Chapter 17

We spent all day at the school, taking statements from students who might have seen the ghost, trying to understand where she came from, and watching them unearth those five unmarked graves along with the sixth, tiny half-formed body.

The science teacher was the closest I’d met to a demon in human form. In his twenty-three years at the school he’d quietly preyed on girls. When they got pregnant he slipped them a chemical cocktail to bring the baby early. Then he took those children, his children, and put his hand over their mouth until they died. I couldn’t imagine a hell horrible enough for him.

By the time we got back to the squad room I wasn’t thinking of anything else. A messenger dropped off a DVD from the parking lot camera. I promised Danny I’d watch at home. I sent him on his way, sure his girls would never attend St. Joan’s. Wrung out from the day, I looked around the room trying to think of what I planned to accomplish all those hours ago. I hadn’t even followed up on a single of my phone calls from yesterday.

My eyes fell on Simon packing up his things on the other side of the room. I looked at him, sure I was forgetting something, but completely clueless as to what.

“Hey Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Any chance you can tell me what I was going to ask you?”

“Are we doing parlor games? ’Cause I’ve always wanted to see you bring back a dead body.”

“No, seriously, there was something I wanted to ask you, it was important, but with the case today I forgot. Any ideas?”

“Maybe you wanted to take another look at these construction photos? I’d love to get this stabbing and the dead dog thing off my to-do list.” He held the folder out at me and while I didn’t think that was what I’d forgotten, I took it anyway. I was already going to spend the night watching a security tape. I might as well look at a few photos too.

****

Jakob went into work early and planned to stay late to make up for the time he’d taken off to see the play last night. The case left me a touch lonely, it got worse going back to an empty apartment to eat my dinner by myself. I stepped inside the front door, dropped the photos and the DVD on the side table and wallowed in self-pity. Another three steps and I got over it, getting the phone to call Phoebe.

“Pheebs!” I shouted into the phone. “What are you doing? Come have dinner with me.”

“Aw-w-w, that’s sweet but I can’t. I’m in the middle of a ritual bath.”

“A what?”

“A ritual bath, you know for cleansing yourself before you do big magic.”

“You’re doing magic tonight?” I vaguely remembered hearing the other girls did spellwork, but since I was useless with candles and didn’t even have a Book of Shadows, I didn’t know much about it.

“Not me, Ethan.” Her voice dropped to a deep-throated sexy whisper. “Or maybe Ethan and me?”

“Huh?”

“Ethan and I are supposed to get together tonight and he told me to take the bath first so-o-o-o…”

“So you’re hoping it means sex,” I finished for her.

“Exactly.” I heard the bath water running in the background. “Tell the truth. What do you think about him?”

“He’s…” I stalled a second trying to pick my words and she caught it.

“What? He’s nice.”

“Yeah he is…nice. But he’s also a zealot. I mean, he’s a nice zealot and all but…”

“But?”

She seemed so happy I hated to spoil it. “But he’s not really your type. You don’t do nice. And this is the first time you haven’t said he’s great fifteen times when you’re talking about him. It’s like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

“You’re right.” She sighed. “I haven’t…well, I haven’t read him. I don’t know what’s going on in his head. Most guys I read them up front, get a peek into their head, see what they’re seeing in their mind and all, but with Ethan I’ve kept my magic to myself. I wanted this to be normal, but I can’t help feeling skittish, like there’s so much I don’t know. Yeah, he’s a zealot but being a zealot for Mother Earth isn’t that bad, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“And you have to admit some things do look better by candlelight.”

“I do.”

“Maybe I’m saying he’s great because I’m nervous but that doesn’t necessarily make him not great, you know?”

“I know. How about tonight, during your spellwork, you peek inside his head.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Find out what he’s thinking, then you can stop being nervous and figure out if he’s really great.”

“Hmmm, it’s not a bad idea. I’ll think about it.”

I told her she should and ended the call. Turning to my kitchen cabinets, I grabbed a bag of cookies then rummaged around until I found the Chinese food take-out menu.

The Chinese arrived twenty minutes later, lo mein and egg rolls, barely enough to meet the delivery minimum but enough for me. I stuck the chopsticks into the paper container and grabbed the DVD from the studio’s camera. Sure, I’d rather watch something fun while I ate, but this way I’d be productive. I settled into the couch, eagerly shoving food into my mouth while the video started.

The image showed black, white, and a thousand shades of gray on my TV. In the corner of the picture a date and time stood out, burned bright white on the image. I watched the early morning stillness for a few seconds, gray birds hopping on a darker gray grass, the sky a lighter gray behind them.

Bored, I grabbed the remote and made time speed by. The birds were replaced with cars, the cars with other cars, life on fast forward, a dance that needed fast-paced music. The clock in the corner marched ahead quickly. When it read noon, I slowed down to regular speed.

There was Christine, parking her car, the blue one I’d seen empty and abandoned. She got out of the driver’s side door, checked out her reflection in the car door window and put on a touch of fresh lipstick. Satisfied, she headed inside. The clock told me it took less than a minute but watching the last movements of a dead woman felt slow to me. I hit fast forward again, letting the clock speed forward for an hour then stopped.

Christine came into view, hair in a tight updo, maybe wet from a shower. Walking beside her was another woman. They walked close together, friends. The woman followed her to the car, a blur of grays with a glint of silver in her face. A nose ring, maybe? Her features were fuzzy but vaguely familiar.

The two of them made it to Christine’s car. Christine had her hand on the door, shaking her head and then the other woman grabbed her. There was a kiss, the kind of kiss you didn’t usually see in public, and Christine took her hand off the car door. The two of them walked to another car a few spaces away and left.

I sat on the couch stunned. Christine had gotten into the car with someone from the studio. When had she gotten back? Who took her car to Rivermont? I pushed the tape forward. Two times speed, then four, then eight, the images whizzing by on my screen.

Until finally almost six hours later, when it was dark, a tall man came into view, tall and big, a giant of a man. He opened Christine’s car door with a key and drove off. My mind raced and I left the Chinese food on the coffee table, forgotten. I ran to the front table, grabbed Simon’s folder and dug out the construction site photos.

There he was, front and center. The tall man, the big man, the one I called Paul Bunyan, except when I’d met him Ethan called him George.

My notebook was still inside my purse and I dug it out flipping the pages frantically. I found the number I wanted and dialed, hoping she was there.

“Balance Body and Mind studio,” a cheerful voice informed me.

“This is Detective Mors. I need Ximena. Is she there?”

“Oh, I’m sorry she’s gone for the evening.”

I swore loudly enough the receptionist asked, “Is something wrong?”

“I need to know the name of the woman in Christine Sweeny’s Saturday class. Ximena said it was Rina, but I need her full name.” My mind raced, trying to come up with Ximena’s home number, wondering if dispatch could get it for me.

“It was Marina something, but I’m sorry I don’t know the rest.”

“Marina?”

“Yup, went by Rina.”

“With short hair and a nose ring?”

“That’s her. I’m sorry I don’t know her last name but if you call Ximena at home I’m sure she’ll know it,” she offered helpfully.

I thanked her and got off the phone. Two members of Terra Prima were with Christine on the day she died. One of those members worked at the construction site. The site was destroyed with earth magic, the same magic that stabbed the representative.

Christine could have been killed by a water witch. Terra Prima was made up of water and earth witches. Ethan said the representative wasn’t a friend to the environment. A thousand pieces fell into place and I dialed Phoebe’s cell phone, panicked. She didn’t pick up.

****

I called Danny frantic, not sure what to do. He didn’t pick up. I tried Mark next, and got his voice mail. I hung up, then thought the better of it and called back.

“Mark, it’s Mallory. I think Terra Prima is behind the construction site vandalism and the stabbing of representative Lloyd. Can you check out the big guy in the construction photos? His first name is George. I’m worried about Phoebe too; she’s dating the head of Terra Prima and they’re out tonight.”

I rambled, not making any sense but desperate to tell someone. “You know what, I’m going to check things out at Rivermont Park. That’s where we found the stabbing victim and my murder victim’s car. Call me back. If you don’t hear from me head there.”

I hung up and headed upstairs to change. Hiking boots, jeans, a coat, it was cold out but I wanted to be able to move. I paused at the front door, almost outside of it and decided to call Jakob. Mark might not check his voicemail for a while and I didn’t want to go somewhere without someone knowing where I was.

I got Jakob’s voice mail too. Was everyone I knew busy tonight? I left a short message, that I was going to check something out and if he didn’t hear from me in a couple of hours to go to Rivermont Park. Downstairs, I gunned the engine on Lara, hoping my Jeep could make it into the park without too many scratches.

On my way to the park, I tried Danny again. He didn’t pick up the first time and the second time it took him four rings.

“Where are you?”

“A swim clinic in Natchez, Mississippi.”

“What?”

“Maeve and Nora are in a workshop. I’m picking them up. Why do you sound so upset?”

“I think Terra Prima is killing people. Christine got into a car with Marina from their office and the big guy who met us there drove her car to Rivermont. Meredith told us there was a group of witches who met in those woods, right next to where I found the Representative.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions; it could be the two of them and not Terra Prima. Or maybe it’s all of them. Either way, we need evidence and you’re not going to get it tonight. We’ll start at their offices tomorrow.”

“No.” I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “Phoebe, my girlfriend who’s dating Ethan, told me they’re doing something big tonight and now she’s not answering her phone. I’m worried about her.”

“It’ll be two hours before I get back there. Are you willing to wait?”

“No. I need to check this out now.”

“Fine, but don’t go alone. Take someone along, someone who knows what they’re doing.” I swerved into an illegal U-turn and headed toward the station.

“Got any suggestions on who?”

“You’re going up against a bunch of water and earth witches. Whoever is willing to go. I’ll see you in two hours at Rivermont Park.”

I thanked him and hung up. I thought about who to take as I drove. Earth and water against what? Fire maybe, I could call on Raya, assuming I got over the fact that I didn’t really believe in Her. No, even if I did, it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t willing to pay whatever price She wanted.

Earth and Water…I thought about who was on nightshift. Ben was my best bet; a strong air witch might be able to help. Then again, maybe I was being silly and Phoebe was fine, enjoying a night of fun. I hoped so. I hoped Danny would find me in an empty park looking silly. I hoped and I drove like Phoebe’s life depended on it.

The squad room was too quiet, half-empty when I needed it to be full. Too late I realized it was after ten, the middle of the morning for these guys. Everyone was out on a call. The only face I didn’t want to see was the one looking at me.

“Your heart’s racing, what’s wrong?” Amadeus asked, a touch alarmed. I hated how he could hear my heartbeat.

“Where’s Ben?” If Amadeus was here Ben couldn’t be out on a call.

“Early lunch with his girlfriend, why?”

“I need to check something out and I need someone strong to go with me.” I cursed Isaura and her romantic ideas while I dug in my pocket for my cell phone to interrupt them.

“Well, I’m strong. Let me check it out.”

“No, it’s about Phoebe, I don’t think she’d want you…”

“Phoebe?” He asked, completely confused.

“My friend. She’s blonde. You slept with her last year?”

“I slept with lots of blondes last year. Why are you worried about her? What’d she do?”

“Nothing. I think she’s in trouble. My murder case and Simon’s attempted murder case might be related. I think tonight that group is going to hurt Phoebe, which is why I need Ben’s help.”

“Well, Ben’s not here, so you’re going to have to let me check it out,” he insisted, obstinate. “Tell me where and I can call you at home—”

“No!” I shouted. We were losing precious time. “I’m not sitting this out. She’s my friend. If you’re going anywhere I’m coming with you.”

“Where is it?”

“Rivermont Park, I don’t know where in the park, but somewhere close to the water.”

“And I have to get there as soon as I can?”

“Exactly.”

“Fine, then you can’t come because I’ll take my bike and there’s not enough room for you.”

“Your bike?” Now I was lost; what did a bike to do with this?

“Motorcycle.”

“I’ll sit on the back, let’s go.” He might have wanted to protest, but I was already walking out the door. He didn’t follow me; he stopped to fill out some random form.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, coming back into the room.

“Putting in a ticket so back up can be ready if this turns out to be something.”

“We do not have time for that! We need to go, not do paperwork.”

“We need to follow the rules and not make this into a bigger problem.”

“Fine. Then hurry the hell up,” I snapped.

****

Saying I’d happily climb on the back of a motorcycle in the squad room didn’t compare to looking at one. Amadeus’ bike had the pinched insect-like body of an off-road bike. Thankfully it was the exact opposite of the model my husband had been riding when he died.

I swallowed hard, remembering the stitches they’d put into his neck trying to hold his head in place. Amadeus straddled the machine, rolling it forward off the kickstand before turning back to hand me a helmet.

“Have you ridden before?”

I nodded, lacing up the strap.

“Then why do you look so pale?”

“My husband died on one of these, going into a turn.”

“Look if you want to stay here—”

“Shut up and let’s get going.” I mastered my fear and got on. He rode fast, faster than Greg ever did with me on the back. After the first few quick turns I remembered why I enjoyed this, the thrill of speed, the feeling of power beneath me and none of the responsibility of riding.

Greg tried to get me my own bike but I didn’t want it. The occasional trip on his was enough. It’d been a long while since my last ride but the feeling couldn’t push the fear for Phoebe out of my head. We went fast enough that the trip to Rivermont, which could have taken a half an hour, took ten minutes.

We stopped and Amadeus gestured for me to take off the helmet so I could speak.

“Where in the park?”

“I don’t know. Let’s head in and find them.” The park didn’t seem as friendly as it had on my walk with Danny. The woods seemed darker, menacing. My confidence that I was wrong quickly evaporated.

“Hold on, there might be a better way.” He stood with both feet on the earth, the bike balanced beneath him. “Did I bite her?”

“Do you honestly not remember?” I asked, exasperated.

He shook his head.

“Blonde, spirit witch, tall, Latina, green eyes?” His face stayed blank. “You did. She enjoyed it.”

“Good. Hold on.” I didn’t know if he meant to hold onto his waist again or to wait but I didn’t want to interrupt him because the look on his face changed. I felt the magic a second later, like the feeling of fingers on my skin, light touches barely registered on my arm, my cheek. It reached over and around me, picking at me as it went on its way. I swallowed hard and tried not to swat away a thousand ghostly fingers.

“She’s that way,” he declared. “But she can’t come to me.”

“What?” I asked, pissed off and scared at once.

“Put on the helmet, let’s go.” He ignored my question and barely gave me time to put it on before the engine roared to life. The back end of the bike fishtailed, wobbling as we left the trail I’d run on and climbed into the woods. Trees whipped by and I held tightly to him. My helmet pressed against his black leather jacket to avoid the branches and leaves that slapped at my arms and back. I wanted to ask him how he knew, what magic he’d done but it was all I could do to fight to hold on.

The bike swerved, it jagged left and I hoped he was showing off. I raised my head to see, but through the visor of the helmet I realized with dread he wasn’t. The very trees around us were reaching out for the bike, limbs bending to go in front of him.

He rode through the gauntlet, swerving, working against the forest. I had no idea how to move; I could only cling to him, desperate not to be thrown off.

I looked down and saw, too late to warn him, the trees were only half of the attack. Deep into the park, surrounded by trees with no way to dodge, the ground rose up against us. Like a wave of water, the soil and the plants on top of it swelled.

Before I could say anything, we were airborne, the bike launched as if it had gone over a ramp. I expected him to stay with the bike, to try to land gracefully, but instead he let it go and grabbed me. Holding me tight, we fell, plowing into the earth, his back to the ground. The fall happened in slow motion but took only seconds. We stopped, and I shook, scared and covered in dirt. There was a mound of earth in front of us, piled up by his back as we skidded across the forest floor.

I took a deep breath, starting to say something when he tossed me aside. I rolled, hitting the ground without any force, and came up to look at him. My vision was blocked by the now-cracked visor, and I fumbled with the straps to get the helmet off. When I did he was standing up, shaking off the impact. His back was raw with dirt sticking to pearly white bone and blood.

“Your back! And your jacket, it’s…I mean it looks…”

“Better than I would if Jakob knew I let you get hurt.” He offered me a hand and pulled me roughly to my feet. I appreciated the hand, I appreciated even more that I wasn’t looking at the shredded leather and flesh. “Now be quiet; I’d like them to believe their trick worked.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, them, about seven people, eight if you count the girl but I don’t.” He started walking and I stumbled after him, a bundle of bruises making me awkward. I ran into branches, nearly tripped over twigs, and generally moved without a hint of grace or silence.

“Quiet,” he hissed. When I reached him, he was sitting behind a fallen tree trunk, staring ahead. Brushed clear of all the usual pine needles and stones was a perfect circle. On the edges a group of people stood, naked, backs to us, and in the center, on a stone altar, was Phoebe.

“What the hell?” I whispered. Her green eyes were wide with terror but she looked unhurt. Bound with scratchy tan rope and gagged with a white cloth she half sat, half-lay on the wide white stone, fear turning her into a statue.

“She’s the sacrifice,” he told me. The large man, George, held a knife I guessed was petrified palm wood, a knife that would leave behind the smells of earth when it cut. I’d felt those cuts on a dog. I didn’t want to feel them on Phoebe.

“Get her out of there,” I demanded.

“I can’t. The circle is too strong.” I followed his gesture and saw it, a rough circle carved into the earth. Had they carved it with the stone knife? The thought made me shiver.

“Okay then we shoot them.” I reached for my gun.

“No!” He pushed my hand down. “Bullets don’t work right in sacred circles; they deflect, don’t fly straight. We need something stronger, something magical.”

“Well think of something fast,” I said, watching George hold the knife above my friend. The group was chanting, more sounds than words, and I didn’t want to think about what would happen when the chanting stopped.

“If I was stronger…” He spoke in a low undertone, upset, then turned to me, his eyes serious. “You need to help me.”

“How?” I asked, but he didn’t answer; he just grabbed me and kissed me.

His mouth pounced on mine, his tongue exploring with sharp fangs behind it. Vampire magic washed over me. Amadeus was calling power from me, pulling it from my soul like sucking the breath from my mouth. I couldn’t stop him, not locked there in that kiss, but then I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The magic felt good, it felt right, it felt…

It felt like nothing. Suddenly, I was back against the tree. Amadeus was gone. Just gone, thrown somewhere or grabbed or what? I looked around but couldn’t see anything. I sent my magic out searching for him; it found something better. Jakob walked into the circle like it wasn’t there.

The group turned, surprised into action. There was a shout but Jakob cut the man off with a strong backhand. Blood blossomed on his victim’s face and a woman ran, fleeing into the forest. The circle evaporated, leaving with a tingle of magic. Three of the witches that were left cowered together.

Rina didn’t cower; she stood firm, locking her hands into fists. I could feel her start to gather magic but she never finished. Jakob was in front of her, his eyes on hers before another second passed. She crumbled, her body folding in on itself until it came to rest curled in a tight ball, a high moaning sound coming from her lips.

George left Phoebe at the altar to run at Jakob, the knife raised. I screamed but wasn’t fast enough, and the knife sank through Jakob’s shirt into the meat of his back. The fabric tore open and blood poured out of the wound, bright red on familiar pale skin. The knife stopped, hit something, stuck. Jakob took advantage of the moment to twist, grabbing the man by the shoulders.

Jakob was shorter, more than a foot shorter, but he lifted George off the ground and sneered at him, glowing red eyes and sharp white fangs. The moment seemed to still, and death waited in the silence.

On the altar Phoebe sobbed. Her loud cry broke the quiet and Jakob very slowly put the man down. He looked at him, a look with power in it, and George crumbled to the ground the way Rina had. Jakob stepped over the body and began to rip Phoebe’s hands free. I ran from my hiding space toward them.

“Mal?” Phoebe asked, completely unsure of herself. I grabbed onto her, holding her tight and she sobbed against my shoulder. In the distance, I heard another familiar voice.

“Hold still.” Mark brought his hands to Jakob’s back. There was a soft sucking noise followed by a wet pop before Mark tossed the knife on the altar. “You just had to fly faster, didn’t you?”

“Take care of them,” Jakob ordered before he left too fast for me to see him go.

“The squad is on its way, about three minutes behind us.” Mark tried to be soothing.

“Go after him!” I shouted.

“But…”

“Go! He’s been stabbed! Take care of him.” Mark looked confused for a minute and then left as quickly as Jakob had.