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“That’s so strange.”
The waitress dropped off their food, and Eric dug into his omelet. He pointed his fork at her bowl of mush. “Is that going to be enough?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve got brown sugar, bananas, berries. I’m in heaven.”
“This,” he said, waving his fork with a string of orange cheese hanging off it, “is heaven. Anyway, enough of my father’s case. We have our own killer to find.”
“We’ll fire up your laptop and do a little research on covens.”
“Maybe we can get more info from Libby. We should drop in on her again.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and Nigel will be around.”
“So many witches, so little time.” He stuffed another bite of omelet into his mouth.
They finished their breakfast, and took the elevator back up to their rooms. In the light of day, Eric felt more in control of his impulses. He wouldn’t rule out another go around with Christina, but he wanted to make sure she wasn’t harboring any more secrets.
He did believe that she never intended to write that book, but she’d kept her relationship with Ray Lopez a secret from him, and there was no doubt in his mind that if Lopez had gotten his hands on those notes, a book on his father dredging up the whole sordid affair would’ve been forthcoming.
Christina still had something to prove to him, and maybe he had something to prove to her, too.
Maybe that’s why she was still skittish. She was just waiting for his moody psycho side to make another appearance.
The elevator dinged, bringing him out of his daydreams.
“My room?” She tapped on the door with her card.
“I’ll meet you through the secret door, since I have the laptop.”
“I have a laptop, too.”
“Mine’s faster.”
She sighed. “If you insist. I’ll meet you at the secret door, but you have to do the secret knock.”
She twirled around and shut her door in his face.
In his room, he swept his computer from the table and knocked on the door that separated their rooms. “Ready?”
She flung the door open. “You got the secret knock right on the first try.”
“I’m psychic.” He wiggled his fingers in the air.
“Water?”
“Line ’em up.” He set the laptop on the table by the window and powered it on. “Okay, what should we search for first? Covens?”
“Give it a try.”
His hands hovered over the keyboard. “Do the covens actually have names?”
“I have no idea. Libby wasn’t very forthcoming with the particulars.”
“And your sister? Did she ever mention a name?”
“No. I never even knew she was a member of a coven. Her or my father. I didn’t know there were different covens.”
“Maybe they’re like sororities. You have to rush a coven and they make sure you’re a good fit.” He tapped a few keys.
She stuck out her tongue. “Don’t be dumb. Remember what Libby said? You don’t join a coven, you just are.”
He ignored the tongue and stared so hard at the screen, his vision blurred. “I’m wondering if half of what Libby told us was bull.”
She leaned over his shoulder. “What do you have there?”
“What’s the difference between witches and Wiccans?” He pushed his laptop toward her.
As she leaned in closer to the screen, her hair feathered against his cheek and her perfume emanated from the pulse beating in her throat. If he didn’t already know she applied a dab or two of the musky scent every morning, he’d swear it was her original smell, something organic to Christina.
“I have no idea what the difference is.” She flicked the monitor. “Try this website. It looks like a directory of witches or something.”
“Witchweb dot com? Catchy.” He clicked on the link and a screen popped up filled with symbols and signs and links to products. “Whoa, we could spend all day on this website.”
She jabbed her finger at the display. “We may not have to. There’s our symbol.”
“And it links to something.” He brought up the next page, which contained a brief description of the symbol.
Running his finger beneath the words, he read aloud. “This symbol first appeared in the Caribbean and has been a part of Santeria practices, but today it is most commonly associated with the brujos of Mexico, especially the coven Los Brujos de Invierno.”
“I’ve never heard that name before—winter witches.” She dropped to her knees beside his chair. “But Dad comes from Mexico, so it totally makes sense that he’d belong to that coven. Why would someone want to wipe out members of a coven?”
