31. Wicche vs. Gun

Once in the back seat, I went into my backpack and pulled out a sketchbook and pencils. "If you can keep the ride as smooth as possible, I'd appreciate it."

Hernández turned in her seat. "You have a face for us?"

I nodded. "I've got both of them as teenagers. At a guess, I'd say they were fourteen or fifteen. And then I have one as an adult. He was standing in the dark, but I have a feel for his adult face."

I started working on last night's killer as a teen and had a thought. "Can you guys get yearbooks for the school?"

"We're already working on it," Osso said, "but the school loves nothing more than to deny requests and line up lawyers to shout about privacy."

"Is there an assumption of privacy for a yearbook?" I asked.

"You wouldn't think," Hernández replied. "It's filled with pictures and names and handed out to the entire student body. We got a judge to sign the warrant, but they're fighting it."

"All their damn stalling stunts are getting people killed. If they'd cooperated from the jump, we might have a line on these bastards, and maybe Luis Garza would still be alive."

We were all frustrated into silence. Closing my eyes, I found the face again and drew.

By the time I was finishing the third face, I looked up and realized no one was in the front seat and the car was parked in front of the gallery.

Hernández, Osso, and Declan were sitting on the steps chatting. I put my pencils away and tried to open the door, but it was locked. All the windows were open, so I called, "Am I under arrest?"

Declan laughed and Osso took out his keys and hit the unlock button. I walked over, handed Hernández my sketchbook, and sat beside Declan. He wrapped an arm around me and kissed my head.

"Sorry I'm late," I said, resting my hand on his knee.

"We didn't set a time and you were busy." He looked over Osso's shoulder at the sketches.

"Oh, here," I said, taking back the sketchbook and ripping out the three pages. They were trying to be careful with the images, gently flipping the sheets back and forth. Now they could study them all at once.

Osso tapped the adult portrait. "This one killed the teacher and the groundskeeper."

Hernández shook the taller teen's portrait. "And this one killed your cousin and the dean."

"Yes," I said. "That feels right."

"Okay," Hernández said, standing up. "We'll let you have your dinner. Thank you, Arwyn."

Osso stood as well. "We'll get started trying to identify them through the images. You two have a good evening."

They drove away, leaving Declan and me on the steps.

"What's for dinner?" I asked.

"Mexican food. I went back to Mariana's and ordered a little bit of everything." He stood. "It's still in my truck. I'll go grab it and we'll heat it up," he said, heading around the far side of the gallery.

"Wait. You actually parked in the parking lot?"

"I decided I was setting a bad example. If people keep seeing cars parked in front, they'll think it's okay." He rounded the corner and was out of sight.

Returning the sketchbook to the backpack, I looked up when a car skidded to a stop, kicking up pebbles. The passenger side window rolled down and the sweaty man lifted a gun.

"Get in now," he snarled.

Declan raced back around the corner, but I held up a hand, asking him to stop. I knew it was probably killing him to do it, but he waited.

Was this what Calliope had planned for me? "I'm not going to do that." I kept eye contact while searching for the honey bottle. I knew some very basic spells still worked after touching Declan, but I wasn't taking any chances with this one.

His eyes darted to Declan once and then they were trained on me. The fervor, the obsession, were shining in them.

Finding the bottle, I squirted it on my hands, and I saw, as clearly as a movie, exactly what he wanted to do with me. I almost lost my footing on the step, but I had to put it aside. He'd never get control of me and therefore none of what he dreamed of would happen. At the bottom of the steps, I flicked my fingers and jammed his gun. "I need you to go and never come back. Do you understand me?"

"No."

I gave him a magical shove, but still he stayed, staring, willing me to get in his car. And then I felt it. Calliope was in there, pushing him. "You again?" I said, adding more of a punch this time.

Shaking, blood beginning to drip from his nose, his focus never left me. Jaw clenched, eyes wild, his free hand wiped at the blood. "Get in," he ground out, but there was a petulant whine to it.

"That's never going to happen, oh cousin of mine. You want to truck with demons, give up your soul, that's on you. Why, though, are you dragging all of us into it? Go be evil somewhere else."

"Fucking bitch," he spat out, pulling the trigger.

Declan dove on a roar as a concussive bang had my ears ringing. He twisted us, mid-tackle, so he was skidding on the asphalt and I was on top of him. His hands were all over my head, checking for a wound. "Are you hit?"

I kissed his nose.

Sitting up, confused, he checked my body, no doubt looking for blood.

"I'm fine."

His squeezed my hips. "How are you fine? It was pointed right at you when he fired." He wrapped his arms around me tightly and leaned back so he was lying on the pavement again. "God. I was so scared. I can't remember ever being that scared in my life. I'd just found you and he took you away."

"Nope." I snuggled in. "I'm right here. We're both okay, but he's not."

"I smell blood."

"Yeah. That's because his gun jammed and exploded in his hand." I climbed off and gave him my hand, yanking him to his feet.

"I keep forgetting how strong you are."

"You should never forget that," I said, pulling my phone out and tapping on Hernández.

"Hello," she answered.

"I'm going to need you to come back." I looked in the window. "My stalker returned and tried to abduct me at gunpoint—"

A loud roar had me pulling the phone from my ear. It was followed by squealing tires.

"Tell Osso to slow down. He's dead. I think his gun jammed and blew up in his face."

There was a loaded silence and then Osso said, "Yeah. That'll work. Call 911 and tell them you just contacted us. You were scared and not thinking, so you called the cop you knew before them. We'll be there in a few."

I did as I was directed and then Declan and I resumed our seats on the steps and waited.

Declan wrapped an arm around me. "If it makes you feel any better, you didn't have a choice. He was never going to stop."

"No. He wasn't, especially with Cal pushing him."

"Still sucks, though," he said.

"It really does. Remember when Dave told us that having a sorcerer working in a particular area causes all kinds of problems that aren't related but are? The evil seeps in and causes people, who might normally have been able to control their urges, to indulge in their most wicked desires?

"This one," I continued, "might have always been obsessed—I think some people are affected by the fae blood—but it would have taken the form of visiting the gallery too often and staring, the fantasy staying trapped up here." I tapped my forehead. "Instead, he bought a gun today so he could kidnap me and act on all those dark fantasies."

"You think your cousin sent this guy?"

"I know she did. I felt her. She found some guy teetering on the edge and pushed him over it. When he was sitting in his car, watching me paint the mural, I didn't feel her. You sensed the obsession, but he wasn't homicidal until she twisted the obsession, making it dark and violent."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Me too. She knows I have stalker issues. She's probably laughing her ass off right now. She was there for one when I was a teenager. We were at a family picnic on the beach. I was sitting on the rocks, away from the group, trying to decide if I should go swimming. The ocean always made me happy, but I was in maybe eighth grade. The boobs had developed, and certain cousins enjoyed teasing me."

"Fucking Colin," he said.

I kissed his cheek. "Exactly, although not just him. Anyway, this guy showed up—late twenties maybe—and sat down next to me, trying to get me to engage, asking all these questions. I knew I could get rid of him, but it was scary, you know?"

He nodded. "And all the spells you know to make strange people go away are useless if he touches your skin and you're out, lost in a vision."

"Yes." I tipped my head onto his shoulder, amazed every time I was able to touch him. "Anyway, I looked and thought I saw Calliope watching. Everyone else was in the water, eating, talking, not paying attention to me. Cal walked over to the adults, and I hoped she was going to get my mom. Nope. She got a cookie, sat down, and started chatting. No one looked my way. At the time, I assumed I was wrong, that she hadn't seen the guy. Now, well, lots of memories have had to be altered.

"Anyway, the guy kept asking me my name and if I wanted to go for a walk. He knew a great place just down the beach. I hit him with a go-away spell, and he stood for a moment, but then sat back down and launched into his you're so beautiful spiel again. I hit him with a spell, he stood, and then sat back again.

"I heard familiar laughter and turned back to the group to see Cal watching us, one hand fisted on the table. She was spelling the guy to stay."

"I don't understand," Declan said. "How did you know?"

"The fist. You know when I do spells, my fingers are moving?"

He nodded.

"Cal uses a fist. When she saw me looking, she quickly got my mom, who stormed over, yelling and spelling as she came. The guy took off at a run and then Cal came over, saying she was trying to help me get rid of him, but her magic wasn't strong enough yet. My mother patted her shoulder and thanked her for helping me, reassuring her that her magic would strengthen as she got older. Remember, Cal is only a little younger than me, but she's petite and likes to play on people's impulses to take care of her. She went back for another cookie, all smiles, and I got yelled at for being away from the group and not practicing my spells well enough to get a creep to leave me alone."

"Fucking Calliope," he said, making me laugh.

I hugged him around the middle. "Thanks for being on my side."

"It's my favorite place to be."

A patrol car arrived, skidding to a stop. The officer got out of his vehicle and drew on us. Declan raised his left hand, and I raised my right. Our other arms were wrapped around each other.

"Dude," I said. "He's the bad guy, not us."

"I'd appreciate if you lowered your weapon," Declan said, not doing the best job of keeping the growl out of his voice. "She's already had one gun in her face today."

Thankfully, Osso pulled up a moment later, jumped out of the car, and stood between the patrol officer and us, so we put our hands down. Osso kept his voice low, but from the way the man wilted, I'd guess he'd been dressed down quite harshly. The cop quickly got back into his car and pulled away.

"Idiot," Osso grumbled. He gave Declan and me one assessing look and then met Hernández at the stalker's car. They both put on gloves. Hernández opened the passenger's door while Osso went around to the driver's.

Hernández hesitated and turned to us. "Did either of you touch anything?"

We both shook our heads.

"We need to make sure he doesn't need assistance and then we'll take your statements," she said.

"I've got this," Osso said. "You go ahead and get started. I'll call in the coroner."

"Oh, great," I said.

Hernández paused, pulling off her gloves. "See if you can get Andy to come. I think he's back on nights."

Osso nodded and then hit the trunk button. When it opened, Hernandez, Declan, and I saw a hatchet, a tire iron, and an unzipped duffle bag with rope, zip ties, and duct tape. Whatever else was in there, I couldn't see and didn't want to know about.

Hernández moved to block my view of the trunk. "Why don't you guys go in and we'll come for your statements in a few minutes?"

Osso joined her at the trunk and gave Declan a look before tilting his head. I read it as well as Declan, who stood and pulled me up with him. They wanted me out of here.

"I really do appreciate you guys trying to protect me, but I already know what he planned to do with me." The sun had finally set, and the scene was getting dark. "I'll put on the outdoor lights. We'll be in the studio when you're ready."

Hernández nodded. Declan grabbed my backpack and we headed in. I knew the man's death had been his own fault, that he'd pulled the trigger, but even though there was one fewer man in the world who wanted to hurt me, I couldn't help but feel like there were too damn many to begin with.