Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
And for Our Finale, We’re Going to…
As we walked outside, I whispered to Bracken, “Cameras?” I knew he’d hear me, and he did.
His fingers swirled. He paused then nodded. “Phones and security cameras are off.”
Thank goodness. The last thing we needed was for people to share videos of Bracken and me committing crimes.
In no time at all, we got Catherine in her vehicle, seat belted, with her handprints on the vodka bottle.
We’d tipped a bit in her mouth. Because she sucks so much, I also dumped some down her clothes.
I put the bottle in her cup holder, then hit the ignition button on the car.
She did in fact have her keys on her because it started right up.
We double-checked everything, closed the door, and stepped away.
“There was a turnout we passed,” Bracken said. “It’s back maybe a quarter mile on this road.”
I considered a moment. “We have to go there and spell the car to come to us.” I looked at Mom, who was standing near us.
“It’s like the teacups I spelled onto the dining table.
Someone could have been gesturing and one of my cups would have been hit and broken.
I needed to see what I was doing to be safe. ”
Bracken nodded. “You’re right. I can picture what the turnout looked like when we passed it, but what if there’s another car there now, or a child playing, a dog being walked? We need to be there to make sure no one is injured.”
Mom put her hand out to keep a woman from bumping into me. While we’d been working, the group had been creeping forward, listening intently. “You can’t touch my daughter.”
The woman quickly stepped back, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. My hearing isn’t great.”
I turned to Lydia. “Please keep everyone away from the car. When Bracken and I move it—assuming we can do this—we don’t want to accidentally take an innocent bystander. We’re going to go to a turnout Bracken remembers and work from there.”
As everyone was listening, I decided to speak to the group at large. “If we can do this, the car will disappear and Catherine will be where the police can arrest her without any of you or this restaurant being involved. If we can’t, we’ll move on to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?” a man asked.
I shrugged. “Haven’t come up with that yet. We’re still working on plan A.” I turned back to Mom and Faith. “Either way, we’ll be back in a few.”
Bracken and I took off, jogging down the drive to where he’d parked his car. We got in and he turned to me. “I’m not sure this will work, but I think if anyone could do it, it’d be the two of us.”
I smacked his arm. “I was thinking the same thing. Dad says fae power is basically exerting your will over the world. The world is filled with magic. We’re made of magic. We need to tell the world what we want, believe we can do it, and make it happen. So, I know this is going to work.”
Chuckling, he backed out and started up the drive. “The power of positive thinking. All right. I’m with you. We can and will do this.”
When we got to the gate, the same older man was there.
Bracken rolled down his window. “We’re running an errand for the Council. We should be back in a few minutes.”
He nodded and opened the gate, all while continuing the game he was playing on his phone.
We got to the turnout in no time. Thankfully, there were no cars, no babies, and no dogs. There were a few cyclists on the road, but we waited for them to pass.
Bracken pointed at a particularly large oak at the edge of the turnout. “We put it there.”
I nodded and took off my left glove. When Bracken had kissed my cheek a few days ago and hadn’t caused visions, I knew this would be safe. Either his fae blood protected him or he knew how to protect me.
I held out my hand and he took it. Power pulsed between us.
“Picture her car exactly as it is,” he said. “On the count of three, we bring it here,”
I nodded, calling on my fae magic to do as I directed. While Bracken counted, I focused my full attention on Catherine and her damn car. On three, I picked it up in my mind and threw it against the tree.
Bracken’s hand crushed mine as I shouted, “Shit!”
My heart stopped and then raced. “We did it. We moved a fricking car!”
He laughed. “We did indeed.”
I was about to put my glove back on when I noticed my naked hand. “I’m shaking.” I pulled out my phone, tapped through screens, and called Osso.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“We have Catherine Swan for you,” I told him.
“Where?”
I explained I was an anonymous tipster, then went through where she was.
“I’ll contact local PD. Drop a pin in a map for me so they don’t waste time looking for her.”
I had him on speakerphone while I went into Maps and figured out how to drop a pin and send it to him.
“Also, Detective,” Bracken said, “it’s a small town. I’m sure if you tell them she’s at the turnout near Rockaway Beach, they’ll know where to go.”
“I’m not taking any chances with this one,” he grumbled.
“Don’t let her harm herself,” Bracken added. “Black wicches can use their own pain to power spells as well.”
“I didn’t know that,” I told him.
He nodded. “By nature, black wicches are sociopathic. They’ll always put their own comfort ahead of others. In fact—”
“You don’t need me for this, and I have work to do,” Osso growled before he disconnected.
I pocketed the phone. “At least him being rude feels more normal that his recent politeness.”
Bracken pulled onto the road, heading back to the restaurant. “It’s probably because you’re pregnant. Shifters are very protective of mothers.”
“Declan said the same thing.”
We had barely turned onto the restaurant drive when a police car flew past us in the opposite direction.
“Looks like they got the message,” Bracken said.
The man was still at the gate, waiting for us, holding it open.
I rolled down my window and said, “Thank you.”’
He nodded, his eyes and thumb still on his screen.
When we got past the trees, we saw everyone was still standing in the parking lot. “Shoot,” I groused. “I was really hoping they’d be leaving by now.”
Bracken shook his head, pulling into the spot Catherine had been in. “After we relocated a car? Remember how we felt when it appeared? That’s how they felt when it disappeared.”
Mom yanked open my door and tried to grab my gloved hand, but I quickly fisted it, hiding the bare, burned palm. “You did it!” she shouted. “That was incredible.”
When Bracken and I stepped out, the group applauded, all but Miranda and another woman. I clocked them both, but as neither was currently trying to curse me, I let it go.
“A cop car passed us as we were turning in, so they have her now,” I told everyone. “We should probably start taking off. It’s time to leave the scene of the not-a-crime. The scene of the civic-duty-to-put-a-murderer-in-jail.”
Mom raised her eyebrows at me. “That runs trippingly off the tongue, darling.”
“Right?”
“Wait a minute,” the woman beside Miranda called. “What did you do to our phones?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bracken’s fingers twirl at his side. “Phones? We didn’t do anything. I mean, I kept your buddy there from narc-ing on me, but we didn’t touch anyone else’s.”
A woman took her phone out and announced, “It’s working now.” The others pulled out phones to check if theirs, too, were working. Most cast sly looks in Bracken’s direction. They knew he was the one who’d instituted radio silence, and they seemed to understand why.
Lydia and Mom were talking as people went to their cars and started to pull out and leave. Most smiled or waved at us as they passed, which I took as a good sign.
“Speaking of phones…” I pulled mine out and called Declan.
“I was getting worried,” he grumbled. “Are you okay?”
“You bet. And honestly,” I whispered loudly, “Faith did a horrible job of reminding me to call you. In fact, she told me not to bother. She said you weren’t the boss of me and that we’d be home soon enough anyway.”
“Hey,” Faith squawked. “Lies, all lies.”
Declan laughed. “As long as you’re all okay, I can wait to hear the details when you get home.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you in about two hours, unless we stop for food. Which we might. I’m starving.” I looked at Faith and Bracken. “Are you guys hungry?”
Faith nodded. “I was so nervous this morning, I couldn’t eat.”
Lydia and Mom joined us. Lydia said, “There are lots of wonderful seafood restaurants nearby.” She turned to Bracken. “Take 1 South to Half Moon Bay and stop at Sam’s Chowder House. They have the best lobster rolls.”
My stomach growled. “I’ll take two.”
“Can you bring me some too?” Declan asked.
“You bet. I’ll text when we’re on the road home.”
“It’s settled,” Mom said. “Lydia, it was wonderful to see you again. Thank you so much for all your help.”
She nodded, smiling at all of us. “And I hope you decide to return to the group. We’d love to have you.”
Most had left by the time we were pulling out, but a few were still standing in groups, talking. The man was no longer at the open gate. The meeting was over, so the need for security was gone. Bracken had input the restaurant to his GPS, so we were on our way to food.
We got there in no time. The restaurant was deceptively bland on the outside, looking like nothing so much as a squat, industrial building.
That all changed when we walked in to glossy dark wood and panoramic views of the ocean.
It was a long restaurant that hugged the cliff, with outdoor deck seating as well.
We arrived in that weird time between lunch and dinner, but the place still held a good-sized crowd.
We were seated quickly at a table by the window. Much like the purple, we were united in our orders. We all had salads, chowder, and lobster rolls. As Lydia promised, it was delicious.
I ordered Declan everything we had, as well as a salmon entrée and a dish of scampi stuffed with crab. Yum. I wanted to try that myself.
I gave the waitress my card before Mom or Bracken could. When Mom made a fuss, I reminded her that my boyfriend’s meal was larger than what all of us had consumed. She conceded the point.
Given we were leaving the restaurant at the height of the evening commute, we decided to stick to Highway 1, the scenic, coastal route, all the way home. Sometime during the drive, exhaustion and a full stomach got the better of me, and I nodded off.
A hand reaches down to the bottom of a desk, pushes a hidden release, taps a second, and a shallow drawer, hidden beneath the others and invisible to the eye, pops open.
Light reflects off a thin bar of metal, a men’s tie clip.
It drops into the drawer, where it joins necklaces and bracelets, watches and hair ties.
He runs his fingers over his trophies, remembering all the work he did to get where he is. He was born for the halls of power.