Kelley Armstrong - Waking the Witch

A faint whisper. “Savannah ...”

My head jerked up, eyes flying open.

“Mom?”

I struggled to focus. My eyes burned. My legs ached holding me up. The building seemed to sway.

“Savannah ...”

A shape appeared, so faint I could see only an outline with a weird blue glow dangling at its side. But I knew it was her. I knew.

“I heard you were looking for someone.” I waved at Leah. “I got her for you, Mom.”

I struggled to smile. The room flickered, like the lights were about to go out. Beside me, Leah’s eyes blazed and it took everything I had to hold the binding spell as she fought to get free, to tell my mom about the poison, to make the deal.

“Don’t listen to anything she says, Mom,” I said, my voice hoarse, every word a struggle. “She’s going to lie and tell you I’m in trouble. I’m okay. Adam’s here. He’ll get me help. We figured everything out and foiled her plan. So don’t listen to anything she says. Just take her away.”

The figure moved toward me. I called on every ounce of strength I had to stand tall, not to let her see how sick I was. She leaned toward me, embracing me, and I felt it. I swore I felt it.

“So proud of you,” she whispered.

“Take her,” I said. “My spells aren’t working so good—something she gave me. But I’m fine. Just take her before the binding breaks. And whatever she says, don’t listen.”

My mother moved away then, and that weird blue glow rose. Leah’s eyes rolled. Absolute terror filled them and I drank that in, let it fill me. The glow sliced down like a blade, passing right through Jesse’s body, leaving no mark. A scream. A terrible scream. Then Jesse’s body fell over, Leah’s spirit gone.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I said again, barely above a whisper. “Don’t listen to anything she—”

I hit the floor and the world went dark.

“Savannah?” The voice was unrecognizable, choked with panic. Hands gripped my shoulders. “Come on, Savannah. Wake up. Just open your eyes. Please open your eyes.

I tried. I really tried. But the most I could do was flutter my eyelids enough to see Adam bent over me.

“That’s it. Just stay with me. Please stay with me.”

“Jesse...”

“He’s fine. He’s gone to call an ambulance.”

“I...”

“Don’t talk. Just stay with me, baby, okay? Stay with me.”

Everything went dark again.

I FELT LIKE I’d been dropped ten stories onto the subway tracks, electrocuted, then run over by a half-dozen trains. My muscles ached. My head pounded. Each breath took effort. I could hear the blip-blip of machines and smell the stink of overcooked lasagna, laced with antiseptic. Even with my eyes closed, the light scorched my eyeballs. Cold air blew over me, freezing everything except one hand, which was warm, cupped in someone’s. Fingers brushed hair from my forehead. Touched my cheek. Rested there a moment, then brushed the hair back again, lulling me to sleep.

When I woke again, someone was rubbing my shoulder, murmuring something I couldn’t make out.

With effort, I cracked open my eyes. It was Adam, pale under his tan, eyes bleary, hair standing up, like he’d been running his hands through it.

“You look like hell,” I whispered, throat aching with the strain.

He let out a shaky laugh, hand tightening on my shoulder.

“Not going to tell me I look worse?” I whispered.

“No.” He bent down, lips brushing my forehead. “You look great.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against a different ache. I wished he’d joked back. And I was glad he hadn’t.

“Guess Dr. Lee found an antidote, huh?” I said.

“He always had it. We just needed to know which poison it was. He figured it out from your symptoms and had it ready when we arrived. It was close, though. Too close.”

I craned my head to take in the room. I was in Dr. Lee’s clinic in Portland.

“Paige and Lucas aren’t here,” he said as he straightened. “I called a few times, but they must have been out for the day. They’re probably back by now. I’ll go call—”

I gripped his hand as he tried to walk away. “No.”

“They should know.”

I shook my head. “If Dr. Lee says I’ll be fine, then let them finish their vacation.”

His mouth tightened. “They should know, Savannah.”

“They will, when they get back.” I managed a smile. “If they get mad, blame me.”

Blame me.

I thought about Michael. About Claire. About that security guard. About the homeless guy.

“Savannah?” Adam leaned over me, face drawn with fresh worry.

“Just tired. Don’t call them, okay?” I tightened my grip on his hand. “Just stay.”

I DRIFTED OFF into nightmares. I was back on the scenic lookout with Michael. He was kissing me, telling me he wanted a third date, and over his shoulder, I could see Leah ready to push him over the cliff, and I tried to tell Michael to run, to get as far from me as he could, but he only laughed and kept kissing me.

The scene changed and I was in the sawmill with Adam, searching for Jesse. I told Adam to let me handle this, that it was my problem and he needed to get out, get away from me, but he just kept saying he’d protect me. Only he was the one who needed protecting ... from me.

I knew what happened wasn’t my fault, but I felt like it was, like I should have figured out something was up with Jesse.

Leah had chosen her target perfectly. Jesse was telekinetic, so she could use her powers and I’d never be the wiser. Lucas knew him and trusted him, which was an instant stamp of approval for me. And, in life, Leah had been a deputy sheriff, meaning she could pull off even the PI parts with ease. She’d found the perfect disguise and there was no reason I shouldn’t have fallen for it. No way I could have stopped her sooner. No way I could have saved Michael. But I couldn’t stop thinking it.

Every time I opened my eyes, though, Adam was there. Nothing I could say would make him leave my bedside. Finally, one of the nurses must have heard us arguing about that. She came in and said she had to work on me and he couldn’t be there. It’d be about an hour, so he should go get something to eat, and she’d have someone notify him when he could come back up.

I drifted off again as soon as Adam left. I couldn’t rest with him gone, though. I started dreaming that Leah was in my room, and I kept screaming at myself to wake up, but I couldn’t.

Rage boiled up inside me, impotent rage at Leah for everything she’d done. It roiled until it exploded and the room flashed against my eyelids. A cry of pain. A crash. Then the sound of running feet, a nurse saying “You can’t be here,” a voice protesting, not Leah’s, but a young woman’s, insisting she was a friend. The nurse hauled her out, and the dream slid away.

JESSE CAME BY, and we pieced together what had happened to him. He didn’t stay long. It was awkward, because I kept thinking of him as the guy I’d worked with, only he wasn’t. This was the first time I’d met the real Jesse Aanes. It felt weird talking to him now. But I was glad he was okay.

“I’M READY TO go,” I announced the next afternoon as I brushed my hair. Given how long my hair was—and that I’d been tossing and turning for almost twenty-four hours—the brushing was a major chore. I figured if I could accomplish that, I was ready for anything.

“When you can stay awake for more than an hour, we’ll consider it,” Adam said.

I swung my legs out of bed. “It’s been sixty-five minutes. Bring the Jeep around front—”

He grabbed my legs and pushed them back under the covers. “I was being sarcastic.”