Waking the Witch
Page 70

“Guess we know who killed the guard,” Adam said. “And Claire. I just really hope Jesse didn’t do anything dumb like call him here, confront him, and send him over the deep end.”
“He didn’t commit suicide,” I said. “I had a hard time believing Tiffany would, but I absolutely cannot believe Cody did. The guy has the survival instincts of a barracuda. He’d never flip out, kill Jesse, kill the guard, then kill himself. Someone just wants to make it look as if he did.”
I headed for the door. “We need to find him.”
* * *
 
THE BIG SET of doors did indeed lead onto the sawmill floor—a huge open space filled with crap. Not crap, I guess. Machinery mostly. Here and there were blank spaces, as if those pieces had been sold. The remainder looked as if it dated from the sawmill’s opening.
Rooms were easy to search systematically while keeping an eye on the exit. This would be like searching an open forest, treacherous terrain filled with ambush spots.
“I’m going to cast my sensing spell,” I whispered.
Adam hesitated, then nodded.
The problem was knowing whether the spell was coming back negative because nothing was there or because it was shorting out. I could pick up faint pulses, though—rats, cats, or other critters. When I faced east, I caught the distant signs of a human-sized presence.
I pointed and nodded. Adam let out a sigh of relief. However much he’d been grumbling, he had been concerned about Jesse. Just more concerned about me.
I only hoped it was Jesse, and not the person who’d killed Cody and the guard.
I let Adam take the lead. He carefully picked his way past the machinery, avoiding stepping on any debris and announcing his presence.
As we passed a saw, blades covered, I heard the scuffle of a shoe on the concrete and spun, hands flying up in a spell. It failed. Someone knocked me to the ground. I caught a whiff of overwhelming BO.
Before I could fight back, Adam hauled the figure off me. Another stink filled the air—burning fabric. Adam threw my attacker aside. I leaped to my feet. There lay a middle-aged guy in a jacket so filthy I couldn’t guess at the color. Same went for the guy’s hair, and even the guy himself.
He scuttled back, gaze fixed on Adam looming over him.
“This is my spot,” the man whined. “Randy promised he wouldn’t give it to anyone else.”
I directed Adam’s attention to a nest of rags and boxes in the corner. Adam swore under his breath and reached into his back pocket.
“Is Randy the security guard?” I asked the homeless guy.
He nodded, still watching Adam.
“When did you last see him?” I asked.
“Yesterday. He brought me a sandwich.”
Adam plucked out a twenty and handed it to the guy. “We’ve been looking for a friend of ours who came in here. Have you seen anyone today?”
The man shook his head and took the money. “I just got here. I was down at the diner. They give me day-olds and yesterday’s newspapers if I come by at ten.”
“Did you see anyone here last night?”
“Wasn’t here last night. I’ve got another place in town. It’s better, but the lady in the building beside it calls the cops if she sees me there, so I don’t stay during the day.”
“We need you to get out of here,” Adam said. “It’s not safe right now.”
“This is my—”
“—place. We know that. And you can come back in the morning, but right now it’s not safe.”
The man crossed his arms. “You’ll take my stuff.”
I motioned to Adam that we needed to get going.
“Fine,” he said to the man. “Just stay put, okay? Don’t come out, no matter what you hear.”
“Is it a delivery?”
Adam nodded. “Yes, it’s another delivery, but we’ve got new guys and they’re nervous, so stay here and be quiet or they won’t let you stay, no matter what Randy says.”
We started to walk away.
“Hey!” the guy yelled, making us both cringe.
Adam wheeled, shushing him.
The man plucked at his jacket sleeve. “You burned my coat.”
Adam frowned. “How would I do that?”
I took the wallet and gave the guy two more twenties.
“No incinerating the homeless,” I whispered as we walked away.
“Yeah, yeah.”
We walked a few more steps, then he glanced over at me.
“Back there, when the guy jumped you ...”
“Swing first, cast later. I know.”
“If I ask how you’re feeling, can I hope for an honest answer?”
“Not great, not bad. I’ll—”
“—be okay. I know.” He sighed. I pretended not to notice.
“I’m going to try my sensing spell again,” I said.
Adam nodded. I cast. It failed. I was midway through a second try when I caught a flicker out of the corner of my eye. Something flew straight at me, so fast I saw only a fastball blur. It hit the side of my head and everything went black.
 
 
thirty-six
 

I woke up lying on the dusty floor. My arm throbbed. My head throbbed even worse. “Adam,” I croaked.
Silence. When I tried to rise, my stomach lurched and I gagged, mouth filling with bile. I spit it out and had to take a second to steady myself, head and stomach both spinning.
When I could finally lift my head again, even looking around made my gorge rise.
I was alone. Beside me, I saw the outline of a body in the dust, then drag marks.
They’d gotten the muscular guy out of the way first, planning to come back for the helpless girl next. That was a mistake. I lifted my fingers and cast a sensing spell. Nothing happened.
Shit.
I fought welling panic. I was fine. I just needed to conserve my energy for one good lethal blast.
I pushed up on all fours. My stomach lurched and I retched. My arm throbbed. I looked down to see an angry red bump. I’d seen marks like that after every shot I’d had in my life. A reaction to needles.
I’d been injected with a sedative.
It took a minute more for me to get to my feet. Another to get steady enough to stay upright. The whole time my brain was screaming at me to get moving. Follow the drag marks. Find Adam.
Logically, I knew if our attacker wanted Adam dead, he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of dragging him off. Still, as I stood there, fighting to keep from curling up in a ball and spilling my guts on the floor, I felt weak. Useless, powerless, and weak.