who’s making up stories about kidnapping plots.”
Mercutio yowled and bounded to the front door, waiting for me to open it.
“What, Merc? Is somebody else out there?” Had their accomplices Sue and Mindy come along? If so, I’d better tie them up or run them off. I didn’t want them sneaking in and conking me over the head.
I hurried to the front door, rubbing my eyes. Why did they have to break in during the middle of the night? I padded outside, instantly anxious when I heard the crunch of leaves. I dropped to a crouch and waited.
The noise had come from behind a row of hedges. My breath came and went in shallow sips. I crept along, trying to find an opening in the hedge that I could look through. Then I heard another crunch and looked up just in time to see Scarface behind the row of bushes. His right arm started to rise.
No!
I drew my gun and whipped it up even faster than he got his pointed at me.
“Don’t move,” I snapped, but he did. He turned and bolted.
I stood and chased his footfalls, not able to see him clearly enough to be sure that if I shot him that I’d only wound him. A car’s interior light clicked on when he opened the door, and I ran faster, but couldn’t reach him before he peeled away.
“Coward!” I shouted in frustration. I walked back to Zach’s, nearly jumping out of my skin when Merc padded up.
“Lost him,” I said. “That was Scarface, who kidnapped me today. Looks like he’s not giving up.”
I marched into the house to confront the Reitgartens about whether they were connected to Scarface, but the kitchen was empty and the cupboard door was missing. They’d yanked it off the hinges. Darn them!
Plus, when they’d escaped, they’d left the back door wide open for any Tom, Earl, or Scarface to waltz right in. I smacked my hand down on the counter top in annoyance, then walked over and slammed the door shut and locked it.
“Well, Merc, we can’t stay here. First off, I don’t want Zach’s stuff getting messed with or his house getting damaged like mine was,” I said, stalking into the bedroom. “And secondly, if people are after us, what better place to stay than someplace with a big gate and twenty-four-hour security?” I asked, retrieving the package with the brooch from under the bed and then taking my pink-and-black-checked roller suitcase out of the closet.
Merc purred, obviously agreeing with my plan to stay in the one place that, for so many reasons, I wasn’t supposed to stay.
Chapter 8
I didn’t want to wake up everyone at Bryn’s house before dawn on a Saturday, so I decided to run an errand to my house first. The front was still boarded up while the reconstruction was going on, so I used a key to let myself through the gate that led to the yard, then went through the sliding door. The house was unswept and smelled like sawdust, but I could see the progress. The Sheetrock in the front room had been completely replaced.
I went upstairs to a locked trunk and took out my antique spellbook. Merc sat next to me on the rug while I read about the various things that could be used to stir up visions: looking glasses, tea leaves, horse apple seeds, flames, and smoke. I ran a hand through my hair and wondered which divination spells our family’s witches had used most successfully. When Momma and Aunt Mel left, they’d taken the family spellbooks with them.
The thought of getting my hands on those books excited me. I hadn’t been free to read them when I was very young. Later, it’d made me too sad to read about magic when I’d thought I would never have any. When Aunt Mel came back with the books, it would be my first chance to study them as a witch. Assuming I could get my powers under control.
Bryn and I had discovered the reason why my powers had been dormant was that my fae magic worked against my witch magic and vice versa. But my magical synergy with Bryn caused a disruption in the way the two magics neutralized each other. Now all we
Mercutio yowled and bounded to the front door, waiting for me to open it.
“What, Merc? Is somebody else out there?” Had their accomplices Sue and Mindy come along? If so, I’d better tie them up or run them off. I didn’t want them sneaking in and conking me over the head.
I hurried to the front door, rubbing my eyes. Why did they have to break in during the middle of the night? I padded outside, instantly anxious when I heard the crunch of leaves. I dropped to a crouch and waited.
The noise had come from behind a row of hedges. My breath came and went in shallow sips. I crept along, trying to find an opening in the hedge that I could look through. Then I heard another crunch and looked up just in time to see Scarface behind the row of bushes. His right arm started to rise.
No!
I drew my gun and whipped it up even faster than he got his pointed at me.
“Don’t move,” I snapped, but he did. He turned and bolted.
I stood and chased his footfalls, not able to see him clearly enough to be sure that if I shot him that I’d only wound him. A car’s interior light clicked on when he opened the door, and I ran faster, but couldn’t reach him before he peeled away.
“Coward!” I shouted in frustration. I walked back to Zach’s, nearly jumping out of my skin when Merc padded up.
“Lost him,” I said. “That was Scarface, who kidnapped me today. Looks like he’s not giving up.”
I marched into the house to confront the Reitgartens about whether they were connected to Scarface, but the kitchen was empty and the cupboard door was missing. They’d yanked it off the hinges. Darn them!
Plus, when they’d escaped, they’d left the back door wide open for any Tom, Earl, or Scarface to waltz right in. I smacked my hand down on the counter top in annoyance, then walked over and slammed the door shut and locked it.
“Well, Merc, we can’t stay here. First off, I don’t want Zach’s stuff getting messed with or his house getting damaged like mine was,” I said, stalking into the bedroom. “And secondly, if people are after us, what better place to stay than someplace with a big gate and twenty-four-hour security?” I asked, retrieving the package with the brooch from under the bed and then taking my pink-and-black-checked roller suitcase out of the closet.
Merc purred, obviously agreeing with my plan to stay in the one place that, for so many reasons, I wasn’t supposed to stay.
Chapter 8
I didn’t want to wake up everyone at Bryn’s house before dawn on a Saturday, so I decided to run an errand to my house first. The front was still boarded up while the reconstruction was going on, so I used a key to let myself through the gate that led to the yard, then went through the sliding door. The house was unswept and smelled like sawdust, but I could see the progress. The Sheetrock in the front room had been completely replaced.
I went upstairs to a locked trunk and took out my antique spellbook. Merc sat next to me on the rug while I read about the various things that could be used to stir up visions: looking glasses, tea leaves, horse apple seeds, flames, and smoke. I ran a hand through my hair and wondered which divination spells our family’s witches had used most successfully. When Momma and Aunt Mel left, they’d taken the family spellbooks with them.
The thought of getting my hands on those books excited me. I hadn’t been free to read them when I was very young. Later, it’d made me too sad to read about magic when I’d thought I would never have any. When Aunt Mel came back with the books, it would be my first chance to study them as a witch. Assuming I could get my powers under control.
Bryn and I had discovered the reason why my powers had been dormant was that my fae magic worked against my witch magic and vice versa. But my magical synergy with Bryn caused a disruption in the way the two magics neutralized each other. Now all we
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