Spell of Summoning Read Online Free PDF Page B

too?”
    “No. But, if we’re lucky, she’ll cast a spell to find who’s doing this.”
    For the first time, a tiny wisp of hope flared that this nightmare may end, even if Holden was a rookie. Becca checked her watch. 4:00 p.m. on a Monday.
    “Call her. Right now. I want to hear.”
    “Okay.” He fished out a number and dialed it into his cell phone.
    “Speaker, please.”
    He hit a button and held the phone in the air between them.
    “Happy Trails. This is Dani.”
    “Uh, hi. My name is Holden Clark.” A baby cried in the background. “Cole at The Repository gave me your number.”
    “Yeah, I’ve been expecting your call. Can you meet me tomorrow?”
    “Sure.”
    “Ten-thirty tomorrow morning. That’s nap time.” She gave them an address in Springfield and hung up.
    “Well, this day has exceeded all expectations.” Becca opened the door wide, letting in a slice of early evening sunlight. Buster barked a happy hello and tested the knot at his tether. “I assume I’ll see you in the morning. Let’s say nine thirty?”
    “Is a Wednesday night séance not good for you?” Holden asked. “I just think we should speed this along.”
    “Wednesday nights are wine nights.” She shrugged. “My friends and I hang out and drink wine at each other’s houses. It’s fine. I can miss one week.”
    “That sounds nice.”
    “It is.” She caught sight of her ruined cardigan and folded her arms to hide it. “I need this to all be finished by Saturday night. That’s my deadline.” If he was going to do something, then he should get on with it.
    “Why? What’s Saturday night?”
    “The Chamber of Commerce fundraiser.” Holden gave her a confused shake of his head. Becca explained, “It’s a big deal. All the city’s business owners will be there. Plus the mayor and his people. The sheriff and her people. Some bigwigs from Camp Lejeune and their wives.”
    “You want to go.”
    “I have to go. It’s a really important event in our community. And it’s good for my business.” Becca smiled half-heartedly. “And it’s casino night.”
    “I’ll do my best.”
    “Well. See you tomorrow.”
    Holden produced a pen from his back pocket and reached for her hand. She hesitated before offering. He turned it palm up, his roughened fingers raising goose bumps along her forearm, and wrote his phone number on her wrist in bold, black print.
    * * *
    The Prince—that’s what he was calling himself now—had been kneeling on the cold concrete floor so long his lower legs were numb, but he stayed there within his spell circle and chanted the same strength-sapping spell he’d been casting for three months.
    Way back when he’d first started, his spell circle had been a pencil outline surrounded by candles from Walmart. Eventually he’d drawn over it with crayon. Now it was a combination of blood and Sharpie and his candles were blessed by a witch in his cabal. And with each upgrade, his potential multiplied and his spells packed more punch.
    His spirit companion, Robert, an older African American man dressed in a fancy suit and tie from the roaring twenties, didn’t have a lot of power. His visage flickered, though they’d only been at it for two hours.
    The Prince stopped chanting. “Robert, you can’t wimp out on me already.”
    Robert scowled. “I’m giving you everything I have. Make do is what I say.”
    He’d been making do for months. It was time to finish the spell already. He couldn’t keep this up. He’d go insane. And his target, the uppity Miss Powell, was moving out of range soon. He’d have to choose another target and start all over if he couldn’t close the deal by May 1.
    “Fucking try harder!” he snapped.
    Robert disliked cursing. He vanished, taking his power with him and leaving the Prince kneeling on the floor alone and powerless.
    He pushed himself to his feet, and as the blood rushed back into his limbs they screamed with pain. He grabbed the wall for support and waited out