Scapulimancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 7) Read online

  * * * *

  With an enraged cry, Wayne stormed Mulder, but the cop stopped him short with the barrel pointed at his chest.

  “Get into the fucking van, West.”

  “You knocked her out, you son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah.” Mulder snickered. “That was intentional.”

  Wayne gave him a cold, hard stare. “You don’t ever want me to get out of jail, because when I do, you’re going to pay for this.”

  Mulder looked uncomfortable for all of one second before he motioned with the gun at the door. “Let’s go, before I have to shoot you for obstruction of justice.”

  He wasn’t worth much to Sara dead or wounded. He lifted his handcuffed arms behind his back. “Let me pick her up.”

  “Just walk,” Mulder thundered. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Wayne made his way grudgingly to the van where Mulder locked him in.

  Mulder tapped on the window with the barrel of the gun. “If you move, I’ll shoot her. Got that?”

  “Loud and clear,” Wayne said through gritted teeth.

  The man Wayne had considered a fair law enforcer up until today, threw Sara’s limp body onto the back seat next to Wayne. This was going all wrong. A mesh partition separated him from the driver seat, or he’d twist his body around and throw his hands around Mulder’s meaty neck to strangle him.

  “What the fuck did you hit her for?” Wayne bit out as soon as Mulder had gotten in. “That’s called assault, asshole.”

  Mulder glared at him in the rearview mirror. “With what she’s capable of, I’m not taking any chances by driving her down to the station while she’s conscious.” His lips thinned. “I don’t want to become another snake victim.”

  Wayne shifted closer to Sara and wiggled his thigh under her head to act as cushion for the bumpy ride. There was no blood, but she’d wake up with a headache from hell. There was only one holding cell at the small police station in town. At least they’d be together until he could summon a lawyer.

  At the station, Wayne’s hope was quickly squashed. Mulder took his wallet and phone before directing him to the single cell where Dumile already waited. After Wayne was locked behind bars, he dragged an unconscious Sara down the hall.

  “Where are you taking her?” Wayne said through the bars.

  “The archive.” Mulder grunted as he lifted Sara’s body over his shoulder. “At least there are no windows to lure animals through.”

  The heavy metal door of the archive closed behind Mulder and Sara, shutting them out of Wayne’s vision. He turned to Dumile with a helplessness he hadn’t felt in six years.

  “Did they tell you why you’re here?” he asked.

  Dumile sat on the hard bench against the wall, regarding Wayne with a solemn look. “Mulder said I helped Sara with black magic to kill the hunter.”

  Wayne dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s bullshit.”

  “Of course it is. I’m a healer, not a witchdoctor. We’re being framed.”

  “By who?”

  “Thinus told Mulder about your threat to the Canadian hunter, that you said you’d kill him, and that Sara carries a cobra around in her bag. He said the cobra spat Nelis in the eyes, and that same cobra killed the hunter.”

  “That son of a bitch. If I get my hands on him…”

  “I think you should stop making threats.”

  “This isn’t an idle threat.”

  “Then maybe it’s not a bad thing you’re locked up.”

  “I’ll get us out of here.” He had to if he was going to help Sara.

  Giving up Sara like that was the most god-awful thing he’d ever done, Mariana’s murder excluded. He knew the town too well. People didn’t like black arts. They were suspicious and fearful of anything that had the sound of sangoma to it. Manipulating animals had sangoma written all over it. If he and the Therons could put two and two together, chances were by now everyone else had done the same. A woman could be saved once by a freak attack of insects, but not twice. For that alone, Clive would have her killed. She should’ve trusted him, damn her. She lied to him. She deceived him, but he should’ve listened to her, too, when she’d told him not to hand her over to the cops. He’d get to the bottom of this, if it were the last thing he did.

  When Mulder got back a short while later, Wayne gripped the bars and asked, “How is she?”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  What Mulder had done could cost him his job. The fact that he acted casual about it told Wayne there was more going down than he’d thought.

  “You know she can sue the pants off of you,” Wayne said.

  “The law doesn’t hold in her case.”

  His hold on the metal tightened. “What do you mean?”

  “Her kind has their own law. She’ll have to answer to the secret service or some major big shot from the government.”

  Suddenly, he feared what Sara had said was true. She wasn’t safe here.

  “I want my phone call,” Wayne said.

  Mulder snorted, but took a cell phone from his pocket and handed it to Wayne through the bars. “You’ve got five minutes.”

  There was only one person he could turn to. He dialed Bella’s number. From the wide stance Mulder took, it was clear he wasn’t going to give Wayne privacy.

  “West?” Bella said, sounding alarmed. “I tried to call you like ten times. Christian told me what happened.”

  He glanced at Mulder and turned his back on the officer. “I need your help. I don’t have much time.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In jail with Dumile.”

  “In jail?” she cried with a shriek. “What for?”

  “Accomplices for Manfred’s murder.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “I’ll explain later. I need you to call that fancy lawyer of yours.”

  “The one you refused for your trial?”

  “Is he still any good?”

  “The best.”

  “Good. I need him to arrange bail.”

  “You didn’t want to use him before.”

  “I couldn’t afford him before.”

  “Can you now?”

  “I’ll make a plan.”

  “West, I can—”

  “I said I’d make a plan.” He didn’t want Bella’s money. Not then and not now.

  “Why do you want him now when you refused like a pigheaded bastard before?”

  He lowered his voice. “There wasn’t Sara before.”

  “West…” She paused. “I like Sara. You know I do.”

  “But?”

  “I saw that snake in her house with my own two eyes. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Time’s up,” Mulder called.

  “I’ve got to go. Just get me the lawyer, will you?”

  “Of course. Do you need anything else?”

  “To get out of here.” He wasn’t sure he’d make another night in jail.

  Mulder wiggled his fat arm through the bar. “Hand it over, West.”

  Wayne cut the call and handed the phone back to the cop. “You need to check on her.” He motioned toward the archive room.

  Mulder shook his head. “I’m not going in there when she’s conscious.”

  “Do you realize how absurd that sounds? You can’t leave her in there forever.”

  “Someone from government is already on his way. He’ll deal with her. I was told to stay put until he gets here.”

  “Who?”

  Mulder didn’t answer. He walked to the front office and closed the door behind him.

  Wayne regarded the door with his fists balled at his sides. “Does this sound right to you?” he asked Dumile.

  “There’s something strange going on here.”

  “You bet your ass. Sara tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen.” He said more to himself than to Dumile, “If I’m going to help her, I have to get out of this cell.”

  A solemn look passed over Dumile’s features.
/>   Wayne wiped a hand over his brow. “If anything happens to Sara…”

  “It’s a bit late for that.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know?”

  “You could’ve had faith.”

  “She could’ve told me.”

  Dumile shook his head. “She’s a scapulimancist. If people know, they will kill her.”

  “Stop saying that, for fuck’s sake.”

  “You said it yourself.”

  He lifted his head skyward and started pacing the floor. “How did you know?”

  Dumile shrugged. “I pay attention. The forest went quiet around her.”

  He should’ve paid better attention. Regret always came too late.

  * * * *

  Bella’s lawyer was in Cape Town, but it took him only two hours to get there. The man was tall and lean with black hair combed to perfection. Dressed in a well-fitting, dark suit and fancy tie, he exuded wealth and confidence. He walked into the police station carrying a briefcase and a paper cup. Judging by the smell, it was coffee.

  “Open,” he said to Mulder with authority in his voice.

  Mulder unlocked the cell to let him in and secured it once he was seated on the single chair facing Wayne and Dumile.

  The lawyer turned to Mulder. “Thank you, constable Mulder. I’ll have some privacy now.”

  Mulder chuckled, but he left the room.

  Bella’s lawyer handed Wayne the coffee. “Thought you might need this.”

  “Thanks.” Wayne gave it to Dumile.

  The lawyer shrugged and held out a hand. “Eugene Meyer.”

  “Call me West. Thanks for coming. How did you get here so fast?”

  “Private plane.” He took a smartphone from his pocket and activated the recorder. “Tell me everything.” Next, he clipped open the briefcase and extracted a file. “Bella already brought me up to speed with your history, and I familiarized myself with your case and previous conviction on the plane.” He looked up from shuffling papers. “I’m going to be honest. It doesn’t look good.”

  “I…” Wayne looked at Dumile. “We had nothing to do with the murder, if it was murder. It could’ve been an accident.”

  “Not according to Thinus Theron’s testimony.”

  “What did the idiot say?”

  “According to Mr. Theron, the doors and windows of the room where the hunters resided were sealed. The rest of the hunting party concurred.”

  “How did you get that information so fast?” Wayne asked.

  “That’s why I’m good at my job.”

  Eugene had informants. Wayne didn’t like it. It sounded too much like a different kind of crime, altogether, having spies on the force, not that he could stake a claim on pure morals.

  “Before I can agree to take on your case,” Eugene said, “we have to talk about my fee.”

  “I’ll pay whatever you ask.”

  “Fifty grand. Upfront. Non-refundable. One hundred if you plead guilty and we strike a deal, and two hundred if you plead not guilty and we go to trial.”

  Wayne swallowed. “You don’t joke around.”

  “No time for jokes in my profession, Mr. West.” Eugene’s smile was humorless.

  “For that extortionate amount, will you get us bail?”

  “Without doubt. It will be ten grand for your friend, and ninety for you, since you have a record.”

  Three hundred grand. He wiped a hand over his brow.

  “Oh, yes, and my call-out fee is sixty, including expenses.”

  That probably covered the fuel of his private plane.

  “Bella is a good friend,” Eugene continued. “If you can’t afford to hire me–”

  “I’m not taking Bella’s money,” Wayne said.

  “From what I’ve gathered by studying your financial records, if you don’t accept Bella’s help, you can’t afford me.” Eugene switched off his phone and closed his briefcase.

  “There is a way,” Wayne said.

  Eugene lifted a brow, waiting for Wayne to continue.

  “You have to sell my land,” Wayne said in a gruff voice.

  Dumile stilled on the bench next to him. “Don’t do it, West.”

  “Quiet, old man.”

  Eugene reached for a file. “If you’re referring to the property registered in your name, there’s a government land reclaim issued on that land. You can’t sell it.”

  “I can if the indigenous tribe denounced it.”

  Eugene looked at Dumile with renewed interest. “Did they?”

  Wayne took the piece of paper Dumile had signed from his pocket and handed it over. Eugene studied it for a while, his face dispassionate.

  “In that case, selling is legal,” Eugene said, “but it’ll take time to find a buyer for such a valuable piece of land, and I’m not in the property business.”

  “I already have a buyer, and you can take commission on the sale.”

  Eugene regarded him for a moment, seeming to weigh his words. Finally, he said, “You have yourself a deal. Who is your buyer?”

  Dumile grabbed his arm. “West, don’t.”

  He ignored his father-in-law. This was for Sara. He wasn’t going to let her rot in jail just because he’d made a mistake of trusting Mulder. “Clive Theron.”

  Eugene nodded. “I’ll look him up.”

  “Transfers take time. How long before you can get us out?”

  “If he buys, I’ll put down the bail money myself. You can pay me back when the deal goes through. With interest, of course.”

  “What about Sara?”

  “I’m afraid my hands are chopped off where Ms. Graham is concerned.”

  Wayne’s body tensed. “How so?”

  “There’s a whole different set of rules for her kind, and laws I can’t even begin to comprehend. Neither should you. It’ll only put your life in danger.”

  “I want her out,” Wayne said through clenched teeth.

  “Someone from government is already on the way. I’m sorry, but I have no authority in her case.”

  “Why the hell not? She has rights, like everyone else.”

  “She’s not human, Mr. West. She’s … supernatural.” He hesitated. “I already have a defense worked out. If you and your friend want to walk free, we’re going to have to hold Ms. Graham solely accountable.”

  “No.” Wayne jumped up, towering over Eugene. “I’m not using Sara so I can walk free.”

  “It’s the only way. I don’t know if you realize, but Ms. Graham doesn’t stand a chance. Once the government representative gets here, no one will ever see her again. The best you can do is cut the ties and save yourself.”

  Like hell. Wayne boiled with rage, but for now he kept it inside. He knew when he was fighting a losing battle. Eugene wasn’t going to give. Once he was free, he’d figured out a way of helping Sara, even if he had to break her out of prison. He’d rather be on the run for the rest of his life than testify against her to save his own ass.

  Eugene got to his feet. “I’ll be in touch soon. Don’t speak to anyone but me.”

  He shook both men’s hands before he called for Mulder to let him out.

  “Mulder,” Wayne said when the lawyer was gone, “I beg you, go check on her.”

  Mulder didn’t look at Wayne as he shook his head.

  “You’re chicken shit,” Wayne said, but the bait to lure Mulder into action didn’t work. He closed the door of the office without a word.

  Wayne continued to pace the room, waiting. He hated waiting. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand it a minute longer, the door opened, and Bella’s face appeared around the frame.

  “West!” She rushed to the cell, giving him a pained look before nodding in Dumile’s direction.

  “Hey.” He made an effort to smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mulder let me in.”

  “I’m not going to ask how you managed that.”

  She winked. “Small town and all that.”

  “Thanks for arra
nging your lawyer.”

  “I called to see how it went. He told me.”

  “Told you what?”

  She made an angry face. “Don’t play dumb with me. You’ll sell your land, but you won’t take my money? Is it because it’s prostitution money?”

  “Bella.” He sighed. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s more money than what your house is worth.”

  “My house is worth over a million,” she said, her tone indignant.

  “Whatever. I’m still a man, and a man has his pride.”

  She shook her blonde hair. “I won’t let you sell out to Theron. I’m paying Eugene, and that’s that.”

  “Don’t you dare meddle in my business.”

  “It’s not like you can do anything about it.” She jutted her chin toward the bars.

  “I’ll take the skin off your backside if you pay my lawyer.”

  “I’ll just have to take my chances, then.” She turned to leave.

  “Bella!”

  “What?” she said from over her shoulder.

  “Don’t get involved. Call Christian. Get away until this ugly business is over.”

  She stopped and faced him again. “Do you think she did it?”

  He considered her question for a while. “When I was convicted, did you think I’d done it?”

  She looked at Dumile, her gaze sorrowful. “No.” Her eyes found Wayne again. “I never believed it.”

  Bella had given him a lot more credit than he’d given Sara. He was just angry that she’d lied to him, that she hadn’t trusted him enough to confide in him and tell him what she was. If she’d slept with him without being honest, it could only mean she wasn’t serious about them. She’d never intended for the sex to go anywhere, and that was the part that hurt most. He’d been thinking a ring and a bigger house with a baby or two, and God only knows what she’d been thinking. A roll in the sack. Maybe that was all there was to it for her. Maybe the tattoos weren’t the sign he took them for, but only an impulsive mistake.

  “I saw that snake in her house, West.”

  “What were you doing in her house?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “I don’t know what to think, but Sara’s not like that.”

  Bella nodded. “I think you’re right.” She glanced at the door. “I have to go. Mulder said I could only have five minutes, and I don’t want to take liberties or I may not be showered with special favors again.”