Smoke on the Water (34 page)

Sebastian considered the worn Levi's, flannel shirt, and boots. Hadn't McHugh been hoofing around in expensive athletic shoes the last time they'd seen him?

“Did you rob a construction worker?” Sebastian asked.

“If you like.”

From the man's expression, Sebastian deduced he'd
killed
a construction worker.

“You'd better hope they come,” Roland said.

“I hope they don't.”

“I
will
kill you.”

“Better than your killing them.”

McHugh's brow creased. “Why wouldn't you value your life over theirs? You barely know them.”

“I barely know you, but I still want you dead.”

“You don't understand what they did to me.”

“They were infants. They couldn't do more than puke or pee on you.”

The demon's lip curled in disgust.

“Grow a pair,” Sebastian ordered.

Roland's eyes flared, flames seemed to leap in their center. “My wife died screaming. My child never drew breath. Because of that witch.”

“No. They died because of you. Because
you
didn't get help in time.”

For an instant, sympathy flickered. Sebastian understood what guilt could do to a man. How losing someone you loved could make you think crazy things. However, it had made Roland McHugh do evil things and entice others to do them too. Charles Manson had never been proven a murderer, only an instigator of it. Yet still he rotted behind bars and always would. McHugh deserved no less; he deserved more.

A wolf howled—so close all of them jumped except the demon. He smiled. “Prudence.”

That smile gave Sebastian the heebie-jeebies. There was lust in that smile—whether for the woman she'd been or the death he planned for the wolf she had become, it didn't matter. The expression was as nasty as he was.

Someone banged on the door. Roland jabbed a bony finger in that direction, and Deux disappeared into the encroaching darkness. The door opened. Silence descended. Both Roland and Zoe frowned.

“Deux?” Zoe called.

Nothing.

“Go,” Roland ordered.

Zoe hesitated.

“Haven't I promised you beauty, wealth, and life everlasting?”

The guy was a real piece of work.

“You are safe,” he said, his voice that of a TV evangelist. “Have no fear.”

Zoe went. The silence deepened.

“You should probably have brought along more than two minions.”

Shouts rang out, then shots.

Roland grinned as wide as the Grinch. “I did.”

*   *   *

We circled around, came in from the forest and not the highway, sent the wolves ahead to scout.

“He's got an army positioned all around that factory.” Elise stood behind a tree. She'd shift back as soon as we had a plan. A werewolf was a better weapon than a virologist. She couldn't throw theorems at them, but she could tear them into several smaller pieces. I wish I could watch.

“How are we going to get in?” Franklin asked.

“You aren't.” I lifted the chalice. “We are.”

My sisters held their items—wand for Raye, athame for Becca.

Raye's gaze lit on the pentacle carved into my chalice. She pulled the necklace over her head and offered it to me. “You should have this.”

“You sure?”

“In the vision, the crone with the chalice also had the pentacle.”

She had. There'd also been something about her that bothered me, but I still couldn't get my mind around what it was. I took the necklace.

Bobby, Owen, and Franklin held sniper rifles. Franklin had brought an impressive arsenal in the trunk of his sedan.

“How are we going to keep them occupied so you can slip into the factory without catching a stray bullet?” Franklin asked.

I lifted my gaze to the moon just peeking over the tree line and tucked my chalice into the waistband of my jeans. Raye and Becca did the same with their magical items. Then I held my hands out to my sisters.

“No need,” I said, and when they touched me we disappeared.

 

Chapter 24

We knew the spell. We had the items. We'd seen the lay of the land. What we hadn't seen was Zoe and Deux.

The instant we transported into the most shadowed, remote corner of the factory, I stifled a curse at the sight of them. What were they doing here?

Visions weren't exact. They changed depending upon the situation and the people involved in it. What they did. How others reacted to it.

I'd also brought about the vision of Sebastian on my own rather than receiving it from wherever it was the images came. I might have seen the situation before I was meant to, and then it was altered after the fact.

Nevertheless, they were here, and we had to do something about them. It was going to be difficult enough to perform the spell, which would require speech, and keep Roland off our necks long enough to finish. We weren't going to be able to deal with all three of them and cast the spell at the same time.

Raye tapped me on the shoulder, leaned in and whispered: “Send me outside. I'll take care of them.”

If we waited too long there might be more of Roland's followers than we could handle. I had to trust that Raye knew what she was doing.

I touched her, thought of the outside of the building, and she was gone. I was getting really good at transportation. I hoped we were all getting very good at spells.

Things went quickly from that point on—Raye knocked. Deux answered. Silence followed, then so did Zoe. I listened with half an ear to Sebastian and Roland converse. At least Sebastian was conscious, and he sounded coherent.

Roland seemed to think that his army was a secret. Excellent. Every little bit helped.

Raye returned, slipping silently through the shadows. I spread my hands in question. She flicked hers in answer. She'd tossed them far, far away. I hoped they landed in Afghanistan or maybe an Ebola-ridden African nation.

One of them had tried to smother me—I figured on Zoe, she was the type. But both of them had pretended to be caregivers, and considering where we'd just found them, their only care was murder and mayhem.

We waited for Roland to go after his missing minions. He wouldn't be gone long, but we'd get as much of the spell done as we could before he came back and found us. Then he was all Henry's. Our father had been waiting centuries to ass-kick this guy.

Except Roland didn't leave. That was the trouble with minions. It didn't matter if you misplaced a few, there were always a whole lot more.

I motioned to Becca, who'd found and brought along a flat stone similar to the one we'd used on the ridge as an altar. She set it down.

“We join together the power of blood-linked elemental witches.”

We whispered the spell, yet still Roland heard. We'd known that he would.

“You need to run,” Sebastian shouted.

Roland punched him in the jaw as he went past, and Sebastian slumped.

I cried out and Raye cut me a glance. “Focus. Start again.”

“We join together the power of blood-linked elemental witches.”

We set our items atop the stone. Athame. Wand. Pentacle. Chalice.

“He comes,” we murmured as one.

Raye's eyes cut in a direction where there was nothing. When Roland flew backward and smacked into the far wall then landed on the cement, I knew that empty space held Henry.

Despite hitting brick and then falling onto concrete, Roland got up. We lifted our items, one for each of them, two for me. The chalice seemed to buzz with power against my palm, but from the pentacle I felt nothing.

“Go back from whence you came. Banished.” Our joined voices rose, louder and stronger with every word. “Now and forever.”

The three of us waited for Roland to start screaming as he was pulled into hell. Instead, he began to laugh. “You think magic will work on me? I'm immortal. I'll be here until the end of time.”

Outside, gunfire erupted.

“And I'll never run out of fools willing to listen. My army will multiply. Eventually the
Venatores Mali
will overrun the world.” He started toward us.

This time Becca shot fire from her fingertips. It hit him and rolled off like rain.

I took a step in his direction, thinking I'd send him to that Ebola-ridden country. Not that disease would hurt him either, but at least he wouldn't be here.

“No,” Sebastian croaked. “Do not touch him.”

Did he know something I didn't? What if I tried to transport Roland, and he ended up transporting me, or dragging me with him? I didn't know what kind of powers he had, but as I didn't want to touch him—at all, ever—I hesitated.

Raye swept her hand upward, lifting Roland off the ground. He dangled in the air, legs pumping, arms flailing. I wished for a convenient cliff to drop him from, but that probably wouldn't kill him either.

“Go,” she said. “Get Sebastian out of here.”

“We aren't leaving you.” Becca glanced at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

“I'll transport him to the others.” I hurried to Sebastian's side, started tugging on the ropes, got really dizzy and nearly fell on my face.

“Willow? You okay?”

I opened my eyes. My cheek was against his knee. I wasn't sure how that had happened.

“You've done too much.” Becca was there, helping me untie Sebastian. “We all have. Magic drains energy. We're gonna have to regroup, recharge.”

“You're going to have to do more than that,” Roland said.

I tried to ignore him, but he was right. The spell hadn't worked. What were we going to do now?

Becca and I helped Sebastian to his feet. He was wobbly. So was I. Becca looked pale enough to wobble too.

“I'll be right behind you.” Raye's eyes narrowed on the demon. “As soon as I drop him on his head.”

“That won't do a damn thing,” I said.

“It'll amuse the hell out of me,” Raye muttered.

Outside, the moon poured down. The gunfire had petered off, though a shot sounded in the distance. As no bullets winged our way, I had to think that all the minions had been drawn elsewhere or killed.

A cry from Raye had us pausing mid-drag. Before I could say “Go” Becca growled, burst into flames, and became a wolf. She was getting really good at that too.

Sebastian's knee buckled, but he managed to get it back under him and not drag us to the ground. Becca disappeared into the factory. I considered propping Sebastian against a wall and following her, then a white wolf and a black bounded inside too. Snarling and slavering ensued.

Raye emerged and took Becca's place with Sebastian. “I think Mom's enjoying tearing pieces out of him a little too much.”

“That's impossible.” There couldn't be too much enjoyment in that.

Headlights careened around the bend, and the Suburban skidded to a stop. Owen and Franklin spilled free, took Sebastian between them and hauled him toward the tailgate.

“Is he gone?” Franklin asked.

I lifted my eyebrows at Raye. If a bullet hadn't ended Roland McHugh, I doubted wolves could.

She shook her head.

We piled into the truck and sped away.

*   *   *

Sebastian lay in the cargo area, trying to catch his breath. From the sharp pain that caused, he thought Deux might have broken a few ribs.

“You shouldn't have come.”

Willow, who had climbed into the back along with him, touched his cheek very gently. “He would have killed you.”

“Better me than you.”

“Shh.” She traced her thumb across his fat lip.

“He isn't going to stop.”

“Neither are we.”

“From now on we stay together,” Franklin ordered.

“No argument here,” Sebastian said.

“What happened?” Bobby asked.

Raye told him. It didn't take long. Nevertheless, Sebastian shut his eyes—they hurt—and then he drifted along on pain and his concussion as he listened.

“What happened with you guys?” Raye asked when she finished. “We heard shots.”

“Pru wandered off and someone saw her,” Bobby said.

“I doubt my mother wandered off. She was probably scouting the perimeter.”

“Whatever. When all hell broke loose, she ran toward the factory and Elise followed.”

“I can't believe neither one of them got shot.”

“A black wolf is going to be pretty hard to hit in the dark,” Franklin said. “And Elise isn't going to die unless someone was packing silver bullets.”

“What would happen if they were?” Sebastian asked, curious.

“Great balls of fire.”

Bobby slammed on the brakes. Everyone gasped. Sebastian sat up, wincing. If Roland McHugh stood in the road, surrounded by a halo of headlights, ready to kill them all, Sebastian didn't want to be lying flat on his back like an invalid.

However, the headlights revealed three wolves—black, white, cinnamon. They all glistened as if they were wet. It wasn't until they jumped into the cargo area too that Sebastian smelled the blood.

“Dead?” Raye asked.

Pru shook her head. Becca snorted. Elise just sat there being exquisite.

“I guess they tore him up pretty good before he went poof.”

“How is he doing that?” Willow asked.

“Demon with black magic minions,” Raye answered.

“I wish I knew more about them.”

“No, you don't,” Franklin said. “They're icky.”

“Icky,” Willow repeated. “Is that an FBI term?”

“Yes.”

Sebastian laughed, then stopped when his ribs shrieked. He lay back down in a hurry.

“Becca.” Willow's expression reflected her concern. “Can you do something for him?”

The cinnamon wolf swung her snout in Sebastian's direction. It was an odd feeling to have those fangs so close to his face, but the familiar eyes of Becca were gentle and kind. She licked his forehead and the blistering headache and some of the dizziness faded.