Free Retribution by Jeanne C. Stein

are. Then you can watch your friends die.”
    The hand flutters again and the bodyguard is released from the spell. He acts neither surprised nor shocked, but simply goes to the table, retrieves her jacket.
    Burke slips into it. “Have a nice day, Anna,” she says.
    I struggle against invisible bonds, powerless to stop them as they leave the restaurant. For another ten seconds, nothing happens. Then, the world returns to normal. People revive and resume whatever they were doing without the slightest notion of what happened. I hide the gun down by my side, look around. I appear to be the only one who feels slightly off-kilter, faintly nauseated at being suspended like a bug in amber.
    By the time I gather my wits and race for the exit, Belinda Burke is gone.

CHAPTER 14

    G RUDGINGLY, I GIVE THE DEVIL HER DUE. THE witch pulled off a good one.
    Shit.
    I’m looking up and down Prospect with no real hope of spying the limo and the sinking realization that it would make no difference if I did. By the time I retrieve my car, Belinda Burke will have vanished.
    I run back to the garage to get the Jag.
    Thoughts cascade through my head like white water over a dam. She knows about Frey. She knows about the amulet. Can she trace it back to the witches in Balboa Park?
    I’ve got to warn them.
    The first call I make is to Frey. He doesn’t answer. I try Culebra’s cell, hoping Sandra will pick up.
    Once again, there’s no answer.
    I disconnect and, fighting off the fear that they are both dead, call Williams. He does answer. Before I can ask, he tells me that he talked with Sandra a few minutes ago. Culebra is hanging on. I fill him in on what happened with Burke, including her threat against the witches. He assures me they are protected as long as they stay at the headquarters. He asks the obvious questions and I give him as full a description as I can of Burke’s new persona. He wants me to come in and give the description to a psychic artist who can render a sketch.
    There isn’t time.
    Now that I know Burke’s assumed the guise of someone else, my next task has to be to determine who that someone else is. And get to her fast.
    We ring off.
    I’m back on Prospect. Burke must know it was no coincidence, my appearing in the restaurant. She’s smart enough to know I probably followed her from the warehouse, which makes it safe to assume she won’t be going back there anytime soon.
    Which also makes the warehouse the logical place to start.
    I’m retracing my footsteps to National City. Worry about Culebra and Frey and sudden doubt about my choice to go back to the warehouse are unwelcome passengers in the car with me. What if I’m wrong and Burke is waiting for me at the warehouse? What protection do I have against her power? I was helpless in that restaurant.
    I’m suddenly aware that I’ve got the charm clutched in my fingers.
    This is my protection. The moment I feel its warning heat, I’ll know she’s near. This time, the moment I see her, I’ll shoot the bitch no matter where we are.
    The warehouse parking lot is still crowded. Trucks from a loading bay around the side come and go. I pull right up to the door and park in a visitor’s space.
    May as well.
    I check the .38 and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
    Quicker access.
    I touch the amulet.
    It’s cold.
    A gun and a charm.
    I’m not leaving anything to chance.
    A glass door opens into a reception area. Simple, utilitarian, no fancy furniture. Only an oversized metal desk behind which sits a woman with a computer monitor in front of her and a telephone headset attached to her ear. She’s in her twenties, stylishly dressed in a light wool pantsuit and silk blouse. She has dark hair and eyes. When she looks up at me and smiles a welcome I detect no threat. She’s human. That doesn’t mean she can’t be a witch. Or that Burke hasn’t assumed another disguise.
    I touch the amulet to be sure.
    Nothing.
    She’s not Burke and Burke must not be close.
    The