the kind of damage he intended to inflict and the danger that came along with it.

  It took some effort, but eventually he put her out of his mind and got back to work.

  Chapter Five

  Molly slipped her phone back into her purse and climbed into her SUV. Only time would tell whether Josiah was as good at keeping his word as he claimed. She had set her course of action. That had to be good enough for now.

  The early-morning meeting with her new attorney, Nina Rodriguez, had highlighted everything that had been bothering her, and not in a good way. Nina was an attractive fifty-year-old Hispanic woman with sharp dark eyes and a warm smile who, she said, loved to take cheating assholes of either sex to the cleaners.

  Molly had emailed the zip file of documents to Nina the night before, and they went over everything in person. As soon as Nina had laid eyes on the mysterious bank account, she’d recognized the format from a bank in the Seychelles islands.

  “Is your husband laundering money?” Nina asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “I-I don’t know,” Molly replied. When she’d found the violet panties, she had thought Austin couldn’t do anything more to rattle her. She’d been wrong.r />
  Now, indulging in a newfound sense of paranoia, she drove around in circles while she kept an eye on the surrounding traffic. She was more shaken than she liked to admit, and she’d grown uncomfortable driving the Escalade. It was too distinctive, and the license plate a matter of record.

  So she drove to the nearest Cadillac dealership and sold it. While she waited for the dealer to cut her a check, she called a car rental—not the one conveniently located across the street from the dealership, but one from a few miles away—and reserved a sedan. The rental company offered a pickup service, so she was able to complete both transactions within a couple of hours.

  After that, she searched on her phone until she located an available Airbnb apartment in a trendy neighborhood near Clark Atlanta University. She chatted with the owner for ten minutes, then bought a week’s stay with one of her prepaid Visa cards and drove to the new place.

  The owner lived in a midcentury house, and the one-bedroom rental was over a detached garage. She had invited Molly to use the driveway, so she parked on one side of the garage, near the outside set of stairs that led up to the rental. The door was locked with a lockbox, and the owner had given her the code, so she was able to let herself in.

  After a quick walk-through, she discovered the other woman hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said the apartment was utilitarian. There were basic furnishings—a couch, a chair, a coffee table, and a forty-inch LED TV in the living room, along with a dinette set in the kitchen, adequate bedroom furniture with a double bed, and minimal wall decor.

  But it was clean, and the large windows looked out at plenty of trees, giving the space an airy, peaceful feeling. And it was another place that felt fresh and new, a place where Austin had never been.

  Most importantly, it was a place where now, hopefully, nobody could find her.

  She hauled her luggage up the stairs, unpacked, and then went grocery shopping. By the end of the afternoon, she felt better than she had in days. She had a couple of bottles of wine, she could cook comfort meals, and she didn’t have to go out unless she wanted to.

  Other things nagged to be added to her to-do list. Things like finding a permanent place to settle down. Trying to find the woman from her dreams, or some other teacher, someone she could trust who was not Josiah.

  But thinking about the rest of her life was overwhelming. She wasn’t ready to make any more decisions that would have long-term consequences, and she backed away quickly. That wasn’t what she needed to concentrate on this evening.

  She still wore the two-piece suit from the meeting with Nina. Stripping out of her clothes, she had a long, luxurious shower, dried her hair, and dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a new leather jacket. It would get chilly in the park as the sun set.

  No makeup. She pulled her hair back into a plain ponytail at the nape of her neck and gave herself a long, level look in the mirror. The woman staring back looked strong, no-nonsense, capable. You couldn’t tell her life was in ruins and she was a stranger to herself.

  After shoving cash and identification into her jeans pocket, she folded a photocopy of one of the foreign bank statements and shoved that into another pocket, scooped up her keys, and left to pick up dinner.

  When six o’clock came, she sat on one of the picnic tables underneath a shelter, feet planted on the bench seat and dinner sitting in two paper bags beside her.

  Something brushed along her awareness. A car sped into view and parked beside her rental. From where she sat, she couldn’t tell what model it was, but it looked dark, low-slung, and powerful. While she waited for Josiah to emerge, she ran her gaze over the area.

  A woman with a Great Dane jogged along the side of the park road a couple hundred yards away, but Molly’s and Josiah’s vehicles were the only two in sight. In the summer this picnic spot would be crowded until sunset, but now, as the evening chilled, they should have the clearing to themselves.

  Josiah climbed out and strode across the open area like he was conquering it, his body loose-limbed and comfortable. Like her, he wasn’t young. He looked to be early- to midforties, but for all his maturity, his long, athletic body didn’t carry an ounce of spare fat. There was a tight, whipcord element to the breadth of his muscles. He looked nothing like Austin’s pampered, gym-built physique.

  Okay, she had to be honest. The man was sex on a stick.

  He wore a similar outfit, jeans, a black shirt and leather jacket, and the slanting evening sun gave his dark hair chestnut highlights. Look at that, he wasn’t quite as dark and dangerous as she’d first thought.

  Then she met his hard, catlike amber eyes. A sense of his magic, dark, polished and well-honed, shimmered against her mind’s eye. It felt as sleek as his car looked and infinitely more powerful.

  She threw everything into full reverse. He was every bit as dangerous as she had first thought. Every bit and more.

  Maybe it hadn’t been the smartest idea to meet him in such a secluded spot. But he was a district attorney, she reminded herself, not a serial killer. By the time Josiah reached the picnic shelter, she had wrestled her reactions under control.

  He climbed up to sit beside her, moving his long-limbed body with fluid ease. “Good venue for dinner.”

  “I thought so too.” Digging into the first of the two bags beside her, she pulled out a six-pack of craft beer and offered it to him.

  He accepted a bottle. Setting the six-pack between them, she handed him the second bag. He peered into it and then at the logo on the outside of the bag. “I’d hoped I was smelling fried chicken. Is this from a chain?”

  “Nope. You will want to remember the name of this place. Best fried chicken in Atlanta.” She used the opener she’d bought to pry off the bottle cap, handed the opener to him, and took a pull from her bottle.

  “Excellent. I was too busy to have a real lunch.” He selected a large piece and handed the bag back.

  “How’s your job going? No nasty surprises, I hope?”

  He replied lazily, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  I bet. She avoided saying that out loud.

  Searching through the bag, she pulled out a foil-wrapped biscuit. The food was still hot, and she rolled the top of the bag down over the rest to hold in the warmth.

  Then she crumbled her biscuit and sipped at her beer while Josiah ate in silence. When he finished his first piece, he fished out another. He seemed to be in no hurry to break the silence, but she had an agenda.

  “What do people call you?” she asked. “Are you a witch or a warlock?”

  He shrugged, finished his beer, and took a second bottle. “Either or both. Sometimes sorcerer. Occasionally asshole. Personally, I’m not in love with labels.”

  Lingering warmth from the sunlight touched her face and hands, but the evening chill was setting in. “I don’t want to become a major force on the Eastern Seaboard. The thought never occurred to me, not even in my wildest daydreams.”

  He grinned. “That was where I lost you, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded. “One of the places. I could tell you want it though.”

  “Oh yes,” he said, his voice deepening. “I’m going to be governor of Georgia within the next two election cycles.”

  Looking at his hard, determined profile, she believed him. “But when you say become a major force, you don’t really mean by using the human political system. Do you?”

  “No, although it will help to gain political power as well.” He glanced at her, a quick, calculating look, and then back over the clearing. “Most witches are territorial, especially in the witches demesne, which is run by a very old, well-established council. Outside Louisville, you might find areas held by either solitary witches or full covens. They don’t much like other people of significant Power moving in on their turf. Wars have been fought over who gets to hold which city. You might as well know I intend to claim Atlanta for my own.”

  Wars.

  Abruptly certain she shouldn’t be drinking alcohol while talking to him, she s
et aside her beer. “The Atlanta area isn’t pro-magic.”

  “Give me enough time and I can flip it.”

  His confidence was so rock-solid she believed him. “Why don’t you make your move? If there isn’t any other mature, practicing witch here, the city is wide open for the taking, right?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not a yes-or-no answer. Atlanta may not be claimed by a resident witch, but it’s a place of special interest to a certain dangerous Power, which brings me to an important point. This Power likes to operate under the radar, out of public sight. I know you think I spelled your cell phone when we talked in the bar, but I didn’t. I could tell you were under some distress last night, and that’s why I cast a spell to contact you. The communication spell uses the nearest and best available way to reach out. At the time, that happened to be your cell phone, but it could also have been your television screen or computer monitor.”

  “I see.” She took a slow breath. Looking at him sidelong, she asked, “How did you know I was distressed?”

  “I could feel it. You were spewing Power like a geyser.” He tilted back his head and finished his beer. “More importantly, any creature with sensitivity and Power would have been able to feel it, and Molly—if you don’t trust me on anything else, trust me on this one thing—you don’t want to come to anyone else’s attention like that. It shows you’re out of control and makes you a mark to predators. There are creatures in this world that would love to sink their teeth into you and suck all the magic out of your bones like sucking the juice from a ripe peach.”

  She could feel the blood drain from her face. “That’s a pretty grim image.”

  “It’s pretty grim when it happens.” His narrowed gaze met hers. “But here’s the good news. You can avoid that, and you can avoid hurting anyone by accident, with a few simple techniques.”

  “Such as?”

  “Meditation, for one. Start for ten minutes at a time, three times a day, and build up from there. That will help to keep your Power under better control until you acquire the training you need. A daily yoga practice also helps. And you need to develop a technique for stressful situations. Practice that one like your life depends upon it, because it might.” He wiped his mouth and hands with a paper napkin, then helped himself to another beer.