Slightly Spellbound (18 page)

“She mentioned it, but I’ll wait to come until she’s with me. Will you extend me the same courtesy of calling if you see her?” he asked, taking the pad and pen. He wrote his number.

“Sure thing,” I said, taking it.

“I’m sure she’s all right,” he said, but I sensed that he was trying to convince himself more than me. “She believes her stepmother and brother followed her here. Anything having to do with the pair of them puts her on edge.”

“With good reason.”

He blinked. “Have you met them?”

“Yeah.”

“Were they rude to you?” he asked, surprised.

“Were they polite to you?” I asked, equally surprised.

“I’ve never met them. But I thought Vangie might have exaggerated how unpleasant they can be,” he said. “In pictures, Oatha Theroux is usually dressed in a ‘ladies who lunch’ suit, albeit with a skirt that’s too tight. Vangie’s stepbrother wears suits. He hardly seems like a thug.”

My brows shot up like his. “Suits? I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re more Louisiana swamp than Dallas swank. He’s got an alligator tattoo! And I can tell you firsthand that Vangie didn’t exaggerate about how bad they can be.”

“Maybe I should call the police,” he said.

“You could,” I said. “But it’s too early for a missing-person report.”

He nodded, grimacing. “I’ll check the local places around here. If I don’t find her, I’ll join you in Duvall.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod. I was already halfway out the door.

She’s probably fine.

But given what I’d seen going on in the wetlands outside Duvall, I was pretty concerned. One time, I’d been kidnapped twice in one week and that hadn’t even been after a night of black magic and burning horseflesh.

On the landing, I spotted half a dozen Dyson residents milling about the parking lot near Bryn’s car. As soon as they saw me, they fumbled to get their cell phone cameras up.

“Hey, y’all,” I said with a cheerful smile, but held out a hand to cover my face as their phones clicked.

“C’mon now, Tammy Jo,” they protested. “You’re the closest thing we’ve had to a celebrity sighting in Dyson.”

I kept my chin tucked, so my hair hid my face. “I’m not a celebrity! I’m just like you,” I lied.

“Then why not be sociable? Stop and pose for a few pictures.”

“No time for pictures,” I said. “And I’m not photogenic at all,” I added, which was true.

“What in the world kind of car is that?” someone asked.

“The fast kind,” I murmured.
All the better to get me out of here quick.

I closed the door and almost ran over some toes as I peeled out.

20

THE DAY WARMED, so I tossed my jacket on the passenger seat. I checked the bakery, the bouncy castle, Bryn’s house and mine. I didn’t spot Vangie or her Bentley. I chatted with my neighbors. None of them had seen her. I frowned.

She could still be okay. Maybe she went back to Dyson.

I checked in with Jackson. He hadn’t found her either. My heart sank a little. The more time that passed without her turning up, the more sure I became that something bad had happened to her. In Bryn’s car, I shoved the sleeves of my jersey up, feeling flushed. Maybe we were going to have a heat wave. I hoped so. I was tired of the cold.

I drove to the edge of the woods where I’d had to leave my car. The car itself was gone. My brows rose and I looked around. Had my car been stolen? Who would steal a dented Ford Focus with a flat tire? More likely someone had seen it and called Floyd, the local mechanic, who’d towed it to his garage. I grimaced at the thought of what towing, tire change, and bodywork would cost me. I should really think about buying a different vehicle. Maybe something from army surplus, like a rusted old tank. I bet a tank’s tread would stand up against bullets, arrows, and most things that my enemies could throw at it. Yeah, a tank would be a really smart way to go. I wondered what used ones cost.

The sun beat down on my head. I walked into the woods. The trees were quiet and still. Sleeping maybe? Did trees sleep during the day? I wasn’t sure about that.

Despite the shade, my clothes were warmer than oven mitts holding hot cookie sheets. I tugged at the collar of my shirt.

“Something isn’t right,” I said, hurrying farther into the woods. “Trees, you there?” I asked. Not a whisper. Instinct made me turn toward the river. A sharp pain ran through my middle.

“Ouch,” I yelled, falling to the ground. I rolled and writhed in pain. It was like I’d been skewered with a hot poker. The cuffs of my jeans burst into flames.

“Hey,” I screamed, flapping my legs against the ground and heaping dirt on them. The flames died out, but my clothes were searing hot. I jerked off the shirt, toed off my shoes, and shoved my jeans down. The clothes caught fire again, and I kicked the jeans away and yanked off my socks.

My skin sizzled as I got up and ran toward the brook. I literally dove into it as my bra caught fire. I landed belly down and slid several feet. The cool mud soothed me. No wonder fancy spas can charge so much for mud baths.

Water steamed and rose in humid protest. I half swam, half dragged myself farther downstream to where the water could cover my whole body. When strands of hair burned against my back, I flipped over and dipped my head underwater.

The water around me bubbled and boiled, and I was afraid my skin itself might catch fire. Deep in my body, my organs warmed like they were being baked.

I lifted my head, gasping, and grabbed a tree root so I could dig my feet into the mud. My witch magic is from the earth and my fae magic is connected to it, too. At the moment, I needed to tap into any power that would keep me from being burned alive.

“Hi, Earth, it’s me, Tammy Jo,” I said. I wiggled as my panties sizzled. I dragged them off and tossed them on shore. Steam rose as they caught fire and burned in blue flames.

I don’t know what’s going on.

It might be a black magic spell.

If you could save me from it

That would really be swell.

I’m not exactly eloquent when I’m in a panic, or when I’m not, but I felt a difference right away. My tight skin still stung, but I didn’t feel like I was being pan-fried like a fish. I panted my relief and let go of the branch.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. The current picked up and I floated with it, dipping myself every few minutes to keep my burned skin cool. The water babbled over rocks and I knew by the sound that I was getting close to the place where the creek dumped into the Amanos River.

I’d have to get out soon. The Shoreside section of the Amanos River isn’t fit for swimming. The current’s too strong, and the river feeds into a big waterfall. Getting pulled over Cider Falls and dashed on the rocks below is a good way to get your bones broken to pieces.

I climbed out of the creek, muddy water dripping off all my naked bits. I needed to find the clothes I’d taken off the night before, so I’d have something to wear out of the woods. I looked around, trying to gauge where I was in relation to where I’d been caught in the sack.

I jumped when I spotted a figure leaning against a tree.

When I got over being shocked speechless, I yelled, “Hey, turn around!” and tried to cover myself with my arms.

He smirked, not bothering to so much as turn his head. He was handsome and blond with tan skin like he’d just arrived from a week on a Mexican beach.

He also glowed golden in the low light.
Not human, then
, I thought.

“Here,” he said, flipping something toward me.

My palm shot out instinctively, but I pulled it back to cover myself. An etched disc of green and gold landed at my feet, and he said, “A coin for a kiss.”

“Not on your life!” I snapped. “You turn around,” I demanded, shifting to conceal my private parts.

He raised his brows. “That accent’s unbelievable.”

“Not if you’re from Duvall, Texas, which I am.” I took a long step back. “Bye,” I said, and dropped into the creek with a muddy splash.

The water swept me downstream, and I thrashed until I caught an overhanging branch. I had no intention of standing around naked, putting on a show for a strange man, but there was still the deadly river to be considered.

The golden guy jogged along the creek till he reached me. His color wasn’t as unnaturally bright when he stood close, but his skin and hair still looked gilded.

He studied my face, stretching one leg behind him until he was down on one knee.

“Show me your left shoulder,” he said.

Considering what he’d already seen, a shoulder hardly seemed like much, but I resisted just to be contrary.

“I’m not showing you a thing. You go on back to wherever you’re from so I can get out of this creek and back to doing what I came out here to do.”

“What are you here to do?” he asked.

“To get my cell phone and clothes.”

He drew a quiver of arrows from behind his back and reached into a pocket on the side of it. He held up the phone I’d lost.

“Yeah, that’s mine. Did you set the trap I got caught in?”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Tammy Jo Trask. What’s yours?”

“You can call me Crux.”

“Are you a faery?”

The question seemed to amuse him because he smiled.

Splotches of faery dust dotted the bottom of his quiver. I recognized it from the Tammy sack. That
had
been his snare.

“Why were you trying to catch me?”

He didn’t answer at first. He stared at me for a long time. “Are you the redheaded witch who fought Unseelie fae on Samhain?”

“No,” I lied.

His grin widened. “I think you are. In which case, I was trying to catch the fae who’s trying to find you.”

I gulped. “Who says other fae besides you are hunting me?”

“Do you doubt it?” he asked, amused and smug.

“Who is it? A skeletal creature?” I asked, tensing so I could submerge myself if he tried to grab me. If it was between the faery I could see and the falls that I couldn’t, I’d escape the guy first and worry about the other after.

He ignored the question. Instead, he said, “You interest me.” He extended a hand. “Let me help you stay alive, Tammy Jo Trask.”

“That’s actually a full-time job. Someone just tried to burn me alive, and I don’t think it was a faery.”

“Were there flaming arrows involved? Or burning leaves?”

“Nope. My clothes burst into flames.”

“Not of the Never,” he agreed.

“No, I think a witch used a voodoo doll against me.”

“Voodoo doesn’t work on faeries.”

“I’m not a faery. I’m a witch.”

“One of those statements is true, but not both,” he said, studying my face. “You’re half of each.”

I flushed. “Am not,” I said, lying again.

“If there is a voodoo doll, it was certainly your fae half that kept you alive long enough to protect yourself. How well do you fare against iron arrows?”

“Not too well, I don’t expect.”

“Then my offer’s a good one.”

I shook my head at the outstretched hand whose long fingers beckoned me to clutch it. “That’s sure sweet of you, but as you might’ve noticed, I’m naked in here. I’m not getting out of the water until I’m alone.”

“You object to my seeing you naked?” he asked.

“Do you see a pole around here? I’m no stripper. I’m a pastry chef.”

He let his hand drop as he stood. “I’ve tried pastries. I like them.” He took a couple of steps back and set his bow and quiver on the ground. He slid off his brown tunic shirt, which looked like the sort of thing a medieval squire would wear. He hung it from a nearby branch, and I watched his lean muscles ripple, the tiny grooves between his abdominal muscles glinting golden.

He lifted his bow and quiver and walked several feet away, turning to the side.

I waited, but he didn’t turn away completely. “I can stand here all day,” he said.

Clearly, I’d gotten the best offer I was going to get. I hauled myself out of the water and scrambled into the shirt. It smelled of fields of warm grass, of sunshine and earth. Of honey and apples . . . For a moment, I stood in a field of heather far from Texas. A thistle bridge led to a door of woven vines and daisy chains. Sunlight streamed through the gaps. It smelled heavenly and I started toward the bridge, but before I reached it, it disappeared. I stood again in the cool Duvall forest under a canopy of brown and green leaves where sunlight could scarcely penetrate.

“You saw something just then. What?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I didn’t have to tell this strange faery every little thing. In fact, I felt sure that I shouldn’t. Faeries often try to trick humans. Especially when they’re planning to kill them.

“Nothing. I was just thinking,” I said, resting my hand on a nearby tree. The bark was solid and reassuring under my palm.

“Liar,” he said. “And not a talented one.”

“Thanks for letting me borrow your shirt. I’ll leave it at the edge of these woods when I’ve changed clothes. I’ll take my cell phone,” I said, thrusting out my hand as I walked to him.

“What will you trade me for it?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “As you can see, I don’t have a lot of things to trade at the moment. I can make you a cake. I’ll drop it off with the shirt at—um, you probably don’t wear a watch to know the time, huh? How about at twilight? Right before the sun sets?”

“I’ll accept a kiss in trade.”

“Well, I’m not offering one.”

“Then I suppose I’ll keep this phone.”

“I bet you don’t even know how to work it. And if you did, who the heck would you call?”

“It plays music. I like music.”

“The battery will be dead in a few hours, and then it won’t play music or do anything else. It’ll be completely useless to you.”

“Even so.”

“All right,” I said, stepping forward with a smile. “I don’t have time to argue with you. I need my phone.”

He smiled and bent forward. I snatched an arrow from his quiver and pressed the tip between his ribs, hard enough to break the skin.

His breath came out in a hiss.