Chapter 37

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

Generally speaking, I made it a personal policy not to piss off powerful witches, even gray or white ones. And though I'd seen Carly angry and fierce while facing down adversaries, I'd never been on the receiving end of a harsh word from her—even when I'd said or done things that even I had to admit probably deserved either a reprimand or a minor hex.

To be fair, Carly wasn't exactly angry at me when I left her and Katy at our house to set up for the ritual, but she was capital letters NOT HAPPY, despite my promise to be back well before midnight. I departed with my tail between my legs, metaphorically speaking.

"Carly's going to give you the hiccups for two days," Malcolm predicted as Matthias drove us as speedily and stealthily as possible toward the Hensleys' house on the city's posh west side. "Maybe an itch on your back that you can't scratch no matter what. Or make it so caffeine doesn't have any effect on you anymore."

I sucked in a breath and clutched my travel tumbler of coffee to my chest. "Don't even say that. Not even as a joke."

" Does caffeine affect you anymore, actually?" Matthias rumbled. " From a purely scientific perspective, you consume it in quantities that might require medical study…or an intervention."

"Once again," Malcolm said haughtily, "I must remind you that I am the comic relief on Team Alice."

I put my tumbler in a cup holder and crossed my arms. "Neither of you are funny at all."

"I think you are both quite funny," Liam said from where he floated next to Malcolm in the back seat.

"Whose side are you on?" Malcolm demanded in mock outrage.

They all were trying so hard to cheer me up despite their own heavy hearts, and I had one of those moments when I felt I didn't deserve this much care and support. At least I recognized those moments for what they were now instead of letting my past trauma damage my current relationships like it once did.

"Thank you for that," I said with a tired smile. "And for coming with me."

"As if we'd let you go without us," Malcolm scoffed. "Especially since Sean had to stay behind to try to talk to the Were Ruling Council. I hope he can resist the urge to dismantle the storage building with his bare hands after what Vaughan told you. At least Carly brought him scones. How she finds time to bake with everything else going on, I have no idea."

"I think she bakes because there's so much going on," I said. "We've all got our coping mechanisms."

"Hers just happens to be yummier than most," he agreed. "Or so I imagine. The scones look tasty, anyway."

"I can attest to their tastiness," Matthias said.

He'd spoken briefly to Sean while I was getting ready to run out the door and probably shared what Bryan had told him. We'd jumped right in the SUV after that and I hadn't had a chance to ask him anything. He'd obviously put it away to deal with later. Hearing him joke about my coffee consumption had eased my worry a bit, but I sensed he remained deeply troubled. I'd have to wait to talk to him until we had privacy .

Meanwhile, we had two ghosts in the back seat instead of the usual one because Malcolm had wanted to come with me to the Hensleys' and Liam didn't want to be separated from him, even safe behind our wards at home. Despite Liam's obvious anxiety about the possibility of being reclaimed by one of Moses's mages, he seemed to be doing fairly well. He'd only been imprisoned in a mage crystal for a few months, but to him it might have felt like eons.

He and Malcolm hovered quietly for most of our drive. I didn't sense tension between them, but I wondered about the silence. Maybe they'd talked for all the hours between when I'd released him from the crystal until I'd summoned Malcolm home to tell him about Gracie Hensley's phone call and they were just talked out for the time being.

To lessen our chances of being caught violating the curfew, I'd activated the Look Away and obfuscation spellwork I'd etched into the wheel wells of my recently purchased vehicle. They basically encouraged anyone who spotted us to ignore us, but we weren't invisible by any stretch of the imagination. It was, as I'd told Sean and Arkady before we left, simply the best I could do.

The curfew only applied within the city limits, so we'd seen several vehicles on the road on the way into town from the house. Soon, however, we were one of the few signs of life on eerie empty streets. Matthias drove slowly with the SUV's lights off, ready to pull to the curb the moment we spotted law enforcement or a SPEMA vehicle. I had a story prepared if we did get busted, but by some miracle we made it to the Hensleys' house without crossing paths with local cops or the feds. Most of the homes we passed were dark with curtains drawn, as if the occupants feared lights might attract the attention of the necromancer or spirits we planned to track and trap.

As soon as Matthias put the SUV in park in the driveway, I jumped out the passenger door and ran. My footsteps were the only sound on the empty street, so I cut across the lawn with Malcolm and Liam right behind me. I noticed the window broken by vandals had been covered with plywood.

The moment my boot touched the porch steps, the front door flew open to reveal Gracie in the doorway. Crying had made her face and eyes red, and angry dark marks on her throat showed where Oliver had tried to strangle her with his bare hands.

"Just you," she said to me, her eyes wild with fear as Matthias came up the sidewalk. "He'll only talk to you."

"This is my trainee," I lied. "He'll keep out of sight, but he can't stay outside." And he wouldn't, if I was any judge of his facial expressions.

"Okay," she said faintly as Matthias joined me near the door. His head brushed the support beams of the porch ceiling. At least his eyes weren't glowing, so she'd probably just think he was the biggest damn human she'd ever seen. Hopefully we could deal with the situation without her knowing there was a nearly seven-foot beta werewolf in her house on top of everything else.

She stepped aside so we could get inside and shrank back as Matthias passed. "We're here to help," he said kindly, his voice pitched low so it wouldn't carry farther than the entryway. "Alice will take care of your husband. Do you have a first aid kit so I can help you?"

Up close, I spotted small bloody gouges and scratches on her neck that looked exactly like the ones I'd made on myself when one of the spirits forced me to squeeze my own throat. I pushed away that memory before it could distract me from what I needed to do.

"Tell me what happened," I murmured to Gracie, who looked lost. "Give me the details."

"We were going to bed early because of the curfew. I thought we could watch some TV or a movie and try to get his mind off things. But as we lay there, he started looking more and more angry, and then he got very quiet, and then all of the sudden—" she took a ragged, sobbing breath "—he got on top of me and put his hands around my neck and squeezed. He looked so angry. I thought he was going to kill me. I was about to pass out, and then he let me go."

Matthias made a low rumbling sound that thankfully she didn't notice.

"Did he tell you why he attacked you?" I asked.

"He said he thought he was a killer, but then he couldn't go through with it and now he doesn't know who he is anymore. He just sat on the edge of the bed and cried while I tried to get my breath back. I thought he'd be okay, or he'd eventually be okay. But then he realized how much he'd hurt me."

What an absolute nightmare. "What did he do then?"

"I was kind of in a daze, like I was in shock. He went downstairs, got a knife, came back, and tried to cut his own throat right in front of me."

"Oh, jeez," Malcolm muttered.

"I managed to get the knife away from him." She held out her hand to show me several deep cuts on her palm. "I don't think he cut anything major on his neck, but he was definitely bleeding."

I kept my voice gentle because she looked so skittish. "Thank you for telling me the story. I'm so sorry about all of this. Let Matthias take care of you. Where is Oliver?"

"Our bathroom upstairs. I hear him in there moving around, but he won't talk to me." She swallowed hard and flinched. Her throat would be sore for a while, probably. "I have a first aid kit in the downstairs bathroom."

"Get the kit and stay down here with Matthias," I said. "I'll talk to Oliver and let you know when I think it's a good time for you to come upstairs."

She headed down the hall, sniffling.

"Thank you for offering to help her," I said to Matthias in an undertone. "Sorry to fib about why you're here, but it was easier than explaining. Try to keep her calm. Liam, do you mind staying down here while Malcolm and I go upstairs? Just to keep an eye on things while Matthias is busy. "

"Yes, ma'am." Liam flitted uneasily. "I'll do my best."

Malcolm touched Liam's hand reassuringly and followed me toward the stairs.

We crossed paths with Gracie carrying her first aid kit. "It'll be okay," I said, and hoped it was true.

She gave me a sniffly smile and followed Matthias toward the kitchen. Liam stayed right behind them, looking around nervously.

"Liam's okay," Malcolm assured me as we climbed the steps to the second floor. "He's just worried about the necromancer and the nasty ghosts. And Matthias too, a little, though he knows he can't actually do anything to him. The dude's just…gigantic."

I couldn't argue with that. The only person I knew who was as tall and muscular was Ronan. If Liam thought Matthias was intimidating, he'd be petrified of a giant fallen angel, even if he was mortal now. I made a mental note to reassure him about Ronan before he returned from whatever mysterious bounty hunter business had taken him out of state for a week.

The condition of Oliver and Gracie's bedroom sobered me instantly. Just a few days ago, the room looked straight out of a designer's portfolio. Now it was a testament to the violence Gracie had endured. Most of the bedding was on the floor and blood splattered the sheets. Bloody handprints and smears along the wall and a dresser indicated where Oliver had staggered from the bed to the bathroom. I spotted another smear of blood on the bathroom door and a smudge on the handle.

The silence in the bathroom caused a ball of dread to form in my stomach. I laid on the floor and peered through the tiny gap under the door. Drops of blood on the tile floor led to a pair of bare feet on the rug near the exterior wall. Oliver was probably sitting on the side of the tub. I took a deep breath and let it out before I rose.

"You good?" Malcolm asked.

I nodded grimly. Unfortunately, Oliver would be far from the first person I'd had to talk back from the ledge. My own experiences on ledges helped me empathize with those who found themselves in such misery and hopelessness that death seemed like the only answer.

If nothing else, I hoped my evidence, while not yet sufficient to persuade a human court or D.A. to drop the charges against him, might be enough for him to accept that he wasn't a killer. Then he and Gracie would need counseling to try to repair the damage done to their relationship.

"Oliver?" I called. "It's Alice Worth. Are you okay?"

For several moments, I didn't get a response. When it came, his voice sounded rough. "Go away."

Very quietly and gently so he couldn't hear me doing it, I tried the door handle and confirmed it was locked. "Hey, Oliver," I said, making my voice as kind and sympathetic as I could. "Gracie called me and asked me to come over and talk to you. You did the right thing and let her go. She's going to be okay."

No answer this time, but at least he hadn't repeated his demand that I leave.

"I know you're really angry and upset right now," I continued. "And I understand that. I can't imagine how you're feeling. But I have good news. I have evidence I can show you that proves you weren't responsible for what happened to Madison Fernell."

"I killed Madison. I stabbed her over and over again and I cut her throat."

"Your body did, but you didn't," I countered calmly. "If you'll let me in, I'll show you proof."

If I could get within reach, I could drop him with a sleep spell so he wouldn't be a threat to anyone, including himself, until I could reach Philippa Grayson and hopefully get him inpatient treatment and professional counseling.

"There is no proof," Oliver grated. "You're trying to trick me. It's not going to work."

"If I show you some proof, will you open the door for me? I'll give you space. I'm only here to talk."

"What about that guy downstairs? What's he here for? "

Dang it. I'd worried that he'd seen us arrive from the window. "He's an apprentice private investigator. He's just keeping Gracie company." I didn't tell him Matthias was also giving Gracie first aid. No sense bringing up her injuries. "I asked him to stay downstairs. It's just me here at the door."

"You say you have evidence." His voice remained rough and suspicious. "What kind of evidence?"

"I've got some evidence at home that we're going to use to locate the person who's really responsible for Madison's death. I plan to get them into police custody tonight. I've also got some photos and video on my phone that show the spirit that possessed you."

Another long silence. I didn't like the feeling of that silence. I suspected Oliver was in a very dark place.

"If I show you the photo of the spirit, will you let me in to talk to you?" I asked.

"Okay," he said reluctantly.

On my phone, I opened the image taken from the sandwich shop's surveillance video that showed the spirit leaving the alley after the murder. "Here's one picture," I said, and slipped the phone under the door.

Bare feet crossed the floor toward me. A shadow appeared under the door as Oliver bent down to take my phone.

I gave him a moment to look at the photo, then said, "You see it, right? There's another video taken in the parking garage from when the spirit latched on to you. By themselves, it's not enough for the D.A. to dismiss the charges against you, but once we catch that spirit and turn the person in who controlled them, you'll be exonerated." I hoped. "You're an innocent man, Oliver. Can I please come in and talk to you face-to-face now?"

The lock clicked and then his footsteps retreated. "It's open," he said. Now he just sounded tired.

I let out a breath and touched Malcolm's ghostly hand. Go check on Matthias and Liam , I said. Let Matthias know I'm talking to Oliver. We'll come downstairs when he's calmed down and cleaned up .

You sure? he asked, clearly unhappy. I know you don't think he's possessed again, but d ude's already been violent once tonight.

I know, but I think we're done with that. If there's a problem, I'll let you know.

Reluctantly, he zipped away.

I turned the door handle, slipped inside, and shut the door behind me.

In a bloody T-shirt and pajama pants, Oliver stood in the middle of the bathroom about where I'd drawn my circle the other day to check him for magic. His chin nearly rested on his chest and his shoulders were hunched in what I supposed was despair. As Gracie had described, his throat showed several shallow knife wounds that had bled profusely but hadn't nicked either his carotid or jugular. On a couple of cuts in particular, less than an inch or so either way and he'd be dead now.

"Hey, Oliver," I said gently. "It's going to be okay."

He avoided my eyes and said nothing. His expression was so devoid of emotion that my uneasiness came back with a vengeance. Was he in shock after seeing the image of the spirit, or because of what he'd done to Gracie? Or both? He might even be experiencing some kind of breakdown.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," I said, keeping my voice kind and calm. "Like I said, I can't imagine how you feel, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel now. I promise you are not a killer."

Oliver's head remained bowed, but for the first time, he flicked his gaze up to me. "But what if I am?"

For a moment, another face appeared superimposed over his like an out-of-focus photo or afterimage. It flashed in and out so quickly that I might have chalked it up to my imagination or some kind of strange aftereffect of the concussion or my recent exorcism…

…except I knew that face. I'd seen it just yesterday hovering only inches from my own.

My stomach dropped .

My phone. He'd taken my phone. I saw its outline in his pajama pocket. Son of a bitch .

Fury and dread gave way to cold focus as I spooled magic.

Oliver smiled and put his finger to his lips. "Shh, little birdie," he said, his voice a rough blend of his own and the spirit's. "Be quiet, or everyone in this house dies."