Heart of the Witch Read Online Free Page A

questions at her. She'd regretted answering the call the moment she heard his voice.
    "No, I haven't thought of anything else. No, you can't drive up and see me. It won't do any good. Yes, I heard they figured out he abducted women from all over the metro area and took them to the cabin in Cotton. No, I have no idea why he chose me." But I bet he regrets it almost as much as I do .
    Whitehall said good-bye after extracting a promise from her that she'd call if she thought of anything. He also issued a warning that he wasn't giving up.
    She replaced the receiver and sighed. Normally she enjoyed the solitude of her lake house, but tonight loneliness pervaded her soul. Dusk crowded the windows, bringing with it her favorite time of day: nightfall, when her secret seemed safer. Though lately nothing felt safe.
    Afghans, handmade by the grandmother she barely remembered, adorned the black leather furniture, vivid splashes of bright color among the mostly black and red decor. The flames from several candles danced in the shadowy room, giving off the warm scent of cinnamon. The candles were the only source of light. Her upstairs bedroom loft, an open floor above the living area, was steeped in darkness. A red sheer curtain billowed with the cool breeze drifting in through the open window.
    Ravyn curled her bare feet beneath her in the black papasan chair. Resting her head back, she closed her eyes. The Tin Man's face appeared on the inside of her eyelids. Her eyes snapped open and the image disappeared.
    You have to stop him before he talks to someone.
    Once again she felt the pain of hot steel on her flesh, and she shuddered. No. She couldn't face him again. But if she did, if she ever had the chance… Rage sank deep and sharp, a knife in her heart. The bastard should pay—not only for what he'd done to her but also for what he'd done to the others.
    She hadn't taken much notice of the newspaper articles about the murders. Not beforehand. She seldom concerned herself with anything outside the small scope of her own world. But now she recalled the stories. The horrible things he'd done to those women.
    Maybe he'd stop now. After what she'd done to him, how could he ever kidnap a young girl again? Also, there was a chance he had died from his injuries. But if that was true, she'd broken a law of her people: under no circumstances shall any member of the coven willfully take the life of another, be they witch or mortal.
    A shudder ran through her. The truth was, he wasn't dead. She could feel him out there. Could sense his evil. The evil I allowed to escape .
    I could go back, touch the room he held me in, see what kind of vibes I get.
    But she couldn't do that. She needed to actually touch the person, to connect with their heart.
    Sometimes it works without touching them. Sometimes you can just touch where they've been…
    Needing a distraction from these tormenting thoughts, Ravyn uncurled her legs and stood. She opened the back door and stepped outside, breathing deeply of the fresh air. She walked across the yard, her bare feet sinking into the lush, damp lawn. Crickets chirped, harmonizing with the nearby sounds of laughter and rock music from late-season campers. They were probably on the other side of the lake, but sound carried quite a distance across the water.
    Ravyn stood at the back of her property and stared out over the lake. The moon shone behind a narrow bank of clouds, a starkly white orb in a blanket of black. Large oak trees bent toward the water, the leaves glinting from the reflection of moonlight. She closed her eyes, lifted her arms to the heavens. The slow steady rhythm of her heartbeat calmed her mind.
    An owl hooted, barely registering on her consciousness. A breeze pushed from the lake, caressing her skin. She could smell a campfire from across the way, mingling with the scent of moist earth. Behind that pleasant smell was the odor of something dead. She ignored it, concentrating instead on the healing