Whiskey Witches #1 Page 2

  She jerked her attention to White, her heart racing.

  His eyebrows rose. “What?”

  She cocked her head to the side and listened. Someone outside? The one was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She only saw the elbow of the man outside.

  “Hear something?” White asked.

  Paige looked at him through her eyelashes to hide her emotions. She didn’t hear voices. She wasn’t a part of the magickal world. “Did you?”

  He shook his head, his expression similar to one Leslie, her ghost-talking sister, gave to other “psychics” every time they said they felt someone sinister standing behind them.

  She stood, trying to shake it off. “Probably just the feel of the place. I’ve never been somewhere where real slaves were kept.”

  He grunted.

  She went to the mandala and knelt in front of it. They could be used in spells. Each symbol added to the series of circles could bring new meaning to it. It was complicated spell work, which was why they were so rarely used. And they were fairly weak as far as spells went. A lot of work for little pay, which was another reason they were typically only used for protection.

  Could it be used to protect a summoner against a demon, though?

  She went to scoot her right foot forward, but tripped. She caught herself against the wall with her hand.

  The world rotated with a slow-churning lurch. The dust-ridden sunlight streaming through the slats in the window above her head dissolved into nothingness. Brutal heat transformed to bone-setting chill.

  Everything disappeared. Something slammed into her skull from the side. Pressure built inside her head until she thought her eyes would pop.

  Silence.

  Stillness.

  Peace.

  The moon hid behind a thick blanket of clouds. Fog rolled in and gently away only to fold itself around her again. Trees rose from the earth like prickly fingers. The ground lay dormant beneath her bare feet.

  She pulled her black cloak tighter around her. Her earth-bound form did not feel chill or heat, was unfazed by a strong wind. She felt the energy, the tug towards darkness. Her demon heart froze in fear.

  Paige barely had enough sense of self to realize she wasn’t the demon. It felt like it, though. The sights. The smells. She saw them. She smelled them.

  A pentacle had been drawn in salt in the short, spring grass nearby. Candles lit each point of the star. A small cauldron was reigned in the center.

  Witch, the voice from earlier said.

  Fear overtook her. She turned to run, to flee.

  Soul-fire burned the side of her face.

  She staggered backward. A magickal ward glistened in the air directly in front of her. The witch.

  Wait. What witch?

  Trapped.

  Trapped by what? And why?

  Protect it.

  Protect what?

  Something gleamed in the grass. An old and twisted knot-work of metal lay on the ground. Weak energy shot from it like the light of a distant star. The key.

  The key. The thought took hold her mind like claws and gripped her tight. The key. Protect the key!

  Hands grabbed her. Warm. Soft.

  Real.

  She was stuck in the memory. A demon tied to the earth. She couldn’t move. This wasn’t her world. This wasn’t her dimension. She belonged somewhere else, not here. The witch and the angel had chained her to this spot, helpless to keep the gates closed. She had to find a way out, had to get away. She had—

  A slap across the face brought her back to reality.

  This reality.

  Her reality.

  Paige sat sideways in the passenger seat of Chief White’s unmarked car. The door was open and he was on one knee in the dirt, a hand on her arm, supporting her. He stared up at her with concern.

  Bile rose in her mouth. She shoved him out of the way, collapsing on her hands and knees, retching. She heaved until nothing was left. Smoke rose from the spilled contents of her stomach and the stagnant smell of sulfur penetrated her nostrils.

  She wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. What the fuck just happened?

  Chapter 2

  Paige pulled herself back into the passenger seat of the car.

  Sulfur.

  Demons. It had to be demons. Right? What did she need to protect against that?

  Shit. She didn’t know. Understanding symbols was one thing, but the Whiskeys did not to deal with demons.

  Real demons.

  Had to be. Right? The vision? Throwing up sulfur?

  Had she just been possessed?

  Crap! What would Sam and Dean do? The Winchester boys always had a plan.

  On TV. Where they would throw out some really crazy ideas, go so far as to actually kill their two main leads off, and then bring them back. Sometimes, literally, from Hell.

  No. Supernatural and Hollywood weren’t going to help her. She didn’t have anyone who would bring her back from Hell.

  She could call Leslie. Maybe her sister would know something. She’d been practicing magick a lot longer than Paige had.

  Has she? Are you sure?

  That wasn’t the demon’s voice.

  That had come from somewhere deep inside her. The question didn’t even make sense. She was just thrown off center because of the demon. Great. She couldn’t even trust her own mind.

  Who else could she call? She ignored the obvious response.

  Dexx. He was a demon hunter. He’d been by a few times in the last five years, working on cases in the Denver area. They’d become fairly decent friends in the past few years, but he’d remained distant.

  Still. Maybe she should call him.

  She got to her feet and stumbled.

  “What happened back there?” White stood away from the smoking vomit, his face pinched in concern. Suspicion? Possibly both.

  “I don’t know.” It was the best answer she had. Magickal crap happened to the others in her family. Not to her. This was totally new territory.

  Was it new?

  Of course it was. She shook off that errant thought.

  “I’m taking you to the clinic. I’ll call Dr. McCormik. Let him know to stay there a little longer.”

  She shook her head. The world spun, making her stomach lurch. “Why?”

  “He’s the coroner?”

  And the doc. Small town. “No. I’m—I’m fine.” She really wasn’t. “I just need sleep.” And to call Dexx who would understand this. She didn’t need someone running tests. They would come back normal. Right?

  What if sulfur showed up in the blood? It had been in her stomach. How would she explain that away? She couldn’t

  “I’m having the doctor check you out.”

  “No,” she said forcefully. She took in a deep, steadying breath and gave him her full attention. “Look, Chief, the truth is, I’d just gotten off a long night before I got on the plane. The flight wasn’t that comfortable. Had a chatty guy sitting next to me the whole way and a bratty kid in front of me. The drive was long. The heat is getting to me. I just need sleep.”

  His flattened lips and set jaw said he wasn’t buying it.

  She wasn’t either, but she couldn’t afford to go to the clinic and have her blood drawn. She didn’t know how to alter tests or how to get them thrown out or messed up. She didn’t have those kinds of contacts. She had never needed them before.

  Are you sure?

  What the fuck was that? Her voice? Again?

  Of course she was sure. She remembered her entire fucking life.

  Really? What about the five years that’s missing?

  Paige blinked.

  White narrowed his eyes.

  What was going on?

  Ask yourself. Why are you the only Whiskey without a gift?

  White stepped around the door. “What’s going on?” he asked quietly.

  There was nothing to say.

  “I know your family’s history. And my momma had a touch of the gift herself.” He li
cked his bottom lip, ducking his head. “She’d get that same look on her face sometimes, too. You saw something.”

  Paige swallowed. She couldn’t admit to it. She’d lose all credibility. This wasn’t the same world where spells were baked into cookies. This was the world where all of that was child’s play bordering on make-believe.

  He glanced over her head. “You did see something. What was it?”

  She shook her head. She barely knew him.

  His brown eyes met hers and held them with a steely gaze. “Tell me what you saw and I’ll take you to your room.”

  Bad idea. “Something from the past. I think.” She clamped her jaw shut. What was she thinking?

  He could be an ally.

  Why did it suddenly feel as if she had two personalities battling inside her?

  Maybe you do. And this one has been buried for… five…long…years.

  Jesus fucking shit.

  White nodded, his expression earnest. “Okay. What else? What happened?”

  Tell him.

  No! “I was a demon sent to Earth to protect mankind.”

  “From what?”

  “Themselves? There was a witch and an angel?” She shook her head, recalling the vision, terrified it might overtake her again. “I didn’t see them, though.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And a… special key. There was a key I had to protect.”

  “What was this key to?”

  She didn’t remember if the demon said in the vision or not, but she knew. She just knew. “The Gate of Hell.”

  White closed his eyes for a brief moment and then reopened them. “The key to the Gates of Hell is here? In my parish?”

  “Gate. As in singular.”

  “And that’s in St. Francisville, too?” he asked incredulously.

  “I—” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Was there anything else?”

  She pressed shaking fingers to her lips. “The demon that got me? He’s trapped. In that shack.”

  White’s face paled. He straightened and turned to stare at the shack, eyes wide. “Should I be worried? About my men?”

  She knew next to nothing about demons.

  You don’t? her own voice asked in a snide tone.

  No. “I don’t know. But that’s what the killer is trying to raise.”

  “Okay.” White flagged down the officer stationed outside the door. “Extend the perimeter. I don’t want anyone inside that shack unless it’s absolutely necessary. When Dr. McCormik gets here, help get the body moved as quickly as possible and then shut down the area.”

  The officer nodded.

  The other one stepped through the door.

  “Clark, please take Detective Whiskey’s keys and take her car back to the Rose Inn. We’ll follow.”

  “Yes, Chief.” Clark turned, a tight smile on his face as he held out his hand for the keys.

  She fished them out of her pocket and handed them over.

  “Let’s get you to the inn.” White walked briskly around the front of the car.

  Paige sat down and shut the door. Chief White was handling the idea of her having visions really well. A little too well? Was there such a thing? What would he get out of playing along? No. He’d been spooked before. His mother’d had visions. He’d been brought up with the idea.

  He could make a good ally.

  Finally.

  That voice. Her voice. Paige didn’t understand what was going on.

  White started the car, glancing at her in concern. “You’re sure you don’t want to go to the clinic.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “And you’re going to be okay if we just go back to the inn?”

  She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t know what else to do. She closed her eyes.

  The car stopped. The engine cut off.

  Paige opened her eyes, blinking in surprise at a large, white plantation house. A sign in the front read, “Rose Inn.” This was a much nicer plantation. Her car waited in another parking spaces.

  “We’re here.”

  When had she fallen asleep? She nodded dully and fumbled for the door handle.

  “You don’t look good.”

  Bile rose to her mouth. A wave of dizziness assaulted her. She just needed to get to her bed. Wherever that was. She got out of the car, doubling over, her hands on her knees.

  The driver side door slammed shut. Gravel crunched. She pulled herself upright using the open car door.

  She heard things as if she was in a tunnel. She opened her eyes, but didn’t see…anything. No plantation. No sunshine. No trees, for that matter. Just…darkness.

  “Whiskey, are you okay?”

  “Chief White,” she said, her voice miles away. “Maybe I should—.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t kn—”

  “Paige,” a familiar voice called.

  “Dexx? What are you doing—” She stopped, unable to continue. She held out her hand, grabbing only air as she fell.

  Fell.

  Fell.

  What are you doing here? the deep, British-sounding voice asked.

  “Dexx.” Paige’s head wobbled on her neck. She hadn’t fallen to the ground like she thought she had. She remained partially upright, though how? Hands held her up, pressed against her ribs, dug into her arm. “Something’s—”

  A vessel?

  “No.” Her voice shook.

  A force pushed against her mind, searching for a chink in her soul, for a way in.

  “Shit.” Dexx’s rough hands gripped her tighter, almost painfully, but a cleaner pain than the one in her head. “Help me get her inside.”

  “I need to take her to the—”

  Paige’s head fall back. A guttural roar sliced its way from her throat. Holy shit.

  That couldn’t have been her voice. Couldn’t…have…

  “Now,” Dexx demanded. His expression softened as he looked at her. “Damn it, Paige. What the fuck did you let in?”

  “Who are you?” the cop asked.

  Dexx spared the cop a glance. From the look of things, Leslie had been right to call him in. It looked like he’d arrived in the knick of time. “Fanny!”

  “Yeah?” she shouted back as she opened the door.

  While he’d waited for Paige to show up at the inn, he’d flirted with the inn owner. Great gal. Quite the gab and without a doubt the local gossip. “Grab my bag out of the dining room.”

  Alarm slashed across Fanny’s round face. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Just grab the bag, and put it in my room.” He was going to kill Leslie and Alma.

  The cop stopped him on the second-floor landing with an iron grip on his arm.

  Dexx stared at the cop. Hard. They didn’t have time for this shit.

  “You will answer the question.”

  “Dexx. Colt. Demon hunter.”

  The cop didn’t even flinch.

  Huh. “This needs to be handled. Right now.”

  As if on cue, Paige’s eyes shot open. The rich, nut-brown had been replaced by pure black. A grimace twitched across her face. “This vessel belongs to me.”

  The words might have come from Paige’s mouth, but the voice had too many layers to be human. And it had an accent that Paige didn’t have.

  The cop’s eyes widened. However, to the man’s credit, that was the only reaction.

  “Her room is upstairs. Help me.”

  “She just drove in from the airport.”

  “And you made a reservation for her.” Dexx took her shoulders. “I just took the liberty of checking in for her. Would you bring her bags?”

  “Fanny wouldn’t let just anyone check in for her.”

  “I know. She’s a good girl.” Would he just fucking hurry up?

  The cop raised his eyebrows and grabbed Paige’s bags.

  Finally. Dexx hoisted her up and carried her like a child. “I’m her fiancé. Came to surprise her.” Wasn’t a complete lie. He had come to sur
prise her. Thank goodness he had, too. The demon didn’t have full possession of Paige’s body. Odd. She was fighting it. Maybe it couldn’t get a full toe-hold. Maybe they had some time, had half a chance.

  Fanny led the way down the corridor to the right and opened the third door on the left.

  “Thanks, Fanny,” Dexx grunted.

  “Chief White,” she said, her voice hitched. “What in the name of the Lord is goin’ on?”

  Chief of police, huh? Dexx dumped Paige on a chair. “Nothin’s goin’ on, Fanny,” Dexx said, adopting a slight twang to soften his words. He needed Fanny to relax. Needed everyone to calm down.

  Fanny crossed herself.

  He took his duffle from her arms.

  “Look, Fanny,” Chief White said, taking her arm and leading her out of the room. “We just came from a crime scene. She came into contact with something down there.”

  “Shouldn’t she be at the clinic, then?”

  “With Dr. McCormick dealing with the body?”

  Her eyes widened. “So, it is true.”

  Chief White nodded, his eyes closed for a moment. “Now, be a bless and don’t tell anyone about it.”

  “It was Eddie, wasn’t it?”

  The chief gripped the door with one hand and sighed. “It was.”

  “It was them witches, Chief. You know that same as I do.”

  “We don’t.”

  “His store was goin’ belly up, and with his wife pregnant.”

  Whoa. Now, that was a connection worth noting. “You think he could have sold his soul?”

  “To the devil?” Fanny’s grey eyes lit. “Yes. Yes, I do. That man was crazed tryin’ to find a way to unload that store. He went to see them witches several times.”

  Chief White glanced at Dexx and shook his head, his lips tight as if to say, ‘Don’t rile her.’

  Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Best lead. Witches. The Whiskeys, he knew. Good people, witches. Most of them, anyway. But others?

  Some others weren’t as nice. At least, not the ones he’d come into contact with.

  “What about her?” Fanny asked, glancing at Paige.

  “She’ll be fine. Bring some lemonade?” Chief White closed the door firmly in the woman’s face.

  “Thanks for that.” Usually, when the police got involved, the situation turned into a gagglefuck.

  “Don’t thank me yet.” Dexx stared at Paige, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What’s the plan?”