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

I nod, reluctant, as I reel my temper in.

"Good boy." She pats my hand. "Robert, do you have anything in that library of yours that might help?"

"I have some older volumes on demonology, including some I picked up the last time I was in Europe and haven't had time to catalog yet. The usual arcane topics. They'd certainly discuss possession. But I don't know if there's anything there that will help. And a couple of them are in French."

"I read French," Gillian says. "I could get stuck in to those if the rest of you work on the others."

They're so civilized and scholarly. So calm. "Books? I don't need books. I need magic, I need fire, I need lightning. I need an enchanted tire iron to pry her out of there and get Cassie back."

Natalie gives me a withering look. "You said you were done."

She pauses, looking at me pointedly before she continues. "Nothing is going to get resolved tonight. It's too late in the evening, and it's too dangerous to try anything before we know what we're up against. And, my boy, this trio is old, and I'd hazard a guess, just a little drunk. I say we meet at Robert's tomorrow morning to start on those books."

"No, we should get moving. Do you expect me to just sit and wait?"

"Yes. Because Nat's right," Gillian says. "And you need to keep your head down so Eunice doesn't find out you're not dependent on anyone else to control your shifting now. If you go dashing about in anger, you'll slip up, and she'll find out fast enough. Let her think nothing has changed for you and Cat."

"You're right. I know you're right. If she doesn't know what happened after she died, that's one trick I've still got up my furry black sleeve." I take a deep breath through gritted teeth. Eunice won't control me again. "Gilly, can I stay with you? I've got nowhere to go."

"Not a good idea. If Eunice figures out you can control your form, I'd be the first person she thinks of. You'd be better off with someone else. Robert?"

Robert nods. "You can stay at the house. Plenty of room. Kevin and I still haven't mended our fences, so you won't be in danger of his finding you there." He's talking about his son who Cassie and I ratted out for using magic to peep into women's windows.

No one really has to say it, but they all know there was something more. In fact, I'm sure he murdered Eunice even though I'd never be able to prove it. But if he did, she allowed it. It's clear now she knew she wasn't going to stay dead.

I don't respond right away as I roll Robert's offer around in my head. I've never trusted him, and I've never liked him because of our unfortunate romantic rivalry for Eunice all those years ago, but he's turned out to be a stand-up guy, throwing his support behind Cassie against his own son. He even made it impossible for Kevin to handle spelled objects, including creating the potions he was so fond of, to assure that he can't use magic to hurt or manipulate people anymore.

When I don't respond right away, Natalie does a Mae West thing with her shoulder and says, "I'd be happy to loan you a room. Maybe I could even get that strip show, eh?"

I turn immediately to Robert. "Thanks, Robert. I appreciate it. Do you have a ground floor room so Cat can get in and out easily?"

"Absolutely. I have the perfect one."

I shift and hop into Gilly's bag as Cat, then she follows Robert out to his car, where I disembark and crawl under the front seat for the ride. I take no chances. Eunice isn't going to know a thing about me until the day—and it's coming soon—that I tear her out of the body she had no right to take and send her back to hell.

Robert settles me in to a large room on the first floor. Big windows. I crack one of them open, and the night noises waft in.

My mind races, and it doesn't want anything to do with the demands of my exhausted body. The open window beckons into the night. I start moving even as I shift, my appendages truncating, compacting smaller and smaller.

It's an easy leap to the sill. And then a short hop down to run swift and free down the drive and into the dimly lit streets of Robert's toney neighborhood, heading downtown.

Across the street from Cat's Magical Shoppe there's a bakery, and next to it, an alley. I blend in to the dark.

I watch as a shadow crosses the lace curtains on the second floor of the old Victorian that houses the shop and living quarters above it, and then the lights go out.

There isn't much to see.

There isn't much to do.

There's too damn much to feel.

I'm glad that cats can't cry. I would drown here in this alley. But even as I sit and stare at the darkened window, a plan is beginning to take shape.

A poet once said that hope is the thing with feathers. If you buy that, then you'll believe it when I tell you that hope will hang around your feet being chummy, cooing, and waiting for bread crumbs. Just don't ever drop your guard.

Because hope, I've discovered, is also the thing with a sharp beak. Just when you're cruising comfortably close to the thing you most desire, hope will zoom right in and peck your eyes out.

Cat would normally be awake and alert long before anything gets close enough to land a peck, but he doesn't jolt to consciousness until the pigeon's beak hooks an ear and reels it in. Eunice must have a hand in this, must be sending me a message. The pain is fierce. By the time I spring to my feet with a long hisssssss, forcing cat's hackles and tail straight up, the bird is already winging away.

It lands on the bench across the street in front of the magic shop and struts along its length, peering here and there with its head rocking side to side in that irritating pigeon way. Probably looking for another victim in the dawn's new light.

It won't be me again. I haven't figured anything out here that I couldn't have figured out in a warm bed at Robert's. Staying longer isn't going to make a difference. It won't save Cassie. It won't bring her back to me.

I take one last look at the second floor, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and I'm sure I see the gauze curtain move. I imagine her smiling down at me with only my loving girlfriend there instead of Eunice lurking behind her eyes. But Cassie doesn't brush the curtains aside. And even if she did, I know the truth. It will take more than hope to free her.

I slip out the back of the alley. Soon, I'm into the woods where some poor woodland creature will pay the price for my pain.

"Did you sleep at all, Tom?" Gillian asks as I enter the kitchen dressed in the clothes someone had thoughtfully placed on a chair in my room. They're a snug fit, but the length is good. And way too button-down for my taste. Must be hand-me-downs from my host.

Back when we were rivals and Robert still had hair, he looked just as good in a pair of bell-bottoms as I did, even though his were the young Republican version. And I have to admit, he always had more sense. He dropped Eunice and ran when I was still sniffing around her every chance I got. I may still have my hair and my youth, but the only other thing of value I've had in the past forty-five years was my short time with Cassie.

Gillian reaches for a gooey cinnamon roll and my stomach rumbles, responding to the empty feeling that I know food won't completely fill.

I sit down and grab for one while Robert maneuvers his way around the massive metal kitchen island, then pours me a cup of coffee from a french press. I gesture toward my clothes as he sets it down in front of me. "Thanks for these."

"Not a problem. Whatever you need while you're here, just ask." The doorbell sounds. "That'll be Natalie. Pour her a cup of coffee, would you, Gillian?" Robert heads for the door.

I'm kind of surprised he doesn't have a butler in this old mansion. I'm also surprised that he brews his own coffee. But it's early. Maybe the help hasn't arrived yet. Or maybe I don't really know anything about him because I was too busy thinking with my nether parts back in the day.

I start on my own coffee as Gillian readies another cup. My early-morning face must be grim. She says, "If I could have kept my eyes open last night, I'd have been willing to start figuring this out right then. You're not the only one who loves Cassie, Tom."

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I never did tell Cassie that I love her. It's too early; it's too new between us. We're both so screwed up by Eunice. But now, I wish I'd said it despite my fears when we were dozing together that last morning. She turned to smile at me, radiant, her long brown hair spilling across the bed in shining waves. But I couldn't shape my lips around the right sounds. It came out instead as "you're beautiful," while I moved toward her with only my lust letting it all hang out.

Stupid me. Always ready for action. Never ready to tell anyone what I feel. But I guess I still don't really believe that someone so good, someone so kind, could find something worthwhile in me after all those years I served, however reluctantly, on the side of evil. Even now, clenched lids keep my emotions from overflowing.

"Oh, Tom…" Gilly hugs me around the neck. "You've got the three most powerful witches on the eastern seaboard at your disposal until we have Cassie back with us. And every single one of us is happy to take our shot at destroying Eunice for good, even if we all have different reasons."

"I know," I say, unclenching, back under control, no emotions spilled. But it's been so long since I had to deal with human emotions on a daily basis. All of it, the anger, the caring, the fear, the urgency, the heartache: I don't know how to deal with any of it. Most of that just went away all those years I was Cat.

Natalie and Robert appear in the doorway, Natalie holding daintily to Robert's crooked arm. She gives Gillian a smile, but it looks more smug than friendly. "We're heading to the library now."

Gilly grabs her coffee in one hand, the cup she fixed for Nat in the other, and follows after them. I get up to go, too, my coffee forgotten, my heart in turmoil again as the empty room underscores the emptiness inside. All I want is Cassie in my arms again. I grab a pad and paper off the table as I follow Gilly down the hall. It's time to write down the plan that started forming in my Cat-brain last night.

Nat slams her book shut with a thud. I look up from my nap-invoking tome about Middle Eastern conceptions of the underworld, glad for a chance to do anything else with my eyes other than keep reading. I've been going back and forth between it and my plan, which now has a lot of scribbles about things to try: some of them are even sensible, but none of them are doable without knowing what will happen to Cassie if we go after Eunice.

"There's nothing in here. Not even a mention of those skinwalkers you talked about, Robert. How do we even know Cassie is still present, still there?"

"Natalie!" Gillian responds. "Of course she is! And it's just a matter of time before we figure out how to help her. We've only been working at this for a few hours."

"No, I want proof. I need to know we can still save her. If we can't, then we can just go nuclear on the old witch."

I set my book aside, "Fine. If it gets things moving, how do you prove it?"

Nat glances toward the ceiling, lips compressed. You can almost see the wheels turning. When she looks back, she points to the group with the long, sharp, red-painted nail of her left index finger. "We'd have to keep the spell we do small. We don't want a lot of magic floating around so close to Eunice. She might sense it, know we're probing. So, nothing fancy. No floating medallions or group chants like the ones we used to find Tom when he went missing."

I'm sick of this—she's acting like it's an intellectual exercise instead of life or death. Where is everyone's sense of urgency? I blurt, "So, go ahead. Tell us the plan. Let's get going."

"Tsk. Patience." Natalie gives me a scolding look. "It wouldn't put as much magic out there to use caraway and rosemary instead of invoking the Goddess."

Gillian nods. "It also has less chance of success. That's why we went all out for Tom."

"I know," Nat says. "But you forget that we already know where Cassie is,
if
she is. I've got an oil that would work well for this. All we need is for the oil to turn blue during the questing. If it does, we know it's found the backwash from her essence. We don't have to spill the oil to make the path to lead us to her. We can end the spell and reuse that little bit of essence to hide Tom from the same kind of tricks."

"So, you could find Cassie? And then you could make sure Eunice can't locate me? Let's do it." I spring up to give her a hug, but I unhug her and step back fast when she gives my butt a pinch. She's such an old pervert. And I'm trusting her with Cassie's safety? She cackles a little as I pull away. Seriously, she cackles.

"Of course it will, dear. I'm surprised you still doubt me after all I've done for you. Robert, do you have caraway, rosemary, and jasmine oil?"

"All but the jasmine oil. The rest is in the kitchen."

Gilly speaks up. "I haven't got any, either, but it's available in the shop. I could go pick some up."

I add to the plan when I realize her trip can serve a double purpose. "And you could sound out Eunice to see if she really doesn't know what went on when she was dead. If she knows how things are, then I don't have to sneak around anymore. We can be more direct, because she'll already be on the lookout for me," I say. "It's a good idea. I'm going with you." I jump to my feet, ready to take off.