Mark of the Witch by Maggie Shayne

Author:Maggie Shayne [Shayne, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Romance, Paranormal, Fiction
ISBN: 9780778313335
Google: 544xVwhOzqgC
Amazon: 0778313336
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Taking the scenic route down to the lake, with a stop at the waterfall. Back soon.

Rayne & Indy

“Well, son? Where have they gone?” Dom asked.

“Down to the lake.” He paced nervously to the sliding patio doors and looked out over the lake below. “They’re probably all right.”

“I’ve no doubt they’re all right. Demon’s not likely to do harm to his own servants, now, is he? But if the witch figures out how to get her hands on that amulet, and he convinces her to give it to him instead of you, well…that’s a whole other matter. That puts us all in danger. Her included.”

Tomas was irritated with Father Dom for being more concerned over the amulet than the safety of Indy and Rayne. But he let it pass for the moment—partly because he knew that was exactly the way Dom expected his priorities to fall, too. The way they would fall if he were putting the mission first. But they didn’t fall that way. Never had.

Rayne was his sister, and he loved her. He was already regretting that she’d become entangled in this dangerous situation. And Indy was…Indy was…amazing. And not the devil’s mistress Father Dom was so damned determined to make him believe she was. Not even close to that.

“She’s getting to you, isn’t she, Tomas? The witch?”

He shot a look at Father Dom but didn’t answer. “I’m heading down to find them.”

“I’m coming, too.”

Tomas almost snapped at him to stay behind, then caught himself. What the hell was happening to him? Dom might be a few bubbles off the beam about the demon and his plans for world domination, but he was his friend—family, really. “Best grab a jacket,” he said instead. And then he crossed the room, opened a closet door and took one for himself. It was big and made of faded denim, just heavy enough to keep out the chill. As he pulled it from the hanger, he spotted the old shotgun leaning against the rear corner of the closet. It had come with the house, and he’d had it inspected and repaired, and kept it around for emergencies. Rabid raccoons, or wounded animals in need of putting down.

He’d never had to use it. Had often wondered if he had it in him to do so. Impulsively, he reached in and pulled it out.

Father Dom raised his brows. “I didn’t know you owned a gun.”

“There was a rabies scare a few years back,” he said.

“Ah.”

“Forgot I had it, to tell you the truth.”

“You have…bullets?”

“Yeah.” He handed the shotgun, a twenty-gauge pump action with a long barrel and open sights, to Father Dom, then turned back to the closet, reaching onto the overhead shelf and digging through piles of winter hats and various other items. Eventually he felt the heavy, cardboard box and pulled it down. “Just five slugs.”

“We shouldn’t need more than that,” Father Dom said.

“Let’s hope we don’t need any.” Tomas put the slugs in the breast pocket of his jacket, held the gun in one hand, barrel tilted downward, and headed out the back door and onto the trail.

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