“Does that happen to you all the time?” he asked, open curiosity in his voice.
“No,” she said, clearing her throat. “I went fifteen years without using my powers at all. Now in the past week I’ve had to do so much with them and I’m out of practice. I can’t control them like I used to. And for some reason, you upset me even more than the people I’m trying to stop.”
“Ditto.”
She moved away and sat facing him. “If I let you go, will you promise to not try to kill me?”
“No.”
She took a ragged breath. “Will you promise not to try again tonight?”
“Yes.”
She moved her hand and the twine binding him snapped apart. He shook it off and rubbed his wrists, staring at her speculatively. “Do you still need help catching the other witches?”
“I’m not a witch.”
He raised an eyebrow and glanced around the room.
“Having these powers doesn’t make you a witch. It’s what you do with them that defines you.”
“How long you been rehearsing that?”
“All week.”
“Do you believe it yet?”
“No,” she whispered.
“So, you need help?”
“Obviously I do. But I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“We have a strange relationship,” he noted ruefully.
“I should warn you, the people who have been going crazy, seeing witches, like the one who attacked the mannequin in your window, seem to have been infected by some kind of magic.”
“Okay, what’s the deal?” he asked.
“It seems like some sort of magic that’s acting like a toxin, altering brain chemistry and heightening people’s fear and paranoia.”
“You think I’ve been infected?”
“No. At least, you weren’t when you came in here. But I was infected earlier today and it’s possible that when I touched you, you were too.”
“How will I know?” he asked, his face growing pale.
“Fear, phobia, paranoia, a desire to kill all witches.”
He stared at her for a moment before clearing his throat. “Okay, I’ll ask again. How will I know if I’ve been infected?”
She had the insane urge to laugh. She bit her lip and shook her head. “If you get crazier than you are now.”
“Oh good, something to look forward to.”
“Tell me about it,” she said.
“So how do you fix it?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.” She closed her eyes. “Have you ever heard any rumors about medical professionals that link them to witchcraft?”
He frowned. “Like a witch doctor?”
“Very funny. No, like a doctor who also happens to be a witch.”
He was silent for a long minute and she opened her eyes. “What is it?”
“Once, a couple of years ago, I ended up in the emergency room. Car accident. The other driver was more messed up than I was and the same doctor saw us both.”
“And?”
“It took my broken arm twelve weeks to heal and when I left that hospital I felt completely drained. I was in bad shape for weeks. When I finally got out of the house I saw the other driver in the grocery store. The man had had two broken legs and a crushed arm. And yet there he was, four weeks after the accident and he was perfectly fine, not a scratch on him. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I heard he moved out of the area shortly after.”
“And you think the doctor took energy from you and gave it to him?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Anthony admitted. “It always seemed strange to me, and after seeing what you can do with energy, it would explain a whole lot.”
“Do you know the name of the doctor?” she asked eagerly. “It’s important.”
“No, but I can find out,” he said.
She hesitated.
“Let me do this. I need to help take these people down.”
“What you need to do is go back to that motel and keep your head down until it’s safe.”
“And what if it’s never safe?” he asked. “What if you get killed? Or what if you take this coven down only to have another one spring up in its place? Look, I’m not the kind to just sit and wait and do nothing.”
“If something happens, if they catch you, I might not make it in time to save you again.”
“I’m willing to live with that risk.”
She wasn’t sure that she was.
She stood up and then helped him to his feet. He left a couple of minutes later and she locked the door behind him, then moved over to the bed and lay down. Her mind raced.
She tried calling George, but it went to voice mail. She ground her teeth in frustration. It was twenty-four hours until the Halloween parade and she needed to find out how to purge the toxins from her system before then.
Everything was unraveling and she was afraid there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Samantha woke in the dark before dawn with a start. Something was terribly wrong. Shadows oozed down the walls. She sat up, her heart thundering in her chest. It took her a moment to realize they were real and headed right for her.
She threw back the covers and jumped to her feet. Standing in the middle of the bed she could see that shadows were swarming across the floor as well. And she could feel witches present in the building, nearby. The shadows reminded her of those that had bound her in the back room of the Witchery. There was a good chance that either Randy or the witch that had been injured was involved. The way they moved was too similar for it to be a coincidence.
She spun, looking for an exit, but the slithering shadows were everywhere. The ones nearest the bed began to slither onto it. Like snakes.
She brought her hands together just as she had done to form the kitten and shaped a ball of energy into a mongoose. It leaped from her hands onto the bed, attacking the shadow snake nearest it. She formed another and another. She cursed while she was doing it. There had to be a better, faster way to banish the shadow creatures, but she didn’t know what it was.
I need to remember more magic.
Soon battles were raging all over the room. With the shadows’ attention diverted, she was able to leap off the bed and move to the door. As she neared it she felt the energy just on the other side. She braced herself and then flung the door open. She reached out and grabbed the two cloaked figures in the hall and yanked them into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. They spun to face her and she let loose all the energy that had been building for hours and that she’d been struggling to control. The wave swept both of them off their feet and they landed hard on their backs.
“Who sent you?” she demanded as she pressed a knee to the throat of the one nearest to her.
“We’re going to kill you,” the other one hissed, raising a hand.
“Not if I kill you first.”
Four of her mongooses leaped on the witch’s face. The witch screamed and Samantha touched her leg, sending a blast of energy to fry her vocal cords.
She returned her attention to the witch beneath her knee. She ripped off the hood and even in the dark she recognized Calvin. “Who sent you?” she asked, putting more pressure on his throat until his eyes bulged in panic. He clawed at her, struggling for air. She let up for a moment.
“No one,” he gasped. “We… we wanted you dead—what you did to us.”
“Tell me the name of the high priestess!”
“She’ll eat you alive. She has plans for you,” he said.
“Her name?” Samantha said, setting his hair on fire.
“Stop! I’ll tell you. Her name is—”
The fire whooshed and suddenly engulfed his entire head, killing him instantly. Samantha snuffed it, stunned. She turned and saw the witch she had severely injured. She had dissipated the mongoose and a snarl twisted her face. Her hand was raised and Samantha realized she had killed Calvin so he wouldn’t talk.
The witch raised her hands and made a
choking motion and Samantha felt her own air supply cut off. She clawed at her throat, even though she knew there was nothing there to grab.
Calm down! Think! she commanded herself. The remaining shadows began to slither toward her. She had to stop the witch choking her, but she could feel the panic taking over. She needed to think, she needed to…
Her thoughts flew to the bullets that were sitting on the desk. She swept her hand and the bullets flew through the air and embedded themselves deep in the witch’s chest.
The woman’s eyes opened wide in surprise, blood began to trickle from the corner of her mouth, and then she collapsed. The shadows disappeared from the room and the invisible hands released their hold on Samantha’s throat.
She collapsed on her side, gagging, and closed her eyes. I killed her with magic. Even though I used bullets, I still killed her with magic. Dear God, what have I done?
23
It took Samantha an hour to clean herself up. Afterward she called her captain and told him what had happened. He wanted to send in officers, but she talked him out of it.
“If I was who I’m pretending to be, the police would never find the bodies,” she said. “I can’t have anyone bag and tag these bodies and take them out of here.”
“Then what do you want to do?”
“I’m going to hide them for now. I’ll preserve them and we can figure out what you want to do about them later,” she said.
“There’s nothing natural about any of this,” he said in a strangled voice.
“My world. Welcome to it,” she said with a bone-weary sigh. “Have you heard anything from Ed or George?”
“They’ve been working hard. It turns out the latest victim had a sister who’s also missing.”
“The final sacrifice.”
“That’s what we’re thinking. It’s the most we’ve had to go on, so I’ve got everyone working overtime on it.”
“I’ve left a couple of messages for George. I need to talk to him in a medical capacity. I’ve figured out how they’re causing the rioting. It’s magic that’s infecting people like a toxin, making them delusional and provoking them.” She hesitated and then continued. “Based on something Ed said to me yesterday, I think he might have been infected.”
Captain Roberts swore. “Can you undo whatever this is?”
“Not without talking to George.”
“I’ll see that he calls you back as soon as possible,” he said.
“Thanks.”
She hung up and stared at her phone. The battery was all but dead. It had had a full charge when she went to bed, but all the magic had drained it. It was why many witches had trouble with technology. With a sigh she plugged it in to charge. She had to do a couple of things and she just hoped she didn’t miss George’s call.
First she stacked the bodies in the bathtub and put a light spell on them to keep them from starting to decay.
Just as she was finishing that task, the phone rang. She picked up, relieved to find that it was George.
“Hi. Thanks for calling.”
“Captain said it was urgent. I don’t have anything new yet.”
“That’s okay. I had another question for you,” Samantha said, sitting down on the bed. “I need to discuss how viruses can be transmitted by touch.”
“Okay. Well, most diseases, such as the flu, are actually transmitted by droplets. A person coughs or sneezes and droplets end up in someone else’s nose or mouth or breathed into their lungs. These droplets can travel up to six feet to infect someone else. By the same token, common items such as doorknobs that have been touched by someone who has sneezed may then be touched by a healthy person who then rubs their eyes or nose or eats without washing their hands, and the disease is transmitted.”
“What about ways other than droplets?” she asked.
“Other transmission of disease through physical contact is usually incurred through touching of bodily fluids during kissing, sex, sharing of utensils, or touching weeping blisters from diseases such as shingles.”
“And what about cures for viruses or toxins?”
“Do you think you’ve come across some kind of outbreak?” he asked sharply.
She hesitated, not sure what Ed or Captain Roberts had shared with George about the nature of witches and magic. “I just need to know. I can’t explain at the moment,” she said at last.
“For something like a toxin, or poison, you would need an antidote, something that would render it inert. Toxins are something you can absorb right through your skin. The skin is permeable and will absorb what’s placed on it. Some kinds of poisons and even drugs are meant to be absorbed through the skin.”
“Can confusion, hallucination, erratic behavior be attributed to poisons or toxins?”
“Yes, all of those. Those kinds of responses are often seen in hospitals in patients who are allergic to certain medications.”
“How do antidotes generally work?” Samantha asked.
“They’re used to counteract. Something that is particularly acidic, for example, can be neutralized by a base. Charcoal when swallowed can absorb several types of poisons. For many types of poisonous bites, like those from snakes or spiders, antidotes have been created by injecting small amounts of the poison into lab animals. Their bodies create antibodies to fight the poison and we use those antibodies to create antidotes.”
“Thank you, George.”
“Is there anything I should know?” he asked.
“Not right now.”
“If you need anything else, call,” he said, sounding worried.
“I will,” she promised, then hung up.
She put the phone down and stared at the battery-charge light for a minute while she thought. Her five-year-old self had taught her that energy could be shaped into whatever form the magic user wished. Instead of a snake or a cat someone had found a way to shape energy into a toxin. Physical contact imparted a bit of the charged energy to the next person, who was then infected, and so on. It was brilliant. Instead of putting a spell or curse on a single person, you could use a single person to spread that curse to dozens. But there had to also be a cure. Almost all magic could be reversed. And there was no way the coven would have risked putting something so dangerous out into the world if they didn’t also have a means of controlling it if that became necessary.
But the mechanics of it were beyond her. It would take a strong, experienced witch to even hope to pull something like that off. A working knowledge of biochemistry would also be a huge plus so they could know exactly what parts of the brain they were targeting. It was so elaborate it seemed insane. But if you needed a way to cause hysteria in mass quantities of people, it was brilliant.
She stood up. She would find no answers sitting there. Finished with what she needed to do to secure the bodies, she locked the room and left her phone charging.
The lobby was filled with people and she had to shove to make her way outside. The Halloween parade wasn’t until evening, but the streets were already filling. She gaped in amazement as she walked toward Essex Street.
Throngs of people lined the streets, many carrying signs either condemning witches or condemning the killing of witches. Every couple of blocks a fight broke out among the protestors.
Samantha’s whole body was tingling, overloaded by the passion and energy of the spectators. She had been present when there were massive crowds before, but this was different. The energies were focused instead of scattered.
Her own paranoia was building to impossible levels and no amount of prayer or cleansing spells seemed to help. She was toxic, just another victim of the fever that Karen had unwittingly spread to so many.
Police officers, some on horseback, struggled to keep the crowd under control, but some of them were also falling victim to the toxin. As she hurried toward the Museum of the Occult, she saw one officer trying to arrest an old woman and yelling, “Witch!” She wasn’t one, but given the way she looked and dressed, she certainly wasn’t discoura
ging this interpretation.
Samantha hurried past. It was taking all of her concentration to move through the crowd unnoticed. She wanted to check on the museum, make sure no one, especially Anthony, was there. Sooner or later she was going to need to remove some of the artifacts he had in the building. They were just too dangerous to be left there. Then she needed to check on Anthony, make sure he was okay and knew to keep away from the crowd.
She was near the museum when she felt a wave of energy rolling toward her. She half turned as it crashed against her. She flailed wildly to keep her balance and then staggered backward as an undertow sought to pull her in the direction the wave had come from.
She spun to face it, gritting her jaw in determination, but another wave knocked her down and the resultant undertow dragged her six feet across the pavement, scraping her hands and arms.
She was being summoned, but unlike her summoning of Autumn and the others, there was nothing subtle about it. And whoever was doing it had more power than Samantha could ever dream of. There was no way she could fight it, and to try would only delay the inevitable and risk exposing her to the crowd, which was already staring in fascination.
She staggered to her feet, feeling their eyes upon her. She pointed with a shaky hand to the fake witch the policeman was trying to arrest. The woman had dressed in a pointy hat and was wearing her long, straggly gray hair free for a reason. She wanted the attention. Samantha shouted, “The witch did this to me!”
And just like that all attention swiveled away from Samantha and to the old woman and the policeman. Samantha began to run in the direction the wave was pulling her, guilt nearly crushing her. There was a very real chance that she had just given those infected with the toxin a target.
Now that she was heading in the direction she was meant to go, the energy didn’t crash against her violently, but rather flowed around her, gently pulling her in the right way. She expected it to take her to the old house where they had performed the latest ritual. She was surprised when instead of leading her to the end of Essex Street, the energy led her to the right.
She ran past her hotel, and as she came to the harbor, she tried to slow to a walk. The moment she did, though, the energy smashed against her, and she staggered to keep her feet. She began to run again. It wasn’t enough for the summoner that she arrive at the desired location. Time was clearly an issue.
The Thirteenth Sacrifice Page 24
