“And what did you see when you got in?”
“My sister was tied to the ground.” She could recall every detail of the room, like casting herself back in time. “There was a circle of chalk drawn on the floor around her, with symbols. She was crying and writhing around like she was in pain.”
“What happened next?”
“Abby and Scott worked on calming Cecily down,” Callum interjected, beside her, “while the rest of us worked on getting Cecily free.”
“Who cut the ropes she was tied down with?”
“That was Abby,” Callum replied. “I slid the knife to her and she used it to cut the rope.”
The detective paused long enough to write in his notebook before looking up again. “And how did the suspect end up out cold?”
Zander grimaced. She really hoped Callum didn’t get in trouble for that—as badass as it had been. She slipped her fingers between his and gave them a squeeze. They’d sat on the floor of the apartment for a couple of moments after Abby and Wren went downstairs. Zander had been surprised, in a way, that Callum hadn’t insisted on doing the checking. But maybe he’d known she needed him just then. He’d held her, and she’d fought back delayed tears of terror.
What if they hadn’t gotten there when they did? What would have happened to her sister?
Her hip, which had taken the brunt of the fall when she’d been launched backward, had begun to ache sitting on the floor, so they’d gotten up just a moment before the police had barged into the room, guns drawn and barking orders.
Hands up, they’d been ordered back onto the floor. She’d never been handcuffed before—not outside of she and Callum’s bedroom—and the private smile they’d shared as the cuffs clicked home was inappropriate and out of place. But it was hard to be scared just then. They’d won.
At least, she hoped they had.
The cuffs had been released within minutes and by the time they were escorted downstairs, Cecily was already in the back of an ambulance and Abby and Alyssa were chatting with an officer—the same one she and Callum were talking to now.
“That would be me,” Callum said, responding to the officer’s question. “I cold cocked Marcus.”
One of the officer’s eyebrows raised. “You just slugged the guy in the face.”
“I mean, he came at me first.”
The officer went back to writing in his notebook, but Zander thought she could see the edge of a begrudging smile on his mouth.
“Look, I don’t know who’s luckier, the girl you saved, or the rest of you,” he said when he looked up again, hard-ass composure intact. “It seems like your instincts were right. The eyebolts in the floor corroborate your story, plus the girl’s got the ligature marks to prove it.”
Zander gave a nod, the tightness in her chest loosening with the police officer’s words. The entire time she’d been talking to him, there’d been this tiny voice in the back of her mind that was worried they were all about to get into some deep shit. She’d left everything magical out of the story because she didn’t want the officers to think they were all cracked. They clearly already thought Marcus was—and all the better to leave him as the sole weirdo in their view.
But even with all the magical shit aside, technically, they’d broken into Marcus’s apartment. Technically, Callum had assaulted the guy.
She really hoped they weren’t about to end up back in handcuffs.
“All that said,” the officer went on, drawing Zander’s attention again. “Next time—and hopefully there never is a next time—wait for the police. Understand?” His voice was firm but caring. “You had no way to know if that guy was armed. He could have shot every one of you and we’d be cleaning up bodies. Got it?”
Shit. She hadn’t thought of that. They all gave some semblance of slightly sheepish agreement before footsteps from behind drew their attention.
She jumped when Marcus appeared at the top of the stairs. He was flanked by two uniformed officers, one on each arm, as they walked him out of the building.
His eyes caught on her almost immediately. “Zander! Zander, tell them!” The cops began muscling him down the stairs. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody. They don’t know what the real world looks like! Tell them what I was trying to do!”
Callum angled himself in front of her while Alyssa slid closer to her side.
“Don’t respond,” Alyssa said, her voice low.
“Alyssa! Alyssa I can always count on you!” Marcus yelled as they got him to the cop car. “Don’t let them get to you! You know me!”
The officer they’d been speaking with stepped in front of Alyssa and stayed that way until Marcus was closed into a cop car, his continued exclamations muffled.
The officer turned around with an eye roll. “Charming.”
Zander had to smile. Under other circumstances, she could see herself being friends with this guy.
“Anyway, obviously we have enough to take him in,” he said, returning to where he’d been standing before. “Actually, I do have one more question. Tell me about that chalk circle again. We didn’t find a circle.”
“I have pictures.”
Zander felt her brows furrow as she turned to see Alyssa fishing her phone from her back pocket. When the hell had Alyssa taken pictures?
She consulted the screen for a moment, then handed the phone to the detective. “There were more than enough of us to help Cecily, so I hung back and took pictures. I spoke to Detective Smith earlier and told him about the photos, but he hasn’t seen them yet. There’s lots. Swipe to the right to see them all.”
Alyssa seemed to notice the way Zander was staring at her. “I’m a legal assistant for a criminal prosecutor’s office,” she remarked with a shrug. “I know what evidence looks like.”
“Is that right? Which prosecutors?” The detective looked up from Alyssa’s phone.
“Goddrich, Markham, & Penn.”
The officer’s eyes lit with recognition. “I’ve testified on a few of their trials. Good lawyers. Really fair—and really thorough.”
Alyssa’s smile was tired but true. “Yeah, that’s the goal.”
“These are pretty damn incriminating,” he remarked. He looked up at Alyssa. “Mind if—”
“Take the phone,” she said before he could finish. “I don’t want to risk making them inadmissible by emailing them.”
The detective nodded, reaching into a pocket on his belt and drawing out a plastic bag. “It won’t leave my side until we’ve gotten it back into your hands.”
Alyssa smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Anything for somebody from GMP. Did you work on the Barnes-Lynch trial?”
Now it was Alyssa’s eyes that lit with recognition. “I did! I knew I recognized you! Detective Romero, right? How is your partner?”
“He’s good—won’t ever be out in the field again, but he’s a saucy son of a bitch so who knows if he’ll prove ‘em wrong.”
Alyssa’s laugh was just as her smile had been—tired and genuine. “I hope he does.”
“Anyway, you’re all free to go,” Officer Romero said, then looked to Alyssa with a smile. “I’ll be in touch about your phone.”
He walked away, and Zander turned to Alyssa. “I’m surprised he didn’t ask for your number.”
Alyssa paused. “I mean, he sort of did, when he took down our contact information earlier. Plus he has my phone, so he’d just be calling himself...”
Zander laughed under her breath. “That’s not what I mean.”
Abby and Wren joined them, coming down the sidewalk from where they’d been speaking to another officer. Rhia turned around, tail wagging and tongue lolling at Abby, who crouched in front of her and began mussing the ruff of fur around her neck.
To her right, Callum looked down at Rhia. “You got any other truly terrifying tricks up your sleeve?”
Zander had seen Rhia oversized and vicious once before, after the Shadow had strangled her with Callum’s hands in her mom’
s apartment—she’d just assumed she was hallucinating due to hypoxia at the time. Callum, apparently, had never seen it.
“Who’s a good dog? You’re a good dog,” Abby cooed. “Yes you are. So big and scary. But only when you have to be, huh? Only to protect your people. Such a good girl.”
“She protected us alright,” Callum remarked like he still wasn’t sure what to make of the whole thing.
“Of course she did,” Abby replied as she rose to her full height. “She’s your familiar—and a badass one.”
“I thought she was just a really cool dog.” Callum glanced down at Rhia. “No offense.”
Abby laughed. “She is—sort of. If you ignore the whole lives-on-both-sides-of-the-veil-and-is-immortal thing.”
“Wait, what?”
Abby looked like she was surprised they were surprised. She laughed. “Oh, you were being serious. Wow, okay. We should talk later.” The funny thing was, Zander wasn’t even surprised. Nothing surprised her anymore when it came to spirits and magic. She looked to Wren with the plan of exchanging a look of entertainment—but Wren’s attention was rapt. She was staring at Abby with such love, her smile the warmest Zander had ever seen on her face.
“Okay, well on that note, I’m gonna go make sure we can get our cars out,” Callum said, stepping back from the circle and ticking a nod at Zander’s car across the street—squarely within the yellow tape that read “Police Line - Do Not Cross” and ran across the street and sidewalk at both ends of the block.
“We’ll come, too.” Abby looked down at Rhia. “Come on you terrifying beast, you.”
Rhia happily bound down the sidewalk between Abby and Callum. When Wren took Abby’s hand, they looked at one another and smiled.
“Hey, so, can you drop me back at my place on your way home?” Alyssa asked, pulling Zander attention.
“Yeah, I can. Or... you can come back to the house with us, if you want.” Zander knew she didn’t want to be alone right now. She couldn’t imagine Alyssa wanted to be either.
Alyssa smiled softly and blinked slowly. “Yeah, okay. Maybe for a while.”
As they began walking down the sidewalk after Callum and the others—making slow progress, thanks to Zander’s screaming hip—she tried to make conversation.
“So, how’d you know that police officer?”
“His partner was shot during a foot pursuit,” Alyssa replied. “The defense tried to cast doubt by saying the shot could have been friendly because the defendant used a police weapon bought on the black market.”
“Wow. This dude sounds like a winner.”
“It was a woman, actually,” Alyssa replied. “Which was unusual, to be honest. We had to prove the shot had come from the suspect’s handgun and not any of the officers in pursuit. Which wasn’t that hard, all things considered.”
Zander stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and not just because her hip hurt. She turned to Alyssa. “I had no idea that was going on for you.”
Alyssa gave her a look, brows and lips quirked. “Well, I couldn’t talk about it while it was happening, so of course you didn’t.”
“No, I mean—I knew you worked at a lawyer’s office. But I had no idea you worked on criminal cases at all.” Damn. She was pretty sure that made her a shitty sister.
Alyssa shrugged. “You’ve been busy. We both have.”
But was that a good enough excuse?
“Look, I don’t really fit in with you guys, ya know?” Alyssa said when Zander could only shrug. “So I focus on the places where I do.”
Ouch. Zander shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t help anybody feel like they fit when they don’t have the opportunity to.”
Alyssa’s expression turned questioning. “No offense, but that made no sense.”
Zander laughed under her breath and kept walking. “All I mean is that if we all spent more time together, maybe we’d all fit better.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Alyssa gave a shrug like she was really considering that. “I’m game if you are.”
“I’m definitely game.” Good. This felt right. They’d let this spooky/magic shit divide them for too long, but honestly, she knew that wasn’t the only reason—just the excuse they hung it on. On the way over, Alyssa had said that she hadn’t told them she’d been talking to Marcus because she didn’t want them to judge her for it. That it had happened way before Cecily or she had anything to do with veils, or spirits—before Zander had even moved out of the apartment she’d shared with her mom and sisters. Which made her think... “Also, one of us should call Mom and tell her what happened.”
“Not it!”
Damn it. She supposed that was an oldest-daughter kind of thing to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
When Wren opened her eyes the next morning, sunlight was pushing against the closed roll-down shades over the windows of her RV. Especially against the window that was right over her and Abby’s heads as they laid in bed together. It would have been uncomfortably muggy, except she wasn’t wearing any clothes so the warmth felt nice instead of overbearing.
So did Abby’s arm as it snaked around her waist. And her breasts against Wren’s back, her lips against the back of Wren’s neck.
They had pushed their way into the RV around seven, and Wren had been so exhausted she could hardly stand. She and Abby had undressed one another, kissing while they did it like they thought they were going to put the bed to good use before they fell asleep, but when they finally got horizontal they basically passed out.
Magic hangovers were like that.
“How are you feeling?” Abby’s voice was just-woke-up low and I-don’t-want-to-leave-this-bed quiet.
Wren turned her head slowly, the room only spun by a couple of degrees. “Better than when I got up to pee in the middle of the night.” She’d had to hold on to things to keep herself upright.
“You need tea.”
“I do need tea,” Wren agreed.
Neither of them moved.
“Okay, I’m getting up for tea.” Abby pushed herself up and Wren rolled onto her back so she could watch.
She liked the way Abby looked, walking around her RV like she lived there. Like she was a permanent fixture in Wren’s life. Her being naked while she did it didn’t hurt either.
“Other cabinet,” Wren said with a smile when Abby almost opened the cabinet for plates instead of cups and mugs.
Abby changed course and within a few minutes, she was carrying two steaming mugs of tea toward the bed.
Wren pushed herself up and tucked the sheets over her bare breasts more for protection than modesty. That ship had sailed a few nights ago. Her head swam as she reached for the tea.
Ginger. Perfect.
“Why am I this hungover and you’re up and about?”
“Are you kidding? All I did yesterday was lend you my magic. You did all the hard work.”
“You still expended a ton of magic helping me.” She brought the tea up to her lips, then pulled it back. Nope. Still too hot to drink.
“It’s not the same,” Abby replied between breaths spent blowing gently over the top of her mug. When she turned and pinned Wren with a look, her eyes were intense. “Wren, you saved the fucking world yesterday. I’m surprised you’re even able to speak right now. It’s barely been twenty-four hours.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “I did not. But I’m glad everybody’s okay.” She’d saved Zander’s world, and Scott’s, by helping to save Cecily. Helping being the operative word there.
Abby’s chin pulled back like Wren had slapped her. “What do you think that evil would have done if Marcus had successfully summoned it? Robbed a convenience store and, like, stole some CDs or some shit?”
“Since when can you steal CDs?” Wren laughed. “It’s not 2005. And... I don’t know. Whatever Marcus had planned, I guess.”
Abby’s laugh was full of yeah-right. “There is no way that fucker was going to keep control of that demon. God, grant us all the confidence of a p
iss poor white man, because I’m sure he had some really grand plans, but they were about to blow up in his face. He should be thanking us as much as anybody.”
Wow. Wren had to stop and think on that for a second—which, granted was a little more difficult than usual with the brain fog she was currently experiencing. It felt like the morning after that time she smoked too much weed in college.
“And, I’ll have you know,” Abby tacked on while Wren slowly ruminated. “We could buy CDs at the convenience store in the town where I grew up until I left. Hell, you probably still can.”
Wren had to laugh at that, thankful to be leaving harder thinking for later. “Aren’t you from Oregon?”
“Yes.”
“Where in Oregon can you still buy CDs?”
“Nehalem, that’s where.”
Wren just stared at her. “Nehalem.” Why did that name sound familiar?
“Population 271,” Abby replied with a nod. “Their biggest claim to fame is a song by the band—”
“Everclear!” That’s why it sounded familiar.
Abby’s eyes got wide. “Holy shit, you know that song?”
“I’ve heard it a few times. My cousin was into them when she was going through a nineties-emo-grunge phase.” They’d had to listen to the CDs in secret. Wren’s grandma would have thrown a fit if she’d heard some of the lyrics.
“That is an old song—that is sadly prophetic for so many townies from that era.” She shook her head. “Anyway, my family lives outside of town, but Nehalem was the closest town to us so that’s where we did our shopping and shit. It was awkward.”
“Awkward?” That was a curious description.
Abby sipped her tea. “It’s cool enough to drink now,” she said, tilting her head toward Wren before taking another sip. “And yeah. Nobody in town liked us. So, it was weird.”
“Why didn’t they like you? Did you, like, tip over their cows or something?”
Abby laughed. “Not many cows in Nehalem. No, they just...” She grimaced and threw Wren a glance. “They all thought we were witches.”
Wren nearly choked on her tea. “You are witches.”
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