Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel (31 page)

I was just grabbing my keys and the locator charm with the blood stain when a knock at the door stopped me. I paused, waiting to see if any of the booby-traps went off, but when everything remained quiet, I opened the door. Ronnie and Joey were waiting for me, very similarly dressed; Joey had even pulled on a black beanie to cover her shock of pink hair.

 “You ready?” Ronnie said. It was strange to see her hair so tightly bound. She’d tamed it into two braids trailing down her back, keeping the wild curls out of her face. She led the way to the elevator and pressed the call button repeatedly, as if pushing it a hundred times would make the ancient thing move faster. We could hear it rattling inside the wall as it made its up.

“How safe is this thing?” Joey asked, eyeing the doors.

“It’s fine,” Ronnie said dismissively, still pressing the button. The elevator arrived with a
bing
and the doors shook as they slid open. Ronnie stepped in, spinning around, sending her long braids flying as she faced me with a big, cheesy grin on her face. She was excited, like a crazy person!

“Ron, this is not an adventure, try not looking so damn excited,” I said.

“Hey, it’s better than panicking,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

 “You are as stubborn as a mule,” I said, glaring at the numbers above the elevator doors, watching our rickety progress to the lobby.

“Takes one to know one,” Ronnie said back in a sing-song voice.

“Mature.”

“I know.”

“You guys are so funny,” Joey said, dancing from foot to foot. You’d think we were on our way to Disneyland or something.

***

It took us almost an hour to finally reach the place the amulet was leading us. We’d left Havencrest behind and drove into the humans’ side of town, leaving the city and wending our way through the suburbs. The houses were cookie-cutter versions of each other, only the number of windows and choice in paint differentiating each from the others. There were SUVs parked in every driveway, and each block had at least one basketball hoop in front of a house. Even the streets followed a pattern, each being named after a flower. It was creepy.

We rolled to a stop in front of a blue house, but the amulet was straining against its lanyard, pointing toward a brown house three doors down, where a police cruiser was parked. I stared at the black and white vehicle, the one anomaly on the whole street, and wondered if they were here to question Jackson or protect him.

My question was answered when the front door opened and one police officer walked out, followed by a man with dark hair and a goatee: Jackson. Right behind Jackson was the second cop. The officers led him to the cruiser, one holding the rear door open for him as he ducked inside. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but I didn’t think he looked very happy from where I sat.

We sat in silence as we watched the cruiser pull away from the curb and drive away, disappearing around the corner.

“The amulet brought us here, so that means Roane is in there,” Ronnie said. I nodded in agreement. Finally, after so many restless nights, I was here and Roane was within my grasp with my freedom. Not to mention the second half of my payment that would keep me in rent and food until Summer Solstice.

“Let’s go,” I said, snatching the amulet and jumping out of the car. Joey and Ronnie hurried after me. Joey’s steps were nearly silent on the sidewalk as we approached the house. The closer we got, I could see tiny points of shifting light appearing. They danced on the air, floating at the front door and near the windows. There were a few trailing on the roof, and I caught sight of one just before it slipped down the chimney.

“Will-o-wisps,” Joey whispered.

“That’s not good,” Ronnie replied. Humans couldn’t see these little tricksters unless a wisp wanted a human to see them, but being witches and fae, we could see them as clearly as the stars in the sky. Humans mistakenly thought of wisps as fairies that would lead them to treasures or some grand adventure, but that wasn’t true at all. Will-o-wisps were sneaky little buggars that would draw innocent people off the path of safety and into some horrible danger to terrify them and feed off their horror and fear. And they always, always found their way to any place full of fear and pain, feeding off the energy gleefully. That they were here, hovering around the house, trying to find their way in, only told me that I needed to be prepared for what I might see inside.

“Come on,” I said, taking a breath to steady my nerves, and lead the way while I pulled my gloves out of my pocket and pulled them on. I walked right up to the front door, not wanting a snooping neighbor to see us sneaking around the back.

Testing the knob, I found it locked. I gripped the doorknob tightly and whispered, “
Effringo effreg
,” and heard the lock inside snap. The knob turned easily in my hand, and we walked inside.

A high pitched beep sounded immediately, over and over again, but before I could do anything, Joey rushed to the white plastic box on the wall. She lifted the cover and threw a handful of pixie dust at the electronic panel. We stood frozen in place as we watched the red digital display run through a series of numbers before switching to green and the beeping stopped. Joey flashed us a bright smile, and Ronnie gave her a thumbs up.

It was a beautiful house with a sweeping floor plan that made it feel even bigger than it was. I could have fit my whole apartment in the front room alone. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere, and actually, I could smell the newness of everything: the plastic of the television, the fabric of the couches; even the paint of the artwork smelled like it was still drying.

I glanced down at the amulet hanging from my hand. It was spinning in circles. Roane was here somewhere, but this was as close as it was going to get us. With a huff, I jammed it into my pocket and turned to the others.

“Okay,” I whispered, “let’s split up. We’ll find him faster.”

“Be careful,” Ronnie said, holding up a finger for emphasis. Joey and I nodded, and the three of us broke off, each taking a different direction. I headed down the hallway while Ronnie went to check the garage, and Joey stayed in the living room, crouching by the front window to keep a lookout.

The hall wasn’t very long and there were only four doors leading off of it, the majority of the space of the house was at the front, but at least that meant my search would be short. The first two doors were bedrooms, empty bedrooms, but the third was an office. I slipped inside. I checked all the walls for a secret door, but didn’t find anything, even going so far as to check under the area rug, half hoping to find a trapdoor that lead to a cellar, but there was just nothing.

“Where the hell are you keeping him, you creep?” I demanded, grinding my teeth together.

I found an invoice for the monthly rent on the utility space where we’d found Jackson’s wife and the dead guy, but that wasn’t earthshattering. There were pictures on the bookshelves, many of Jackson and Bernadette, all smiling and happy, but when I looked closer, I realized how young they looked, much younger than Bernadette looked when I saw her in that warehouse. Not one of these pictures had been taken in the last five years. That was a long time to be unhappy.

But in the back, behind the other pictures, was one of Jackson and another man. They were both dressed in suits, shaking hands and smiling up at the camera. Beside that picture was another taken at some sort of banquet. Jackson and his wife were sitting at a large, round table, and leaning over them, with his arms around both, was the man from the other picture, the man we found dead in the storage unit.

“Man, you are messed up, Racanelli,” I whispered and turned away from the pictures and back to the rest of the office.

After a little more digging through his filing cabinet, I found Jackson’s copy of the divorce papers. The divorce had only been final for about seven months, but who knows how long they were separated before that. I turned to the desk and turned on his computer. Part of me wanted to find something that would be evidence enough for the human police to convict Jackson on kidnapping Roane. I didn’t know what the Lord and Lady had planned for him, but I knew it was going to be much worse than anything he might’ve done to Roane. I wasn’t going to let them put that guilt on my head. If I could turn Jackson over to the human police, then at least he’d be in jail for kidnapping and safe from the twisted hands of the pissed off fairies.

Jackson didn’t bother with putting a password on his computer, so the soft blue light of the monitor shifted to the desktop in a couple of moments. Unsurprisingly, he’d stored his email password, so I was able to click right to it, but before I could start shifting through his internet history, I heard a shuffle in the hallway.

“Mattie! Mattie, where are you?” Ronnie’s voice was muffled through the door, but her panic was obvious. I rushed to the door and opened it to see her terrified face and Joey fretting behind her. A wisp floated down between us, hovering and glowing bright as it drank in our fear.

“What? What?” I asked, reaching out for Ronnie, gripping her arm.

“He’s back,” Joey answered, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Damn it, that was fast.” I pushed them back, trying to herd them down the hall, but we heard the front door open and a man’s voice swear.

“What the fuck?”

Ronnie turned her wide eyes to me, making the wisp dance around our heads, ruining our night vision the brighter it got. I tried to bat it away as I turned again and ran to the office, shutting the door as quietly as possible once Joey and Ronnie were through.

“What do we do?” Ronnie mouthed, but I put my finger to my mouth to shush her. Pressing my ear to the door, I tried to listen. It was deadly quiet; that was his big mistake. If Jackson had thought to make some noise or turn on his massive television, I wouldn’t have been able to hear the click of the safety being taken off his gun or the sound of the slide as he put one in the chamber.

I waved Ronnie and Joey back, telling them silently to go to the back wall and stay down. Moving to the side of the door, I slipped my necklace out and pulled the vial free, uncorking it. My hands shook as I waited, listening for the slightest sound as Jackson looked for us. I thought I heard him open the closer bedroom door and held my breath – he would be on me in another moment.

My eyes fell to the doorknob when it moved as Jackson started to turn it from the other side. I tried not to look at Ronnie, knowing her panic would make me nervous. When the latch was free, Jackson pushed the door open with his foot, holding the gun with both hands. He made the mistake of looking forward first and didn’t even see me as I flung the powder at his face. In a burst of white, Jackson had just enough time to cough before he crumpled to his knees, his eyes rolling back into his head. I grabbed the gun just as his hands went slack and his arms fell before he hit the floor, face down. I thought I heard the sound of his nose breaking against the hardwood, making me cringe.

I handed Ronnie the gun to put the safety back on. She pressed the button to release the magazine before struggling with the slide to release the bullet in the chamber. She walked the gun over to the desk and hid it in the bottom drawer after wiping our fingerprints off.

“So this is him?” Ronnie said, nudging Jackson with a toe, her upper lip curling in distaste.

“What’s the plan here?” Joey asked, looking from Ronnie to me and back again.

“Did you find Roane?” I asked. Ronnie shook her head no.

“I don’t understand,” I said, digging in my pocket for the amulet. When it was free of my pocket, it jumped out of my hand and landed on Jackson’s chest. “Frogs.”

“What does that mean?” Ronnie asked. I knelt down and grabbed his face, turning his head back and forth before I moved to his left hand, pushing up his sleeve, finding nothing, but I found what I was looking for on his right arm.

“It means that blood I used was mixed.” I held up Jackson’s arm so they could see the slashes on his wrist, four claw marks that were scabbed over.

“Looks like Roane or Bernadette hurt him pretty good and he tried to clean it up,” I said, letting his hand drop before standing. I stomped my foot and let loose a few choice curses before I was able to calm myself again.

“Now that you got that out of your system, what’s the plan?” Ronnie asked.

“There’s gotta be something here that will tell us where the hell Roane is,” I said. “I’m finding him tonight, even if I have to wake his ass up, put the gun to his head, and make him drive me there.”

“Let’s look around first. Maybe we can avoid that and the prison sentence and collaring that will inevitably come with it,” Ronnie said. “Give me your scarf.” She held out her hand, snapping her fingers when I didn’t move fast enough. Instead of asking her what she was planning, I just unwound it from my neck and handed it over. Ronnie took it and shoved Jackson over with her foot so that he was face down again and grabbed his arms, twisted them behind his back, and tied his wrists together with my scarf.

“Uh,” Joey started to argue, but Ronnie said, “Just in case he wakes up before we’re ready.”

“Okay, go,” I said. I pounced on Jackson while Ronnie ran for the desk drawers and Joey for his computer. The sound of Joey’s fingers across the keyboard stopped me for a moment. When I looked at her, I saw her pink brows drawn together as she glared at the computer screen, her fingers tapping quickly before snatching at the mouse and clicking like a madwoman. Clearly she should have come in here earlier and I would’ve served better as the lookout.

I brought my attention back to the unconscious Jackson and started digging in his pants pockets. I found his cell phone, but he was one of those paranoid weirdoes that locked his phone and I just didn’t have time to try the thousands of four digit combinations to get it open. Ronnie slammed another drawer shut, making me jump and nearly toss Jackson’s wallet when I pulled it free of his back pocket. Clenching my fists, I took a second to steady my nerves before flipping open the wallet.