by Laken Cane
They searched with no luck until nearly three o’clock.
Abby paused to unscrew the lid of her still warm coffee when she spied movement to her left. “Toad,” she exclaimed, as a large yellow cat walked out of a tangle of undergrowth.
Eli looked up from a few yards away, wiped his forehead, then walked toward her. “That’s a cat, Abby.”
She snorted. “I know it’s a cat. But his name is Toad, and he belongs to my friend Becky Bates. He’s come to let me know she’s at my house.”
He nodded at Sadie, asleep under a tree, and then Elmer, nosing something in the middle of the dirt road. “They didn’t alert you.”
“Becky’s the only person in the world they can’t sense—neither her nor Toad. And when they see her, they don’t bark. They know her.”
“Becky’s a witch, too?” he asked.
“No…”
“What?”
“I’m not sure exactly what Becky is. She reads people—their auras, anyway—and I have a feeling she’s a lot of things. Empath, for sure.” She shrugged. “She’s my friend.”
“You trust her?”
“Completely.”
He nodded. “I’ll drive you back up the lane.”
“No, no. Continue your search. I can walk.”
“Eli,” Remy called. “A little help?”
“Go on,” Abby said. “Please call me if you find anything.”
“I will.”
She could feel him watching her until she turned the bend in the road and was glad she’d worn a pair of faded jeans that hugged her bottom. She knew she looked good walking away.
She grinned all the way up the hollow.
Sadie and Elmer trotted along beside her. Toad the cat had disappeared, and she was sure that when she arrived home, he’d be sitting on the porch licking a paw.
He was as strange as Becky Bates.
Becky’s visits were infrequent but very important.
She only came when she had news of the most evil person Abby had ever known.
Acadia Desrochers.
Becky floated through dark social circles Abby was not part of. Demon circles. Circles so mysterious and private they couldn’t be found even on the Internet.
When there was chatter about the demon witch, Becky heard it, and she hastened to inform Abby.
Her cheerfulness dampened by the thought, Abby jogged home.
Toad was indeed waiting on the porch railing, licking his paw. She grinned at him, took off her mask, then walked inside.
Becky Bates was in the kitchen, whistling a quiet, tuneless song.
Abby sniffed appreciatively, then lifted the lid from one of the pots boiling on the stove. “Hi, Becky.”
Becky said nothing. She wasn’t much of talker and only ever spoke when she deemed her words important. As far as Abby knew, small talk offended the empath.
“You have news of the demon witch?” Abby asked.
“You must hide, Abby. Acadia has been sighted.”
Abby grasped the back of a chair. “Where? When?”
“Two days ago in Boca Raton.”
“Boca Raton?” Abby wrinkled her nose. “That’s a thousand miles from here.” She paused. “Do you think it was real this time?”
In all the years since Acadia and Henry had disappeared, there had been many rumors and a few sightings, but they’d never been proven.
“Yes.”
Becky had never been sure before.
“What makes you think so?” Fear made her hurt pretty much everywhere. Her stomach tossed, her heart thudded, her head throbbed. For a few moments, fear totally ruled her.
Becky handed her a glass of ice water and she took it with a murmur of thanks. As she drank, she got herself under control.
Her mother and Jewel were safe. No one knew about the pocket, and even if they had, they would have not have known how to get inside it.
“I’m not hiding just because of another rumored sighting of the bitch.” Abby set her glass down almost hard enough to break it. “I have things to do. If she appears, I’ll be ready.”
“Abby, if she comes for you, you will die and your mother will be lost.”
“Shit.” Abby rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I know.”
Becky knew more than anyone when it came to Abby’s story, but even she didn’t know how to get to the pocket.
“Sit down. Have some dinner.”
Abby gave a sharp laugh. “I can’t eat now.” But she sat down anyway.
“You must go into the pocket to hide.” Becky set a plate before Abby, then sat down across from her and took her hands. “Abby, please. I am afraid.”
Abby stared at Becky, shocked. Becky was never afraid. She didn’t know how to be. The girl had been born with something missing in her brain. She had no fear.
There were other things missing. Things like a soul, maybe.
Abby’s cell rang. She glanced at the display before silencing the phone and pushing it back into her pocket. She’d gotten a few such calls over the last couple of days and had ignored them all. Calls from clients.
Sometimes clients were beating down her door, overwhelming her with requests, and sometimes she had maybe two in a month.
She hadn’t wanted to deal with any of them after the disaster with Brooke Dunn, but knew she’d have to start listening to voicemails and returning calls soon.
“The dogs will warn me if the demon gets within ten miles of this place,” Abby said. “I’ll have enough time to get to the pocket.”
“Your familiars.”
“Yes.”
“They can take a lot of damage for you, but not the kind of damage Acadia Desrochers is capable of unleashing.”
“Becky, I know.”
“Go into the pocket.”
“No. Not yet.”
Becky sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her eyes, a bright, beautiful blue, turned completely white.
“Shit,” Abby cried, and sent up her walls so hard and fast they nearly exited through the top of her head. At least, that was what it felt like.
But she wasn’t fast enough.
Becky’s eyes returned to normal. She pursed her lips and lifted an eyebrow. “Because of the alpha. Because of a Dean. You would risk your life and your mother’s life because you don’t want to be away from the alpha.”
“That’s not true!”
Becky’s eyebrow went up another notch.
“It’s not totally true,” Abby muttered. “I hate when you do that, Becky.”
“I taught you to keep up your walls.”
Abby slapped the table. “I’ll go into the pocket when—and if—the dogs tell me I should do so.”
Becky sighed. “No you won’t. You and your familiars will fight. How is Basilia?”
“She misses you.”
“I wish I could see her. Take me to see her, Abby.”
Abby picked up her spoon and took a bite of hot vegetable soup. “You know I can’t.” She changed the subject. She didn’t like to deny Becky, but no one could know the location of the pocket. Not even Becky. “You’re not only worried about a demon witch sighting that may or may not be real.”
Becky didn’t avert her gaze, but she would never have needed to. She had no tells. No traits that would have let people know she was nervous. She didn’t twitch. There were no telltale gleams of half-truths or outright lies in her eyes.
“Not only,” she said.
“Tell me, Beck.”
“This town is about to be flung into darkness and chaos. I would rather you not be part of that.”
“The missing talisman.”
“Yes.”
“Can you see—”
“I can see only the blackness of death,” Becky said. “And the redness of pain. Whose…” She shook her head, then shrugged. “I do not know.”
Abby shivered as ice slid down her spine. “We’ll find the talisman before that happens.”
“It is already happening.” Frost once again co
vered Becky’s eyes, but only for a second. “Between the demon witch and the…” She swallowed, then continued. “And the lost talisman, you are going to be crushed, Abby. I need you to hide. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“She won’t be hurt,” Eli said. “I will protect her.”
Abby jumped up, her hand to her throat. “Eli! I didn’t hear you come in.”
Becky got to her feet, and for maybe the first time in her life, a spark of confusion lit her cold blue eyes. She looked at Abby. “Neither did I.”
Eli crossed his arms and his light eyes lingered on her damaged face. When she didn’t turn away or shake her hair over her face right away, he smiled.
“Eli, this is Becky Bates. Becky, Eli Dean.”
Becky and Eli stared at each other for a long moment, but neither of them offered to shake hands.
Finally, Eli gave her a nod and turned to Abby. “Two things I want to know. What is the pocket, and who is this demon I’m going to need to kill?”
Chapter Thirteen
That was the exact moment Abby fell in love with the alpha.
She wouldn’t tell him that, but there it was.
Becky didn’t need to be told. Abby knew the girl could see it in her face, her distorted, awful face.
When Abby looked at her, she saw something she’d never before seen in Becky’s eyes. Pity.
She clenched her hands into fists. “What is wrong with you?”
“Love,” Becky murmured. “Love is what’s wrong with everybody.”
Abby blanched, sure that Becky was going to share with Eli whatever it was she’d found in Abby’s head, but that wasn’t the case.
“I’m in love.” Becky shrugged. “Would you ever have believed that would happen?”
Abby couldn’t even speak for a second, her surprise was so fierce. “No. No, I would not have.” And she wasn’t sure she believed it. No matter what Becky said.
Becky Bates did not…love.
She attached, sort of, as she’d attached to Abby, but she didn’t fall in love.
“Who?” Abby asked.
Becky shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” She walked away, down the hall and toward the guest bedroom, where she’d spend a night or two or three. Abby would wake up one morning and the girl would be gone without a word of goodbye.
Maybe. Becky was different. Falling in love…
Who knew what she’d do.
Eli motioned Abby to the kitchen table, and after she sat down, he leaned against the wall. “The pocket. What is it?”
“It’s not anything, really,” Abby said, but at the look on his face, she continued. “It’s a secure place I can hide. No one can find me there. If I ever need to escape a really dreadful enemy, the pocket is where I’ll go.” She tugged her hair over her profile.
He studied her for a moment. “The demon?”
“The one who cursed me. Acadia Desrochers. We like to believe that she and my father are lost—that they disappeared into the ether, but we don’t know. If she returns, she will come for me.”
“I’ll move you into Featherclaw. You’ll be safe there.”
“No. I can’t leave One Hex Hollow.”
“Why not?”
“The animals, for one. This is my home. I will not let her run me out. Besides, Becky says chaos is coming. Your pack will have all it can handle without worrying about me and the demon witch.”
“Everything will be fine.” He walked to the table, put his palms on it, and leaned toward her. “I can take care of my pack, and I can take care of you.”
“Eli…” She smiled, but was unable to actually look at him.
“He thinks you are broken,” Becky said, from the kitchen doorway. “He wants to fix you. It’s what he does.”
Abby felt herself go pale and hunched in her seat, a hand to her face.
Eli straightened slowly, and looked at Becky. “I thought you were a mind reader.” His voice was calm. Too calm.
Abby knew him well enough to know that he was furious with the empath.
“I read auras.”
“Not very well,” he said.
“I don’t want her hurt.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
Abby got up and without a word to either of them, walked out of the kitchen. She plucked her mask from the floor, and then ran out of the house.
Equal parts humiliation and rage choked her.
“Bastards,” she muttered. “All of them.”
The alpha thought of her as a broken bird he needed to heal.
Sweet.
“Bastards,” she said, again.
It didn’t make her feel better.
She could only hope Eli didn’t know she’d developed quite the crush on him.
“Of course he knows,” she said.
“Abby, who are you talking to?”
She screamed and spun around, her wand up.
Eli held his hands in the air. “Don’t shoot.”
“That’s not funny.” She stuck her wand back into her pocket and began walking.
He fell into step beside her. “We found no sign of the talisman today.”
“Maybe it’s hopeless.” She found herself near tears. “Maybe we’ll never find it.”
“We’ll widen the search tomorrow. I’m bringing in more wolves to help.”
“Why? It’s not here, Eli. It’s just gone.”
He grabbed her arm and swung her around. “Wolves don’t give up, Abby. You need to remember that.”
And before she could say a word, he strode away, heading for his car. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.
She sniffed, then smiled.
There were worse things than having Eli Dean for a friend.
She continued her walk, reluctant to face Becky.
The dogs began braying.
Company was coming.
She hurried back to the house, her wand firmly in hand. Eli wouldn’t be returning, surely. Unless he’d found the talisman.
Please. Oh please.
She climbed her porch steps seconds before her company arrived.
He roared into her yard in a greenish pickup truck that looked like it’d been born around the same time as Abby’s mother, tossed down a rocky ravine, then beaten with sledgehammers until the only part that wasn’t dented was the…actually, there didn’t appear to be any part that wasn’t dented.
“Mel,” she murmured.
He climbed out of the truck, slammed his door shut—or tried to. It hit the side of the rusty truck and hung crookedly on its hinges until Mel lifted it and slammed it once more into its proper place.
“Runs like a dream,” he said, and gave the dreadful truck a fond pat.
She pursed her lips. “That is an interesting automobile, Mel.”
He stood quietly, his stare on Abby, as Sadie and Elmer approached him. The dogs circled him, then sniffed him, and finally sat on their haunches, tongues lolling, and waited for some attention.
“They like you,” Abby said.
“Especially Sadie.” He rubbed her head. “Good to see you again, girl.” He turned to Elmer. “And who’s this, hmmm? Your boyfriend? Handsome fellow you got there, Ms. Sadie.”
Elmer threw himself to his back and stretched out for a belly rub, his feet peddling the air, but Sadie stuck her nose in the air and trotted away, stiff with disgust.
Abby grinned. “Elmer trusts you a little more than Sadie does.”
Mel straightened and walked toward her, smiling. “Nah, she’s just jealous.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. “Hi,” he said, finally, his voice low.
She smiled. Mel had a way about him. It was impossible to be unhappy in his presence. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes sparkled and he started toward the porch. “Do I have to have a reason to visit the lovely witch of Waifwater? Maybe I came for a love spell.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If you make one for me, take a nice long sip of it, okay?”
&nb
sp; She snorted.
He stood on the bottom step. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
He put his hand on the railing. “I know the last couple of days have been hard on you. Seeing Brooke’s body, especially. I want you to know I’m available if you need a shoulder. Or any other body part.”
She laughed. “You’re a freak. And I have company.”
He narrowed his eyes and looked, for one fleeting moment, so much like Eli that she swayed.
He leapt the rest of the way up the porch and took her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said. “You just…for a moment your resemblance to the alpha was disconcerting.”
“Ah yes. The wonderful alpha.”
She pursed her lips. “You two aren’t close.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I have a brain. It has the ability to handle complicated things.”
“I wasn’t raised up in Waifwater around the Deans. Eli and I are just getting to know each other. I haven’t been in town long.”
“You’re luckier than you realize.”
He looked away. “I know my father was an asshole, Abby. He’s the reason my half-brother is such a controlling, suspicious…alpha.”
“Did you take the Dean name?”
“Nope. My last name is Damon.”
She put a hand to her chest. “You’re a Damon? One of the Damons?”
“Guilty.”
“You’re a hunter. Of course you are.” Suddenly, it was obvious. He had a hunter’s look about him. He was full of a hunter’s charm, and there was a hunter’s danger hidden deep in his sparkling eyes. “The Damons have been hunters for hundreds of years.”
He smiled. “I’m aware of my family history, princess.” Then he lost his smile. “Both sides of it.”
“Why did you come here? I mean, to Waifwater?”
He shrugged. “It was something I needed to do. Look, Abby. I didn’t come here to discuss my dark family secrets. I wanted to see you.”
He was too close to her, in her space.
Knowing he was a demon hunter changed everything. She could no longer enjoy his company. And the last thing she wanted to do was make him suspicious.
Demon hunters were notorious for being driven by a zealousness the rest of the world didn’t really understand.
There was always a story behind that obsession.
