Free Witch Hunt by S.M. Reine Page B

powder? Poison ivy?”
    “Why would I—what’s going on?”
    “I just need something magical!”
    Grudgingly, Stonecrow squirmed onto her side, rolling her hip to offer her back pocket to me. No, not her pocket—it was empty, flat and smooth against her butt. “Underwear. Left side.” She whispered so quietly I could barely hear her.
    Whoa. Okay.
    I tried not to touch her too much as I wiggled a plastic bag out from under the elastic band of her underwear. Black lace. Damn. She’d tucked the bag inside the folded-over hem, concealing a couple grams of a gray powder that looked a lot like what she had used to fuck up my face.
    “I thought you were all out,” I hissed.
    She sat back. “I lied.”
    Joey glanced at me over his shoulder, still talking on the phone, and I palmed the baggie.
    Rubbing my thumb on the plastic, I tried to guess what was inside. Definitely some salt. Looked like a little grave dirt—I used it in many of my poultices, so I was pretty sure about that one. Maybe some nettle, too. It was only lightly enchanted.
    It would have to be enough.
    “Where are you taking us?” I asked, louder than before, making sure I’d be heard over the engine.
    “I’m going to do it now,” Eduardo said. He wasn’t speaking to me.
    “Not until we’re out of town,” Joey said. “Follow the plan.”
    The plan . Between our eastward travels and their mutterings, I was not feeling good about this “plan.”
    I knew the Union had more outposts than the OPA did. We were mostly a bureaucratic affair—the brain to the Union’s body. They had fingers in everything, everywhere. For all I knew, they had a hidden base out this way and we were being sent there. But it wasn’t a base I knew.
    If they were taking me somewhere that I didn’t have high enough clearance to see, then chances were good I wasn’t meant to come back.
    Eduardo and Joey were focused away from us again. I opened the bag and carefully poured the gray dust in a tiny circle on the seat between Stonecrow and me. Her eyes widened, anger flashing over her face. She thought I was wasting it. In fact, I was casting the smallest fucking circle of power ever. Wondered if I might break a world record.
    I poked the dust toward the north, south, east, west. The highway was straight as far as I could see—had to finish casting the spell before we hit a turn and messed up the orientation.
    Pouring the last of the dust in the center, I snapped my fingers and closed the circle.
    The magical juice inside was small enough that I didn’t even sneeze. It barely even tickled.
    “With earth and stone, I call strength,” I whispered under my breath, pushing all of my meager energy into the circle, building its force with my own spirit. “With salt and…uh…”
    “Nettle,” Stonecrow said.
    My guess had been right. Nice. “With salt and nettle, I call strength. With the desert around us, I call strength.” Yeah, I know, it was stupid, but I’m not a poet. I don’t get fancy with my words.
    But it was enough. I could see faint, coppery sparks of magic igniting within the powder.
    Strength spells were one of my only specialties. Like the poultices I kept by the bed to juice up my muscles. Even a big guy can use a small edge when all of his foes are supernatural. I’d been making them daily, like protein shakes, for years. And that was probably the only reason my tiny, miserable circle of power was actually working, infusing the dust in the center with energy.
    What else could I use against Eduardo and Joey? I needed something.
    My mind touched on Domingo. The kind of shit he used to pull in high school while gambling. Luck spells.
    “With the wind and sun, grant me luck,” I added, and I blew gently on the dust, focusing every ounce of my concentration on my brother.
    Gold sparks. Copper sparks.
    Pretty pathetic magic right there.
    And I was out of time. There was a bend in the road coming up, but Eduardo was signaling and slowing the car, suggesting