Page 12

Chapter

Eleven

M y chest tightened. Margaux’s words echoed in my ears.

I reached for my phone.

Ronan hadn’t texted.

“Betty?” Ida’s voice, which had carried a note of humor a moment before, went small and quiet. “You’ve gone pale.”

“I’m fine.” I scrolled through my address book for the number of the pub.

Karen Zurka, Ronan’s assistant manager, answered on the fourth ring. She was a sixtyish rat shifter who, according to Ronan, “takes no bullshit.”

“Ronan’s Pub.”

“Hey, Karen, it’s Betty Lennox. Is Ronan around?” I was proud of myself for how steady I sounded when my gut felt like the inside of a washing machine during the spin cycle.

“You know, it’s funny you called. He was supposed to be here this morning to receive an order but never showed. The distributor called me when he couldn’t get hold of him. Hang on a sec.” She spoke to someone in the background. I picked up the words broken fingers and shorted us .

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was talking to Gladys. I asked her to come in since Ronan’s still out. I’ve got to go home and get some sleep. I’m working tonight,” she said. “I was on my way out when you called. Only picked up the phone because I was hoping it was the boss calling, though I don’t know why he wouldn’t call my cell.”

I took a quick drink of tea to moisten my suddenly dry mouth. Where are you, Ronan?

“Will you ask him to call me if you hear from him, please?”

“Sure.” Karen repeated the request to Gladys, who took over the phone.

“Hey, Betty, I was about to call.”

“Have you heard from Ronan?” I asked.

“No. I thought maybe he’d stayed with you last night, and whatever you did to him made him forget about the order this morning.” She chuckled.

“He’s not with me, Gladys. Have you ever known him to do something like this?” I pushed my plate away, no longer able to eat.

“No. But everyone forgets things sometimes. You sound distressed. Everything okay?”

No. Ronan is missing, and I feel like the walls of my skull are pressing in.

“I’m fine. Call if you hear from him. Please.”

She agreed, and we hung up.

Maya spoke first. “Ronan Pallás is missing, too?”

I dragged my gaze to hers, and she sat up straighter in her seat. Margaux’s eyes went wide. Ida went straight to her feet, walked around the table and bent to speak in my ear.

“Your eyes,” she said. There was no point whispering. As a rat shifter, Maya had excellent hearing. All shifters did, mostly.

“What about them?” I muttered.

“They’re glowing silver.”

“When did they start doing that?” Margaux asked. She kept her voice soft and soothing, as if she were afraid to anger me .

“A few weeks ago.”

“When you started absorbing the soil?” Ida asked.

“Yes.” I sent her a thanks for broadcasting that one out into the world, Ida look, and she clapped her hand over her mouth and returned to her chair.

“You mean absorbing magic from the soil,” Margaux said, “not actually drawing it into your body.” She blinked when I shook my head. “You pull the soil into your body ? Literally?”

“It heats up and turns into a sort of steam, and I absorb it. Apparently, my eyes also turn silver, which is the color of my magic.” I glanced at Ida, who still had her hand over her mouth. Her expressive blue eyes were filled with guilt, and that was the last thing I wanted, so I added, “And the color of my bestie’s hair.”

She lowered her hand and smiled a little.

“I’ve never heard of anything like that, and I’ve studied elementals extensively,” Margaux said. “Earth elementals in particular, since Desmond joined the coven.”

“Maybe it would be a good thing to keep under our hats for now,” Ida said, without a trace of irony.

“Sure, sure,” Margaux said, but she barely appeared to be listening. “Under our hats.”

I scooped up the list, folded it, and slid it into my pocket. “One last thing, Maya. I won’t force you to tell me, but I’d really like to know. What’s in the bag?”

“The … bag?” Maya looked confused for a moment. “Oh.” She rose from the table.

The kitchen spilled out into the living room, so we were all able to watch her. There was no hesitation in her, no fear. I’d half expected her to crumple at the request, given her emotional state last night, but her run with Kale and Denzel had changed her. She seemed stronger now.

“I’m not forcing you to show me,” I said. “I want that to be clear. If you absolutely don’t want to, I won’t?—”

“It’s fine. It’s just something Desmond was weirdly protective about. I grabbed it because I wanted to get back at him. You can have it.” She brought the bag into the kitchen and set it on her seat. It hit the chair with a solid thud. She reached inside and pulled out the item. Dropped it on the table.

“He made me polish it with this concoction every day. The cover dries out, apparently.” She took out a small, flat pot and set it on the table beside the item. “I don’t know why, and I’m not sure I even want to know.” She shivered. “That’s what I did, you know. The whole time I was under his spell, he had me cleaning the house, taking care of his creepy magic stuff, and cooking meals for him. He barely spoke to me except to give me instructions and forbid me to shift. Isn’t that strange?”

Margaux, Ida, and I stared at the object on the table.

It was a book.

But not just any book.

It was the godsdamn Weret-hekau Maleficium .

“Floyd told me it was for a powerful favor. I never imagined it was with a member of the coven,” I said.

Margaux sat in the passenger seat of my Mini, arms folded over her chest, mouth cinched, eyes forward. She hadn’t said a word since Maya brought out the Weret-hekau Maleficium .

“You realize that you don’t polish the cover of a book religiously unless you’re worshipping it. That ‘concoction’ he gave her was laced with his own blood. Let’s not tell Maya that part until she’s had some time to heal.”

Margaux continued saying nothing.

“I secured it in a null bag,” I said. “It shouldn’t be able to call out to its supplicant.” Of course, it had been out in the open all night, so that might not mean anything. I only said it because I’d been casting around for things to say since Margaux went silent .

“Look, I know it sucks to find out you’ve been used by Alpha Floyd, but we have to focus on tracking down Bronwyn right now.” And Ronan, though I wasn’t entirely certain he was missing, even if it did seem that way.

At the mention of Bronwyn, Margaux dropped her arms, letting her hands hang loosely in her lap. Her mouth softened, and there was the slightest shine to her eyes. Tears?

“Let’s go to Wicked first,” Margaux said. “If she’s hiding, she’ll be there.”

I put the car in reverse then drove out of the lot, scattering rocks. I really needed to re-gravel the lot. Or pave it. Basically, it needed work.

One day, I might have a few minutes where I wasn’t in danger—or trying to find someone in danger—to figure it out.

“Desmond would be a fool not to be watching you,” Margaux said. “I placed a protection spell over this car. It won’t stop us from crashing, but it should keep us from being killed by magical or mundane trauma.”

“Oh. That’s what you were doing.”

“It’s a complicated spell. It takes concentration. And you blathered to me all the way through it so it took longer.” She lifted her chin and stared out the passenger window.

“I thought you were throwing a fit because you found out your coven had been plotting against you for months.”

“ Throwing a fit ?” She said it like the words tasted bitter. “I don’t throw fits.”

“Well, it’s not like you said anything, either. Clue me in next time you’re casting, and I’ll leave you to it.”

She sniffed. Nodded. “Do you think Ronan Pallás is missing, too?”

I squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened. “I don’t know, but I’m worried.”

“Worry seems to be the theme of the day.” I felt her gaze on me for a long moment. “Let’s find Bronwyn and then we’ll look for Ronan. We’re going to need all the help we can get if we intend to take on the pack.”

We drove the rest of the way to Wicked in relative silence. KLXX played Ambrosia’s “Biggest Part of Me” followed by “When I Need You” by Leo Sayer, and finally, Carole King’s “It’s Too Late.” I shut it off when the opening strains of Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” started up.

“It’s odd how that radio station plays the most appropriate—or pointedly inappropriate in some cases—songs. It’s as if the DJ is uniquely attuned to the listener.” The witch waved her hand as if to diminish the seriousness of her claim. “That’s impossible, of course. The person would have to be empathetic, psychic, and omnipresent—a god.”

“Margaux, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of my car, and I haven’t driven us straight into an irrigation canal. Nothing is impossible.”

“You have a point. However, I still believe it’s highly unlikely that the local oldies station is being run by a god.”

I pulled into the lot behind Wicked and killed the engine. There was a stack of boxes outside the rear entrance. It seemed the whole missing the morning delivery thing was turning into an epidemic.

“That answers one question,” I said. “She’s not just ignoring her phone.”

“You thought she was?”

“Thought? No. Hoped? Yes,” I replied. “What now?”

“We go inside and take a look around.” Margaux dug a set of keys from her purse. “Bronwyn gave me these when I filled in for her one morning so she could visit the dentist. She told me to hold onto them in case she lost hers.”

“You didn’t demand to have a set for the coven?” I asked.

“No.” She wrinkled her nose. “That would be an unscrupulous use of power.”

I followed Margaux up to the back entrance. It was clear I had a lot of preconceived ideas about the woman because I despised her. Used to despise her.

No, I still do, I just…

Hell.

While she unlocked the door and whispered a chant to disable the alarm, I tried calling Ronan again. My call went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even ring.

“He still hasn’t answered?” She stepped aside and allowed me to enter.

“No.”

“We’ll find him.” Her expression, usually a cross between bored, evil queen, and evil, evil queen, softened. She smoothed a stray hair out of her face and picked up one of the boxes on the doorstep.

I picked up two, and together we brought in Bronwyn’s delivery, whatever it was. There was no return address, and the packages were oddly light given their size.

“It’s fabric,” Margaux said. “A fae blend that looks like heavy brocade with the weight of a feather. I recognize the shipping label. Some of the Druids in the area make use of it.”

Once we’d brought in the boxes, we weaved through the shelves in the storeroom and headed for the front of the store. “Best not to speak too much. I’m not entirely sure what she’s got stocked in here right now,” she whispered.

Bronwyn had once told me not to make direct eye contact with some of the items in her storeroom, so I knew Margaux wasn’t being dramatic.

I shut the door to the back room behind us, and Margaux made a fast dash to the secret office behind the counter. She rearranged the stones the way Bronwyn had, and the door opened.

“How do you know how to do that?”

“I told you,” she said, “I filled in for her.”

“You said once . Bronwyn gave you the combo to her hidey hole after you worked one measly shift? ”

Margaux didn’t respond. Shady-ass witch.

The room looked like it had the last time I’d seen it. Except for one thing.

No Bronwyn.

“Did she leave anything here that might help us find her?” I rifled through the papers on her desk, but it all looked like regular business type stuff. Invoices, bills, and bank statements.

Margaux faced me. “I’m going to ask you to do something.”

“From the tone of your voice, my answer is going to be a resounding no.”

She set her shoulders, gave a brief nod, and walked out of the office, taking the door with her .

I circled the desk and ran my hand over the wall where the door had been. There was no opening, no indentation, nothing.

“ Margaux ,” I yelled, “ what the hell are you doing ?”

Her muffled voice came through the wall. “We can search for her in all the places on Maya’s list, which you know is going to take all day, or we can find her now. Every moment we waste is a moment we don’t have to look for your Ronan.”

“Don’t do this.”

“We know Desmond has her, Betty. The only way to find her fast is for me to face him. It wasn’t enough for him to humiliate me in front of the coven. He knows I could take it back by force if I chose to. He wants me alone. He wants the gloves off. He wants me dead.”

Shuffling sounds, like someone moving things around in the next room, snagged my attention.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer for a few seconds. Every one of them felt like an hour. I checked my cell phone. Ronan still hadn’t called. He was missing, and I was trapped in this stupid office. I wanted to kick the shit out of Margaux, the wall, and myself for trusting her.

“I’ve left a charm for you on the counter.” Margaux sounded distant, as if she was moving away. “You can let yourself out of the room now. A simple open chant will do it. Don’t forget to put the charm on, Betty. Don’t be stubborn about this.”

I pulled myself together, recited the abierto ahora chant my abuela had taught me as a child, and stumbled out of the office.

She was gone. On the counter lay a silver chain with a matching coin-sized charm.

Witch charms were distinctive, personalized to the witch. Mine were made with spelled herbs between pressed glass. Margaux’s were thin metal circles she imbued with power.

I threw on the necklace and had started to run to the backroom, when a vision appeared in front of me. It wasn’t like Princess Leia beamed from R2D2 asking Obi Wan for help; it was more like a minimized screen on a computer monitor. I could see in front of me, but the picture was down at the bottom right of my vision, and if I focused on it for a few seconds, it went “full screen mode” and blocked my sight completely.

“Margaux?”

“Good. You put on the charm. I felt it link. I can’t see or hear you, but you can see through my eyes and hear me. Pay attention. I have a feeling I might only have one shot at this, and even that might fail.”

“Are you in my car?” I asked, forgetting that she couldn’t hear me.

“Sorry to steal your Mini, but desperate times and all that.” The turn signal clicked, and I watched her turn left. I knew where she was going, had known it the moment she locked me in the office.

“Desmond has the answers we need, I’m certain of it. I’m going to confront him and try to get him talking. He’s going to hurt me. Do not interfere, Betty. This is necessary.”

“Godsdamn it, Margaux. We could’ve worked out a better plan.” My voice echoed in the empty store. Even to my own ears, it sounded sad.

“I might not have the chance to tell you this later, so I’m going to do it now.” The steering wheel spun under her hands as she made another left .

“Your mother caused her own death. Nothing I said or did could’ve stopped her, and Betty, you had better believe I tried. I begged. I bargained. I offered to leave the coven and lend her my own power for the spell, but she could not be reasoned with.”

Tears pricked my eyes.

“Lila was obsessed with worry about your safety. She was unconvinced your grandfather was enough to protect you from what was coming—especially after he’d been expelled from the otherworlds for a century. She believed there was only one way to do it.”

Why hadn’t she told me this before? I had so many questions.

“The demon who appeared the night you made the deal for Alpha Pallás’s book. You didn’t summon him, and it wasn’t an accident that he showed up. He was looking for her—no, he was hunting her.” She sniffed, and her voice quavered. “He must’ve realized she was gone and decided you were the next best thing.”

Belial . “He said he killed her,” I whispered.

“Imagine my horror when that damn lying monster appeared. I recognized him from Lila’s description. He didn’t even attempt to hide his true form, prideful wretch.” Margaux’s voice hardened. “He didn’t kill her, of course. That was a lie. The spell killed her.”

“Why was he hunting her?” I asked, knowing she couldn’t hear.

“Lila died because she put every last drop of power into a spell that would ensure your safety and the safety of future Lennox generations. And she did it because she felt guilty for what she’d brought into the family line. She felt guilty for falling in love. She felt guilty for what that love had done to you.”

Done to me?

The click of the turn signal and a squeal of brakes brought my full awareness back to Margaux’s drive. She was in Desmond’s neighborhood. I recognized the houses.

“There’s more. There are a couple dozen or so hex bags buried on your property. Leave them in place for now. They’re there to protect you.”

“No can do, Margaux,” I muttered, “That ship has sailed. ”

“However, the only way to bring back your saguaro guardians is to dig the bags up and destroy them. It sounds like I’m contradicting myself.” She slowed and pulled over a few houses down from Desmond’s, close to where I’d parked two nights ago. “I’m not. When you’re at full strength, you have to expel and destroy the hex bags then anchor the roots of the largest saguaro to your own lifeforce. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you have to do it to connect with the soil. That’s what Lila told me.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “There’s not enough time to tell you the rest. I should’ve made you listen before, when there was more.”

Yes, she should have. Then again, would I have listened? I’d been so damn angry.

“Go to your grandfather. He doesn’t know everything, but he certainly knows more about her enemies than I do. And you need to know who and what your father was.”

She was still in the car, staring straight at Desmond’s house.

“She loved you, Betty. And she knew you loved her. She knew that if she’d even hinted she needed your help, you’d have come running. That’s why she did it the way that she did. So none of us could help her.” She cleared her throat and let out a long breath. “She was my best friend. You have a best friend. If Ida put herself in the same predicament, wouldn’t you have moved heaven and hell to save her?”

Of course I would have. And though I’d spent three long years hating her guts, I believed Margaux had tried to stop Mom. There was no reason for her to lie about it now.

“I don’t blame you for hating me. I lied to you. I did it because it was Lila’s last request of me, and I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m sorry, Betty. For everything.”

She opened the car door and stepped out onto the street. “I wanted so badly to save her, but I couldn’t. I won’t make that mistake with Bronwyn. I’m depending on you to find her if I can’ t, Betty.”

“Margaux, don’t do this.”

“And I’ll tell you one last thing. If you need help, there’s someone you can call. He’ll hate it, but he’ll come. Tell him it’s to save Bronwyn. Tell him it was Margaux’s last request. Tell him, we’re even after this.”

“Tell who?” I whispered.

“That person is Mason Hartman.”