Chapter 15

I awoke with a jolt, heart in my throat. Another dream about Lydia. She was in danger, I could've saved her, but when I grabbed her to pull her away from her attacker, I realized she was a corpse, long dead. I turned her over and she had transformed into Rosa, her skin painted bright with arterial blood.

I yawned, rolled over in my enormous hotel bed and took in the view. It was night time. We were on one of the upper floors of the Virgin hotel and the view of Dallas was spectacular.

The fading twilight of the vista reminded me of a painting I'd seen once when I first arrived in New Orleans back when was still nannying for Amelia. Felix had fallen asleep in the stroller, and I'd wandered into a small gallery in the French Quarter that was showing a collection of southwest landscape paintings. It featured lots of sunsets. It looked just like this.

My sleepy thoughts were broken up by the sound of Amelia's chatter and Eric's laughter. With a sober jolt, I remembered where I was, who I was with, and why I was here. I sighed and threw back the covers. Some realities couldn't be escaped.

After leaving the scene of Rosa's murder, Amelia and I had spent the early afternoon with Ryker downtown at the police department meeting with the detectives working the case. While they were forthcoming, there wasn't exactly much information they could offer us that we didn't already know. Forensic evidence had been collected, but it was being processed and that took time.

Police were in the process of following leads trying to track down Veronica—the witches had been so far successful hiding her from the weres and the local authorities. "Life isn't like an episode of CSI," the detective had said. "It can take months for the lab to come back with results. It ultimately relies on old-fashioned police work while we wait on results."

Left to our own devices, Amelia and I ate a late lunch at North Park Center shopping mall, where we found outfits for us to wear that night at the ritual—which, as it turned out, wasn't starting until midnight. A late-afternoon nap seemed prudent.

"Good nap?" Amelia asked, when I entered the living area.

"Fine," I said on a yawn and sat down beside her on the couch.

"We were just reminiscing about the time Pam pranked Eric with the perfume on his office chair."

It took a moment, but the memory came back to me. There was one perfume Pam used to wear that Eric absolutely hated, so she hooked it up to go off like a stink bomb when sat down in his office chair at Fangtasia.

"I'd forgotten all about that," I said. That little incident had made his office stink for a few weeks. "Did you ever do anything to get her back?"

Eric, who lounged across the couch opposite ours in blue jeans and a t-shirt, smiled in a very satisfied way. "You don't remember? I had her gardener plant a violet in every one of her heels. To be fair, it was a lot less mean-spirited than her little trick. Violets are her favorite flower. Though, she did have her shoes sent away for specialty cleaning and detailing."

"Like a car!" Amelia crowed and cracked up laughing. I offered a wan smile. I wasn't really in the mood to reminisce.

"What's on the agenda for tonight, then? Have you filled Eric in on our day?" I asked.

"I'd thought I'd wait for you," Amelia said. Between us both, we told Eric about the events of the morning.

"Well, that could solve one problem," Eric said.

"And what's that?"

"If everyone's in mask tonight, how will we know who the witch is? I have a sharp nose, if she smells like fenugreek, I'll be able to find her."

"Which witch is which?"

"Right."

"And what if she doesn't smell? We still need to talk to her," I said.

"One of the witches alluded this morning Veronica has been chosen to play the part of Lacharuza," Amelia said. "She'll be easy to spot."

"Why's that?" Eric asked.

"She'll be the only one dressed in white. With a big ol' owl mask," Amelia said.

"If she does smell like fenugreek, then we know she for sure she took the potion," I said. "And that will more-or-less confirm it was her that stabbed Rosa. But it still doesn't explain how she was on the other side of the city at the exact time of the murder getting booked for a for a traffic violation," I said.

I got up and walked over to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water and grabbed a banana from the complimentary fruit bowl and sat back down.

"Is there a way she could've been in two places at once?" Eric asked. "In terms of her magical ability?"

"You said she was powerful, right?" I said to Amelia. Maybe this was the answer. We hadn't considered a magical element to Lydia's murder. At least not in this way.

"Yes, theoretically…" Amelia said slowly, drawing out the word as I felt her mind begin to rush through the possibilities. "I've heard of magic where a person can create a facsimile or doppelganger of themselves, but it's high order magic and damned hard to do."

"So, the type of magic that one of the most powerful witches in southern Texas might be able to do?" I asked.

"Maybe," Amelia said, nodding. "Maybe."

"Ladies," Eric said, sitting up and rubbing his hands together in a satisfied way. "It looks to me like we have our first working theory."

"Just call us the Scooby Gang," I said. Even if this theory was true, how on earth would it explain Lydia's death and Lloyd's ability to be in two places at once? He wasn't a witch.

"Here," Amelia said and deposited the hummingbird neck back into my hand. "All finished."

"That was quick," I said. While the magic imbued in the necklace offered me a respite from the minds of others, it needed to be replenished fairly often to keep it operational. I'd only given her the necklace to top up that afternoon when we got back. The last time I'd left it with her for a day or so before getting it back.

"What's that?" Eric asked, nosy as ever.

"Nothing," I said, or at least tried to say before Amelia rudely talked over the top of me.

"The necklace stops Sookie from hearing the thoughts of others when she's wearing it."

Eric brows lifted, and I could just see the cogs turning in his crafty mind. "Well. That explains some things."

I felt my cheeked redden and I stood up, tucking the necklace into the pocket of my jeans. "I'm think going to go take a shower and start getting ready."

"We don't leave for, like, four hours, Sookie!" said Amelia, oblivious to the fact I was peeved.

"I need to finish waking up," I said and narrowed my eyes at her, so she knew exactly how I felt. "Maybe you can order something for our dinner. Plus a can of diet coke for me."

I returned from getting ready sometime later, dressed in a dark purple halter dress with satin and sequin detail at the bust and paired it with black ankle boots. I didn't need to bother much with hair and makeup since I was going to be in a mask all night, so I only blow dried my hair and in waves around my shoulders.

Mushroom and prosciutto pizza and a garden salad awaited me on the dining table.

"Sorry," Amelia whispered, fixing me a plate. "I just didn't think."

"That's your problem, isn't it?" I hissed, taking the plate from her hands when she offered it. "I don't need everyone to know my business."

Everyone? she thought at me, or just Eric?

I ignored her and took my plate down to the couch where I could admire the view while I ate. God knew, I loved Amelia, but she loved sticking her nose where it wasn't welcome. I sighed and picked at my salad.

"I brought this," Eric said, emerging from his bedroom. He waved a copy of the season one DVD of X-Files. Knowing him, he probably pilfered it from the collection of DVDs at my home.

"Of course, you did," I said. "Go on then, put it on."

The three of us watched two episodes and were part-way through a third when my cell rang. It was Ryker. I put the phone on speaker.

"Be ready in an hour. I've had my team scope the perimeter of the property, so we'll park to the east near the highway and get you to walk in from there. Do you have everything you need, Miss Broadway?"

"Yes, sir," Amelia replied.

"You won't be joining us?" I asked Ryker. The thought of us heading in alone to the ritual set me on edge.

"No," he said. "I've been informed there are a number of were-witches attending. I can't risk being recognized."

I looked across at Amelia, puzzled. How would Ryker be recognized if we were all in masks? She pointed to her nose. After I hung up, Eric explained that given Ryker's elevated station as leader of all weres, any two-natured individual would recognize him by scent alone. Something about pheromones and nature of how weres established dominance. Ick. Glad I hadn't asked Ryker myself.

Eric retired to his room to get ready while I tidied up and Amelia went to shower. It was going to be a warm night, the weather channel predicted somewhere around 78 degrees. I didn't bother with wearing an additional layer. I just hoped it wasn't muddy if we had to trudge through the forest to get to this house. It was on the outskirts of Dallas on the edge of farmland. At least my boots didn't have much of a heel. But they were new… I didn't want to muddy them. Well, if they got too wrecked, I thought with a snicker, I could ask Pam for recommendations on shoe cleaning.

From behind me, I heard Eric clear his throat.

"How do I look?" he asked. He struck a dramatic pose with one hip cocked to the side, hands planted on hips, and his gaze set to smoldering. He looked like Conan the Barbarian crossed with… well, Eric Northman.

He wore black combat boots, paired with extremely tight black leather pants that truly left nothing to the imagination. I bet if the light shone just the right way on his pants, it would reveal the silhouette of damn near everything. For his upper half, he'd opted to go topless with a large metal pentagram pendant strung on a red leather cord around his neck.

He grinned at my stunned silence. "That good?"

"People will spot you're a vampire from a mile away!" I said. "You're pale as a ghost."

"Ah… That's where you come in."

"What does that mean?"

From his back pocket, Eric retrieved a powder brush and large, round compact.

"Makeup?" I asked.

"Bronzer."

I narrowed my eyes at him and he simply grinned. With a muttered curse under my breath, I got up and snatched the items from him. I knew a losing battle when I saw one.

"You're real happy, aren't you?" I grumbled as I began brush the brown, sparkly bronzer across his arm.

"Yes. I am," he said in a very self-satisfied way.

"You better pray for no rain."

He chuckled.

I forced away my misgivings and focused on my task. I did one arm and then the other, then his back and neck, all the while Eric cracked off-color jokes. My face burned hot as the sun as I brushed makeup on his chest and abdomen. Could you blame me? My eyes were level with his finely formed pecs the entire time. On a good day it was hard to forget what a perfect specimen Eric was, let alone when he was in such close proximity to me with his muscles staring me right in the face. Eric fell quiet as I finished my task.

"There you go," I said and held out the brush and compact for him to take. "I think you can finish your face in the mirror yourself." The rest of him was sufficiently tanned and shimmery now. No one would mistake him for a vampire. Unless they talked to him, maybe.

"Thank you." When I met his gaze, my breath caught at what I saw there. He took the items from my hands, fingers lingering on mine. My room shrunk around us. My mind stalled. I tried to think of something to say, something to diffuse the tension, but I couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"Y'all ready?" Amelia asked. "Oh my God, Eric! That outfit! It's fantastic."

I quickly stepped back from Eric and I knew Amelia immediately clocked that something had passed between the two of us. Something that had started as a joke and suddenly wasn't.

"Looks like he's ready for a wild and crazy orgy, doesn't he Sook?" she said, forcing the levity into her voice. Eric, thankfully cut the tension by laughing, and before I knew it, I was giggling too.

"Hey! What's so funny?"

•───── ─────•

I was sweltering under the ridiculous rabbit mask. It didn't look at all like I imagined it would. Where on Earth Amelia had managed to procure our stupid masks from? Mine was a rabbit, with black life-like fur and long pointed ears and sharp teeth. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Or an X-files episode. Eric wore a mask fashioned from the skull of a ram, replete with curling black horns and colored beads hanging from them. Amelia, of course, wore the cutest mask. A fox with cute little ears and a button nose. It was lifelike and snarling, however.

It didn't matter anyway, we weren't attending for fun. We needed to find Veronica, determine if she'd actually murdered Rosa and shake her down for any other information we could glean–and then get out with our butts intact.

The grounds were so heavily warded, that it was not until we crossed them that we felt the rumble of the drums and bass of the distant music and smelled the sweet cloying smoke from the giant bonfire in the distance and the tiki torches dotted around the field. Before crossing the wards, we saw, smelled and heard nothing.

"Are you okay?" I asked Eric. The second we crossed the wards, he squatted over by some shrubbery with his head between his legs.

"I think I feel... nauseous?" he'd said or at least that's what it sounded like. His mask muffled his voice. Crossing the wards had been rough. Amelia had chanted the whole way and waved smudge sticks around. It was like walking against tidal waters except it's pull was both physical and metaphysical. There was an audible pop once we made it through.

"Oh, get over it," I said and pulled him up by the arm. "It's the first time you've needed to barf in a millennium, and it'll be the last."

"Exactly," said Amelia. "I vomited daily right up until I gave birth to Felix. You didn't hear me make a big deal of it." Not exactly true, she'd complained profusely the whole time, but in the name of female solidarity I said nothing.

We followed her toward the ritual and the closer we got the more I realized that it was less a ritual and more a celebration. Scratch that, it was a big honking party. The field was filled with hundreds of witches, some dressed, some nude, most somewhere in between; all with a variety of amazing animal mask. Eric did fit right in.

Amelia linked arms with me as we joined the group of party goers. Don't drink anything anyone offers you, she thought to me, everything is spiked with hallucinogens. And maybe avoid getting too close to those tiki torches.

I sniffed the air cautiously and realized the sweet cloying smoke surrounding us was in fact the scent of marijuana burning.

"A heads up would've been nice!" I said in a harsh whisper. She shrugged, and we shouldered our way through the crowd.

Keep your phone on you. And with that final thought, she let go and disappeared into the crowd. I looked across to Eric, who was scanning the crowd from his higher vantage.

"See anything?" I asked. He shook his head slightly. At least with his vampire hearing I wouldn't have to yell over the sounds of the music and crowd to get him to hear me.

Before we could plan a method of working through the crowd, a tall, redhead in a flowy dress that matched her tresses skipped over and took Eric's hand and pulled him close for a seductive, touchy-feely dance, which Eric very much slipped into the spirit of. I pulled a face. This entire thing was very, very pagan.

Alright then, I thought, I guess we split up and cover as much of the crowd as possible. I left Eric and his new dancing friend and moved closer to the music which was emanating from a large speaker system set up behind the bonfire. I'd half expected a live band, maybe with naked bongo players or something, but instead there was a DJ in a wolf mask behind a mixing desk. She was playing a slow, droning song that featured a singer with a throaty croon.

"Sister!" A man in an eagle mask and a fringed tan leather vest appeared before me. He pressed a cup into my hand. "May your chalice be full on this blessed night!"

"Blessed be," I managed to say. I was intensely thankful I had my mask to hide my alarm behind. He whirled away, and I cautiously sniffed the concoction. It was sweet and earthy. I dumped it at the first opportunity.

I moved through the crowd, past the revelers and dancers, past the groups of witches chanting with their hands held, past an enormous oak long table set out with an abundant variety of fruits and nuts and spit-roasted meats. I moved deep into the crowd, periodically standing on tiptoes searching for the distinctive white gown and mask that Amelia had described. The field was thick with smoke and my head began to swim. I thought I saw Amelia dancing in the crowd but when I moved toward her, she disappeared again.

The colors of the enormous bonfire began to throb and halo in my vision; it felt a little like when I'd filled in as Shaman for the Longtooth pack in Shreveport. I need to get some fresh air. I pushed my way through, despite being pulled into a dance with a group of sweaty people. Escaping them felt a little like navigating through a nest of slippery eels.

I got to the edge of the crowd and under the shadows of a tall myrtle, I pushed my mask up, drawing in a breath of clean air. The thrum of the bassy music reverberated through my chest, and I focused on taking some deep breaths. It was impossible to see if Veronica was in the crowd, there was too much smoke, too many people. I lowered my shields a little and tried to travel through the maze-like myriad of inebriated minds.

Everyone was so out of it and lost in their hedonism that they didn't seem to notice a telepath scouring their thoughts. They were all too involved in the moment to even be thinking about Veronica.

My gaze traveled past the crowd to a farmhouse situated at the far edge of a paddock beyond the field. There was a line of tiki torches marking a path leading up to the house. This must be the main dwelling for the property. I made my way toward the house and walking down the path between the smoking tiki torches. I stumbled onto my knees as I miscalculated a dip in the path and burst into a fit of giggles. Great, now I was pretty sure I was high!

I brushed myself off and made my way up onto the farmhouse porch. There was only a single occupant inside. I tried to gently broach the person's thoughts and then thought better of it. Powerful witches were perceptive to that, from my experience. I entered the house quietly, my mood sobering. It was a regular old home, which somewhat surprised me. I half expected to see some sort of pagan-like magical den filled with pentacles and crystals and burning incense. I moved past the kitchen, still showing evidence of having prepared the grand feast laid out outside and took the stairs two at a time. I moved down a darkened hall toward a bedroom door was partially open, a lamp on inside.

Veronica, in a silken white gown, lay curled on the bed crying. I wasn't sure if it was her, or my inebriated state, but I could've sworn she was surrounded in a pale blue aura.

Found her, I texted to Eric. I'm in the farmhouse. Bring Amelia.

The door opened with a soft creak as I entered, though Veronica didn't seem to notice.

"Hi there," I said, "are you okay?"

Veronica pushed herself up to her elbow and quickly wiped at her mascara-streaked face. In the softly lit room, her white dress contrasted brightly against her dark skin. An enormous white owl mask sat on the nightstand beside her. It was unnervingly life-like, its beady eyes trained on me.

"What are you doing here? You should be back at the party."

"I came to use the bathroom," I said. I lifted my mask and smiled, in a way I hoped was kindly, but apparently my physical capabilities were also running sluggishly as my mental ones. My face didn't feel like it was cooperating in the way I wanted it to, and my speech sounded slurred. Veronica on the other hand appeared completely sober.

"There are porta-pottys at the southern end of the field," she said.

"Why are you crying?" I asked. "Do you not want to be here?"

Before she had a chance to respond, Amelia and Eric were standing behind me, their masks pushed up above their foreheads. Eric must have carried Amelia at vampire speed to reach us in the minute since I'd messaged him. I hoped they weren't spotted.

Veronica now regarded us all with outright suspicion. "Who are you all? Out of towners?"

"I'm Amelia Broadway." Amelia stepped out from behind me and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Veronica. "I'm from New Orleans."

Veronica sat up properly and accepted the tissue Amelia had passed her from the box on the nightstand. "I know you. You own that fancy consulting place down there, right?"

"Right."

"And your husband used to run the Genuine Magic Shop?"

"Ex-husband," Amelia said, her mouth turning down at the corners. Veronica blew her nose.

"I heard about your girlfriend," Amelia said gently, and Veronica seemed like she might dissolve into another bout of tears. I felt Eric's hand at my lower back, and he eased me into the room, closing the door with a soft click behind us.

Amelia handed Veronica a clean tissue and took the soiled one from her hand, smoothly passing it behind her to Eric's waiting one. He brought it to his nose and breathed in. I waited for a response, but he gave nothing away.

"She died last week," Veronica said, and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as if to contain a rising sob. "I don't... I don't understand it. She was here one day and the next she's gone. How is that possible? How can she not exist?" She looked from Amelia to me and then to Eric as if we could offer her an answer that made sense.

But I knew exactly the feeling she described. Denial. I'd felt it so deeply, so keenly, with Gran's passing.

"It's like you expect they'll walk in the door at any moment. Or that they'll phone you and tell you about their day, and it's like nothing even happened," I said.

"Exactly," Veronica said. "And I keep trying to contact her on the other side. But she's not responding. I've tried everything. Summoning rituals. I've left offerings to the goddess Morrigan. Seances. It's like she doesn't want to reach out to me."

"She thinks you're responsible for her death," Eric said. I wanted to step down on his toes. Hard. The last thing I wanted to do was make a powerful witch, who was already upset, mad at us.

"I'm not," she said with conviction.

"No, you're not," Eric said. Well, that answered that. She mustn't smell of fenugreek.

"Who are you two?" Veronica asked. I prayed that in the soft lamplight, Eric's fake bronzer tan didn't stand out too badly.

"They're with me," Amelia said.

"Are you even witches?" she asked.

"Sookie was born with natural powers," Amelia said, safely sidestepping the question. "She assisted me with an ectoplasmic reconstruction this morning at the back of Old Murphy's."

"And what did you see?" Her hands fisted the quilted bedspread she sat upon.

"You," I said. "We saw you. You overpowered Rosa and..."

Veronica shook her head, her dark curls billowing in a soft crown around her hair. "No. I did not. I don't know what y'all saw, but it wasn't me. I wasn't there. I have half a dozen people who can confirm otherwise."

"We can't explain how it happened," Amelia said. "There was a similar death in New Orleans. Definitive evidence that the person's partner did it, even though they have a rock-solid alibi at the time of the murder."

Veronica shook her head and stood up. "I can't think about this right now. I've got more pressing concerns." She gestured to the window where we could see the giant bonfire burning on the outer field. "You guys need to go."

"Wait," I said. "Don't you want to find out what happened to Rosa? To bring her killer to justice?"

Veronica's eyes flashed with anger. I stepped back instinctively and bumped into Eric.

"Do I want to bring her killer to justice?" She spoke slowly, enunciating each word with quiet anger. The pale otherworldly aura that wavered around her flushed to a deep orange. Was I the only one seeing this? Was it the weed?

"I mean, did anything strange happen in the weeks leading up to Rosa's death? Anything at all. Like magic you didn't expect to happen? Or evidence of a curse? Or lingering strangers you've never noticed before?"

"Magic I didn't expect to happen? Evidence of a curse?" Veronica repeated. "What are you even talking about? Is she a really witch, Amelia?"

Amelia stood and hooked her arm through me. "An apprentice," she said brightly. "My apprentice. Very new."

"Nothing strange happened," Veronica said. "We'd had a few misunderstandings, a few fights, but things seemed normal."

"Was it unusual for you to argue with one another?" Eric asked.

"I don't know. I suppose. I guess I'll never know now." I gleaned from her mind that they'd only been together for less than a year, they were still in the honeymoon phase. They hadn't had enough time together to figure out the natural ups and downs of their relationship.

We left Veronica to her own devices, so she could prepare for the big ritual.

"Whoa. That was intense," I said once we started making our way back to the party. I was glad to be out of the room and that house. The strength of Veronica's emotions bled into me. She'd been truthful, that much I could tell.

"She definitely didn't smell anything like fenugreek," Eric said.

"Do you think she did that doppelganger spell?" I asked Amelia.

"You mean shadow magic. And the more I think about it, the less likely it seems. It requires huge amount of concentration to perform a spell like that. It's impossible that she was dealing with police on one side of town and commanding a clone version of herself at the same time."

"Impossible even for a powerful witch?"

"Yes."

"Well, fuck!" I said. Both Amelia and Eric looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "I'm annoyed!"

"I think you're stoned," Amelia said squinting at me. "I don't think I've ever heard you curse."

"I think we're both stoned." I pointed to the tiki torches that, instead of emitting flames to light the path to the party, were emitting a steady stream of sweet-smelling smoke from the wrapped bundles of dried leaves they held.

"Sage and ganja sticks," Amelia said. "Some witch out there thought she was really clever coming up with that combo for the first time. Both cleansing your aura and getting you high as a kite at the same time. "

I felt a giggle bubble up. Sneaking into a secret witch ritual, angering one of the most powerful witches in the area, the terrifying masks, Eric's ridiculous get up. But I was mostly glad to have finished talking to Veronica. Laughing felt good. It lifted me from the grief of the scene we'd just left.

"I'll call Ryker," I said and pulled my new cell phone from my pocket. I bought a cheap phone from Walmart just before the trip to tide me over.

"No, you won't," Eric said. "Not in your current state."

"Fine, you report to him." I passed him my cell. We marched on ahead to the party, while Eric lingered behind to talk to Ryker.

"We should stay for the witching hour," Amelia said, looping her arm back in mine. "It's really spectacular."

I'd actually worked up a ravenous appetite and was eager to get to the offering table filled with food. I left Amelia mingling with some witches she recognized, and I loaded up a plate with food and even managed to find a sealed bottle of water. I sat to the side and watched the antics of the witches as they worked themselves into a frenzy, dancing and chanting around the enormous bonfire. The fire had grown substantially larger in the time I'd been gone. Two well-muscled men were steadily throwing logs into its fiery center.

The music swelled into a faster rhythm, and I found I could ignore it no longer. I finished the last of my water pulled my mask down into place. I slipped back into the throng of bodies and danced. It felt good to let loose. Maybe there was something to this witchy business? Feeling the solid ground beneath my feet as I danced and stomped, seeing the veil of stars above my head, feeling the joy of the witches around me. The music carried me through the crowd.

A cool hand grasped mine and I was no longer dancing on my own. Eric's eyes twinkled from behind his mask, or maybe it was just bronzer glinting in the firelight. Either way, I clung to his arms and gave it my all. We'd always danced well together. We spun and twirled, and he dipped me, making me laugh wildly. My feet didn't always cooperate, and one point I just gave up and stepped up onto his boots. He held me by the waist, and I somehow continued to dance my butt off.

"It feels like we're floating!" I said.

"We are," he said. I looked down and, sure enough, we were floating an inch off the ground. Judging by the size of his grin peeking from around his mask, he was enjoying this just as much as me.

The music soon stopped. The crowd hushed to a murmur and a chant took hold, deep and pulsating. I couldn't make out what was being said.

Amelia appeared by our sides. "Come on guys, let's move out of the way so we can watch this." Amelia grabbed my hand and pulled me roughly out of the thick of the crowd and away from Eric.

"What are you doing?" she hissed into my ear.

"Dancing!"

She gave me a 'don't be stupid' look.

"Don't lead him on, Sookie."

"What? Who do you mean?" I asked. "Danny?"

"I'm not talking about Danny, you idiot. I mean Eric." It was as if she'd slapped me. I had no chance to reply because Eric joined us.

Veronica, in her flowing white dress and unnerving owl mask, made her way through the parting crowd. The crowd's chant lowered to a rhythmic whisper, and the air felt thick with power. Veronica walked toward the bonfire like a bride walking down the aisle. From the corner of my eye, I watched Eric. He seemed absorbed in the events unfolding. What on earth was Amelia on about? Leading Eric on? We'd only been dancing. And since when did she stick up for Eric, anyway?

A platform now stood near the fire, it must have been wheeled in or erected while we were dancing. Veronica climbed the steps, accompanied by a woman dressed in a brown fairy-style gown with a similar mask to Veronica's but in shades of feathery brown. The other woman lifted the mask off her face and one of those muscled men from earlier took it from her hands. She spread her arms in a signal, and the crowd fell into silence. The mood switched instantly from revelry to charged anticipation.

That's the high priestess of the Dallas coven, Amelia thought at me.

"Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Morganna, Kali, Innana!" the woman cried, and her voice reverberated through the empty fields surrounding us. "Under light of moon, under shadow of night, we call upon the cardinals, we call upon the guardians, we call upon the horned hunter of the night. Invoke us your power, work our will! With the fire and spirit of Lechuza we are cleansed!" She switched to Spanish and continued her speech.

Eric's head appeared between our shoulders, and he whispered to us, "Just spoke with Ryker again. He has some follow up questions for the witch. Wants us to see if she'll agree to talk to him."

"I don't know if she'll agree," I said. Amelia murmured her agreement.

Veronica, on stage, had her forehead anointed with oil and the whispers of the crowd turned into an urgent, percussive chant. Amelia joined in, pointing her palms outstretched to Veronica like everyone else; Eric and I followed suit. Well, we tried our best to mimic. Veronica lifted her arms as if to receive whatever the crowd was imparting through their palms, and for a moment, silhouetted against the bright orange of the bonfire, her arms looked like broad, feathered wings. The chanting rose to a battle cry, and the witches began stomping their feet against the earth. Veronica stepped backward off the platform and fell back in the flames.

Before I could cry out, Veronica rose through the fire, her mask gone and her dress billowing around her, giant ephemeral wings protruding from her back. Everyone began stomping and cheering like crazy, Amelia included, and Veronica hovered through the air and landed in the arms of the waiting crowd, the ghostly wings dissipating. The music struck up again, much louder than before, and this time the dancing was feverish and frenzied. Eric pulled Amelia and I to the edge of the crowd.

"We need to find her!" Eric shouted over the raucous noise.

"She'll be dancing somewhere through the crowd!" Amelia said.

"I'll try," I said, tapping my temple. Everyone here was drunk, high or both and totally not going to notice a telepath slipping past their thoughts. Or so I hoped. Witches were sensitive. After my run-in with the witches in Oklahoma, I was proceeding with caution. I closed my eyes and traversed the crowd. It felt a little like mentally moving through that crazy scene in Dumbo with the pink elephants. Everyone was a little whacky and on a completely different plane of existence. Maybe I was as well. I finally landed upon Veronica but just as quickly my hold slipped.

"I think she's to the left of the platform," I said, frowning, searching in vain again. Finally, I caught her mental signature again. She was easy to spot between the other minds. She wasn't a jubilant as the other witches, though still pleased to be surrounded by her supernatural kinfolk. And still sober. "Yep, dancing near the edge of the crowd over to the left of the platform!"

As we made our way across the crowd, I tried to keep track of her mind. It was challenging. There were too many people, too much noise; people pressed against me, their thoughts pressing into me also. It didn't help that the stupid dope smoke I'd been inadvertently breathing all night was dulling my senses.

"She's gone," Eric said, scanning over heads of most of the crowd.

I closed my eyes. I thought I caught her now on the other side of the bonfire, but I wasn't sure. Then I landed on her mind once more.

"I found her again! Wait—what? She's gone. What on earth?" I twisted around to look. She disappeared from my mental grasp like she'd vanished. I pushed my way through the crowd like a dog hunting a scent, completely forgetting about Eric and Amelia. How did she move like that? I found her again and just as quickly lost her. One moment she was on one side of the crowd and the next she was on the other. And then I ran right into her.

"Veronica!" I said. "I was looking for you. We were looking for you." Amelia and Eric arrived at my side.

Veronica had her hands in the air, her hips turning languidly with the music, her shimmery white gown catching the light of the fire. "Well, here I am," she said. She drew the vowels out into a seductive croon.

"Can we talk to you somewhere a bit quieter?"

"You," she said, focusing on Eric. "How did I not notice you? You exude power…" She grabbed onto Eric's black leather belt and pulled him into her dance, which Eric willingly let himself be drawn into. He was always down for an ego stroke, but this was so the wrong time. She caught my annoyed grimace and her smile broadened. "Well, well, don't like that do you?"

"We have more questions," I said. Eric, finally seeing some sense, took her by the arm, and we moved the through crowd until we were on the fringes. Witches we passed called for Veronica to join them but Eric, Amelia and I stood in the way like a vampire, witch, mostly-human blockade against the others.

"You're definitely a witch," she said pointing to Amelia and then turned to Eric. "But you are a vampire, and you?" She looked me up and down, a small smile creeping onto her ruby painted lips. "I don't know what you are."

"We're not witches," Eric said, his voice taking on an eerie glaze. "We have a request for you."

"Fine, fine," she said. "You don't need to glamour me." Veronica's mood now had made a complete 180 from when we'd talked to her earlier. "Not if you want to survive this night unscathed, vampire."

"Do you know anything about shadow spells?" Amelia asked. I guessed she wanted to rule out any possibility.

"You mean doppelgangers?" Veronica said and laughed. "Really? That's what you think happened? How charming. You know," she said and directed her attention from Eric to me and back again. "I'd rather talk about these two. A vampire and a… Mostly something." She wrinkled her nose at me. "I bet that causes problems."

"We're not together," I said.

"Do you know anything about shadow magic?" Amelia asked again, and I pressed into Veronica's mind. All echoes of grief had gone. She was thoroughly amused by our line of questioning.

"I know about shadow magic. But I don't practice it." She was telling the truth. "You really think I killed her? You really wanna know?" She leaned over and cupped the side of her mouth like she was letting us in on a big secret then spoke, "It was never gonna work between us. A were and a witch? Doomed from the start."

"You've changed your tune," Eric said.

"Vampire, your face is familiar. Where do I know you from? You hold some position of power down south?"

"Yes. Yes. He was once an area Sherrif," I said, getting impatient now. I was ready to cut the crap and all the waffling. "Yes, we really want to know if you killed her."

"Do you really want to know?" Veronica looked me dead in the eyes. Her mind had slowed to a singular, focused point. It was more than a little scary.

"Yes," I said.

"I killed her."

Distantly, I heard Amelia gasp. In that moment I saw straight into Veronica's mind, like a movie reel in HD. Rosa's blood rushing over her hands as she plunged the knife into abdomen, again and again.

Adrenaline hit me like a rocket, I wanted to grab Veronica, restrain her somehow, but Eric's cool hand clasped on my elbow, holding me in place.

"And what are you three going to do about it?" Veronica said and laughed, a light effervescent sound.

"We'll take you to the authorities," I said.

"I only have to flick my wrist and have the power of over two hundred witches at my disposal. Do you think that would end well for you?"

My mind swam. I looked to Amelia who had shrunk in on herself like a frightened dormouse. We were clearly outmatched and hadn't planned for this eventuality. Not one of us expected her to outright confess.

"Eric," I said. He was my second-best bet. "We can't leave it like this!"

"We came for answers. Not to apprehend." His expression was dark. This situation was as intolerable for him as it was me. But we were had no choice.

"Isn't that sweet? A vampire looking out for little old mortal you?" Veronica took my hand. I snatched it from her grip, but she held tight, her hand seeming to turn hot as a brand. "It's not love. It's unnatural," she whispered into my ear. I could smell the mulled wine from her breath.

"We've got the answers we need," Amelia said, her fingers pressing into my shoulders insistently. Let's go, let's go, let's go, she chanted internally. Her fear coursed into me with a rush and my feet finally moved.

"It's better this way," Veronica said. "One day, you'll see!" With a wave, she disappeared back into the crowd.

"We can't just let her go!" I cried.

"Yes, we can," Amelia said; an explicable grin tugged at her lips. She lifted her palm and opened her hand revealing two dark hairs. "Because we can just track her down tomorrow night."