Blood Witch_ Book Three - Cate Tiernan [45]
I blinked, my breathing ragged.
The sound of a phone still filled my ears. What was going on? Several seconds passed before I realized that it was our phone, not a phone in my vision. The images were all gone now. I was alone in our house again—and somebody was calling.
15
Presence
“Hello?” I said into the receiver. I realized that I had no sense of who it was, even though I usually did before I picked up the phone.
Silence.
“Hello?” I said again.
Click. Drone of dial tone.
Okay, I knew, of course, that people get wrong numbers all the time. But for some reason, maybe because I was still caught up in images, emotions, and sensations from the fire, this silent phone call unnerved me. Every spooky movie I had ever seen came back to haunt me: Scream, Halloween, The Exorcist, Fatal Attraction, Blair Witch. My only thought was: Someone was checking to see if I was home. And I was. Alone.
I punched in star sixty-nine. Nothing happened. Finally a computerized female voice told me that the number I was trying to reach was blocked.
Feeling tense, I slammed the phone down on the hook. Then I began to race around the house, locking the front and back doors, the basement door, locking windows that had never been locked in my memory. Was I being stupid? It didn’t matter. Better stupid and safe than smart and dead. I turned on all the outside lights instead of just the dim yellow glow of the front porch fixture.
I didn’t know why I felt so afraid, but my first sense of alarm was rapidly growing into pure terror. So I retrieved my trusty baseball bat from the mudroom, locked that door, scooped up Dagda, and scampered upstairs to my room, glancing over my shoulder. Maybe it was still the aftermath of the accident, but my hands were clammy. My breath came quickly. I locked my bedroom door, then locked the door that led from the bathroom to Mary K.’s room.
I sat down on my bed, clenching and unclenching my fists. Cal, was all I could think. Cal, help me. I need you. Come to me.
I sent the witch message out into the night. Cal would get it. Cal would save me.
But the minutes ticked by, and he didn’t come. He didn’t even call to say he was on his way. I thought about calling him, but then I remembered what he’d said about not answering the phone during the circle.
Didn’t he get my message? I wondered frantically. Where is he?
I tried to calm myself down. Mom and Dad would be home soon. So would Mary K. Anyway, it was just a phone call. A wrong number. Maybe it was Bree calling to apologize, and she’d lost her nerve.
But why would Bree’s number have been blocked? It could have been anyone, though: a prank call by some pimply sixth grader whose mom caught him just before he spoke. Or maybe it was a telemarketer. . . .
Calm down, calm down, I ordered myself. Breathe.
A faint prickling at the edge of my senses made me sit up straight. I cast out my senses, searching as hard as I could. Then I knew what it was. Someone was on the edge of the property. Fear oozed through me like burning lava.
“Wait here,” I whispered idiotically to Dagda.
I crept soundlessly to my darkened window and peered out into the yard. As I looked out, the outside lights all blinked off. Shit. Who had gotten to them?
I could make out the leaves of the shrubs, the swooping shadow of an owl, the crusts of ice hanging on our fence.
That was when I saw them: two dark figures.
I squinted, using my magesight to make out their features, but for some reason I couldn’t focus on their faces. It didn’t matter, though. For a moment the night’s cloud cover broke and allowed the not quite half-moon to appear. The glint of moonlight reflected off pale, shining hair, and I knew who was here. Sky Eventide. The person with her wore a dark knit cap and was too tall to be either Bree or Raven. Hunter. I felt sure it was Hunter.
Where was Cal?