No Rest for the Wicca (19 page)

“I’m going to see if the stars will try and help us—give us a bead on who the killer has selected as his next victim,” she said. She shuffled the deck, lay it in front of Cole. “Would you split it into three piles, please? With your left hand, not your right.”

He reached out, divided the deck into three even piles.

“Good. Now place them one on top of each other, not in any particular order.”

Cole did as directed without even so much as a cursory glance my way.
Bastard.

“Okay. Now, we’ll begin.”

Xia started to lay out the cards. I recognized the spread—the most popular of all tarot, the Celtic Cross. When she’d finished, she closed her eyes, let her fingers trace over the cards. Cole and I both sat in silence, watching her. At last she opened her eyes, looked at us.

“In case you’re not familiar, this is the Celtic Cross spread. It’s usually used to provide insight to a complex situation.” She gave a short, high laugh, the kind she did when she was incredibly nervous. “What more complex situation than trying to pinpoint a killer’s victim, right?”

“Gee, you could say that,” I remarked. “Maybe if you can hone in on his name we can ask him over for tea.”

Xia’s eyes fluttered over to me and she gave me what I recognized as one of her dark looks. Cole reached across the table, patted Xia’s hand.

“Don’t mind your cousin, Xia. Apparently she gets quite irritable when she’s working a case. Possibly it’s another reason she left Homicide.”

“No, but it might be a reason I quit this stupid assignment,” I hissed. “Of all the egomaniacal—“

“As I said, Xia, your cousin tends to overdramatize. Pray, continue.” He gave me a look, and leaned back in the chair.

Xia cleared her throat, didn’t even glance over at me. I slumped back in the chair.

“Yeah, do go on.” I muttered.

“Very well.” Xia closed her eyes again for a few moments, then opened them. “The card not shown, but at the cross’s center, represents the atmosphere surrounding the central issue.” She reached underneath the middle card, plucked out another card and held it up. “The Queen of Cups. She’s reversed. I’m getting the impression of water, deep, dark water, like a river or a lake, maybe. Our querant, or victim, is driven by the desperate fear of being alone. She’s driven to fantasies—daydreams. She’ll never see it coming.

The card in the center is an obstacle that stands in the way. Six of Pentacles. This represents someone driven by greed, by envy. An overconfidence leading to deception.”

“Overconfidence,” I muttered. “
Wonder who that could apply to
.”

Cole raised a finger to his lips. “Quiet. Go on, Xia.”

She tapped the card at the top of the cross. “This represents the goal, or the best that can be achieved without a dramatic change in priorities. This card, the Seven of Swords, represents being trapped in a hopeless situation—being unable to withdraw.” She put a hand to her throat. “Oh, my. Oh, my.”

Cole sprang from his seat. “What’s the matter, Xia?”

I reached her first, slipped my arm around her shoulders. I could feel her quiver beneath my touch. “Easy, now,” I murmured. “You don’t have to finish.” I shot Cole a withering look. “See now, it’s just what I thought would happen. You’ve upset her.”

He stared at me. “I? How could I?”

“By asking her to do this—she’s tapped into something unnerving, haven’t you, Xia?”

Cole knelt next to her. “Xia, if that’s true—tell us. Tell us what you’ve seen to upset you so.”

Xia’s hand balled into a fist, which she shoved in her mouth. She shook her head.

I rose, eyes blazing. “I think you’ve done enough damage for one afternoon, Cole. If this is your idea of brainstorming to catch our killer, well, I’ve gotta tell you, it’s come up all wet. I guess Commander Stone wouldn’t think so much of you now, would she?”

He stared me down. “Did you have a better idea, short of trying to put a tail on every witch in this damned city? Do you even know how many witches there are in Central City?”

“Sure—we’re the second highest in population, right behind regular humans
, ten thousand more than vamps
. The estimate also includes warlocks, though, and I don’t think the killer’s after them, but I could be wrong.”

Xia stopped shaking, tugged at my arm. “I’m okay. It was just—just a twinge.”

I frowned. “A twinge? I felt you shake, Xia. It was more than just a passing fancy.”

She took a breath. “I got—I got a mental image of Darla. Darla, all pale, blood running from the side of her mouth and—“ she passed a hand over her eyes. “This is what got me spooked. I saw a hole where her left eye should be.”

Cole and I exchanged a look. He reached across the table, lightly touched Xia’s hand. “Do you feel well enough to go on?”

She nodded. “Yes. Perhaps if I could have some water…”

Cole left the room, returned with a pitcher of water and a glass. He poured some for Xia. She downed it in one gulp, leaned back in the chair, motioned for us to sit as well.

“I’m okay now,” she said. “It was just—seeing her so—is it true? Was her eye cut out?”

“We’re not at lib—“ I began, but Cole interrupted.

“Yes,” he said.

“Oh.” She took another deep breath, looked at the cards again. “Where was I?”

“Xia,” I dragged my hand through my hair. “Are you sure you’re all
right? You don’t have to go on. We can stop now.”

“I said I’m okay,” she bit out, her eyes flashing. “I want to do this—I have to, for Darla. For any other poor witch.”

“No, you don’t—“ I began, but she held out her hand.

“Oh, yes I do. And don’t try to stop me, because I can be just as stubborn as you, Morgan Hawkes. You don’t have a monopoly on it.”

I looked at Cole out of the corner of my eye. His lips quivered, and I just knew he didn’t want to let go with a big wide smile.  I grimaced, dropped back in the chair. “Okay, ” I barked. “You want to do it, do it. Get on with it.”

Xia expelled a pent-up breath. “The bottom card—Five of Swords. Separation brought about by an unfeeling and coldly calculated act.”

“It seems from this reading our perp’s gonna be successful,” I muttered.

Xia threw me a pained look. “Morgan, please.”  She tapped the card to the left of the cross. “This card—the Eight of Swords—represents a passing influence. In this case it signifies confusion, inability to focus on the crux of the problem, to free oneself from a difficult situation.”

“Who’s confused—the victim or the perp?” I snapped. “Or maybe you mean me.”

Xia’s head shot up. “If the shoe fits,” she said with a curl of her lip.

Cole’s fingers pressed into my arm. “I believe your cousin wishes you to be quiet,” he murmured. He smiled at Xia. “Go on, please.”

She pushed a stray curl out of her eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry.” With a baleful glance my way, she continued, “The card at the right is an approaching influence. Strength. It’s reversed, which signifies the inability to defend oneself. Confusion.  The card at the base represents the querant role or attitude. The Four of Wands suggests the successful resolution of a matter. The card second from the bottom is the Five of Wands, reversed, which signifies a pointless struggle, a stressful situation which brings out the worst in its participants.

Second from the top, an unexpected element comes into play: The two of cups. Joining of male and female. Last, we have the ultimate outcome, should we continue on the present course: The Magician. A person who uses the knowledge and skill they possess for destructive purposes.”

She lay her hands on top of the cards, closed her eyes. “This person is heading toward an ultimate purpose. He can only be stopped if the male and female join together in perfect harmony. The Magician has a goal of ultimate destruction in mind, but ultimately, it is the male and female who will bring about his doom.”

We were all silent for a few moments. Cole asked, “What about on a more immediate level, Xia. What about tomorrow? Will he be successful in what he’s planning for tomorrow?”

Xia closed her eyes for a few moments, let her fingertips caress each card. At length she shook her head. “I can’t tell. I’m sorry. All the cards are telling me is unless the male and female work in harmony, the Magician will reign supreme.”

“It’s alright,” Cole patted her shoulder. “You did good. Why don’t you just take a moment to collect yourself now? I’d like a word with Morgan in my office.”

I squeezed Xia’s hand as I passed. “Have another glass of water. As soon as I’m done with Cole, we’ll go home.”

Xia pressed my hand back, hard. “I saw a book, too,” she whispered. “A book is important.”

I frowned. “A book? What sort? Telephone? Diary?”

She shook her head. “I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

“Morgan,” Cole barked. “Leave Xia rest and come…now.”

I released Xia’s hand and with a small smile, followed Cole back down the hallway into his office. Once inside, I shut the door and turned to face him.

“Why in blazes did you put her through that,” I exploded. “She didn’t tell us much more than we already know. You got her all worked up for nothing.”

His eyebrow went straight up. “Beg pardon, but I did not get her worked up at all. She volunteered. And I rather think she gave us some useful information.”

I stared at him. “What in all that did you find useful?”

His fingers scraped along the edge of his jaw. “For one thing, the part about the male and female joining together in harmony. She so obviously means us.”

I gave him an eyeroll. 
“Yeah? Well, us working in harmony doesn’t seem too bloody likely, does it?”

“Not when one of us is so stubborn,” Cole said calmly. “However, I’m willing to compromise.”

“You? Inferring, no doubt, I am the stubborn one?”

“If the shoe fits…but seriously, Morgan, our loggerheads could make the difference for someone between life and death.”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “What else did you find useful?”

“Our next victim could well be who Xia referred to as the Queen of Cups. Remember the description? A person isolated and alone, driven to fantasies, daydreams…”

“Wait!” I snapped my fingers. “Xia was right on the money, Cole. Only she didn’t see the next victim. She saw the last one.”

He nodded. “Yes, Darla. Although I confess, I was under the impression Darla was a very outgoing--”

“She was,” I interrupted. “I didn’t mean her, I meant the one out of order. The missing number four. A loner, someone who doesn’t fit in—who does that remind you of?”

His black eyes gleamed. “Florrie.”

“Damn right.” I started for the door. “I’m going to take Xia home. In the meantime, can you get a diving team together?”

He started. “I suppose so. But there are over a dozen lakes in and around Central City, Morgan. How do we know which one?”

“Xia told us that too, if you’d only stop and think a minute.”

He did, then nodded. “
Dark
River
Lake
. It’s about two miles from the University. I’ll start assembling the team.”

“I’ll take Xia home, and meet you there.” I whirled on my heel, started for the door. Midway I paused. “She said something else that rings of truth.”

“Which is?”

“Florrie never saw it coming,” I flung over my shoulder, and slammed the door.

The ride home was an awkward one, with neither Xia nor I speaking to each other. Once I pulled into our driveway and switched off the ignition, she jumped out and ran up the front steps and into the house without one word to me. I sat for a moment, bent forward so my forearms rested on the wheel.

Ago angajan asogwe. Lughnasadh
.

I reared back, pounded my fist against the wheel. “I know,” I whispered into the twilight. “Somewhere out there is an asogwe, a high rank Voodoo priest, who’s doing black magic in exchange for some sort of service from an
lwa
. D
ammit, if you really want to help, can’t you tell me who it is, instead of playing these games?”

Silence.

“Can you at least tell me if Marinette is the lwa?  If there’s a connection between that secret society that honors her and these deaths.?”

More silence.
No voices swimming around in my head. I sighed.

“Guess I can’t expect it to be so easy, can I? Lughnasadh,” I muttered. “August 1
st
, is the key, the date it’s to happen. But what? And how can I find out who’s behind it all?
Is it Graft, or Morrow, or is there someone else?
” I pressed my fingers against my eyelids, rubbed. Dammit, the answer was right in front of me, I knew it. Why couldn’t I get it?

I slid out of the car and pounded up the front steps, into the house. I tossed my purse and keys on the hall table and stood for a minute, just listening to the abject silence.

Ago angajan asogwe. Lughnasadh
.

I moved forward into the kitchen area. Xia sat at the small table near the window, absently swirling a tea bag in a large ceramic mug. I took a breath, walked over, pulled out the chair next to her, and sat down.

“Feeling better?”

She glanced up, held out the mug. “A little. Want some tea? It’s Orange Blossom Chai.”

I shook my head. “No thanks.”

She continued sipping from the mug. I traced lazy circles on the gingham checked tablecloth with my index finger. “I’m sorry,” I said at last.

She looked at me over the rim of her mug. “You are? For what?”

“For getting you involved. I know what happened down at Special Forces hit you hard, and—“

“You don’t get it, do you, Morgan?” She set the mug down, reached out and covered my hand with her own. “I’m fine,” she said. “And you don’t owe me an apology. It’s I who should be sorry.”

The remark made me sit up straighter. “What? Why?”

“Because I failed. I couldn’t get a bead on what you wanted me to.”

I nodded, didn’t pull my hand away as I usually did. I rubbed at her thumb with my forefinger. “Not at all. Frankly, you were more of a help than you think.”

Her eyes widened. “I was?”

“Yeah.” I let go of her hand and leaned back, stretched my legs out in front of me. “I think you did hone in on something—it just wasn’t the future victim. I think you found our missing number four.”

She frowned. “Number four?”

I licked at my lip self-consciously. “There’s something else you should know. We think the killer mistook Florrie for a pureblood. I think the victim you honed in on was her.”

Xia’s lips went pale. “Oh, God. Florrie Alban? Are you sure?”

“Relatively certain, yes.”

She clenched her hand into a fist, so tight the knuckles bled white, and pressed it against her lips. “She was such a sweet girl—why on earth—“

“A sweet girl, true, but unfortunately one with an interest in something she’d have best left alone. She liked to pass herself off as one with the blood. It might well have proved her undoing.”

Xia’s blue eyes turned flat as stones. “There are plenty of humans and half-bloods who like to act as if they’re pure. It’s not a crime is it? Surely something one couldn’t die for?” She passed a hand across her eyes. “Why is this person killing witches, Morgan?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Oh, I think you have an idea, don’t you? Has it got something to do with voodoo?”

My neck snapped up. “What makes you say so?”

“Cole—Agent St. John told me they selected you because of your heritage, and the chance you might recall something helpful. He told me about those strange dolls.”

I clucked my tongue in annoyance. “Seems you and
Senior
Special Agent St.
John had quite the discussion.”

“He wanted my help, so he thought it best if I knew all the facts.” She paused. “But I don’t, do I? Not even Agent St. John knows. There’s something you’re holding back.”
Pinned under Xia’s accusing stare, the best I could do was muster up a choked, “What makes you say that?”

She wagged her finger under my nose. “Don’t try to kid me, Morgan. You know full well my senses are more in tune than yours, and I’ve felt for a while now you’ve held back something. Don’t you think it’s about time you unburdened yourself?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. I—I’m not even sure if it’s real, or just my overactive imagination.”

“Might help to talk about it.” Xia pushed the mug off to the side and cupped her chin in her palms. “I’m here for you. I’m a good listener, as you well know.”

I recalled all the times she’d sat up with me, listening to me sob and babble incoherently after April’s death, and I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“So. Spill. What details are you keeping to yourself?”

I hesitated, nodded. Perhaps talking about it, saying it out loud, I could break through the fog that seemed to veil my progress. I expelled a deep breath. “Your attack is one of the reasons I decided to work with Cole—Agent St. John. They said witches were the target, and I couldn’t live with myself if you were selected as one of them.”

“You’ve already made your feelings known, and it’s still very sweet,” said Xia. “But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“Yes.” I nibbled at my bottom lip. “It was also the voices.”

Xia’s eyes bulged. “Voices? You heard voices?”

My hand flew to my temple, rubbed. “I still hear them. They’re always there, fluttering in my subconscious. I think—no, I know--they were the voices of the witches who were killed.”

She considered this a moment, then nodded. “It makes sense. You can commune with the spirits of those who cannot find rest, who are trapped between planes. These witches taken before their time would surely qualify. Well, what did they say to you?”

“They said I had to help them.”

She gave me a look. “And something else, as well. I’m right, aren’t I? Don’t hold back. What?”

I laced my hands behind my head. “It was a sort of…warning? Riddle? I’m not sure which. They used voodoo and Wiccan terms, a mix. I thought I’d interpreted what they were trying to say correctly, but now…now I’m not so sure. I feel as if there’s something I’m missing.”

“Well?” Xia demanded as I fell silent. “What did they say?”

I repeated the phrase. “
Ago angajan asogwe. Lughnasadh
.”

She stared at me. “Huh?” After I repeated it again, she said, “Okay, I get the Lughnasadh. The rest you’re gonna have to interpret.”

“Ago is a voodoo ritual exclamation meaning ‘Attention’. Angajan usually refers to a transaction consummated between a person and an
lwa.”

Xia made a face. “A transaction? It’s not like making a deposit at a bank, is it?”

“Hardly. It’s usually some black magic deed in exchange for a service to a certain god. And asogwe is a title, usually given to the highest rank of the Voodoo priesthood.”

“I see.”

I laughed. “No, you don’t.”

She grinned back. “You’re right. I don’t. How did you interpret those words?”

My fingers traced the gingham checks as I spoke. “Well, I took it as they were calling for my attention. Someone is killing these witches as a service to an
lwa
, hoping to get something in exchange. I figured the asogwe referred to the fact the person doing this is pretty high ranking in voodoo circles. Lugh, as we’ve deduced, refers to the date it all comes down.”

“Makes sense—I guess,” Xia frowned. “Are you sure about the first word?”

“There’s only one meaning for the word ago in voodoo.”

“I’m sure, but—are you absolutely certain that was the word? Couldn’t it have been something else, maybe?”

I puckered my brow in thought. “Why—I’m not sure. I don’t know of any close to it, offhand, but—maybe. Maybe they’re trying to tell me something else.” I put my head in my hands. “
It’d be great if they could give me more than just cryptic tidbits.”

“Why can’t they?”

I shrugged.  “Something’s blocking them, preventing them.  The asogwe might have put a curtailing spell on them.  Dammit.”  I balled my hand into a fist.  “There’s something I’m missing. Something important…”
Suddenly I snapped my fingers. “Prana.”

Xia looked up. “What?”

“In my research. Odic Force
is a project Graft
and Morrow were
working on, and Florrie disagreed with.
It’s called prana in voodoo. Human sacrifices increase the effectiveness of the spell.”
  I reached for Xia’s mug, brought it to my lips, then set it down with a grimace.  “Cold.  Anyway, if Graft and Morrow are involved with the society,
these sacrifices for could well be Marinette.  She’s one of the most dreaded members of the Petro nation, powerful, violent.  It would fit, and yet…d
ammit, I’m
still getting the sense I’m
missing something here.”

The phone rang, and Xia, who was nearest it, picked it up.

“Hello. Yes, she is.” She held it out to me and mouthed
Agent St. John
. I snatched the receiver with a trembling hand.

“Cole? What’s up?”

“I think you might want to get down here,” Cole’s voice was steady, but there was an edge to it that made my spine tingle.

“Are you at
Dark
River
Lake
?”

“Yes.”

I felt a chill invade my body, permeate my bones. “And did—did you find Florrie?”

“Like I said, you’ll want to get down here right away,” Cole said. His tone was clipped, impersonal, betraying nothing. I had the feeling he wasn’t alone. “And whatever you do, come alone. Don’t bring Xia.”

***

There wasn’t a crowd. I was grateful for that. Overhead the moon waxed toward its last quarter, the clouds thick and dark against a starless sky. I scanned the dark sheltering trees and made my way up the steep incline leading to the edge of
Dark
River
Lake
. As I reached the crest of the hill, I looked down. I saw boats, a small gathering of yellow-coated personage I determined were Special Forces—and lying at the lake’s edge, a white-sheeted body.

I fairly flew down the incline, tumbled into a waiting Cole. He helped me pick myself up, gave me a quick once over.

“You look like hell,” he said simply.

“Thanks for the news flash.”
I wrapped my jacket more tightly about me. Even though it was almost the end of July, a light breeze had sprung up, blowing in off the water. “I’m fine.”

His gaze flicked over me. “How’s Xia?”

“She felt bad she couldn’t be of more help,” I gritted my teeth, inclined my head toward the white-sheeted body. “Florrie?”

He nodded. “Want a look? It’s not a pretty sight.”

I squared my shoulders. “I can handle it.”

As we moved toward where the body lay, an imposing figure in yellow slicker blocked our path. I held back a grimace as I recognized the granite hard features of Commander Delia Stone.

“Commander,” I nodded.

She gave me a quick once-over. “Hawkes. Surprised to see me, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t think Commanders came to crime scenes.”

“They do when it’s necessary. Here’s your missing body,”
her words gunned out, short, crisp.
“Do try and ensure there are no additional deaths, you two. Time is running out. I want this bastard caught.”

“So do we, Commander,” I said, gritting my teeth. I pushed past her, over to the body. I bent, slowly pulled down the sheet.

Florrie had never been particularly pretty, and her face, bloated and swollen from what must have been at least three days in the murky river, was not a pleasant sight. There were patches on her neck where fish had started nibbling—the mix of flesh and bone would definitely have upset Xia. The middle of her throat yawned wide, a gaping hole. I turned my head slightly, saw Cole just behind me.

“She was at the bottom of the lake, dead center, “he said. “We’ve spent the better part of the evening dragging it. Can’t seem to find one of those dolls.”

“There wouldn’t be,” I said thoughtfully. “Killer must have realized his mistake, but too late to save her.” I took another long, hard look at the face. “I see why you didn’t want me to bring Xia. I hate even for her mother to see her like this.”