Kate looked as if she didn't understand what that last bit meant. Or didn't want to understand. Alice felt too tired to explain. "Just try holding that damned rock and looking into it, will you? You know Jeff. If anyone can find him, it'd be you."
Kate grunted to her feet. She knew where the crystal lived. Alice didn't have to find the energy to show her. And then Kate was back, big sea-green chunk of tourmaline looking smaller in her hands, far-away expression already taking over her face. Stone magic, she didn't need the ritual drug Haskell Witches had brewed down through the ages to set their souls free to wander after visions.
She mumbled words that weren't English in a voice that wasn't Kate's, raising the hair on Alice's forearms, Kate had never learned Latin or Welsh and this sounded like a mix of both. She still held the brooch in one hand, touching stone to stone, Alice felt sudden fear like a knife cutting the breath from her lungs, fear of mixing magics that had been apart for centuries. Then the voice that wasn't Kate's switched to English in mid sentence. "Moonrise. Strongest at moonrise, full moon, bring the blood. Feed the stones. Wake the stones."
And then she screamed, screamed something in Spanish too fast for Alice to catch but she recognized a word or two and her heart froze for a second before beating again. She jerked herself out of the chair and snatched the stone away and the stream of words and pain cut off like she'd switched off the radio. Kate stood there in the middle of the parlor, swaying, blinking.
"What the fuck?" Caroline braced her body in the open door to the sewing room, the Morgan girls' bedroom, worn bathrobe draped over underwear, one hand propping herself up and the other rubbing bleary eyes. She'd been sleeping, still searching for the soul she'd left somewhere in transit between Arizona and Maine. Jet lag.
"You catch any of that Spanish?"
Caroline blinked and rubbed her eyes again. "Spanish? Pain. Fire. Hatred. Heard some other stuff, not Spanish, think it might have been Quechua. Olivia Martinez does fieldwork in the Andes, that sounded like some of her tapes. What the hell's going on here?"
"Goddamn brujo's going on, that's what. I screwed up. Now that Peruvian bastard's got Jeff Burns and plans another sacrifice up at Kate's stone circle. And tonight's the full moon."
Alice saw that run through Caroline's brain, saw her wince as the neurons woke up and caught implications. She shook her head like a horse bedeviled by flies, trying to clear the inner fog.
"Kate and I have to get up there before moonrise, stop the bastard before he can draw on some serious Power. And he's wearing Jackie's body. Blood tie, that's why Kate was reading him."
Caroline shook her head again, awake at last. "You ain't going nowhere, old witch. You couldn't rassle that kitten and come out on top. I saw you when you came off shift. You look worse now."
They migrated to the kitchen, all three women drawn by the seductive aroma of fresh coffee. But Caroline wouldn't let Alice have a mug.
"No way. You're headed for bed."
"You want Kate to face that alone?"
"I'll watch her back. It'll have to be her magic up there, anyway. Not much you could do with it." She paused, taking sips of scalding coffee. Her eyes widened. "And if that spook is changing bodies, I think the Hunter might have a thing or two to say. If she's willing to get tangled in whiteskin battles." Caroline shuddered. "Skinwalkers. She doesn't like 'em."
Kate frowned and started to speak, then thought better of it. Probably didn't want to pry into Injun religious secrets. Kate was a damned strange cop. A Stonefort cop.
Cop, badge and gun and all. Alice fumbled in her pocket and found the key to her locked cupboard, the place where she kept ammunition and medical stuff safe from the girls. She opened it and pulled out a small plastic box, way too heavy for its size, and handed it to Kate.
"Birthday present, few weeks early. I had Otto Crary make them up, full-power .44 Mag loads tailored to your Colt. Slugs are sterling silver. You'll have to find your own horse, Kemo Sabe."
Probably should change the gender somewhere in that title. She'd intended the cartridges as a Lone Ranger cop joke. But silver bullets might have power against the brujo . . .
The phone rang. Alice turned, picked up the handset, listened, identified the voice. Then she stiffened, rage washing the weakness from her body. "Yes, you have to go in. If one of you gets killed, it's your own goddamn karma! You broke it, you bought it! Are you trying to make me start a fashion for sealskin coats?"
She slammed the phone back on its hook and slumped, the anger draining away into total exhaustion. Caroline took one look at her face, grabbed an arm, and hoisted Alice over her shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"You are going to bed. Now! I don't care if the Prince of Darkness himself comes pounding on the friggin' door. Kate and I can save the goddamn world without you."
Caroline's so much smaller than Kate, I keep forgetting how strong she's grown. Paddling a canoe or kayak day after day, hiking and climbing all over those canyons, Lainie's little girl isn't a kid anymore. Right now, she could pin me down with one hand.
Alice gave up and sagged across Caroline's shoulder. "Bed" sounded so damned good . . . The House faded around her before they even reached the stairs.
"Phone call," she mumbled, voice pitched to Caroline's ears only. "That flint your father stole. Jaguar god. It's hungry. Dangerous. Morgans are
