The Witch's Initiation. Elle James

for the shutoff valve.

      “I have to go.” Selene staggered toward the door, her eyes squinting and her forehead lined with pain.

      Deme opened the door and glanced out into the hallway. “You can go now. The hallway’s clear.” When Selene passed her, she gave her sister’s arm a squeeze. “Be careful.”

      As she closed the door behind Selene, Deme turned to the scratching at the window. The vines now choked out the little bit of light. A chill that had nothing to do with being wet or cold shivered across Deme’s skin.

      Gina turned the shutoff valve, and the geyser of water slowed to a trickle and finally stopped. She straightened, soaked to the skin, and shook some of the water from her arms. “What just happened?”

      “I don’t know, but you’d better go before the Gamma Omega girls come looking for all the commotion.”

      Deme checked the hallway and held the door for her sister. “See you tonight. Be safe.”

      Once her sisters were gone, Deme closed the door and leaned her back against it, staring at the wreck of her room.

      She wasn’t Selene, but she’d felt it, too. As they’d stood in the circle, the air in the room changed as if drawing on their power.

      Standing in a puddle of water, the lights dim and the window blocked by ivy, Deme knew with certainty they were dealing with more than just a kidnapper. Aurai was in a lot more trouble than they’d originally thought.

       Chapter 4

      After Cal left campus, he returned to the Chicago Police Special Investigations Division. Lead investigator Lieutenant Martin Warner had requested his presence. Cal hoped he’d fill him in on the rest of the details he’d left out in the hurried initial briefing that morning.

      Cal passed the front desk, waving at the sergeant who manned the telephone. He wove his way through the office cubicles to the rear of the building, where the Special Investigations Team had set up a war room.

      Having been on the team all of four hours and twenty-seven minutes, Cal didn’t know anyone but the lieutenant who’d briefed him earlier that morning.

      When Cal entered the war room, Marty had his back to the door. He stood with his feet braced wide and his chin resting in his hand, staring at a white board with a thick black horizontal line stretched across the surface. Taped in one corner was a preprinted map of the Colyer-Fenton College campus. Beside the lieutenant, a woman dressed in black leather with long, ink-black hair hanging down to her waist leaned against the edge of the table, her arms crossed over her chest. “Has to be connected,” she said, her voice husky, yet smooth, like milk chocolate-covered gravel.

      Marty, as he’d asked Cal to call him, nodded. “Every one of the incidents occurred either on campus or were performed by people who are related to Colyer-Fenton.”

      Cal cleared his throat.

      Marty spun and faced him. The woman beside him turned more slowly. When she saw who was standing there, her lips curled up on the sides in a devilish smile. “Ah, our detective has arrived.”

      Cal’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t remember meeting this woman, but there was something familiar about her. “I’m sorry, I haven’t had the pleasure.” He stuck out his hand. “Cal Black.”

      When she took his hand, an odd burst of heat streamed from her hand to his, shooting like an adrenaline burst up his arm and into his chest.

      He pulled his hand back quicker than normal, his palm still tingling. “And you are?”

      “Brigid.” Her smile grew wider.

      Marty clapped Brigid on the back. “Brigid is one of the team.”

      “How long have you been on the force?”

      “Counting today?” She checked her watch. “Approximately four hours.”

      Cal’s gaze shot from her to Marty.

      Marty sighed. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, she’s been working with the Chicago Police Department for almost a year and demonstrated her…uh…expertise. Mostly with arson investigations, but we have reason to believe she could be of assistance on this team.”

      Cal frowned. “Does she understand the risks of working on the Chicago police force?”

      Brigid crossed her arms over her chest, her black leather vest creaking, the black nail polish on her fingertips shining. “I can take care of myself, if that’s what you’re asking.”

      “Do you have a license to carry a weapon?”

      “No.”

      “Do you even know how to shoot?”

      “No.” She glanced at Marty.

      “She’s not a trained police officer, Cal.” Marty grinned. “But she has talents that could come in handy on this case and others we’ve seen like it.”

      Not until she stared up at him, forcing him to look directly into her eyes, did he realize how intensely blue hers were.

      Cal nodded, not entirely sold on Brigid’s so-called talents, but willing to give the lieutenant the benefit of the doubt. “Maybe you can explain to me what exactly the Special Investigations Team does?”

      “Yeah.” Brigid sat on the conference table and crossed her legs Indian fashion. “Tell him what we’re up against.”

      “That’s just it.” Marty shook his head. “We don’t know what we’re up against. We’ve taken a select few of Chicago’s finest from the police force and a couple detectives like you and a few trusted civilians we’ve worked with in the past…”

      Brigid shot a frown at the lieutenant.

      The man’s lips twisted. “Okay, one trusted civilian…to form this team.”

      Brigid’s frown smoothed.

      The lieutenant stared hard into Cal’s eyes. “We get all the cases no one knows what to do with, the ones that don’t make sense, and we try to make sense out of them.”

      Brigid snorted in a very unladylike manner, yet in keeping with the black leather, bad-ass persona she’d adopted. “What the lieutenant is trying to say, but isn’t quite nailing, is that we will be investigating the cases involving paranormal activities. Incidents that defy the norm. The quirky, weird, bizarre, uncanny and downright strange occurrences that usually get shoved under the radar because they make people feel too uncomfortable to address.”

      “What are you talking about? I thought I was investigating the disappearance of a girl.” Cal reminded himself this girl wasn’t just any girl. She was his ex-girlfriend’s sister.

      “And you are,” Marty assured him. “First and foremost, we want to retrieve the missing girl and reunite her with her family.” The lieutenant stared over at Brigid. “While I have both of you here alone, I need to know something.”

      “Know what?” Cal demanded.

      “I need to know that your connections with the victim’s family members will not get in your way of performing a thorough investigation.”

      “What connection?” Cal’s heart beat faster, but he played dumb to the lieutenant’s question. What did Marty know about his relationship with Deme Chattox?

      The lieutenant shook his head. “We conduct a thorough investigation of all our team members, security check, background check down to what vet you take your dog to.”

      “I don’t have a dog,” Cal stated flatly.

      “Well, we knew you had a thing going with Deme Chattox, the victim’s oldest sister.”

      Brigid’s eyes narrowed. “Were you doing my sister? Tsk, tsk. And here I thought we’d have a shot at making things