Page 13 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

THIRTEEN

Well, That Sucked

W hen Hernández pulled up, Detective Osso was standing out front, talking with a man in a white coverall that left only his pale face exposed. Osso walked over and opened the passenger door, leaning in before I could get out.

“Sofia, I’ve got this,” he rumbled in his deep bear voice. “You go home, be with Andie, and try to get some sleep. I’ll call you in a few hours. Okay?”

I felt her struggling, wanting to make sure her friend was taken care of, but she finally nodded and turned her head away from all the police activity. Osso stepped back and let me exit, gently closing the car door after me and tapping the roof.

Once Hernández had driven away, we walked up the path to the door. “This isn’t like the other one,” he said. “He was more violent this time.”

The cops on scene watched us approach with expressions varying from disgust to wary hope. Another person in white coveralls gave me paper booties to put on over my sneakers before I entered the house.

“There are too many people here,” I whispered, knowing he’d hear me. “It’s too chaotic. Can you bring me back later once they’ve all left?”

He paused at the entrance to the short hall. “I could, but can you try? Everyone is a little worked up right now. Gaby was one of our dispatchers. Everyone knew her. That’s why there are so many people milling around.”

Five people were standing in the living room, talking quietly. Two were in white coveralls, the rest in uniform. It felt like more in the small space. “Aren’t the extra people mucking up your crime scene?”

He tugged my sleeve, knowing not to touch me, and pulled me down the hall, past what looked like a craft room and a small bathroom. “The scene’s been processed. Like last time, they couldn’t find anything. Sofia said she was going to get you a little too loudly, so now they’re waiting to find out what you see.”

The officers knew I was a psychic—or that I said I was. Most didn’t believe in psychics and so thought I was a con woman who’d duped Hernández and Osso, which accounted for all the dirty looks.

“It’s a small house,” Osso continued. “If you need them out, I’ll kick them out, but I’d prefer not to. Emotions are high and distrust of you and now me is strong. I can keep them in the living room, and I’ll stand in the hall. All right?”

I nodded and blew out a breath before I walked in. The scene was too fresh. The terror, pain, and anger were already overpowering. The bed had been stripped, but I saw a speck of red on the mattress that looked like blood. Shaking out my arms, I braced for what was coming.

Taking off a glove, I stuffed it in my pocket and then leaned over the mattress, touching a fingertip to the red spot.

The sheets are ripped off and she startles awake, flying up in bed. Her eyes are huge in the dark, trying to see who’s there. The backhand comes fast and without warning. The force of the hit knocks her onto her side. Lip bleeding, eyes blinking, she scrambles to the far side of the bed, but he’s there. Grunting insults, he closes his fists and begins the beating in earnest.

She knows some self-defense moves and tries to fight him. Her aim is off in the dark, but she manages to smash her wrist into his nose. The cursing gets louder before she takes a punch to the abdomen that cuts off her air and throws her back onto the bed.

He falls on her, his hands going around her neck. Frantic, she hits his arms and then jabs her thumbs toward his eyes, but he sees them coming and has a longer reach. Hands still crushing her throat, he stretches away from her, turning his head to save his eyes. A fingernail cuts his cheek.

Clawing at his hands and kicking, she fights for her life. She feels spittle hit her face as he rages about her thinking she’s so important and how she’s really trash. She feels his erection against her hip and a new fear tears through her.

When her limbs lose strength, he leans down and whispers, “You’re all the same.” His breath is hot in her ear. “You think you have some say over me? Fucking bitch! You’re nothing. And you’re going to die nothing.” The last thing she sees as the world goes dark are lips pulled back in a grimace and a crooked eye tooth.

I blinked my eyes open, staring up at Osso, who was staring down at me. What the?—

“ Shit ,” he said. “Let me help you up. I’ll call Declan. Just a minute.”

I couldn’t breathe and started to panic.

He held up his hands. “It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you.”

A trickle of air made its way through my windpipe. Tears slid down the side of my face and pooled in my ears. Mouth open, gulping unsuccessfully at the air, I grabbed Osso’s forearm with my gloved hand and held on.

He grabbed me around the middle, making sure he wasn’t touching my skin, and hauled me to my feet. What—Oh. I remembered now. Gaby. That was why I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I slipped my glove back on as Osso led me down the hall away from that room.

A cluster of cops stood at the end of the hall, blocking the front door, staring. “What the fuck?” one of them breathed.

Osso waved them out of the way. “Let me get her outside.”

I thought I heard one of them say something about my neck, which was a concern of mine as well. It felt like it was on fire. The ringing in my ears made it hard to hear anything.

When we got to his SUV, he opened the passenger door and picked me up, depositing me on the seat. If I’d been able to talk, I’d have protested. Then again, I wasn’t positive I could have climbed in on my own. Someone ran up with a glass of water and Osso handed it to me.

I tried a small sip but ended up coughing. Osso was talking but I couldn’t hear him yet. I held up my hand, closed my eyes, and waited for it to pass. When I felt him take the cup from me, I realized my hand had been trembling too hard to hold it without spilling.

My breathing was finally easing when I heard tires squeal and then Declan was there, shouldering Osso out of his way. His gaze raced up and down, looking for injuries. When he got to my face, his shoulders dropped, and his hands came up to cradle my head.

“Ursula, what did you do to yourself?” he murmured.

“Not my fault,” I mostly mouthed.

“I know.” He kissed my forehead and then turned to Osso to take the cup from him. “Can you drink?”

I tried swallowing. It hurt like hell, but I did it. Nodding, I held out a hand and he placed the cup in it. I took a small sip and was able to get it down.

“Your neck is black and blue, and your left eye has burst blood vessels,” Declan told me.

“If it bothers you,” I whispered, “I can use a glamour spell to cover it.”

“Don’t, please,” Osso said. “You have an audience.”

I looked around Declan’s shoulder to see a loose group of cops watching me. Super.

Osso pulled his notebook from his pocket. “Can you tell me yet what you saw?”

I took another sip. It went down, so I nodded. My voice was a painful rasp, but I eventually got it out.

“You didn’t see him?” he asked.

“There was no light in her room,” I said.

He thought a moment and nodded. “Blackout curtains for when she works the night shift.”

“Then how did he see her?” Declan asked.

Osso looked back at me. “No flashlight this time?” He must have read Hernández’s report of the last scene, when the killer used a flashlight.

I shook my head. “I think I was seeing things from her perspective, and it was like the darkness was beating her. The only clear thing I saw was, as she died, his lips parted and his teeth were visible.” My fingers went to my mouth as I tried to remember which side it would have been. “His right eye tooth is crooked. It angles left, kind of pushing the next tooth.”

Shrugging, I added, “He was taller than her, but she seemed petite. And really, it was more of an impression that the blows were coming from above. He was at best a shadow in the dark.”

Osso flipped his notebook closed. “Thank you and sorry about this.” He gestured at all of me, but I got it. “If you think of anything else, let me know.”

“Okay.” I slid off the seat onto the pavement and Declan held a hand out to steady me.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

“Home! Shit! What time is it?” I had a shipping crew arriving at ten this morning.

Osso checked his watch. “Seven forty.”

“Oh.” I blew out a breath and leaned into Declan, who wrapped an arm around me. “I’m good then.”

Declan helped me into the passenger seat of his truck and then closed the door. As he walked around the back, I looked out the window at the cops who were still watching me. One of them shook his head and turned his back. A couple of others moved back into the house. Osso went to the man in the white coveralls. The man’s whole head was visible now. He looked over his shoulder at me and then, talking with Osso, walked back into the house.

Declan slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and then looked at my feet. “I like your new booties. Did you bring your backpack with you?”

Yes. Shit. Did I leave it in Hernández’s car? I tried to remember. “Detective Osso took it off my shoulder when I went into the bedroom.”

He patted my knee. “Hold tight. I’ll go get it.” As Declan jogged across the street, Osso came out the door, holding it. They spoke for a moment and then Declan returned. He put the backpack behind his seat and slid back in.

He took my hand, pushed up the sleeve, and kissed my wrist. “Osso’s phone call scared the life out of me,” he said, pulling out onto the road. “He’s a man of few words, but two of them could have been she’s okay .” He shook his head and turned onto the main road toward the gallery.

“I was driving back from Big Sur when he called. I was close to home, which is how I got there so fast.”

“Did you sleep in your fur in the woods last night?” I asked.

He glanced over, looking suspicious. “How did you know that?”

“Psychic. Duh.” Breathing more easily, I grinned. “It just came to me last night. I was worried about you driving home on curvy roads when you were exhausted and then I imagined you curled up in the woods, sleeping under a tree.”

“You’re a wily one,” he said.

I watched the ocean pop in and out of view as he drove across intersections. “Back there. I know you were focused on me, but did you notice anything about the cops?”

“No.” He glanced over again. “Should I have?”

I went back to staring out the window. “Not sure. Something felt off, though.”