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Chapter Eight
Jack
The only solid lead we had on Darla’s whereabouts was the possibility of finding out where the glamours on the goons had originated from. I wasn’t sure what Claire had expected from the interview with Darla’s parents. Given how quiet she had grown in the seat next to me as we made our way back into town, I suspected she’d hoped for something more solid.
“This could get messy, Claire,” I said when the silence in the car became too much to handle. Usually, I could enjoy that silence between us. It was simply enough to be close to her. Right now, however, I could see how she was twisting her hands in her lap. How her brow furrowed.
I waited for her to add something. Instead, she remained silent. My jaw clenched. By the end of the day, I’d be nursing a raging headache.
“We’re heading into some scary territory for you, Claire. I don’t want to risk you being put into a situation where you have to do something that’s going to give you nightmares for years on end.”
That, at least, earned me a side glance. I didn’t know if she knew I knew about her nightmares. Part of me wanted her to ask, to call me on it. Instead, she turned back to look out the dash window.
“They’re now using entire gangs of men to take these girls,” she said, her face stony. Nothing like the young girl I remembered walking downtown and laughing with her friends. This Claire was older, wise beyond her years because she’d had to be. “They’ve grown as an organization. Especially if they’re now using glamours, no matter how cheap they may be. Not only do they want to have a backup in case they happen upon another witch like me, but they also don’t want anyone to identify them. Which means they could be right under our noses as we speak.”
There was a pause. I knew she was holding something back. I was fluent in all things Claire.
“Claire?”
“I’d know his voice, though.”
She didn’t have to say who she meant. I knew. I’d never heard the man’s voice and never seen him, much to my annoyance. But I knew that voice still haunted Claire’s dreams. By the time I’d arrived at the cabin that night, there were two dead warlocks on the floor. Killed by Claire’s magic, their brains literally boiled inside their skulls.
But there had been another. The one who had gotten away.
I never told Claire that we might never find that man. Sometimes, I thought he might have succumbed to the same fate as the other men that night, but it had simply taken longer for him to die. Perhaps he’d suffered a slower, more painful death. I’d searched the woods that night and for days after, but I’d come up with nothing.
“Where are we going?” Claire asked as I zoomed past the offices of the Witch Gazette. “I thought we were going to talk to Rainbow about the glamours.”
“She’s on the agenda,” I said, making a right turn that would lead us into the downtown area. “First, I want to talk to Sebastian Cavanaugh. He needs to know what’s going on. The human cops won’t be able to handle something like this. We need reinforcements. Besides, he may already know something we don’t know yet.”
“What are you not telling me, Jack?”
I hadn’t wanted to get into this. Not today. Perhaps never.
“Sebastian found me last night. Told me his men had found out they were trafficking the force bonding drugs in Mystic Springs. And that there are buyers.”
I could feel the anger rolling off of her.
“You can get angry, Claire, but I didn’t see any reason to call you last night and tell you. I had only just found out myself.”
And just like that, she shut down, looking down at her phone and typing furiously.
* * *
Sebastian Cavanaugh keptcourt above the Crescent Moon Ice Cream Parlor and Soda Shop. Once you made it through the sweet smells of the restaurant and up the stairs, you’d find a hallway typically lined with big, scary warlocks who were ready to do battle at a moment’s notice.
They knew me, however, so they didn’t bat an eye as I walked in. What had happened last night at the bar was forgotten. Hopefully, no one would mention that in front of Claire.
Claire brought up the rear as I faced the door that led to Sebastian’s office. Without a word, the goon stationed in front of it reached behind him and turned the knob. The door slid open, revealing Sebastian sitting behind the desk. He spared a look from a series of old books on his desk. Gods knew what he got up to in his spare time.
He distractedly motioned to the two seats that faced his desk. “I’ve got my men scouring the area,” he said, slamming one of the large tomes on his desk shut with a sigh. A grimoire. “So far, we’ve come up with zilch.”
Sebastian looked from my face to Claire’s and back to mine. He raised an eyebrow. I merely gave the man a stony look.
Not now, Cavanaugh.
“I assume you’ve told her about the drugs being trafficked here in town,” Sebastian said, wisely backing off of whatever thought he’d been entertaining. I was at least glad that I had told Claire about the drugs before we’d arrived.
