Better Witch Next Time Page 11

  "That's my guy, too. Rick Canali."

  "The one you said was Melody's boyfriend?" I asked.

  "I'm sure of it. He's the last person she was seen with."

  "He was with Penny last night," I said. The two of them continued down the sidewalk, walking further away from us. The air shimmered around Penny and her date. Like a haze. If you could pause time and examine it closely, you'd see that it was really molecules—atoms—buzzing about them and ready to rearrange at a moment’s notice. The effect was more noticeable now than ever before. I assumed it had something to do with being so close to the full moon.

  "What do you want to do?" It was broad daylight. Sneaking up behind them and blasting them on their backsides wasn't really feasible. If we did that, Michael and I would be running around town all afternoon erasing the memories of every witness, and who knows if we’d be able to catch everyone.

  "Hopefully they'll head inside. Then we can make our move once they're off the street."

  "Okay, smart plan," I said.

  "I'm know for them every now and then."

  "I'm sure you are," I replied.

  Michael held my gaze. The look was smoldering, and for a second, I forgot all about Penny as I thought about what it would be like to kiss the detective. Perhaps it was the spark we had shared when we first met, or the way he looked at me, like now. Those eyes, imploring me to make a move. Or even the love he showed for his family—all of it chipped away at my hardened heart, asking me to explore the possibilities.

  Perhaps just one kiss, I thought. What's the harm in that?

  Michael leaned in, and instead of meeting him halfway, I came to my senses turned away. My brain won. Oh no, Vee, it said, there will be no lip locking during this investigation. I was a professional and I would contain my hormones.

  "Think of Andrew," I mumbled aloud before I could help myself.

  "Who is Andrew?" Michael asked, a tiny smirk on his face.

  "I said that out loud?"

  "You sure did. Am I stepping on someone's toes, looking at you the way I just did?"

  Michael's directness caught me off guard. I hadn't imagined the look nor the intentions behind it. As if that was even a possibility. It was a good thing that neither one of us was gifted with telepathy since I was pretty sure neither one of us was thinking very pure thoughts at that moment. It was difficult to maintain your professional decorum when lust was at the helm.

  "Listen—" I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to say. I couldn't tell him the truth, that whether or not I thought there was a possibility for something to develop between the two of us, it would never happen. Not because I didn't want it to, because when he looked at me like that—oh, man—I definitely did want it to, but not in the form of a one-night stand, which is what we would be left with when I zapped back to the future.

  Oh, the irony of it all. I finally find a man that gets me and that I'm finding myself seriously interested in, and fate has to step in and say nope, not going to happen. Isn't that just a kicker? In fact, before I met Michael, I was pretty sure that the universe hadn't created my equal. That I just wasn't meant to find love in this lifetime. I had accepted it. I didn't do relationships and now here I was wishing I could.

  My internal monologue came to a halt when Michael said, "I have no idea what's going on inside that head of yours, but right now, we have to move." He motioned with his head to the end of the street where Penny and Rick had stopped in the entryway of her apartment building. The single overhead bulb flicked off and on as twilight settled in. The porch step crumbled at their feet. Her date went in for a kiss and that's when we made our move.

  They were already inside Penny's apartment, and we knocked on the door.

  "Go away," Rick practically growled from the other side.

  I could hear Penny's voice in the background. "Rick, that's not very nice."

  "What, you expecting company?"

  I decided to speak up in case Rick's objection prevented Penny from opening the door.

  "Penny, it's me. Irene's family friend? Can I talk to you for minute?"

  "Irene? I need to get this," Penny said. She opened the door for us a few seconds later. However, as soon as Rick caught sight of Michael with me, he freaked out, turning and dashing toward the window, practically hurtling himself out and down the fire escape. My arms shot out and I was ready to blast him one, but he was already out of sight. Still my fingertips emitted sparks in anticipation. Michael ran past Penny and gave chase, taking the same route but more measured.

  "Rick!” Penny yelled in shock, running toward the window and looking down. Then she turned to me. "What in the stars is going on?" Penny looked nothing but confused.

  "Mind if I come in? Hopefully together we can figure this out."

  "She wasn't with Archie?"

  Penny and I were standing in her kitchen, both of us keeping an eye out the window to see if we could spot Rick or Michael. So far neither one of them had returned, not that I had expected Rick to.

  "No, I talked to Archie two days ago."

  "Well, I have no idea where she is. I haven't seen her since ... I don't even know anymore."

  "What about Rick. How long have you known him?"

  Here Penny seemed less sure of herself. "A couple of weeks. Why? What does he have to do with any of this, and why did he jump out of my window?"

  I backed up.

  "What do you know about the supernatural community? Archie said you were an expert."

  At that compliment, Penny beamed.

  "Practically everything. Witches, ghosts, shifters. What do you want to know?"

  "You know Rick is a shifter then?"

  "Of course I know. I thought ... well, I thought dating a werewolf might raise me up a level with my family."

  "What sort of family do you have?" I asked before I could help myself. They had to be something supernatural to respect the power of a shifter.

  "My parents are like you are, powerful witches, but," Penny shrugged her shoulders. "The spark just skipped right on over me. I hate being a squib," she mumbled down to the floor.

  "A what?" I asked, not hearing her clearly.

  "A squib, okay?" Penny blurted out. Her face flushed to match the color of her hair.

  "Oh." Squibs had magical parents but no magic of their own. The result? They knew everything about the supernatural community, but their roles were always passive.

  "I just wanted people to respect me. To stop feeling sorry for me."

  "Feel sorry for you?"

  "Poor Penny. She can't even manage a good luck charm. Look at Penny, she's such a poser."

  "That's awful." I never considered how hard it must be to live around magic but not have any of your own.

  "When I found out Rick was a werewolf and he was interested in me, I thought maybe he was my ticket to respect."

  "Yes, about Rick."

  "He's wanted by the police, isn't he? That's why he ran from the man who was with you," Penny said.

  "Yes and no. You know Irene's a powerful witch, right?"

  Penny nodded.

  "Well, she's not the only one who's missing."

  "What do you mean?"

  "So far three girls are missing. Two are definitely powerful witches. I expect the third is as well."

  "And?"

  "We suspect the shifters might be behind it."

  "Are you serious?" Penny started pacing the room. Given that the kitchen area was small, it only took two steps before she had to turn around.

  "Have you heard about apex shifters being killed?" I asked gently.

  Penny stopped walking and nodded.

  "Well, there's a chance they might be using the witches. I don't know how exactly, but it's one idea."

  "And you think Rick knows about this?"

  "There's a strong possibility. He might have even been looking for another witch to grab."

  "Are you kidding me? You think he was just hanging around me to see if I had magic?"

&nb
sp; "He might have been," I said in a voice that could go either way.

  Penny thrusted her fists down at her side. "Why me? Why can't anyone ever just like me for being me? It's always about magic, isn't it? Whatever happened to liking a person for their personality? Because I have a sparkling personality! Just ask any of my customers at Macy's. I'm a gem!"

  "Speaking of work, why did you quit?"

  "That old bat, Mrs. Finley, tried to send me to the basement again. She said my flirtatious behavior was unbecoming, so I quit. Besides, I'm out of here anyway. Rick had me reconsidering, but now more than ever I'm gone."

  "Where are you going?"

  "California. Warm ocean breezes and sunshine, here I come. Better yet, no one knows who I am there. I should've left years ago."

  That wasn't a bad plan and it took a lot of courage to move cross country. I told Penny just as much before adding, "But before you leave, can you think of anywhere the shifters might be keeping the girls?"

  Penny got silent. "I don't know. Rick never took me anywhere but the club."

  "Did he ever mention any other buildings?"

  "No, but I know some of his other friends. I can see what I can find out."

  I didn't want Penny doing anything risky, which I had feeling she might do. Especially now knowing her desire to prove herself. "I don't think that's such a good idea," I said.

  "Don't worry. Those boys are ridiculously simple." Penny batted her fake eyelashes. "I'll be smart. I promise."

  I told Penny I still didn't like the idea, but she had her mind made up.

  "Just be safe, okay? And here," I took my tiger’s eye out of my purse and pressed it into Penny's palm. "For added protection," I said.

  Penny pocketed the stone.

  "Call me at the Hendrickses’ or call the New York City Police Department if you learn anything. Ask for Detective Cooper,” I said on my way out.

  "I will, I promise," Penny said after me.

  I met Michael back out front at his car. He was out of breath, hunched over, sucking in air. "Man, that kid was fast."

  "I'm impressed you even attempted to run down a werewolf."

  "I couldn't just let him get away without a chase." Michael stood up and I noticed his hand was bleeding.

  “Your hand,” I said pointing to the cut which was really bleeding at this time.

  “I didn’t even notice it,” he said, looking at it more closely.

  “It’s going to need stitches,” I said.

  “Nah, it’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t think so…”

  “Just trust me. So what did Penny have to say?"

  I was still concerned with Michael’s hand, but answered his question. "She didn't know anything about shifters kidnapping any witches. I found out she's a squib and she thought dating a werewolf would impress her parents."

  "Wow, a squib. You don't see many of those."

  "I know. Turns out it's pretty depressing growing up in the limelight. Hence, her packing up and heading west, but first, she's going to check in with Rick's friends and see if she can uncover anything."

  "You think that's a good idea?"

  "Not really. I gave her my tiger’s eye and told her to be careful. She promised me that she would and that she'd call us if she learned anything."

  Michael nodded and moved to get into his car. I followed suit and got in.

  “Can you grab me a napkin from the glove box there?” Michael asked.

  Again, I was thinking he needed something more than a napkin for that cut—things like antiseptic and tetanus shot came to mind, but I found a napkin and handed it over.

  Michael pressed the flimsy paper to the cut and closed his eyes. I watched as he mumbled a few words and the napkin seemed to glow for a minute, and then it was all over with as quickly as it happened. Michael lifted the napkin and while he still had a cut, it was now closed and the skin pink and puffy around the edges.

  “You’re a healer?” I asked.

  "Not really. I know a few spells," he replied.

  I waited for him to elaborate.

  "It helps Karen sleep better at night knowing I can fix myself up if need be."

  “Your sister is smart,” I replied.

  “I’ll tell her you think so.”

  Chapter 14

  It took us about twenty minutes with traffic to reach Michael's apartment. The location wasn't quite Lower Manhattan, but it wasn't Midtown either.

  "The apartment isn't much, but I'm close to my precinct," Michael said, unlocking the plain black wooden door.

  "Which one is that?" I asked, walking in after him.

  "Sixth. It's just up 10th Street here." Michael tossed his keys on the counter and kicked off his shoes like I imagined he did every time he came home. I followed suit, taking off my own shoes.

  The detective's apartment was the size of a shoebox, and I am only slightly exaggerating. It was one room—kitchen, living room, bedroom—all in one. The bathroom was down the hall. Michael lifted up his hide-a-bed and pushed it into the wall, securing it with the latch. Now the room had slightly more floor space, but there was no place to sit.

  "Sorry, I usually only sleep here," Michael said, and I knew he was telling the truth. The apartment was sparse, lacking the personal touches that a home usually had. I had a feeling if Mary was let loose in here she would have it feeling warm and cozy in no time. As it was now, the only personal item that stood out was a small black-and-white TV and a chest of drawers. A refrigerator and a single hotplate with a drip coffee maker was the extent of the detective's appliances.

  Michael unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them up.

  I set up the candles as Edith's spell required. A black one was in the center, a gray one in front and behind it. A yellow one to the left and a purple one to the right.

  "You ready to do this?" Michael asked.

  "Let's crack that shield," I replied.

  Michael lit the incense and then the black candle. Heads together, we read Edith's spell:

  Here stands the enemy all alone

  They are without friend

  Without help

  I pity thee.

  Then I lit the gray candles and together we said:

  Here lies sickness, doubt and worry

  It draws closer to you.

  Then the green and purple candles:

  Your new-found friend is fear

  and tension marches by your side.

  Do you hear them?

  They are coming.

  We sat there for a few minutes, per Edith's instructions, allowing the candles to burn and the spell to reach its target.

  "You ready to see if it worked?" he asked me.

  I nodded.

  Then Michael took my hands. The shock was expected. Warmth spread from my fingertips down to my toes. Like an electrical current with no outlet, the static built, buzzing through my veins. The feeling was electrifying to say the least, but I didn't let go.

  White light surrounded the world around us. Then the visions came. It was as if we were watching a movie being fast-forwarded. I took slow, calming breaths in hopes that my steady breathing would slow the vision down. But as my breath slowed, the channel changed. The movie did slow, but it wasn't showing me pictures of Irene or Melody. No, I was seeing Michael as a young boy, shooting sparks out of his fingers, and then laughing as he attempted to alter his own memory, but instead ended up shooting himself backwards on his behind. I looked up at Michael and saw that he was lost in his own movie and I wondered if his was playing a matinee of my life. That would be trickier as he was bound to notice the world looked a bit different.

  I squeezed his hand. "We need to focus together," I said. The individual movies streamed together, and the channel changed once more.

  We were in the capturer's mind.

  The insatiable desire for power came through, but so did the fear. Our spell was already causing the capturer to doubt themselves.

  "Is three witches enough?" the person
asked. “What if the spell isn't right? Can I trust the calculations? If I'm wrong, my life will be ruined. My career will be over!"

  I tried to push outside of the capturer's mind to see if we could get a visual on the person or their surroundings, but we were trapped inside the capturer’s mind. The fears continued to build until they panicked. "I can't do this. I need more power!" Then the person screamed. It was a feral cry. The shock forced Michael and I to let go.

  We sat there, stunned by what had just happened. Fear crept inside my head too.

  "What if our spell backfired?" I said quietly to Michael.

  "What do you mean?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

  "What if they hurt the girls or kidnap another one for more power?"

  Michael stared off into the distance.

  The phone rang a couple of feet away in the kitchen. At first, I blocked it out, but it continued to ring, cycle after cycle, until neither one of us could ignore it anymore.

  "Cooper here," Michael said when he answered it. "I see. Where at? No, don't send Mulroney. No, I will be there. Just give me ten minutes to make the drive." Michael hung up the phone and looked at me. "Blow out those candles and let's go. I have a new case. Homicide."

  True to his word, ten minutes later we were pulling up to the crime scene.

  "Oh no," I said as Michael's car came to a stop at the curb. Unless Rick had a doppelgänger, that was his body lying face-down, dead on the pavement.

  "What?" Michael asked, craning his neck over the steering wheel.

  "Look at your vic. It's Rick, isn't it?" I said. Even I was surprised that I had been able to identify the victim from the car.

  "Cripes, you're right." Michael rubbed his eyes.

  "That makes another shifter down," I said.

  "And he's werewolf."

  We got out of the car together, Michael walking right into the center where the uniforms were waiting, standing guard over the body, while I took to the fringes of the action. The scene had already started to draw a crowd. I stood there silently and listened to see what other information I could glean from the bystanders talking around me.