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American Witch

Page 8

by Thea Harrison


  As her blood cooled in the evening chill, she calmed enough to think. Maybe that wasn’t what he had intended. Like he said, he had let her go as soon as he felt her struggle.

  Yet for that one moment she had felt what it was like to be overpowered by someone larger and physically stronger than she was.

  She took another beer bottle, set it on the asphalt, and walked several yards away.

  As she eyed her target, she whispered, “I’m not going to get over it.”

  Then she concentrated on pulling up her magic and focusing it like a weapon.

  Another beer bottle shattered.

  Four hundred and ninety-nine more to go.

  Chapter Six

  He shouldn’t have kissed her.

  That thought dominated as Josiah pulled onto the interstate to Birmingham. He sped through the deepening night, his mood turning savage.

  What the fuck had he been thinking? He’d meant to get her riled, but there were a thousand other ways he could have done it, and the desire to explore her beautiful lips had mingled disastrously with the urge to knock her out of her shackles of self-doubt.

  And as he had so many times already, he had miscalculated. Badly. But that wasn’t what had seared his brain.

  She had responded to his kiss. Her spectacular mouth had moved so gently and hesitantly under his it had made some long-dead thing in his chest squeeze tight.

  Even now as he thought of it, his skin grew hot and his groin hardened in the first involuntary response he’d had in…

  Gods, he couldn’t remember how long it had been.

  Abruptly, he did a mental one-eighty. Hell, it was a good thing he had burned down the new, tentative bridge they had begun to build between them. Just as well that she ended up looking at him like he was Satan personified and the embodiment of every male asshole on the continent.

  He’d already squandered far more thought, time, and effort on her than he’d ever intended. As he already knew, quite well goddammit, there was no room for nice people in his life. And there was absolutely no room for beautiful, vulnerable women no matter how intelligent they were or how promising their future looked.

  Or how soft and inviting their lips looked. Felt.

  As he drew close to his destination, he pulled out his phone and punched Maria’s number. When she picked up, he said, “I’m calling a coven meeting.”

  Her lightly accented, low contralto sounded in his ear. “When?”

  “In fifteen minutes. I’m almost there.” Gathering in person was rare, but the others had already evacuated to Maria’s safe house, and there was no time like the present. “Tell the others. We’ll have Steven FaceTime from New York.”

  One thing he appreciated about Maria—she didn’t waste time on unnecessary conversation. “Okay. We’ll be ready when you get here.”

  He signed off. Then, even though he had been watchful from the moment he had left the office, he drove through a series of maneuvers designed to lose a tail.

  While his Audi purred along neighborhood streets, he whispered spells to prevent farseers from gaining accurate visions of his actions. It was all standard procedure that he insisted his coven employ whenever they gathered. His insistence was why they had all survived as long as they had.

  He was confident he had garnered no more than the usual mundane interest from starting the new job, but he never, ever left things to chance. Sloppiness could get you killed.

  Or worse. There were much worse things than death.

  Finally he reached the address at the southern outskirts of the city, another country house as unprepossessing as the one outside Atlanta. He followed the gravel drive around to the back and parked beside two pickups, a Subaru Outback, and a Honda CRV.

  As he climbed out, Maria appeared by the car door. She was a short Hispanic woman with long black hair pulled back in a braid and large, luminous eyes. She looked like a human Bambi, and her aura of harmless vulnerability was one of the most lethal illusions he’d ever seen.

  She hugged him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong question,” he told her, returning the hug. “If my intuition is right, we may have been presented with an unexpected opportunity.”

  “Oh good!” She relaxed visibly. “You had us worried, especially after last night.”

  He glanced around. With four members of his coven present, he had no doubt the area was clear of potential threats, but some habits never died. “Let’s get inside before I say more.”

  “You bet. Do you need some supper?”

  “I’ve already eaten, thanks. The sooner we get to business, the sooner I can get back to town. I’ve got to be in the office at eight in the morning.”

  She gave him a quick, rueful glance. “Have you ever had to punch someone else’s time clock before?”

  “No,” he said drily.

  “It’s quite different from working for yourself. And you’ve been burning the candle at both ends these days, haven’t you?”

  “Story of my life until this is over.”

  “Maybe so, but the rest of us will do what we can to share the load.”

  She led him in the back door and directly into the basement where Anson, Henry, and Richard waited. Some part of Josiah that remained on perpetual high alert relaxed when he felt surrounded by the protective spells on the basement’s ceiling, floor, and walls.

  The group kept their greetings brief. While Anson drew a pentagram on the floor, Maria established a FaceTime connection with Steven, setting the phone where he would stand in person, and everyone stood in a circle.

  Josiah took a moment to look around. Richard had been in the armed forces and still carried the demeanor of a soldier in his long, straight body. Henry was a numbers guy and Harvard educated, while their designated geek Steven was a graduate from MIT who specialized in the intersection of technology and magic.

  Maria, the strongest seer of the group, appeared to be an attractive thirty-year-old, but in reality she was closer to sixty, and at two hundred years of age—twenty-six years older than Josiah himself—Anson was the oldest. He looked exactly like what he had been when his Power had awakened, a kindly grandfather with graying hair.

  Covens were created for any number of social, political, and financial reasons, and some lasted for generations. Josiah had created his to fulfill a single purpose. He had painstakingly researched each member before recruiting them in a careful process that could take months. In Anson’s case, it had taken two years.

  The coven members weren’t friends. He and Richard could barely stand one another, but in some ways they were closer than family. As he considered Henry’s whip-smart, icy gaze, Josiah wondered what would happen once the coven had finally accomplished what they had set out to do.

  He could see some taking off, never to be heard from again, but other connections, like possibly his relationships with Maria and Anson, might last longer.

  In any case, none of that mattered. They were united now, had been for decades, for the sole purpose of destroying one man.

  After Richard lit the candles positioned at each point of the pentagram, Josiah raised his Power and extended it out to Maria on his left and to Richard on his right. The others did the same until their Powers merged with a snap and the circle was completed.

  It was weaker than it would be if Steven were physically present. Even so, he could extend some energy through the FaceTime connection. As Josiah eyed their handiwork with a critical eye, he was satisfied that the merging was strong and solid.

  As disparate as they were in personality and talent, his coven had learned to work well together. As long as they held their circle, no outside creature could see what they did, nor could anyone hear what they discussed, not even the world’s rare, dangerous Djinn.

  In the unlikely event something had slipped past the electronic security systems, the driving maneuvers, the spells of aversion, and the spells cast on the ceiling, floor, and walls of the basement, this circle was their last, strongest layer
of protection.

  He pulled out the folded photocopy Molly had given him and tossed it into the middle of the pentagram. “Tell me what you see when you look at this,” he said to Maria. “Does it connect to our mission?”

  “What is it?” Richard asked, eyeing the folded paper curiously.

  Quietly, Josiah replied, “Hold on. I want to know if Maria gets any hits off it first.”

  Maria’s sight tended to yield purer results when she didn’t hold preconceived ideas. Beside him, she tilted her head. Her large, lustrous eyes had taken on an extra sheen. They glittered like black diamonds, reflecting light.

  She murmured, “What is the subterfuge that lies around this?”

  She was that damn good. Smiling, he said, “There are a couple of layers of subterfuge. The person who gave it to me did so in secret.”

  “And it contains a secret.”

  “Yes.”

  “A dangerous secret.” In that moment, she looked quite alien. Breathing deeply, she nodded. “This does connect to our mission, but it’s a winding thread that doubles back on itself. I can’t see the twists and turns. Some of it is technological, and some financial. All I can see for certain is that someone doesn’t want this found.”

  Josiah rubbed his jaw. “No, I don’t think they do.”

  “Be careful, Josiah.” Her unblinking, glittering gaze fixed on him. “I see violence surrounding this.”

  He was always careful. “We knew the closer we got, the more dangerous things would become.” They never mentioned their adversary by name in case it triggered his attention. “You said this connects. Does this lead to our target?”

  “I think it might. A lot depends on the choices we make and if we can follow the twists and turns of the thread.” Her blank expression fractured into frustration. “Our circle may be protective, but it also limits my sight. I need to step out to see more.”

  “Stop,” he said immediately. “It’s not worth the risk. You’ve confirmed there’s a connection to our prey, and that’s enough for now.”

  The glitter left her eyes, and she began to shudder. “I also heard a lot of spirit whispers down that winding thread. Souls that have been killed or maimed.”

  A pained silence greeted that.

  Anson asked softly, “Were any of them ours?”

  They had all lost something to the one they hunted. Family members, former lives they had lived. Josiah had lost years of his life. Their loss was what united them. Still, he thought as he saw the stark grief flash over Maria’s expression, it wasn’t fair to ask her.

  In spite of that, her reply was gentle. “I don’t know, Anson. I didn’t catch a glimpse of specific faces or hear names. But it’s possible.”

  “I apologize.” Anson rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s all right,” she told him. “Believe me, I understand.”

  Josiah stepped to the center to retrieve the paper. Unfolding it, he held it out to Richard, who studied the contents closely before handing it to Anson.

  The paper reached Henry, who came to attention like a hound scenting blood. “This looks interesting.”

  “Yes,” Josiah said. “It’s also significant enough that we can’t afford to mishandle it. I want to start with some forensic accounting. Henry, see what you can trace using mundane techniques. Work with Steven to make sure you don’t trigger any magical snares and remember—we need to be accurate and safe more than we need to rush. We haven’t come this far to get sloppy now.”

  Steven spoke over the FaceTime connection. “Henry should stay away from Atlanta while he works on this. Like I said the last time we convened, there are spells layered over the internet hubs in Atlanta. I’m pretty sure they’re alarms. They might be triggered by using certain search terms and databases. He needs to use a different IP address.”

  “Is Birmingham far enough out?” Henry asked.

  Steven paused. “I think so.”

  Henry grinned at Maria. “Guess I’m bunking on the couch for now.”

  She snorted. “I’ll do even better than that and pick up an air bed for you.” Her dark gaze shifted to Josiah. “Want me to stay on task?”

  Maria’s job was monitoring the various bugs he had planted throughout the district attorney’s offices, his city apartment, and around the exterior of the Atlanta safe house.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Chances are Sullivan’s Seychelles funds are somehow connected to Sherman & Associates. Richard, I want you to start digging into Russell Sherman’s background. Again, use only mundane techniques. No magic.”

  “What about me?” Anson asked.

  Anson was Josiah’s man on the ground while his time was eaten up by working the DA job. “If things remain quiet, you can return on Wednesday and resume providing backup.”

  The older man nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  A short time later, Josiah said his goodbyes. As he drove back to the city, he began to smile. The years of careful preparation were beginning to pay off. He had no doubt they would soon have their quarry in their sights.

  Then the endgame would begin.

  * * *

  For the rest of that week, Molly practiced diligently until she could hit both stationary and moving targets and she no longer had to struggle to reach the Power that resided deep within her core like a golden well of light.

  The results of her blood tests came back. She was relieved to hear they were all negative, though she’d have to have follow-up HIV tests in six months to be certain. She also found a broker to sell her jewelry, including her diamond engagement ring.

  It had appreciated dramatically over the past twenty years, and everything sold within a couple of days. After paying the broker’s fees, she added another significant amount to her expanding bank account.

  On Wednesday, Nina had a draft of the divorce settlement ready for her approval. After discussion and a few alterations, Nina had the papers served to Austin first thing Friday morning.

  Austin might take days or even weeks to consider the papers and respond, but Molly knew he would read them that morning. She could almost sense him flipping through the package, his fury ratcheting higher with every page.

  That thought put her in such a celebratory mood she went car shopping and decided to buy a new Jeep Cherokee. Since she paid in cash, the process took less time than it would if she had taken out a car loan.

  By midafternoon, she was free to drive her new car off the lot. As she started the ignition, her cell phone rang. After making sure the car was in park, she checked the phone. Nina’s name lit the screen.

  Molly’s heart pounded. She punched Accept. “Nina, what’s up?”

  “Excellent news,” Nina said. “Austin accepted the settlement and signed the papers.”

  “Wow, that was fast.” Vindication, triumph, and relief rioted through her veins along with a healthy dose of shock. “He accepted all our terms?”

  “All of them. He signed over the deed to the house, the retirement accounts, everything.”

  She coughed out an incredulous laugh, then swiped at her face. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  Nina said gently, “It’s because you know there’s no miracle that will fix your broken marriage.”

  “I guess. I already knew it, but this makes it more real.” She leaned back in her seat and stared sightlessly out the window. “Mostly I feel relieved, and I’m still really angry.”

  “That might take some time to process. For now, try to celebrate. You’ve got him by the balls, and he knows it. And you know what’s worse for him? He knows we know it. He’ll be out of the house by the end of next week, and you can take possession next Saturday. I’m headed to the courthouse, so I’ll get this filed this afternoon. You’re on your way, Molly.”

  “Thank you for everything.”

  After they disconnected, she sat for several more minutes with her phone in one hand. Then she called Josiah.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Molly.”
>
  “You’re still an asshole.”

  “You’re still Captain Obvious,” he replied. He sounded busy and annoyed. “Still angry over that stupid kiss?”

  She clenched her free hand on the steering wheel. It still stung that it had meant nothing to him.

  What the hell, she thought. I put one man on a hook today. Might as well try for another one. In a steady, cold voice, she said, “So you think kissing me is stupid?”

  The change in atmosphere was almost electric. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Isn’t it?” She imagined each syllable like an ice pick driving into his skin. “You made it abundantly clear on Monday how you only kissed me to get me riled.”

  The intensity on the other end increased until she felt like her ear might start to sizzle. He bit out, “That is not what I said.”

  “It’s exactly what you said,” she snapped. “You kissed me to rile me up. You wanted to make me do what you wanted me to do. You manipulated me—again. And maybe you only manhandled me a little, but what makes you think a little is acceptable? Then you got condescending when you talked about tolerating me because I dared to respond with outrage. So yeah, I’m still angry, and I don’t know when or if I’m going to forgive you. And I certainly don’t know if I’m going to trust you again.”

  Silence pulsed. When he spoke again, the impatient annoyance had left his voice and he sounded serious. “Okay. You’re right about all of it. I behaved badly, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

  She told him, “That’s what you should have said on Monday.”

  She could hear his slow, staggered breathing and began to count. Four. Seven… One side of her mouth lifted. He was using the four-seven-eight breathing technique.

  She’d gotten under his skin.

  Good. He deserved it.

  When he finally spoke, he sounded brisk and calm. “Is that why you called?”

  “No, but I’m glad I got it off my chest.” She ran her gaze over the dealership’s busy parking lot. “Austin accepted the divorce settlement approximately ninety minutes after he received the papers. My lawyer is filing the papers this afternoon. I’ll let you know when the divorce is finalized. That’s all.”

 

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