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help."
"I agree," Boris said. "Let the police do their job. They have enough firepower out
there to take out two houses of drug pushers."
"I can't leave. I still need to find out just what the source of the evil is. A clue is in
that house. I'm still going in. The evil has to be identified before it can be stopped."
And, most importantly, Ty was still in danger, more so than before. For he was out
there. She turned her head, searching with her sixth sense, and found him across the
street, several houses away from Ted's. He'd left her in his bed to come into this danger.
He wasn't aware of her ... yet. But that situation could change at any time. He was
more intuitive than he realized. She had to hurry. If he realized she was here, he would
rush to get her away from here. She couldn't allow that to happen.
The twins' acquiescent sighs whispered through her mind. They didn't like it, but
they would support her.
"Be careful,." the twins said in unison.
"I will."
Star and the twins left to begin their patrol around the house.
Brenna patted the inner pocket of her cloak for the bag of herbs and flagon of
aromatic oils she had placed there. Good, the transporting hadn't disturbed them. As long
as she could get into the house and access the heating/cooling vents, she would be able to
blanket the house in a sleeping fog. With any luck, it would only take her a few minutes.
If she could not get into the furnace room or find another way to disperse her
concoction into the house, then she would go to Plan B. But that would entail
pyrotechnics, and with all those armed men out there, Plan B didn't sound as good as it
had several hours earlier.
Damn Ty. He should have consulted her. He wasted a lot of man-hours and public
resources on a job she could do in mere minutes with a guarantee of secrecy. No need for
warrants, probable causenothing.
She would have to have a serious talk with him about trusting her.
"But you didn't call to tell him you'd be here, now did you?" the Goddess said.
"Because you told me there was danger to him and to his men," replied Brenna. "He
wouldn't have taken the notion well that I had to protect him from whatever is in this
house."
"Well, there is that," said the Goddess. "All relationships have a learning curve.
You'll figure it out ... eventually."
"But not without a lot of bumps along the way," Brenna said.
The Goddess's laughter faded away on the night breeze. It was good to know that she
had the deity on her side.
Using her cloak as a shield, Brenna moved as swiftly as the wind to the basement
access to the house. One of the twins had circled back to trail her, then took up a position
at the basement door to guard her back.
With a flick of her wrist and a small spell, the door was unlocked. She entered.
In the total darkness of the basement, she moved as sure-footed as a cat doing a
nightly prowl toward the heating and cooling system.
"Illumine," she whispered, and her crystal pendant glowed with enough light to aid
her in her work.
In the main vent, attached to the blower unit on the system, she poured the oil.
Across the liquid base, she sprinkled the herbs: sage, hemp and a special powdered
mushroom, across the top.
Gathering a small amount of earth power, she set the mixture aflame with a burst of
fire from her fingertips. She recovered the vent and quickly left the basement to let the
fumes do their work.
The fusion of the herbs, fungi and oil would combust quickly, emitting a colorless,
odorless gas that would send the house's occupants into the waking sleep. They would not
move or talk unless ordered to do so. Coven elders used this for humane interrogations.
Witches had come a long way since ancient times.
The wolfhound still guarded the basement's exterior door.
"How long will it take?" Igor asked.
"I'll give it thirty seconds."
"Won't it affect you?"
"Not with this." Brenna showed Igor the mask of stimulant herbs she would wear
across her face. "After I find what I need, I'll go to the basement and place similar herbs
to the ones in this mask into the vent to reverse the spell. They'll wake up as soon as the
second set of fumes reaches them. They'll never know I was there."
"Well, hurry up. Boris told me the cops seem to be waiting on someone. He doesn't
like this."
"I'll be in and out faster than you can recite the Coven's credo."
Igor let out a doggy snort.
Brenna re-entered the house. Again, she found her way across the basement in the
dark. No use tipping off the law that someone was in the basement. Finding the stairs to
the main level, she climbed them as lightly as a cat. Listening at the door, she heard
nothing. No talking. Nothing but the even, relaxed breathing of the drugged inhabitants.
Plan A was working just fine. Now for the swift interrogations and a little judicious
snooping.
She opened the door. Two men sat at the kitchen table, their heads lying on it, eyes
open, unseeing.
They looked to be grunts; she would save them for last. She entered the main room.
The blank stares of the men unnerved her more than usual. She chalked it up to the
Goddess's warning, and vowed to stay alert. She sought for and immediately singled out
the head man. Maybe it was the gaudy gold necklace that spelled out "The Boss" that
gave him away, but she would have guessed him anyway. He had the most jewelry and
the best seat in the house. Plus, all the money was in front of him. Piles of it. They must
have been doing an accounting of the night's take.
She walked over to him and put a finger under his chin from where it rested on his
chest and the "B" in "Boss," and lifted his head.
His eyes stared blankly in front of him. She smiled in satisfaction at how well the
sleeping concoction had worked.
"Did you have Bob John Roebuck killed?" she asked.
"Uh-unh," the large man slurred, attempting to shake his head. "Bad news, that. Too
much heat."
Damn, if this gang didn't do it, who did?
"Do you know who ordered him killed?"
"No. That was nasty piece of work. We shoot people. Knives are for spics."
Hecate's hangnails. Can't hang the murder on this group, but the law would be happy
to put them away for drug dealing.
The impression she had of being watched increased. Something more than the men's
eyes looked upon her.
Swirling around she looked for what might cause the sensation.
"Brenna!"
Igor's voice sounded urgent.
"What?"
"Are you almost through?"
"Yes. They didn't kill Bob John. They don't know who did, either."
"Well, something is shaking out here. The cops are getting ready for something. And,
my gut tells me it will entail lots of shooting. Get out of there! Now!"
"Coming."
Since nothing had attacked her, whatever the danger was in this house could wait.
She didn't want to be caught in the middle of any gunfight. Once the gang was rousted
and arrested, she would persuade Ty to allow her to check the place out first. Something
was very wrong in this house, and it had nothing to do with drugs, guns or dirty money.
She retraced her steps toward the kitchen. As she was about to go through the door, a
peripheral flash of movement and light caught her attention. She turned and spotted the
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