Page 51 of Sins of the Fathers
Dawson lengthened his stride to get out of the rain, and Grady hurried behind him. That put Dawson a couple of yards ahead, crossing the street when the traffic light changed as a white SUV pulled up, blocking Grady’s path and his view.
The SUV’s back door flew open, and Grady saw a woman dressed in gray inside. She spoke strange words, and Grady found himself unable to move. Rough hands pulled him inside the vehicle, and he tumbled to the floor as the SUV roared away.
Grady heard Dawson shout and then the sound of gunshots.Daw—be safe.
“Got him,” a man’s voice said from the front seat. “He won’t be chasing us.”
Daw?Grady’s heart sank, and he struggled harder against invisible bonds, alert and aware but helpless. The SUV rumbled down streets, taking corners at high speed, throwing Grady around the floor. He rammed the newly stitched wound on his arm and swallowed back a cry of pain.
“Don’t fight,” the woman told him. “You can’t break the spell. No one’s coming for you. There’s a distraction spell on this vehicle that makes it nearly impossible to trace. By the time they know you’re gone, you’ll be somewhere they can’t reach.”
Ophelia Locklear. The witch kidnapped me, I can’t move, and Daw’s been shot, maybe killed. Fuck. This is bad, very bad.
Grady tried to remember the turns the driver took, but there were too many switchbacks and too long a ride. He recalled what his father had taught him about getting out of ropes and zip ties.Relax. Exhale. See if that gives me a little slack.
That might have been good advice for normal bindings, but the magic stayed wrapped tightly around him. He tried to calm his mind so he could think clearly.If I can’t use my body, then I have to use my mind. It’s the only weapon I can control right now.
Grady breathed deep until he mastered the panic. First, he focused on the sounds and scents inside the SUV. Ophelia smelled of herbs and incense, and her bracelets jangled when she moved. From the driver, Grady caught the smell of cigarettes and the smack of chewing gum. He couldn’t get a good look at the shooter in the passenger seat, but he did pick up the reek of cheap cologne.
The SUV wasn’t remarkable, standard issue without visible upgrades. From the hum of the road, Grady knew they were still on well-paved routes, so they hadn’t turned onto the smaller, private roads that were often dirt or gravel.
Then he heard the song. Faint at first, the sound grew clearer, and Grady strained to listen. He had spent years of his life in these mountains and had grown to recognize the “signature” music he associated with specific places. Some were faint and hardly memorable. Others took his breath away with their beauty no matter how often he heard them. A few haunted his nightmares, bad places he knew to avoid.
He recognized the song that grew stronger as the SUV drove on.It’s the bad mountain from when Daw and I stopped the fae. Why the fuck are we going closer? Daw will never think to look for me there.
Daw might not be able to look for me. Those gunshots—
Grady had to stop and take more deep breaths to calm himself.I’ve got to keep it together. That’s the only way I’m going to make it home.
Since breaking loose didn’t appear to be an option at the moment, Grady tried to get a feel for the power that bound him, anything to keep from panicking over Dawson and the shots he’d heard.
Ophelia’s magic tingled like a light electric charge running up and down his body. When he struggled, the tingle grew stronger around the pressure points, becoming more and more uncomfortable.
The amulet and mojo bag don’t seem to be helping. Or would it be worse without them? If she doesn’t notice, are they something I can use to get free?
I’ve got to get back to Dawson.
Grady refused to believe Ophelia’s taunts or the shooter’s comment.They want to fuck with my mind. Daw’s okay. He has to be okay.
After a long drive, the SUV stopped. By now, the discordant, ominous song of the mountain’s spirit nearly overwhelmed him, stoking despair. Although the ethereal music had not grown louder, it seemed more intense. Grady strained to pick up details, like the toll of funeral bells instead of the glissando of chimes.
But why is it like that? What makes the difference? And if this is a bad place with a malicious natural spirit, why did Ophelia choose to be here?
“Get him inside,” the witch ordered. Grady went limp, protesting in the only way he could.
“Fuck, he weighs a ton,” the driver said as he and the man in the passenger seat—the one who shot Daw—lifted Grady by his feet and shoulders and carried him along a forest path.
A sturdy cabin sat at the end of the trail, hidden by trees. Grady had no landmarks, but he felt sure this was the fake Bushwhackers’ hideout, the one that had eluded their previous search.If we didn’t find it before, how will anyone find me now?
No one is coming to save me. I’m going to have to save myself.
The goons dropped him unceremoniously on the floor in the cabin’s small living room. Grady landed face up and got his first good look at the witch who had torn his family apart for three generations.
“Grady King. I’ve had my eye on you.” Ophelia Locklear looked to be in her early fifties, but Grady knew she had to be much older. For as much damage as she had caused, Grady expected to confront the living embodiment of a Disney villain.
Instead, he found himself facing a woman who wouldn’t have been out of place or remarkable at a bake sale or the public library. Ophelia’s gray-flecked dark hair flattered very average features in a short, modern cut. She wasn’t willowy like movie sorceresses. He guessed her to be about five and a half feet tall, a bit plump, dressed in boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved gray T-shirt.
Destructive magic wrapped in a commonplace disguise, all the more dangerous because it was so easy to overlook.
