A Lying Witch Book Two

by Odette C. Bell

  Was it just me, or did Dimitri’s affable smile stiffen? It was only for half a second, and you had to be staring at him with as much concentration as I was. But his jaw certainly twitched, and his eyes definitely narrowed a fraction. “Work? And you?” Dimitri ticked his gaze towards Max, but it quickly returned to me in a flash. “Is this work? Or play?”

  Eww. Okay, there was now no question that this guy was a jerk. Who the heck looked into somebody’s gaze and asked if they were play?

  Max hesitated, and it wasn’t because he was trying to be polite. Nope. One look at his expression, and it was clear he was trying to control his anger. “Neither.” He pulled me back, and his move should have been sufficient to break Dimitri’s grip. If Dimitri hadn’t taken a step forward to keep his sticky, firm fingers wrapped around my own.

  Holy crap, this had been a mistake. I should have done exactly what Max had suggested and stuck by his side, being as quiet as a little mouse hiding from the cat.

  Max’s expression now stiffened to the point it looked as if his features had been cast from concrete. “Is there any reason you can’t seem to let go of Chi’s hand?” he asked.

  A grin cracked across Dimitri’s face as fast as a fracture shifting through ice. “It’s Chi, ha? Cute.” He returned his gaze to me.

  My stomach did a flip and then twisted as if it were being sucked down a gurgling drain. And no, it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. It wasn’t the same kind of kick it did whenever Max drew close. Nope – just the opposite. My creep-alarm was suddenly blaring with everything it had.

  I now tried harder to pull my fingers from Dimitri’s grip. “Can I have my hand back now?” I even squeaked.

  Dimitri just ignored me as he returned his piercing, calculating gaze to Max. “You know, I didn’t think you’d show up again for a while – not considering what happened with your last charge.”

  Dimitri returned his attention to me. It was different this time. It wasn’t lecherous. It wasn’t even creepy. Nope. It was intense like his eyes had turned into two lasers and they were trying to bore through my skull. Despite the intensity, what he’d said struck me.

  Did Dimitri know how my grandmother had died? Max had forgotten, apparently a consequence of overusing his magic to protect my grandmother in her final moment.

  My thoughts happened in flashes, and I quickly reminded myself that I seriously needed my hand back from this creep.

  I planted my feet, shored up my shoulders, and yanked my hand. At the exact same moment, Dimitri let go. The result was I slammed hard into Max’s chest.

  Max certainly didn’t push me back. In fact, he kept his hand on my shoulder, shifting it down until it pressed further over my arm, the tips of his fingers tantalizingly close to my chest. It was almost as if he were pinning me to his torso like an embrace from behind.

  On any other day, that would have exhilarated me. Now, I had to stop myself from turning around, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and begging him to get me out of here.

  “Well,” Dimitri shifted back and leaned against the bar, “I’ll be seeing you around.” As he said that, he looked directly at me. Then he turned, shoved a hand into his pocket, and pulled out a loop of keys. They couldn’t have been for his car and house – not unless he had 100 cars and 100 houses. The key ring was megalithic. It jangled like an orchestra.

  I felt Max stiffen as Dimitri selected one of the keys. Now I paused to stare, I realized they all looked the same. Ornate, carved brass keys with blue and red baubles set on the top.

  They were familiar, and my gut kicked with unpleasant recognition. I’d seen a key like that before. And it had belonged to a truly odious man. Farley. He’d used one of those keys on the back door in Fagan’s bar to transport me away.

  “That’s a hell of a lot of transport keys,” Max commented, voice dark, even though it was clear he was trying to use all his control to keep his tone even.

  Dimitri grinned, the smile spreading all the way across his broad, handsome face. “Sure is. They’re perfect for when you need to get somewhere in a hurry. Anywhere, in fact. These are better than having your own private jet plane.” He jangled them, selected one, leaned forward, finished off his drink, and wiped his mouth in a smooth move. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” He shifted past, so close that his arm brushed up against mine. Though the interaction was brief, it was long enough for me to feel just how defined his strong muscles were. He had a physique like Max’s, except Dimitri had an even broader chest and was an inch or two taller. His arm brushing up against mine felt like I was trying to shoulder a bull.

  Dimitri walked away, hands in his pockets, his keys jingling.

  He reached one of the doors at the back of the bar, plucked one of the keys up, shoved it in the lock, and opened the door.

  I craned my neck to the side to catch a glance of where he was transporting to. I saw a flash of a long dark corridor with chairs stacked by the walls.

  A business of some sort?

  The door closed quickly, and I could see no more.

  … Which just left me pinned against Max’s chest. Now the creepy Dimitri had retreated, I was free to appreciate just how nice it felt to be as close to Max as his T-shirt.

  It didn’t last. He shoved me forward. Then he leaned in, drawing his face close to my ear. “That was stupid. You shouldn’t have said a word.”

  Instantly, my natural indignation flared. “That wasn’t my fault,” I spat back. “I couldn’t break his grip! He was holding onto my hand like a vice.”

  Max paused, and though I could only see a slice of his face out of the corner of my eye, it was enough to appreciate that he softened. “I’m not talking about that. You shouldn’t have interacted with him at all.”

  “I’m sorry, but you hardly prepared me for this situation, did you? You lured me here—” I began.

  Max straightened up. “Enough,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “We don’t have time,” he defaulted to saying.

  How very nice. Was he going to use that excuse to get out of every conversation now?

  Max was quick now. He didn’t linger as we walked through the bar. Instead, he walked with determined purpose until we reached the same door Dimitri had exited through. Max hesitated before he reached a hand out. In fact, he did something odd. I watched him open his mouth and saw his tongue curl and press against the top of his teeth. I heard him whisper something in that strange language he used whenever he was accessing his magic.

  I felt a charge of power. It was subtle, barely there, and yet unmistakable as it tingled through the air.

  He brushed his finger back and forth against the handle then jammed one of his short nails into the lock. Was this the magical equivalent of forensics? Was he trying to figure out where Dimitri had gone?

  I didn’t get my answer. A second later, Max stopped abruptly and thrust the door open.

  I kind of expected that it would lead back into that chair-lined darkened hallway. It didn’t. It led into the corridor beyond.

  He walked through. When I didn’t follow immediately, he leaned forward, latched that same hand on my same shoulder, and shoved me in with him. He closed the door then turned to me. “Do I really need to remind you how serious this situation is?” he snapped.

  There were so many ways I could respond to that – so many insults I could dream up. I could point out that this was all his fault. I could whirl on my heel, stalk away, and tell him to investigate this on his own time. Heck, I could just try to slap him and use that to communicate my disgust. I didn’t do any of those things, though. I just frowned. “Where did Dimitri go? I saw a flash of a hallway—”

  Max grumbled. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It clearly does. You obviously know that guy, and you obviously hate him,” my voice rang on the word hate as I tried to emphasize it with the vocal equivalent of an exclamation mark. “He’s a fairy, too, isn’t he?”

  Max looked as if he would ignore me but soon set his lips into a grim line.
“It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you stay away from him, understand?”

  I spluttered. “No. You haven’t told me—”

  “Fine, you want to know why you should stay the hell away from Dimitri?” Max’s eyes flashed with warning.

  I gulped.

  “I may lose my memory when I practice strong magic, but Dimitri….”

  “… Dimitri what?”

  His gaze locked on me with all the force of ropes. “Dimitri loses his control. The more he practices, the crueler he gets, the crazier he gets, the less he can see reason. So you stay away from him, you got it?”

  I paled, and it took a heck of a long time to find the energy to nod.

  Silence spread between us. Though Max clearly wanted to drop the conversation about Dimitri, suddenly I frowned. “Why… why did he have so many of those transport keys? Farley had one,” my throat tightened as I pushed his name out. “He gave me the impression they were expensive.”

  Max stopped growling. Maybe it was because of the raw emotion I’d shown as I mentioned Farley, or maybe it was something else.

  He gritted his teeth. “They are expensive. Extremely expensive. They are also hard to get hold of. You need to have… contacts.”

  My lips scrunched up and my nose crinkled, but it wasn’t a sneer – just a wince. “Contacts?”

  He hesitated and nodded low. “An ordinary fairy might be able to get their hands on one or two. But he had…” Max trailed off.

  “Hundreds,” I finished quietly. I felt itchy. Thoroughly itchy. Hot, too. These were not pleasant sensations, though. It wasn’t my body reacting to Max’s presence again. Instead, I swear it was a sense of foreboding. It wasn’t as crystal-clear as when I saw the future. Fireflies of sparking light were not charging across my field of view. That didn’t matter, though. The sensation was just as undeniable. Something told me Dimitri would be back, and those hundreds of transport keys would return to haunt us.

  Max didn’t seem to be willing to say anything more on the matter, and soon I fell into step behind him, appreciating just how tense his shoulders were and just how angry that experience had made him.

  I didn’t have much longer to assess that thought – we arrived at a door.

  Once more, he hesitated. He appeared to take a stiff breath before he locked his equally stiff fingers around the handle and twisted it.

  We walked in.

  I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting. Maybe some seedy magical den were people were playing the equivalent of fairy poker and gambling with people’s lives. Or maybe I just thought it would be a storeroom stacked with chairs and liquor.

  It was neither.

  What I got was a nervous looking, pretty young woman sitting on an upturned milk crate, ringing her hands together in obvious distress.

  As soon as Max walked in, she punched to her feet, a relieved expression slackening her features. “Max? God, I’m so relieved you’re here!”

  She wasn’t faking it. She sounded seriously relieved. You couldn’t deny her expression, either. Her lips spread into a kind smile, and her generous chest punched forward as she sucked in a deep breath.

  Max? He smiled. It was a charming, electric move. The kind of move designed to get any girl’s heart thundering.

  Max was my magical bodyguard – my magical pain, too. He was not my boyfriend. No matter what my pounding heart sometimes told me, we were not together, and that was never likely to change.

  So why did I feel a pang of jealousy as Max shifted forward and warmly clutched the woman’s hand? He shook it, squeezing it reassuringly before he took another step into the room. Me, I just hesitated in the doorway and wondered what the hell I was getting myself into. Jealousy aside, it was obvious this woman was in some kind of trouble. Just as it was obvious Max wouldn’t have brought me here unless he thought I could do something about that trouble.

  For the first time since I’d entered, the pretty young woman tilted her head back and looked at me. “Are you sure you can help?” she asked, almost as if she was giving me the opportunity to leave.

  Max, however, did not give me that opportunity. He turned and frowned. “Don’t hang around in the door. Close it and come in already.”

  My top lip ticked up, and I sneered at him. I still followed what he’d snapped, though. I walked in, closed the door, and tried to pretend the sinking feeling rushing through my stomach wasn’t my clairvoyant powers trying to tell me that this was the wrong thing to do.

  For the first time since clapping eyes on her, I actually looked at the young woman. She was about my age, but a little taller, a hell of a lot rounder, and a great deal prettier. Oh, she was also a witch. I didn’t need the magical bangle and necklaces she wore to reveal that fact. Not only was she in a magical bar, but I could vaguely sense her magic.

  “We have to stop him,” she stuttered over her words, taking deep gasping breaths between each. “I’ve lost six already. The police can do nothing. Not as long as he’s got friends on the inside of the force.”

  She was taking such large, stuttering breaths, that she sounded as if she were about to hyperventilate.

  Max quickly reached her, reached a hand out, and placed it on her shoulder.

  Immediately, I felt scandalized. Some part of my stupid brain suggested Max should only show familiarity like that around me. I quickly stifled that thought, crammed my hands into my pockets, tilted my head back, and forced myself to ask, “what are you talking about?”

  The woman frowned as she looked from me to Max. “You told me she volunteered to help?”

  It was my turn to frown. It was as deep as Max’s frown as he shot me a commanding look. “She did. Now, Sarah Anne,” he returned his attention to the woman, “did you bring it?”

  Jealousy aside, my stomach suddenly dropped, and my heart stilled.

  There was no faking the sorrow that flickered deep in Sarah Anne’s gaze.

  She clutched her hands together and rung them tightly, almost as if she were trying to pull her fingers from their joints. “There’s nothing we can do. We can’t stop him. We don’t know where he is, where he operates from. It’s just,” she clamped her teeth together as she tried but failed to stop herself from breaking down. Tears gushed from her eyes, streaking her cheeks.

  Max was by her side in an instant, clutching that same supporting hand on her shoulder.

  She leaned into it and offered him a smile.

  Though maybe my jealous brain should have picked up on that smile, instead I went with the compassion swelling in my heart. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I muttered. I’d never been particularly good at offering my condolences. Sure, I had practiced lines, I’d even practiced my expression. After all, people didn’t just come to fortune tellers to find out when they were going to get their next date. Often, it was because of loss.

  Sometimes you had to fake your condolences. Now I didn’t. Because you could tell how raw Sarah’s loss was. It paled her cheeks, hunched her shoulders, and made her look several inches shorter.

  “Oh, here it is.” She thrust a hand into her pocket and drew something out quickly. It was a crumpled-up photo. As soon as I saw it, my compassion kind of twisted around and slapped me.

  I couldn’t forget why I was here, right?

  Up until now, I’d been masterfully hiding from the reality of the situation. Now it reached forward and punched me in the gut.

  I was here to investigate another murder. No, scratch that – murders.

  I think my cheeks paled until they threatened to drop off.

  Sarah Anne ticked her questioning gaze towards Max, and he nodded towards me.

  She handed me the photo. I didn’t accept it. I wasn’t being deliberately rude, it’s just that my survival instinct was finally kicking into gear. Yeah, so I’d inadvertently solved the Farley murders, but that had been through pure luck and pure grit. Who the heck did I think I was that I could help with these murders? And, more to the point, why would I wa
nt to? I didn’t have any responsibility—

  I didn’t get the chance to finish that thought. Suddenly Max was beside me, practically growling into my ear.

  I jerked forward and grabbed the photo off Sarah. Big mistake. I didn’t even have to look at it. As soon as my fingers brushed up against the plastic paper, I felt a charge crackle off it and shift hard into my palm. It was an entirely unpleasant, foreboding, ominous sensation.

  The last week of relative quiet had lulled me into a false sense of calm and security. As soon as I clutched that photo, the security exploded with a bang. All at once, I was reminded of how awful it had been to endure the vision of that woman dying at the hands of Farley. I was reminded of the terror of those darklings climbing the window to get to me. I remembered the awful, visceral sensation of my visions slamming and tearing through my mind.

  So what did I do?

  I dropped the photo. My fingers just opened, and I jerked back.

  You should have seen Sarah Anne’s face – it went from one of controlled hope, to complete confusion.

  She leaned down to pick the photo up, possibly thinking that I’d simply accidentally dropped it as if somehow the light plastic paper had been too heavy for me or something.

  Max didn’t give her the opportunity to pluck the photo off the dusty floor. He leaned down, grabbed it up, and though he’d been several meters away, somehow he pushed up right next to me. He looked deep into my eyes and judged me with the full force of his fury. “You agreed to help,” he reminded in a soft, quiet, barely audible tone that was clearly designed not to carry to Sarah Anne.

  Had I, really? I’d agreed to go out with him and do some simple investigations. I hadn’t agreed to meet with this woman and have her hand me a photo of one of the dead. Max had planned this. Every step of the way. He’d obviously organized this meeting with Sarah Anne, as she’d been waiting here for us. But had he shared a word of that with me? Of course not. So this asshole could go to hell.

  I pushed away from him, heading for the door. I didn’t get a chance to reach it.