Witch Interrupted by Jody Wallace Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jody Wallace
of us.”
“Is he one of mine?” Before going into hiding with Katie and Zhang Li, Tonya had been a sympathizer, part of the underground railroad for transformed wolves. Tonya and Katie had been on the exact opposite sides of the fence and had had to learn to laugh about it, or at least not discuss philosophy. “That could explain why he’s still cognizant. Of course, mine aren’t supposed to remain in the continental United States.”
“I don’t think so.” Katie scrubbed the hair that had dried into an awkward cowlick on the back of her neck. “He mentioned a recent transformation, and you haven’t been in that line of work for, what, twenty years?”
“Something like that.”
Tonya had had to let that vocation go, and unlike Katie, she’d loved her work. Katie often wondered how isolated her friend had remained from her former collaborators. But the sympathizers were the best at disappearing people from witch radar, which is why Vernon Harrower, the then-director of the keepers, had cut a deal with Tonya to save Katie. He would step down if Tonya would hide his protégée and her father.
It has been better for Katie to disappear than face the results of the inquest—and the wrath of the new council director, Hiram Lars, who’d intended to execute her.
Twenty years wasn’t long enough for Katie to be comfortable with a cognizant wolf, no matter how polite and handsome. “We’re going to alter his memories. Play it safe. I have everything ready. All we need to do is link up and cast the spell.”
“A life wipe, if we manage it, will suck us as dry as a drought. Tomorrow is patrol day,” Tonya said. “We can’t be power-drained on patrol day. Let’s wait.”
“And give you time to talk me out of it? No way. We’ll avoid the patrol old-style.” Without reserves, they’d use the primed disguises in their go bags to cover their DNA and travel in the opposite direction of the wolves. The Birmingham sentries were predictable, and their duty was to seek indies and claim jumpers, not witches. They didn’t know witches existed.
“He may have family. Children. A wife. What if he’s married to the wolf who loved him?”
“The wolf who loved him. He’s not James Bond, he’s just some guy.” Katie’s cheeks heated. “Anyway, he said he was single when I gave him the tat last month.”
“You asked if he was single?” Her handler smirked, the skin beside her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Why would you want to know that, Katie-kins?”
“No reason.” Katie ducked her head until her glasses slid down her nose, blurring her view. “He didn’t mention dependents or pets or anything time-sensitive when he let us handcuff him. That says alone to me. We’re wiping him.”
Depending on how old Marcus was, fine-tuning memories wasn’t simple. It required steady magic and surgical precision to coax and nudge the brain into accepting that it had always belonged to a wolf, that witches didn’t exist.
Katie was good at it. One of the best. She’d participated in countless wipes on the keeper council. But there had, indeed, been a full coven, thirteen per team. Eleven or twelve when they’d had a member down, but usually thirteen.
No one had ever suggested they manage a wipe with fewer, whether Katie was involved or not. She’d be testing the limits of her strength soon. It would have to suffice. The only other witch she could trust was Vern, but she’d rather stab herself with a fork than ask him for help. The cost would be too dear. Moreover, Tonya and Vern hated each other so much their animosity would negate the benefits.
Tonya crunched up a mint from her handbag before answering. “What if we just tweak the part where Marcus found out about us and let him go? That wouldn’t drain us.”
“Insufficient.” Short-term memories weren’t tough to mold, but a transformed wolf required a life wipe. “He could get ambushed by the Birmingham pack any day, and then what would
“Is he one of mine?” Before going into hiding with Katie and Zhang Li, Tonya had been a sympathizer, part of the underground railroad for transformed wolves. Tonya and Katie had been on the exact opposite sides of the fence and had had to learn to laugh about it, or at least not discuss philosophy. “That could explain why he’s still cognizant. Of course, mine aren’t supposed to remain in the continental United States.”
“I don’t think so.” Katie scrubbed the hair that had dried into an awkward cowlick on the back of her neck. “He mentioned a recent transformation, and you haven’t been in that line of work for, what, twenty years?”
“Something like that.”
Tonya had had to let that vocation go, and unlike Katie, she’d loved her work. Katie often wondered how isolated her friend had remained from her former collaborators. But the sympathizers were the best at disappearing people from witch radar, which is why Vernon Harrower, the then-director of the keepers, had cut a deal with Tonya to save Katie. He would step down if Tonya would hide his protégée and her father.
It has been better for Katie to disappear than face the results of the inquest—and the wrath of the new council director, Hiram Lars, who’d intended to execute her.
Twenty years wasn’t long enough for Katie to be comfortable with a cognizant wolf, no matter how polite and handsome. “We’re going to alter his memories. Play it safe. I have everything ready. All we need to do is link up and cast the spell.”
“A life wipe, if we manage it, will suck us as dry as a drought. Tomorrow is patrol day,” Tonya said. “We can’t be power-drained on patrol day. Let’s wait.”
“And give you time to talk me out of it? No way. We’ll avoid the patrol old-style.” Without reserves, they’d use the primed disguises in their go bags to cover their DNA and travel in the opposite direction of the wolves. The Birmingham sentries were predictable, and their duty was to seek indies and claim jumpers, not witches. They didn’t know witches existed.
“He may have family. Children. A wife. What if he’s married to the wolf who loved him?”
“The wolf who loved him. He’s not James Bond, he’s just some guy.” Katie’s cheeks heated. “Anyway, he said he was single when I gave him the tat last month.”
“You asked if he was single?” Her handler smirked, the skin beside her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Why would you want to know that, Katie-kins?”
“No reason.” Katie ducked her head until her glasses slid down her nose, blurring her view. “He didn’t mention dependents or pets or anything time-sensitive when he let us handcuff him. That says alone to me. We’re wiping him.”
Depending on how old Marcus was, fine-tuning memories wasn’t simple. It required steady magic and surgical precision to coax and nudge the brain into accepting that it had always belonged to a wolf, that witches didn’t exist.
Katie was good at it. One of the best. She’d participated in countless wipes on the keeper council. But there had, indeed, been a full coven, thirteen per team. Eleven or twelve when they’d had a member down, but usually thirteen.
No one had ever suggested they manage a wipe with fewer, whether Katie was involved or not. She’d be testing the limits of her strength soon. It would have to suffice. The only other witch she could trust was Vern, but she’d rather stab herself with a fork than ask him for help. The cost would be too dear. Moreover, Tonya and Vern hated each other so much their animosity would negate the benefits.
Tonya crunched up a mint from her handbag before answering. “What if we just tweak the part where Marcus found out about us and let him go? That wouldn’t drain us.”
“Insufficient.” Short-term memories weren’t tough to mold, but a transformed wolf required a life wipe. “He could get ambushed by the Birmingham pack any day, and then what would