Page 41 of Oohs, Ahhhs, and Orbs

Her lashes fluttered as her eyelids slowly closed. The invisible hold on my mate released, and Bridgette’s knees bent. Her body crumpled, sagging to the floor as if she were a doll that had been dropped once done being played with.

“No!” I felt hot, angry tears fill my eyes. They obscured my vision, and I could no longer clearly see her. As I wiped them away frantically, a loud, disembodied laughter rang out around the room.

A scream filled the room, and I jolted upright in bed, my heart racing from a combination of the dream and the unexpected sound. I glanced over to see Bridgette already sitting up and panting heavily.

“Logan!” she cried and flung herself into my arms. “Mrs. Donaldson! You have to call her now. Right now! Please call Mrs. Donaldson,” she sobbed.

I held her close, not wanting to let her go. The dream I’d just had and the reality of the moment had crossed over into one waking nightmare. I’d just watched the woman I loved die and was incapable of doing anything to stop it.

“Please, Logan!”

I shook my head, trying to clear the images of the dream from my mind, knowing that I would never be able to forget. “Okay, little witch. I’ll call right now.”

With her still wrapped tightly in my hold, I reached with one hand over to the nightstand where my phone rested. I searched quickly through the contacts until I found the one for the officer who was currently stationed outside the Donaldson residence.

“Officer Moody here,” came the voice of the young police officer. He sounded alert, and though I was relieved, I wasted no time getting to the point.

“Officer Moody. This is Detective Storm. I need you to check on Mrs. Donaldson. Do not return to your vehicle until you have visibly checked on her welfare,” I demanded brusquely.

“Yes, sir.”

I ended the call, knowing that he would call back as soon as he had checked in. I turned to look down at Bridgette, who was weeping in my arms, her cheek pressed against my chest.

“Shh,” I soothed, running my rough hand over her arm. “They are checking on her now. Okay?”

Bridgette nodded, then abruptly stopped before shaking her head. “It’s too late,” she whispered hoarsely. “It’s too late.” She swallowed and then looked up at me, her lashes sticking together with her tears, and her eyes red.

Even distraught, she was still beautiful. I brushed back the hair that was sticking to her cheeks. I clenched my jaw, believingher. Somehow, the killer had struck again, and my little witch had sensed it from across town.

“I’m sorry, little witch.”

Her lip trembled, and a large tear fell down her cheek. “I was dreaming,” she began. “You and I were downstairs. I was making potions.” She stopped and swallowed as my heart started racing again. “You were walking toward me, teasing me. Or I was teasing you, I don’t know. Then something, some entity, arrived. You froze in place, and I couldn’t reach for you, no matter how hard I tried.” A sob escaped from her as my chest grew tight. “The wards in the shop woke me up again,” she whispered. “And I knew...”

“Shh,” I said again. “You’re alright. I’m here, and you are alive.” At the moment, I wasn’t sure if I was trying to soothe her or myself. Hearing her tell me that we’d shared the same dream was somehow more terrifying than the dream itself had been.

My phone rang next to my leg, where I had dropped it after the call, making both of us startle. She looked at me expectantly, hope shining in her eyes as I answered.

“Detective Storm.” I listened briefly as I stared down into my mate’s face, watching as the hope died and the tears welled one more time. “Thank you, Officer Moody. I will be there in about twenty minutes. Call the crime scene techs and Detective MacKenzie.”

I clicked off the call and set my phone down with a heavy sigh. I turned to face Bridgette again and reached out to hold both her upper arms. “Listen to me,” I demanded, and waited for my girl to look at me. When she brought those reddened eyes back to mine, I wanted to tear the world apart until I found the monster who had killed a woman tonight and broken the spirit of my sweet girl. “You do not blame yourself. You couldn’t have prevented her death.”

As she broke eye contact to look down at her lap, I wanted to howl at the moon in frustration. “Don’t,” I demanded as I gave her a slight shake to get her attention. “Look at me, Bridgette! You are not to blame. I swear, I will find out who is doing this and put a stop to it. Do you hear me!”

She nodded her head slowly, but we both knew that my determination was less to do with finding a killer who had already taken the lives of three innocent witches and more to do with the fear that my mate was next on the list.

Bridgette collapsed in my arms with a sob, and I held her close. I whispered promises into her hair until she pulled away and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “You need to go,” she whispered. “Tomorrow we’ll go over all the pictures and figure out what we have been missing. I know there’s something there that I haven’t caught yet.”

“Okay, little witch,” I said gently. “Try to get some more sleep. We will talk about the case in the morning.” I kissed her forehead and helped her lie back down. She reached for my pillow and hugged it to her chest, and let out a heavy sigh.

“Stay safe, Logan.”

I walked over to the dresser where my clothing was stored and pulled out a pair of jeans and a long sleeved Henley to wear under my leather jacket. It was going to be a cold ride in the middle of the night on my bike.

I took one last look at Bridgette, who looked small and alone in the bed we had been sharing for over a week, and my heart ached to climb back in and hold her close. With a sigh, I turned away and carried my clothes down the stairs to get dressed in the dark. I had a murder scene to get to. The sooner I solved the case, the sooner my mate would be safe.

I was at the Donaldson residence in less time than it should have taken me. As I was walking up the path to the front door, I saw headlights and turned to look. Mac’s familiar black SUVpulled to the curb next to my motorcycle and cut the engine before opening the door to step out. His expression was as grim as I felt.

“Hey,” he called, already popping a piece of gum into his mouth. “Mind telling me how you knew to check on our victim?” He stepped up beside me and clapped me on the shoulder. “How’s Bridgette?”

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