Waking the Witch (Otherworld 11)
Page 70
"That whore's daughter?" Tiffany's lip curled.
I hit her with the internal fireball spell again and she screamed. I let her scream, writhing on the floor, and this time I didn't hear Paige's voice. I waited until she curled up in a ball, gasping. Then I launched it again, this time in her throat. Her eyes rolled, but she could only gag, smoke puffing with each breath. Again, I waited until the fire went out and she lay there, moaning.
"You're going to have a sore throat for a few days," I said. "But if you say one more word against Kayla or Paula Thompson, it'll be the last word you ever say. Understood?"
She glared up at me.
"As for the rest, I'll give you a few hours to think about it. Then I'm knocking on your door and you're either talking to me or--"
"Or you're hauling me in front of the council," she croaked.
"If I'm in a good mood. But right now, Tiffany, I'm not in a good mood. You've got until three o'clock," I said and walked away.
twenty-five
What the hell had happened with my knockback and energy-bolt spells? had spells didn't fail--not ones I knew so well I bolt spells? My spells didn't fail--not ones I knew so well I could cast them in my sleep.
As I thought about it, though, I remembered that lingering headache and my unsettled stomach. Nothing serious, but put them together and I could be coming down with something. The last time I'd had the flu, it had wiped me out, spell power, too.
But right now, my biggest worry was that I'd made a mistake by walking away and leaving Tiffany with a warning. I'd wanted to push harder, yet I'd realized that I didn't have any leverage. All I knew was that she'd done something she thought worthy of co
uncil attention. I needed more information.
Molly said the ritual was druidic. I kind of hoped she was wrong, because that added another complication to a case that didn't need it, not when I was already following leads on witchcraft and Santeria. Did that mean Tiffany Radu wasn't the only supernatural hiding out in Columbus? Was she hiding? If so, from what? Was it related to the person stalking her? The person stalking me? Was that person involved in Michael's death?
As I walked toward the Thompson home, I called Paige.
"So, how's the beach?" I said when she answered.
"We saw it."
"Through your resort room window?"
She gave a throaty laugh. "No. We went for a beach walk last night. Today we're touring the volcano. Tomorrow we're going into the rain forest."
"Missing the point, aren't you? You're supposed to be lying on the beach, soaking up the rays ..."
Paige made a gagging noise. Even on vacation, it would take a binding spell to get her to stay still.
We talked for another couple of minutes. Then, as I was ready to hang up, she suddenly said. "Is everything okay, Savannah?"
"Hmm?"
"You sound a little off. Are you okay?"
My throat clenched and I gripped the phone. No, I'm not. The guy I went out with last night is dead. I found his body. I spent the night being interrogated by the cops. I don't want to tell you what's happening because you're on vacation, and I can handle this, but I just feel ... lonely. I feel lonely.
"Everything's fine," I said.
A pause. "Okay, then, well, if you need us, just call."
"I will."
NEXT, JESSE CHECKED in to say he'd gotten tied up in Seattle--a client showed up just as he was grabbing stuff from the office. He was on his way now and would call me when he was in town.
I told him about Tiffany. I'm not sure what bothered him most: that she knew who I was or that we both thought someone was spying on us.
"The targeting of two witches doesn't constitute a racially motivated pattern, as Lucas would say," I said. "We could just have a random peeper."