But Liam spoiled her fun by saying, “Damn it, someone is going to get hurt. I’ve got to figure out some way to calm these people down.” He cast a slightly desperate look at Clive Matthews, whose eyes were narrowed as he searched for someone to hold responsible for the chaos, and said through clenched teeth, “The county board has been looking for an excuse to replace me. This ought to just about do it.”
Baba sighed and looked around in resignation for a solution that didn’t involve cracking heads together while cackling gleefully. The sight of a sprinkler system set into the dingy ceiling gave her an idea, and she wiggled two fingers behind her back. Water sprayed down over the crowd, instantly soaking everyone in the room. People squealed and ran for the exits, most of them looking equal parts baffled and annoyed as they returned to their senses.
She nodded at Belinda where she stood next to the control panel, elderly parents nowhere in sight. Liam gusted out a sigh of relief, spotting his deputy at the same time.
“That was quick thinking. Cooled everyone down anyway. Although no doubt the board will have something to say about the mess and the expensive water damage.” His face looked grim under its wet coating.
Also, running water short-circuits magic, Baba thought. She said out loud instead, “Oh, I think you’ll find that the sprinklers went off by themselves. Some kind of malfunction, no doubt. From the look of the rust on that panel, it hasn’t been opened in years.” She gave Liam a bracing thump on the shoulder. “And I’m sure there won’t be any lasting damage.” Another finger flick turned the water back off. The woman called Maya had disappeared, making her exit with the rest of the crowd. Too bad—Baba had a sudden urge to have a chat with the mysterious blonde.
“Huh.” Liam looked up at the sprinklers and over toward Belinda, who was being berated by a decidedly damp Clive Matthews, his thinning hair dripping messily down over the blood vessel pulsing in his forehead. “I guess I’d better go rescue my deputy before she’s forced to shoot the president of the board in self-defense.”
“In that case, wouldn’t you be rescuing him?” Baba said with a hint of a smile. Then, more seriously, “I need to talk to you.” And not just because you look incredibly hot, standing there with your soaking-wet shirt clinging to those broad shoulders and muscular chest.
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “About who might have done this? Or about the missing children?” All his attention was suddenly focused in her direction, a constricted beam of penetrating light.
“Maybe neither. Maybe both.” Baba wiped water off her face and wrung out her mass of dark hair. “I have a possibility, but no proof.” And no idea what the hell a human sheriff could do against a supernatural-wielding opponent. But he still had the right to know. As he’d said when they met, these people were his responsibility. Besides, she’d promised Belinda that she’d help—and a Baba’s promise was both rare and unbending. Much like the Babas themselves.
“I see.” He didn’t look convinced. “Well, I have to deal with this, and we both need to change into dry clothes.” He looked admiringly at Baba’s own dripping form, trying to hide a smile. “How about you give me an hour and meet me at The Roadhouse? It’s a bar on the way out of town. You would have passed it on your way in from where the Airstream is parked.”
She nodded. “It’s a date,” she said. There was no need for her to return to the trailer for new clothes, of course; she could dry herself with a thought. But she had something else she wanted to set into motion before she and the sheriff had their little talk.
There was something going on here she didn’t understand, but she trusted her instincts after all these years, and her gut was telling her that the three missing children and Maya’s magical riot act were connected somehow . . . and that things were going to get worse before they got better.
It was time to call in some assistance—and she had just the men for the job.
FIVE
THE ALLEY WHERE Baba had left the BMW was dark and smelled like things best not looked at closely, but it was also deserted and likely to stay that way, which suited her purposes just fine. She could ignore the smell; this wouldn’t take long.
She brushed away a drop of water that rolled down her neck and tried to pull her clammy tee shirt off over her head. The damp cloth clung to her curves, thwarting her, and she finally just growled and snapped her fingers. The shirt vanished with a faint “pop,” leaving her clad in dry leather pants, a black lace bra, and three elaborate tattoos.
A white dragon with green eyes coiled around her right bicep, a red dragon with slanted golden eyes curled around her left bicep, and a black dragon with long whiskers lay across her upper back and shoulders. She stroked them like the old friends they were, and recited a summoning chant in Russian that brought back memories of the old Baba standing in front of a smoky fireplace, stirring something that smelled worse than this alley. The memory made her smile, and helped her ignore the tiny shuddering sting each tattoo let off as it shivered and squirmed, eyes glowing momentarily in the dark night.