“He wants to wipe out our line. He won’t be happy if you beat him to it.”
“He doesn’t care who kills you, he just wants you dead.”
“Swell.”
“I need a sacrifice to bring him forth. The one who raises him will stand at his side.”
“Whoop-dee-doo,” I muttered.
“A man who can return from the dead is a very powerful man indeed. There’ll be no stopping him.”
“If Roland could return, he would have. That he needs help—your help—means you have the power, not him.”
He blinked. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that.
“I still have to raise him,” Jeremy said. “He insists.”
“You should probably talk to someone about that voice in your head.”
Jeremy reached into his pocket, took out his keys, popped the trunk. Then he reached inside and withdrew a two-sided knife, the blade a distinctive S shape. I’d never seen it before, yet still I knew it.
The athame of Roland McHugh
“I wonder if I can brand you with this.” He frowned at the head of a snarling wolf carved into the handle. “It’ll have to do. You took my ring.”
He backhanded me with no more emotion than swatting a fly. My cheek seemed to explode. I bit my tongue and tasted blood.
I wished for Raye’s abilities. Levitation and telekinesis—either one would be handy right now. Toss the knife over the cliff—oh, what the hell, let’s just toss the knife and its holder too—or lift myself high enough to kick him in the face.
In the distance thunder stirred; the wind picked up, bringing with it the scent of rain. Strange. On the drive here there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky.
“Where’d you get that?” I had to keep stalling.
“She gave it to me.” He pointed into the trunk.
A dead woman lay within. Her brown hair was wrapped around her neck a few times, but the ends brushed her breasts. Between them a stain the shade of mahogany bloomed on her once white shirt. She was a big girl. She barely fit inside.
I’d only seen her once before, and under vastly different circumstances—she’d been alive—yet still I knew her.
“Mistress June.”
“Now I have the most witch kills,” Jeremy said, and slammed the trunk.
Chapter 26
Raye appeared in the doorway of the motel. She frowned at the rifle in Owen’s hand. “Where’s Becca?”
Owen’s gaze swept the cars in the lot, recognizing none of them. “I was hoping she was here.”
Worry cast over Raye’s face, and she beckoned him inside. Everyone who’d been there earlier remained.
“No one’s heard from her?” Owen asked.
“Not since she left with you,” Raye said.
“Her car’s gone, and there wasn’t any sign of a struggle.”
“You left her?”
Owen had no excuse. He just nodded.
Fury sparked in Raye’s eyes. Her fingers twitched. Owen took a step back, even though he hadn’t meant to. Bobby took Raye’s hand. “Won’t help.”
“I’ll feel better.” Her gaze remained on Owen.
“We need him. Conscious.”
She gave a sharp nod. Owen had the feeling he’d just avoided grave bodily injury, and he’d have deserved it.
The fed took the rifle from Owen and set it in the corner of the room. Probably a good idea, though Owen missed the weight of it.
He needed to focus. Becca was gone. Pru was here. Why? His gaze went to the wolf, which stared at Raye as if she were trying to communicate through osmosis.
“I’m not the dog whisperer,” Raye muttered.
“Not a dog,” Bobby pointed out.
“Henry!” Raye shouted.
Everyone waited.
“Anything?” Bobby asked, and she shook her head.
“I could do a spell to bring him here,” she began, and Pru snarled. “Calm down. I won’t.”
“Why not?” Owen demanded. “Wouldn’t he know where Becca was, if she were in trouble?”
“He might,” Raye said. “Henry’s attached to me because we share the ability to speak with ghosts. Pru’s attached to Becca because of their shared affinity with animals.”
“Then why is she here when Becca isn’t?”
“Pru’s not a supernatural wolf.”
“She isn’t a natural wolf either.”
Case in point. She was sitting in a motel room with five people and a dog.
“True,” Raye agreed. “But she can’t morph in and out.”
“Like Henry.”
“Right.”
“Get him to morph in,” Owen ordered.
“Henry comes when I call if he can. If he doesn’t that means he’s involved elsewhere. For all I know he might be saving Becca’s life. If I do a spell that drags him here then…” She spread her hands. “Bad things happen.”
“So we do nothing?”
The unnatural sensation of helplessness nagged at Owen. In Afghanistan he always knew what to do. He was the guy who did it. He saved lives. He had a plan. He was the man. Or at least Reggie was. Unfortunately, as talented as the dog was at finding people and things, he wasn’t going to be able to find a Bronco the way he found an insurgent.
Pru got to her feet, her gaze on an empty corner. Reggie growled in that direction.