A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) (37 page)

G
omez, King, and Dexx left in Jackie.

Paige and Chuck waited for the call.

Was there any way to revise her spell? Any way to send out a message to the elements, to let them know she knew where her family was, that she needed the location of the shifters? She wasn’t a proper spell witch. She used elements. Maybe that’s the reason Cawli decided to merge with her.

“They will retrieve your family,” Chuck said quietly.

Paige stared down at her phone. Blank. Still. “Yeah. We’ll save your pack.”

“What were you saying about killing them?”

“Just an idea I had. Not really killing them.” Her mind was just so thick with emotions; fear, anxiety, a severe case of pissed-the-fuck-off. She needed to think.

“Mmm?”

Had she drifted off? Again? She glanced at him, barely seeing him through the haze of her emotion. “Just making it look like I did. But I don’t know how to do that. Grandma would. She’d know some herb or something that would just knock them out and we could shoot them once and they’d fall into a sleep or something.” But that was Alma who could do that. What did Paige have? Power? Great. Extremely helpful. “I don’t know. I was just thinking outside the box.”

Chuck tapped the table. “Why aren’t they shifting?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’re still captive, which means they’re still human.” Chuck pulled his head forward. “They’re not shifting.”

“Mandy had said there was a cross or something that was prohibiting her from using her gift.”

“She shoots fire, yes?”

“She’s a Firestarter. Yes. It would stand to reason that if they have something that can suppress witches’ powers, they can suppress a shift.”

“Magick?”

Most witches used some sort of spellwork that used tools and herbs. If she knew what those were, she might be able to bring something to counteract it. Well, no. Alma could. “Wolfs bane?”

Chuck shook his head. “It’s a detractor, but we can overcome it. Even if we inhale it or drink it. We can overcome it.”

“Hmm. What if it was used in a spell?”

“I don’t understand.”

Neither did she, really. She’d be a much stronger witch
if she did. “In a spell, the compounds of the herb can be magnified.”

“I don’t know witchcraft.”

She needed to talk to Cawli, but where was he? What was he doing? Where had he gone? She hadn’t been able to talk to him since she’d reconfigured the ward. She’d thought he was just being quiet…but what if there was something else going on? What if the wards had hurt him somehow? Muffled him? “Chuck.”

“Yes.”

“Can you speak to your spirit animal inside this house?”

He raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Hmm.” So, not the wards. Where was he?

Chuck studied her in the gathering silence.

She didn’t care. She needed to figure out how to get around whoever might be there holding her family hostage. What might she face? How would she defend herself? How would she free her family? What if the—

She was going after the shifters. Not her family. Dexx was doing that. She needed to trust that he would succeed.

But she couldn’t tear herself away from the fact that the person going after them should be her. Her. Not Dexx. Not Gomez. Not a grove of trees. Her.

That was her sister.

Her daughter.

Her niece.

Pull your head out of your ass, Paige
.
You’re the one who wants to take the fight to Portland, to the Eastwoods’ fucking front door.

Sometimes, she was an ass to herself.

“He has gone quiet?”

Paige frowned, scrambling to recall what Chuck was talking about. “What?” Then it registered. He was still on the question she’d asked. She was shit deep in a fight or flight response that could get her killed. Calm.

Fucking calm the fuck down and use that fucking
brain
of yours.

She needed to learn how to be nicer to herself, but the ‘pep-talk’ worked. Her heartrate slowed. Her brain re-engaged as the rampaging emotions backed off a bit.

She licked her lips. She could really use her animal spirit’s assistance in that moment. “Cawli. Yes. He has gone quiet.”

“Ah.”

Paige didn’t see an answer coming, so she closed her eyes and concentrated. What did she know?

Magick
was
involved. Somehow.

Shifters. Not shifting.

What could be repressing them?

Could be a binding spell of some sort.

How plausible was that?

In order to bind each person—the magnitude of a spell like that was too much. They’d need a team of witches to bind every person.

How likely was it that an army of witches had come to Texas and she hadn’t heard about it?

Um, that could actually happen. And that was something she was going to have to work on. If they stayed, she’d have to devise a type of ward that would give her warning. If they relocated to Oregon, she’d have to get one in place.

Thoughts for later.

Ward?

What kind of ward could strip away a person’s magick?

Binding was the only thing that made any sense. But how? How could they bind that many people in such a short amount of time and how could she undo it?

“That sometimes happens, you know.”

“Binding?” She opened her eyes. No. He was still stuck on the question she’d asked how many minutes ago? “Oh. Cawli.”

“Binding?” He frowned at her. “Who?”

“I was thinking about how whoever is behind this was able to cut off the human from their animal spirit. And the only thing that makes sense is a binding. But it would have to be a binding spell on each person. Individually.”

“How would that work?”

“Doll? But a doll for each person. So, if that’s the case, then this was premeditated and the person not only knew who they were going to pick up, but they knew how many. It took a lot of energy.” Or it didn’t. Fuck if she really knew.

“What if they bound the location?”

“Like a ward? Wards don’t strip a person’s ability to practice magick.”

“No. Like what you said. If bindings really are the only thing that makes sense, then why couldn’t they bind the space?”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Bind the space?”

“What if they bound the location, the house or whatever they’re using? Would that make sense?”

“It would.” But then…what would they be looking for? If it was a normal binding spell, she’d be looking for a pile of voodoo-like dolls. But this? She didn’t know.

“Now, back to Cawli.”

If he could get to the point quickly, sure. Her mind raced to figure out to this binding location thing might work. He could be onto something and if she was prepared, she could actually save those shifters instead of showing up to get her ass handed to her.

Per normal.

“They go quiet from time to time when they’re not needed.”

Not needed? “I could use Cawli’s help right now.”

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

“He disappeared right after I fixed the wards.
Is
there any way he disappeared?” He
had
popped in for the location spell, though.

“He changed you somehow. Do you feel as though that has disappeared?”

“No.” There was no way that was happening without her notice. “What he did is still there.”

“What did he do?”

Paige stared at the books on the shelves behind Chuck’s head. Was there something in there that might help? “Someone ripped a hole in my soul and opened a gate to Hell inside me. Cawli used his spirit to bind me back together.”

Chuck’s expression widened in surprise. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Paige rummaged through the books in her mind, but came up blank. If she was stumbling through books at a time like this with seconds on the clock, they were lost. No. She needed to come up with a solution on her own.

Seconds on the clock, though. Really? The minute hands dragged.

Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not really. It gave her a chance to calm down. Rationalize.

“You do realize they’re going to know you’re coming, right?” Chuck asked. “They’re going to let you right in the front door.”

In all her worry, she had forgotten that. They were going to let her in the front door because she was supposed to be there to kill the shifters.

“The only one who has to hide is me. I just have to find a way around their perimeter, if they have one, and slip inside. Then, hopefully, you find a way to disrupt whatever protections they have so I can wolf-out if I need to.”

“You call it wolf-out?”

“I was simply trying to lift the mood.” He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, worry and anger pinching his eyes. “And then we save my shifters.”

Paige nodded.

A cool breeze blew past her cheek.

She looked up, but saw nothing. Switching to witch vision, she saw a little air element warbling in front of her, changing shape like a crazed woman changing clothes before a hot date, only in fast forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chuck answered.

“Not you. The air—my spell—” Whatever. “—arrived.”

“That…sounds weird out loud.”

She couldn’t disagree.

The air sent her an emotional ping that felt like confusion.

“You didn’t find who I sent you to look for?”

Her answer came with the emotional feeling of blackness. Nothingness. The lack of something. She took that to mean no.

“Then, why are you confused. Is there something else?”

The feel of swirling colors, too much information, confusion, chaos filled her mind.

The water in the bowl in the center of the table trembled. Clarity filled Paige’s mind with a searing color of blinding white. She had a location. She felt it. Where it sat in the city, the feel of the sewer tunnels that ran under it, the stink of the refuse, the rumble of the cars.

She thanked the water and turned to the air with the feel of location in her mind and touched the map with her charged right hand. A flip of flame coursed down it along her veins, escaping her fingertips like sparklers. They settled on an area and seared the map.

The same location Gomez and her grove had pointed them to. They were on the right track. Excellent.

Paige turned to Chuck. “We have the location of my family confirmed.”

“I see that. Very interesting.”

“Grandma would have done a better job.”

The air undulated in front of her, trying to get her attention.

“What?”

“I didn’t—oh.” Chuck raised his hands. “Never mind.”

The air dive-bombed her hand, bouncing on the back of it.

Paige opened her palm to it.

It gave a ping of exclamation then dove into her palm, sliding under her skin. It escaped like thread from her fingertips as if her fingers were spiders. The air’s web collected in a location on the other side of the city and then stopped.

Paige looked up at Chuck, blinking off her witch vision. “We know where the shifters are.” But she hadn’t asked for it.

Cawli, however,
had
.

“We do?”

The air gave her a ping of bright yellow swirled with white in confirmation.

Odd. “Yes.”

“I thought you sent the spell after your family.”

“I did.” Had Cawli’s touch been enough for the spell to work on locating the shifters? For real?

“And the spell came back with the location of my pack?”

She looked up, meeting Chuck’s piercing blue eyes. “I don’t fully understand it myself.”

His lips were firm as he raised his eyebrows.

Water gave off an emotional aura of being right, better, stronger, more capable.

“There’s a reason,” Paige said to the bowl, “that water is used for this spell. But I’m glad I tried air anyway.” Had it taken the initiative? Was that something air did a lot? “We have the location.”

Chuck tipped his head to the side, placing his fingertips on the table. “We don’t have to wait for the call.”

“No.” Relief and anxiety bum-rushed her. “No, we don’t.”

“But.” Chuck winced. “We don’t have a car. I didn’t see yours out front and I got a ride.”

Shit. “Is your pack close?”

He nodded. “They are, but we’re few. I don’t want to get them involved if I don’t have, especially if this turns out to be witch business.”

Valid. She guessed. “And if this turns out to be something else?”

“Then, I will call my people and we will get involved.”

Fine. Nothing like a side-lined team. She walked down the hall to the kitchen. “Hey, Wrick, Parris?”

Both men looked up from their computers. They were camped out on the dining room table and though she hadn’t thought it was possible, they made the entire table disappear.

Disappear. As though there was no room for anyone else to sit with them. And that table housed the entire Whiskey clan, including two bouncy chairs. Amazing.

“Do either of you have a car we could borrow?”

Wrick nodded and pulled out his keys. He set them on the table beside him and continued with what he was doing. “It’s not mine, so no worries.”

“Whose is it?”

“Technically?” He smiled. “Yours. I was only borrowing it because Chief let me. But now you’re here, I’m betting you get it.”

Probably not. After all this was over, she was going to have to do something about getting her family out of Texas faster than the originally planned two months. That just wasn’t going to work for her.

“Thanks.” She grabbed the keys and headed out the front, her gun strapped to her hip. She clicked the button on the key fob to see which car would answer.

The black sedan and the only car in the drive that wasn’t Tru’s. She couldn’t tell what kind it was. It was the new version of sedans, the kind that looked like all the other ones. She slid into the driver’s seat and recalled the feel of “location” the air had given her.

She’d never followed that before. She’d never tried a location spell, either, but there was just something inside her that was acting like a beacon to a pigeon. She knew right where she needed to be.

She parked the car in a large, dark parking lot in the warehouse district. Warehouse district. How original. But it was unoriginal for a reason. The area was remote, there were few cameras, and there was lots of space. Very few people around to hear anything. Yes. Warehouse districts were good for the wrong kind of activities. Largely because there was ample space.