Witch Way Did He Go?

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Zero like lots of different music, Stevie. Except your Back Alley Boys. He does not like them. He say they sound like kitty-cat dipped in acid.”

  I almost chuckled, until I remembered I might never hear Win complain about my love of the Backstreet Boys again if we couldn’t find him.

  “It’s Backstreet Boys, and hello. I reiterate, Win loved Vivaldi’s spring concerto because it represents rebirth. He’s said so himself several times. Get it? Rebirth? Sounds like a huge clue to me. Also, do you recall seeing any other postcards with his favorite music on them left out of the mix like that, in an obvious place, rather than being put back where they belong the way the rest were? If that clue had teeth, it would have bitten us, Arkady.”

  “Bah!” Arkady growled a deep rumble of noise. “This is dangerous, the body jumping! Zero would not risk his soul like this. If he do this, he could lose his soul. His soul. He was always smart spy, Stevie. That is stupid, stupid move. Win is not stupid.”

  I gnawed on the inside of my cheek before I said, “But does the risk outweigh the reward, Arkady? Getting his life back? Being able to enjoy all the fruits of his labor, like this amazing house and all that money here on this plane? Eating caviar and that disgusting spreadable liver pate that looks like something Whiskey would eat? I think I know Win well enough to know he’d say no. The risk doesn’t outweigh the reward because the reward is huge!”

  I yelped the words as my excitement over having a lead grew, making Whiskey bark sharply at my feet.

  Belfry hopped off the table and landed on Whiskey’s back, latching on to his ear and soothing him. “It’s okay, boy. The crazy lady’s just cookin’ up some crazy. I won’t let her infect you. I got you.”

  Dropping my palm on the table, I balked. “I am not crazy, Bel. Think about it. He’s talked about it more than once. You know he has. Somehow, someway, Win found a way to send us a message, and that message was he’s body hunting. Or maybe…maybe he’s already found a body. I don’t know…I don’t know how he did it, but he’s done it before. You know he has.”

  Oh, my stomach was in some uproar, I’ll tell you what. If Win was doing this—if he was trying to possess a body, what body was he hopping into like he was skipping from puddle to puddle, and where? Where was the body? It could be anywhere in the world. How had he even found a body that matched all the strict guidelines he had—that matched what I’d once jokingly called his life code?

  The code where he wouldn’t possess a body that had any relatives or anyone who could identify him ever—the code where he’d never do it if it would cause anyone even a second’s pain.

  He had so many rules of ethics, he’d never do something haphazardly. I knew Win almost as well as I knew myself, and the body he took possession of would have to be a near perfect match to all the rules he’d made for taking over someone’s life.

  “Dah, malutka, he has done this before but he cannot sustain body snatching. You have seen this, too. It never last.”

  Hopping up from the table, I shook a finger at the ceiling. “But I’ve also seen Adam Westfield do it, Arkady, and he was able to sustain it for a long period of time—days, in fact. Who knows how long he could have sustained it if I hadn’t intervened?”

  “But bad man is warlock, malutka! Zero is different. He is dead human. Not the same,” Arkady protested with vehemence.

  I squinted at the ceiling, my feet like ice. “But he’s talked about it with you, hasn’t he, Arkady? Don’t bother to lie to me either because I know the two of you are thicker than thieves. He’s talked about the idea on more than one occasion, hasn’t he?”

  I listened to Arkady’s uneven breathing, and that was all it took for me to know what I said was true.

  “Yes. Yes, he has spoken of this with me, and I have begged him not to do it because I do not wish to lose my dear friend if he make mistake. I cannot think about him losing soul. I will not!”

  Oh, if he succeeded, I was going to kill him myself! “I knew it! And I have a feeling that’s what he’s doing right now. I feel it in my gut, guys. The problem is, he’s never possessed a body when we weren’t there to help him in case something happened. When I wasn’t there to help guide him back if necessary.”

  Fear streaked through my heart. Dear heaven, so many horrible things could happen. So many…

  “You can fix if he breaks his soul, malutka?”

  I almost laughed at Arkady’s description but the cold sweat breaking out on my forehead reminded me, this was anything but funny. “I can’t fix it, no. But I think I could still tell, even without my witch powers, just from the body’s language if the attempt was failing.”

  “Okay, so where, Stevie? Where is Win performing this invasion of the body snatchers?” Bel asked, worry riddling his voice, because he knew.

  Bel knew all the things that could go wrong with something as dangerous as possessing a body.

  With a racing heart, I clenched my fists. “I don’t know, but if I know Win, he’s left us clues. He’s planned. He’s prepared. He’s strategized.”

  “And he say nothing to Arkady,” my Russian spy muttered, the hurt in his voice ringing loud and clear. “He make plan to do crazy stunt and he do not share with his friend.”

  When I gazed up at the ceiling, it was with sympathy. Arkady loved Win. They’d become the greatest of friends in the afterlife, even though they’d been archenemies while they’d been alive.

  “You know Win, Arkady. He would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Never. I’m betting he didn’t tell you because the opportunity arose quite suddenly.”

  Arkady clucked his tongue, the clicks sharp in my ears. “I do not think so, malutka. He would not tell me because he knows I would try to talk him out of the crazy. Zero is smart man, but he know Arkady well. He could not accept his fate. I can. We disagree, as all great friends do from time to time. Still, it hurts my heart that he do not trust.”

  If Arkady was here, I’d give him a big hug to ease his sadness. “I don’t think it has to do with trust. He trusts you implicitly, Arkady. It has to do with not letting you talk some sense into him. Sometimes, when you don’t want to know the truth, you turn a blind eye, and the truth is, possession is very, very dangerous, and he knows it because I’ve told him as much. Which is also why he probably didn’t let me in on this little stunt, either. I’d have put the kibosh on it so fast, his British head would have spun.”

  “But we still do not know for certain it is possession,” he said stubbornly. “Until we know for certain, I will not go into, as you say, hissy. I will wait.”

  “Then what else could it be?” I asked as I rose to make some coffee. I needed caffeine if I was going to think straight. Caffeine and something in my stomach.

  A well-nourished spy is a strong spy, Stephania. Your mind and body must be equal in wit and strength. Win had said that a hundred times if he’d said it once. So I grabbed a Pop-Tart while I was at it.

  Now that we had a workable theory, I felt less terrified. I didn’t love running around in the dark with no particular path in front of me. But at least if we considered possession, we had a purpose, and we could branch out from there.

  Turning to face the room, I raised an eyebrow. “So, guys? Any other theories? Because if you got ’em, I’m open. Otherwise, we go with possession.”

  There was a lot of grumbling and shuffling around up there as well as in the kitchen by Bel, but no one openly disagreed with me.

  I took a bite of my chocolate-filled Pop-Tart and grabbed the carafe for the coffeepot. “Then possession it is for two-hundred, Alex!”

  “Malutka, your eyes, they falling.”

  Yes. Indeed. My eyes were falling. They were falling because I’d been at this for almost ten straight hours with nary anything but a potty break and some water, and I still didn’t know what to do next.

  I popped upright at the sound of Arkady’s voice and blinked hard, pinching my cheeks to keep my eyes open.

  “They’re not falli
ng. I’m just resting them,” I joked, my voice, even to my own ears, strained and weary.

  “You do this for too long. You must rest, my spicy sausage. A sleepy spy is a vulnerable spy.”

  Massaging the base of my neck, I sighed, cracking my knuckles before planting my finger back on the trackpad and began going through the death notifications within a five-hundred-mile radius one more time.

  “I’m not being a spy right now, Arkady. We’re not in imminent danger. I don’t have to be alert in that way. We’re just looking at all the deaths and life-threatening accidents that have occurred within the last couple of days.”

  Boy, were we. Have I mentioned in the course of just two days—forty-eight hours—there’d been a whole lot of visits from the grim reaper? Car accidents, murder, death by food poisoning, heart attacks, strangulation, drug overdose, and even one death by erotic asphyxiation were just a few of the things I’d encountered as I searched every possible death involving a candidate for a body in which my International Man of Mystery could land.

  And it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. I was pretty sure I knew what the minimal requirements Win had for possession were, but the finer details were a little fuzzy. We’d never really discussed them because I’d always poo-pooed the idea.

  Pushing the laptop away, I let my head rest in the cradle of my arms for a moment, a throbbing headache slicing its way across my temples.

  “We need more information, Arkady. I mean, what if he doesn’t mind coming back as a woman? Do we know if that was one of his rules?”

  I can’t tell you how disappointed I would be if he actually managed that. I’d miss his whiskey-dipped voice, his British accent even if he landed in another male body. But somehow, him calling me “dove” in a woman’s voice just wouldn’t be the same. Though I’d still keep right on secretly adoring the person he is on the inside. Nothing can ever change that.

  Maybe, if he returned as a woman, we could shop together, lunch, braid each other’s hair…

  I shook my head. Ugh. I was overthinking now.

  Arkady began to laugh, that deep chuckle that usually made me smile. “I think not, malutka. If our Zero is actually doing this thing you are thinking, the snatching of bodies, he will not come back as anything other than man. Trust Arkady.”

  My sigh was ragged and full of frustration. “Did he tell you that? Or are you just assuming it’s what he’d do? We can’t assume anything at this point. I mean, if he’s willing to inhabit a woman’s body, or even a child’s, for that matter, it changes the criteria of my search entirely.”

  “I will forgive your ears when they not listen to Arkady because you are tired. I will let Winterbottom explain to you himself why he would not come back as anything other than man. But if I know much, I know he would not come back any other way. You must trust me when I say I speak the truth.”

  I clenched a fist, tight with tension. “Okay, okay. And you’re right. I’m being persnickety because I’m tired and I have nothing in the way of leads but this one. This has to be what’s happened to him, Arkady. If I don’t cling to this theory—this idea he’s trying to inhabit a host body—I have nothing other than…”

  I couldn’t say it again. I wouldn’t say it again.

  “Other than your bad guy thoughts. Do not think on those, malutka. There is nothing to suggest bad man has Zero.”

  I made a face at the ceiling and rubbed my eyes. “If I listen to you, there’s nothing to suggest he’s possessing a body. Yet, you still have no other theories, either.”

  “Stevie? You need some sleep. You’re becoming surly, young lady, and my experience when you’re tired is you say things you don’t necessarily mean,” Bel reminded me.

  Always my compass, Bel knew me almost better than I knew myself. I hung my head in shame, using the heel of my hand to rub my grainy eyes. “You’re right, Bel. I’m sorry, Arkady. This is just so personal… It’s not like the rest of the cases we’ve solved. I’m emotionally invested and it’s too hard to compartmentalize. I know Win would have a cow if he could hear me, but I can’t seem to help it. Also, I can’t stop worrying about…”

  I was afraid to say it out loud. Much like the notion that Win had crossed or that Adam had him in his clutches, this almost worried me more.

  Bel buzzed to my shoulder and nudged my ear. “Stop worrying about what, Stevie.”

  “All the things that can go wrong in a possession. What if he’s successful and he doesn’t…” I gripped my cold mug of coffee until my knuckles turned white as tears stung my eyes.

  “Remember us?” Bel finished because he knew I couldn’t.

  “Remember us?” Arkady scoffed in disbelief. “Why would Zero forget? We are his friends. His family.”

  Sighing, I clenched my fists and stared out at the dark, choppy waters of the Sound, carefully weighing my words. But there was no way to sugarcoat this kind of information.

  “Sometimes, when a spirit possesses another body, signals become crossed and the memories from the spirit’s old life get lost in the new host. From what I understand, it can be very frustrating and, in some cases, has led to violent reactions. It’s like having something on the tip of your tongue every blessed second of every blessed day, like the wisp of a memory or whatever, and not being able to fully articulate it because it eludes you over and over. I understand it can be maddening.”

  “Um, yeah,” Bel snorted. “Hey, Stevie B? Remember that guy way back in the dark ages before we were excommunicated from the coven barbecues? Shoot, what was his name…”

  I shivered hard, rubbing my arms. “Gibbon. Gibbon Martell. And holy leaping lizards, do I remember Gibbon. He’s a perfectly good example of why not to possess a body.”

  “Stevie’s right. Check this out, Arkady. We’re all at the Fourth of July coven barbecue, right? Gibbon, somehow—we all still don’t know how he pulled it off—came back from the dead and hopped into Judas Hall’s body. We didn’t know who was in Judas’s skin until he attacked the man who was smooching on his wife…er, Gibbon’s wife. She’d moved on a year or so after he’d kicked the bucket and found herself a new love. Gibbon, while in Judas’s body, beat the poor guy to within an inch of his life. I had potato salad in my fur for days afterward. When Baba Yaga asked why Gibbon/Judas beat the guy up, despite knowing he’d end up in the slammer, he said he didn’t know but there was a good reason, and it was right on the tip of his tongue.”

  Arkady didn’t say a word, but he did let out a whistling gasp.

  “So not only did they expel his spirit from Judas’s body and shun his soul for attempted murder, and for possessing a body by means of witchcraft for personal gain, he was sent off to oblivion for beating up a guy over a woman he doesn’t even remember. How do ya like them apples?”

  “So you say Zero might forget us? Forever?” He squeaked the word, his normally husky voice climbing a couple of octaves.

  The mere thought had me close to tears, and I would not cry. There was no time for tears. “It’s just one of the possibilities, Arkady. One of several. There could be glitches in the new host body if the spirit isn’t a good fit. He could struggle to sustain the host body. He could forget how to walk or talk or all sorts of things.”

  “But he has done before, dah? He has been in other body two times now,” Arkady reminded me.

  I let my head hang low, stretching out my neck. “He has, but he’s never been able to stay in the body…”

  “But hold on, that could be for various reasons, Boss. Could be it was the wrong body and he knew it, so he aborted the mission.”

  While that was true, I didn’t know if it was Win’s truth. “You’re right. That could be.”

  My voice must have lost its conviction and gone soft as I listed all the things that could go wrong, because Arkady instantly soothed me.

  “You must not think worst. But you must sleep, malutka. You are exhausted.” He clapped his hands, a sharp, jolting action that made me jump. “Now, off to bed with you, li
ttle rosebud. Tomorrow is new day. Tomorrow we find Zero.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll get some rest,” I conceded, even though I was sure I wouldn’t sleep a wink. “But before I do, did you ask around again? Double check with everyone up there to see if they’ve seen him?”

  “Of course I check, my petunia, and while you take nap, I ask again. But I insist right now you rest. Please. We need you strong like bull, dah?”

  He was right. I’d be no good to anyone if I didn’t rest my whirring mind. Win wouldn’t like it if he found out I hadn’t banked as many hours of sleep as I could before things went sideways. He always said resting during the calm was prudent for the storm.

  I’m not sure why I had a gut feeling everything was going to turn to chaos. It’s not like we’d heard anything in the last twenty-four hours. I just knew it would.

  Calling Whiskey, I nodded as I made my way out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, plodding upward with weary steps. My heart was heavy, but my resolve was still intact.

  If Win hadn’t crossed over, he was out there. Somewhere. But where? What if I hadn’t checked a big enough radius for reported deaths? What if the body he’d deemed worthy was in Sri Lanka? Or worse, what if the death of the host hadn’t been reported at all? The host body could be jacked up in some dark alley or left to rot in a dirty Dumpster.

  Stop, Stephania. I could almost hear Win in my ear reprimanding me for all the “what ifs” I was calling to mind. I had to stop creating scenarios that didn’t yet exist and stick to the facts.

  The only thing I knew for certain was this: I wouldn’t give up until I had an answer for his disappearance. Nothing would stop me from looking for him—even if it took a lifetime.

  Trudging into my bedroom, I felt the potential for defeat gnaw at my gut. Fear and defeat. I had to narrow this search somehow. There were too many variables.