Waking the Witch (Otherworld 11)

Kiddo. Another memory twitch.

It's the fever talking. Ignore it and be ready.

Jesse walked past me. I cast an energy bolt. Nothing happened. I closed my eyes and cast again. Nothing. Cast. Nothing.

A squeak of his boots. I opened my eyes. He'd turned back my way.

I looked around wildly and saw a pencil perched on top of a metal table just behind him. I remembered one of the first spells I'd learned. The simplest spell.

I cast. The pencil levitated on the first try. I moved it to the edge of the table and let it go. As it clattered to the floor, Jesse spun. His left hand formed a fist at his side and a rusty hammer rose from under the table. He maneuvered it out, watching and listening for me to make a move. My gaze stayed fixed on that fisted hand still at his side.

Every telekinetic half-demon has a "tell." A physical tic that precedes an attack. The other day, in activating his powers, Jesse had flexed his right hand, hiding his left ... because it was a tell I'd recognize.

I heard Paige's voice from eight years ago. She'd mak

e a fist with her left hand. She was good at covering it, but I figured it out about two seconds before she sent a twenty-pound pot sailing at my head.

The day before that I'd found out who my father was. I heard that voice now. Trust me, kiddo, you're gonna love this one. You've hit the genetic jackpot.

Leah O'Donnell.

My elbow bumped the machine beside me, and I realized I was shivering.

No way. No fucking way.

I blinked hard. It was the fever. I was losing it. I was remembering Jesse talking about Leah so I'd hallucinated that fisting left hand. Or maybe all Volos had that tell. And "kiddo" wasn't exactly a rare endearment.

But as outrageous as it sounded, it made sense, too. Jaime had sounded freaked out when I called. She'd been trying to contact Paige, and she'd been very happy to hear that I wasn't staying at home alone. Because she knew Leah had escaped her hell dimension? Feared she might come after me and thought I was safe if I wasn't in Portland?

Crazy, yes, but in my world, the most bizarre explanation is usually the right one.

Now if I could only figure out what possible reason Leah would have to take over Jesse and try to kill me, I'd be set.

That brainpower, though, was better spent sending the bitch on a one-way trip back to hell. I concentrated, pouring everything I had into a lethal spell--

If the killer was really Jesse, I could justify killing him. But if it was Leah in his body?

Oh, shit.

I didn't have a clue how to exorcise her. I needed to get Jaime.

Sure, just run outside and call her. Hope you don't die of poison in the meantime. Hope Leah doesn't kill Adam in the meantime.

For now, just incapacitate Leah, find Adam, and go. And do it without my spells.

Shit.

Jesse was moving down the aisle, hammer hovering in the air as he searched for the source of the noise. When he slowed, I mentally lifted the pencil and dropped it again. I couldn't get it high enough, though, and the rolling sound was unmistakable.

Jesse crouched and spotted it. I cast a binding spell. It fizzled. I closed my eyes and tried again.

"Someone doing a little telekinesis of her own?" Jesse said. "Why don't you come out and we'll play--"

He stopped as the spell clicked. I leaped out from my hiding spot. My stomach shot up on a wave of bile. I ignored it and barreled into him. As my hands made contact, the spell snapped. He ducked. I stumbled. A power-drive to the side of my skull sent me to the floor.

I tried to scramble up. The hammer appeared, hovering over me.

"Move, and I'll knock you back down," Jesse said. "And this will hurt a lot more than my fist, kiddo."