Dime Store Magic (Otherworld 3)

"I just wanted to be sure. I'm taking a big risk here. It would have been easier if I could have persuaded Kristof to get rid of her, but he's still stalling, worried about that witch-brat of his. When he finds out this one disappeared on my watch, I'll probably be out of a job, friend or not. So, of course, I want to be sure--"

The man's gaze hardened. "Did I give you my word?"

"Y--yes, sir. Forgive me."

"I appreciate your having brought this ... unique opportunity to my attention, Gabriel. You will be very well compensated for it." The man turned toward me, lips curving in a humorless smile. "I must say, it's almost a shame she has to die. My father's been worrying that Lucas will never provide him with grandsons. It's hard to perpetuate a dynasty when the current heir shows no inclination to father future heirs. He'd be so pleased to hear that Lucas has finally found someone. Then he'd meet her ... and probably drop dead of shock." The man shook his head. "A witch? Unbelievable, even for Lucas."

"Not just a witch," Sandford said. "The head of the American Coven."

"Oh, there's a dynastic alliance guaranteed to make the Cortez Cabal the laughingstock of the supernatural world. I'm doing my father such a favor, it's a shame I can't tell him about it."

The man turned to leave. As he walked out, a fireball flew from the ceiling and struck the side of his head. He whirled to Sandford.

"Don't look at me," Sandford said, stepping back. "That wasn't one of our spells."

The man turned to me. I glared at him, pouring every bit of hate and fury into that glare. The man opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shut it and settled for returning my glare before stalking out the door.

"I want her dead by sundown tomorrow. FedEx the tape to Lucas's motel room. Overnight express."

CHAPTER 46

SEND-OFF

Despite Cortez's brother's warning about involving others, Sandford had at least one ally: the half-demon Friesen. Less than thirty minutes after Sandford left me alone again, Friesen walked in. Without a word, he tossed me over his shoulder. He carried me from the room and across the basement to a hatch, much like the one in my house. Then he opened the hatch and pushed me through it.

I tumbled out the hatch door into a weed-choked garden. After being in the near-dark so long, the blast of sunlight made my eyes water. I struggled to wiggle free of my bonds, but they were tied tight. Friesen hefted himself out of the hatch, then picked me up, oblivious to my struggles, and slipped across the backyard to the barn. Inside the barn, a panel van was waiting. So was Gabriel Sandford. As Friesen carried me toward the van, Sandford snapped shut his cell phone.

"Done," Sandford said. "He'll be at the cabin in two hours."

Friesen nodded. With me still over his shoulder, he flipped open the van's rear gate. He laid me inside, faceup, then stepped back. His gaze traveled slowly over me, pausing at my chest and bared legs.

"Shut the door and get moving," Sandford said. "Before someone notices she's gone."

Friesen gave me another slow once-over, then slid his gaze toward Sandford. "I was just thinking ... you're sending Lucas Cortez a video, right? Of her death? Why not ... you know ... bump it up a little." His gaze shot back to me, a gleam of hunger alighting in his eyes. "I'll do it for you."

"You'll do what?" Sandford caught the look Friesen was giving me and his lip curled. "Rape wasn't part of the deal, and it's not going to be. Just take her to the cabin, and let the professional do his work."

"Seems like a waste, don't you think?"

"No, I'd prefer not to think about it at all, thank you very much." Sandford started to turn away, then frowned at Friesen, who was still staring as if I was a free buffet dinner. He shook his head and threw up his hands. "Oh, hell, do what you like, but do it away from the house and before you get to the cabin, okay? You've got two hours. Now move."

Friesen smiled and slammed the door.

As we pulled away from the house, I started to count. I had to get out of here before Friesen got far enough to pull over, and by the looks he'd been giving me, he wasn't going to wait longer than necessary.

When I reached a hundred, I decided we were out of sight of the house, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on mentally casting the suffocation spell, aiming it at Friesen. Nothing happened, not surprising, since I couldn't speak. Yet, back at the house, someone had lobbed a fireball. The spell came from my secret grimoires, so it had to have been me, though I wasn't sure how I'd done it. Had my fury somehow manifested itself in an unintentional spell? I hoped so, as I hoped I could do it again, this time choosing my spell.

The van slowed, then pulled to the side of the road. Already? We couldn't be more than a half-mile from the house. Friesen put the van in park. Then he swiveled, undid his seat belt, and squeezed through the front seats. I fought the urge to struggle and instead put everything I had into a mental cast. Nothing happened.

Friesen loomed over me. I started to fight against my bonds, inching backward across the floor.

"Not yet, honey," he said, crouching over me. "Nothing to worry about yet. I'm just going to take a better look."

As he unbuttoned my blouse, I rocked and twisted, but couldn't move enough to even hamper him. He spread my shirt apart, then grinned.

"Red," he said, gaze glued to my bra. "Black's okay, and white's kinda nice, but there's nothing like a girl who wears red." He stroked a finger across the bra cup. "Silk, I bet. A girl who really knows how to dress."

While he fiddled with the front clasp, I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on casting something, anything. My bra popped open. Friesen inhaled sharply.