A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) (10 page)

“Whatever did this created a time warp.”

“And we’re still experiencing it,” Gomez said, pointing toward Dexx. “He hasn’t moved for the last fifteen minutes.”

Paige bit her lip and shook her head. What could do this?

She had no idea and had no clue how to figure it out.

P
aige couldn’t discover any new information from the scene, though she reviewed it several times, looking for anything that would lead her to Heather’s killer. Finally, she exited the door, locking it behind her, putting the crime scene tape back in place, and joined everyone else back at the car. It was barely 3:30.

King shook her head. “This one’s got me.”

“It’s got me, too,” Paige muttered.

“Great, all powerful witch like yourself?”

“Hey. I can suffocate you where you stand—” Which might not have been the best thing to tell anyone else. “—but even I have my limitations.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” King grumbled.

As the team climbed into their black SUV with all the evidence and gear, Paige’s phone rang. She checked the number, but it came back unavailable with the a Texas area code. Frowning, she swiped the green answer button. “Whiskey.”

“Is this Paige Whiskey?” a soft-spoken female said. She didn’t have that saccharine sound to her voice that would have tipped Paige off as a telemarketer or a debt-collector.

“This is she.”

“I’m afraid I have very bad news to tell you.”

“What?” Paige’s heart raced. If she had any more bad news that day, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

“Heather Blackwell is dead.”

“Oh.” Paige released a sigh of relief. “Yes. I know. Who are you and why are you calling me?”

Dexx opened Jackie’s driver’s side door and propped his foot on the floorboard, gesturing to her with his chin.

Paige shook her head with a shrug.

“I’m Susan Russell with Social Services. I’m calling because Heather named you as next of kin.”

She’d what? Paige was the horrible ‘best’ friend who’d had to look up Heather’s address in her case file after she’d been murdered. “I don’t understand.”

“She had a baby recently. A boy.”

“Yes. I know. My sister was in the hospital with her at the same time.”

“Oh. Congratulations.” Her tone turned up, but not quite enough to make the statement a question.

“Thank you. Are you trying to tell me that her…” Paige ran through Heather’s family in her head. Her mother had died a few years ago. Her father had never even been put on her birth certificate. She’d had no brothers or sisters. Her grandparents weren’t in the picture. Heather
had
no family. “What about the boy’s father?”

“He wasn’t named.”

Paige closed her eyes. “What do we do?”

“I have an address here. Walnut St?”

“Yes. That’s where we live.”

“Excellent. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“I’m in Dallas. I can be there in forty.”

“I will see you there.”

Paige frowned down at her phone, trying to get the screen to come up so she could hang up the phone. It remained black until the other woman hung up the phone.

“What was that?” Dexx asked.

“Um.” Paige turned to Gomez who was standing closest to her, waiting to get in the SUV. “Go ahead and take the evidence to Ethel. Then, do some research on what could create a time warp like that.”

A frown flickered between Gomez’s brows. “Where are you going?”

“I have to go home.” Paige blinked, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Heather—the victim—had a baby and named me next of kin.”

“You can’t work the case.” King walked over, her hand out.

“No. It appears not.” Her gut was so knotted, she thought was going to throw up. “Not that I should have been anyway. However, you will need someone with a better understanding of the magickal world. You’re still going to need me and Dexx. So, I’ll discuss it with the chief and we’ll come up with a game plan.” It might be time to see if Tony had been serious about wanting Paige’s old job.

“We don’t work cases we’re emotionally tied to.”

“And in this field, this side, sometimes we don’t have that kind of luxury.” Paige opened Jackie’s door. “I’ll see you all in the morning. I’ll expect information and I’ll see what I can bring that might be helpful.”

Dexx sank in the seat behind the driver’s wheel. “Home?”

“Alma’s? Yes.” It felt weird calling it home, though, why she really didn’t know. Her family was there. She’d been officially welcomed into the house. The wards thrummed with the pulse of her soul. She needed to get over that.

She needed to stop telling herself she had to get over being human. All she
needed
to do was to not kill anyone. She could
feel
whatever the hell she damned well wanted to.

Truth be told, she was still reeling from Heather’s death. Guilt wracked her. If only Paige hadn’t pulled Heather into her world.

She had to stop.

This might not even be about Paige. Yes. Her world was crashing down around her. But there was a big, big world out there filled with all kinds of other troubles.

What if this really was about Heather? She’d been tortured in a time warp. Something powerful had kept her trapped inside her living room, trying to pry some kind of information from her. Why would anyone in Paige’s world think Heather would have anything of worth on Paige?

No one in her world would think that. Not Sven. Not Oriel. Not…anyone else.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Heather had been killed over something else. Something that had nothing to do with Paige.

They’d made it to Alma’s house before Paige was really ready.

A baby?

This couldn’t be real. Right? Things like this didn’t happen like this, this fast. Not in the real world.

But something kinda similar
had
happened. Rachel had swooped in just this fast and taken Leah.

But that, really, hadn’t been real world. Rachel had had help from angels.

What if this situation was being helped similarly?

She sat up straight. Now,
that
made sense.

But if this was the case, Paige and Dexx would
have
to remain in Texas. How was she supposed to raise a child—if this was even really happening—on her own? She’d need the support of Leslie and Alma.

Alma. Who’d betrayed her the last time?

Blessed Mother! What a moron! Single mothers did this on their own all the time anyway. Every day. It wasn’t a big deal. Well, it was a big deal. A pain in the butt. However, it was a surmountable obstacle. She could make it work wherever she wanted.

And she wouldn’t be alone. Not at first, anyway. Dexx. Granted, his form of “romance” was more like “bromance,” which was why they worked. But, if they could find a way to stave off the war, they could make it work.

Granted, though, it would be
easier
with Leslie around.

Except, she’d thought that before. With Leah. And then she’d lost her daughter.

Shit. Rachel. What if Rachel found out about the baby and swooped in to take this one, too? There’d been no legal validations for Rachel winning custody of Leah in the first place. What if she did it here, too?

She was panicking.

Paige didn’t know how long they’d sat in front of Alma’s house, the sun slipping beyond the horizon. The porchlight was on, as well as the light in the living room. Probably the dining room and kitchen, but she couldn’t quite see that from where they sat. A bedroom light was on upstairs. Could have been one of the kids. Paige didn’t know which rooms belonged to whom.

That didn’t matter.

Two strange cars were parked, one on the street in front of Jackie, the other in the driveway. Ethel and the social worker were already there. She needed to put on her Big Girl panties and deal.

Dexx offered his hand.

She didn’t even look at him. She couldn’t tear her gaze off of the house as fear poured through her. She clasped his hand.

He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Ready to go get ‘em?”

Not really. “Yeah, tiger.”

“Cat.”

“Tiger.”

He growled.

Paige smiled, her mind and heart pausing for a beat to give her a breather. “You do help. You know that?”

“I don’t. You don’t tell me much, but I don’t care.”

Paige’s fingers trembled. She was so terrified. Jesus. Why was it she could face demons and shifters, but this had her pissing her pants? Because… “I failed the last time.”

“That was less you and more that evil w—bitch.”

“You almost said witch.”

“I did, but I pulled it back in time.”

They shared a tight smile.

“She had backing, Pea. Support. Hard to fight angels in a court of law when you don’t even know they’re there.”

“I can’t take another person into my life, endanger their lives, and then set them up to be taken away again.”

“Then be smarter this time. Get help. You’ve got demons on your side. Shapeshifters, witches. Use that.”

Paige took in a deep breath. “And the danger? The war?”

Dexx puffed out his cheeks. “I don’t have an answer for that one yet.”

That was kinda the problem.

The porch light went off, came back on for a long moment, then blinked off three times consecutively. Alma’s code for “get your ass inside now.”

“You’ve got this.”

Paige squeezed his fingers. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Always.” He released his grip on her hand and got out of the car.

She hoped so. Dear Goddess, she hoped so.

Paige walked up to the front door, a weight on her shoulders like she were scaling the mountain of Mordor with the Ring whispering to her, telling her to turn away, to run away, to flee, to do anything else but to open that door and step inside.

The door opened on its own.

She stepped inside to see Mandy bouncing on her toes, her brown eyes wide, flickers of orange flame dancing in her irises.

“No fires, Mand,” Paige said, her words coming out without her full approval. She was operating on auto pilot, terror pushing her back in her own mind. Where was Cawli?

He didn’t answer and his presence wasn’t thick inside her mind. She didn’t know where he went when he wasn’t thinking and existing inside of her, but he didn’t seem to be there at that moment.

No. This was her.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Leslie called, her tone bright and cheery. Baby-Mom voice. That’s what Paige called it.

She pushed her shoulders back and walked with purpose down the narrow hall, forgoing the living room. The stair shot upwards on her right. Pictures of the family littered the walls on either side of her. The glowing light of the kitchen beckoned to her.

Alma opened the oven door, glancing over her meaty blue-clad shoulder, potholders in hand. “Ethel brought apples.”

“That’s what she said.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Paige’s heart raced.

Cinnamon and apple spice battered through her senses, assaulting her nose with warmth.

Ethel sat at the table, a baby in her arms. She cooed, her strawberry and magenta pigtails playfully tickling the baby’s face.

Little arms flailed from the bundle in her arms.

Leslie set a bottle down and tucked Kamden to her shoulder, patting his back. “Ah, there you are. We were wondering if you’d make it.”

Paige swallowed. Was it real? Was her friend really dead? Was the baby really hers? Could she make this happen? Could she keep him safe?

A woman rose to her feet and turned, a smile gracing her lips.

Cawli raced to the foreground, a feral roar escaping Paige’s throat.

The woman halted, her hand half-way extended.

Paige slipped into shifter vision.

Two large shadowy wings rose above the woman’s head.

Dexx yelped and scrambled a step away.

Paige blinked and assessed the woman with her normal vision. To all appearances, she looked like a professional human. Pencil skirt. Hips too full. Jacket too tight as if she’d gained twenty pounds since she’d bought it. Hair well coifed. Make-up carefully done. Expression pleasant.

“Angel.” Paige decided to keep it simple.

The woman blinked in surprise and retracted her hand. “Yes.” She patted her hair. “What gave me away?”

Alma slammed the oven door shut. “What is this?”

“Angels don’t come to me,” Paige said low. “What business do you have here?”

“Things are…” The angel glanced around her, blinking furiously. “…different. This baby must remain protected.”

“And you can’t do that?”

“There are many in our ranks who would have him killed.”

“Why?”

“Because of what he is.”

“And that is?”

Ethel raised her head, her sapphire eyes rounded, her shoulders hunched.

“Perhaps,” the angel said, “we could speak privately.”

“What you have to say can be said here.”

“Fine.” The angel tipped her head to the side and clasped her hands in front of her. “He is the next prophet.”

Surely, Paige hadn’t heard that right. “Prophet?”

Alma snorted.

“Yes,” the angel said.

“We’re witches. I’m the demon summoner.”

“Exactly. Your home is the last place anyone would look for him.”