The Witch's Key by Dana Donovan

the short time that I had lived with Lilith,
I had come to learn that almost everything she says and does has an
underlining message or meaning. In the sport of relationship
decoding, it did not take a stretch of imagination to decipher the
meaning of that move.
    I reached out and snatched the envelope from
Spinelli, caring little about the look of violation on his face.
“Whatcha got there, Dom?”
    He pointed. “They’re photos of victims from the case
we’re working.”
    I looked at him in disgust. “What, like coroner’s
pics?”
    He grimaced. “No! Come on, that would be gross.
Besides, you wouldn’t recognize most of them anyway. There wasn’t
much left of some, but shredded dog meat.”
    “Lunch, anyone?”
    “Lilith!”
    “The photos of at least four of the guys are from mug
shots,” Spinelli said. “The rest are blow-ups of driver’s
licenses.”
    I spilled the photos out onto the counter top and
reviewed them. “So, what’s your take? Do these guys have anything
in common?”
    “You mean, except age, race, sex and the fact they’re
all transients?”
    “Yes.”
    “Nope.”
    “Nothing?”
    “We’re at a loss.”
    “What’s Carlos think?”
    “He doesn’t know.”
    “So, why didn’t he come with you?”
    “He had a thing to do.”
    “A thing.” I peered over Spinelli’s shoulder and
called out to the living room. “Did you hear that, Lilith. I told
you. He’s still angry with me.”
    “No, he’s not,” she said.
    “He is. You saw how he worked me at the café. He
looked me right in the eye and he did something. He reached down in
me and he stole something, like a piece of me. I don’t know. I
can’t explain it.”
    I thought Lilith might rag me about being paranoid or
something. She knows I have a tendency to do that in the face of
witchcraft, especially when it concerns a body’s freewill. I guess
that’s why I resented her using the whisper box on me. But it’s
something I feel strongly about, and that I felt like Carlos had
somehow employed his own newfound version of witchcraft on me,
didn’t help matters any. I cranked in with more complaints about
Carlos, when I saw Lilith rise and start in my direction. Again,
and as always, that weird tingle in my stomach began to churn as
she neared me. It’s almost as if two magnets with oscillating
polarities were drawing together. I can feel her energy and mine
pulling and pushing simultaneously. It is actually pretty cool. It
fills me with both dread and anticipation, and the best thing of
all is I believe she feels it, too.
    Spinelli, in his perceptive wisdom, stood back a bit,
giving berth for Lilith’s approach. It is not that she needed it,
but to err on the side of caution is a sign of good police
instincts. Lilith toed up to me almost as close as we were before
Spinelli interrupted us. Her eyes narrowed, searching mine, as they
had never done before. I knew she was not looking for me to kiss
her, sadly, I know that look all too well now. But she was looking
for something. I had almost pushed her away, fed up with her voodoo
manipulation, when she smiled and slapped me hard on the chest.
    “Yup! I knew it. You son-of-a-bitch,” she said. “Look
at you. You got it! Don’t you?” Her smile grew wider now and
definitely contagious.
    “What?” I said. “I don’t have anything.”
    “Yes you do. You got it. I’ll be a monkey’s ass. What
do you think of that, Spinelli?”
    Spinelli shrugged. “Think of what?”
    Again, Lilith hit me on the chest. This time closed
fist. “You’re a witch! You little stinker! I see it in there. It’s
in your eyes. You can’t hide it.”
    “I ain’t try`na hide it,” I said. “I didn’t even know
I had it.”
    “Oh, you knew. You had to know. You had to feel it.
Don’t tell me you didn’t.”
    “Feel what?”
    “It!”
    “You mean, like a tingle?”
    “Yes. It could feel like a tingle.”
    “I thought that was…”
    Her smile locked in anticipation. “What?”
    I