Chapter 30 Witch Games
Sebastian Breese checked his laptop and wrote his hourly notes in a house near downtown Serenity.
He was on demon-baby duty, waiting for someone to relieve him so he could go nose around Trevor’s place for the witch.
Sebastian had worked the Abigail White investigation for almost six months before he’d been put on demon-baby duty, and he knew the witch better than anyone.
His monitors showed traffic on the street: Timber in an unmarked truck.
Sebastian called Timber in ruhi. Park on Chestnut Street. Blue house behind the gas station. Back door’s unlocked.
Within a few moments, the back door opened and closed.
Upstairs, Sebastian said. He was set up in a back bedroom, where he could see the house the demon babies were being raised in. His workstation was a door laid across two sawhorses, and single laptop set up on top of it, with a five-gallon bucket for a chair. Behind him was a mattress and a pillow.
Timber walked in. Sebastian lifted his chin.
“Seb,” Timber said, looking around. “The department went all out for you.”
Sebastian hooked his thumb out the window. “Gotta stay mobile… and ready. They move around a lot.”
Timber looked out the window, then at the laptop. Four views showed on the screen. An empty living room. Two outside views in the window, and a dark room.
“Nothing going on over there right now,” Seb said. “The young are napping.” He tapped the dark room. “Write your observations on the top of the hour, every hour. You only gotta worry if they do anything demonic.”
“And then what, I call you?”
Seb slapped a keyring on the table with a single key. “Key to the house. Notify Wade, then kill them both.”
Timber didn’t say anything. He picked the key up, then put it back down gently, then said. “Maybe I’ll wait for you.”
“Maybe you’ll doom everyone.”
“I gotta kill babies!?”
“Only if they do something, you know, use powers, or grow horns or tails, or speak in tongues.”
“Okay, okay,” Timber said. He sat down grumpily. “Hurry the fuck back.”
Sebastian left. He jogged to his own truck, which was parked several blocks away. He drove through town, heading west toward Trevor’s place, running over everything he knew about the witch in his mind.
He arrived, drove slowly up the driveway with his windows down, listening for any word from his wolf. Trevor’s house came into view, and he stared intently at it, checking each window in turn, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
Sebastian parked in Trevor’s spot and got out of his truck, filtering the sounds and scents of VF.
The house itself should be empty, but it seemed like a whole mess of people were out back.
Sebastian went up the porch steps on high alert.
The front door was unlocked, and he pushed it open, then closed and locked it behind him.
He stood in the foyer for a few minutes, listening, assessing.
The witch had a presence for sure. It was light, and concentrated strangely, but definitely there.
Sebastian went to the back door and locked it, then pulled the drapes shut. He strode through the house, making sure no people were inside and mentally marking off areas where the witch was not.
Within five minutes, he was back near the front door.
He walked into the living room, eyes roaming over the coffee table, the couch, the TV, the rug.
He sat on the couch, then he sat in another chair.
He put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back like he was lounging, but really, he was examining the ceiling and the high corners.
He dropped his feet back to the floor, then examined it.
He lifted the rug. He went to the TV and ran his hands over it, then sat in each chair and love seat near it.
He listened and he scented and he sensed, until he was absolutely certain of what he was perceiving.
Near the middle of the room, just above his head, he found what he was looking for: a spot of alive energy.
He circled the spot slowly, reaching out with his mind.
It was small, about the size of a toaster.
The air in this spot shimmered and moved ever so slightly.
Sebastian reached up and swiped a hand through it.
His skin chilled until his bones ached. He dropped his hand, knowing he had found the nexus.
Sebastian stared at it. He walked under it.
He walked around it, his mind focused and probing.
He’d never dealt with this kind of situation before, but he was confident he could square it away.
He knew enough about White and her operations and he’d had enough near-misses with her, that he knew her in some small way.
It was clear to him that she was somehow able to hold this tiny energy-window open and hear through it, maybe see through it, which was some prime bullshit, in his opinion.
“Be-fucking-gone,” Sebastian barked at the spot, loud and quick and staccato.
Nothing happened. He may have heard wispy laughter from above his head.
Sebastian growled, then said, “Your invitation is withdrawn. You’re not welcome, so get the fuck out, witch.”
No response. The cube of cold energy remained. Sebastian paced around it, thinking about what he could do to get her to respond.
“You’re Boe’s sister, aren’t you?” he said slyly. There was no response.
“Which means you’re marked.”
Still no response.
Sebastian thought some more, then reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
He opened it and dug into it, pulling out his most precious possession.
It was a warped and worn coin that he’d carried with him since he was 12.
He flipped the coin in the air, tossing it through the cold shimmering spot, then catching it in his hand.
The shimmering spot seemed to quicken and solidify, then a flat POP sounded in the room and a note dropped to the floor.
Sebastian laughed quietly. He didn’t have to read the note to know what it said.
I want it.
“I know you do, witch. Get out.”
POP. Another note. Seb didn’t have to read this one either.
You’ll give it to me if I go?
Sebastian laughed again, louder now, antagonizing her just for the fun of it. “You want this, you’ll have to kill me first.”
There was no response.
“Witch. You’re leaving, now.”
POP. The note landed atop the others.
I need incentive.
“Fuck your incentive. You’re not welcome here. Get out of this house or I’ll come to you.”
He swiped a hand through the cold area, bluffing his ass off. He hadn’t been able to find her for months, but he knew it could be done through this opening—somehow.
I have a right to be here. Service requested.
“Your service is performed and done and over. If I have to tell you to get out again, I’ll be coming for your ass,” he growled.
Another note popped in. This one he was unable to mentally read. He picked it up off the pile of notes.
Impetus cannot be removed like that. Must dissipate. Will not for two days.
“Fuck,” Sebastian muttered. He’d told Trevor he could clear the house in an hour’s time. He thought and considered for several minutes, weighing his options.
“Come on then,” he finally said.
The cube of energy shimmered. It lowered to him, touching him on the top of the head, then grew and surrounded him, chilling him.
The bit of the witch that was free-floating in the house attached itself to him.
Cold spider feet climbed through his hair to his left ear and into his brain.
Sebastian gritted his teeth at the sensation.
It was awful and disgusting, like having slime or sludge or sewer water poured over your head.
The witch began to rummage around in his thoughts, delightedly, looking to see what was there.
Sebastian imagined the major events of his life and his memories as solid objects contained within bank vaults behind metal doors and he began mentally shutting each one.
White ran ahead of him, finding his time in the war camps and his subsequent training to enter the KSRT. She went for it, mentally eager.
Sebastian imagined a massive steel repository in his mind, one big enough to encompass his knowledge of police procedure and strong enough to withstand any attack.
This shiny room was stuffed full of shelves, books, manuals, and experiences.
He slammed the door in the witch’s face.
White veered off to one side and found another treasure trove of memories and associations—his early life with the bearen.
SLAM—Sebastian walled it off. She ran for his recent memories. SLAM.
Sebastian laughed and headed for the front door, now speaking to the witch. If you want to hang out with me, it’ll be plenty boring.
But she’d already found something else, a trove that Sebastian considered innocent enough. Pup tales—stories shiften told their young to pass on history and tradition. Sebastian knew more bearen cub tales than wolven pup tales. He considered… then he let her in.
“Have fun,” he muttered.
His mission successful, Sebastian left Trevor’s house and did not look back.