call me again," he said to the man as he started for an elaborately tooled wooden door, but upon reaching it, he hesitated. "You either," he said to me, and then he... sort of... smiled?
Dont call him? I thought. Like I ever would? But I forced my breathing to remain slow as I glimpsed the hallway beyond the door, an idea trickling through me. Carpet and soft colors, pictures on the walls. I was in a private home, not an institution. As the witches watched the door shut behind him, my hand crept back to my jeans pocket to find the lump of my phone. Holy crap, Nick had reminded me of a way to get out of here. An active phone line could break a circle - if one was skilled enough in taking them down.
The door snicked shut, and I heard a sigh from one of the five witches. "I really dislike that man," one said.
"Me, too," I said loudly, then pulled my fingers back from the cramping sensation of the barrier. It was still too strong - they needed to lower their guard more.
Apparently they'd been waiting for Nick to leave, because they gathered behind the sandy-haired witch with the laptop to face me like a jury. The woman looked to be an athletic forty, but I was willing to bet that her surfer-toned body was actually closer to a hundred. You don't find that grace or confidence in a mere forty years, even if you can keep your balance in a tight curl. Her short hair was bleached by sun and salt, not chemicals in a salon, and her narrow, angular nose was peeling from sunburn.
Balancing her was the older witch with that nonfunctioning amulet. He appeared to be about forty as well, and his clothes were stodgy and expensive looking. They clung to him a little tightly, telling me he usually had a slimming charm. Settling in behind them was the middle male/female pair who both appeared to be a spelled thirty, and behind them, a young, gawky guy who was more than likely Vivian's counterpart, probably close to my age and still gaining his full, deadly potential. They all wore the coven's Mobius glyph, the chunky thirtyish woman using it to hold back her long blond hair.
"Rachel Morgan," laptop woman said, her voice taking on a formal cadence. "You have been brought here before the coven of moral and ethical standards to answer for several serious crimes."
I sighed, holding little hope of coming out ahead here. "Why didn't you come see me? We could've settled this over coffee. It would have been less dramatic than Vivian destroying some store's produce section. The FIB was there and everything." I mentioned it only because I wanted them to know there was a report filed. This wasn't going to simply go away.
Sure enough, the woman looked up, cool and unshakable, but her finger twitched.
"Brooke?" the older man said in sharp warning, eying my strawberry-tangled hair. "We agreed Vivian was there for reconnaissance only."
Oh! It really is her name then, I thought. Brooke barely shrugged, but I could tell she was pissed at me. Yeah, this is all my fault.
"The subject's pattern changed. I was afraid we'd lose her," Brooke said. "There wasn't time to ask everyone's opinion. It was a calculated risk, and Vivian was willing to take it."
The subject's pattern changed, eh? Al sending me home early, perhaps? Just how long had they been watching me? Angry, I rubbed an ash-coated chunk of strawberry off my sleeve. "I don't care what Kalamack told you, I'm not a threat," I said, and there was a nervous shifting among them. Clearly they were surprised I knew he was involved.
Brooke's lips tightened, and she glanced back at them, irate. "We think you are."
"I'm not," I shot back, glancing at the witch with the long blond hair listening to the oldest man whispering in her ear. "Trent's a big drama queen."
Damn it, I was going to smack Trent. I was going to smack him good. I was not a demon to be pulled around like a pull toy.
Peeved, Brooke turned to the whispering behind her. "Will you do that later?" she griped, and I tested the barrier to find it still strong. The line I was connected to surged, and I scrambled to handle it. Earthquake, maybe?
The oldest man, the one with the useless amulet, gestured mockingly to Brooke to get on with it, and she gave him an equally