The Rising by Kelley Armstrong Page B

in suits could be security—they were certainly big enough—but everyone else just looked ordinary. Until one of them took a two-way radio from his pocket and stepped away from the group, and I followed his gaze to see another “ordinary-looking guy” across the park, also on a radio.
    â€œWhy are they still here?” I said. “Almost everyone’s gone.”
    â€œYou’re not.” He swore under his breath. “They knew you’d come. They must have. They’re searching the park now.”
    â€œOkay, we knew that might happen. We’ll lie low until everyone’s gone.”
    We continued watching. Another car arrived and a woman got out. She looked as ordinary as the rest of them. Older, maybe in her fifties, with short graying hair. She wore a stylish jacket and slacks.
    Ash cursed and scrambled up.
    â€œWhat?” I said.
    â€œWitch.”
    I peered at the woman, who looked more like a prep school teacher. “How can you tell?”
    â€œBy the long black hair and pointed nose.” He shot me a look. “I recognize her, obviously. The St. Clouds only have one witch, as far as I know, and that’s her.”
    â€œOne witch? Are they rare?”
    â€œNo, it’s just that sorcerers don’t like working with them and vice versa.”
    â€œOkay, so . . .”
    â€œCabals have witches so they can use high-powered witch magic, like sensing spells.”
    I remembered a memo I’d seen about our escape. Calvin Antone had been asking for a werewolf and the Enwright witches to help track us.
    â€œAnd sensing spells do what exactly?” I said, pretty sure I didn’t want to hear the answer.
    â€œThey . . . sense.” He waved his hand and made a face, like this was a stupid question. “Like radar or heat detectors. The St. Clouds are going to wait until the park is clear of mourners, then have her start casting. When she does, we’re toast. The Nasts are probably here, too, with their witch. A joint effort to get you guys off the street.”
    â€œWe need to get—”
    I looked down. The second guy with the radio was heading our way. To our left a man and a woman pretending to be a couple strolled along, but I could see the radio stuffed in the guy’s pocket.
    â€œYeah,” Ash said. “Coming to your own memorial service? Really not a bright idea. We’re trapped in this tree, Maya. The guys can get away through those woods. Except they have no way to know what’s going on because we’re the ones who can see and we have no way of telling them.”
    â€œWe need to—”
    â€œWe’re trapped, don’t you get that? We can’t get down there without being spotted, and if we can’t get down, we’re going to get caught as soon as that witch casts her spell.”
    â€œAre you supposed to be helping? Because I thought that’s why you came. To help.”
    He answered with a scowl.
    â€œI’ll take that as a yes, though it’s hard to interpret, because glowering seems to be your all-purpose response. Telling me what won’t work doesn’t help.” I looked up. “We can climb higher. What’s the range on her spell?”
    â€œHow the hell would I know?”
    â€œHigher, then, if that’s the only option we have. But it doesn’t help the guys.”
    â€œYou can’t worry about the—”
    â€œYes, I can.”
    I leaned out as far as I dared, with the patrolling employees getting ever closer. I waved. No response from the thicket. I pulled a penny from my pocket and turned to Ash.
    â€œHow’s your aim?”
    â€œI’m the pitcher on my varsity baseball team and archery champ at my country club.”
    I threw the penny. It didn’t come close.
    Ash sighed and zinged one from behind me. It hit the right spot. So did a second. But the guys didn’t pop up.
    â€œThey’re gone,” Ash