She looked around the room, as if something within could save her.
“Cheryl,” I pressed, “I can’t help you unless you tell me the truth.”
That did it. She broke down into tears. “Alright, I’ll admit it,” she sobbed. “I found the paintings in storage at Martha’s gallery when I was visiting her one weekend. She had given me the keys to pick something up for her. The gallery was closed, no one was around, and the paintings were just there under some sheets. I figured if they weren’t out on the floor, they weren’t particularly special and no one would miss them. I needed the cash, so I took them and tried to sell them.”
I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, giving her a sympathetic expression, willing her to go on.
She wiped tears from her eyes. “When Blake didn’t want to buy them, I took them to a pawnshop in the city. The owner looked one of the paintings up, and it turns out it was stolen. Not just by me, but by Martha or whoever put them in the gallery. I turned tail and ran, leaving the paintings behind.”
“You little rat,” Martha muttered, shaking her head.
I gestured to the painting on the wall. “What about that one?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh no, that one I actually purchased from the gallery. I felt so bad about what I had done, I wanted to somehow contribute to Martha’s business. I saw the piece posted online, and had Martha’s employee send it right over. He said it was a new aquisition. I paid double the value. I was going to surprise Martha when she got back from her hike.”
She hung her head as fresh tears welled up. “But she never came back.”
Martha lifted her gaze from her friend to shake her head at me. “We would never have stolen paintings in the gallery. Everything is vetted beforehand.”
“Cheryl?” I said softly.
She lifted her head, blinking back more tears.
“Where do you think the stolen paintings came from? Why were they in the gallery to begin with?”
She frowned, as if she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Only three people have access to that back room in the gallery. Martha, Alex, and Jackson, their employee. Martha was many things, but most certainly not a criminal. It had to be either Alex or Jackson.”
I thought about it. I didn’t really know much about Jackson, except that he hoped to eventually open his own gallery. And Alex, he’d fallen on hard times. He definitely had a motive for moving stolen art.
The room had grown darker as we talked, and I realized full dark had fallen without me noticing. My mom would be wondering where I was.
I stood. “Thank you for your time, Cheryl.”
She blinked at me. “You mean you’re not going to arrest me for stealing those paintings from the gallery?”
Ah, not very detective-like of me. “You may have just given me useful information in solving Martha’s murder. We can forget about the paintings, for now.”
“Oh thank you,” she sobbed. “Please just figure out who did this to Martha.”
I noticed Spooky slinking toward the front door and shuffled to one side to block Cheryl’s view. “I can see myself out. Thanks for your time.”
She nodded appreciatively, and I retreated, doing my best to block Spooky from sight as I opened the door and let him run out, then hurried out after him.
The darkness outside felt alive, or maybe it was just my nerves. I looked down at Spooky as Martha popped up next to us, noticing a scrap of paper hanging from his mouth.
I knelt down and he released it into my hand, then I read it as I walked toward my car. It was an address I didn’t recognize, and I wasn’t sure why Spooky had deemed it important, but I could at least look it up. I folded the paper and put it in my back pocket for later.
I reached for my car door when I suddenly sensed a presence at my back.
“Addy!” Martha screamed.
A hand holding a bunched up piece of cloth clamped over my mouth, bringing sharp fumes to fill my airways.
I heard Spooky hissing, someone cursing, and then everything went black.
Chapter Seventeen
I woke on my back, staring up the trunks of tall trees. The stars glittered like tiny white sapphires overhead. My feet and hands were numb with cold.
“Wha—” I coughed.
A man’s face loomed over me, his skin deathly pale in the moonlight. I placed him somewhere in his early thirties, probably just a year or two younger than me. A mop of dark hair hung forward, shadowing his eyes. I couldn’t tell what color they were, something light. “Hello witch.”
My voice came out strained and raspy. “Hello necromancer. Where are we?”
One corner of his thin lips ticked up. “That doesn’t really matter. I have you here now, right where I want you. My little channeling witch. When I saw your familiar with you tonight, the glow of residual spirits gone, I knew you were the one I’ve been looking for.”
Luna had been right. He had been using the glowing animals to test me, to find out if I could really channel.
“What did you do with Spooky?” I growled. “Where’s Martha?”
The necromancer pushed up the sleeve of his black coat, revealing freshly bleeding scratches up and down his arm and wrist. “Your little kitty ran away before I could thrash him. And your ghost fled to save herself.”
He backed away as I managed to sit up. I had to pause halfway until my swimming vision stilled. “What do you want from me?”
He crouched beside me, putting us at eye level. “Something powerful lured me here. There is a dark magic in these woods, and I intend to capture it, using you as bait. I imagine it will come looking for you soon.”
I closed my eyes and pinched my brow, wincing against the throbbing in my head. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with. You won’t be able to control the dark magic.”
I felt his hot breath near my cheek. “We’ll see about that. Whatever this magical force is, it wants you, and that makes me believe it is something long dead, and I can control the dead.”
I took slow steady breaths, deciding what to do. He was close enough that I might be able to lash out and catch him off guard.
My moment of decision ended as the air shifted with his movement, then his footsteps retreated.
The throbbing in my head eased enough for me to open my eyes.
The necromancer was crouched near a black duffel bag I hadn’t noticed in the darkness. He withdrew an athame, a ritual dagger, holding it up so the sharp edge gleamed in the moonlight.
He approached me. “Hold still and I won’t have to cut you too deeply.”
I skittered away through the dead leaves like a crab, wondering if that line ever worked for him, because I was pretty sure he had done this before. He was way too confident to be a newbie at blood rituals.
If he cut me, he could amplify the magic in my blood and use it to lure all sorts of spirits, including the dark magic. It was a trick not just exclusive to necromancers, any witch or magical being could do it with enough know-how.
He caught up to me and reached down and snatched my wrist. The loose sleeve of my sweater slid down, bunching around my elbow. I tried to push away with my feet, but my legs felt like limp noodles.
He wrenched my arm toward him, poising the blade above my skin.
“Hiss!”
A dark shape dropped down from the tree above him, hissing and scratching. He stumbled back, letting go of my arm.
I watched on in horror as the necromancer flailed his blade, trying to grab Spooky off the back of his shoulder with his free hand.
Martha popped up beside me. “Run!” she rasped. “You need to run, Addy!”
I used the nearby tree trunk to pull myself to my feet, but I couldn’t run, not with Spooky in danger. I wasn’t sure if my legs would let me run at all.
I turned myself toward the necromancer as he finally managed to grab Spooky by the scruff of the neck and flung him toward the ground. Anger overcame my fear and I staggered toward him with my fists clenched.
I stopped walking as Spooky regained his senses and ran toward me. He was okay. I heaved a sigh of relief, then instantly tensed again. The trees behind the necromancer were filling with glowing green fog, lighting up the forest floor.
The necromancer was so focused on me, he didn’t seem to notice it right away. He took a step toward me, blade outstretched.
“You might want to look behind you,” I said.
A scratch on his pale cheek started to drip blood. “You won’t fool me that easily, witch.”
“Then use your senses, necromancer.” I nodded behind him.
The green glowing fog was nearly at his heels, and the magical force it brought with it was way more frightening than the necromancer could ever be. I needed to run, but I also needed him to not stab me in the back.
Spooky pressed against my thigh, granting me a bit of strength as the necromancer finally glanced back, then gasped.
He turned toward the dark magic, then gestured back toward me with his knife. “I’ve brought you the one you want, take her.”
Tendrils of the green fog started twining around his ankles like tiny snakes. He stepped back, but the fog filled the void, creeping up toward his knees. The dark magic might want me, but it seemed it wanted the necromancer too.
Run, a voice hissed through my mind.
I glanced down at Spooky, staring up at me, then back to the necromancer now stumbling back from the green fog.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Help me!”
“Let’s get out of here,” Martha whispered in my ear.
The necromancer tripped and fell to the ground, giving the fog the opportunity to swarm, if something like fog could swarm. It was the best word that came to mind. It fell upon his body, then snaked into his mouth and nostrils.
The magic was going to take him over like it had done to me when Ike chased me into the woods. I wasn’t about to hang around until the necromancer got back up.
I turned and ran, stumbling when my legs didn’t want to carry me. I wasn’t sure which direction my car was in, or how far away it was. Spooky trotted at my side.
Martha floated past me. “This way!”
Behind me, the necromancer screamed.
Finally the mental fog of whatever he’d used to knock me out lifted, and I managed to run faster, stumbling against trees in the dark as I went.
I fled through the dark woods, chasing after a ghost, with a necromancer and dark magic in the trees behind me.
At least no one could say my life wasn’t interesting.
Chapter Eighteen
My body was coated in sweat by the time I reached my car. The lights in Cheryl’s house were out. She must have never looked outside to make sure I was gone.
My hands trembled as I fumbled my car keys out of my pocket. I held the door open for Spooky to hop in ahead of me, then slid in after him, slamming my hand down on the automatic lock switch as soon as we were shut inside.
I glanced again at Cheryl’s cabin. My car engine might wake her and she might realize I’d been parked here all this time, but I’d rather deal with that than a necromancer possessed by dark magic.
I started the engine and hit the gas too hard, kicking up gravel with my tires, then sped down her driveway.
I nearly swerved into a tree as Martha popped up in my back seat. “Where are we going to go? You need to hide. Whoever that man was, I have little doubt he’ll come for you. And what was that green fog?”
I tightly gripped the steering wheel with both hands as I drove past dark trees on either side, waiting for the green glow to appear. “Too many questions right now Martha. I need to focus on escaping.”
“Well you can’t go home. What if he follows you?”
I shivered. She was right. Who knew how long the necromancer had been watching me? He might already know where my mom lived, and he most certainly knew where I lived. And so did the dark magic. No matter which one ended up in control, they could find me, and they would be more powerful now together.
“I have an idea,” she said when I didn’t answer. “I’m sure my house hasn’t been sold off yet. I have a spare key hidden outside. You can go there. No one would know where to find you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled out onto the highway. No one was following me. “Give me directions.”
She did, and I was glad for the distraction of driving to Wickenburg.
The miles passed by, and I began to feel a little safer. I followed Martha’s directions, exiting toward Wickenburg and heading into an upper class neighborhood.
I had escaped, for now. I could hide out at Martha’s house for a little while and call my mom and sisters to tell them what happened. From there, we could figure out what to do. Thinking of them, I grabbed my phone from the center console, glancing at it to see six missed calls. Alright, maybe I shouldn’t wait to call them.
I selected the most recent call from the log, Callie, and dialed her back.
“Thank goddess,” she said after answering on the first ring. “We’ve been worried sick, and neither of us know where Cheryl lives. Logan hasn’t answered any of Luna’s calls.”
I gripped the phone tightly so my trembling hand wouldn’t drop it, keeping my eyes on the road. “The necromancer found me. He knocked me out with some chemical, or maybe a spell, and dragged me into the woods. He wanted to use my blood to lure in the dark magic, but it came on its own and attacked him. I didn’t hang around to see what happened.”
“What!” I had to pull the phone a bit away from my ear at her shriek. “That’s it, we’re calling mom. We hadn’t told her you were missing yet just in case you were fine, but she’s going to start wondering why you haven’t made it to her house soon.”
“Callie,” I said patiently, somehow finding calm in my sister’s hysterics, “I can’t go to mom’s. If the dark magic has taken over the necromancer, it will be stronger than ever. I have to go somewhere it won’t find me.”
“But where?”
“I shouldn’t tell you,” I decided. “I can’t risk that any spirits might be watching you.” And I could only hope none were watching me now, though hopefully Martha would notice. No one could say what manner of spirits the necromancer already had under his control.
“Addy, let us help you.”
Martha told me the turn was coming up, so I slowed, searching for the street sign. “Oh you’re going to have to help me, and I want you to tell mom everything I just told you. Hopefully one of us can come up with a plan. All I know is I’m not going home until we deal with the necromancer.”
“Okay, I guess that’s smart, but you better answer your phone the next time I call. I’m going to call mom right now.”
At Martha’s instruction, I stopped in front of a large white Victorian. “Thanks Callie.”
“Don’t thank me yet, just be careful. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I hung up, then picked up Spooky and got out of the car, following Martha as she floated up the driveway.
The house looming over us in the darkness was huge. I could see why Blake was excited about inheriting it.
Martha floated over the grass toward an ornamental shrub. “There’s a fake rock at the base of this bush,” she explained. “There’s a key inside.”
I put Spooky down, then got on my knees to search, quickly finding the rock. I used it on the front door, then the three of us went inside and I locked it behind me.
I glanced around at the dark, still interior, not feeling as safe as I should have, then risked switching on a lamp. No one should be able to find me here, which was both good and bad. Good, because the necromancer probably couldn’t find me, but bad, because if he did, there would be no one to come to the rescue.
I walked across the wooden floor of Martha’s living room and slumped down onto the sofa. It felt stiff and unfamiliar, and not in the least bit comforting. I sent a qui
ck text to Callie to let her know I was safe for the night.
Spooky hopped up beside me, then nudged my hand with his nose.
I scratched his head. “You saved me tonight.”
He started purring. I wished he could speak to me more often, especially now, but I was still grateful he was with me.
Martha floated in front of us. “Try to get some rest. I’ll keep watch.”
I gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Martha. Thanks for not leaving me behind when the necromancer came. He could have banished you if he wanted.”
“Yes, I had a feeling that was the case, but I’m not one to run from a fight, and neither are you. You’ll figure out what to do about this necromancer fellow in the morning.” She winked at me.
I curled up on the couch, pulling down a throw blanket to put over me, then gathered Spooky up in my arms to keep him warm. I left the lamp on—I just couldn’t quite bear to be in full darkness—then closed my eyes.
Sleep came quickly, and I could only hope that it would still be just the three of us hanging out come morning.
Chapter Nineteen
The sound of keys in the lock and masculine voices outside woke me. For just a moment I couldn’t remember where I was, then my eyes flew wide.
Martha was crouched right in front of me. “Hurry Addy! Follow me!”
I tossed the blanket off of me, lifted the still sleeping Spooky, then bolted after Martha further into the house. We went through a large kitchen with the first rays of dawn streaming in through a bank of windows, then into an expansive office done up in shades of beige.
Martha stopped in front of an interior door. “In here. It’s a closet.”
I didn’t question her, I could hear the front door opening and the male voices grew louder as they stepped inside. I shut myself in the closet, then put Spooky down by my feet, hoping he knew good enough to stay quiet.
It sounded like both men were wearing loafers, clacking across the kitchen tiles. I held my breath, pressing my back against one wall, willing them to stay away from the office.
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