The Watcher

AN INVISIBLE WALL? THE WITCH'S DOING? MUST be. I've made the trek into Beso de la Muerte on this very road a hundred times. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if there had been a wall. I knew there was some kind of spell protecting the place, but this spell almost gave me a concussion.

Why is it here now? And why tell me that she has Culebra? If she thinks that will make me go away, she doesn't know me very well.

I slump back against the car. Smoke is still curling up from under the hood and both front tires are flat. The hood is folded back like an accordion. No sense in even trying to start the damned thing.

Resuming my blind mouse act, I feel my way to the right about a hundred feet from the car. The barrier stretches on. The same to the left. I stretch up on tiptoes, but can't feel a top to the thing, either. It's as smooth as plastic to the touch and about the same temperature as the air.

I return to the car and lean against the passenger side door to review my options. If I call Williams, what are the chances he takes my call? I'd guess pretty slim. He may have even set this up. It's his style for sure. Strand me in the middle of nowhere to keep me out of trouble. I doubt even the special effects would be beyond him, although he'd know the hint of Culebra in trouble would be enough to spur me on to Beso de la Muerte, not discourage me from trying. No, this can't be Williams' doing.

I think David would come get me, providing I could pry him away from Gloria on her big day. But that would involve explaining what I'm doing out in the middle of a Mexican dirt road in a rental car that's just smashed into an invisible wall.

Call a tow truck? I doubt an American company would drive out here and a Mexican company would most likely hold the car for ransom if they'd even venture this far from Tijuana. 'Course, it would serve Williams right if he ended up having to pay for the car. It could get sticky for me, though, too, if it's discovered I'm carrying phony ID.

My headache comes roaring back.

There is one other person who might help. The only other shape-shifter I know besides Culebra. Daniel Frey. I reach for the phone and flip it open.

No service.

I stare at the screen in disbelief. No service? Is this Williams' idea of a joke? Send me into Mexico with a phone that doesn't work out here?

I shake the phone in frustration. It doesn't improve the situation. The message remains the same. No service. Shit. I've just spent half an hour trying to decide who best to call and it turns out, it doesn't matter. The fucking phone is no good.

I get out of the car and throw the piece of shit as far into the desert as I can.

Now what?

It's at least a thirty mile walk back to the border. As a vampire, I could do it and not break a sweat. The problem is I came here for a reason. Culebra. Of course, without a phone, I'm stuck out here with no transportation. Until I get to the saloon. I know Culebra has a landline and as far as I remember, he didn't take the time to have it disconnected before he disappeared.

I look in the direction I hurled the phone. Probably shouldn't have done that. If Culebra's phone is not working, I might have gone back toward the main road and caught a signal.

Good job, Anna.

I approach the wall again. This time I push at it as hard as I can with both hands. It's unyielding. I kick at it. Beat it. I even take a couple of steps back and run full force at it. I bounce off it like a damned tennis ball. I try to shimmy over, but it's slick as glass and I can't get a toe- or handhold. If I try to jump it without knowing how tall it is, I'm sure I'll end up on my ass in the dirt.

Frustrated and furious, I lean back against the wall and lower myself to the ground.

Think.

I need help. I need someone I can reach telepathically. I've never tried to summon anyone or anything using only my mind. I don't know if it's possible to reach out that way at all, let alone from a distance.

And yet ...

A niggling thought tickles. Someone has reached out to me, though, many times. In fact, he pops into my head seemingly at will. Casper. He's pulled my butt from the fire twice before. The first time when I was captured by the Revengers and later, when Ryan, my niece's friend, was in trouble and I had no way to get to him. I don't know who or what he is. I just hear his voice in my head. I gave him the name Casper because he's like the friendly ghost in the comics.

Maybe I can work the magic in reverse. I haven't heard from him in weeks, since I started working for Williams, in fact, but what harm will it do to try?

I stand up and close my eyes.

Casper.

I open my eyes and tilt my head to listen. Nothing. I squeeze my eyes shut again and force everything out of my head.

Casper. Can you hear me?

Shit, with my luck, he's probably on vacation. I suck in a breath, concentrate harder.

Casper. Damn it, you have to hear me. I'm in trouble.

You don't look like you're in trouble.

The voice makes me jump. I didn't expect the summoning thing to really work. I smile.

Good. You heard me.

Of course I heard you. You were screaming in my head.

Well, I wasn't sure if you'd answer. You never did any of the other hundred times I called you.

You didn't need me the other hundred times. You just thought you did.

His sarcasm should trigger an angry response. But not now. I want him on my side. I gesture around. Can you see where I am ?

Of course. I see what you see.

Then you see the problem.

You wrecked your car? You called me because you wrecked your car? You mistake me for a tow truck?

I should be so lucky. I swallow that smart-ass reply, modulate a little pleading into my voice. Check it out. What did I hit?

I let my eyes sweep the front of the car. Show him that the engine is smashed flat where it hit whatever the hell it hit. Show him that there's no natural, physical reason to explain the damage.

Hmmm.

Glory be. I think he gets it.

Looks like you hit a force field of some kind. Casper's voice reflects a spark of interest.

That's what I think, too. How do I get around it?

You don't. It's there to keep you out.

The way he says you grabs my attention. Keep me out? Me, specifically?

I "feel" Casper nodding. Can't explain how, just know that he is.

Ineed to get to Beso de la Muerte. If something erected this force field, there has to be a way to get rid of it.

No response at all from Casper this time.

Come on. Help me out here. If a spell made it, there must be an antispell to dissolve it.

There's a tingling in my head. As if Casper is arguing with himself about something. I take that as a good sign and wait.

Finally, he says, There is no "antispell." Only those who erected such a barrier can destroy it.

Those who erected it? You mean it took more than one?

Yes.

So, it wasn't Culebra then. As far as I know, he works alone in Beso de la Muerte. But what did Williams say about Belinda Burke and her coven?

I feel Casper's mind grab onto that thought and a shimmer of concordance ripples through me. He says, Yes. A coven could accomplish such a thing as this.

How do I get around it?

A pause. Do you know how a witch gets her power?

Williams said it was from the earth.

Yes. From the earth. Not of it.

And the difference is?

The barrier rests upon the earth. It is possible to get underneath.

I cast a doubtful eye toward the hard packed desert sand. Not without a jackhammer and backhoe.

Oh ye of little faith.

If you mean the kind that moves mountains, you're right. I'm fresh out.

There's another pause. If I help you, Anna, you must understand, it will be the last time.

My shoulders jump, not only from what he says but the way he's says it. Solemnly. A pronouncement from which there is no appeal. The same way Williams sounded when he said I had to disappear. You mean forever?

Yes.

But why?

Because to do this for you, I have to be with you. Once we share physical space, the bond between guardian and charge is broken.

Guardian and charge?

The relationship between you and I.

Like a guardian angel?

Casper chuckles. An angel?

It makes sense. You helped me when I was caught by the Revengers and again when Trish was in trouble. What happens if I need you in the future?

That is why you must decide now. You can leave this place. You don't need to go into Beso de la Muerte. You must realize that what you hope to accomplish may not be possible.

How does he know what I hope to accomplish? I don't even know that.

Yes, you do. You hope to help your friend Culebra and have time left over to save Max.

A thrill of alarm races up my spine. Does Culebra need help? Does Max?

You believe that they do.

He's right, of course. My mind races into overdrive. Max is god only knows where. Culebra may be here and under a definite time constraint.

Is Culebra close?

Casper doesn't answer.

Maybe he doesn't need to. The fact that this barrier is here can mean only one thing-whatever the coven has planned for tonight has something to do with Beso de la Muerte. Whether Culebra is a willing participant or not, he took great pains to empty his camp and scare me away. There could only be one reason. He planned to try to stop her. Unsuccessfully, from the message that accompanied my hitting that wall. If Belinda Burke is as powerful a force as Williams thinks, what chance did one shape-shifter have against her and a coven of witches determined to open a gate to the underworld? My instinct is telling me I need to get into Beso de la Muerte. Culebra is smart and resourceful. He may have left a clue there to help me find him.

That is your decision?

It is not surprising that Casper knows the answer before I do. Yes.

Instantly, the air around me swirls and draws away, like the sea receding from a beach at low tide. The sensation is accompanied by a rushing sound, loud, aggressive, hostile in its intensity. I put my head down, fighting the urge to cover my ears, then my eyes, as I'm assaulted by a blinding white light. A rip appears in the fabric of the desert and fills with the light. Then, just as quickly, the light and sound fade. When I raise my eyes again, I'm no longer alone.

I blink. You're Casper?

He sniffs. That's not my name, you know. My name is Avatoar. And you don't have to look so surprised. What were you expecting ?

I don't know what I expected. I just know it's not what I see in front of me. Casper-or Avatoar-stands about three feet tall and has a bushy head of brilliant red hair. He has on a green jumpsuit that looks like it's made of silky parachute material. Perfect, I suppose, for jumping dimensions.

I know I'm staring but I was expecting Michael the Archangel and I got- Are you a leprechaun?

Again, he blows out an exasperated puff of air. Where would you get that idea ?

Maybe from the slightly oversized head on the diminutive body. Since he doesn't react to that, I have to assume he's no longer in my head and I can take a few seconds to check him out. His face is wrinkled but not unattractive. He has round blue eyes and a strong chin. His body is well proportioned, just small.

His mouth is curved in a frown.

Finished gawking?

I blink again and nod.

Then we should get to work.

I wait expectantly for him to tell me what to do.

He puts a hand on my shoulders and pulls me down to a kneeling position so that we're eye to eye.

This will hurt a little. But not for long. Try to relax.

That, of course, causes the opposite reaction. My shoulders tense, my body becomes rigid. What do you mean, this will hurt?

He doesn't respond. Avatoar's eyes are fixed on a point somewhere in the distance, just over my shoulder. I try to swivel my head to see what he does, but his grip is tight and the pressure of his fingers just at the base of my neck holds me immobile.

Then the pain creeps up.

When it begins, my first impulse is to fight. I slash at his arms, but for a little guy, his grip is mighty. I can't break his hold and I can't escape the blistering heat. It starts at my feet and works its way up. My skin is on fire. I'm being drawn into some kind of whirling, white-hot vortex. I feel Avatoar's hands but when I open my eyes, all I see is a blur of space. It's a Wizard of Oz tornado but Dorothy never looked like she was experiencing this kind of pain. I open my mouth to scream, but the intensity of the gale forces the scream back down my throat.

I'm trapped, I'm powerless and I'm being burned alive.