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“No, thank God. But you know what a cool head he has. Though, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look as grim as he did when he heard what happened.”
Vaughn wasn’t surprised that some of his fellow officers had taken the attack hard. It was one thing for vampires to be killed by dark coven witches and warlocks as part of executions or even sacrifices. But an assassination attempt by a police force was a different animal altogether.
“I won’t pretend I’m not in trouble. Loghry is behind this attack.”
“Seriously? The wizard who owns all those sex clubs in Elegance? Oh-h-h-h, wait a minute. It’s retribution for the girls you and that witch rescued, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He abducted the triplets again, then tortured and killed them. So, yeah, this was personal.”
Lily got very quiet, then finally asked in a voice full of despair. “Are we going to see you again?”
She’d asked the question of the night. “Hell if I know. But I’m not going down without a fight, which is why I need to talk to Brannick. I need his help, and I need you to keep this on the down low. Can you do that or will this get you in trouble with Easton?”
Silence followed for a few difficult seconds. When Lily spoke, he heard granite in her voice. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Easton is a pig. Just tell me what you need me to do. I’ll come to you, if that will help. I’ll walk out of this building right now and to hell with the calls that come in. There are only a handful of you men on the right side of things and Vaughn, I tell you this with all sincerity, I’d lay down my life for you. So, I mean it when I say ask anything of me.”
His throat grew tight, and he had to take a minute before he could answer her. He swallowed hard a couple of times. “Tell you what. Go ahead and contact Brannick directly. Tell him I need weapons, a couple of AR-15s and ammo for my Glock. Have him take a duffel to the safe house in central Crescent. He’ll know the one I mean. I’m not sure when I can get there to retrieve it, but I’ll call you back in a few to check on timing.”
“You got it. Shit, Easton just walked in.”
He heard the clicking sound of the disconnect and didn’t attempt to call back. Lily knew what she had to do, both to contact Brannick and to keep herself safe as well as to deal with Easton.
The chief of Crescent Border Patrol was in deep with the cartels that supported Loghry. Any suspect move on Lily’s part could get her killed.
But how the hell were he and Emma supposed to bust into Loghry’s mansion when security was known to be the best in Five Bridges?
~ ~ ~
Emma loved her spellroom. It overlooked her garden at the northwest side of her property, and whenever she was in the space, her owl would fly to the very old Indian laurel that shaded her French doors. She often threw them wide when she was mixing a brew in her cauldron, which she did now. She called to Stormy and he fluffed his wings in response.
When she’d first become an alter witch, she’d felt compelled to create what for every witch or warlock was a very private, personal space. She’d visited a number of spellrooms and from her response to each, she designed the best layout for her own spellcasting and brewmaking equipment.
She hadn’t been so opposed to exploring her craft in the early days. It was only a few weeks later that she’d made the decision to permanently limit her spellcasting powers. She’d learned to her horror that many powerful witches belonged to dark covens that routinely slaughtered other species, especially vampires.
On the west wall of her room was a hutch she’d had fitted out with several shelves. Glass canisters, each bearing black labels and gold calligraphy, contained dozens of dried herbs, seeds and pods, as well as mushrooms, leaves, roots, and flowers. Her housekeeper kept the room immaculate, but from the time Emma had filled each container, she hadn’t used but a handful of the contents in seven years. A spell kept them all from deteriorating.
She lit the gas flame beneath her cauldron and added a cup of purified water and a bay leaf. She had one goal, to see as much of the future as she could so that she and Vaughn could plan accordingly. Bay always increased a sense that the future was only a thought away.
Once the water was releasing steam, she moved to stand in front of her canisters. She repeated the words of a spell meant to invoke prescience. As she touched each canister, she pulled the ones forward that spoke to her.
She lined up the canisters and from each withdrew the amount that called to her. One by one, she ground them up in her marble mortar using a matching pestle, then added them to her cast iron, brew pot.
As soon as the recipe was complete, Toby hurried into her spellroom and rubbed around her ankles. The presence of her cat told her she was on the right path.
With the water boiling and the fragrant steam rising, she felt the room grow even more focused, more centered.
She bent over the cauldron and closed her eyes. Using both hands, she wafted the steam toward her and let the essence of the brew flow through her nostrils and into her lungs. A faint dizziness assailed her mind.
She repeated the process several times.
When the entire room was filled with magic, she turned the flame off. She set a glass measuring cup on the small filling platform, and with a pair of oven mitts and taking great care, she tipped the cauldron to release the brew.
When the measuring cup held the liquid, she filled her sink with an inch of tepid water and settled the cup in the basin to cool the boiled liquid.
While she waited for the potion to become drinkable, she gathered bay infused candles and arranged seven of them in an arc at the head of her purple velvet chaise-longue.
She changed out the tepid water, adding back a much cooler temperature. She did this several times very gradually until the brew was drinkable.
Pouring the potion into a red ceramic cup, she held it with both hands then moved to the French doors.
