whiskey witches 01 - whisky witches Page 3

  She was, however, a huge fan of Queen, and her favorite song just happened to be Bicycle Race. He replaced a couple of the letters with the numbers he knew her logical mind was likely to use. Still blocked.

  Holding his breath, he did it again but added Leah’s age.

  He was in.

  He closed his eyes, expelling a heavy breath. Shit.

  Paige startled violently enough to shake the bed and emitted a gut-wrenching cry filled. He looked over at her, trying to pry his heart from his throat.

  Her eyes were open. White-knuckled hands gripped the comforter beneath her.

  He scrambled to the bed, grabbing his flask of holy water on the way. “Pea?”

  “He’s here,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, her whole body relaxing as if she suddenly fell asleep.

  He unscrewed the cap and sprinkled a bit of water over her. It lay against her cheek, on her bared arms, on her exposed belly. Nothing. Hollywood made it look so easy. Throw some holy water, spout some words in Latin and presto, instant dead demon. If only it always worked that way.

  “Pea, you’re dreaming,” he said, setting the water on the table next to the bed. He grabbed her shoulders and shook lightly. “Come on. Wake up.”

  “Leah,” she sobbed. Her clawed hand raked at her heart, tugging the v-neck of her tank down to do so. Blood welled in the trails her nails left.

  “Oh, shit.” Dexx slapped her face. Nothing.

  She undulated. Her body twisted in pain. Grief ravaged her face.

  “Not good. Not good. Very pissed off woman with the ability to call demons. Not freakin’ good.” He reached up to slap her a bit harder, but stopped at the sight of the sigil on her wrist glowing a fiery red.

  “Oh, God.” He grabbed the holy water off the table and glared into the flask. “Richard, if you shysted me, I am so gonna kick your ass.” He poured the rest of the flask on her arm where the rune burned. It sizzled and evaporated instantly. “Oh . . . shit.”

  His mind scrambled, coming up blank. Trained demon hunter. Honed instincts.

  Scared shitless.

  Her eyes shot open. The chocolate brown was gone. Only black remained.

  “Paige!” He jumped on the bed and straddled her, taking her shoulders in his hands.

  Her lips twisted as she grabbed hold of his wrists. “Hunter.” The voice that came out of her resonated with a thousand different tones.

  Demon. Not Paige.

  “Let her go.”

  The thing just smiled with her lips. “I will protect the key at all costs.”

  “PAIGE?”

  The demon pressed the burning rune to Dexx’s arm. “Look what you did.”

  Fire shot through his entire body. Pressure built inside his head. Sounds invaded his ears. Visions raced across his eyes. Emotions swam through his heart.

  “Paige,” he roared.

  She felt nothing. No love. No hurt. No anger. Just numbness.

  Concern shone in Leslie’s brown eyes. “How about you call Leah early today?”

  Paige called at bedtime every night, hoping to catch that one magical moment of pre-bedtime festivities again. She hoped she could read Leah a story, or sing to her, or talk to her like they used to when they’d been together. She missed holding her, Leah cuddling close, missed that one sacred moment of the day. There was no one else, just the two of them, mother and daughter, sharing the quiet time before bed. The hurt that filled her was too much, too overpowering, leaving her feeling . . . nothing.

  Paige closed her eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Paige.” Dexx twisted with pain. “Paige. You’ve gotta wake up. Fight this.”

  She walked over to the phone with a growing doom blooming in her heart. It was the same every time. She knew what to expect. She knew what she would hear, what would happen. She knew the pain she would go to bed with. She bit her lip as she dialed her mother’s number, and choked down the rising tears of desperate frustration. She wouldn’t stop. She would let Leah know she loved her now and forever.

  “Hello?” Rachel’s cheerful voice said as she answered the phone.

  “Rachel,” Paige said, her tone devoid of emotion.

  “Paige?” Rachel asked in surprise. “You’re calling early. Do you have a date?”

  Guilt flared in Paige’s chest. Was she being selfish for calling early? She just wanted to take a bath, let some of the pain ebb before she went to bed, maybe push the nightmares aside for one night. “No. Just calling early. That’s all.”

  “Well, Leah’s in the middle of something right now. I could interrupt her if that would make you happy.”

  Paige rolled her eyes. What could she do? Argue with the woman? What good would that do? Every time she stood up to her, Rachel used Leah as a hostage, buying Paige’s submission. “Fine. I’ll call back later.”

  “Wait,” Rachel said quickly before Paige could hang up. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something without Leah here.”

  Paige raised an angry eyebrow. “What? Need more money?”

  “What did I ever do to you?” Rachel admonished. “All I ever did was love you.”

  Paige kept herself silent for fear of losing her chance this evening.

  “I want you to come up some weekend. Soon,” Rachel said.

  That threw Paige completely off-guard. “What?” Hope flared painfully in her chest, poking at the numbness she so desperately needed to cope.

  “Leah misses you and I was just thinking that it would be really good for her.” Rachel paused. “I didn’t want to mention it in front of her. You know how you are. You’re never on time and were never dependable.”

  She was as dependable as she could be. Sometimes traffic or work or a new case would interfere, but she tried to—She shook her head. She always tried to be dependable.

  “It hurt Leah more than she ever let on that you didn’t come home when you said you would.”

  “But—”

  “Just because you gave birth to this little girl doesn’t make you a mother. There’s more to being a mother than having a job.”

  Guilt pounded through her like a gilded hammer. “I did the best I could.”

  Rachel’s tone turned silky sweet. “I know you did, baby. I should have been there for you more when you were growing up. I should have shown you how to be a better mother.”

  Paige rolled tear-clogged eyes and leaned up against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Okay. You don’t need to say anything.” Hurt laced the tone of her words. “I understand.”

  “What do you want me to say, Rachel?” Paige asked, her voice slipping. “You abandoned us when I was four.”

  “You just had to throw that in my face, didn’t you?” she said, sniffling. “Can you be up here next weekend?”

  “That’s tomorrow. I can’t afford the plane ticket with that little advance. Even if I got in the car now, I doubt I’d make it in time to get up there and come back in time to get to work.”

  “Work. It’s always work with you, isn’t it?”

  “Someone has to pay the bills. You don’t.”

  The line was silent. “I’m trying to help you.”

  Paige swallowed. “How about next weekend? Gives me time to talk to my boss, get a day off. I’ll drive up there and then drive back.”

  Rachel clicked her tongue. “Sounds fine. You can’t stay here, though. I can’t run the risk that you’d steal her in the middle of the night.”

  Like you did? “Of course. I expected nothing less.”

  “Paige,” Dexx called through gritted teeth. “Come on! Wake up.”

  “Dexx?” Paige asked, her voice tight with tears. “What is this? What’s happening?”

  “I need you to wake up.”

  “Is this real?” she whispered.

  He grimaced. “Yes.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, God.” She closed her eyes.

  She had drove days straight without stopping for more than gas and sleep. She called Rac
hel to let her know she had made it into town and to ask if it was okay to come straight over. Rachel had been cheerful when she’d said okay. Too cheerful. A sinking feeling filled Paige’s stomach, but she pulled up in front of her mother’s house, a tall beast built onto the side of the mountain itself.

  Hope loomed heavily in her chest as she walked up the steep concrete stairs to the front door. Would Leah be happy to see her? Would Rachel allow them to play games or sit and hold each other? Would they be allowed to talk? How tall had she grown? She was almost four. What size pants was she wearing? Was her favorite color still pink?

  She clutched Leah’s early birthday gift a little tighter. She’d spent two hours trying to pick out the perfect gift, not knowing when she’d be allowed to see her daughter again. It had to be perfect, something Leah’d want to keep with her, to remember her by. She took in a calming breath and knocked on the door, pasting on a hopeful smile. She heard footsteps and the doorknob rattle. Nervous excitement shot through her. Did she still like daisies? Had she grown out of Blue’s Clues? Did she like Dora the Explorer? Was she into Barbie yet, or My Little Pony? Did she like CareBears or maybe Rainbow Bright? It was coming back. So was Strawberry Shortcake.

  “Ms. Paige Whiskey?” a male voice said.

  Paige looked up in surprise to see a uniformed officer standing in the doorway. “Yes.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Paige’s mouth opened and that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grew. “Rachel told me to come. She said I could spend some time with my daughter.” She knew. She knew what was going on. She saw the trap for what it was now.

  “Please don’t do this,” she whispered, her eyes filling with hopeless and heart-broken tears. “Please.”

  “Ms. Whiskey,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

  Silent sobs wracked her body as she shook her head. “No. Rachel told me to come. She said I could see my daughter. Please, don’t do this.”

  “I have a restraining order. You were supposed to have been served with it yesterday.”

  “I was on the road yesterday. Rachel knew this. I called her when I left.”

  “If you don’t leave now, I’m going to have to arrest you.”

  Paige looked up to the sky as tears fell from her eyes. “Can I—Can I just see her?”

  He looked at her, his dark eyes filled with sympathy as he shook his head. “You know the law.”

  She tried to still her sobs as she attempted to look behind him. “I’ve been driving for two days for this.” She looked him in the eye. “Please. Please.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Whiskey,” he said, opening the screen door and taking her arm. “Really, I am.”

  As soon as he stepped through the door, Paige was able to see her.

  She’d grown. The top of her blonde head was even with Rachel’s abdomen. Her hair was in poofy pigtails and she wore a bright blue shirt with matching shorts.

  Her baby.

  Rachel wrapped her arm around Leah’s shoulders. The woman’s expression was smug.

  Leah’s expression was . . . crushed.

  Paige broke. She reached for the door even as the officer pulled her away. “Leah.”

  “Momma,” Leah screamed with all the sorrow and heart-ache one little girl could muster.

  “Leah,” Paige cried, trying to fight the officer, trying to get one last glimpse of her girl. “I just want to hug her. Please, just let me hold her.”

  “I’m sorry,” the officer said, taking his arm around her middle and practically carrying her down the steps.

  “Momma,” Leah screamed again.

  “Leah,” Paige cried. “I love you.” She twisted in the officer’s arm. “I got you a present.”

  “Stop. Paige.” Dexx ran up to the officer holding her. “I’ve got her. I’ll take over from here.”

  “Just keep her away from the house,” the officer said. “Or I will have to arrest her.”

  “Yeah,” he said, fighting her resisting, sobbing body. “I’ve got her.”

  The vision stopped.

  “Oh, God.”

  The link between their arms broke. The fire racing along the rune went cold. He held her close as she slept. He felt ragged and tired, like he’d just gone nine rounds. “Jesus Christ. What did we do to you?”

  DEXX DECIDED TO tranquilize her. He didn’t know what she would do, how she would react, and the demon had gotten too close. Leslie and, hopefully, Alma were on their way. He just had to buy time till then.

  He needed a few things in town. First stop, vet’s office. He pulled his 1976 Dodge Challenger up to the vet’s office. He shut off the rumbling engine of his 1976 Dodge Challenger. Taking a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose before sliding his fingers along the bottom rim of his eye sockets. How could he call himself a friend if he’d never understood how she’d felt? They’d banished her emotions, acting like she didn’t have the right to remember her own daughter. And why?

  Because she’d raised a few demons to kill her mother? If Dexx had lived through that, he wouldn’t have had to summon anything. He would have killed the woman with his bare hands.

  Swallowing, he got out of the car. The hot, muggy air greeted him gently, beckoning to him with the promise of shade from the nearby tree. He walked through the door. The dinging of the bell to herald his arrival and he waited at the counter.

  A teenage girl in a black t-shirt and jeans entered from a door in the back. “Can I help you?”

  Dexx plastered on his charm. He had a face that could get him anything and he knew it. It was his weapon of choice when dealing with the mundanes. Wait. What was it the Harry Potter crowd called them? Oh, hell. He couldn’t recall. “I’m getting ready to go on a long trip, but my dog doesn’t handle car rides well. I’m out of diazepam, which is what I normally give her. I was wondering if I could get some more.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” the girl said with a smile. “What’s her name?”

  His eye twitched. “Doxxie.”

  “And what breed is she?”

  “Great Dane.”

  “Oh, she’s a big dog.”

  He nodded, keeping his expression relaxed and genuine. “We’re actually getting ready to leave right now. I was getting ready to give her the dose so we could go when I discovered I was out. I just forgot to reorder. It’s so silly of me.”

  She winced as if suddenly recalling something. “I shouldn’t do this.”

  “She gets really anxious and tears up the back seat of my car.”

  She peered over his shoulder at the parking spaces, returned her attention to him, then did a double-take. “Is that your car?”

  Pride surged through him. Having an older car had been a good idea when he rebelled against his mother. His hands had needed something to do, and re-building the old junker had been ideal. Now, with all the time he spent on the road, getting a car with better gas mileage would be more cost effective, but then he’d have a harder time fixing it himself. Also, there were the reactions. He’d never get over that.

  “Well, um, I’m sure Doctor Tom will understand.” She blinked, probably not even realizing she was giving him a flirt, and went to the rear door. “I’ll just be right . . . back.”

  Dexx thumped the counter with his thumb. “I’ll be here.”

  Paige, of course, was his Great Dane and she was the one she’d given his last dose to. He felt certain she’d be out for another few hours. A normal person would be out the rest of the day with the dose he gave her. She had a demon trying to get in. The idea of what that thing could do scared the crap right out of him.

  With the refilled prescription in hand, he exited the office, and was on his way to the police station.

  St. Francisville wasn’t that small a town, but it was quaint. Downtown had a real earthy feel to it, and even had more than a few white picket fences. The police station wasn’t much to look at. Most really weren’t. He walked up to the front d
esk.

  A man in a police uniform worked it. Well, he was actually reading a comic book. He put it away, offering a smile. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Chief White?”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “No, but he has questions for me.”

  “Name?”

  “Dexx Colt. I’m with Detective Whiskey.”

  The police officer frowned, but picked up the phone and spoke into it. After a brief moment, he nodded and gestured Dexx back.

  Chief White was a big, burly guy who dwarfed the array of desks. In a fist fight, Dexx wouldn’t necessarily lay money on himself. This guy looked like he had the strength and the know-how to take Dexx down, no matter how scrappy he might be.

  Dexx offered his hand. “Dexx Colt. I’m with Detective Whiskey.”

  “Nice to put a name to your face.” The chief’s low voice carried. “Follow me.”

  His office looked like just about every other police chief’s office Dexx had ever visited. Desk. Files. A lamp. A computer. Awards on the walls.

  The chief closed the door behind Dexx with a tapping of the blinds against the glass. “I hope you’re here to explain a few things, Mr. Colt.”

  “Dexx, please, and, yes. I am. What do I call you?”

  “Brian. Or Chief, or White. Whichever you prefer.”

  Dexx had never understood why Paige preferred to address her colleagues by their last name. “How much of the truth do you want to hear?”

  Brian gestured to a chair and sat behind his desk. “All of it. I know about Detective Whiskey’s association with the Whiskey Witches. I know about her investigations, her knowledge on the arcane. I’m even aware of some of the more elusive aspects of her Dallas investigations, and some of the events that led to her moving to Denver. What I don’t know is what you do for them.”

  “Them being the Whiskey Witches?”

  Brian nodded.

  “Well, let’s start small. I’m a demon hunter.”