Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) (18 page)

"You'll love what I've picked for you, dear heart. Do you like being called that? It's one of those expressions that's nearly antiquated now in English, but given your circumstance, I think it suits you." I smirk as I crush the herb and bone meal mixture with the mortar and grind it fine, then dump it into the vile smelling stew in the stove.

"I knew when I met him that he was your perfect host. That's why I preserved him for you all these years. He looks quite aristocratic from the proper angle. He has that nose that was common among the Pharaohs and the Caesars—you know the one? They call it a Roman nose these days. A strong nose, a masculine nose."

My nether regions stir while I mix the potion, idly day-dreaming of what it will be like to have Ba'al pressed against me full length in Tom's body. It will soon be our time again, but without the interference of Astarte in our affairs.

With the potion ready, I barely let it cool before I tip my head back and take it in. It burns going down, but I barely feel it. I blink, and when my eyes flick open, I see through the eyes of a cat. The size of the cat is right, the eyes low to the ground with the view in the distinct shape of a cat's slits, the right height for a young cat, no longer quite a kitten, and I get a glance at a black paw beneath as he runs along. I need to catch his reflection so I can be sure. The extra spark in Cat's eyes distinguishes him from the other black cats in Giles.

He pads through the woods, on the prowl, and I ride along. He has no way of knowing I'm traveling with him tonight.

Just show me where he goes.

I expect him to head for Gillian's, but he squeezes through a space in the stone wall I recognize as the one that surrounds the old sheep's pasture in Giles woods. He's hunting. As he moves along, barely disturbing a blade of grass as he stalks, I catch the small movements around him as he identifies his prey. The possum's eyes glow red with the small reflected light of the moon through the trees. It's a young one, smaller than Cat. He blasts toward it as it turns to run. He entraps it with his full body wrapped around it, and his teeth move in to the back of the animal's neck for the kill. How delightful to share the hunt with such a creature. But it's over too soon as he drops it and moves on. He leaves the limp body where it falls. He's not hunting because he's hungry. He's as much a sportsman as I am.

He ends up at the small lake just outside the campsite. The campers won't be there. No swimming or boating is allowed after dark, but he sits looking out over the surface. There's a slight breeze and the ripples on the face of the water catch the reflected light of the moon, flickering on and off like tiny beacons in the dark.

It's not possible.

It's not possible!

The cat's vision blackens and when it returns, the line of sight raises to a man's height. A man's eyes look down to the muddy shoreline to a man's feet picking their way toward the water. He walks into it and glides smoothly out toward the center. There can be no mistake. Tom has found a way to unbind himself and control the shift.

I've seen enough. I release the vision and swipe with fury at the items strewn across the kitchen table from my potion-making. Jars, bowls, tins, fly off the surface and slam against the wall. I smash the ceramics on the counter. I must feel the destruction! A drawer full of tableware lands with a satisfying series of crashes when I rip it from its drawer and dash it across the room.

A faint sound catches my attention when I stop to breathe. A regular beat, increasing in volume until it's so loud it causes these human ears pain. I'd forgotten Ba'al's box was on the table. I fall to my knees and crawl across the filth to pick up the beating heart, feeling it pulse against my hands as I place it gently back in the Ab Khr. The sound subsides.

I know, dear heart, I know. We
'll be together again soon.

I hurriedly place the box back into the vent upstairs before I leave.

I leave the car in the camp parking lot and hurry down the path to the lake. When I reach it, I scan the surface for a sign of him. His head skims across the surface as he swims. He's made it so easy for me.

Cat is going to hate what happens next.

I call out to him, laughing. "Oh Tom. Bad, bad Tom."

He sees me now. I don't need to be riding along with him to know it. I hear his "oh hell" ripple outward as it turns from speech to yowl.

It's been a while since I shifted involuntarily, and I've never shifted in the water. I take the cold in through my man/cat mouth, wondering if Cat will drown as I sink below the surface in a frenzy of morphing body parts, but Cat coughs it out as he finally surfaces, his legs pumping frantically toward the nearest shore to escape the water he hates. But that way leads toward capture and away from the phone I left on the lake's edge when I decided to go for a swim. I've got to get that phone. It has the names of all my friends in the contacts. I can't let her get it.

I turn Cat away from the small spit of sandy beach where the demon Anat shakes with laughter in the moonlight. That closer shore is just a quick trip back into slavery. He fights me, but I win in the end, and he turns where I lead. I only hope he can make it out in time and give me time to shift, get that phone fixed back onto my collar, and shift again before she can get to me.

I could face her down as a man, but I sure don't want to. What a fool to think I'd found a few minutes of peace in that moonlit lake. But no—there's no peace for me, not ever. The minute I find some, there she is, taking it away. Cat is still panicking as his legs pump furiously in the cool water, and I can barely think to plan because I am overwhelmed by his single-minded urge to leave the lake behind.

I'm supposed to be protected. How did she find me?

When Cat hits the shore, he shakes his head and limbs furiously, causing droplets to fling out in all directions. I hear the Cassie-thing bearing down on us and get him moving to where I entered the water. I don't give him time to dry himself. I shift and snatch the phone, clamp it back to my collar, and then shift again after giving it a good tug to make sure it's secure. Two shifts in such a short snip of time is agony. But there's only one choice, and that's to run. Normally a cat would have an advantage in the dark woods, but all bets are off now, because that's no human chasing me.

I can't head for safety at Robert's. That would just endanger the people I care about. I'm truly on my own now. I urge Cat on with every mental prod I can muster into a dense part of the woods where a human-size body will have difficulty following.

Despite this, I hear her crashing through the brush after me. She must be artificially animating Cassie's body now. A human wouldn't have the stamina she shows. But she has to tire soon. Hopefully before she tears up Cassie's body any more on the thorns and branches that must tug at her as she pushes through to follow me.

Cat is tiring and can't keep up the pace much longer. We need to keep an eye out for a place to hide. At the end of these woods, there's a cluster of cabins. I'm certain I know the woods better than Eunice did, even though she'd been renting out the cabins for the fifty years since her first husband died and left them to her.

Behind the third cabin, there's an old drainage pipe. It leads away back toward the lake, depositing runoff from the roofs and gutters of the cabins into it. If I can disappear there, she won't be able to follow unless she's taken up shape-shifting, too.

It's pitch black inside, but Cat has been through this way before. He's a curious explorer, particularly when the scent of prey wafts so temptingly from the tube so often. The ready supply of pooled water makes it a draw for the small, tasty things of the forest.

Cat can no longer move as fast as I'd hoped, and if my tracker knows which way I'm heading, this journey will end in despair. But she can't have me in sight yet because she's still crashing through the undergrowth.

I break out of the woods and race through the yard between two of the cabins and urge Cat to pour on the steam toward the entrance to the drain. He squeezes between the bars that prevent larger animals and children from entering.

Cat's a fighter not a hider, but he hunkers down in the tube as I try to keep him calm and slow his breathing. We sit in total darkness now, ten feet into the drain, well below ground. Cat doesn't like the wet rivulet that runs down the center of the pipe when he sinks to his haunches to rest. He backs up one side of the pipe at an angle.

I hope it works, that I've escaped, but in the dark like this in the narrow drain, I have no way of knowing what's going on outside. I can't shift to make a call, but I won't give into the sense of helplessness that monster pushed into my heart when she called out from the shore.

I wait and I wait and I wait. I'm sure it's been hours. Cat's chilled out now, it's time for a nap. But I'm too tense to give in to it. I have to do something, but if I pop my head out, and she's waiting for me…

What about? I bat at the phone, trying to activate it. It doesn't work at first, but now that Cat has a toy, he persists. It takes forever, but finally, I activate the redial. Robert's voice answers, "Hello? Tom?"

I let Cat get in one good yowl before I force him into silence. I hope that it's enough.

I follow the sounds of Tom's feline body traveling through the woods and enhance the girl's vision with a simple spell that allows me to detect his movements more quickly. It isn't hard to follow. He chose a path that wouldn't allow him silence. If he doubles back or veers off, I'll know just by standing completely still for a few moments and listening. I concentrate on the direction he's heading despite the branches that lash and cut.

Human flesh is so limiting, even when pressed on with magical strength. It slows me down.

I need Tom's body for my plans, but I also need to know which witch has undone my magic. None of the witches in Giles should have been able to follow the threads of my spell. They're laughingly weak compared to the sorceresses of my day.

I duck below a branch and raise my arm against another as it rushes toward my face. It wouldn't do to lose an eye or two. When I catch Tom, he'll suffer before his soul disappears forever, and then I'll find and punish his witch as well. How dare anyone undo my handiwork? I'll enjoy watching their pain. Yes, the eyes need to be protected.

Finally. A clearing. I scan it quickly. Nothing moves in front of me. There are no sounds of the chase that I can follow. He must be hiding now, sure he's safe.

I remove the cap from the bottle I'd stowed in a pocket before leaving the shop. I drink and my vision goes black. Not dead. Not the dim reddish-gray canvas of closed eyes. Cat's eyes are open to deep darkness. I have no way to tell where he's gone unless he starts moving in the light again. And I've used the last of the potion. Its effects are already starting to fade, and I haven't got a fresh piece of him to make more.

He's escaped me again. Damn him.

I want to take a chance and pop my head out, but I have no idea how patient this Anat thing is. She could be sitting right outside the entrance to the drain, waiting to ensnare me. I urge Cat back toward the entrance, and he slinks along on his belly because his night vision doesn't work in this kind of blackness. After a few feet, a swath of moonlight appears ahead. We're getting closer to the drain. I prick my ears up, listening for any tell-tale sound from above. There's a leafy scuffling sound. I freeze.