Under Witch Aura (Moon Shadow Series) (19 page)

There was no denying that I
didn’t
want her to meet my clients, but it had nothing to do with the
accident in the lab. Truth be told, dressed as she did and with her
mostly high and mighty attitude, she’d be very detrimental for
business. Much as I wanted to help White Feather, I didn’t
intend to lose all my best business over it. “Tara, the
accident in the lab wouldn't keep me from taking you to a client
consultation. Spells don’t always work as planned. In this
case, I have what I need, so it isn’t the worst thing that
could have happened.”

She reverted to food. “What
about
chiles?”

My hands were busy grating
cheese, so I
pointed with my chin. “There are some dried ones in the
cupboard and frozen green chile in the freezer. My mom always gives
me some.”

She found the chile on the
freezer door
and put it in the microwave to thaw, all without any instructions
from me. I started warming tortillas.

“Limes?” she asked.

“Might be some in the
drawer.”

She rooted around and came
up with a
plastic bag. There was a lime in it, but it looked more like a
petrified walnut.

“Hmm,” I said. “There’s
juice on the door. I use lemon and lime juice in the lab a lot as a
preservative. Looks like I forgot to buy fresh limes.”

“Yeah, since, like, last
year
maybe.” She held the bag high with two fingers and deposited it
in the trash.

I kept an eye on her while
she chopped
green chiles.

“Sugar?” she asked.

I pointed with my chin
again. “On
the table.”

She found it, pinched some
in with the
tomatoes and began stirring. It was then that I was sure. The same
stray vibes that leaked around her in the lab when she got frustrated
were here now, but different. The aura was spicy like the salsa,
electricity almost tamed. As she calmed down and worked, the wave
hovered like a proper aura instead of spiking away from her in
clouds. Unbelievable. At that moment, she reminded me of my mother.

“Impossible,” I muttered.
Her hair was a tangled black mass. Her makeup was still more corpse
than human, but she was
right at home
in the
kitchen, with a
comfortable aura around her much like my mother’s aura.
“Healing? No way.” Food was most closely related to the
healing arts, although in the very talented there was a whole lot
more to it.

I watched her toss the
onions in the
bowl. She lacked all the clumsiness and self-consciousness she
exhibited in the lab. She wasn’t even concentrating and the
salsa came together like a spell. Granted, a lot of people could
cook, but she was
improvising,
and not measuring
anything.

My stare finally caught her
attention.
“You’re burning that tortilla,” she said.

I grabbed it, but it was
too late. When
I lifted it, smoke rose in a cloud. It was black on one side.

Tara snatched the iron
skillet off the
stove with a potholder. “What’s wrong with you?” She waved the pan to
cool it. After a minute, she set it down and
flipped on another tortilla without pausing to ask permission or
think about the action.

We finished preparing lunch
in silence.
If she had healing skills, she was out of luck. I couldn’t
train her on my best day. Well, unless I trained first. Given the
close calls I’d been in lately, a few healing skills wouldn’t
hurt.

I did know someone who
could help. She
was an old school witch and not for hire, but if we determined Tara’s
true ability, we could hire a more experienced teacher later.

Early morning was always
the best time
to meet clients. Most of them weren’t too keen on “daybreak”
but it worked for me because the rest of the world was mostly asleep.
Rather than park at the lodge, I drove up to the second group
shelter. The hike down was almost a mile through Douglas-fir trees.

The first shelter was
closer to the
meet, but it was also the more likely parking spot, and I avoided
being predictable. At quarter to seven, there was only one other car
at the high shelter, and it was from out of state. No one was around
to notice me and if anyone did, I was dressed like any other day
hiker.

The trail to the lodge was
clear enough
that a light wasn't necessary; the dim morning was a comfort, not an
enemy. A squirrel scolded from a tree and at least one chipmunk
scrambled across the rocks to the other side of the trail. By the
time the green roof of the lodge was in sight, dawn was breaking.

I slowed and caught my
breath.

From the trees, I spotted a
guy leaning
against the wall of the lodge. He sucked two quick drags from a
cigarette. One hand clutched a square object, but rather than a
weapon, it looked as though he had brought along a book to read while
he was waiting.

Too bad for him it wasn’t
light
enough out to read. The fact that he wasn’t on the trail side
of the split-log fence didn’t surprise me because clients
hardly ever followed instructions, before, during or after the spell
sale.

The way he checked his
surroundings did
bother me. He acted as nervous as an inexperienced bank robber. Of
course, some clients were afraid of witches even though they needed
one.

I sighed. He was going to
be a
difficult client.

When I reached the fence, I
left the
trail and climbed over the three-rail barrier to shorten the trip.

Halfway across the
packed-dirt area, my
feet stopped, but for a few seconds so did my brain. Even in the low
light he was recognizable as the frog-faced religious nut from Mat’s
shop.

“Aztec curses!” Maybe my
meets should be in broad daylight. With more light, I would have
identified him from behind the trees.

I backed away, but he had
seen me. He
ground his cigarette into the stones at his feet. “I’m
David. You the witch?”

“The what?” I kept
motoring backwards. It wasn’t hard to act like I thought he had
a screw loose.

“I’ve got this problem.
See?” He stuck his arm straight out. The things sticking up
from his arm were too thick and straight to be hair. His arm was
indeed growing green things, only now I knew what they were:
Petunias.

The spell from Mat’s shop
had
seeped into his skin. Assuming he plucked at the green stems as he
was doing now, the stalks probably grew close to an inch an hour.

“I’m out hiking, mister.
I’m not looking for trouble.” I backpedaled, fast.

The smaller storage
structure should
have been locked and empty at this hour, but a dark shape emerged.
David’s blond partner held a gun. His elation at seeing me was
overdone. “Well, well!” He paced my way, jaunty and
confident.

I yanked a spell off the
side of my
backpack and crushed the elements, setting off a heavy smokescreen
before it left my fingers. Behind the billowing gray smoke, I was a
gazelle; the fence might as well have been thin air. Once in the
trees, I could lose the two of them easily.

Two steps into my hopeful
gloating,
there was more movement off to my right. I dithered. I’d have
to fight if there were too many of them, and I’d likely lose. “Mayan
sacrifices!” I grabbed another spell from the side
of my backpack and was ready to release it when I recognized the
shifting, dark-haired form.

My mouth fell open. “Lynx?”
He drifted along the side of a tree, just leaving the trail that came
up from the lower parking area. Hearing his name, his head swiveled
my way, his eyes wide and glowing yellow.

My stomach hit my toes. He
wasn’t
alone. “Oh no!” Tara clung to one arm, slightly behind
him. “Out!” I screamed. “It’s a bust, get her
out!”

I turned back. If I
diverted these
guys back to the road…too late. David’s Bible caught me
in the face. He had spotted me through the smoke screen.

“Run,” I screamed again.

David the Frog clamped a
heavy hand on
my shoulder. I kicked empty air, and didn’t see the knife in
his other hand in time. There was heavy panting behind me. It might
have been Lynx, but I couldn't waste time finding out. Ordinarily
Lynx could easily escape in his bobcat form, but he was with Tara. I
clawed at David’s face. He paid me back with a heavy slice
from the knife across my arm.

The shock of pain
penetrated my brain.

The blonde guy with the gun
cleared the
smoke and the fence. I heard a gasp, probably Tara.

I muttered the right words
and grabbed
the purple-clad spell from my pack, crushing it in my hand. This one
had real fire, shooting out sparks and a long flame. It forced David
back and gave me an extra half-second.

I sprinted away, hoping the
explosion
of noise and light would give Tara and Lynx enough time to escape.
Feeling along my pack, I grabbed another spell, activated it and
lobbed it behind me. Had I looked or tried for my flying spell first,
I might have avoided the tackle.

He hit me hard.

Rocks tore across my knees
and one
elbow. My pack slid to the side.

“Gag her, gag her!”

A lot of my spells didn’t
need
words, and if I reached my knife, it didn’t need words either.
I twisted, managing to get my face out of the dirt. One hand was
still trapped underneath my body. The other jabbed and made contact
with skin. I raked my fingernails downward.

My opponent barely grunted.
I ended up
with a handful of half-grown petunias.

I blocked a blow with my
elbow. Frog-eyes had one leg pinned beneath his body, but I twisted,
determined to knock him off.

Lynx loped rapidly through
the nearby
trees. He disappeared from my blocked line of vision just as gunfire
popped. “Lynx!”

Setting off spells still in
my
backpack, which was still attached to me, was foolhardy, but reaching
Lynx and Tara was imperative, especially if one or the other had
already been shot.

I opened my mouth, but
David the Frog
slapped down, bloodying my lips. The last bang I heard was either the
gun going off or the crunch as his fist crashed against my nose.
Through a haze of black, I barely felt the next blow.

My head ached. I wasn’t
seeing
double, but what I did see was not good news. My stomach roiled, and
pain bounced from my head to my limbs. Maybe it wasn’t Patrick,
the vamp, in front of me. I slid one hand across my wrist and
panicked. My turquoise bracelet was gone!

I reached for my throat,
but knew my
silver and crucifix had also been taken. Silver was my tie to Mother
Earth. Naked didn't begin to describe my vulnerability.

It wasn’t possible for me
to keep
the shuddering breath locked quietly in my throat. I needed air, and
I needed earth! My gasp caused the vamp to stop tapping on his
hand-held device.

His eyes, solid black in
the dim light,
registered my recognition. Before I managed a second, shuddering
breath, his hand was across my nose and mouth, blocking all air.
Already panicked, there was nowhere to go but fight.

Biting a vampire was
foolish because
harming one was nearly impossible, but my silver was gone, I hadn’t
eaten garlic in days and my weak arms did absolutely nothing to
remove his hand.

My vision went black, but I
rolled away
from him. The jarring impact of a bed rail loosened his grip enough
to allow me another breath of air. I was
not
going
to die by
vampire strike. He could kill me, but he wasn’t getting my
blood.

“Take it easy,” he hissed.
“I work here. I mean you no harm.”

I was already over the side
and
crouched. My stomach protested. On my knees, I crawled for the door.

He picked me up and
deposited me back
on the bed. “If I wanted to bleed you dry,” he said in a
passive voice, “you’d be dead already.” He snapped
a finger against my aching head. “Use that, would you?”

He floated away from me
then, standing
by a mockery of a window. There was nothing but blue curtains framing
solid plaster.

Air wheezed in and out of
my throat.
There was only one door visible, but where did it lead? My hands
twitched, searching for silver.

“I am a predator,” Patrick
snapped out. “Act less like prey, and I’m less likely to
hunt you.”

A part of my brain
dissected the
statement “predator.” One part of me wanted to scream.
The other part yelled, “Freeze.” I knew the danger of
running from that which hunts. Stillness was my best friend.

Patrick faced the fake
window, as
though peering out. “It’s strange having one from the
daylight hours in here.”

I had no idea what he was
talking
about.

“I miss the sunlight. And
coffee.” He rubbed one arm with his hand. “The sun isn’t
like my memory of light and gentle heat anymore.”

As he talked, my vision
cleared. He was
dressed in a hospital-type smock, not white, but baby-blue for God’s
sake. Even though it hung loose, he managed to look attractive.

That was the magic of
vampires; not an
ugly one in the bunch. His black hair was secured into a ponytail,
exactly like the other times I had seen him. It, and a single diamond
earring, were the most human things about him.

I kept my eyes locked on
him, but he
made no threatening moves. Specifically, no teeth.

“Sunlight.” I fell back
against the pillows. “I want my silver.”

His mouth quirked into a
smile, still
no teeth or shiny fangs. “In the drawer next to the bed. I
guess you miss it like I miss sunlight.”

“I doubt it.” I opened the
drawer without taking my eyes from him. Not that watching him would
do me a lot of good. I’d seen this guy in action. If he wanted
to strike, I wouldn’t know he was moving until it was too late.

Leaning to reach my silver
almost made
me pass out again. “I gotta get out of here.”