Strange Magic (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 9) Read online

  Although she sincerely hoped that wasn’t what either Evan or Uncle Jack had in mind.

  At last, her uncle nodded. Just barely, but she’d been watching for it, and she thought she saw the approval in his expression. Good. She wouldn’t have to worry about them having the witchy equivalent of pistols at sunrise.

  “Do you know any defensive spells, Evan?”

  “Not really,” Evan admitted. His shoulders lifted slightly. “That’s not my talent. That is, I’ve had to protect myself a few times when the spell I was attempting to unravel got a little out of hand, but I don’t think you’re talking about quite the same thing.”

  “No, I’m not,” Jack said. “I’m talking about having to defend yourself from an intelligent foe.”

  “But is it?” Zoe’s father put in, getting up from the couch so he could involve himself in the conversation. “That is, I thought this was just another spell that went wrong.”

  “It might have started out that way,” Luz said. “But we’re dealing with some kind of entity here, even if we still don’t know exactly what it is. So while we need Evan to assist with reversing the spell if possible” — for the briefest second, her eyes narrowed, as if she was becoming increasingly uncertain whether that would actually happen — “we also want to make sure that he and Zoe are equipped to take care of themselves in the case of a magical attack.”

  Her father didn’t look too thrilled by that prospect. Zoe wasn’t exactly happy about it, either, although at the moment she found herself more irritated by the way the prima had looked at Evan. After all, how many people could jump into a situation like this and fix everything right off the bat? Magic could be an amazing thing, but it still had its limits…as did the witches and warlocks who wielded it.

  “So what are you going to teach us?” Zoe asked. They might as well get down to it, even though six o’clock had come and gone, and they’d have to start thinking about dinner in the not-too-distant future.

  Or…would they? She realized then that she had no idea how long Evan had planned to stay down here in Phoenix. Maybe he’d thought this would be a simple project, and he’d just turn around and go home as soon as he was done.

  Jack seemed to pick up on some of her hesitation, because he looked over at Evan again. “This is something that’s going to take more than an hour or so. Where are you staying, Evan?”

  “I — ” He stopped there, his manner diffident. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I did bring stuff for a couple of days, just in case.”

  “You can stay here with us,” Luis Sandoval offered, and Zoe shot him a grateful look. Yes, maybe it would be weird to have Evan at the house all the time, but she also felt a little quiver of anticipation at the prospect. Maybe if she could catch a glimpse of him emerging from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist after his morning’s shower….

  Evan, on the other hand, appeared more dismayed by the idea than anything else. “Um — I wouldn’t want to impose. I can stay at a hotel.” He paused, then asked, “If there are any around here, that is.”

  “Several,” Luz said. This time her gaze went to Zoe and remained there for a few seconds, and her mouth tightened slightly. “I think it might be better if you did that, Evan. The de la Paz clan will take care of it for you.”

  “That’s really not necessary — ” he began, but she cut him off.

  “No, I insist. We called you down here. It’s the least we can do. I’ll make the arrangements now. The CopperWynd is closest to the house — I’ll see if they have anything available.”

  She stepped away so she could retrieve her phone from her purse, then went into the dining room to make the call. Evan glanced over at Jack, clearly trying to ignore the look of disappointment Zoe knew she must be wearing right then.

  “Well, I guess we’d better get started,” he said.

  The house was so big that it had its own exercise room, complete with a treadmill and stair-stepper and one of those Bowflex machines. No wonder Zoe’s father looked like he could put someone through a wall. His height and the bulk in his shoulders probably helped a lot when he was arguing a case in the courtroom.

  Did Zoe use any of this stuff? She certainly was slender, but that could have just been her natural build. Evan really didn’t know for sure, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start ogling her then and there, not with her uncle standing in front of them. Talk about putting someone through a wall. All right, Jack Sandoval probably wasn’t quite as broad as his older brother, but he was certainly tall and fit, and when he took off his sport coat and hung it from one of the treadmill’s handles, you could see the way his biceps strained against the white dress shirt he wore underneath.

  He also wore a shoulder holster, which he did not remove. Catching the way Evan’s gaze traveled to the gun in that holster, Jack said, “Luz called me as I was coming off shift. Didn’t have time to go home and change.”

  “Um, that’s fine,” Evan responded, then realized he probably sounded like a complete and utter idiot. He wasn’t used to that. He’d always thought he could handle himself just fine. Dropping the ball when it came time to confront the creature had rattled him more than he wanted to admit. Also, there was something in the older man’s self-assurance that made him feel as if he was just a dumb kid, even though Evan guessed that Jack Sandoval was probably only six or seven years older than he was. Definitely Luis’s younger brother by a good bit.

  But then Evan reminded himself that Jack’s age wasn’t really the issue here. Learning how to defend himself definitely was. That thing he’d seen back at the golf course had loomed over him, something Evan wasn’t really used to. If it had come down to a physical confrontation, he wouldn’t have been able to prevail against the creature. And Zoe? It looked as if it could have crushed her in one hand.

  Of course, she’d already proved that she knew how to take care of herself.

  “First off,” Jack said, “I want you both to carry these.” He fished in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a couple of black stones, each of them cut into rough facets, not smooth like jet.

  “What are they?” Evan asked, even as he took the stone from Jack and held it in his hand, feeling the cool, slightly rough surfaces against his skin.

  “Black tourmaline,” Zoe responded. She took the second stone and slipped it into the pocket of her skirt. “It’s used for protection. It helps to guard against evil spirits.”

  Privately, Evan had never bought into a lot of that sort of mumbo-jumbo, even though he knew many of the people in his own clan used combinations of crystals to aid them in their own magic and spell casting. His own gift had never required any sort of outside assistance, nothing but the raw power he’d been born with. Then again, that gift hadn’t done so well today.

  Jack gave an approving nod. “That’s its most common use, but it also can help guide you toward a disruptive spirit. So if you’re having trouble tracking down this entity — for lack of a better word — the stones can help you in locating it.”

  That would be useful. Yes, Evan’s power had guided them to the creature several times now, but what would have happened if he hadn’t wasted any time and had made a beeline toward it? Maybe then it wouldn’t have had the opportunity to change so much.

  And he really didn’t want to think about how it might be changing again, might be morphing into something he couldn’t even imagine. What if it kept growing in power and strength? Zoe’s skill at sending it running was useful — and sort of amazing — but sooner or later they’d have to prevent it from escaping so they could drive it back to whatever plane of existence it had come from.

  “Okay,” Evan said, then put the stone in his jeans pocket. “Anything else?”

  The look Jack gave him then was another of those measuring ones, the kind of flat stare that seemed to take in every detail of his appearance, his voice and inflection, cataloguing it for later use. The older man had been wearing a jacket, and had on a dress shirt and pants, and so Evan guesse
d he wasn’t a beat cop, but some kind of a detective, the sort of man who spent his days ferreting out every detail of a case in order to bring a criminal to justice. Right then Evan could only hope Jack Sandoval wasn’t so perceptive that he could see the impure thoughts he’d been having about his niece only a few minutes earlier.

  “There’s lots ‘else,’” Jack responded, his tone casual. “But a lot of it depends on what you’re up against. Now, when I caught up with that little creep who tried to kidnap Zoe, that wasn’t too hard, because I knew what his talent was and made sure to cast spells so his magic wouldn’t have any effect on me. This thing, though — it’s not like any spirit or demon I’ve ever heard of, which makes it harder. The tourmalines are a start, something that works against just about any kind of negative energy. There are basic banishment spells, too. This is probably the simplest one.”

  He straightened then, dark eyes suddenly more piercing, as if he was staring past Evan and Zoe into some sort of void populated by hellish creatures no sane person would want to imagine. Voice strong and carrying, he said,

  “To any spirits who threaten me in this place,

  Fight water with water and fire with fire

  Banish their souls into nothingness

  Remove their powers to the last trace

  Let these evil beings flee

  Through time and space.”

  Although they stood in an ordinary enough room, surrounded by the trappings of ordinary suburban consumerism, Evan couldn’t prevent a shiver from moving through him. Jack Sandoval’s voice had deepened as he spoke the words of the spell, and for a second Evan got a flash of the man wearing dark robes, arms raised to fight off some unseen foe, even though Jack stood there in his regular street clothes, and in fact hadn’t moved at all.

  Evan had never experienced anything like it. Sure, he’d been present at the McAllister clan’s rituals for Samhain, their invocations on occasions like Yule and Imbolc, and yet he’d never had the hair stand up on the back of his neck like this. In that moment, he realized the de la Paz witches must have faced terrible foes in their past, enemies that would make the dark magic–wielding members of the Wilcox clan, such as Damon Wilcox, look like Sunday school teachers.

  No wonder they’d been so spooked by the prospect of Matías Escobar and everything he represented. They knew what they were up against.

  Zoe felt it, too — Evan risked a quick glance over at her, and saw how her warm-toned skin suddenly looked paler, how her mouth had tightened, her jaw going tense. When she spoke, however, she sounded almost normal, except for the faintest tremor at the beginning of her question, gone so fast Evan wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it.

  “Can we go over it again, Uncle Jack? I want to make sure I get it exactly right.”

  So he had her and Evan repeat the words, over and over again, until Evan was pretty sure he’d be able to say the damn spell in his sleep. He’d thought for sure he’d feel foolish intoning those same words over and over, but he hadn’t. The sound of his own voice had been sturdy and sure, as if he, too, was hearkening back to a past his clan didn’t really talk much about, when they’d been beset by enemies on every side, and had retreated to Arizona Territory to make a safer life for themselves.

  “Good,” Jack Sandoval said at last. “You’ve both got it. I think that’s a good start. But now” — he glanced down at the slim, expensive-looking watch strapped to his wrist — “I think that’s where we call it quits for the evening. It’s almost eight o’clock, and you haven’t eaten anything yet, have you?”

  Evan shook his head. Zoe said, “No. I’ll see if my parents can order something in for all of us.”

  “That’s all right,” Jack replied. “I need to get home. But if anything strange comes up — and I mean anything — you call me. I don’t care what time it is.”

  “Yes, Uncle Jack,” she said, although Evan didn’t quite buy the demure note in her voice. It really wasn’t her style, or at least didn’t seem to be, based on their short acquaintance.

  Jack didn’t appear all that convinced, either, but he only gave her a grim smile and said, “I mean it, Zoe. You know what happens to heroes, right?”

  This time it was her turn to shake her head.

  “They end up dead.” Jack retrieved his jacket from where it had been hanging from the treadmill’s handle, shrugged it over his shoulder, and left the exercise room.

  Evan and Zoe stared at each other for a long moment. Neither of them said a word.

  7

  Much to Zoe’s dismay, Evan left soon after that, once Luz had given him the information about the CopperWynd resort where he’d be staying, along with directions. Now that the prima had accomplished her goal of making certain that her vulnerable niece and the McAllister warlock wouldn’t be sleeping under the same roof, she departed as well, saying that she needed to get home. Zoe had given her a hug goodbye, because she knew if she didn’t, Aunt Luz would know something was up, but Zoe wasn’t feeling very affectionate right then.

  Her parents ordered takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant, clearly hoping that would cheer her up, but she was in no mood to be cheered. She ate her egg drop soup but picked at the lemon chicken, then announced she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Neither her mother or her father tried to stop her from heading upstairs to her room, although she could tell they wanted to talk to her some more, wanted to discuss what had happened to her that day.

  Too bad. She was tired of talking. Or rather, she was tired of being talked at, and she had a feeling that was exactly what would happen if she stayed down in the dining room with them.

  So she went up to the second floor, relieved beyond belief that her brother Zander was staying the night at a friend’s house so a bunch of his geek buddies could be up until all hours playing World of Warcraft. Or maybe it was Call of Duty. She couldn’t remember for sure, since she’d always thought video games were a big waste of time. But she was grateful now, since it meant Zander would be out of her hair until probably noon tomorrow, if not later. This whole situation was complicated enough without having to deal with his annoying questions. He never seemed to take much of anything seriously, and would probably laugh his ass off at her current predicament, amused beyond belief by the idea that some kind of supernatural monster was roaming around the city because his sister hadn’t met a guy who could kiss her the right way.

  Okay, it did sound terrible when you put it like that.

  She’d snagged a fortune cookie as she left the table, more because no Chinese meal felt complete without one than because she was really hungry. Now she tore apart the plastic wrapper and shook the cookie into her palm, then cracked it open. A little white piece of paper fell out.

  You will meet a tall stranger.

  She wanted to laugh at that one. Well, she supposed it was true enough. She’d actually met two tall strangers today — one a horrible being from a strange dimension, the other a handsome McAllister warlock.

  It would have been much better if she could have just met Evan McAllister.

  Scowling, she threw the pieces of the cookie into the trash, along with the “fortune.” Then she kicked off her sandals and fell on her bed, all the worry and fear and uncertainty of the day seeming to catch up with her then, to make every muscle in her body ache.

  But that wasn’t the only ache she was currently experiencing. She wished with all her being that Evan could have stayed here at the house. True, he was only a few miles away and could be here quickly enough if something happened, but that small bit of reassurance felt like cold comfort at the moment. Strange how she could miss him so much when she’d only known him for basically half a day. She did miss him, though — the flash of his smile, the warm light that entered his greenish eyes when she did or said something he found admirable.

  Then, too, there was something quiet and contained and almost brooding about him, as if he was hiding a hurt he wanted to keep secret from the world. What that could be, Zoe had no idea. As
far as she knew, no great tragedies had struck the McAllister clan any time in the recent past, except for the horrible loss of Roslyn McAllister at Matías Escobar’s hands. But while it must have been terrible to lose a cousin like that, Zoe didn’t think Evan had any close ties to Roslyn. Her brother was named Adam; Zoe knew that because Adam was now her cousin Alex’s cousin-in-law. Or something like that. Alex’s wife Caitlin and Adam McAllister were cousins — real first cousins, like Zoe was with Alex Trujillo.

  Damn, she thought then as she stared up at the ceiling, and I thought it was complicated enough keeping track of all the de la Paz cousins. It’s going to start to get really crazy if we start having a lot more of these cross-clan marriages.

  Then again, she knew she could stand a good deal of craziness if it meant having Evan in her life.

  And that, unfortunately, was the craziest thing of all. Although she’d been annoyed that she couldn’t go out with guys the way her friends from high school did, had to act like she was second thing to a nun, for a long time it really hadn’t seemed like the end of the world. She’d never met anyone she found all that attractive — at least not enough to go against her family’s wishes — and so the lack of relationships hadn’t bothered her much. In her mind, she’d told herself she would meet her perfect consort, just like Angela McAllister had, and then she’d get her own happily ever after.

  Zoe hadn’t counted on the consort search stretching out forever. She hadn’t thought her happy ending might elude her, might turn out to be a terrible nightmare instead.

  And she really could never have guessed that she’d meet a McAllister warlock who was far too old for her, and fall for him like a ton of bricks. She couldn’t get him out of her mind — his warm, friendly voice, deep, but not too deep; the lush dark red of his hair; the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Even the tiny bits of grease she’d seen around his cuticles, as if he’d been working on his car when summoned and had cleaned up…but quickly, so he’d left evidence of the day’s labors still showing on his hands.