Page 96 of Sweetwater and the Witch

“I don’t know,” he said. “No, I do know, but it’s not a real memory. It’s the memory of a dream, a nightmare. I would never have done what the woman told me I must do. I wouldn’t have hurt Ravenna.”

Ethan went very still. He looked at Zora. She understood.

“What did the consultant tell you to do?” she asked quietly.

“She said I must kill Ravenna Chastain. She told me I had been stalking Ravenna. Said I’d left items related to fire on Ravenna’s doorstep. She explained exactly how to do it. When. Why.”

“Why were you supposed to murder Ravenna?” Zora asked.

“Because she was a witch who intended to destroy my casino.”

“Wake up, Garrett,” Zora said quietly.

He snapped out of the trance, shaken. “Shit. What happened to me? What did I do?”

“It’s all right,” Zora said. “You were hypnotized, but you didn’t hurt anyone.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Zora said. “Do you remember going to Ravenna’s house?”

“Yes.” Garrett frowned. “I took a cab to the edge of the Dark Zone and walked to Midnight Court. I... had a mag-rez. It’s a nightmare. It didn’t happen. It’s not possible. I like Ravenna. She listened to me talk about my plans for the Lucky Quartz for hours.”

“Can you describe the woman who told you that you should kill Ravenna?” Zora asked.

“The consultant,” Garrett said. “Attractive, but very focused. I mean scary focused. There was some bad energy around her, I can tell you that.”

Ethan held up his phone to show Garrett the image on the screen. “Is this her?”

Garrett peered at the picture. “That’s her, all right. She was wearinga gas mask when she walked into the room, but after a while she removed it. Weird eyes, even in a photograph. Who is she?”

Ethan thought about the notes he had found on Ravenna’s desk. “Her name is Louise Lace. She thinks she’s a real witch, and she’s out to get rid of her rival.”

Chapter Fifty

Ravenna opened her eyes to the familiar glow of a green quartz chamber and strong currents of energy. She was in the Underworld.

The feel of unyielding stone under her back told her she was lying on the floor. Groggy and shaky, she turned onto her side and managed to lever herself up to a sitting position. She took a few deep breaths to calm her rattled senses and queasy stomach. She was in a mag-steel cage, the same kind of cage that Fitch the witch hunter had used to imprison her the first time.

There was no sign of Harriet. The memory of her small body lying unconscious in the hallway of the cottage brought a rush of anguish.

Cautiously she tried to rez her paranormal senses. There was no response. Panic threatened to choke her. The poison gas had flatlined her talent. There was no way to know if the effects were temporary or permanent.

She checked for her rez-amber without much hope and was not surprised to discover the bracelet and ankle chain were gone. Not that they would have done her any good as long as she was locked in a cage.

Consciously and subconsciously she had always relied on her talent for manipulating fire. It might be a problematic talent when it came to finding a husband, but it had served her well as a means of self-defense. She had, however, learned a few things during her time with the Bureau, one of which was that there were a lot of items that could be used to defend oneself against an assailant.

She made herself conduct a detailed head-to-toe inventory. Sweatshirt, sweatpants, sneakers.

Ethan’s pen.It was still in one of the deep pockets of her sweatpants.

Whoever had stripped her amber had missed the pen. That made sense. It was made of mirror amber, not rez-amber—attractive, but only for decorative purposes. It wouldn’t have caused a nav amber sensor to ping.

Just a very pretty pen, but one that had been tuned by a very good engineer to serve as a rez-Valentine gift. If she sent the signal, Ethan might pick it up when he came down into the Underworld to look for her. And he would come down sooner or later, because this was Ethan.

The fog of poison gas had flatlined her two strong talents, but it didn’t take a lot of psychic power to activate a resonating Valentine. All it required was an act of will. Anyone with an aura could focus that much energy.

She closed her eyes, gripped the pen very tightly, depressed the small sunset-red mirror jewel on the pen cap, and concentrated.My heart resonates with yours. I love you.

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