Halfway Hexed Page 11

Bryn sized Smitty up, and I did not like the look of Bryn’s eyes. There was still some dark magic swirling around behind them.

  “Um—” I began.

  “No matter who’s driving, it’s always up to her where she goes,” Bryn said. He gave my arm a brief squeeze as the medics rolled me away.

  It took a little maneuvering to get through the lobby and out to the cement ramp. John Barrett and Mrs. Thornton were standing on the steps, and Gwen was with them. Barrett’s face didn’t have any of that friendly charm that I’d seen at Bryn’s. His face was world-leader, willing-to-torture-someone-with-a-needle-choker hard. As we passed them, I heard him say to them, “Is that so? Well, if it’s the Bible they want, someone should give it to them.”

  I stiffened, and one of the medics pulled the blanket up to cover me to the chin. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the icy cold of wearing a holy water-soaked dress in the November Duvall wind that had me shivering.

  Somehow when he said someone should give them a Bible, I didn’t think he meant he’d be popping a couple of Gideons in the mail. I clamped my jaw shut and grimaced.

  This here falls under the category of things that are not Tammy Jo’s problem, I told myself.

  If the Conclave’s superpowerful witches and wizards were going to do something nasty to retaliate against DeeDAW, I didn’t have to get in the middle of it.

  But the Conclave came to town because of you.

  But DeeDAW’s guys had assault rifles, for pete’s sake!

  You don’t know that DeeDAW called those guys.

  I believe I do. I believe I know it in my gut, I thought stubbornly.

  Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be your problem . . . tonight.

  Chapter 16

  I gave Smitty my statement while Dr. Suri cleaned my leg. He froze the wound with a painkiller and stitched up the skin with what looked a lot like blue fishing line.

  “This is a deep wound. I’m afraid you are going to have a scar,” Dr. Suri said.

  “I’m not worried. I’m a real good healer,” I said, then thought about the fact that there was barely a mark on me where Bryn had pulled an arrow out of my chest only a few days earlier. I’d always healed scratches quickly as a kid. I actually didn’t have a single scar from growing up, but I’d never really been hurt back then either. Recently though, I’d been seriously wounded. I should’ve still been healing. My recovery had been abnormally fast, hadn’t it? Half-faery fast? If so, that could be a real advantage, all things considered.

  Smitty was really nice on the drive back to City Hall. He asked me a lot of questions about who I thought the gunmen were, but I couldn’t say very much on that subject because I didn’t have any real facts myself. I did say that I thought the gunmen showing up might be related to Jenna and her friends trying to kidnap me.

  He frowned and said, “I’m going to take a closer look at their alibis that day. I’ll question ’em separately and make sure the stories match up.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. I didn’t tell him about them forming DeeDAW, since then I’d have to explain why they thought I was a witch in the first place.

  After we ran out of case stuff to talk about, he started reminiscing about the old days in high school. He brought Zach up about a hundred times. Smitty’s a lot of things. Subtle isn’t one of them.

  “I can drive myself home,” I repeated.

  "Where are you going to stay?”

  “People are after me, Smitty. Bryn’s got big iron gates and an armed security guy.”

  “I’m armed, and Heather decorated that guest room up. No one’s even used it yet. It’s got its own bathroom that she filled with some spa soap that cost twelve dollars a bar.”

  I whistled. “Twelve dollars a bar? That must be some good soap!”

  “So she says,” he muttered skeptically.

  He waited for me to say more, but I didn’t take him up on his offer. To his credit, he didn’t get mad, and I decided I’d be happy to almost save his life anytime he needed me to.

  I climbed out of the car, feeling the stitches tug as they worked to hold my skin together. The throb let me know the medicine Dr. Suri used to deaden my leg was wearing off. I waved at Smitty and waited until I got in my car to call Bryn. He said he was just finishing up at the station and I told him I felt well enough to drive, so I’d meet him back at his house.

  When I parked in the driveway, Merc stood by the front door, waiting for me.

  “Hey there,” I said. “The party wasn’t so hot. Ended up in a gunfight.”

  He purred.

  “Yeah, I got shot. Nothing too bad obviously. I sure don’t know what I’m going to do about DeeDAW or the Conclave. I’d like to stay away from both and concentrate on the brooch.”

  Merc cocked his head, and I walked around to the car’s trunk. "When Bryn gets home I’m going to show it to him. Maybe he can help me figure out whether she’s alive.” I opened the trunk, and my jaw dropped. It was empty. I bent closer.

  "Are you kidding me? You have got to be kidding me!”

  Neither my spellbook nor my brooch was there. I hurried to the side of the car and peeked in the windows. Nothing on the seats. I went back to the trunk and checked once more before exclaiming, “For cryin’ out loud, Merc!” I slammed the trunk shut. “We’ve been robbed.”

  I examined the lock. It didn’t look like it’d been tampered with. Could a regular person pick the lock without leaving a mark? Or had someone used magic to open it? I barked out these questions to Mercutio, who only looked at me thoughtfully.

  “C’mon,” I said, going into the house. I was still sitting on the settee in the foyer when Bryn opened the door.

  “I got an interesting message while waiting to give my statement. A call from a WAM solicitor who wanted to congratulate me,” he said as he closed the door. He shook his head with a grim smile. “I won the appeal. Days ago. I knew there was a reason that Barrett didn’t demand that you move out of here immediately. He tried so hard to trap me today, all the while knowing that I’d already won and knowing that there were extenuating circumstances here last week where life and death were at stake. The son-of-a-bitch.” His voice grew more hoarse as he talked. He swallowed with a wince. “That’s all right. I’ve got a call in to Basil Glenn from the Department of Justice and to a judge I’m friendly with. Barrett is pushing me. Let’s see what he thinks of me pushing back.”

  "Bryn, you better be careful.”

  "Fortune favors the brave,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Not always. Sometimes all the brave guy gets is a real nice headstone.”

  “This warning from the girl who never backs down,” he said, walking to me and going down on one knee. “How’s your leg?”

  “Patched up.”

  “Can I look?”

  I nodded and raised the hem so he could see my calf.

  “Looks a lot better. Does it hurt badly?”

  “No, it’s okay. Where’s your tie?” I asked, looking at his open collar and the bruised skin.

  “My pocket. Couldn’t take it anymore.”

  I touched the skin gently. “Did you overhear anything at the police station? Do they know any more about the gunmen?”

  “No, it was pretty chaotic. People were upset. But whatever the gunmen’s connection to the town is, I’m sure Hobbs will find it. The mayor and the town council were there and one of his deputies was held at gunpoint; the sheriff’s department will be highly motivated to investigate and bring everyone involved to justice.”

  "What did people say about me? Anybody take what the gunmen said seriously?”

  “No. It was heroic of you to offer to go with them to defuse the situation so other people wouldn’t get hurt. People realize that. Hobbs read the statement you gave Smith and said he’ll be in touch about inter viewing you himself.”

  I nodded. “I just wish the gunmen hadn’t blamed me for the supernatural stuff that’s happened. Hear something often enough, and you start to believe it. Hate to see
that happen; for the truth to start to sound true,” I said with a sigh.

  “I’ve got the largest account at the bank. Under threat of closing it, I’ll put some pressure on Boyd Reitgarten to get his family to settle down.”

  I frowned, not sure that was a good idea. Maybe they’d just start targeting Bryn, too.

  “Though I’m not sure Jenna and Lucy were directly involved in tonight’s plan. They looked pretty shell-shocked at the station.”

  “Well, Sue and Mindy didn’t seem shocked while they were dumping water on my head.”

  Bryn shrugged. "When I was at the police station, I talked to some of my neighbors. John Barrett’s been to Macon Hill several times since he’s been here.” He set my leg down. “Right about now, I’m sure he’s trying to figure out a way to claim a piece of it.”

  I raised my brows. I didn’t want Barrett to get too interested in any part of Duvall. I wanted him and the Conclave to hurry up and leave.

  “I was at the tor today,” I said. “Good thing Barrett didn’t come to visit it while I was there. You know what else? Someone stole jewelry out of my trunk, along with my medieval spellbook.”

  Bryn sat down next to me. "When?”

  “Tonight.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My upswept hair had partially fallen down and was hanging haphazardly. I could feel that my makeup was smudged, too. It was a goal of mine to avoid mirrors until I’d gotten cleaned up. “Think it was the Conclave?”

  In some ways I hoped it was. I didn’t want the spellbook to have ended up in DeeDAW’s hands. I could just see them passing it around at coffee-and-donut social hour at church, saying: “Look here what we found in the trunk of Tammy Jo Trask’s car. Something’s gotta be done about that girl.” I frowned.

  “Possibly, but not likely. The Conclave might have wanted to see what spells you’re using and how much of your power’s accumulated in the book, but they wouldn’t take jewelry.”

  “Not even if it had a vision attached to it and maybe a dead spirit?”

  "Whose dead spirit?”

  “I don’t know. Someone from my family I think. I wish Edie was still here. I should’ve shown it to her.”

  “I really wish you wouldn’t have contact with disenfranchised spirits. I know having a family ghost has convinced you that they’re benign, but they can be dangerous.”

  “You know that from experience?”

  “I do, but it’s a long story, and it’s already been a long day.” He stood. “Do you need help taking a shower? I promise not to take advantage of the situation.”

  “That’s a real sweet offer, but I can do it myself. Except I think maybe I should take a bath, so I can keep my leg out of the water and won’t have to be standing up.”

  He carried me upstairs and set me on the bed in a guest room that’s a few doors down from his bedroom. The room was fern green with a potted tree in the corner and sage-colored carpeting. There were blooming vines on the wallpaper. It appealed to the part of my nature that loves nature.

  In the attached bath, Bryn filled the Jacuzzi tub partway, setting everything I’d need on the ledges.

  “There’s a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. You should sleep here tonight, so you don’t have to go up and down the stairs.”

  “Okay.” I stood and turned. “Unzip me.”

  His fingers were light and didn’t linger. I held the dress together until I got into the bathroom and closed the door.

  It wasn’t too hard to manage, and I sank down into the warm water with a sigh. I nearly fell asleep, but since I’m not drown-proof like Bryn, I thought I’d better get moving. After washing my body, I drained all the water so I wouldn’t soak my leg while I washed my hair under the tap. I wrapped myself in the thick white bathrobe and shuffled out.

  Bryn, who’d obviously showered, too, since he had wet hair and wore a bathrobe, was leaning against the bedroom doorway.

  "What’re you doing?”

  “I brought you a hairbrush and Motrin.”

  “Oh,” I said, pulling back the bedspread. He could’ve left them on the nightstand. “But what’re you really doing?” I got in and smoothed the covers over me.

  He walked to the bed and sat on the edge, handing me a glass and a pill, then he pulled the hairbrush from the pocket of his robe and set it on the bedside table. “Avoiding the part where I leave you.”

  I like it when he’s honest. And when he’s sweet. “If you stay on top of the covers, you can lie down here for a while.”

  “Not the best offer I’ve had from you,” he said with a smile. He walked around the bed and lay down on his back next to me.

  I reached over and tugged his arm to my side, then intertwined our fingers. The magic thrummed against our palms. “That better?”

  "Always,” he said.

  “Let’s rest,” I said, turning off the lamp.

  “Quite a roller coaster today.” In the darkness, his voice was a soft rasp, so intimate it made me shiver.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  "After the interrogation, all I wanted to do was stay home and coat my throat with half a bottle of whiskey.” I heard that trace of an Irish lilt that I loved and was always listening for. “Then I walked into City Hall and saw you in that dress. Better than whiskey, Tamara. A lot better.”

  I smiled in the darkness.

  “Then the gunmen came,” he said, his voice like gravel under bike tires. “They thought they would just drag you out. You went along; I knew you would.”

  “I figured maybe I’d get away, maybe not, but no point in more people getting hurt when they only wanted me.”

  “And I was supposed to stand by and watch them take you?” His breath came out slowly, thoughtfully. “If we hadn’t been able to overtake them with guns, I would have lit up that place like it was Samhain all over again.”

  "Lucky you didn’t. That much magic, people would’ve noticed.”

  “Yeah, it would’ve compromised my cover somewhat.”

  “Somewhat,” I said, laughing softly. It was nice to hear that he cared about me. Even as confusing as things were between us, I liked it. I rolled onto my side and felt for his face with my hand. I pressed a kiss onto his cheek. “Now, go to sleep. I’m pretty sure there won’t be any kidnappings or shootings going on tomorrow, but sometimes things around here get worse before they get better.”

  Chapter 17

  On Sunday morning, I woke with Mercutio purring in my ear. I was curled up next to Bryn with my head on his arm, and Merc was standing behind me on the edge of the bed. When I rolled toward Merc, he hopped silently down to the carpeted floor and waited.

  “I’m up.” I rubbed my eyes. "Why am I up?”

  I climbed out of bed, tightening the sash on the bathrobe, and padded out of the room after him. We went downstairs, and I followed Merc to the kitchen windows. I peeked outside. With the outdoor floodlights, I could make out the landscape. Trees and bushes. The Amanos River snaking behind the property. I didn’t see anything unusual.

  “The police took my gun, Merc. I don’t think I should go out in the dark without one. You want me to wake Bryn up and get him to give me a new one?”

  Mercutio stood with his hind legs in the sink and his front paws on the windowsill. With his head next to mine, he looked back and forth.

  The security phone on the wall rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Jiminy Crickets, I’m going to get a heart attack before I turn twenty-four.” I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Steve. What are you looking for?”

  I looked around me, trying to find the hidden cameras. Reportedly, there were cameras downstairs and in the upstairs hallway, but not, Bryn promised, in any of the bathrooms or bedrooms. Also, he’d said there weren’t cameras in his study, which gave me ideas.

  “I’m not sure. Mercutio, you know, my cat—?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, he got me up. You see anything suspicious on your cameras of th
e grounds?”

  A bunch more floodlights blinked on, so I could see quite a bit better. I remembered that some of the lights were motion-activated.

  “Did you turn those on?” I asked sharply.

  “Yeah, so I could get a better look. Still don’t see anything.”

  “Well, Merc senses something, and he’s better than all your high-tech gadgets put together.”

  Merc hopped out of the sink and walked to the fridge, putting a paw on it.

  "Although, now he’s gotten interested in food, so maybe whatever it was is gone.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  I hung up the phone and opened the fridge, finding that Mr. Jenson had left a raw game hen, a whole trout with its head still intact, and a chunk of ham next to a carton of heavy cream.

  “I think you’ve got your own shelf, Merc.” I set the hen on a plate on the floor. Mercutio yowled softly and went to work.

  “Meet me in Bryn’s library when you’re done.”

  I walked down the hall, spine straight, not shifty. Didn’t want to look guilty for the cameras. I opened the door and strolled in.

  Like most things in Bryn’s house, the study’s pretty amazing. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with a ladder on wheels to get stuff off the higher-up shelves. Some of the books are locked behind custom-made stained-glass doors with images of the cosmos.

  There’s a brown leather couch, matching chair, and big square ottoman across from a stone fireplace. On the opposite side of the room, there’s a heavy wood desk with carved legs. I rolled the ladder to the far left of the bookshelves and climbed up.

  Just as I’d suspected, there were magical textbooks. Bryn’s superorganized, so they were just where I’d expected them to be—at the beginning. Normally they were probably glamoured, but since he was just building his power back up, he probably wasn’t wasting any magic for the smaller stuff.

  I was hoping to find an “Introduction to Magic” book, but didn’t. I was ready to take down one called Prometheus’s Domain: Foresight & Divination, but then a black book with old-style lettering caught my eye. It had a single word etched on the spine in silver. Death.