Silence. I strained all my senses, waiting for any hint of Owen’s power. But if it came now, how would Imani be able to stop him since she couldn’t see him? She wouldn’t know where to direct her spell.
Will spoke into his wrist piece. It was like being in a movie with American government operatives. How did my life get this surreal? I totally needed a holiday. “We’ll clear the south wing; you clear the north. Then we’ll head upstairs.” As he slipped to the left through a doorway, he said over his shoulder, “Stay with me. And put up your return-to-sender.”
Ah, crap. Rookie mistake. I’d forgotten again. I threw it up and followed, Imani behind me. Will called out again, “PIB, show yourself, Owen Thomas Small-Cox!”
Will and Imani’s footsteps were almost silent as we hurried over the swanky parquet floors, through high-ceilinged rooms full of expensive paintings, furniture, and knickknacks. This guy was out to impress, if the fresco-ceilinged ballroom was anything to go by.
Eventually, we were back in the entryway, no sign of Mr Small-Cox anywhere. Will pointed, and we ventured up the sweeping staircase. He called out again, but there was no answer. We rushed through one bedroom, then another, and another. Nothing. When we’d covered it all, Will spoke into his wrist. “All clear. Copy.” The other agent must have responded because then he said, “You stay here. If he happens to come back, cuff him and let me know straight away. Remember: take him alive. We’re going to the theatre.”
At least once he was back here, he couldn’t travel out again—he’d be trapped, but still, a cornered rat might try anything, so he was still dangerous. And what if someone accidentally killed him before we could get him to remove his spells?
Liv would die.
I swallowed against the nausea rolling up my throat.
Will gave Imani a nod, then looked at me. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll have to travel from the front gates so we don’t get caught in the catch spell.” He jogged away from us, and we followed. At the gates, Will made the doorway. “You come with me, Lily.” He grabbed my hand, and we stepped through into a clean bathroom stall. He flicked the lock up, and we hurried out, leaving room for Imani to come through. At the main bathroom door into the theatre, Will hesitated while she caught up.
Will pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it before pointing to the different areas. “Here’s a map of the place. Performer changing rooms are here. His show is happening in here. I would think he’d be in one of those two places. We’ll have to stay together because we need Lily to tell us if he’s casting a spell.”
I didn’t want to hold things up, but I had to know. “Why didn’t Ma’am put a catch spell on this place too?”
Will spoke quickly, likely wanting to get on with it. “It would take too long. This place is huge. It would’ve been a mammoth effort to set up the one at his home, so we used resources there. This one would take three or four witches an hour to set up. We just didn’t have time.”
“Okay. Sorry. Just wanted to know.” If I didn’t ask questions, how would I ever learn? As much as Angelica was meant to be my mentor, she didn’t often stop to explain things unless I asked. If I’d left it up to her, I’d know pretty much almost nothing.
“Protocol for bystanders?” Imani asked.
“Hang on.” Will pulled out his phone and dialled. “Ma’am. Yes…. No…. We’re at the Coliseum. We’re not sure, but we may need mindwipes. I haven’t got a number, no.” He stared past me as she spoke. After a minute, he said, “Okay. Will do. Bye.” He addressed Imani. “She’s sending a standby team of four. They’ll deploy in ten minutes so we can keep the magic pings to a minimum.” Travelling didn’t make too much noise as far as spells went, but if there were a few witches coming through, maybe it was louder. How loud had we been? Did he know something was going on? Nah, surely he wouldn’t have any idea. He’d just be getting ready for his show, oblivious. I growled. Oblivious to my best friend dying in her hospital room. Oblivious to the woman who had died last night. My veins turned to ice—how she must have felt, trying to breathe and not able to get it in, knowing she was choking again. The whole thing was horrific.
Will pinned me with an intense battleship-grey stare. “No-notice spell on now. Stay behind Imani. And you have only one job—tell Imani if he casts a spell. Okay?”
I nodded firmly while adding my no-notice spell to my return-to-sender, hoping he could see in my eyes that I meant it—I was going to behave, only do what they’d asked, because, yes, I had a history of going rogue. I was not going to stuff this up. My friend’s life was at risk. If I messed up, it would be my fault she died. My heart rate kicked up a notch, and I had to take a couple of slow breaths. The best thing I could do right now was block out what was at stake; otherwise I’d be useless.
Will opened the door and stuck his head through, checking before entering the hallway. Imani followed, and I went after her. We jogged down the hallway, the air imbued with the lingering perfume of a thousand dressed-up theatregoers and time-worn architecture.
Unfortunately, there were people wandering about—a couple of workers, and a handful of people roaming through, admiring the opulence of the high patterned ceilings and old-world ambiance. Not many, but enough that maybe they’d notice something going down if it were loud enough. Will seemed to ignore them all though as he kept his focus ahead.
He turned right, and we entered a low-lit corridor. Every now and then, I jerked my head around to look over my shoulder. No one followed. I tried to keep my awareness on everything around me, waiting for that telltale sign of magic. Although if he cast a spell now, it wouldn’t be anything to do with us. I guessed I had to worry about it when he knew we were here. But if I felt his magic, it would mean he was definitely here. Will hadn’t heard from Agent Cardinal, so Owen mustn’t have been at the office. But what if his assistant alerted him? Crap. Surely Cardinal wouldn’t let that happen. Gah, I had to trust that the professionals knew what they were doing. Second-guessing them would get me nothing but an ulcer.
Please be here. Please be here.
We reached the end of the hallway and a door that said Changing Rooms. Will put his ear to the door and listened. Then he turned the handle and shoved the door open. We entered a bland white-painted room with three doors off it. Will and Imani approached each door in turn, possibly deciding which one to go into.
I stood back, practically holding my breath and just being aware. A faint breath of magic tickled the back of my neck. I shuddered. It wasn’t his magic. I whispered, “There’s another witch here. They just did something.”
They looked at me. Will’s wrinkles were as fierce as ever. He whispered, “I felt it. Do you recognise it?”
“No.” There it was again, brushing down my spine this time.
Will must have noticed my shiver. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?”
I looked at each door, although that would never give me the answer. It didn’t feel as if that’s where it had emanated from. I looked at the ceiling. “I think it’s above us… somewhere. Maybe over there a bit. I pointed to the wall. “The actual theatre area maybe?”
Will nodded. “Okay. Well, we still have to clear these rooms. You said it wasn’t him, right?”
“Yes, as in, no; it wasn’t him.” So confusing. Lucky I wasn’t running this show.
“Right.” He turned to Imani. “We’ll take one each. Whoever gets out here first can take the last one.”
She gave him a nod and raised her gun. As one door slammed open, then the other, and they rushed in, I backed up against the wall so I could see all the doors and the corridor we’d just walked through and not worry about someone sneaking up behind me. Within thirty seconds, they were back out. They gave each other a nod, as if to say, all clear. Then Will forced open the last door and entered. Imani stood guard outside it.
The magic tingled again, and it was definitely coming from above us.
A woman screamed, “Get out!” Will backed out of the door, a rotun
d older lady pushing him. I wasn’t sure what was bigger: her yellow beehive hairdo or her ample stomach. “These are private quarters. I don’t know what show you’re from, but this area is out of bounds. Be out with your fool self.” She gave him a final shove and slammed the door. He turned to look at me, a harried expression on his face. Imani snorted, and I bit back a smile.
He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his tie. When he’d composed himself, he turned to Imani. “All clear.”
Her lip quirked up on one side. “Almost, apparently.”
I wished we could joke about the encounter, but Liv was dying right now, and, well… that was it, really. “I felt the magic again. Upstairs.”
“Right. The only place left is the theatre. If he’s not there….” Imani straightened her shoulders against the implied despair in what she’d said. If he’s not there, where the hell was he, and would we find him in time? I blew out a sigh and reset. Don’t think. Just do.
I started down the hallway, back the way we’d come. “We can’t find him standing around. Come on.”
Will pushed past me to lead, and Imani stayed behind me. I kept my feelers out for magic. Back in the main corridor, a few more people filed past, chatting, laughing. Oblivious. Will touched his earpiece, stopped abruptly, and turned. The opposite way to where we were going must be the front entrance because four agents were striding down the hallway. Must be the mindwipe team. Would that be the official name? It would be kinda cool on a card: Byron Smith, Manager, Mindwipe Division.
Will gave them a nod, then pivoted. We resumed our trek towards the theatre. Then the doors were there, looming. I swallowed. This had to go well. He had to be there. Please be there.
My heart raced as Will put his palm on the door and pushed.
I sucked in a breath. Wow. We weren’t here on a sight-seeing tour, but as I searched for Owen, the majesty of the space was impossible to ignore. Three stories of balconies rose towards the domed ceiling. Maroon and red velvet, bronze and gold trimmings, from the rows upon rows of plush seats to the incredibly detailed walls and ceiling to the orchestra pit and stage, opulent didn’t begin to describe it. And standing in the middle of the stage talking to two men was something that didn’t belong amongst such grandeur.
Mr Small-Cox.
I wasn’t going to call him by what he wanted since being self-important was what he was all about. He’d killed to maintain the status quo, even if it was indirectly. The simmering heat of my anger intensified. The bubbling began in my stomach, sending fire through my veins. He was not getting away. The only positive of this situation was that he was here. Our search had ended, thank God.
He spied us and stopped speaking. The other men with him were dressed head to toe in black. I recognised them as his handlers, the ones from Liv’s party. Small-Cox put his hands on his hips and raised his voice. “This theatre is off limits. You’ll have to leave, or I’ll call security.”
Will headed towards the stage and raised his gun. “I’m afraid we won’t be leaving for a moment.” My shoulders tensed. How was Owen going to react to the threat? His two goons hurried towards the front of the stage where a black ramp covered the distance from the stage across the orchestra pit. Two different magics feathered my nape. I shuddered. Gross. It was like being touched by someone I didn’t know. Ew. Owen’s magic wasn’t in the mix… yet. But why didn’t Imani just try and freeze him anyway? Strike before there was a real need to. Wasn’t she allowed? Kind of like a police officer could only shoot under certain circumstances? And UK police didn’t even carry guns… but the PIB did, and they currently had them trained on the stage.
Imani glanced at me, a questioning look on her face. I shook my head. “There are two witches using magic, but not him.”
“Okay, thanks.” She and Will walked carefully towards the side of the stage with the ramp. I stayed behind them, my gaze never leaving Owen.
He kept his hands on his hips, elbows out like a rooster trying to assert dominance as he observed us down the length of his nose. “What are you still doing here?”
Will was closer to the stage. Owen’s men had traversed the ramp. They jumped down to the bottom level of the theatre and headed towards Will and Imani with arrogant strides. One of them said, “You can’t be in here. You need to leave. Now.”
Will lifted his gun, pointed it at them. “Stop right there.” His gaze flicked to Owen, then back to his two guys who’d probably worked out by now that we were witches—took them long enough. They were likely too busy being arrogant to worry about it before. No one had thrown a spell, which would be nuts since we all had our return-to-senders up. I crossed my fingers it would stay that way.
Imani edged around the side of the group so she and Will had the two men well and truly covered. She gave a chin tip. “We’re from the PIB. Put your hands on your heads and turn around.”
The slightly taller goon stopped, but he didn’t make any move to put his hands on his head. “You can’t just come in here and do that. Where’s your warrant? How do I even know you’re actually from the PIB?”
Will’s magic tickled my scalp, and the arrest warrant floated in the air, unfolded, and hovered close enough for the guy to read it. Will hadn’t stated anything about Owen being under arrest yet—it must be because he didn’t want him to try and run, but he had to say it at some point. Before the guy could get a great look at the paper, it disappeared. Well played, Will.
The other guy looked back at his boss, who’d lowered his arms. Was he getting ready to run? He must have been wondering what was happening. Did he even know what his magic had been doing to people? And if he did, did he even care?
Imani’s voice rang out loudly across the theatre. “Put your hands on your heads and turn around.”
“Not until you tell us who’s under arrest.” The first guy was not going down without at least an argument. Damn that guy.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Without taking my eyes off Owen, I pulled it out. Oh, crap. I was going to have to take my eyes off Owen. What if the message was important? I lifted the phone so I still had him in the background. It was from Beren. As I read it, dread iced my skin.
We’re losing her, Lily. I’m doing my best, but I can’t hold her here much longer. The spell’s gone into overdrive. I’m going to burn out trying to save her. B.
It was as if I were falling into a chasm. The horror of having a minute to know you were about to die and not being able to do anything about it was excruciating, but in this case, my friend was the one facing oblivion. My stomach dropped, and my head spun. This had to happen right now.
“She’s dying, Will. She’s almost gone.”
My words triggered something in Owen. He stared at me, but rather than shock or fear, it was anger, like I’d gone and messed up his birthday party by forgetting the cake or opening his present for him. His magic pinged my spine. “Imani. He’s using it!”
Power assaulted me, peppering my scalp as everyone unleashed. So much for return-to-senders being able to stop everything.
Imani threw her hands towards Owen. His magic stopped flowing, and he stood stiffly, unmoving. One of Owen’s thugs leapt for Will, while the other fired a spell at him. Will’s gun went off as he flew backwards. One of the bad guys also careened backwards—whatever he’d hit Will with must have returned to him. The other guy had stopped coming after Will and stared at Imani. His lips moved as he cast another spell. But why? She had her— Oh, crap. She didn’t. I looked at her aura, and she had no defensive spells set. The only spell she had was the one she was using on Owen. Were they mutually exclusive? Is that why she’d held off? Is that why she’d been overly stressed?
A force slammed into Imani, lifting her off her feet and flinging her across the room. She landed on her back on the top of a red velvet seat with a heavy grunt and crack. Owen, free of her spell, turned and ran. Will and Imani were down, but I couldn’t let him get away.
And there it was. I almost choked at the feel of his m
agic. I imagined my power was a net, and I threw it at him. “Stop Owen from leaving the building.” I wanted to say not to travel or not to run, but that would have taken too long. I should’ve just frozen him, but after what happened to Imani, I figured I wouldn’t be able to keep my return-to-sender up.
I sprinted towards the ramp. Another tingle of power jagged along my scalp—the witch who’d spelled Imani was drawing magic again, but Will was struggling to stand, his gun aiming for him. I couldn’t wait to see or help—if they couldn’t deal with this, what good would I be? Will’s gaze met mine, and he gave me a nod. As much as I hated leaving them—and God knew if Imani was even alive—Liv and a whole lot of others needed me to catch Owen. It was up to me to bring him down, and Will agreed.
Challenge accepted.
As I bolted across the ramp and onto the stage, Owen disappeared through the curtain. A gunshot rang out behind me, but I ignored it and kept going. The force of Owen’s magic trying to break free was like little cockroach claws scratching against my magic. Yuck.
My footfalls echoed as I jumped over the cables that snaked across the stage. I dodged a microphone stand and two chairs, then shoved the heavy curtain aside as I followed Owen’s thudding footsteps. He could run, but he couldn’t hide. My net linked us, and I could feel where he was.
It was darker back here, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. There were a few large crates, a closed roller door, and not much else. I hurried through a doorway into another corridor. I followed the invisible string linking me to Owen.
My breaths were loud as I sucked in air. Dizziness engulfed me. I stopped and slapped my palm on the wall to keep from falling. What the hell? Was I using too much magic by holding the net around him? Whatever it was, I’d just have to deal. As soon as I caught him, everything would be fine. I could sleep for a week if I wanted, but now wasn’t the time to succumb to the yawn that widened my jaw. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and set off.
A short way along the hall was a door that called to me—or, rather, the net around the person behind it did. I reached for the doorknob, but then two pulses of magic pinged my spine—Will and one of the bad guys. My heart skipped in fear. What was going on back there? A loud crack sounded. Another gunshot. Crap. No more time to waste.
Witch Oracle in Westerham Page 14
