"Oh?" Intrigued, but not suspicious. "So what brings you to me?"
Another smile, this one wry. "Well, I'd say you came recommended as the top witch of the dark arts and I couldn't even imagine asking anyone else, but blatant flattery doesn't work so well on people outside of Hollywood."
She laughed, relaxing now. "We have our egos, but they don't impede brain function."
"Truth is that, yes, you came highly recommended, but when I took a close look at the possibilities, you seemed the most-" a mock throat clearing, "-approachable."
She laughed hard at that. "Now, that I believe. Between the weirdos and the recluses, it can be hard finding a viable contact among our bunch."
"I was also told that there might be something I can offer you in return. Which is what I want to do. I'm not asking for favors."
"Oh? Now I am intrigued. Can I get you something to drink before you satisfy my curiosity? Coffee? Tea? Soda? Bottled water?"
I opted for the water. There are too many things a witch can do with a brewed beverage.
When she came back, I gave her a version of the story, with this fellow necromancer being bothered by spirits who couldn't make contact. So far, I said, my investigation suggested a magical explanation.
When I finished, Molly nodded, thoughtful, then said, "I'm sure you've been told that doesn't sound like the results of normal ritual sacrifice."
"I have."
"Perhaps I can help but-" She met my gaze, eyes deceptively mild. "You offered an exchange?"
"I've heard you lost someone this year," I said. "Your common-law partner, I believe. A half-demon."
She hesitated, gaze down, then nodded slowly. "Mike. Yes."
I switched to my "dealing with the grief-stricken" voice. "If you'd like to make contact with him, I could try. With articles belonging to him plus access to his grave site, there's a good chance I can do it. Not perfect. But maybe a… ninety percent chance."
Molly said nothing, just stared down into the glass cupped in her hands. Still grieving, as Savannah had said. Or maybe wondering if I was trying to con her.
I hurried on. "If I don't make contact, I'll owe you. I will contact someone for you. Guaranteed."
Still she stared into her glass, her thumbs now caressing the sides.
Unlike humans, supernaturals know there's an afterlife. There must be, or there couldn't be necromancers. Through us, they also know that most ghosts are happy enough. If you know this, then perhaps contacting a loved one isn't such a wise idea. What if he's stopped grieving for his lost life, and you only rip open those wounds? What if you rip the scabs off your own grief?
"If you'd rather not contact him, maybe there's something else-" Her head snapped up. "Why wouldn't I want to contact him?"
"I just meant- I'm not trying to renege on the offer. I certainly will try, if that's what you want. But if this isn't what you want, then I'd completely understand-"
"Would you?"
Molly's voice had gone cold. She set her drink aside, deliberately. My gaze swung to the door. She followed it and gave a brittle smile. "Thinking of leaving already, Jaime? And why might that be?" I laughed. "Leaving? No. I was just wondering-" I leapt from the chair. Her hand flew up, lips moving in a sorcerer's knockback spell. I tried to duck, as Lucas taught me, but wasn't fast enough. Instead of hitting me in the torso, it slammed into my shoulder, whipping me around. My feet flew out. I saw the edge of the coffee table sailing up to meet me. Tried to twist. Too late. Impact. Pain. Darkness.
I AWOKE to the blast of a car horn. Something held me down, tightening around my wrists and ankles when I moved. I opened my mouth to call out, but tasted plastic and glue.
Everything was as dark as when I'd fallen. Blindfolded? I move my head, testing for that pulling sensation against my temples. Sadly, I know what a blindfold feels like. Know what being kidnapped feels like too. For a second, that's all I could think: Goddamn it, not again.
But when I moved, instead of a blindfold, I felt something scratchy against my bare hands and face. Like an old blanket. Bound, gagged and covered.
The floor vibrated beneath me. The steady hum of moving tires. I remembered the horn blast that woke me. I was in a vehicle. In the trunk- No, I wouldn't be able to see light in a trunk. I pictured the car in Molly's drive. An SUV.
She'd bound and gagged me, then managed to haul me into the garage, drove in, put me in the back and was now taking me…
Where?
Well, I was pretty sure it wasn't out for daiquiris.
I'd taken self-defense courses. They'd given me more confidence than skill, but one piece of advice I remembered was that if someone tries to get you into a vehicle, you do everything you can to fight it, because you can be damned sure that wherever he's taking you, it's someplace private, to do something you won't like.
I had to get out before Molly-or whoever was driving-got wherever we were going. But how? I was trapped. I had no spells. No demonic powers. No superhuman strength. I was just a necromancer. Defenseless.
Bullshit.
Ordinary women got out of situations like this all the time. Okay, maybe not this exact situation, but if you took the black witch out of the equation, it wasn't that much different than any kidnapping. I wasn't sure what the statistics were for escaping a kidnapper, but I told myself they were pretty good.
As I shifted, the blanket scratched my cheek and it made me think of why I was covered in one-because I wasn't in a trunk, meaning someone could look into Molly's SUV, see the rear seat folded down and a bound woman in the luggage compartment. Goal one, then? Remove the blanket.
I'd just moved when a voice stopped me.
"You got home from school okay? And your sister?"
Molly. In the driver's seat. On her cell phone. Talking to her children. I allowed myself a flutter of relief before I started wiggling again, squirming out from under the blanket.
"There's a box of Twinkies in the cupboard over the stove, but don't let Tish see where you found them. They're meant for school. Tell her it's a special treat and Mommy's sorry she wasn't home to see her after school."
A sliver of light appeared above my eyes. I kept wriggling until the edge of the blanket slid down past my nose, then took a deep breath of cool air. In front of me Molly's head was hidden behind the headrest, only her arm visible as she held her cell phone.
"I might be late, but I'll pick up dinner and call you on the way to find out what you want."
The blanket slid down to my neck. There. Finally. Another deep inhale through my nose as I relaxed. Then I looked up… way up…
at the tinted window, and realized the chances of anyone peering in from a passing transport and seeing me here were next to none. I had to get closer to that window.
Using my feet, I pushed toward the side. Then I twisted around so I could use my bound hands to pull myself up-
Molly's gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.
"Hon? I have to go. I'll call you as soon as I can. Look after your sister, okay? Love you."
She disconnected, then, without a word to me, cast a spell. An energy bolt slammed into me, and I dropped into darkness again.
CAPTIVE AUDIENCE
I WOKE TO MOLLY SLAPPING MY FACE.
At first, I could only moan. Everything hurt, as if I'd been dragged over rocky ground. As I inhaled, that's what I smelled: damp earth. Trees too, that crisp odor of autumn. And another scent, fainter and not nearly so pleasant-rotting vegetation and brackish water.
Quiet. Very quiet. The sigh of rustling leaves yet to fall. The soft, almost tentative call of a bird. The creak of a broken branch in the wind.
Lying on the ground. Damp earth, the ripe smell of it surrounding me. Something digging into my spine-a rock or a twig.