Under Witch Curse (Moon Shadow Series) (12 page)

I pulled back and surveyed the large missing chunk of plaster. My beads hadn’t done that, but from the stray wood piece hanging from the side, it looked as though a broken chair had made solid contact. “Thanks to Dad, I know a guy who can help fix this up better than it was before the coyote.”

“Really? It’s awfully damaged.”

“White Feather is waiting for me.” I didn’t tell her that he had picked up on the fact that I was in trouble. We didn’t really understand what that magic was all about. “You okay here?”

She nodded. “Except for the mess that is my life and house, sure.” She tried to smile. “You’re better at this stuff than I am.”

“Just think of it as another spell gone wrong,” I advised.

“Yeah, but how do I know if there’s anything worth salvaging?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. On my way out, I noticed the pile of clothes that had been against the building was gone. Zandy had come in broad daylight, shifted, and was ready to ambush my friend. What I didn’t know was why.

Chapter 17

When I arrived at White Feather’s, Lynx was helping Tracy and White Feather unload Dad’s red four-wheel drive truck. It was filled with the burners and exhaust hood from my lab. The cabinets and tables were already unloaded, sitting by the truck. The breath I let out sounded a little like “Aztec Curses,” but I was still inside my car so no one heard. Half of me was annoyed about the stuff being moved without my permission, but the more reasonable side of me knew it was necessary. Still...

White Feather approached as I exited the car and gave me the once over. “We need to figure out how I can get to you faster, because knowing you’re in trouble when I’m miles away isn’t working.” He closed his eyes. “I can’t follow you around every second, and this time I was already
at
your place only you were not.”

He was obviously conflicted, caught between anger and helplessness. Since my own feelings mirrored his, albeit for different reasons, it almost made up for his invasion of my privacy. “Maybe you could just send your wind magic like you did the first time.” I eyed my stuff with a frown. He could have at least told me he was bringing my lab over.

“I sent my wind?”

“I think so.”

“Would you know what to do with it?”

Now there was a problem. “Might take some practice. I see you’ve moved most of my lab.” Voicing my irritation only made it build. I could drain anger into Mother Earth all I wanted; she was more than happy to accept energy, but when my emotions were out of control, I tended to draw power from her, rather than find a ground. And when I drew energy, it needed somewhere to land, such as a spell. Otherwise I was a fuse about to blow.

White Feather recognized the pending explosion. He gripped my arm. “I thought bringing all your supplies over here would mean no more of my heart jumping out of my chest to get to you. But you managed to find other trouble besides a rogue vamp.”

“I didn’t know Zandy was planning an ambush!”

Before we could escalate the argument, Lynx sauntered our way. No way would I air my personal problems in front of him. He’d already heard more than enough. My lips locked down in disgust.

“We moved your stuff without taking anything out of the cabinet,” Lynx said, waving at the cupboards and drawers. “I told him the whole thing could explode anyway.”

“Everything seems to have made it in one piece.” Disappointment warred with common sense. I had spells on that cabinet to protect it and the contents, but this had to count as a failure.

Lynx said, “I wasn’t gonna pick the locks, that’s for sure.” He crossed himself. “White Feather lifted most of it with his wind power. We just had to keep it from tipping over.” His tone carried awe and respect. “I still don’t know why it didn’t explode.”

“I’ll have to see about fixing that. I never thought to protect it against someone taking the whole thing lock, stock and barrel. It’s heavy and unwieldy.”

White Feather’s grin was a little too satisfied for my mood. “I didn’t do anything that would set off any spells. Besides, your magic is attuned to mine, which is why I know when you’re in trouble.”

“Is that it?”

He frowned. “Maybe.”

We walked to the cabinet. There were two spells that had activated, but one must not have worked because neither Lynx nor White Feather had mentioned burns. The delayed reaction spell had definitely been set off, so even if the initial burn hadn’t taken, the later one would. “Lynx, you said you steadied it?” His hands would eventually blister from the delayed curse.

“Me and Tracy. Other than it heating up, it didn’t do nothing.”

“So you did feel heat from the first spell. But White Feather’s wind must have cooled it.” There were ways for me to concoct a stronger spell, not that my cabinet needed protection against White Feather. But his was not the only wind around, as we had experienced not that long ago. “Did you bring the holy water from my lab?”

Lynx shook his head and worriedly began inspecting his hands. “Why?”

“I used parsnip tops in a delay spell. Once your hands are exposed to sunlight for a short time, they will blister. The spell soaks through the skin.” I scowled at his hands. “Never mind. Rather than rinse it off, maybe I can use another trick.” I linked to earth and searched out the dust that would have transferred with the spell. Before I had learned to recognize silver from a distance, I’d never have tried to remove traces of a spell this way, but it was easier than expected. The particles were like little beacons. Calling them to me was easier than silver because they were lighter and attracted to me since I set them.

“Hey!” Lynx jumped back and rubbed his hands against his pants.

“Hold still,” I muttered. “White Feather, you too.”

I pulled, just like I did with the silver. The only difference was that this time, White Feather’s wedding ring glowed for a couple of seconds before the dust went back to Mother Earth.

Lynx was more upset than White Feather. He peered at his hands, inspecting them for traces he hadn’t seen. “Knew I should have stayed out of it. Witches,” Lynx grumbled. “I ain’t gonna move anymore of your stuff.”

His snarky attitude reminded me of Tara, which reminded me of something else. I snapped my fingers. “I have a note for you from Tara. I meant to deliver it to you, but it’s been warmer out, and it’s in my heavier jacket.” I didn’t give him time to complain. I left him arguing with White Feather about how to transport the cabinet into the new lab without Lynx having to touch it. If they were paranoid about any remaining bits of the spell, well, they both should have known better than to mess with my belongings.

In the hallway I met Tracy on his way back outside. I reached for the curse particles without bothering to tell him, but there was nothing there. “Did you touch the cabinet?”

He nodded. “Sure. Had to move it.”

“Can I see your hands?”

He lifted them, palms out. They weren’t clean, but the spell particles were gone or neutralized. “Hmm.” There might have been the faintest traces of my magic, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say they had been completely absorbed—or maybe smothered. “Do you know how you do that? How you manipulate Mother Earth into bricks or how you absorb dirt and change it into what you want it to be?

He stared at his hands. “No.”

Without any sign of worry or curiosity he walked away. He was either really in touch with his karma or he was just plain touched.

I waited until the cabinet was settled in the lab before handing Lynx the note from Tara.

He drifted outside to read it in private, leaving me to inspect the lab. To my amazement, the outside walls were nearly finished. The roofers would be able to start in another day or so.

Tracy hit the showers while White Feather drove the truck back to Dad and picked up burritos.

That left me to wash up and change clothes before putting together a salad. At the rate we were plowing through food, I had better cook up some refried beans and beg tortillas from my mom.

Lynx finally joined me in the kitchen, but turned up his nose at my offer of a carrot. I chopped vegetables and snacked on the results. On my worst day I wouldn’t have asked Lynx why he and Tara had broken up. Even asking him innocent, well-meaning questions was often dangerous.

Lynx glowered at the carrot on the counter with artistic disdain, ears stretched back as though he was half switched to cat. Instead of commenting on the inedibility of vegetables he said, “Tara called me
Bob.
”

My hand jerked involuntarily. The celery stick I was dipping into the ranch dressing nearly sent the bowl over the side of the counter. “What?”

He picked up the carrot from the bar and chewed as though eating poison, smacking his lips rudely. “When I left her at your house and wouldn’t take her with me to the job at Tent Rock.”

My mouth dropped. “Tara called you Bob instead of Lynx?” The deliberate use of his shifter form of “bobcat” rather than his chosen name of “lynx” was either an insult or a threat to expose his true nature. Lynx was already sensitive. He didn’t need a girlfriend touting that she knew he was a bobcat rather than a lynx. He definitely didn’t need her implying that a bobcat was somehow inferior to the name he’d chosen to call himself.

Lynx did not glance my way, but one ear swiveled, and his eyes flashed bobcat yellow.

“Oh.” I had no idea why Lynx had chosen the name he had. Maybe it was because a lynx was larger—although definitely not meaner—than a bobcat. Then again, the kid had been younger than twelve when he found himself on his own, living in the streets. He might not have known the difference between the two cats when he picked the name. I choked on my next bite of food rather than ask.

Lynx happily smacked me across the back while my eyes watered.

“That’s exactly the way I felt.” He seemed deeply satisfied with my reaction, even though my choking had little to do with Tara’s words.

“Enough,” I gasped out, waving him off before he killed me. I swallowed a sip of iced tea. “She has a lot of issues, you know.”

He cut his eyes to me, eyes that had reverted to full human.

I held up my hand before his attitude went further downhill. “Not excusing it. But you may as well find out early how mean her mean streak can be.” With Tara it went past nasty, circled back to ambush, and had no trouble escalating from there. “Bottom line is she has family and because of that, she’s used to being forgiven for just about anything.”

Lynx didn’t have family. He’d never had family. Tara was the baby of the family. They had tried to train her, coax her to do the right thing, coerce her—and even when it all failed, they still loved her. This was not a concept that Lynx could understand, but I tried to explain anyway.

He finished his soda and half a package of crackers long before I was done stuttering on about family nuances. He scratched his chin. “Are you saying I was supposed to,” he cocked his head, “just forget about it?”

“Oooh, no,” I shook my head. “If Kas had pulled something that dirty, there would be hell to pay. She’s my sister and I love her, but no. No, you don’t take that sort of thing sitting down.”

His lips curled in either a smile or a snarl. This was language he understood. “Exactly.”

“But,” I finished setting out plates and utensils. “That’s where it gets tricky. See, I could stop talking to Kas, but she’d still be my sister. Because she’s my sister, I can’t throw a harmful spell at her.” I looked down, guilty. “Well, nothing lethal, you understand.”

Lynx never made noise when he laughed. From the way he leaned over and the delight on his face, he was probably almost hysterical with mirth.

“Are you sure Tara is worth bothering with? It’s not like you’re related, and there might well be someone...less...a lot nicer out there.”

He turned his back on me, putting distance between us. “That’s the thing. I don’t
know.
”

Obviously, the kid missed her. Tara had probably attempted to make amends, and the note proved she wasn’t done trying. “Well, I can’t answer that either. That’s something only you can figure out. I can tell you that her insult doesn’t mean anything other than stupidity. She’s spoiled and not used to paying for stupid remarks or even idiotic actions that put other people at risk.”

Tara had put me in danger, herself in danger, and if Lynx hadn’t been bobcat, he’d have been in danger too. “Yeah, that part I learned. She doesn’t think very hard before she decides she has a great idea.”

Lynx had followed her “thoughtless” ideas a time or two before he wised up. I hesitated, but it needed to be said. “I also don’t know her well enough to know if she likes you for you or if it’s because you’re a shifter.”

His back stiffened.

“Don’t go all feral cat on me! You want to hear it from me or do you want to find out the hard way?”

When he whirled to face me, his hand was raised in a warning cat-swipe.

I folded my arms over my chest. “I mean it, Lynx. I’ve been down this road playing the helpful friend and then gotten blamed because the message was ugly.”

For almost a full minute we stared at each other.

“Women!” he said with some heat.

“Yeah.” His eyes stayed brown with no hint of cat so I told him, “Back when all those women were getting killed by shifters, Tara claimed she wanted to date a werewolf. She spent a lot of time telling White Feather it was perfectly safe.”

“It is.”

“Not then it wasn’t, and you know it. But the thing is, I don’t know if she was yanking his chain or if she wanted to flirt with danger. I don’t know if she really cares about you or if she has some other game she’s playing.”

He was quiet for a bit, but then he asked, “What’s White Feather’s beef with shifters?”

I grinned. “Nothing. So long as they aren’t dating his sister.” Before the fur on his neck could ruffle, I added, “He’s got a thing about
any
guy dating his sister. My dad is like that. Some sort of an overprotective, all guys are trying to get in a girl’s pants thing.”

His face relaxed into a smirk.