Heat of the Moment (23 page)

“Which one? You seem to have a crime spree right now.”

“We thought so, but you just proved it's all one case.”

“Didn't mean to.”

“Well, not you personally. But the ring. The brands.” George lifted his hand and tapped the air. “Bing. Bang.” Then pointed at the car. “Boom.”

Owen tried to follow. Gave up. “Huh?”

“I read the file. I was at the house when Becca and the out-of-town doc found the brands on the animals. Now this lady has one too.”

Owen saw a trickle of light in the pitch-black darkness. “Whoever killed the pets killed Peggy?”

Owen vaguely remembered Reitman saying the pets were practice for humans. But that didn't explain …

“Why Becca? Nothing connects her case to either of the others.”

“The ring does.” At Owen's blank expression, George frowned. “Becca's attacker dropped a ring just like the one that branded Peggy.”

This was the first Owen had heard of it. But things had been a little busy.

“There were brands on the animals too, but Reitman couldn't see what they were.”

“Doubtful there's a crazy or two running around killing, burning, and branding with different brands,” George said. “But you never can tell.”

Chief Deb's cruiser skidded to a stop about six inches from the rear bumper of Owen's rental. At least Reggie had stopped barking at the flaming car, even though the car was still flaming.

She crossed the road. “What happened here?”

George pointed at Owen and walked away. Someone had to help Billy with traffic control. Where there had been no cars on the highway before, there were dozens now. The tower of smoke seemed to have drawn them like flies.

Owen repeated what he'd told George, including George's conclusions about the connections in the crime spree. Deb didn't look any happier about it than Owen was.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Huh?” Deb stared at the car, chewing the inside of her lip.

“The ring.”

“Locked in the evidence room waiting for the FBI to come and get it.”

“Why would the FBI want it?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Ross called VICAP—Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. I thought it was too soon with one attempted murder, but…” She shrugged. “He got antsy. He mentioned the ring and the FBI said they'd send an agent.”

“Sounds like it wasn't too soon,” Owen said. For the FBI to dispatch someone, they'd seen this or something similar before. “When's the agent supposed to arrive?”

“Anytime. Conveniently, they had one nearby.”

“
Convenient
isn't the word I'd use.”

“Coincidence?”

“How about conspiracy?”

“Conspiracy suggests more than one person.”

“Exactly.”

It was Deb's turn to appear confused.

“If Becca's attacker dropped a ring, which you have locked up, that makes the ring that branded Peggy another ring entirely.”

“Doesn't mean another person attacked Peggy,” Deb pointed out. “Might be one person with a boxful of rings.”

“You believe that?”

“I'd like to,” she said. “Otherwise we've got at least two people running around killing folks and then branding them.”

“Considering the FBI is in the neighborhood, and they're interested in the ring,” Owen said, “I think there's more than two.”

*   *   *

“Is that why I can hear you?” I asked. “Because you're a witch?”

You hear more voices than mine.

“What does that mean?”

What do you think it means?

I used to think it meant I was nuts. I'd settled on it meaning I had an overactive imagination. But I didn't think either of those choices was what Pru was getting at.

“Are you saying I'm a witch? Because I'm not.”

How can you be so certain?

I didn't know much—anything—about witches, but Jeremy did. And he'd said—

“Witchcraft is a birthright.”

True magic, the kind you have,
is
passed through the blood. Blood magic is the most powerful kind.

“No one in my family is a witch.”

“That's because your family isn't your family.”

The voice was real. Not in my head. Not Pru's.

I leaped to my feet, spun, blinked, then blinked again at the woman standing in the entryway to the exam room.

Jeremy had been right. Except for the color of her hair and eyes, she did look exactly like me.

“Hi, Pru.” She nodded to the empty corner. “Henry.”

“Y-y-you see him?”

“Always have.”

“You hear her?”

She shook her head. “That's your gift, not mine.”

“Who are you?”

“Raye Larsen. Kindergarten teacher from New Bergin and—” She glanced at the corner, shrugged, turned back. “Your sister.”

“My sister's name is Melanie.”

“She's not really your sister.” Raye waved between the two of us. “You can see that now, right?”

“Everyone has a twin,” I said desperately.

I felt like the earth had shifted beneath my feet. I was dizzy and hot, yet I shivered. Everything was changing. My fingers clenched and unclenched. I wanted to hold on to something but I was afraid that no matter what I grasped it would crumble to dust just like my world.

“We aren't twins.”

At last she spoke sense.

“We're triplets. Just haven't located sis number three yet.”

“How—how—”

“I was found on the side of Interstate Ninety-four, halfway between Madison and Eau Claire. Naked, without even a blanket. At least it was July, otherwise I'd have been dead.”

I'd been born in July. Didn't mean anything.

“I saw ghosts. Still do. From the moment I could talk, I spoke to them. Freaked my parents out.” I must have made a movement because she lifted an eyebrow. “You too?”

“No.” I hadn't seen ghosts. I'd heard animals. But it had freaked my parents out.

“How—” I began again.

“How'd I find you? Magic.”

“I was going to ask how you got in here.” I'd locked the door.

“Same thing.” She wiggled her fingers, and the surgical instruments I'd cleaned and set out to dry lifted into the air and hung there, then settled back where they'd been.

I sat down. I had to.

“You're crazy.” Or I was.

“I thought the same.” Raye tilted her head as if listening. “Okay.” She crossed to the wolf.

“You probably shouldn't—”

“You have magic too, Becca, and I can prove it to you.” She knelt next to Pru and beckoned. “Touch her wound.”

“It's an open wound. Nothing and no one should touch it. Including her.”

“Afraid I'm right?”

“About what?”

“Your touch can heal.”

I had a sudden flash of what I'd thought I'd seen during the surgery—Pru's wound seeming to mend faster than it possibly could have.

But that hadn't been real. Had it?

“Why do you think your patients get better faster than any others?” Raye asked. “That you've never lost one yet?”

My gaze narrowed. “How long have you been in town?”

“Long enough to hear a reputation that's nothing short of mythic.”

“I'm good at what I do.”

“You're that good for a reason.”

“I am not magic.”

“Prove it.” Raye yanked the gauze off Pru's flank. The wolf didn't even snarl. Magic right there. “Touch her wound.”

“If I do and nothing happens, then what?”

“When you do and something happens, I'll tell you.”

“Right.” I laid my palm over the raw, angry-looking injury. A spark jumped, heat pulsed. Had the infection spread?

Beneath my hand her flesh moved, and not because she had. The creepy-crawly feeling reminded me of worms or snakes, and I yanked back, expecting to see just that. Instead, the redness was gone. The raw edges had sealed together.

“You should probably take out those stitches,” Raye said.

“I just put them in.” Nevertheless, I went to the sink, washed my hands, and retrieved the instruments I needed.

The air around me seemed to whoosh with a sound like wind or rushing water. My hands shook a bit. My legs felt wobbly. My head spun, my thoughts too.

Was I dreaming? Maybe.

A suture needle floated up, hanging in the air right in front of me. “Stop that!”

“What?” Raye turned, frowned. “Henry!”

The needle dropped to the counter and lay still. I snatched it and poked my arm. I didn't wake up, but I did bleed. I set my thumb atop the tiny wound and when I wiped off the drop of blood, it didn't well again.

I gloved up, then returned to Pru's side. Nothing had changed since I left it. I snipped the first stitch and waited for blood to well there as well. None did.

Pru shifted, huffed.
Finish.

Snip. Clip. Snip. Only a fine, pink line remained. Curious, I set my hand on top of it—spark, heat, movement. When I lifted it again, the line had faded from pink to white.

“I—I've never done that before.” My head spun faster.

Yes, I was good at my job, but I didn't heal animals on contact. “If it's real and true, how could I not have noticed?”

Raye lifted one finger and listened to the corner. “Henry says that there's power in three. Always has been.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? There's a reason for the Trinity—Father, Son, Holy Ghost.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“I'm just giving an example of a famous power of three.”

“Even if I did believe you were my sister—” She rolled her eyes. I couldn't blame her. The visual evidence was pretty damning. “One and one does not make three.”

“We're more powerful together than apart.” Raye stood, closed her eyes, set her hands to the side, and slowly her feet lifted from the ground. Pru yipped. I wanted to.

When Raye's head brushed the ceiling, her eyes opened and met mine. “Couldn't do that yesterday.”

She turned her hands palms down, then floated back to the floor. “Once we find our third we'll be able to stop them.”

“Stop who? From doing what?”

“Stop the
Venatores Mali
from raising their leader.”

“Wait.” I glanced at Pru. “She told me to beware the
Venatores Mali
.”

“Hunters of evil.”

“But…” I was so confused. “The werewolf hunters are Jäger-Suchers.”

“Two different evils,” Raye said. “Evil werewolves and other assorted creepy-crawlies are hunted by Edward and clan. The
Venatores Mali
hunt witches
.”

Several puzzle pieces came together in my head with a click so loud I started. “Let me guess, they wear rings with a snarling wolf on the face.”

“You met one of them already?”

“Henry tossed him or her into a wall.”

“I love it when that happens.”

I had too. “Why did this person come after me?”

Raye pointed at Pru's now nonexistent wound. “People have noticed your talent.”

“Just because I'm good at my job doesn't make me a witch. Especially around here.”

Had I accepted that I was? Not completely. But I couldn't deny something weird was going on. Always had been.

“We don't know how they know what they do. I've always been seen as strange, but to leap from weird kid to witch is a stretch. Someone did, because they came to New Bergin first.”

I glanced at Pru, but she'd fallen asleep. “Is that why she was there?”

“Yes. I've seen her and Henry all my life. For a long time I thought she was a ghost too.”

So had I. “No one else ever saw her but me. Until Owen.”

Raye's eyebrows rose. “Boyfriend?”

I lifted one shoulder.

“Interesting. No one saw her in New Bergin until Bobby.”

“Boyfriend?”

She lifted her shoulder. “Fianc
é
. He was a New Orleans homicide detective.”

“How'd you meet a New Orleans cop?”

“He came to New Bergin following what he thought was a serial killer.”

“It wasn't?”

“Technically it was. Mistress June killed at least a dozen witches.”

My eyes widened. “A dozen?”

The world was a great big mess. But when hadn't it been?

“Who is this woman?”

“All we have is her first name. No one seems to ever have heard her last. Her fingerprints weren't in the system, neither was her DNA.”

“How could she kill all those people and yet no one knows anything about her?”

“She's very good at being bad. She didn't kill in the same way or in the same place. Made it look random, which is really hard to connect. But now that they know what to look for…”

“What?”

“Brands. Burning. Witches.”

“Who's looking?”

“FBI.”

“The FBI is looking for witch killers,” I repeated.

“Yes. Well, no. The FBI, per se, is looking for a serial killer. But the agent on this case, Nic Franklin, is also a J
ä
ger-Sucher.”

“You just said the J
ä
ger-Suchers hunt werewolves.”

“And assorted evil creepy-crawlies,” she repeated. “The
Venatores Mali
are very creepy-crawly. And evil. They have been from the get-go, which was about four hundred years ago.”

“Four hundred years?” My gaze went to Pru again. Still asleep.

“She told you?”

“That she was four hundred years old? Yeah.” I found it a lot less crazy now than I had when she'd brought it up.

“What else did she say?”

“That she was a witch, and so is Henry. Are they related?”