Page 8 of The Devil You Know
“Are we being arrested? If so, on what charge?” Seth kept his voice neutral. “My lawyer will want to know.” He handed over the paperwork and gave a bland smile.
Evan knew the cop’s bluster was bogus. They were sitting in a legally parked truck with nothing to connect them to the observatory. He wondered who put the cop up to confronting them and whether Osborn had anything to do with it.
The cop—Nelson—glanced over the two items and handed them back, more proof to Evan’s mind that the whole effort was harassment since he didn’t have the dispatcher run the information.
“Are we free to go?” Seth’s smile turned brittle.
“Cleveland isn’t the place to stir up trouble,” Nelson warned. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
Seth pulled away from the curb and was careful to drive at the speed limit until Nelson and the observatory were out of view.
“Want to bet that whoever sicced the witches on us also called the police?” Seth asked when they had put some distance between them and the cop.
“I thought about that. For all his magic, Osborn must be nervous if he’s making an effort to get rid of us before we even make a move,” Evan replied.
“Notice anything about the cop?”
Evan shook his head. “Besides being an asshole? Not really.”
“The name tag readD. Nelson. Want to bet that was Derek Nelson—next in line to be Osborn’s victim?”
“Shit. Pretty ironic if he gets sacrificed because we’re cooling our heels in jail after he arrested us,” Evan replied.
“Let’s hope not.”
Evan looked to Seth. “Seriously—how do we save the guy if he’s already convinced we’re out-of-town ruffians?”
Seth shrugged. “I’ve got no friggin’ clue. We’ve never had the witch disciple be this far ahead of us before. I get the feeling we’re going to have to be quick, or we’ll end up facing a lot more cops and witches—and it won’t go well.”
Evan stared out the windshield for a while as they drove back to the fifth-wheeler. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Before I met you, I knew our family had a ‘run of bad luck’ with men in each generation dying too young. Sometimes they disappeared. In other cases, the mangled bodies got blamed on different causes. Car accident. Farm machinery mishap. Factory tragedy. I could accept that we were ‘unlucky,’ but the idea that magic was involved? Too much to believe,” Evan said ruefully. “Maybe Nelson’s the same way.”
“Except you knew you needed help to stay safe,” Seth pointed out. “Nelson’s a cop, from a family of cops if our intel is right. I have a feeling that he’s not going to want to admit that he needs anyone, even if he’s in over his head.”
“If Nelson—or his anonymous informant—convinced the police that we’re troublemakers, it could get hard to maneuver,” Evan warned.
“Short of just walking up to Osborn and blowing him away, stopping the ritual takes time,” Seth remarked as he set out plates and utensils while Evan filled water glasses.
“I can’t imagine that would go well, no matter how stealthy you tried to be about it,” Evan said drolly.
“No kidding. But the issue is catching Osborn when he’s got his intended victim, and he’s started the ritual.” Seth pointed out. “Technically, Nelson should be safe for a couple more years. We screwed up everything by taking the disciples on faster than the cycle.”
“Jumping the gun has worked so far,” Evan replied. “If he’s so nervous about us being in town, maybe Osborn isn’t as powerful as we thought. With nearly half the disciples dead and the rituals happening more often, Gremory’s power boost isn’t doing as much for him or lasting as long.”
“I hadn’t thought about that—but you’re right. Losing the other witch disciples and their rituals—and doing the sacrifices with less than a year between them weakened Gremory, so he can’t supply the same recharge. It’s more dangerous too, because the regular sacrifices aren’t going to be enough to keep Gremory contained—and if he gets free, there’ll be hell to pay,” Seth said.
“We don’t have to test that theory,” Evan cautioned. “Osborn might still be plenty powerful without getting a signal boost from the other witches. If you recall, we’ve nearly died a few times.”
“I try not to think about that.”
Usually when they first rolled into a town looking for a witch disciple, Seth and Evan would make a point of eating at a different “local’s joint” each night to pick up interesting gossip. But after the run-in with Nelson, they stopped for take-out from a local diner and brought it back to the RV, figuring it was best to keep a low profile.
Evan had ordered chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and green beans, while Seth got a burger and fries. Since the diner had a tall case of tempting desserts next to the register, Seth added a piece of cherry pie for himself and a slice of chocolate cake for Evan.
When every meal might be your last, Evan found it difficult to order a salad. Training and then running for his life tended to provide plenty of exercise.
After dinner, Seth poured them each a couple of fingers of whiskey, enough to take the edge off.
