The End of Magic (The Witches of Echo Park #3)(55)

A sociopath's smile, Dev thought, and put on her kid gloves. As far as she was concerned, they were both dangerous predators that she wanted off her scent as soon as possible.

"Next week. She was visiting abroad. Italy, I think."

She continued to stick close to the truth. They could easily check and see that a Lyse MacAllister had booked a flight to Italy.

The older man pulled a card from his suit jacket pocket and offered it to her.

"If you hear from Ms. MacAllister, please give us a call."

Dev nodded, giving them what she hoped was a helpful look.

"I will."

They seemed satisfied with their mini-interrogation and turned to go-but then the one with the spectacles pivoted back to face her.

"We have the house under surveillance, Ms. Mendoza. We're tapping the phones, all perfectly legal and obtained under special court order. So should you try to warn your little witch friend not to come back home, we'll know it."

He gave her that strange cold smile again-The smile of a snake, Dev thought-and then he rejoined his partner, who was waiting for him farther down the deck. Dev watched them go, keeping the smile pasted on her face until she was sure they'd crossed the koi pond and were heading back out onto the street.

"You sons of bitches," she murmured.

She stepped back inside and closed the door, leaned against the smooth wooden surface. Her body was taut as piano wire. She hadn't realized how much the two policemen had affected her until they were gone.

"Freddy?" she called.

He was out of the back rooms in a flash, looking sheepish.

"I shouldn't have let you handle that all by yourself," he said, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. 

"No, you did the right thing," she said. "They were here looking for Eleanora and Lyse, but I put them off. I used your last name. They won't have that on their list. I'm Devandra Montrose to them. There's no Ellen Mendoza to go chasing after."

The words came out in a rush, disjointed and frenetic. She was more upset than she'd realized.

Freddy came to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in close. The stench of fear had dissipated and he smelled like himself again.

"I can't lose you, Dev," he whispered in her ear.

"I know," she whispered back.

They stood clinging to one another for a long while. Until the shadows of the afternoon leaked in through the windows and cast them into darkness.


• • •

Dev wasn't surprised that the first test of this new, improved version of herself had followed so closely on the heels of saying good-bye to her mother and sisters. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, she thought-and she believed this mantra because it had proved true in her case.

As she and Freddy lay in Eleanora's bed, snuggled up together like two bugs in a rug, Devandra knew she had to reach out to the others. No one had called her, but Freddy had received a text from Arrabelle, letting them know they were in Italy (which was craziness), that Daniela was ill, and they would come as soon as they could manage.

You can't come back here, ladies, Dev thought, while Freddy's soft snores tickled the back of her neck. It's just not safe anymore.

It was heartrending to think the place she'd called home was now an alien thing. No longer would she feel protected. Her house was gone. Her family was gone. The warmth and safety she'd known walking the streets of her beloved neighborhood were gone. There was nothing left for her in Echo Park.

Taking care not to wake Freddy, she wiggled out of his arms and crawled out of the bed. She wore her long strawberry-blond hair loose at night, and it grew so fast these days that it trailed almost to her waist. Her feet protested at the coldness of the floor, but she ignored them and went to Eleanora's dressing table. Here she found Freddy's phone and carried it with her out of the bedroom.

The house was silent as a tomb, the air chilly enough to make goose bumps appear on Dev's exposed arms and throat. She scuttled down the darkened hallway on tiptoe, careful not to turn on any lights as she went. When she reached the living room, she made her way to the couch and settled in, pulling an afghan from its back and bundling up.

"Better," she said, still shivering. But she could already feel the crocheted afghan doing its job. Warmth was returning again.

She took out the phone and the screen flared to life, the phone vibrating in her hand. She searched through the contacts and selected Arrabelle's name from the list. She sent her friend a text message:

Don't come back. We will meet you in another place. Xoxo D

She deleted the text from Freddy's phone-it was instinctual, there was no logical reason for the move-and then she depressed the power button, putting the phone back to sleep.

She was back in bed five minutes later, Freddy's phone exactly where he'd left it when he'd gone to bed that night.