Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) (13 page)

“See—that’s the interesting part. He has no idea.” David let out a small, harsh laugh. “I was there years ago when he tried to get drunk. He ended up puking punch-flavored Everclear on his mom’s favorite couch.”

John couldn’t repress a sympathetic twinge. He remembered his first and last experience with Everclear. He must have been thirteen. All he could remember was that it seemed like a good idea at the time. “That must have been a lot of puke.”

“Yeah. I don’t really see this guy going out and getting hammered. I mean, he couldn’t even remember deciding to drink: why tequila, why so much. Hell, he couldn’t remember why he even went to that bar.”

“Do you suspect interference from this witch guy?”

“I’d say so. The whole situation reeks. And even odder, my buddy didn’t think twice about any of it until I started asking him questions. He’s completely freaked about the whole thing now.”

Lizzie was thinking hard enough that John could almost hear it.

John held up one finger to Lizzie, then spoke into his cell, “David, can you hang on just a second?” John muted the phone, then said, “What’s up?”

“Flipping
witches
? Really?” Lizzie practically shouted.

He could hear her pulse racing.

“And, by the way, this doesn’t sound like Worth. He’s hired Lycan and spell casters—but I think we’d have known about anyone else, wouldn’t we? I don’t even know what the heck witches
are
.” She frowned, a look of confusion passing over her face. “Well, not really.”

“I get it—trust me. Do you have anything you want to ask David while I’ve got him on the phone?”

“Have him explain about the freaking witches, I guess.” She took a deep breath. “Sorry. It’s just a little overwhelming. I mean, witches.” She shook her head, then said, “Go ahead. I’m good.”

He tapped the “mute” button again.

“Since you don’t have confirmation of his name, I’m guessing you haven’t found this Larsen guy?” John asked.

“No. Either he’s not local, or my friend didn’t get his name right.”

He gave Lizzie an encouraging nod.

She cleared her throat. “So—about Larsen being a witch. Maybe this is obvious, but how did you guys know he was a witch? I mean, had your buddy ever met a witch before?”

“Yeah. That’s been big news up here lately. There’s been an unspoken understanding for quite some time that another magic-using group lives in the area. But about a month ago, my dad reached out and started to cultivate a relationship with them. Turns out, we’ve had a group of witches living in the area for at least the last few hundred years.” David’s statement was wry, self-deprecating.

John knew how he felt. The packs’ natural inclination to segregate themselves created a barrier to knowledge that was dangerous. He’d been pushing the Texas Pack to see that for several years, but even he had been caught by surprise at what was beyond the Pack’s usual walk of life.

After Lizzie’s failed kidnapping and Grant Clark’s unintentional involvement with Worth, it appeared Clark had taken a look around and decided he needed to know more about the magic-using community. That might bode well for David’s admission to the Texas Pack.

Lizzie started fidgeting. John hid a smirk, waiting for the question he knew was coming.

“So David…” Lizzie tipped her head to the side. “Um, why
exactly
did you decide to challenge John in the first place?” Her face turned red. “Sorry, I understand about why you’d like to leave Idaho. But why Texas? And why now?”

“Rumors mostly. John was distracted, the Texas Pack was looking for a change, Texas was becoming weak.” David let out a harsh breath. “I have no idea where that shit is coming from, though. Clearly that crap isn’t based on fact.”

“We have a few ideas about that.” John didn’t want to get into the details of what exactly he and the Texas Pack knew—or didn’t know. He steered the conversation back to the real mystery. “Before we let you go, David—what can you tell me about witches?”

“They seem organized—more so even than the packs. Their powers are elemental, although no one has explained what that means. Earth, wind, air, fire, but I’ve no idea what each can do. They haven’t been exactly forthcoming with Dad.” David snorted. “But that’s hardly unexpected considering what little we’ve shared. Yeah, that’s all I know. Oh—they seem to have something against spell casters. They wanted to know if we have a Record Keeper and even implied they’d walk away if we did. Obviously no problem for us, since the one we tried to kidnap made her way home.”

“Cute,” Lizzie muttered.

In a grim tone, John said, “My mate, you mean?” The warning made, he moved to finish up the call. “Have you spoken to your father?” He was curious to know what Grant’s gut response had been to the proposition.

“Briefly. I’ll get back to you later this week.”

Interesting.
John ended the call, and turned to Lizzie. “Well?” She’d been about to bust since witches came up.

“I just can’t get over it—witches?” She let out a pent-up breath, “I did remember something, though. I told you about the witch book in the library, right?

“Yeah—I remember.”

“I’m not sure how I could forget about that. It was creepy, the connection it had to me.” He could see a tiny shiver run up her back. “But now an entire witch
community
? Add in that they have a thing for my people and that they have
fire
powers, and I get a seriously sketchy vibe.”

“Your people? Spell casters, you mean?” He couldn’t keep some of the amusement out of his voice, but he wiped away any trace of a smile when he saw her glaring at him. “Everything will be fine. It sounds like witches have been around for ages, and nothing’s changed except our knowledge of them.”

She just shook her head. “I thought fire was a dragon thing. Fire is scary.” She gave him a significant look. “Right? You can’t argue that fire isn’t scary.”

“Fire
is
scary,” he agreed. “Tell me again what you remember about the witch book.”

“The one book in the entire IPPC library that, weirdly, likes me. You remember—I told you it felt like it was staring a hole in my back every time I’d work in the library? I remember now, it was called
A Witch’s Diary
. Pilar and Harrington thought it was odd, too. Not weird enough for either of them to think it’s dangerous—but strange.” She paused thoughtfully. “It was the first spelled book that I read. If figuring out the title of the thing counts as reading. Actually, it was also the first magic I did on my own.”

“I’d think you’d be more nostalgic.”

“Yeah. It’s hard not to have some fondness for a book that seems to like me. But it’s still creepy. And now, witches are turning up in our lives.”

“Just one witch,” John reminded her. “Damn. You remember Harry’s pilot? The one that flew you and Harry to Freiburg and all of us back.”

Lizzie pushed the heels of her hands into her closed eyes. “The pilot. The one who had
a way with the wind
.” She groaned.

“And storms.” He probably wasn’t helping.

She groaned louder. “Can we not just have a wiki page? It would be so much easier.”

“A wiki page would make it difficult to maintain that little thing we call secrecy.”

“Oh, yeah.” She sat and pushed her curly hair away from her face, pulling it back into a ponytail. “I agree that Harry’s friend could be one, and if so, that means Harry might have some information. Do you want me to call him and see what he knows?”

“Good idea. But
after
the Council meeting.”

“Crapola. Are you sure I can’t skip it? Never mind. That sounded whiney, even to me. I’ll man up. Besides, I’m sure I’ll feel much better after a shower.” She’d finished her egg earlier and now she moved to pick up her plate. “How many people are on the Council again?”

“Nine total, but that includes me and Logan.”

She nodded, then took a fortifying breath. “I can be ready in an hour.”

“You’ve got two—no rush.”

Chapter 16

A
s Lizzie was just about to hop into the shower, her cell rang. When she saw it was Pilar, she quickly wrapped a towel around herself and answered the phone.

“Where have you been? Are you all right?”

Pilar laughed. “I’m fine. My husband took me on a short vacation.”

“Without your cell phone?” Lizzie knew the disbelief was evident in her voice, but the question was out before she had barely thought it.

“That’s right.” Lizzie could hear the smile in Pilar’s voice.

“Ohh.
That
kind of vacation. Wow—how long have you two been married?”

“Twelve years.”

Never speedy at math, the silence must have stretched long enough for Pilar to realize Lizzie was counting birthdays.

Pilar interrupted her mental gymnastics. “Felix is my second husband. The children are from my first marriage.”

“Ah. Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I know that your son is Harry’s age, and your daughter is in her late teens, so—”

Pilar chuckled. “I understand. You forget that I know how curious you are.” She quieted and when she continued, her voice had a darker tinge. Lizzie couldn’t place the emotion, though. “My first husband died when I was very young.”

“Well, Felix is a rock star, but I’m not sure how John is going to feel when I tell him about your little post-kidnap getaway.”

“Maybe a little pressured?”

“Maybe a little.” Lizzie sighed. “Gosh, a vacation would be nice. Sometime soon—just as soon as we get things sorted out here.”

That was a promise to herself. She felt like the moment she overcame one obstacle, something else creepy or dangerous or magically intriguing popped up. And her life had been so slow just a month or two ago.

Pilar broke the silence, getting straight to the point. “So what’s up now? I thought you were planning to stay home for a while, keep a low profile, get to know the locals.”

Lizzie massaged her neck with her free hand. How much to tell Pilar? It was complicated because Pilar wasn’t Pack. “Without going into the details—because I haven’t exactly read the confidentiality agreement on this relationship—I’m having some book trouble.” Lizzie cocked her head, thinking about the context of the problem. “That may or may not be related to Pack history or some super-secret pack information.”

“Got it. No problem—just tell me what you can.”

Lizzie considered the best place to start. “Do you remember what your first experience with the Vampyr book was like?”

“Hmm. Which one? There were three of them.”

“That’s right—I only ever read the one.”

Before Lizzie could elaborate, Pilar jumped in. “The attack on the family. I definitely remember my first interaction with that one. Most books speak in words. It was a unique book, with the story recorded in sequential pictures. It was almost like a movie.”

“Yes,” Lizzie exclaimed. “That one! When I first read it, the story consumed me. So much so that Matylda had to scratch me to pull me out of it. So—I recently had the same thing happen with our pack book,” Lizzie said. “John pinched my ear pretty good to pull me back.”

“Poor John,” she said. “How long were you stuck inside the story?”

“With the Vampyr book, several minutes at least. Long enough for an inch of a candle to burn—however long that is. With the pack book, a few minutes. You can imagine how worried John was when he found me like that. He told me later that it looked like a trance—eyes open but not seeing.” Lizzie almost forgot an important piece of information. “Also, with the pack book, it wasn’t a story. It wasn’t linear like the Vampyr book. Just a jumble of thoughts and feelings.”

Pilar made a sympathetic sound. “That sounds unsettling.”

“I felt bombarded. It was overwhelming.”

“Well,” Pilar said skeptically, “you could just wait it out. See when you pop out of it. As long as someone’s there—just in case you don’t come out on your own—I don’t see the harm.”

“So I take it this hasn’t happened to you?”

“No. And as a point of reference, neither Heike nor I had such an intense experience with the Vampyr book as you. Certainly it was engrossing, but I was always aware of my surroundings.”

Lizzie wasn’t sure how she felt about that news. “So it’s me. I’m broken, not the books?”

Pilar protested, “Don’t be silly. My point is that I’ve never had a comparable experience. I’m just not sure I have any good advice except to be careful. Handle new books, new situations in general, cautiously. Limiting the amount of magic you use is always a good place to start.”

“Hey, now. I learned that lesson when Harrington had me practice sensing wards. Promise.” She couldn’t help a small giggle. “That was too embarrassing to forget.”

“Right, then don’t forget,” Pilar admonished her.

“I won’t,” Lizzie assured her. “The second try I had with the book went much better. I narrowed the focus of the question. And—yes, I did give the question even less of a push of magic. That seemed to do it. Instead of being overwhelmed, I could pick out specific feelings. Still no words, though. That’s a little weird, right?”

“Well, the Vampyr book was recorded by a young woman—actually, a girl. It’s possible the recording was in images rather than words because of her age or lack of training. If she had no training, then that may have been the only way she knew to record. Or if she was young, she may have just come into her magic. That can impact control and ability.”

“That’s it,” Lizzie exclaimed excitedly. “That has to be it. I bet you anything this spell caster was around seventeen when she recorded this. That fits with the little I know about her. Wait a second. Isn’t seventeen late for a spell caster to gain her powers?”

“Every child is different, but yes—seventeen would be older than I’d expect.”

“Hey, wait a minute. Speaking of training, who knew there’s training for this stuff,” Lizzie joked.

“Don’t be a smartass. You have a mentor. Two, actually.”

“Harrington hardly counts. But you’re right.” Lizzie grinned broadly. In her sweetest voice, she said, “Thank you, Pilar.”

“Um-hm. I need to run. Felix is unpacking all by himself. We’ll talk soon.”

Lizzie always had a happy warm glow after she spoke with Pilar. She wasn’t sure how old Pilar was—no more than five to seven years older than her, she was sure—but regardless of her age, she always made Lizzie feel mothered. In a good, not smothered, way. Her own mother was an angel—a very interested, concerned, busybody angel. She winced. And she always felt guilty when she didn’t appreciate her own mom.