by Raven Snow
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I woke with such a start, it was a wonder I didn’t disturb Wyatt. Lying motionless for a moment more to make sure I hadn’t, my brain was racing against time.
Once she did the spell to make Whale her familiar, he wouldn’t be my cat anymore. And there was no way I was losing my cat to Nancy’s golden girl.
I leaped from the bed and put on my clothes as quietly as possible. On my way out the door, I kissed Wyatt softly on the forehead and grabbed his service weapon from the bedside table. I wasn’t much of a gun girl, but I wasn’t going unarmed to fight a witch cop. I could probably fire it if called upon.
Alive with nervous energy, I drove to the station, my mind clicking and connecting the scents of bad coffee and Kosher’s body odor. It was unfortunate that I even knew what either of those smelled like off the top of my head. I needed a new hobby.
I parked far away from the station and snuck up under the cover of darkness, just like I had with Oliver that night at Melanie’s. I hoped for better results this time, though.
I’d have to secure her and get her to confess. Magic didn’t leave a trail, and there was no way my insurance adjuster was going to take my prophetic dream— especially since it was my first— as proof. No one would.
Wondering if I had Oliver’s magic to thank for the vision, I crept up close to the station, trying to peer in the opaque windows.
“Harper, what are you doing here?”
I flinched so hard, they probably should’ve hauled me off to the doctor’s to check for internal tearing. When I saw it was just Oliver, standing in the same white suit he’d worn the night I asked him to watch the Funky Wheel, I breathed again.
“Running out of suits?” I asked. “I’m on a case— not just here for a booty call, like you.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not here for a booty call. You should go home.”
When Oliver pulled his hands out of his pockets to run them through his hair, the internal material popped out, revealing red velvet. And on one side, a piece just about the size of the one I’d found in my trashed office was missing.
I backed up so far I hit the building. Oliver didn’t come after me; he just stood there, staring at me and looking stricken. I opened my mouth to tell him to save his guilt for someone who wanted it, but it wouldn’t come out.
“You trashed the Funky Wheel. You’re working with Alicia.”
“No! It’s not like that.”
A searing pain started in my head, moving its way down my spine. I gasped and lost control of my knees, crumpling in on myself. The last thing I knew before darkness took over my vision was a sharp hissing sound near my ear.
Chapter Eleven
When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Oliver's stupid face. I was flat on my back, arms tied behind me in a most uncomfortable manner, and he was standing a couple feet away, arguing with someone just out of my sight.
"Hurting her wasn't part of the deal. You said no one was going to get hurt."
I rolled my eyes, though it made me a little nauseous. I never would've pegged my best friend as that naive, but here was the unswayable evidence. He actually sounded surprised that the bad guy hadn't kept her word. For a second, it almost made me feel bad for him— almost.
There was a scuffling and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. "Be quiet, you sniveling, little man. She'll live through the night if you keep your mouth shut."
That would've been comforting if I'd been like Oliver and had believed a word that came out of Alicia's mouth. Part of me was very proud that my original instincts about the woman had been right, but I knew that I'd merely disliked her out of jealousy. Still, I didn't have to tell anyone that.
A small, coarse tongue licked my cheek. That would've been worrisome if I hadn't recognized Whale's orange fur in my peripheral vision. Hope blossomed in my chest. Familiars were supposed to boost magical abilities. Maybe my cat was the answer to getting out of here.
Unfortunately, they probably couldn't boost what you didn't have, and no spells were coming to mind that would help with this situation. I struggled against my binds instead, which just got me a bad case of rope burn.
Oliver's head appeared in my line of sight again as he knelt down over me. There was a freshly-forming bruise on his cheek, and I wondered if that had been what I'd heard before.
His eyes watered. "I'm so sorry, Harper. I just wanted the stupid doll back. I didn't think that any of this would happen."
I turned away from him as much as possible. "You destroyed my home for a silly superstition. You can keep your sorry."
"She was going to do it, anyway— looking for that cat. I figured if I did it, there'd be less damage."
"And the second time? I'll be lucky if I can open again after what you did."
He paled. "I was only responsible for the first break-in; I swear. You can't believe I'd destroy the Wheel like that."
"Until a few minutes ago, I wouldn't have believed any of this."
After a yelp, Oliver's face disappeared, replaced by Alicia’s. But she didn't look like the cool, effortlessly beautiful Alicia I had met. Her face was so twisted, her features were almost unrecognizable. And when she smiled, there was something in it that reminded me of Grandma— but that was wrong. Grandma had never scared me this much.
She drew a wickedly long blade from her person, running it gently over my cheek. If the blade had been dull, I'd have been fine, but it was sharp as hell and sliced through my skin like butter. I refused to wince as the blood flowed.
Putting a glass up to my cheek to collect some of the blood, she said, "I've been looking for this creature for a very long time." She seemed to be talking to herself more than me, and she shuddered. "So long."
"Why not find a familiar of your own? Why steal mine?"
I flinched as she brought the knife up, because I saw my death in her eyes. After a moment, Alicia seemed to force herself to put it away. She still needed me.
"Don't you speak of my familiar."
So, she'd had one. My mind went over the possibilities as I watched her spread my blood in a circle on the floor. It had probably died. I wasn't sure if familiar's had lifespans like regular cats, but if this witch had suffered a psychotic break from losing her, it'd probably been sudden. Foul play, maybe?
Not that any of that was going to help me get out of here alive with my cat in tow.
"Oliver," I hissed under my breath.
A moment later, his head appeared over mine again, looking worried. "Your cheek..."
"Forget the flesh wound. Untie me."
He shook his head. "She'll kill both of us. Just let her take the cat, and then we can go back to our lives like nothing ever happened."
I wanted to smack him upside the head, but my hands were tied. "This is dark magic— which means dark consequences. Ten to one says she'll need a sacrifice. Notice anybody else around to fit that bill?"
He gulped.
"Can either of you two do anything but talk?" Alicia asked, coming closer to us.
Oliver and I shared a moment of togetherness, and said in unison, "No."
Her hair was frizzing up, which really highlighted the crazy look in her eyes. Unlike my usual foes, I didn't think she was actually crazy— just driven to the edge by her need for a familiar. Apart from the power thing, they made pretty great companions— when they weren't shedding all over everything. Maybe she was missing hers.
"Taking my familiar as your own won't fill the hole of losing yours, you know," I said, taking a shot in the dark. Surprisingly, I was getting pretty good at this blind shooting thing.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and then she threw back her head and laughed. "Clever. Perhaps that's what that crazy, old witch sees in you."
My lips twitched in annoyance. Grandma may be old and crazy, but she was my old and crazy Grandmother. I decided right then that I was going to see this woman behind bars. And once I had her behind bars, I was going to gloat like no one had ever gloated befo
re. Maybe I'd wave my cat around at her, provided I could pick him up.
"How do you know my grandmother?"
I fidgeted with the rope, almost crying when I felt a little bit of it come loose. But I couldn't let her know, so I stared intently at Alicia's face, hoping to seem like I was entirely focused on her answer, like I was engrossed. Really, I figured they'd run into each other at some point. Gran was—probably— ancient. She'd had a lot of "friends" I knew nothing about.
She frowned. "Everyone knows your grandmother."
Without warning, she lunged for my cat before I could warn him— if such a feat were possible. Exhibiting a dexterity and quickness that one wouldn't expect in a cat that size, Whale danced out of the line of fire, hissing at Alicia. When she tried to go for him again, he scratched her on the cheek. Hard. I realized it was in the exact spot she'd cut me.
Pulling back, Alicia's eyes watered. I wouldn't have taken her for the type that couldn't take a little pain, and after a second, I was proven right.
"I don't understand," she mumbled. "My familiar would've never hurt me. Why would you do this?"
"Because he's my familiar," I gritted out, still fumbling with the binding. "Even after the spell, he'll still be my cat."
The look she gave me was anything but friendly, reminding me of Nancy. They really would've been great together— daughter and mother-in-law. Too bad Alicia turned out to be a witch with little concern for the law. At least, she didn't pay it any mind when she wanted something. Uneasily, I thought that we had that in common.
"You can't force a bond on any living creature," Oliver said. "Love is beyond even our capabilities."
Alicia's eyes glowed, and with a flick of her hand, Oliver went soaring into a nearby desk. He crumpled upon impact, moaning once and then going quiet. The movement had been so like one of my grandmother's that I forgot to be worried about my friend for a second and let panic take over.
She leaned in close, and I tried to struggle away from her, the rope still not broken. My breathing came out in short pants like a dog, and I could feel my heart going crazy in my chest. Her smile was unpleasant and did nothing to stop the terrified sweat that had broken out all over my body.
"You're afraid now," she said. "Good."
The door opened, and both of our heads snapped toward it. For one glorious moment, I thought it was Wyatt standing there, my eyes watering with tears of relief. No matter the odds, Wyatt would never let this witch who reminded me of my grandma hurt me.
But when my eyes cleared, I realized the figure was far too porky to be Wyatt. Then, I groaned, my head falling back. Frankly, I wasn't so sure I wouldn't have rather been sacrificed than be saved by the man standing in the doorway.
He drew his gun, pointed it at Alicia, and stepped into the light. It was that awful Officer Kosher.
"Knew there was something not right about you, Hutchinson. Hands up," he said.
"No, you didn't." I swore a blue streak at him. "You're just a sexist jerk."
He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe you'd prefer I let her kill you. It'd save me a lot of gray hairs."
"Yes, please."
Alicia straightened, and I couldn't see her face. "I would've let you live had you not tried to interfere."
Another flick of her finger, and Kosher went flying. But this time, she kept flicking and flicking. His body smashed into the wall over and over, sickening crunching sounds echoing in the room. His mouth was open in a soundless scream, and a single trickle of blood fell from it, rolling down his chin.
Despite my hatred of the man, tears rolled down my face, and my wiggling increased. The rope finally slipped free, and I stumbled to my feet. Not even thinking first— another hobby of mine— I slammed my body into Alicia's, taking her to the floor and breaking her concentration.
While I struggled with the tastefully-muscled woman, Kosher slid slowly on the ground. His eye fluttered beneath his lids, body twitching randomly. I wasn't sure how badly he was hurt, but I knew I couldn't expect help from his corner.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Alicia shoved me off and got to her feet. There was a small bruise forming on her chin, and she looked murderous. Her breathing was labored, because she was visibly seething.
"That," she said, "was a mistake."
Her fist crashed into my nose, and blood spurted forth, covering both of us. The blow would've taken a lesser woman down, but I hadn't been a popular girl on the playground, and frankly, she hit like the little kids in Miami— which was still one hundred times harder and with more gusto than the little kids in any other city.
Like I’d been taught over and over again, I kicked her directly in the crotch, realizing a moment too late that she wasn’t a man, and I’d just lost my turn for no good reason. Smiling, she cold cocked me in the jaw, and I saw lights sparkle on my eyelids.
Holding onto consciousness with a fingertip, I stumbled over to the circle she was building out of my blood. I kicked over candles and scraped away at the circle before she jumped me, taking me to the ground in a copy of my earlier move.
My head knocked against the solid floor, and the black dots blocked out my vision for a minute. When they disappeared, Alicia was on top me, her lip curled into a sneer.
“I was going to let you live up to the very end.”
I dodged her next blow narrowly. “Gee, thanks.”
Pushing her off me, I rolled away, trying to draw upon that summer I spent mud-wrestling for the crowd’s entertainment. I’d been almost undefeated, except for that mountain of a woman, Heidi. But there was no mud in sight, and we were actually trying to hurt each other here.
Like it sensed I needed a minute to regroup, an orange blur flew past me, attaching itself to Alicia’s face. She screamed and tried to pull the hissing mass off, running into the desk and chairs along the way.
A shot rang out, and I turned to the source. Kosher was still collapsed on the ground, but now, he was awake, holding the still metaphorically smoking gun. Blood was pouring out of him at different spots, but he looked as triumphant as I’d ever seen him.
Behind me, Alicia gasped and dropped, clasping her leg, which now had a big hole in it. My cat dislodged himself and sat down near me, licking his paws and looking very pleased with himself.
Kosher’s gun pointed toward me next, and he frowned. “You saved my life.”
I crossed my arms. “Let’s keep that between us.”
“I don’t like it.”
“And I didn’t like doing it.”
A snarl interrupted us, and we both glanced over to see Alicia struggling to her feet. She curled her hand into a fist, and the gun in Kosher’s hand crumpled like paper as he watched on, slack-jawed. We shared a moment of pure “oh crap” before I started in on Alicia again.
“That leg’s going to need medical attention,” I said, circling her. “Witches can’t heal themselves.”
Her laugh was a little garbled. “Is that what your precious grandmother told you?” Then, her face was serious again. “Witches can do anything. The only limits are the ones the weak set for themselves.”
Suddenly, I was really glad I had the grandmother I did. She was crazy, old, and definitely moody, but at least she had limits. I’d take that over the cat thief any day.
The loudspeaker chose that moment to crackle to life, and I recognized Wyatt’s voice on the air. “Hutchinson, give yourself up. I have officers surrounding your position. This doesn’t have to end badly.”
She cocked her head at me. “You called the police.”
“No,” I said, wishing I’d been that smart. “Someone probably heard all the commotion you’ve been making.”
Was Wyatt out there? I didn’t even dare to hope he’d save me from this. For one, I didn’t like to be in need of saving, and for another, I’d have killed him as soon as we were in the clear for putting himself in danger like that. Where would our kid be if both of us got taken out in one swoop?
Alicia moved her hands in a complex and
delicate pattern. Across the room, the malformed gun floated, and then, right before my very eyes, started to untwist and become a proper gun again.
When she noticed me staring, she smiled and said, “No limits.”
Chapter Twelve
She pressed the gun to my temple before I knew what she was up to. I stifled a groan as she pushed me toward the door, keeping her body behind me. I liked to think I was worth a little more than just a hostage or a human shield. This whole business was going to be humiliating.
As we walked outside, she said to the crowd of cops, “Anyone even blinks funny, and I’ll shoot her.” To me, she whispered, “Don’t try anything unless you want your boyfriend to have to clean your brains off the sidewalk. Assuming you have any.”
Harsh. But I barely felt the petty sting of those words, because my eyes were searching for Wyatt. Though there were lots of cops there and the night was still dark, I found him almost immediately. He was one of the few not shielding himself with his car, his gun rock steady and aimed at Alicia’s head.
When he caught my eye, I mouth the word “hi” at him, knowing it was lame but not knowing what else to say. Maybe “I love you” would’ve been better, but no matter how hard I tried, those words twisted on my tongue— a recurring theme during the past few months.
His smile was tired, but there was understanding there. Wyatt always knew what I meant to say, even when I wasn’t sure. I doubted he’d be as understanding about me sneaking out of his bed into danger when I was out of the woods.
If I ever got out of the woods. Which I hoped I would. I didn’t want to die in this particular wood.
While Alicia was walking me to her car, keeping out of range of everyone else, I mouthed my plan to Wyatt. He turned whiter the longer I talked, shaking his head vehemently. I couldn’t nod at him with risking spilling my brains on the sidewalk, but I made my gaze very forceful.
She drew me in front of the driver's side door as she opened it, and I knew the moment had come. Trying to keep my heart from abandoning ship, I took a deep breath. When that breath was done, I rammed my elbow into Alicia's stomach, relishing in hearing the air leave her in a short, shocked burst.
