Page 80 of Wicche Hunt

“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.

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