Witch's Diary: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 4) (19 page)

“Uh-huh. Name one bad breakup you’ve had.” She threw over her shoulder, “Ours doesn’t count.” And then opened the door to the library.

“We didn’t exactly date, and I wouldn’t call what you did breaking it off. More like disappearing into the wind.” He paused, which made her turn around again. “But really, ex-girlfriends aren’t a good example.”

“Geez, you just don’t get it. Of course they are. Everyone hates their exes—or at least one of their exes. It’s seriously unnatural that you get along with all of the women you’ve broken up with.” Kenna dropped down into a chair at her favorite worktable, the one farthest from the door.

“I’m not sure why I’m arguing. You’re absolutely right. I’m a wonderful person. Everyone adores me, and rainbows shoot out of my ass.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen the light.” Kenna pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Hey, how is it possible that we get a cell signal down here? I’ve always wondered about that.”

Max looked aggravated, but he answered. “They boost the signal. It’s a safety issue, since most of the staff carry cell phones.”

“Ah. All right, I’ve got four names. Two women, two men. Barbara, Angela, Walter, and Alan.” Kenna eyed the list with some misgiving—who to call first?

“Witches don’t have last names?”

“Huh?” She looked up from the list, distracted. “Oh. Of course they do. Are you going to remember them?”

Max’s lips twitched. “Who’s first?”

“I’m trying to decide. Barbara and Alan are listed as most likely, but I’ve actually met Walter. Only once, but he seemed like a nice guy.” Kenna smirked. “I think Mom has a thing for him. But outside of that, I got a good vibe from him. Solid, trustworthy vibes.”

“Go with your gut.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Walter it is.” She dug around on the table until she uncovered a small address book. She flipped through the pages, then picked up her phone and dialed the number she’d found for Walter.

Max sat down in one of the chairs, his legs sprawled out in front of him.

“Kenna?” A man’s voice answered in a surprised tone after two rings.

How did he know this was her number?

“Is this Kenna?” he asked.

“Can I speak with Walter?”

“This is Walter. Kenna, are you calling about your mother?”

Her heart thumped faster. “Yes.”

“Do you know where she is?” Walter asked.

“That’s why I was calling you.” Kenna hesitated. How much to say? What exactly to disclose?

Before she could come up with the right level of disclosure, Walter said, “Is she in trouble? I haven’t been able to get her on the phone. And we were supposed to meet up at the, uh, the conference on Tuesday.”

Kenna sighed. Walter was in the know. And the poor guy was worse than Lizzie at hiding a fib. “Walter, try not to stutter right before the lie. It makes it a little more believable. You weren’t meeting at a conference. You were meeting…where?”

“In Vegas.”

Shit.

“Unless Mom has developed a sudden gambling problem, I’m guessing your meeting had something to do with the dead zone? Or with the Coven? Or Margot?”

“Dammit. Gwen’s missing, isn’t she? A call in the middle of the night… I knew it.” The hesitation was gone from his voice. The tone was firmer, deeper. “What do you know?”

Well, shit. She’d completely forgotten about the time change. That had not been a part of the initial plan.

“I know you’re being evasive, and it’s not helping my mom.”

“We had tentative plans for dinner on Monday, depending on how late she got in from the airport. I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t hear from her Monday evening, although she usually texts when she arrives. But then she also missed our Tuesday meet time. I checked at the front desk, but they wouldn’t let me know if she’d checked in or not. I called the rest of the team, but no one had heard from her.”

“Wait—your team? Barbara, Angela, and Alan?”

“I’m not sure who Barbara is, but Angela is earth, Alan is air.”

Kenna closed her eyes. “And you’re water.”

“Right. And Elise, Angela’s daughter, is earth as well.”

Opening her eyes, Kenna sat down at the table and hunted around for a pen. When she found one, she updated the list and made a note next to each name indicating that person’s element, and then she handed it to Max.

“So, what, you guys are a coven?” Kenna asked.

“We’re a team, with like-minded goals. I’m not a fan of the term coven. It carries too much history and doesn’t represent what we are today.” He stopped. “I’m sorry. It’s something your mom and I periodically discuss.”

“She doesn’t agree.”

“No. ‘Embrace your history,’ she always says.” Walter sighed. “What can I do to help?”

What the fuck? Where was that attitude when she was growing up? Kenna gritted her teeth. Focus, girl. She’d kick her mom’s ass later…assuming they managed to save her first.

“To the best of our knowledge, she’s being held by the Coven of Light. Our source isn’t particularly reliable. So we’d like some kind of confirmation that the Coven could and would actually hold her and accuse her of several serious crimes.” Kenna looked at Max and made a writing motion at him. “I’m going to put you on speaker with a colleague of mine, Max Thorton. He and I are working with IPPC to get Mom safely returned.”

Kenna tapped the speaker option on her phone.

Max leaned closer to the phone. “Hi, Walter.”

Walter took a moment to respond. “Max. IPPC? Are you sure that’s a good idea? It seems this is a witch matter—”

“No, it’s not. The information we have is from Margot.”

“Worth’s daughter.” Walter wasn’t asking; he knew. Either Gwen had filled in her team after her adventure with Lizzie in Vegas—more than she’d done for Kenna—or their current project was related to Margot.

Well, shit.

“What do you know about Margot?” Kenna asked.

“Not enough. We’ve been trying to find out more. Especially what her tie to the Coven of Light in Idaho is. And her relationship to the air witch Thad. He’s been on our radar for a while now as a mercenary with questionable connections—connections beyond Margot. In case it’s relevant, you might like to know that he’s disappeared completely, so he’s either dead or in hiding. My guess?” Walter’s gentle sigh could just barely be heard on speakerphone. “Thad angered the Coven or Margot and one of them killed him.”

“That answers one question. Clearly you think the Coven wouldn’t stop at murder.” Kenna’s stomach knotted. “Margot is asking for a sizeable sum in the form of her father’s assets. They were frozen then seized, and she’s asking they be returned to her. In exchange, she’ll intervene on Mom’s behalf.”

“That’s no good.” Walter sounded stressed. “She has to know that’s a legal impossibility.”

Max lifted his hand slightly to let Kenna know he’d answer. “Not exactly. IPPC frequently works within the framework of existing policing infrastructures. But they have a number of less formalized resources and channels. Without being too specific, let’s say that what Margot is requesting isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility for IPPC.”

“I think Max is saying it’s not that bizarre that Margot would believe IPPC could make it happen—whether they can or not. And, hell, for the right stakes, maybe they could make it happen.” Kenna mentally braced herself to ask the next question. “Given that you think they’re capable of murder, I’m guessing you’d believe the Coven would and could hold my mom.”

“No doubt. They certainly have the means and have acted against vocal dissenters in the past. But I find the question of motivation problematic. We’re a very small, discreet group. We don’t act directly and openly against the Coven. Why risk involving IPPC to put such a small group out of commission? And that’s doubly true for Gwen. Removing Gwen leaves our tiny team intact but for a fire witch. And though Gwen is irreplaceable to us personally—as a team member and a leader, we could, with some effort, find another appropriate fire witch.”

“But if there was a reason that Gwen, specifically, was valuable to them, they could hold her?” Max asked. He kept an eye on Kenna as he waited for the answer.

She was probably looking pale and pathetic. She reacted much more physically than usual to anything stress-inducing. Incredibly annoying.

“Sure. They’d have to keep her in one of their holding cells, though. She’s a powerful witch, and she could make a fiery mess that they’d have a hell of a time explaining. You really think they’ve manufactured charges against her to turn her into a bargaining chip?”

“Yes,” Max and Kenna replied simultaneously.

“Do you know where the holding cells are?” Kenna tried to keep the excitement and anxiety out of her voice. Walter had been almost casual in his reference to something she and Max hadn’t even been sure existed.

“Anywhere there’s enough magic to power it. Either a large coven or a naturally occurring magic spring.” Walter paused. After a weighty silence, he said quietly, “Or death magic. A single death, if the victim were a magic-user, would likely power a cell for more than a few days.”

Bad. That was very, very bad.

“I see.” The words didn’t want to pass Kenna’s lips. Probably because her heart was in her throat. She already knew the Coven employed questionable tactics. She really shouldn’t be so shocked that they used people like disposable batteries. But she was.

Max stepped in as Kenna faltered. “How much do you know about the cells?”

“Built to hold a single witch, the cells are reinforced with magic to not only prevent escape but to suppress any magic use. I don’t know how, if that’s what you’re asking. And I don’t personally know anyone who’s been kept in one.” Walter coughed. “That doesn’t mean…it doesn’t mean there aren’t witches who’ve been released. Otherwise, how would we know about the cells?”

It sounded like he was trying to reassure himself, so Kenna left that question unaddressed. “We’re pretty sure we know how the cells work. There’s some kind of intertwining of the four elemental magics to create a barrier impenetrable by magic from any one witch. Does that make sense to you?”

“Maybe. It sounds like Big Magic, which is something most respectable witches wouldn’t touch. But, yes, I could see how it might work. In theory. We’d have to simulate it in order to learn how exactly to deconstruct the barrier.” He took a heavy breath. “I assume that’s what you want? The barrier deconstructed? That’s why you asked about the team?”

“Yes.” Kenna inched closer to the phone, leaning in. “Can you do it?”

“That’s just a small part of the equation, Kenna. Where is the cell? Is it someplace we could even approach? How do we get to it?” Walter asked.

Max interjected before Walter could get rolling with a full list of obstacles. “We’re working on the location and safe entry. Assuming the barrier around the cell is the only obstacle, can you get past it?”

Walter didn’t answer immediately. But after a few seconds, he said, “I can’t say without first trying to construct a simulation of the barrier. If you have more detailed information and we had a full team, quite possibly. But the safety concerns are real. If it were just me, there would be no question. But I can’t speak for Angela and Alan. And there’s a real problem with finding a fire witch.”

“You said you could replace Mom. Earlier, you said that.” Kenna knew what his answer would be, and her heart was doing a strange fluttery dance in her chest.

“No. Not for something like this. And on such short notice.” Walter made a frustrated, grumbling sound. “Dammit. Of course I’ll try. I’ll do my best, but you need to consider what our options are if I can’t find someone. I suspect Angela, Elise, and Alan will be willing to help if you can provide some assurance of safety. It’s just trying to find someone willing to take on this kind of risk for a woman they don’t know…and with so little time…”

Max kicked her chair leg under the table. Or tried to. He kicked her shin.

“Ow.” She scowled at him and mouthed, “I know.” She cleared her throat. “How much of a fire witch do you think you’ll need?”

“I’m not sure I understand your question. A witch is fire, water, earth, or air. Although it would be helpful to have a more experienced, more powerful witch. I just don’t know who that would be.”

Kenna knew there was a flaw in Walter’s conclusion about single-element witches. At least, per Marianne and her diary, it wasn’t true. But that hadn’t been her point. And she sure as hell didn’t have an experienced, powerful witch to recommend. “How about a pregnant almost fire witch? And, uh, that’s me, in case you’re wondering.”

Dead silence followed her announcement.

Kenna and Max exchanged a worried look.

Max said, “Walter, are you still there?” No answer. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Sorry, bad connection. That’s fine, Kenna. We’ll make it work. So, where are we meeting and when?”

“One of the IPPC folks will sort travel arrangements. That’s one area IPPC rocks. I don’t want to guess at their travel budget.” Kenna scribbled a few details down.

“Or how they fund it,” Max murmured.

Kenna frowned and shook her head. “Is there a city where we can plan to meet that’s centrally located?”

“Austin works. We frequently meet at Gwen’s house. Only Alan and I will need tickets. Angela and Elise can drive down more quickly.” Walter hesitated then said, “I’ll let you go so you can make arrangements. And I need to fill in the rest of the team.”

“Either IPPC or I will be in touch soon.” Kenna clicked the end button. “Did you notice anything wrong with the connection?” When Max shook his head, she said, “Something was off. The connection was excellent through the entire call.”

Max seemed to give it some thought, then said, “He was ready enough to help Gwen.”

“Yeah. It was probably nothing.” Kenna rubbed her eyes. “I need to see when I can get home to meet with Walter. I’ve been getting anxious here in Prague, so far from where Mom’s being held. Now that I know Harrington is firmly committed, Jack’s taking care of the last few details here, and I’m needed at home. I really want to head back. Do you think that’s the right decision?”

Max leaned his elbows on the table and peered at her. “Do Lizzie and Pilar need your help with the book?”