Witch in the Wind (Bandit Creek Books) (11 page)

Then she was back on the lawn with Marcus standing in front of her. She blinked, feeling like she’d been yanked out of a dream. “What did you do?” Realization ignited righteous fury. “You
whammy-ed
me. How dare you use magic on me.”

He gulped his breath as if swallowing a laugh. Good survival instincts. “You were hyperventilating again. I had to stop it.”

She stopped her hand before it reached her lips as she remembered how he’d treated the last episode. Her voice didn’t sound as firm this time when she said, “Don’t do it again.”

He looked at her lips as if they held the secret to the afterlife. “Can’t promise that.”

“I just feel like nothing is the way it was. My parents weren’t who I thought they were. My life isn’t what it seemed. I don’t even know who or what I am anymore.”

The air around her weighed more than she could carry.
She looked at Marcus, thinking about the townspeople that she’d known her whole life.
George and Lucy at Ma’s Kitchen. Cora West at the vet clinic. Even the horrible bully, Olivia Turley, from school.

“We’re worse than outsiders here. We’ve brought death and destruction to Bandit Creek.” She wasn’t sure she could be one of the magical people like Marcus, but she didn’t feel like she could stay here anymore either.

“I’m so sorry, Avy.” He pulled her back into his arms. She held on tight. “But we still have to find those amulets. Or it will all happen again.”

Avy watched Marcus leave. She fought the urge to call him back even though she’d asked him to go.

She looked around and sucked in a deep breath of air. She expected it to smell different now because she was different. It didn’t. She listened to the faint sound of a scurrying animal in the trees. The birds still sang as they had every other spring day. The mountains stood off in the distance, crowned wi
th ice, as they had for thousands of years. Everything in Bandit Creek was still the same. Except her. Every time she tried to focus on the puzzle of where her parents may have hidden the second amulet, her mind jumped back to Old Town. To all the souls buried under Lost Lake. She whispered a blessing and asked forgiveness for her family.

“All I can think about is the rock slide. The flood.” She used the heel of one hand to rub her chest where a jumble of emotions churned as if trapped with no way to escape. “Lives were lost, Busby. How could they live with themselves?”

Busby nudged her leg and then a wet nose nestled against the fingers of her other hand. She smiled down at him and rubbed his ear. “I know they didn’t mean to do it. I do love them. But still––”

She leaned her head on the pillar and looked at the town in the distance.

She had no idea how long she’d been there, when the rumble of a pickup somewhere nearby broke into her thoughts. No one was coming up the front lane so it must be coming from the logging road behind the house. It seemed closer than it probably was. Sound carried in the mountains.

Busby wandered off the porch, sniffed the air and then
galloped
around the side of the house to investigate.

Probably scented a deer in the woods.
Somewhere nearby she could hear a nest of chicks chirping. All around her were the sounds of spring runoff; the snow on higher ground thawing under the spring sun
releasing water to find a
path through rock crevices down the hillside to the valley below. She imagined it taking her fears and grief with it. If only it could.

A twig snapped and drew her eyes to the right.

“Did I startle you?”

Avy recognized him immediately as the mayor’s
government man
as Lucy had identified him the day before at Ma’s. He wore the same green uniform with a forestry crest. The round gold frame of his wire glasses highlighted the doughy features of his face. He wiped his hands on his pant legs as he walked towards her, then stretching his hand out as he introduced himself. “Blake Ferran. I’m working with Mayor Clayborn on a project to protect Lost Lake as a
n
historic site.”

She struggled to keep from pulling away from his grasp. The contact made her skin twitch. When he finally let go, she slipped her hands into her pocket to avoid wiping them off.

He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Your parents were very supportive of our efforts,” he said.

Her internal lie detector was giving her mixed messages even though he was probably telling the truth. Her parents would have been fully behind protecting the natural environment around Bandit Creek. She felt as if all her wires were misfiring making her light-headed. She wanted him to leave.

“If you’ll excuse me—

“I was hoping I could have a word with you.” He slipped his glasses off and avoided her eyes as he slide the
m
into the chest pocket of his green shirt. “I have to ask you an important question.”

“This really isn’t—

Again he didn’t give her a chance to finish.

“I was hoping Dr. Egan might be able to join us.”

The change of subject made her head spin. “He just left,” she said. Why would he want to talk to her and Marcus about the Lost Lake project? And even if he did, why not talk to them at Ma’s when he’d seen them having breakfast together?

“Wonderful,” he said, a broad smile stretching across his face. “But we can’t assume he won’t come back.”

She must have misheard him. Or the man wasn’t making any sense. She didn’t care. She just wanted him gone so she could go inside and lie down. What on earth was wrong with her? Stress?

She glanced behind him hoping Busby would be back soon. Where was he?

She looked back at Ferran and noticed he glowed although the color was murky. She was starting to recognize it as magical energy, an aura. She hadn’t thought to ask Marcus if there were other magical people wandering around Bandit Creek. She could feel the air
was thick
between them
,
as if it were
gel
. It felt something like when Marcus was around her, except this wasn’t at all pleasant.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Ferran, but I don’t feel well. Perhaps this could wait until tomorrow. We could meet in town.” She didn’t wait for him to agree but turned to step back up on the porch.

“I’m afraid that won’t do at all, Ms Gwynn.”

She sensed more than felt the movement behind her.

“Stubborn. Just like your parents.”

A sudden flash of light erupted in her head. Stars flickered in front of her eyes before darkness took her.

* * *

Avy woke to pain piercing through her brain and shooting out her eyeballs. Her head thumped against a hard surface, like a drumbeat, causing a constant ache in her neck. She tried to sit up and then realized her arms were pinned to her side. She pried her lids open, gasping at the sudden sharp light. She blinked a couple of times then looked down to find herself wrapped in a horse blanket. She realized she was in the back of a pickup. Had she fainted? The last thing she remembered was sitting on the step.

The truck hit another rut in the road, again smacking her head off the metal floor. What the hell? Her teeth rattled in time with the shudder of the wheels on the washboard road. The air filled with dust making her throat feel parched and raw. She struggled to sit up but before she could find her balance the truck hit another pothole in the road. Her stomach roiled but she held its contents down.

When they hit a smooth portion of the road, it was almost startling. She tried to relax her head on the truck floor and force her mind into focus. She remembered that Busby had gone around to the back but he hadn’t come back. Worry added to the headache hammering at her temples. She squeezed her eyes closed trying to remember the sequence of events. Did Ferran hurt Busby? Suddenly a noise somewhere behind the truck caught her attention. Barking. She blew out a breath. Busby. He was okay. And trying to follow them. She listened hard as the sound drifted farther and farther behind.

Fear crawled up her spine as she tried to wiggle loose from the blanket. With her arms finally free, she used her hands to rub some sense back into her brain. She felt the pull of brakes as the vehicle slowed. If she could at least hang onto the side, she might be able to jump out. She gripped the side of the truck, lifted one hand and stared at it. What kind of captor wouldn’t tie her hands? A spark of hope flickered inside. She might get out of this yet.

She tried to take in her surroundings, figure out where the guy was taking her, although the splitting pain in her head was making it hard to think straight. Crow Mountain was visible in the distance behind her. She was heading up Lost Lake Road. Were they going to the campgrounds? Too many people around. Was he looking for somewhere more secluded to kill her? A tremor ran through her and her stomach heaved. She clenched her jaw and focused on the trees whipping by on either side. They were heading up Turtle Mountain.

The road surface changed again. Avy closed her eyes and racked her brain to remember what lay beyond the lake and the campground. Not much. Just hiking trails. Her heart pounded and sweat trailed down her back.

Suddenly the pickup skidded to a stop. A scream laced with panic surged into her throat. She clamped down hard on both. Panic could get her killed. She frantically looked around for a shovel, or rake, anything to use as a weapon. The driver’s door opened and slammed shut
.
Ferran’s footsteps crunched along the driver’s side of the vehicle. It was now or never. She kicked the blanket away from her legs, pushed up and levered herself out of the truck. She was off balance as she landed but adrenalin helped her bounce upright and then—

Her whole body froze in mid step. Cold terror shuddered through her body—yet not a single muscle twitched. Had that last rut snapped her neck?

A presence approached her back sending prickles crawling up her neck and over her scalp. Her every instinct cried to pull away. Run. Her throat convulsed with hysteria. But the shrill scream echoed only in her mind. Even her voice was paralyzed. Her captor had total control over her body. Ferran had left
her control over
only her eyes, her ears and her mind. So she’d know when the terror engulfed her completely?

She closed her eyes. Maybe if she couldn’t see what he did, it wouldn’t be as bad. She could disappear somewhere inside her head until it was all over. Then she heard him move around to face her. Morbid curiosity forced her eyes open.

“Now, now,” he said as if he was a schoolteacher speaking to a child. She glanced down to see if he was wagging his finger at her. “There’s no need to run away. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

His lips curled into a smile. Was that meant to sooth her? It didn’t. She had no doubt he meant her harm.

Blake Ferran watched her with his strange black eyes. She glared at him. “Did you kill my parents?”

“It was their own fault. I dropped by unexpectedly and they overreacted.” His tone was so mild he could have been talking about a neighborly spat rather than murder.

A lump formed in her throat and her eyes began to water. He could kill her out here in the backwoods. Within weeks, if not days after the long cold winter months, the coyotes would make sure there was nothing left of her to find. Tears welled up behind her eyes and trickle
d
down her cheeks. No one would look for her. Her parents were gone, he’d killed them. Everyone from Bandit Creek would assume she’d headed back to Seattle. She blinked hard. She would not give this maniac the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Marcus said she came from a long line of powerful Council Guardians. She would honor her parents. She would be strong. She breathed in, letting the cool air find its way deep inside to where her magic hid.

Before she could ask any more questions, he said, “I’m going to release you now so we can head up to the cabin.”

He’d chosen the Deekston Homestead. The property had been abandoned for over half a century and it was remote so there’d be no one to hear her scream.

Ferran stood to the side. He swept his hand with a flourish and the paralysis lifted releasing her so suddenly she lost her footing. He caught her by the elbow, but she yanked away from him. She sucked in a deep breath and almost gave in to the urge to try to run again, then thought better of it. She wouldn’t make it two steps before he’d stop her again. No wonder he hadn’t bothered to tie her up.

She fisted her hands at her sides and walked a few steps ahead. Maybe she had the power to protect herself with magic. But how? Frustration quivered through her. Marcus had said he was going to train her—later.

She considered the storm she’d summoned although she didn’t really know how she’d started it. Her stomach clenched as she recalled she’d also needed Marcus to help her call it back. No, she wouldn’t risk the town. The people. Even to save herself.

Desperation kept her spine straight and her mind working. There wasn’t anything she could do with her magic on her own. She needed Marcus. Maybe he would realize she was missing. He might even be able to follow her magical trail. If that existed. She’d only seen it in the movies. Darn, that was werewolves—or was it vampires? She worked her jaw in frustration. She just didn’t know much about the supernatural, had never been that interested, until now. She slowed her pace trying to buy more time.

Ferran didn’t rush her. He seemed to want to talk. “When I took you, I took great care not to damage you,” he said.

Avy stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. “You threw me in the back of a truck and let me bash my head off the floor,” she shouted. “You could have killed me. Just like you killed my parents.” The pent up grief twisted with the terror in her gut. She stepped toward him, her mind consumed with the need to crush his throat with her bare, clenched
hands
.

His body seemed to transform right before her eyes. His posture straightened, his eyes shimmered
to cold, black diamonds and his face twisted until it no longer looked human. Some inner power radiated from his body and snapped her back a step. Holy, crap! The shimmer surrounding his body thickened to an opaque red. His aura. The color deepened as she
watched. That couldn’t be good.
Her mind cleared instantly and her survival instincts snapped back on.

She stopped in her tracks and braced herself, watching his hands for some warning before he shot a fireball at her. She’d been stupid to antagonize him. “I’m sorry,” she said almost choking on the words. “This has all been such a shock.” She didn’t move a muscle. As if she were facing down an angry elk, she didn’t want to startle him into aggression. Getting herself killed wasn’t going to solve anything. When she was still standing after a couple of seconds, she forced her fists open and relaxed her body, trying to look contrite.