Witch Hunt

by Layla Nash

  “I love him, Palmer. Let me go and I’ll tell him not to kill you.” I didn’t think I could stop Miles from killing him, but I’d at least shout it at him as the wolf ran by.

  Palmer sank to sit on his heels in front of me. “Deirdre, you’re above him. More than him. Whatever kind of base attraction you might have had to that monster, it will go away. It’s not love.”

  “It’s more than love,” I said. And I knew it with every beat of my heart. Why hadn’t I said that to Miles? Why had I questioned him and myself and our feelings? “Palmer, if you ever for a second had a kind feeling toward me, please—let me go. I won’t tell anyone what happened. It’ll just go away. No one has to get hurt.”

  “No one will be hurt,” he said. His lips compressed as he watched me, like I’d disappointed him. “At least, no witches will be hurt.”

  I clenched my hands into fists and wished I could touch just a hint of magic so I could wipe that look off his face. “What are you going to do?”

  “First, I’m going to sever whatever connection the ErlKing placed on you,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Then I’m going to bind us together and make sure you’re... cooperative. Maybe eventually I’ll be sure of your loyalty, Deirdre, but it will take a while. You said some rather hurtful things and your behavior in the florist in front of your aunt and the others... Appalling. Once you’re appropriately docile, we—you and I together—will take over the coven from your aunt and lead them to power in this city. The animals will have to go.”

  Swallowing grew difficult as I watched him prepare a ritual knife and a paste of herbs at the side table. “Palmer, wait. Just wait.”

  “Why?” he asked. He didn’t even sound curious. He was just making conversation as he fiddled with herbs and paged through the massive spell book in front of him.

  “So Miles can hunt you down and kill you” was not going to do me much good as a response, even if it made me feel better. I softened my voice and let a waver creep in among my words, hoping the traitorous thought would distract the witch. “I’m scared.”

  And inside I sent a message with every beat of my heart: Miles, please. Find me. You have to find me. Help me.

  Palmer’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me, half-turning away from the book. “You? Scared? What kind of game are you playing, Deirdre? You’ve never admitted being frightened in your life.”

  “It’s been…a very turbulent few months,” I said. I lowered my eyes and took a shaky breath. Holy Mother help me. I just needed to buy some time, let Palmer think he didn’t have to cast a love spell or whatever it was he intended. “And then the shifters kidnapped me and made me heal Miles, and they kept me in their pack house for three or four days. He said no one even looked for me, Palmer. No one went to the house or tried to call me. What was I supposed to think?”

  “Of course I looked for you,” he said. He put his hands on his hips and frowned. “I went to your house every day, I tried to find your car. I asked your aunt to submit a missing person’s report, but she wouldn’t. Said your life was your life and you were probably working a lot or busy in the garden.”

  Maybe I owed my aunt an apology for all the mean thoughts I’d had. I shivered and looked down more, slumping in the chair, and hiccupped as I struggled to breathe—all to buy more time, to search for a thread of magic that could be used to call Miles or Smith or Estelle or anyone.

  Smith, I call you. I call you, Horned God, ErlKing, Leader of the Wild Hunt. Find me. Find me and your debt is paid.

  Static crackled in the air and I sucked in a breath and hope at the same time. Palmer looked around, then shook his head and went back to his work. “Just relax, Deirdre. This will all be over in a few minutes.”

  My mouth went dry and I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t decide if seeing the end coming would be worse than watching Palmer work the magic that would steal my free will. My heart beat a steady rhythm in my ears. I used it as a metronome and found a new mantra. A new center, a new way forward. My old mantra, the old ice queen, was the past. I needed to look to the future to save myself.

  And Miles was part of that future.

  I am Deirdre, daughter of Maureen, beloved of Miles Evershaw, alpha of the SilverLine pack. I am a soulmate, a friend, an ally. I am descended from a long line of powerful witches. I have the love and guidance of my mother and her mother. I have the love and support of Miles and his people. I am the heart of magic. I am strong. I am capable. I will survive this.

  Tears burned my eyes and my chest ached. Miles’s face flooded my mind and I held on tight to the memory of his smile and the surprised rumble of his laughter and the soft way he’d cradled my face when I was uncertain. The way he’d fed Cricket tender pieces of steak even after the cat used him as a scratching post. The way his eyes flashed gold when we squared off and he didn’t feel like taking it easy on me.

  Palmer kept doing things across the room, his mumbling interrupted by the soft whisper of pages turning, but it didn’t matter. Miles mattered. Our connection, whether from Smith’s geas or whatever fate brought us together, mattered.

  Miles, please. Come find me. I need you. I’m afraid. I don’t want to be here alone.

  He had to hear me. He had to. I held on to the arms of the chair and kept twisting, grinding my teeth against the pain, and hoped that I could somehow sever the rope before Palmer’s spell was ready to cast.

  Chapter 64

  Miles

  Evershaw lost his mind when they didn’t find Deirdre at her house or the florist. The pack barely got him back to the packhouse before he completely spun apart. He destroyed everything he got his hands on in one wild fit after another, and then—just as his pack got ready to tackle him and lock him in a cage—a bolt of pure clarity hit him from out of the blue. Her voice. Deirdre’s husky voice rang between his ears, asking for help.

  The wolf howled inside him, loud and desperate enough that the pack howled in response automatically, and he turned in a circle, searching for a direction. Where was she?

  Todd, bloody and staggering from the fight, held up his hands. “We can find her, man. Just…take it easy. Smith called.”

  “Why?” Evershaw never stopped searching. She was out there somewhere, afraid and alone. She needed him. Wanted him. She was his and he was hers and nothing—nothing—would keep him from her. “I need a truck. Now.”

  “She called him, too.” Todd flinched at whatever he saw in Evershaw’s face. “Well, she ordered him. Summoned his ass like a servant. He might know where she is. But he said the geas or whatever should connect you. If you quiet your mind, you should be able to feel her. That’s what he said.”

  Evershaw didn’t think there would ever be quiet in his head again, not if he couldn’t find Deirdre. He stared at Todd, breathing heavily, and cursed every twist of fate that brought the girl into his life. She was everything, his entire world—and she would break him. If she was hurt or... or... worse... He clutched his head, roaring, and the rest of his pack closed in.

  Only Todd was brave enough to stride forward and punch him in the face.

  Evershaw staggered back a step, the wolf enraged at the challenge, but he couldn’t do more than blink before Todd grabbed his shoulders and snarled right back. “Get your shit together. She needs you. And you need her. You need her. Right now she needs you more. So figure it the fuck out.”

  He decked his cousin and Todd went down in a heap, but the pain of his broken nose cleared Evershaw’s head. He growled and snarled, but he pushed the wolf back so he could regain control. When he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, he felt her. Deirdre. Somewhere... west. He made sure it was her, waiting until his heartbeat synced with hers, and tried to send a message back.

  I’m coming. Hold on.

  Evershaw pushed upright, then leaned to haul Todd to his feet. “Get up, you big baby. Let’s go. She’s west. Tell Smith to hurry the fuck up. I don’t know how long it’ll last.”

  Todd grumbled and adjusted his nose as it healed,
stalking after him as he gave orders to the rest of the pack. Evershaw ignored all of them and focused only on Deidre. She was there. She was still there. He didn’t know how she was in his head, what kind of fucking magic it was, but he held on as tight as he could. He would find her and save her, and whoever took her would fucking die.

  Chapter 65

  Deirdre

  Palmer’s magic smelled twisted and burned as it coiled around me in oily ropes, and it reached deep into my chest. Palmer gritted his teeth and squinted as he watched me. “This connection... it’s not magical. It’s... different.”

  “It’s the ErlKing’s magic,” I said, panting as I struggled against the magic and the ropes on my wrists. “He’ll find you. He’s tracking you right now. You have to run, Palmer, if you want to live.”

  “Bullshit,” he said. Palmer bared his teeth as he fed more magic into the spell and it hooked deep in my chest with a sudden fire. “This is something else entirely. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry out from the pain. It was like being split open from inside, all my muscles tearing as my heart raced to keep up. “Then don’t do shit to it, okay? Just leave it alone. Use…use whatever love spell you meant to use, and—”

  “Love spell?” He barked a laugh, retreating a few steps, and the intense pressure of the magic clawing at my chest eased. Palmer went back to the book and flipped the pages. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not high school kids, screwing around with stupid love charms. This is a bond—a true bond. You’ll be linked to me forever. If I die, you die.”

  Holy Mother protect me. I shook my head and pulled harder at the ropes. “Palmer, don’t do this. You don’t need to. I’ll cooperate. I promise. Don’t do something that can’t be undone.”

  “Just relax,” he said. His smile grew creepy and intrusive, and I choked down a scream.

  Miles, hurry up. Hurry up.

  Palmer squinted more as he looked at me, studying whatever it was that stood in the way of his horrible plan, and rubbed his hands together. “I could never trust you, Deirdre.”

  “I give you my word,” I said. Breathing grew more difficult with every passing second. “Palmer, please. You would murder me. Doing that kind of magic—there’s no coming back from that. My life would be over.”

  “Yes, but our life would begin.” He smiled, still perfectly pleasant and mostly normal. “It’ll all be better in a few minutes.”

  I dragged at my magic, desperate for just a touch so I could burn through the ropes, but the binding he’d already placed on me bounced back and knocked into me until my vision went blurry.

  “None of that, dear.” Palmer chuckled, shaking his head. “Now. Let’s see about stripping away this geas and pesky binding.”

  The magic wrenched at my ribs and began the excruciating splitting once more. I couldn’t hold in the scream another second and let it out until my throat burned. Maybe someone would hear me. Maybe Miles would hear and find me faster.

  Chapter 66

  Miles

  She screamed. It echoed in his head and sent the wolf into a panic. Evershaw pounded his fists on the dashboard in the SUV and roared, making Todd swerve and almost hit a fire hydrant. “Faster. Find her.”

  “We’re almost to the kid’s house,” Todd snapped. “I’m going as fast as I—”

  Evershaw couldn’t wait. They were in the neighborhood; he could smell the kid’s house, he knew she had to be there. She had to be. He threw open the door and leapt out of the speeding SUV, shifting in midair so he landed on his wolf’s paws. Screeching tires and shouts faded behind him as he raced through the neatly-trimmed lawns and backyards, leaping over trampolines and deck furniture and a few swimming pools, on his way to that son of a bitch’s cookie-cutter house.

  He skidded across the driveway and snarled as he leapt over a porch swing that still retained a whisper of her scent, barreling through the front window without stopping. Glass exploded everywhere and cut his muzzle, but Evershaw didn’t care. She had to be there.

  He searched the house but found nothing, until finally clawing open the basement door to leap into the darkness.

  The acrid scent of smoke and old herbs assailed his nose, making him sneeze, but when Evershaw combed every inch of the damp space, he found no hint of her. The kid had some kind of cage in one of the back rooms, already outfitted with a neatly-made cot, clothes, and an actual toilet. The wolf snarled as they surveyed the place. The kid planned to bring her back there to keep in his basement, but she wasn’t there. He tormented her somewhere else.

  Evershaw howled, sending his rage into the universe, and raced back upstairs so he could search for hints of where Palmer might have taken Deirdre. He stilled his mind as he jumped back to the front lawn and scanned the surroundings. Where had the bastard gone?

  He blinked and then Smith was there on the lawn next to him, dark and dangerous with the shadow of horns on his head, and the ErlKing’s eyes flashed silver-green as he stared around the quiet suburban street. “Any sign of the one who took her?”

  “It had to be him,” Evershaw said after he shifted back to human. “From her—I get the sense it’s him. He’s got her somewhere in a basement. He’s cut her off from her magic and she can’t get away, and he’s going to do something to her. Something terrible. She’s afraid. I have to find her.”

  “She’s not at her house or her job,” Todd said. “Do you know where she could be? We can’t get a scent anywhere.”

  Smith rose up to his formidable height, closed his eyes, and held his hands over his head. A terrible green glow ignited around him and reminded Evershaw of the various battles they’d waged against BadCreek. All the scary shit started when Smith turned green.

  Evershaw relished it. Between Smith’s glow and Evershaw’s teeth, that little shit Palmer would pay the price.

  Smith’s eyes had turned to pupil-less pools of mercury when he opened them and faced west once more. “There.”

  “Go,” Evershaw commanded, and his pack spread out. “The kid is mine.”

  Chapter 67

  Deirdre

  The ropes around my wrists had loosened just slightly after all that wrenching and desperate wiggling, enough that I started to slide my right hand out from under the ropes. Palmer took his time studying the spell book, apparently not concerned about being caught, and as I looked around, I wondered where the hell we were. It wasn’t my basement, that was for sure, and it wasn’t anywhere I recognized. The odds of anyone finding me seemed to slip away more and more.

  Until magic pinged and echoed in my thoughts and I tensed. Palmer didn’t react, continuing with his muttering and waving as his spell built. It pulled at the deeply-rooted connection in my chest, bringing the burning ache to a sharp stabbing, though the waves of magic from far away brought hope with them. Smith. It had to be the ErlKing.

  Which meant they were on their way. I just had to resist and endure. I lurched upright and ran at Palmer, taking him by surprise and knocking him back as I head-butted him. I swung the chair around to crash into him, knocking him down, and desperately starting knocking aside all the herbs and candles I could reach. The book fell to the floor, and even though it hurt to destroy knowledge like that, I scuffed my foot over the pages and kicked it away.

  Palmer growled in frustration and grabbed the chair, wrenching me back, and I fell hard on my shoulder, still bound to the damn thing. The wood creaked and cracked but the ropes stayed tied. Palmer stood over me, his eyes wild and his hair askew, and practically breathed fire. “Deirdre, do not ever—”

  I swung my legs, trying out a move I’d seen in the movies, and tried to knock him down by buckling his knees. He staggered but didn’t go down. One of the candles, tipped over but still burning, rolled and rested against the book. I sucked in a breath, ready to warn him, but Palmer lunged and blocked everything else from view as the flames licked at the rough parchment. Smoke filled the air and made it difficult
to breathe or think; he cursed as he stood over me.

  “I don’t need the book,” he snapped. “Stupid, Deirdre. So very stupid.”

  I tried to roll, so maybe the chair would protect my back, but Palmer planted a boot in my shoulder and kicked me back to my side. The broken wood gouged into my side, making me grit my teeth, and I arched my back to get more room. I could almost free my hand. So close. So very close. I just needed a bit more time. “Fuck off, Palmer. You’re nothing. You can’t do shit to control me; don’t think for a second that I won’t spend every day of my life figuring out a way to get free of you. It won’t matter. None of your spells will hold me. Just wait. See the truth in my eyes.”

  And I glared at him, willing him to see the world of fucking pain he was about to enter if he cast that spell.

  He saw it, I knew he did, because he hesitated. His hands stilled and his head tilted as he studied me, then a cruel smile curled his lips. “Good thing this is one of your spells, Deirdre.”

  I shrieked and flailed, but the pull against my chest increased and something began to tear as he chanted, lifting his hands. Smoke plumed around us, darkening the already dim room, and Palmer’s voice rose along with the dark coils of black smoke.

  My right hand ripped free of the ropes and I clawed at my left hand, arching my back, just as I rolled and the chair splintered and I could see the door and a sliver of light. Freedom. So close. So close but still so out of reach.

  I screamed, in my head and my heart and into the dark void swirling around me, “Miles!”

  Palmer chuckled and something ripped free in my chest as the magic recoiled.