Wickedly Magical (Baba Yaga, #0.5)(21)
Barbara jerked her head up, almost spilling her drink. “What? Why?”
The pretty blonde had a pensive look as she gazed around the circle at the others. “We all know what it is like to grow up without families,” she said quietly. “With no parents or siblings, only an old witch far removed from her own humanity to raise us in a world apart from most normal people. I’m just saying that I understand how someone could want a family badly enough to go to some pretty drastic lengths to create one.”
“Understand, my ass,” Bella said. “I think Barbara was too easy on him. He played with people’s minds and was willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Personally, I would have let Chudo-Yudo eat him and be done with it.”
The others chuckled, used to Bella’s feisty temper, which was as fiery as her tumbled mass of curly red hair.
From his place by Barbara’s side, Chudo-Yudo snorted and said, “You tell ’em, sister.” Then gazed up at his companion with as pitiful a look as a two-hundred-pound pit bull can manage and added, “You know, if someone wanted to make it up to me, she could cook me up another s’more. Just sayin’.”
Barbara rolled her eyes, but put another couple of marshmallows on a stick and scooted close enough to hold them over the fire.
“I see what you mean, Beka,” she said, casting one of her rare smiles at the youngest Baba Yaga. “We miss out on a lot of so-called normal life by becoming Baba Yagas, but it’s not as though any of us would chose another life, now, would we?”
Beka shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Besides,” Bella said, her usual cheerful demeanor reasserting itself. “We do have family—we have each other.”
They all raised their glasses in a toast, when suddenly Barbara heard a distant chiming, like church bells on the wind. It grew louder, startling her so much she dropped her stick, marshmallows and all, into the fire, where it went up with a sugary sizzle.
“Hey!” Chudo-Yudo protested indignantly. “My s’more!”
“Did any of you hear that?” Barbara asked. She swiveled her head around slowly, eyes glazing over as she listened for a distant summons.
“Oh-oh,” Bella said, putting her wineglass down with resignation. “The party’s over. I recognize that look.”
“She’s getting The Call, isn’t she?” Beka said. “Barbara, are you okay?”
“Uh-huh,” Barbara answered distractedly.
“Damn,” Chudo-Yudo said. “I guess this means we’re not going back to California. I’ll go get the map.” He heaved himself up with a put-upon sigh and went into the Airstream for a moment, coming back with a large, now slightly damp, map of the United States in his mouth.
Beka and Bella exchanged sympathetic glances. A Baba Yaga’s tasks could come to her in various different ways. Sometimes, like with Ivan, a Baba “just happened” to be in the right place at the right time, or sometimes people were drawn to her once she arrived at wherever she was going. The universe just seemed to work that way, at least when Baba Yagas were involved.
But every once in a while, when there was something big afoot, a Baba would get The Call, a kind of subliminal mental pull towards whatever problem needed her special attention. No one else could hear it besides the Baba it was aimed at, and there was no ignoring it. When you were called, you went. It was as simple as that.
Chudo-Yudo dropped the map on the ground in front of Barbara and the other two women walked around the fire to look over her shoulder as she knelt and held her hand out over it, index finger moving slowly over its surface as a pointer. She closed her eyes to better concentrate on that inner voice, and when she opened them, she peered down to see where her finger had landed.
“Where the hell is that?” Chudo-Yudo said plaintively. “It looks like the middle of nowhere.”
“Someplace in upstate New York,” Bella said, peering at that section of the map with interest. “I suspect you’ll have to get closer to the area before you figure out which little Podunk town The Call is actually originating from.”
“Huh,” said Beka. “I haven’t heard of any major natural disasters or anything lately, have you? I mean, like an upsurge in tornado activity or something else that might need a Baba Yaga to get it back under control.”
“I don’t think I have either,” Bella agreed. “Barbara?”
Barbara didn’t answer, caught in the grip of a peculiar shivery sensation she’d never felt before.
“Barbara!” Bella said sharply. “What is it?”
“I don’t exactly know,” Barbara said. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded far away and dreamy. “This isn’t like any other Call I’ve ever had. It’s . . . different. Stronger. As if I can hear Fate saying my name out loud, leading me to a path that will change everything.”
“Change it how?” Beka asked.
“I don’t know,” Barbara said in a quiet voice. “I only know that after this, nothing will ever be the same again.”
Keep reading for an excerpt from
WICKEDLY DANGEROUS
Available now from Berkley Sensation
The crackle of the two-way radio barely impinged on Liam McClellan’s consciousness as he scanned the bushes on either side of his squad car for any sign of a missing seven-year-old girl. He’d been down this same narrow country road yesterday at dusk, but like the other searchers, he’d had to give up when darkness fell. Like the rest—volunteers from the nearby community and every cop who could be spared, whether on duty or off—he’d come back at dawn to pick up where he left off. Even though there was little hope of success, after six long days.