4
The older style cell phone shook a little in my hand. I’d found if I held it just right it didn’t crap out on me too often. Pinching the phone between thumb and forefinger, I squeezed until the power bar came on. Milly’s number was normally embedded in my brain, but this time I had to look it up.
Millicent, Milly to her friends, was my closest friend and the other girl Giselle raised. The term raised gives the impression that we were little when she took us on. I was sixteen and Milly was a year younger. Both orphaned in our own ways, me twice, if you want to get picky, both of us needing a mentor for the innate abilities that were becoming apparent.
“Hello?” Her soft voice was raspy and it was obvious I’d pulled her from sleep.
“Hey, witch. Get out of bed. We’ve got a bit of a problem.” I switched ears with the phone and turned the heat up with my now free hand. I could still feel the wind from Giselle’s house in my bones.
She groaned. “Listen, I’ve barely been in bed for two hours. You know I don’t run on the same schedule as most people.”
I nodded and said, “I know, I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. It’s Giselle. We need to get her out of that house. I have some money from this next case, but it won’t be enough for a care home.”
She gave a sharp gasp, and I heard the bed creak in the background, then a soft exclamation that wasn’t Milly. I smiled. She was always having “sleepovers.” That was something I didn’t have the time for, or the inclination—at least right now. Matters of the heart were just too messy, in my opinion. I thought again about what Giselle said, about a man coming into my life. No, this was not the time for that kind of crap.
Footsteps and a door closing told me we had a little more privacy. “What’s wrong?”
“We have to move her. I don’t know how, but that house is falling down around her ears. And the madness has moved quickly in the last few months. I don’t think she’ll survive the winter on her own. She’s lost a lot of weight.” I paused and scanned the streets. “Hang on a minute, I think I’m lost.”
I took a left turn and navigated through a sub-division. Bismarck wasn’t a huge town, but it was expanding, and when all the houses were cookie cutter look a-likes, it was easy to get turned around.
Slowing for a stop sign, I continued. “I’m on a salvage right now.” That was my word for going after kids, just in case we had anyone listening in. “I don’t know how long it will be, at least a week maybe. If you can start to get Giselle out, I’ll help you when I get back.”
Silence on the other end of the line. “Milly? Are you still there?”
“Rylee, meet me at the coffee shop, the one on East Ave. I’ve got . . . news.”
My phone took that moment to blink off, and no matter how I smashed and squeezed it I couldn’t get it to flick back on.
“Damn!” I spun the wheel and did a tight u-turn. The coffee shop, “Bean done Right,” was about five minutes away. Another detour, but for Milly I would take it.
The parking lot was empty; in between breakfast and lunch the coffee shop slowed right down. Milly stood outside, arms wrapped around her upper body, dark brown hair pulled into a high ponytail. I waved and hopped out of the Jeep.
“Hey. What’s going on?” I didn’t ask her how she was; it was obvious. Upset, scared, uncertain. Which for Milly was odd. She was the one who was organized, always knew how to lay out a difficult salvage; rarely did her emotions get the better of her. Except the horny ones, that is.
“I can’t help her, Rylee.” Her green eyes flicked away from mine. “I can’t be here for long, but I had to tell you in person.”
Shock filtered through me. This wasn’t like Milly, not at all. What the hell was going on? I didn’t get a chance to ask before she rushed on and answered my unspoken question.
“The Coven wants me to break ties with all people who aren’t witches. That includes you and Giselle. This is what I’ve always wanted. I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes were swollen, her lips trembled, and her slight frame shook. I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched as though I’d hit her.
“Do you mean like forever?” My voice came through on a whisper, my heart breaking at the thought of losing one more person in my life.
Her hiccupping sobs were all the answer I needed. I looked away from her, stared into the coffee shop, with the empty seats and the cashier staring out at me.
“What about the salvages? Can you walk away from them?” What I was really asking, what we both knew I meant was, could she walk away from kids who’d been like us: alone, searching for a home, for a safe haven, broken souls who would need mending.
She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t have” —she hiccupped another sob— “both. I can’t have the Coven and . . . you and Giselle. This is hard for me. They offered me this spot a month ago.”
That would explain her absence lately.
I would beg if I had to. On this case, more than any other, I needed her and I would fight to keep her as my friend. “This girl was taken from Dearborn Park. Just like Berget, even the same day as her. Milly, please.” I stepped closer to her. Again she flinched. “Please help me this one last time.”
Tears tracked down her face and her eyes lifted to meet mine, only to drop again. Shoulders slumped, and she continued to cry. “I’m . . .sorry. I know how hard it is for you to face this . . . now. But–” She twitched as I stepped closer.
That was enough of that. If she was going to be afraid of me, then I’d give her a reason. I grabbed her arms and shook her. “You took an oath, the same as I did, to find these missing kids. You promised, you selfish bitch!” I bit the words, anger making me mean.
“You’re hurting me,” she said, but didn’t try to pull away.
“Good, that makes two of us.” Still, I dropped my hands and backed up, shaking my head. A slow deep breath calmed my racing heart. “They shouldn’t try to take you away, that isn’t right.”
“It’s how they do things,” she said, rubbing her arms. “I’ve got to go. They can’t know that I’ve seen you.”
Milly turned her back and walked away from me, pausing at the edge of the building. “Goodbye, Rylee.” The tears in her voice did me in.
“You can always come home, Milly. No matter what, you know that right? I’ll always look out for you.” It was the best I could do. My own emotions were choking me. I didn’t want to be left behind again.
Her words hitched into sobs. I couldn’t be truly angry with her. We both had wanted only one thing growing up: to fit in. And now she had a chance, and I couldn’t begrudge her that, no matter how much it hurt. Swallowing the pain back, I slipped into the Jeep. “You’ll always be my witch, Milly.” I pulled the door closed, shutting out the wind and my best friend. Only then did I let the tears fall and allow myself to feel the pain of being abandoned once again.