“He was looking for you.” Gloria pulled salad dressing out of the fridge. “He thought you might be staying here. He said you’d had a fight, but I already knew that. Melinda found out. Her son Graham is dating one of the Johnson girls that works at Austin’s firm.”
“I wondered if you’d heard something.” Again, she lied. She had to find a way to stop that. Where was her authentic self when Molly needed her the most?
Her mother brought the salads over along with silverware and the dressings, then sat to eat. “So, have you talked to Austin?”
“No.” She pushed the plate away.
“Well, don’t you think it’s time you did? You’ve had your fight, but it’s over. Now it’s time to move on. He’s worried about you, and he’s hurt.”
No mention of Molly’s feelings. No question about whether or not she might be hurt.
She asked, “Did Melinda tell you what the fight was about?”
Gloria speared a small, bite-sized piece of ham. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past. The important thing is that you work on fixing your marriage and look to the future.”
Her blood pressure was rising with every passing minute. “I’m not going back to Austin. I’m filing for divorce.”
Gloria’s eyes flashed up. She set down her fork and knife. “Impossible. You can’t. He’s the breadwinner, and he has been for the past fifteen years. You haven’t done anything in your life except support him.”
“Yes, by all means.” Her jaw angled out. “Let’s ignore the fact that being a successful law partner’s wife can be a full-time job in itself, or that I fundraised almost three hundred thousand dollars last year for a charity just by working as a part-time volunteer.”
“None of that paid you a living wage.” Gloria pointed at her. “You’ll take him back if you know what’s good for you. You’ll never be able to get a job that will give you the lifestyle you’ve grown accustomed to.”
Her temper started to bubble over. “I can’t stand the thought of being in the same zip code with Austin, let alone trying to live in the same house or, my God, sleeping in the same bed again. The marriage has been over for a long, long time. I’m meeting with an attorney tomorrow. The money will work out somehow.”
Gloria’s gaze fired with an angry light. “I did not raise you to quit on your marriage just when things get tough.”
“When things get tough?” she repeated incredulously. “Mom, he cheated on me. In my own bed. He cheated on me repeatedly—and then he was verbally abusive about it. The only thing I regret is staying with him as long as I did when, deep down, I knew better.”
“So he cheated on you,” Gloria said bitterly. “Men cheat. It’s what they do. You can’t expect to find another man who will treat you any differently, and you’re too old to start over. You have no real job experience, and your degree is eighteen years old. If you leave him, you’re throwing your life away with both hands.”
Halfway through Gloria’s speech, Molly realized that once again her mother wasn’t talking about her. Gloria was talking about herself.
“Mom, what are you saying? Did Dad cheat on you?”
Gloria looked down at her napkin as she folded it precisely. “Your father and I had our share of problems, but that’s none of your business. He loved you, and he wanted the best for you, as do I. You’re making a huge mistake, Molly Ann. Go back to Austin while you can.”
Talking to her mother was as draining as she’d known it would be. “We’re not going to see eye to eye on this. You’ll just have to trust that I know how to look out for myself.”
But Gloria remained unconvinced, and eventually Molly gave up and made her escape. In the car, she checked her phone. There were more messages, several from Austin. She deleted them and started her car.
As she approached the city, the Atlanta skyline came into view. The tops of two of the buildings were tipped with gold, and as she drew nearer, lights illuminated the floors of several of the towers, sparkling like diamonds.
In the rosy gentle light of the deepening spring evening, the skyline looked like a fabled city in a fairy tale, a place that someone might fight with everything they had to reach, where one might hope to find brains, a heart, some courage, or to discover the way to go home.
As for the wizard… There was only one person that could be. Josiah. But he was too magnetic and powerful in a way she had never known before, both personally and magically. His dark, polished essence frightened as much as it enticed her.
She could feel the urge to go to him, and it disturbed her. He tugged at the weakest, most vulnerable part in her right when she needed to find her strength, not collapse into old, negative patterns of behavior.
Consumed by her thoughts, she parked the Escalade in the hotel parking garage and made her way to the lobby’s bank of elevators. All she wanted to do was take a shower and put her feet up, maybe watch some mindless television and then go to bed.
“Molly!”
She had been watching the floor as she walked. At the sound of Austin’s voice, she jerked her head up.
He strode across the lobby toward her, handsome face hard and eyes glittering.
Her mind launched into frantic speculation. How had he found her? Had he used the firm’s private investigator? Or—damn it, she had used her credit card. All he’d had to do was check their bank’s website.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. The expression on his face, along with the tight, fast way that he moved, told her everything she needed to know. He was the angriest, iciest she had ever seen.
Another quick glance told her that nobody was around to witness what happened next. Earlier the hotel had been busy, but by an odd trick of circumstance, now traffic was at a minimum. And nobody stood at the concierge desk or the check-in desk.
She didn’t pause to question her instincts. Instead, she bolted.
Chapter Four
Austin called out again sharply. She knew without looking that he was racing after her.
Bursting out of the nearest exit, she darted west and immediately ducked behind a six-foot-tall potted plant by the hotel entrance. A moment later, Austin raced past.
She slipped back into the hotel, ran to the elevators, and jabbed the Up button repeatedly. Her feint wouldn’t confuse Austin for long. As soon as he looked around and realized she wasn’t anywhere to be seen, he would head back inside.
It didn’t matter. All she wanted was to get to her suite and slam the door on the world.
The elevator doors opened. She darted in, punched the button for her floor, then held her finger on the Close button. As the elevator doors slowly closed, she saw Austin race into her line of sight. Their eyes met for an instant before the doors shut.
Damn it! Now he would be able to trace what floor she got off on.
Quickly she punched several other buttons. Then, with a shaking hand, she pinched the back of her neck.
Even if he managed to narrow down which floor she was on, there were a lot of suites and rooms on each level. He couldn’t know which room she was in. He could knock on every door, but if he did, she didn’t have to answer. And the suite had a strong security door. He wouldn’t get into her space unless she let him. And she wasn’t going to let him.
When she reached her floor, she jogged to her suite and let herself in. Then she threw the latch and double-checked to make sure the door was locked.
Triple-checked.
Unable to help herself, she went over the same motions again and again. Latch, door, lock. Latch, door, lock. Latch, door, lock. I have to stop this, she thought, watching her hands as though they belonged to a stranger.
Her phone rang.
The phone that she had turned off.
Feeling hot and numb at once, she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She remembered turning it off. She distinctly remembered it.
Josiah’s name appeared on the screen.
She hadn’t entered his contact information into her phone. It shou
ld have shown up as an unknown number.
Moving on unsteady legs, she walked into the kitchenette, opened the microwave, and threw the phone inside. After slamming the door shut, she walked into the bathroom, braced her hands on the sink. Then she looked in the mirror.
She couldn’t see herself clearly. Tears were streaming down her face, and the lightning flashes had appeared at the edge of her vision again. She didn’t trust herself, and she really didn’t want to hurt anybody.
Wiping her cheeks, she told the woman in the mirror, “You’re going to be all right. I don’t know how, but you are. It’s going to be okay.”
Because someone needed to say that to her even if she couldn’t feel it.
Somehow everything was going to be okay.
* * *
Josiah’s phone rang as he sped toward Molly’s hotel. Glancing at the dashboard of his Audi TT coupe, he saw the caller was Anson, so he punched the button to answer.
Anson’s voice came over the speaker system. “Do you feel that?”
“Of course I do,” he said grimly as he gunned around a street corner at a yellow light.
“Maria’s picking up on it all the way from Birmingham, which is over two hours away. Is that Molly Sullivan?”
“Yes. I want you, Richard, and Henry to leave Atlanta. Meet up with Maria in Birmingham.”
Anson swore. “Fine. For how long?”
“Let’s play it by ear. Steven’s still in New York, so he should be all right.”
“We can’t sit in limbo forever.”
“I know, but we also can’t afford to take unnecessary chances, and we’re not ready for a confrontation. Just leave for now and hold tight. I’ll get back to you soon with further instructions.” He punched the button that ended the call.
She was spewing chaotic Power again, and this time it wasn’t a brief spurt. Chernobyl was having another meltdown. And he didn’t have her cell number, so he cast a spell to make a phone call go through to her, but she didn’t pick up.
When he’d felt her Power surge, he had just finished putting in an appearance at his official apartment and was en route to the safe house. As luck would have it, he was only a mile away from the hotel. The chaotic Power lay in that direction.
He arrived a few minutes later. Whipping into a parking space on the street, he cast a cloaking spell over himself, put his phone on vibrate, and raced into the hotel.
Finding Molly’s floor ended up being easy. He made his best guess, and when he exited the elevator on the eleventh floor, he could tell he’d gone too far up, so he loped down the stairs until he stopped on the landing of the ninth floor.
This was definitely the floor. He pushed through the stairwell door.
There were dozens of rooms and suites on each floor, but her energy signature shone like a beacon in his mind’s eye. Unerringly, he turned right.
Down the hall, Austin Sullivan stood, talking to one of the hotel guests. Josiah felt an urge to violence as he came to a standstill. At the party, Molly and Sullivan had hurled nasty things at each other, but Molly’s words had come from a place of truth and deep hurt while Sullivan had deliberately chosen to be cruel.
He was a snake, and Josiah would have no problem crushing him under his heel. But violence wouldn’t solve Josiah’s bigger issue, so he checked the impulse and coldly watched the exchange between Sullivan and a middle-aged woman.
Sullivan said, “I’m sorry again for bothering you.”
“No problem.” The woman in the doorway smiled. “I hope you find your wife.”
“Thank you, so do I. This whole thing has been a misunderstanding.” The snake gave the woman a charming smile.
Sullivan’s presence had to be the cause of Molly’s meltdown. She must know he was here. Josiah tossed around ideas for how to get rid of the other man without revealing his presence. Perhaps a panic spell would work.
General panic spells were interesting in how they affected the unwary and unaware. They caused the victim’s mind to supply the reason for the panic by elevating their own phobias and fears.
Yes, that would do. After the woman had shut her door, Josiah tossed out the casting.
Sullivan had started walking to the next door, toward Josiah. When the spell hit, he slowed to a stop and glanced around. One corner of Josiah’s mouth tilted up in a hard smile as the other man frowned and the conscious charm in his handsome expression transformed into anxiety.
Maybe Sullivan was recalculating the risk of drawing attention to himself by knocking on doors. Maybe he would think about what trouble he might get in if a guest complained. Or maybe he had an irrational fear of carpet. Josiah didn’t fucking care as long as the spell drove him to leave the hotel as quickly as possible.
Sullivan paused, clearly struggling with himself. Then one of the hotel doors opened and a couple stepped out, giving him a curious glance as they walked past, and he broke. He pushed past them and headed for the elevators.
Leisurely, Josiah stepped out of his way and remained flattened against the wall until the couple had left. Then he thrust the other people out of his mind and headed toward Molly’s room.
He located her chaotic Power at the third door from the end of the hallway, opposite where Sullivan had talked with the woman. Logic said Sullivan wouldn’t have been heading back toward the bank of elevators if he hadn’t already gone down the other side of the hall first.
So he had to have already knocked on Molly’s door. Josiah imagined her looking out the peephole to find her ex-husband standing outside. No wonder she was stressed.
She hadn’t picked up when he had called, so he knew she wouldn’t welcome him standing at her door either. He placed a hand on the door’s smooth surface and scanned the interior. Her distress beat at his senses.
Okay. He didn’t dare cast a calming spell in her direction. As subtle as they could be, she had already picked up on the other subtle influence spells he had cast, and she wouldn’t welcome another one right now.
He only had one real option. Digging deep for his own Power, he cast a wider cloaking spell—one big enough to encompass Molly’s space on the other side of the door and also conceal him from other guests. Carefully, he built the spell around them so that none of his magic brushed against Molly’s.
As the giant bubble formed, he held his breath.
Nothing happened. She didn’t charge out spewing accusations. The hallway remained empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slid into a sitting position in front of her door. Then he pulled out his phone and sent a group text to Anson and the others.
How is that? Better?
Their replies came back in the affirmative.
Anson asked in the group conversation: Do you still want us to evacuate?
Yes, he replied. They had invested too much time and care in entering Atlanta under the radar of their dangerous prey, and he didn’t want to blow it by being careless now. I’ll keep watch here. If nothing happens over the next two days, it should be safe enough for you to return.
Roger that.
After the exchange, silence settled in. Molly believed she was alone, and her internal crisis continued. This could be a long damn night, but at least maintaining the cloaking spell would cost less strength than the initial casting. He relaxed against the door, forearms braced on upraised knees and phone clasped in one hand, but he didn’t receive any further texts.
As it turned out, her upheaval didn’t last all night. She didn’t have the training or experience to sustain a large output of energy. After another hour her chaotic Power began to subside. As soon as it had lowered to a level that he deemed safe enough, he released the cloaking spell and stood.
Molly, Molly, he thought. What a spectacular inconvenience you’ve turned out to be.
He shook his head, then wryly headed for the exit. At least he should be able to get some sleep at the safe house tonight, which was good because his new job hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down.
And Atlanta’s new DA had a
big agenda and a lot to do.
The next day began as hectically as he’d suspected it would, but he had practiced law for a very long time, and nothing out of the ordinary occurred that was beyond his capacity to handle.
Midmorning, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and surged out of his chair to close the door to his office. He recognized that number. It was the same one that had shown up when he spelled the phone call to Molly.
Hitting Accept, he held the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
He heard traffic in the background. She was slow to speak, but he could muster a wealth of patience when it mattered.
“Josiah.”
Take it easy, son, he told himself as he relaxed back in his chair. Don’t scare her away again. “Molly. Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
She demanded, “How did you spell my phone last night?”
He found his lips curving in an amused smile. She was obviously still mad about it. “Have lunch with me, and I’ll tell you. Better yet, I’ll show you. It’s easy.”
“I can’t have lunch. I’m across town from your office.”
“Then have dinner with me. I have plans, but I’m happy to cancel them.”
“Maybe.” Her reluctance came through loud and clear.
His smile widened. “Such enthusiasm. It’s a good thing I have a healthy ego, otherwise my feelings might be hurt.”
She snorted. “Listen, you’ve done too many things to try to influence me, and I don’t trust you.”
“Ouch,” he said, his amusement turning rueful. Over the years, he had grown so used to using small influencing spells in order to get his way he often cast them without giving it a second thought. But she was too intelligent and sensitive, and he had been too heavy-handed. “I deserve that. Does it help to know I only cast spells that would give you an encouraging nudge in the right direction?”
“Because you’re the one who gets to decide what the right direction is?” Her voice turned hard. “Anyway, I don’t care. It’s manipulative, and if you do it again, I’ll find some way to retaliate.”
American Witch, Book 1 Page 5