Page 36 of Coven of Corpses

“Right. Rita tried to stop the witch, but he was too fast and…she didn’t make it.”

“How do we stop it?” Demetrius said.

“I don’t know that yet,” Tracey said. “Clarabell and I have been looking through notes.”

“Are you somewhere safe?”

She gave him a soft, sad smile and nodded. “I am. I won’t tell you where, just in case.”

“I understand,” Demetrius said.

Margie approached, carrying a bag with a takeaway container inside. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Margie,” Tracey said, pushing to her feet. “What do I owe you?”

“I’ll pay for it,” Demetrius said, waving a hand. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Tracey said. She took the bag from Margie, slung a leather messenger bag that had been on the seat beside her onto one shoulder, and slid the large sunglasses on over her glasses. Looking between them, she said, “Be careful. He knows who you are now.”

“We will,” Demetrius said.

“You be careful, too,” Oliver said.

Tracey nodded, turned away, and hurried down the back hallway toward the exit.

Oliver got up and moved to the other side of the booth then leaned in over the table. His eyes were bright with excitement as he gripped the bottom of his tumbler of iced tea. “A witch and a demon,” he said quietly. “Can you believe it?”

Demetrius sipped his tea. “Yeah, actually, I can.”

He picked up the bill Margie had left and flinched. It would be added to the long list of charges on their credit card. Worth it, he supposed, if it meant stopping this latest threat. And he considered himself lucky to not have lost two people he cared about, like Tracey had.

“What now?” Oliver asked, sipping his tea.

“I’m going to head home and think about next steps,” Demetrius said. “What about you?”

“I’ll probably make some notes about all of this,” Oliver said.

“You going to post it to your blog?”

“Not until we figure out who it is and how to stop him.”

Demetrius sat back, looking around the diner. They would stop him. They had to. They were the good guys, so they would win in the end. He just worried what it would cost them.

CHAPTER NINE

Cody’s back protested when he lifted a box wrong. He paused and closed his eyes, gripping the box tight and holding very still as he willed the muscles in his lower back to relax. It worked for the moment, and he transferred the box to the flatbed cart.

“You think your grandma was a witch?” Jugs lifted a box—using the correct method, Cody noted—and placed it on the flatbed next to the one Cody had added.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Would explain a lot.”

Cody turned to give him a hard look. “You talking smack about my recently deceased grandma?”

“What? Nope. I wouldn’t do that.” Jugs reached over the cart to squeeze his shoulder. “I loved Felicia. She was a good woman.”

“Yeah, all right. Sorry. I’m a little on edge.” Cody squatted—thinking to himself, lift with your aching, worn out knees—and took hold of another box.