Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) (17 page)

"Well, that certainly doesn't sound good, does it? But I thought you'd cleared out Eunice's darkest magical items."

"Yes, well, there were some special items left in the attic. I was researching them. To have this come up missing—I wonder if you'd keep your ears open and ask around. I wouldn't be the least surprised to find out that Robert or Natalie had gone prowling through the house looking for anything of Eunice's they could turn to their own use."

She purses her lips and taps them with a forefinger as she rests her chin on her hand. "I'm sure it's not Nat. She's barely recovered from that bug she had earlier in the week. Plus, it's not really her style—she's more of an impulse shopper." She smiles at her own joke about Natalie's thievery. She continues when I don't respond, "And Robert? He's been very distracted since his son's death. I can't imagine him getting himself together enough to go prowling around your shop to inventory Eunice's things. What was it exactly? I'd be better able to keep an eye out for it if I knew what I was looking for."

I glare at her. "I'm just saying it could be very dangerous for whoever might have it. If you know who it is, they need to return it immediately."

She leans back in her seat and her eyes widen in response to my anger. This friendly visit is veering into unfriendly territory, and I need her to spread the word and report back to me like she would to Cassie. I reign my anger in and say, in what I hope is a soothing tone, "I'm sorry. I'm just so…worried about what could happen with such a dangerous relic." I force my face into an expression of concern. It's uncomfortable. I don't like it. But I freeze it there anyway. "I completely wouldn't want to see anyone be hurt." There, that's the kind of insipid thing Cassie would say.

Gillian's face softens. "Oh sweetheart, of course. I understand. I'll definitely ask around. Although, if I just drop it into Nat's ear, the word will spread through the gossip network before the end of the day, no matter how poorly she's doing."

"Good. Thank you." I stand to leave, but as I do, I notice a black filament on her tasteless 80s rose-print couch. I tweeze it up between my thumb and forefinger for a closer look. "This is a black cat hair."

"Is it?" she returns.

The muscles in my forehead tighten as I scrutinize her. "Are you hiding Cat from me?"

Her head shifts forward as her brow pulls down, deepening the lines between her eyebrows and accentuating her meaty double-chin. "Why would I hide Cat from you? That probably came in on my skirt after one of the strays down at the farmer's market rubbed up against my legs. Really, sweetheart, you seem so stressed. Is there anything I can do?"

"No. No, I'm fine. I'm just paranoid after this break in. It was upsetting to discover a stranger had gone through the house when I wasn't there. It's made me question everything."

She shows me out, grinning, clownish, the soul of innocence, but I'm going to keep a closer eye on that one. She's a fool, but she's a powerful fool.

Robert and I are just sitting down to breakfast when my phone rings. I answer, and a long stream of anxiety pours out.

"She found one of Cat's hairs on the sofa, Tom. I don't think she believed me about the stray cat at the market. She was right there at my door at the crack of dawn, asking me to find out if someone had stolen a relic from the shop, and she was openly threatening about what would happen if it wasn't returned. She's not doing a very good job of staying in character."

"Eunice or Anat or whatever she is?"

"Yes. And she mentioned Nat and Robert by name. I have to admit I'm scared. I'm scared for all of us."

"Hang on a minute." I fumble to find the mute button and then repeat what I'd just learned to Robert with my own suggestion for what needs to happen. I'm back on the phone quickly.

"Robert has two guest rooms and serious wards around the house that are regularly renewed. Call Nat and tell her to pack. We'll be out to pick both of you up as soon as he gets our morning coffee into travel cups."

I dress in a hooded sweatshirt despite the warm day, and Robert hands me a pair of sunglasses to complete my disguise. It's a short trip through town, but with Anat looking for someone to blame, the last thing any of us need is for her to spot me.

Gilly meets us at the back door when we pull into the drive. "Robert, your offer of a guest room is lovely, but I'm not sure I want to stay there. I may have panicked a bit."

Robert begins to respond, but I cut him off. "Okay, then. Robert, go ahead and let's just take her to the shop and deliver her straight to Anat. She doesn't want our protection."

"That level of sarcasm is unnecessary, Tom," Gillian replies.

"Is it? Then, what level
is
necessary? We're not talking about some old lady who's looking to give you a slap—we're talking about an ancient goddess-demon who thinks you may have something she wants and will do anything to get it back. I doubt she'd think twice about killing you where you stand. That you're still here means we get a chance to keep you safe. So you're going to Robert's."

"Fine," she responds, her mouth tight with that I'm-mad-but-I-also-know-you're-right expression I know far too well. "But what do I say about why Nat and I are staying there if anyone notices?"

"Robert's finally joined the free love movement and the two of you are his lovers?" I joke, but no one's laughing, and this weird look crosses both of their faces. Oh no…they can't be…

Of course not. I bat that thought away. Far away.

Robert has a sensible suggestion. "It's not unheard of for the leaders of the coven to close ranks during periods of leadership transition. We can tell people there's been a rift between the two of you over governance of the choir and that you've moved into the house while I moderate the disagreement to assure that it's resolved safely."

She sighs, then ushers me in to pick up her bag.

Nat has a few too many suitcases for a short stay, but Robert stows them in the back without a word. When she slides in next to me on the wide bench seat, a little too close for comfort, as always, we're off again. Soon we're waiting for the sliding iron gates at Robert's place to clank open. As soon as there's enough space, the SUV slides through and the gates close behind us.

Safety for now. But even with multiple wards by multiple practitioners, including, as Robert earlier informed me, a hundred-year-old shaman, who knows what a goddess is capable of?

I start to head up the stairs with the luggage when Robert's phone beeps. He flashes the screen at Gillian who raises her eyebrows as she reads it. He beckons to me, "Wait a minute, Tom. Put them down here for now. Doug's sent something to Gillian's email."

Gilly grabs her laptop bag from the pile and heads for the library with the rest of us trailing like a string of ducklings. "Just let me get the laptop booted up and we'll see if it's as exciting as he claims."

Natalie ensconces herself in a gigantic leather-covered chair then takes a bottle out of her purse. The smell of good whiskey fills the room when she twists off the cap. "Anyone?"

Robert goes to the sideboard and carries a tray full of delicate china tea cups over. "Fill 'em up. I, for one, could use a swig or two right now."

Gillian nods at Nat and picks up a cup once it's full. "It's about time somebody offered me something other than tea in this house."

I grab my cup and sip at it, not wanting to end up sloppy drunk after forty-five years of unexpected sobriety. I'm more of a cocktail man, but the whiskey goes down smooth. I almost begin to relax.

Gillian slants the laptop screen toward us and we all lean in to look at what she's put up on the screen. "Okay. Hmmmm. He scanned a few pages from one of his books. Do you see the drawing of the box? It looks just like ours."

I lean closer, peering over her shoulder. "Same marks for life, death, and rebirth."

"So what's interesting," she says as she looks directly at me, "and stay focused, Tom, because you're going to be glad you did—this box was found hidden in the room of a young woman whose relatives claimed she was possessed. Happened in France, maybe five hundred years ago. She killed two of the village priests when they tried to exorcise her."

"What happened to her?"

"Even more interesting. Her family went into the countryside looking for a witch woman to help them. They no longer believed the church had anything to offer. She came and brought friends. They were able to send the spirit into an animal, a wolf, and they took the box away to destroy the heart that it contained. The young woman recovered completely and immediately and never talked crazy again."

"And?" I raise my eyebrows, waiting for Gillian to get to the point.

"There is no 'and' Tom. They drove it out. It can be done."

"It's no help unless it tells us how. We're as much in the dark as we were before."

Natalie gives me the hairy eyeball and offers me the bottle.

"Sorry." I hold up a hand to decline it. "I don't mean to get angry. I'm just tired of talking instead of doing."

Gillian says, "The point is, Tom, the knowledge exists. In France, those old covens have history with each other. I don't know why I didn't think about contacting Maryse before this, but a little networking never hurt."

Robert raises his glass to me in a toast. "To networking."

I shrug. "To networking." The tinkling clink of the cups reminds me of the shop door opening. Anyone, anything could be beyond it.

Gillian plops into the chair next to me in the den, where I'm practicing my newly developed ability to flip through 150 channels of TV over and over again without finding anything worth watching. "That was the strangest call. Aurelie asked a lot of questions about the situation, but when I asked her if her coven had ever heard about anything like this, she muted the phone and when she came back, she basically said that I was not to call the high priestess about this issue ever again. She sounded upset. Even a little stroppy, if you ask me."

"That's not like Aurelie. At least, not the little I know her."

"No, Tom, it's not. I would have liked to talk directly to High Priestess Maryse, but apparently it's not going to be allowed. I think Maryse knows something and doesn't want to let us in on it."

"Why would they hide anything from us? I mean, they came all the way here from France just to help me take control of my shifting."

"I know that. That's why this is so frustrating. You know how they kept telling you, 'the magic of our coven must be protected'? I think they're protecting some magic that they don't want us to know about. You know how secretive Maryse can be. She even pretended she didn't know English most of the time she was here. And, of course, Aurelie would never talk out of school. She dotes on the old priestess."

I give her what I once would have called my Tom-on-the-prowl smile. "You want me to call her? You know the chicks can't resist the ol' Tom Sanders charm. I'll have her spilling all her magical secrets, peeling off her dress, and begging me to marry her within minutes."

She laughs. "Oh, I have no doubt…but really, there's something going on there, and I don't have time to play games with them. We're just going to have to write off the idea of getting help from that direction."

Her phone rings. She looks at the screen, then answers it, looking surprised. "Aurelie?"

She listens for less than a minute, then says goodbye.

When she looks up at me, she looks confused. "Well, that was odd. All she said was, 'It takes a goddess to fight a goddess.' And then she hung up."

I'd tried to locate Tom using some of the hair I found in the house, but his essence had decayed too much due to the length of time since he shed it. I should have tried again with more material to concentrate any essence that was left, but I had so many things on my mind. And, of course, the eventful trip to Egypt. It all got in the way. Now anything he's left in the house will be too old to use.

But if Gillian is lying and this hair is a recent dropout from Cat's coat, then I may be able to tease out his location, no matter how far away he's gone. I drop it into the simmering potion on the stove to amplify whatever essence is left. I talk to Ba'al, safe inside his box beside me, as I work.