Waking the Witch
Page 38
He hauled me back under the railing.
“Chicken,” I said.
He snorted. “If I didn’t move, you would have. You play a good game, Savannah, but you’re not nearly as reckless as you seem.”
“Wanna bet?”
I yanked off my boots and got up on the railing, balancing on it.
“I rest my case,” he said, pointing at the discarded boots.
I stuck out my tongue.
“I take back that ‘seem older’ part.”
“As well you should.” I took a few steps along the railing, then hopped off. “So, are you going to tell me how old you are?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Relatively youthful. You might have to act more immature, though, so I don’t feel bad.”
“I can probably manage that.”
He pulled me into another kiss and I was up against a tree pretty damned fast. He stuck to kissing, though. Like a high school make-out session. Only without the wandering hands, and with a guy who kissed a helluva lot better than anyone I’d dated in high school.
When things inevitably got a little too steamy, he backed off me, saying, “Okay, time out, or I’m going to try something I really shouldn’t on a public path.”
“You’re right,” I said. “We should cool it.”
“Damn.”
I laughed. “Sorry, but it’s only our second date.”
“So there’s a schedule?”
“What if there is?”
“Then I should know it.”
“To keep you from making any premature moves?”
“No, so I can decide if it’s worth it.”
I only laughed. We kissed a while longer, until I put on the brakes, and we sat down on the grass, looking up at the stars.
When I snuck a look at him, I felt my pulse quicken. That surprised me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy on a date. This comfortable. This hopeful. It wasn’t the racing heart I got when Adam was around, but it was something. It was definitely something.
We sat there quietly for another minute, then Michael said, “So you said you worked through school. Which college?” When I didn’t answer, he reddened. “Okay, that was presumptuous of me.”
“Nah. It’s cool. No college. Maybe someday. I wasn’t ready. I’d planned to go through for art, then realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. You know how some kids deal by writing angsty poetry? That’s what art was for me. I still enjoy it, but the older I get, the less I do. Good thing I realized that before I blew a bundle on tuition.”
“Smart move. I wish I’d taken a few years off. At eighteen, I barely knew what I wanted to do with my weekend, let alone my life.”
“You don’t like being a cop?”
He shrugged. “Don’t love it, don’t hate it. I won’t stay in the job forever.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I have no idea. I’m not exactly the most impulsive guy in the world. It takes me a while to make a decision.” He paused. “I do know one thing I want, though.”
“What’s that?”
“A third date.” He put his arms around me and kissed me again.
twenty
We dropped off the tire behind the garage and got back to the motel around eleven. As tempted as I was to invite Michael in, I settled for making out at the door. He made it easier by saying he had a few things to check out before he headed back to his motel. He promised to call me in the morning. I stood outside and watched him go. Was this something? It felt like something.
YET AGAIN, I’D been dropped off for the night, but had no intention of staying in. Days were for interviewing witnesses and following leads; nights were for breaking into places. I wanted to get into Cody’s office and, if I could, exact a little revenge for this afternoon.
One problem with this plan? Cody’s office, according to my map of Columbus, was on the outskirts, near the sawmill. He had another in Vancouver, but I suspected I stood a better chance of finding something damning here. There had to be plenty of buildings in Columbus that would make nicer—and more convenient—offices. So why would you keep a place out there? Only if you had business you didn’t want to conduct in town.
First, then, I needed my bike. The garage was a couple of blocks away. Columbus wasn’t exactly a dangerous place to wander at night, so I headed over.
My bike was inside a side bay, which the resident mechanic kid had either forgotten to lock or never bothered to. I rolled out my bike, got my tire, took my tool kit, and set to work.
In the half hour I was there, two cars passed the Main Street intersection. The lack of activity only made me extra cautious. I’d cast a perimeter spell around the lot so I could concentrate on changing the tire. When I was finishing up, someone breached the spell, setting off a mental alarm.
I looked up sharply. I stood. Even called out a “Hello?” just to let the intruder know I’d noticed him. Silence answered.
I cast a sensing spell. Yep, definitely a presence. A human-size one.
There was only one streetlamp near the garage, and my bike was under it. The full moon vanished behind clouds. When I stepped past the circle of light, I had to squint into the shadows. A flashlight would have helped. But I had a spell-powered one, so why would I weigh down my saddlebags with that? Well, maybe if I was being stalked by a human who shouldn’t see me tossing a ball of light into the air.
I cupped my hand and cast the light ball inside it, to look like a flashlight. Kind of. Then I strode toward the garage, the light leading the way.
Metal tinkled across asphalt, like someone had kicked a screw. It came from the west side of the shop. I extinguished the light and ran that way just in time to see the heels of someone darting around the corner. White soles. Sneakers.
Knockback spell at the ready, I rounded the rear of the garage. Empty. There was, however, a convenient Dumpster. I slid off my boots and crept along the wall until I was beside the bin. I listened and flexed my fingers, ready to cast at the first squeak of a shoe. When all stayed silent, I whispered a sensing spell. It came back positive.
Cardboard boxes were scattered around the base. I found the sturdiest, grabbed the edge of the bin, and swung up onto the box. It started to collapse just as I lifted off it.
“Chicken,” I said.
He snorted. “If I didn’t move, you would have. You play a good game, Savannah, but you’re not nearly as reckless as you seem.”
“Wanna bet?”
I yanked off my boots and got up on the railing, balancing on it.
“I rest my case,” he said, pointing at the discarded boots.
I stuck out my tongue.
“I take back that ‘seem older’ part.”
“As well you should.” I took a few steps along the railing, then hopped off. “So, are you going to tell me how old you are?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Relatively youthful. You might have to act more immature, though, so I don’t feel bad.”
“I can probably manage that.”
He pulled me into another kiss and I was up against a tree pretty damned fast. He stuck to kissing, though. Like a high school make-out session. Only without the wandering hands, and with a guy who kissed a helluva lot better than anyone I’d dated in high school.
When things inevitably got a little too steamy, he backed off me, saying, “Okay, time out, or I’m going to try something I really shouldn’t on a public path.”
“You’re right,” I said. “We should cool it.”
“Damn.”
I laughed. “Sorry, but it’s only our second date.”
“So there’s a schedule?”
“What if there is?”
“Then I should know it.”
“To keep you from making any premature moves?”
“No, so I can decide if it’s worth it.”
I only laughed. We kissed a while longer, until I put on the brakes, and we sat down on the grass, looking up at the stars.
When I snuck a look at him, I felt my pulse quicken. That surprised me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy on a date. This comfortable. This hopeful. It wasn’t the racing heart I got when Adam was around, but it was something. It was definitely something.
We sat there quietly for another minute, then Michael said, “So you said you worked through school. Which college?” When I didn’t answer, he reddened. “Okay, that was presumptuous of me.”
“Nah. It’s cool. No college. Maybe someday. I wasn’t ready. I’d planned to go through for art, then realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. You know how some kids deal by writing angsty poetry? That’s what art was for me. I still enjoy it, but the older I get, the less I do. Good thing I realized that before I blew a bundle on tuition.”
“Smart move. I wish I’d taken a few years off. At eighteen, I barely knew what I wanted to do with my weekend, let alone my life.”
“You don’t like being a cop?”
He shrugged. “Don’t love it, don’t hate it. I won’t stay in the job forever.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I have no idea. I’m not exactly the most impulsive guy in the world. It takes me a while to make a decision.” He paused. “I do know one thing I want, though.”
“What’s that?”
“A third date.” He put his arms around me and kissed me again.
twenty
We dropped off the tire behind the garage and got back to the motel around eleven. As tempted as I was to invite Michael in, I settled for making out at the door. He made it easier by saying he had a few things to check out before he headed back to his motel. He promised to call me in the morning. I stood outside and watched him go. Was this something? It felt like something.
YET AGAIN, I’D been dropped off for the night, but had no intention of staying in. Days were for interviewing witnesses and following leads; nights were for breaking into places. I wanted to get into Cody’s office and, if I could, exact a little revenge for this afternoon.
One problem with this plan? Cody’s office, according to my map of Columbus, was on the outskirts, near the sawmill. He had another in Vancouver, but I suspected I stood a better chance of finding something damning here. There had to be plenty of buildings in Columbus that would make nicer—and more convenient—offices. So why would you keep a place out there? Only if you had business you didn’t want to conduct in town.
First, then, I needed my bike. The garage was a couple of blocks away. Columbus wasn’t exactly a dangerous place to wander at night, so I headed over.
My bike was inside a side bay, which the resident mechanic kid had either forgotten to lock or never bothered to. I rolled out my bike, got my tire, took my tool kit, and set to work.
In the half hour I was there, two cars passed the Main Street intersection. The lack of activity only made me extra cautious. I’d cast a perimeter spell around the lot so I could concentrate on changing the tire. When I was finishing up, someone breached the spell, setting off a mental alarm.
I looked up sharply. I stood. Even called out a “Hello?” just to let the intruder know I’d noticed him. Silence answered.
I cast a sensing spell. Yep, definitely a presence. A human-size one.
There was only one streetlamp near the garage, and my bike was under it. The full moon vanished behind clouds. When I stepped past the circle of light, I had to squint into the shadows. A flashlight would have helped. But I had a spell-powered one, so why would I weigh down my saddlebags with that? Well, maybe if I was being stalked by a human who shouldn’t see me tossing a ball of light into the air.
I cupped my hand and cast the light ball inside it, to look like a flashlight. Kind of. Then I strode toward the garage, the light leading the way.
Metal tinkled across asphalt, like someone had kicked a screw. It came from the west side of the shop. I extinguished the light and ran that way just in time to see the heels of someone darting around the corner. White soles. Sneakers.
Knockback spell at the ready, I rounded the rear of the garage. Empty. There was, however, a convenient Dumpster. I slid off my boots and crept along the wall until I was beside the bin. I listened and flexed my fingers, ready to cast at the first squeak of a shoe. When all stayed silent, I whispered a sensing spell. It came back positive.
Cardboard boxes were scattered around the base. I found the sturdiest, grabbed the edge of the bin, and swung up onto the box. It started to collapse just as I lifted off it.
