Grave Witch
Page 22“When did you realize?”
She shrugged, a small lift of her thin shoulders. “I guess I always kind of knew I was sensitive, but I didn’t find a teacher until a couple months ago.”
“Did you charm that diamond around your neck?”
Her hand moved to the necklace, but she didn’t look at it. “Yes.”
“Casey, that’s gray magic. Whoever your teacher is should have warned you about the damage gray magic does to your—”
“Nobody asked you, Alexis. Stay out of my business.”
She gave me a petulant look, just like the way she had when we were kids. In the same tone she would have used then, she said, “And get out of my room.”
“Casey, I—”
“I’m going to call security if you don’t leave.”
I considered not leaving. Just for the hell of it. But if she screamed “Daddy” now, I’d get escorted off the premises by guards. I turned, seeing myself out.
I didn’t get far.
As I slipped back into the hall a beefy hand landed on my shoulder. I froze. Busted.
I didn’t recognize the square-jawed man, but he clearly knew me. He shoved me forward, and I begrudgingly allowed him to march me into my father’s office.
Well, the office was where I wanted to go anyway—just not in this circumstance.
My father sat behind his huge mahogany desk, his fingers steepled before his lips. His dark gaze fixed on me as soon as I entered, but he said nothing. The beefy guard—or assistant or whatever my father called him—pushed me into the leather armchair in front of the desk.
I leaned back, trying to look comfortable.
Still my father remained silent.
A game of nerves? I tried for an eyebrow lift, but even if my face didn’t show the sutures, they were definitely still there. I ended up scowling instead. My father just watched me, his face impassive.
I shifted my weight, my dress rustling around my boots. Fine; if we aren’t talking, I’ll do something else. I focused on opening my senses and found—nothing. Not even a charm to make sure his suit continued to look perfect if he spilled food on it during dinner. I scanned his two goons, since they’d likely been in the group earlier.
One carried a charm I couldn’t identify on a casual pass, but it felt benign enough. The other had no magic on him.
I shifted my weight again, wiping my palms on the skirt of my dress.
“Well?” I finally asked.
My father shook his head. “Always the impatient one.” He dropped his hands and reached for a pen. He studied the document in front of him as though I’d been dismissed.
I wasn’t fooled.
Without looking up he said, “This is the second time in as many days you’ve invaded my home.What is it you want, Alexis?”
I stared at the top of his head, not saying anything.
The silence was sharp, cutting the air between us. Finally, he put the pen down and looked up. Impatient or not, I figured I was about as stubborn as he was, so I held my tongue.
Minutes ticked by, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Alexis, I have a reason for my actions. A plan. Can you say the same?” He glanced over his shoulder and said, “See her out. And make sure the guards know not to let her back in.”
That was my dismissal.The goon behind me squeezed my shoulder, and I stood without further prompting. As I stepped though the office door I turned back to face my father.
“By the way, George, great party, but one thing amazes me. Why is it Humans First Party supporters hate witches, but sneak in illusion charms for an instant face-lift or boob job?” Turning on my heel, I stormed out of the room, leaving the goon to catch up.
I shook my head as I took the stairs two at a time.
That was my great retort? A boob job? After all these years, he still got under my skin. At least one thing was certain: that man was definitely my father.
Chapter 11
I leaned against the gate and smiled in the general direction of the guard’s silhouette. I could only hope Falin saw me waiting for him, or I’d be begging for a ride. I had serious doubts I’d have much luck in that department.
I shouldn’t have worried. Not twenty minutes after I was jettisoned from the party, Falin’s convertible purred up to the gate. The stiff set of his jaw as he drove made me think he probably wasn’t thrilled with leaving the party before dinner.What could I say? I’d never been on a date before. I didn’t know the rules.
“Where did you go?” he asked as he took a turn a little too tight.
“Investigating.”
“You got us kicked out.”
Falin grunted, which I interpreted as either amusement or disgust.
“Can I ask you a theoretical question?” I didn’t wait for his answer. I was asking my question now, because after tonight, he might never speak to me again. “If there was a spell sucking on someone’s soul, how would you stop it?”
He slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded to a stop in front of a red light. I waited.
The light turned green, but the car didn’t move, and he still didn’t answer. Okay, what’s with people not talking tonight?
The plush leather groaned under me as I squirmed, and the driver in the car behind us blared his horn. The convertible jetted forward.
“You’re not talking about a soul being ejected. You’re talking consumption?” His voice was guarded, and deadly serious.
Considering it was my soul, so was I.
I nodded and waited, but he didn’t say anything else.
“Well?”
His cell phone chirped at his side, but he turned toward me, the streetlights highlighting the severe lines of his face.
“Why do you expect me to know the answer?”The phone chirped again and he pulled it from his waist one-handed.
“Andrews,” he barked into the phone as greeting.
Because you seem to know too much? I didn’t say it. Instead I rubbed the scratches on my shoulder and turned to look at the darkness outside my window, giving him as much illusion of privacy as I could in the small car. If my father isn’t Coleman, then who is? There had been too many people too close together when I’d picked up that wave of dark magic. It could have been any of them. I shook my head.
“I’m not far. I’ll be there in a moment.” Falin’s phone snapped shut, and he flicked a switch, filling the night sky surrounding the car with blue lights. “Change of plans,” he said. “There’s been a murder. I’ll get one of the officers at the scene to drop you off.”
———
I’d thought Falin’s driving was reckless before, but the flashing blue lights freed him to press the car’s speedometer to the max. In no time, we were pulling into a gravel pit filled with cop cars. I swallowed hard. My night vision was beyond wrecked from years of using grave-sight, and the flashing blue lights didn’t help, but from what I could see, this place looked a little too familiar.
“Uh, Falin, is this an abandoned warehouse?”
“Yeah.” He threw the car in park and jumped out, slamming the door behind me. “Stay in the car.”
“Wait! I—”
I slumped back into my seat, readjusted my skirt, and propped my booted feet on the dash. I fished the spellbook out of my boot and tossed it in my purse. Then I waited, counting under my breath. I hit number fifty. He has to have made it inside by now.
I looked around but couldn’t see much. Well, it’s now or never. I slipped out of the car and pushed the door closed silently. Then I walked toward the lights at the end of the gravel lot.
The building had enough security lighting around it that I didn’t run into anything, but the corners where the light didn’t reach were eaten by shadows. I avoided those as I made my way to the yellow crime tape.
“Alex, girl, is that you?”
I turned at my name. A man, probably a cop, swaggered in my direction. Or maybe it wasn’t a swagger.
Maybe his knees were weak. I stared too long, struggling to decipher the shadowed features into a familiar face.
“That is you,Alex. I hardly recognized you all dressed up.”
The voice finally clicked. “Detective Jenson. How are you?”
He shrugged, but his face was paler than it should have been. Jenson hadn’t been in the homicide unit for more than five years, but his eyes were already defeated.
He’d been John’s partner since transferring to homicide, but no one expected him to stay with the unit much longer.
“So, you’re dressing up to see crime scenes these days? Touch of fame get to you?” Jenson said, and I couldn’t tell whether it was the shadows that made his smile look like a sneer.
Generally I liked Jenson. He was at Tuesday dinner at John’s once in a while, and he usually respected the help I provided the cops.The wind shifted, bringing with it the putrid smell of vomit.
I wrinkled my nose. “It’s bad in there, isn’t it?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the building looming behind him. “I saw Detective Andrews a minute ago. You screwing your way into crime scenes now that John’s in the hospital?”
I blinked and curled my fingers into my arm to ensure I didn’t slap him.
“I don’t believe we were talking about my dating habits, Detective.”
“I haven’t heard much about you dating anyone.” He leaned forward.
The scent of vomit wasn’t just on the wind, it was on his breath. Whatever was inside the warehouse was bad, but I wasn’t going to stand there being insulted just so he could block out what he’d seen. I stepped back.
“Good night, Detective.” I walked away without glancing back. The asshole—where did he get off thinking he could …