War-N-Wit, Inc. - The Witch (6 page)

I sat back, knowing that my eyes were wider
than saucers.

"You have the most beautiful
eyes," he said. "That blue rim around the dark green that runs into
the brown around the pupil."

"I don't have a blue rim around my
eyes," I protested, which was an absolute lie. I'd noticed it before, but
it was so slight I'd thought I must be imagining it.

"Sure you do.
Puts
out a blue aura around you.
You really should talk to your sister, you
know."

"My sister?
Antsypants?"

He laughed.
"Yeah,
Antsypants.
Don't know if your parents had any power or knew they did,
but they sure named the two of you perfectly.
Ariel and
Anastasia.
Perfect names for a beautiful pair of
witches.
Antsypants knows a lot more than you do about what the two of
you actually are, not nearly as closed to it. Why do you think she seems
so—well, bright—and you seem so mysterious?"

"Nobody thinks I'm mysterious except
you."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, like I said.
Most people don't have a clue what they're actually looking at. Knocked you out
enough on that, I think. Want to move on to other unanswered questions?"

Please.
Immediately.
Anything
else.

"Okay. Did you really remember me from
the first time I talked to you?
On Mark's case?"

"Absolutely.
I recognized you as soon as you answered the phone."

"Recognized me?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, baby
girl."

"Okay. So—you pursued so relentlessly
that day because you
recognized
me?"

"Uh-huh. You were back, you see. Well,
not back, exactly, just found. I knew that if I was right, if you were really
who I thought you were, you'd come back. And you did.
Within
a month."

"But then you vanished. For two and a
half weeks."

"That was for you. I was sure, but I
still didn't have a clue if you knew."

"You've already said I didn't have any
idea I'm a witch,
which
I'm
not—
"

"Yes, you are, but that's not what I
meant. I meant
,
I didn't know if you knew who I was.
And I knew if you did, even if you didn't know you did, you'd contact me.
Which you did."

"I
still
don't know who you are!" I exclaimed. "You're—you're—talking like a
crazy person and I'm sitting here
listening
,
which I still don't believe—"

"You're listening because you know I'm
right. So let's cut to the bare essentials. We've been here before, you and I,
many times, we are
one
, baby girl, we
are each other's eternal soul mates, each other's other half, and I know it and
you
know it. And if nothing else, I
intended to establish enough contact so I can find you easier next time. And if
you refuse to believe it and believe in
us
and I have to wait till next time, then I will.
But I will find you again.
Because you can run but you can't hide.
I just want as much of you as I can get this time so it won't take so long next
time." He shrugged again. "Last time I didn't find you till we were
both so much older it almost wasn't worth it. That one was a bitch. And I don't
intend for it to happen again."

Chapter Nine

The world stood still, closed in,
retreated, kaleidoscoped back out into swirls of scenes of places and times I'd
never been, never seen. Hot, bright sun beat down on an arena covered in sand
and blood, my heart ripping apart as I looked at the bodies lying so still
amidst the roars of the approving, raucous crowd. I felt the biting cold, so
cold it burned, coming from the snow stretching out across what I knew,
knew
with absolute certainty, to be the
Russian steppes. I cringed from the visions of the shadowed chambers filled
with monstrous man-made instruments of pain and the screams rolling out of
them. I stood on the mountains in the mists and heard the faint echo of
bagpipes. I saw blue water and shining white sand and smelled the salt air.

I swayed and felt the blood drain out of my
face. He stretched his arm out and encircled me quickly, pulling me close. I
didn't pull away.

"Oh, God!
Too much too quick, huh?
I'm
sorry,
I didn't think you'd go into total flashback."

I was beginning to get my bearings back a
bit. "I'm fine. And it wasn't a flashback, it was—it was—it was a whole
lot of whatever it was.
Which was nothing.
I'm crazy,
you're crazy. This is a—shared delusion." I sat up straight.
Time to put the conversation back on a normal frame of reference.
"Are you through? I have a lot of shopping to do, are you coming or are
you a typical man who doesn't like to shop?"

He raised his eyebrow. "I'm not a
typical anything, baby girl."

You're telling me. But for the rest of the
afternoon, he was charmingly
normal
as he walked beside me in the mall, offering opinions when I asked, carrying
bags without protest. I looked at Kay's Jewelers and remembered I was almost
past due to get my ring cleaned and setting checked. Scott was insistent about
that as it kept the warranties in place. He'd be really hacked off it I let
that warranty lapse.

"Do you mind if I pop in here a
minute? You don't have to come."

"Need your ring cleaned and don't
think it's tactful to wave your engagement ring in my face?"

I knew my expression just screamed,
"Got me!
But how?"

"I'm not reading your mind, precious,
you looked at the store, you looked at your ring,
you
looked at me. Not very forthcoming with the big bucks, though, is he?
Kay's?"

My ring was not, in fact, particularly
large, but it was elegant. I didn't really like flashy and being a typist,
actually didn't like large rings on my hands, and jewelry had never meant
anything to me except insofar as who had given it to me or who it had belonged
to.

"I like it," I said.

"Baby girl, any man putting a ring on
your finger ought to put one on big enough to blind folks passing your desk
while you type. A stone from the Miami
or Houston market.
Special setting.
One of a kind ring
for a one of a kind half-witch, half-bitch. While you're giving your two week's
notice, that is."

"You have something against wives
working?"

"'Course not. But you'll have a hell
of a time commuting from Quitman. And besides, you'll be working with me.
You're a
natural,
I'm thinking you might even be
better than me at the prelims. Who do you think the 'Wit' is in
War-N-Wit?"

"Suppose Wit never shows up?"

"She's here, baby girl. Oh, I know you
don't ever plan to see me again after today. But that ain't happenin'.
Goin' to be fighting you hard on that one.
But I won't be
back up till you're ready, either.
That deer-caught-in-the
headlights
, waiting for me to pounce look is getting to me. Go get your
ring cleaned. Ice cream cone when you finish, maybe?"

This was beyond disconcerting, this ability
he had to know exactly what I was thinking. And the hell of it was, it could be
explained
either
by his line of work,
or by the fantasy that he was a telepathic warlock.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"Vanilla," I finally said, conceding defeat.

"I knew that."

He didn't try to hug me or kiss me goodbye.
He cheerfully deposited my bags in my trunk and shut my car door. "Drive
careful," he said. "And remember—"

"I can run but I can't hide," I
finished. "Rain's moving back in, you drive careful too."

"Yes, ma'am."

I drove off, fully resolved not to ever,
ever
see the man again. Or talk to him.
And because I was feeling considerably more like the cowardly lion than a bitch
from hell, I'd email him that tomorrow. That resolve lasted for a whole twenty
minutes before I picked up my cell phone.

"The weather report just said there's
some really heavy rain moving up from I-75."

"Yeah, I got a radio too, baby
girl."

"So be careful."

"I will," he assured me.

Chapter Ten

I wasn't such a fool I'd even thought I
could fix supper for Scott after spending the afternoon with another man and
I'd made it clear I needed the evening alone to finish up Christmas details,
wrappings, etc. I was not a happy camper when I heard the key in the door. I
wasn't even ready to talk to Stacy after this afternoon, and I sure as hell
didn't want to talk to Scott.

"Did I just walk into Santa's
workshop?" he asked, glancing at the boxes and rolls of wrapping paper and
sheets of tissue. When agitated, I habitually swirled like a tornado between
multiple mindless tasks that required no concentration, and was wrapping presents
and running back and forth to the kitchen where Christmas sugar cookies were
baking.

"I told you I was going to be
busy," I said. "Hand me that roll of tape over there, this one's
out."

He complied. "Did you get a chance to
get your ring checked while you were out? You really shouldn't let deadlines
get so close, you know."

Considering my profession, that sent sparks
of crimson rage flying out of my head. I felt them.

"
Excuse
me
? I coordinate deadlines for
three
freakin' attorneys! Do you have any
idea
what that involves? And anyway, my ring costs 800 bucks. Or would have if it
hadn't been on sale for 500, so it's not like we're talking about the Kohinoor
diamond here, you shouldn't worry about details so much."

That hit a nerve. "You picked it out,
you don't like big jewelry on your hands, remember? And you don't know what
juggling numbers for a bunch of different
companies
means either, do you?"

"Or in other words,
I'm
just a secretary and you're a
CPA?"

"Well, that's what we are, aren't
we?" He frowned as he surveyed my mass of confused paper and boxes.
"Did you maybe go over your budget a little bit here?"

"And is it any damn business of yours
if I did?" I snapped.

"Honey, you don't stop to think of
after effects sometimes, I'm just pointing out—"

"Don't.
Point.
Out."

His face registered the pained patience
utilized in dealing with a toddler I absolutely
detested
. You want to pull out our college transcripts and compare
'em? Take a bet which one of us had the 2.1 average and which one had the 3.9.
Which was only because I hated the PE courses, by the way.
If you want an athlete, you got the wrong gal.

"You have been ill as a hornet's nest
for the last month, you know that?"

Yeah, actually I did, but in fact Scott
thought I was ill as a hornet's nest anytime I didn't immediately stop what I
was doing and come running whenever he called my name. He had
no idea
how ill I actually was.

"You are under no obligation to stay
and suffer the effects," I said, glaring over the box I was attacking.
"I believe I told you I was going to be busy and needed an evening
to—"

That was when it hit. The muscles in the
back of my neck tightened into a vice grip, my arms went numb. I was dizzy to
the point of ceasing to breathe, my heart pounding. I gasped and grabbed the
back of my neck, panting. I'd hyperventilated a few times in the days AFH which
had scared the living shit out of me as I'd thought I was having a heart attack
in my twenties, and that's exactly what this felt like. As unsettled as I was,
though, I didn't think I was anywhere near stressed enough to hyperventilate.
And I didn't think
my
brain was the
source of the echo ricocheting around my skull either. "
Not now, damn it!!!!"

"Ariel?
What the hell? Honey, you've been doing too much, you're white as a
sheet—"

Good thing I was sitting down. Otherwise,
I'd have certainly fallen. It was getting better, though the after effects were
making my muscles feel like jelly. I had to get rid of Scott.
As soon as possible.
Time to play the
delicate Southern flower.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking up
with my best waif-like expression plastered on my face. "I ran around the
mall all afternoon and started on all this as soon as I got home, and I just
realized I haven't eaten and—"

"Good Lord! No wonder you're ill!
Well, I tell you what, I'm going to heat some soup in the microwave for you and
then you're going to turn that damn oven off and go to bed, how's that
sound?"