Witchy Woman - Book 2 - The Necromancer

by Pamela M. Richter

  This time a woman rushed in. She was dressed in the same bright white as the room; a nurses uniform. “Estas despierto?”

  “Can you speak English?” Michelle croaked. Her throat was so dry it clicked when she swallowed.

  The nurse looked foreign, maybe Spanish, with long dark hair pulled back and tied at her neck, and beautiful dark brown skin and eyes.

  “Si, yes! I am your nurse, Dondi Marie. You can call me Dondi if you like.”

  “Ah, what happened? I don’t remember coming here, or anything.”

  Dondi frowned. “But you must remember?”

  Michelle shook her head. “Was it a car accident?”

  “Ah, well, sometimes the anesthetics, they make people forgetful. But you are fine. The operation was so successful. There was a nice harvest, considering the circumstances. And your handsome husband is so pleased.”

  “My husband?” This situation was getting odder by the moment, Michelle thought. She certainly wasn’t married. Unless she had some kind of brain operation that wiped out memories. Or maybe she actually was married sometime in the past, but got hurt and forgot a whole chunk of time, like you sometimes hear about with amnesia victims.

  “So’s your sister...very pleased, too,” Dondi said. “She’s in the room beside yours. Her operation was also a good success.”

  Nope, no brain trauma, Michelle decided. She definitely didn’t have a sister. That was one sure fact. However, she was wearing a wedding ring. It was large, ornately beautiful, and didn’t look familiar.

  “You said something about a harvest?” Michelle asked.

  “Yes. It was a little out of the ordinary, because your husband proclaimed grandly that he wanted as many as possible. He wanted all of them. Considering how you were hurt before, that is understandable, for the best results.”

  Michelle was getting an awful, frigid, sinking feeling. Her heart rate accelerated. She could hear her individual heart beeps on a monitor, going faster and faster. She felt like her insides had been hollowed out and was aware of a little uncomfortable pain in her abdomen. Pain killers were probably numbing most of the discomfort.

  She decided she would get more information if she acted like she knew what was going on. She made an effort to smile, “Ah, so you think my husband is handsome?”

  Dondi rolled her eyes. “Such a beautiful man. Grand and tall. So perfect for you.”

  Michelle was now thoroughly alarmed. She thought she knew who was behind the operation and probably what happened. Trying to put aside the devastation and loss for the moment, she formulated her next sentence carefully. “Most people think it’s his eyes that are fascinating.”

  “Oh my yes, si, so dark you almost can’t look away from them,” Dondi said. She took a glass from the night stand beside Michelle and poured water into it from a pitcher. She handed the glass to Michelle.

  Michelle’s boyfriend, Rod, had blue eyes. Omar had eyes so dark they looked like the shiny black obsidian, a jet black volcanic glass.

  Michelle tried to blink away tears, but the nurse, Dondi, saw them. “Are you in pain?”

  Michelle couldn’t speak. She took a sip of the water, tried not to cry, and nodded. It wasn’t physical pain. She didn’t even know if she wanted children yet, but she might in the future. Especially if she and Rod married. Then she knew she would love having babies. Now, on top of everything else Omar had stolen, he had taken away the slim chance she’d had of ever conceiving a child.

  The harvest that Dondi referred to, Michelle knew, was an operation to remove the eggs she had in her one remaining ovary. Omar wanted them. So he had robbed her of the chance to become a mother, to have babies with the man she chose for her mate and partner, whether she was married or not. He had taken not only children from Michelle, but grandchildren and any future family she might have had of her own.

  It was like murder. It was a loss so great she couldn’t even grasp the full future consequences.

  Michelle might have chosen not to have children, but that was her choice to make. It was not a choice to be stolen away.

  Omar had thought of everything. This was a foreign hospital. Everyone spoke Spanish. If she started screaming that she had been abducted and forced into a medical procedure she hadn’t agreed to, they would certainly contact her supposed husband, Omar. He’d probably say she was having delusions, or mentally incompetent, and maybe try to have her confined to a mental institution. Then he’d have total control of her. She’d simply disappear. Her life totally gone.

  Michelle blinked fast to keep tears from falling. She would have to go along with everything expected of her in this hospital for a while and keep up the charade that she was Omar’s wife, until she felt better. Then she would find a way to escape.

  Michelle put her hand on her stomach and mourned her loss.

  This theft was immoral; it was wicked and depraved. It was sinful.

  It was Omar defined—immoral, wicked, depraved, sinful.

  Chapter 10

  Heather thought they were lucky so far. They knew the city where Michelle had been taken, Guadalajara, Mexico.

  She’d been on the phone with Michelle’s boyfriend, Rod, several times over the last few hours. He could get them there. He was laughing when he said he might be fired, but Heather was pretty sure he wasn’t kidding. Using the Heroshi corporate jet on personal business for what might turn out to be a wild-goose-chase would be just cause for job termination, if anyone found out why he was really going from Japan to Hawaii, and then stopping off in California to pick up a passenger, and finally traveling into Mexico.

  The problem was, Omar and Michelle were way ahead of them. Ahead by about twelve hours. Heather knew that Michelle had been abducted after the two calls she had made to her on her cell phone last night. The first one was at eight p.m., and the next one, when Michelle said she was on her way home was at eight thirty.

  At a little past nine last night, Heather had tried to call Michelle and there was no answer. So she knew that if Michelle had been kidnapped, it was between eight-thirty and nine.

  If Omar had taken Michelle on the fastest route by jet, Hawaii to California would be about five hours. So they would have landed in California at about three in the morning. Then the trip by plane from California to Guadalajara would have taken another few hours. Allowing for time between flights and the travel time to different ground destinations, they had probably arrived in Guadalajara sometime early this morning.

  There was no way to make up those twelve hours, but Heather and Mike were packed and ready to leave. Heather was pleased and a little shocked that Mike wanted to come with her to try and find Michelle in Mexico.

  Mike said that his understudy weather reporter was itching to do a few weather reports on his own. Mike made some kind of an excuse to the TV station channel executives that he had a family emergency and needed a little time to take care of personal business.

  The stop-off in California would have been necessary just to refuel, but they were going to pick up Professor Vincent Middleton at a private jet fuelling port near LAX in California so he wouldn’t have to fly to Hawaii. It would also save some time.

  They were taking the cat, Lucifer. Rod had pretty much insisted. He said the cat could help them find Michelle. Since he was providing the free service of a Heroshi corporate jet, Heather wasn’t going to complain, although getting Lucifer into the cat-carrier that she found in Michelle’s apartment proved to be impossible. He screamed and cried, squirmed and fought her when she tried to get him inside the box. He ran and hid under the bed. She tried luring him with treats she put inside the box. That didn’t work. Heather decided she’d probably have to hold the cat herself, wherever they travelled, in the search for Michelle.

  The cat had more luggage than she did, Heather thought, as she and Mike carried two small bags for themselves that they had packed with clothes. Lucifer had his dishes, food, plastic potty box, a bag of sand and a few toys to keep him happy. They placed it all in Heather�
��s car. Mike drove because Heather was holding the cat and didn’t know if Lucifer would become testy if she had control of the wheel and needed to focus on driving.

  It took about a half-hour to get to Guy Thorner’s private air-field, where they would meet Rod. They had decided it would be less complicated to meet there than at the huge Hawaii International Airport. Luckily, Guy’s small air-field had a runway with the capacity to land even a large commercial plane.

  Heather and Mike waited in Guy’s office for Rod to arrive in the private jet. Guy had delightful old pictures of Hawaii on all the office walls, with palm trees and native Polynesians in canoes, and lots of pictures taken from the air of the beautiful islands of Oahu, Kaui, Molokai, and Maui.

  Guy told them stories about the old days, when Hawaii had been so rural he didn’t even have to make a flight plan as he bummed around the islands in the Hawaiian chain. He was just finishing one about running out of fuel on a flight to Maui in a small two-prop single engine plane, when he abruptly stopped and cocked his head to the side.

  “She’s here,” Guy announced.

  Heather didn’t hear a thing and looked out the big office window. She saw a tiny white spot moving toward them in the sky and wondered absently why planes and boats were always designated a She.

  “You can tell just by the sound?” Mike asked Guy.

  He nodded. “A sweet sound, that Lear engine makes. Let’s go out to the run-way. They’ll need to refuel. Take your bags.”

  They stopped in the doorway and watched a sleek white jet make the landing approach. It looked awfully small to Heather, who had expected to see a larger commercial type plane. The landing looked perfect and smooth, but she knew nothing about flying. Guy Thorner was smiling and nodding, with thumbs up, arms raised over his head and waving. So he approved of the pilot’s skill, she thought. Then she saw him pointing at a small boarded three sided shed, where the jet would take on fuel for the next leg of the journey to California.

  They walked across the tarmac and arrived just as the jet taxied over. The door opened upward on the plane’s passenger side and Rod climbed down the stairs. A small Japanese man followed him.

  Heather ran to Rod and gave him a hug. His red hair was tousled, like he’d been combing through it with his fingers. Rod had a big smile for her, but he appeared worried when Heather stepped back and really looked at him. He was half Japanese, but with his red hair, you’d never guess until you noticed that he seemed tan for a redhead. And he had those great slanted blue eyes and high cheek bones. In his case, the Caucasian part of his ancestry had been dominant, because Heather had seen pictures of his parents, and his mother was typically Japanese, diminutive and beautiful with straight black hair and dark eyes.

  Heather and Rod had been through a lot together the last time Omar tried to get control of Michelle. During that time, Rod had saved Heather’s life twice, once when she had been hit by lightning, and another time when she’d been in the hospital and one of Omar’s witches tried to smother her with a pillow.

  “Am I happy to see you!” Heather said as she hugged him. “Whoops, we almost squashed Lucifer. And here’s my friend, Mike, who’s coming with us.”

  As Rod and Mike shook hands, Lucifer struggled in Heather’s arms. He seemed agitated. Heather tried to keep hold of him firmly, but he finally squirmed and got away. He leaped out of her arms, landing on Rod’s shirt, clinging with his claws, sticking there like a tiny burr.

  Rod smiled down at the little fuzzy animal and shook his head. He picked up the cat, who immediately withdrew his claws, and perched Lucifer on his shoulder. “I think Luce connects me with Michelle. We were together for two weeks, on vacation. Just a couple of days ago.”

  He had trouble speaking because Lucifer had put his mouth right next to Rod’s ear and it sounded like he was actually babbling words. To Heather it sounded like, Mow-Mow-ow- ruh-Mow-Mow-ruh. There were a combination of meows and growls included; it was almost like the small cat was trying to talk.

  When Lucifer quieted down, Rod nodded at the Japanese man who was handling the refueling process with Guy. “Sammy’s our pilot. He knows why we’re traveling to Mexico, so we can talk freely.”

  “You won’t get in trouble at work?” Heather asked.

  Rod shrugged. “I’ll find out when I get back. Locating Michelle is more important. Especially if her disappearance has anything to do with Omar.”

  They loaded the luggage inside a compartment on the side of the plane.

  When Heather went up the ladder she saw the interior was designed for comfort, more like a lounge than a commercial passenger plane. It was small inside, but here were large comfy airplane seats arranged around a large table in the middle of the area, and long window seats on either side of the plane where people could sit side by side or even lie down.

  Rod went to a miniature refrigerator across from the bathroom in the back of the plane and brought out some soft drinks and an urn of coffee.

  Then they all strapped in. The take-off was fast and so was the climb upward. It was a little scary, but exhilarating too, as Heather clenched on the arms of her seat and felt her ears popping with the abrupt altitude change. The view out the windows through the clouds of the island of Oahu and the ocean was spectacular.

  After the plane leveled off, they unbuckled and sat around the table in the middle of the plane, eating sandwiches and talking for a while. Heather didn’t remember much of the flight. She was so sleepy she leaned against Mike. When she woke, they were in California and the plane was landing. Mike must have been holding her the entire five hours because his arms were around her, her head resting against his chest.

  She’d been cuddled and didn’t even get to enjoy it, Heather thought grumpily. It may have been uncomfortable for Mike because he was rolling his shoulders like they’d been in one position for too long.

  “You make a wonderful pillow,” Heather said, looking up at him. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, though. Did your arms go to sleep?”

  Mike smiled at her and shook his head. “No problem. I dozed off myself.”

  Heather noticed that Rod was lying on one of the side seats, blinking like he’d just awakened, too. Lucifer was curled up against his chest.

  Rod looked at Heather and said, “The next leg to Guadalajara is about 1,600 miles. It’ll take approximately three and a half hours. We’ll be landing at the Don Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla International Airport.”

  Rod stretched and then hurried outside with his long strides. The refueling was accomplished quickly by Rod and their pilot, Sammy.

  Heather was happy to see Professor Vincent Middleton walking over to the plane with a small suitcase through the window. He looked professorial and academic, wearing a tweed coat with leather elbow patches.

  The last time Heather had seen him he’d been wearing only his tidy-whities. Really, he’d had on wet baggy boxers. It was after Michelle had towed him several miles through the ocean to the island of Kauai, when Omar had dropped them into the sea from his helicopter. They had shed most of their clothing to make the swim to shore.

  Heather and Mike went down the ladder so they could stretch their legs for a few minutes before they took off again. Heather introduced Mike to the professor.

  When they were in the air again, heading to Mexico, Heather turned to the professor. They were all seated together around the table in the middle of the lounge. “You said you thought you knew why Omar took Michelle to Mexico?”

  Vincent nodded gravely. “Ultimately, we all know why Omar wants Michelle. He believes she has special powers. He also believes that with him as sire, and Michelle as mother, they would have a child with both of their special gifts combined. He wants a legacy of supernatural children. I checked the internet when you told me their destination. There’s a fertility clinic in Guadalajara.”

  Heather’s eyes went wide and she could feel the blood drain from her head with shock. “Oh, no. He’s going to take her eggs!”

  “I’m
afraid we may be too late,” Vincent said. “If they were twelve hours ahead of us, they might have already performed the operation.”

  “Did I tell you that Omar brought one of his witches with him?” Heather asked. “I think it’s Leilanie, from the description I got. So maybe she’s already been implanted with a fertilized egg. This is so gross!”

  Heather was also thinking that Michelle was potentially in grave danger. She didn’t want to say the words out loud, but she thought Rod and the Professor must be feeling her sense of dread, as well.

  Michelle had adamantly declined all of Omar’s attempts to persuade her to be a partner with him. He had wanted to use her as his own chief witch, or magical sorcerous, to rein with him over his vast wealth and property.

  Personally, Heather believed that Omar did have supernatural powers. But then, so did Michelle.

  At first Omar tried to weaken Michelle so she would be compelled to rely on him. He’d had her raped by his huge, ugly and scary minion, Samson. He’d tried to undermine her further by sabotaging her job; making lots of disasters for her to cope with at work. Heather guessed Michelle won his respect when his meddling shenanigans didn’t work.

  Omar then tried to woo her with expensive gifts; he’d taken her on rides in his personal helicopter, taken her to expensive restaurants. He’d given her the enormous diamond, and his own animal familiar, Lucifer. When all else failed, he tried to trick her by casting spells.

  Heather believed Omar would have married her and ditched all his other witches if that was her price. Now though, he had what he wanted. Her eggs. Now Michelle was a detriment. She posed a grave danger to him.

  Omar couldn’t expect to plop Michelle back into her life in Hawaii and do absolutely nothing about being abducted to Mexico and having her eggs stolen.

  Heather knew if Omar wasn’t a dangerous psychopath, at least he could be categorized a sociopath; without normal human emotions or empathy. He might just find a way to make Michelle disappear. Meaning he might kill her and dispose of her body. Heather wouldn’t put it past him.