"The spirits are at work," Leah intoned, grinning mischievously.
"Don't start that," Bauer said.
"Did you move-" I began. "I mean, can you do things like that?"
Leah waved a cheese-topped cracker, scattering crumbs. "Nah. It would be fun, though. Telekinesis is limited to a half-demon's range of vision. If I can't see it, I can't move it. My powers aren't very precise either. If I tried lifting a pile of clothes-" She turned and looked at my bed. The folded blanket at the end levitated, floated over the side, and fell in a heap on the carpet. "Gravity takes over. I could throw it against the wall or toss it in the air, but when I let go, it would never fall nicely folded."
"So it's that random psychic energy thing, then?" I asked Bauer.
"They're back," Leah said in a high-pitched child's voice.
Bauer laughed, covering her cracker-filled mouth with one hand and wagging her free index finger at Leah. "Stop that." She turned to me. "That's what I meant. Leah's pet theory. She thinks we have a poltergeist."
"Poltergeist?" I repeated. "Don't tell me you built this place over an Indian burial ground. After three movies, you'd really think people would learn."
Leah laughed. "There, see? Thank you, Elena. Sondra hasn't even seen the first Poltergeist. All my pop culture references are lost on her."
"So you're kidding," I said. "About the poltergeist."
"Uh-uh."
"Don't get her started," Bauer said.
"You don't really believe in ghosts," I said.
"Sure," Leah said, grinning. "But I draw the line at werewolves. Seriously, though, how much do you know about poltergeists?"
"I walked out during the second movie and skipped the third. That's it."
"Well, I'm something of a self-taught expert. When I was in high school, I read everything I could find on poltergeists. Because of the similarities with my 'condition.' I wanted to know more about myself and my kind and figured maybe so-called poltergeists were really manifestations of telekinetic half-demons."
"Sounds plausible," I said.
"It does, until you learn more about it. Poltergeists typically appear around children approaching puberty. Half-demons don't come into their full powers until closer to adulthood. Poltergeists are also associated with noises and voices, which aren't part of my repertoire. Neither is stuff like rearranging furniture or neatly moving objects from one place to another, other marks of a poltergeist."
"We haven't heard any strange noises," Bauer said.
"But not all poltergeist manifestations involve sound. Everything else about these occurrences points to a poltergeist."
"A poltergeist who just happened to appear here?" I said. "Of all places?"
"It's not Savannah," Bauer said, slanting a warning look at Leah.
"The young witch?" I said.
"Just another theory," Leah said. "Savannah is at the perfect age, and with her powers, she'd be an ideal conduit, especially under these strained circumstances."
"You think she conjured up-"
"Oh, no, no," Leah said. "Savannah is a sweetheart. A total innocent, I'm sure. Now, her mother was a real piece of work, and I wouldn't have put anything past her, but I'm certain Savannah didn't inherit any of her darker powers."
"If," Bauer said. "And I repeat, if Savannah has caused some kind of poltergeist to materialize, which I doubt, I'm sure she isn't aware of it."
"Certainly," Leah said. "She probably can't even control it. There's been no evidence to the contrary… well, except for…"
Bauer sighed. "A few of the more alarming disturbances have revolved around Savannah. When she becomes upset, the activity increases."
"If that poor guard hadn't ducked…," Leah said. "But no, I still say it's beyond Savannah's control. More likely, her anger spurs the poltergeist to react. An unwitting emotional connection, though potentially, it could be quite dangerous if someone were to cross-"
"It's random psychic energy," Bauer said firmly. "Until Doctor Matasumi or I see anything to the contrary, that's the assumption."
The door opened.
"Yes," Bauer snapped, then turned to see Matasumi's assistant hovering in the doorway. "I'm sorry, Tess. What is it?"
"It's nearly four-thirty. Doctor Matasumi thought I should remind you-"
"Oh, yes. The conference call. I'm sorry. I'll be right with you. Could you please send the guards in to escort Leah back to her room?"
"Party's over," Leah said and chugged the rest of her wine.
After dinner, the voice I'd heard the night before called again. This time I was sure I was awake. Well, reasonably sure, at least. I still held out hopes that the whole wine and cheese party had been a nightmare.
"Who's there?" I said aloud.
"It's me, dear. Ruth."
I hurried to the hole I'd punched between my cell and the next, crouched, and peered through. No one was there.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"Across the hall. It's a ranged communication spell. You can speak to me normally and I'll hear you as if I were there in the room. Thank goodness I finally got in touch with you. I've been having the devil of a time. First the sedatives. Then the blocking field. Just when I figured out a way around that, they whisked me out of here because my white blood cell count was low. What do they expect at my age?"
"Blocking field?" I repeated.
"I'll explain. Sit down and make yourself comfortable, dear."
To ensure our privacy, Ruth cast a sensing spell that could detect anyone in the corridor. Useful things, spells. Not my cup of tea, but far more practical than I would have imagined.
Our captors had taken Ruth around the same time Bauer and Xavier had trapped me, so she hadn't known I'd been kidnapped, which meant she didn't know whether Jeremy and Clay had returned to the others or even if they knew what had happened to me. When I told her I hadn't been able to contact Jeremy, she was surprised to the point of shock, not that we couldn't make contact, but that any werewolf had telepathic abilities. We all have our stereotypes, I guess. Witches equaled mental power, werewolves equaled physical power, and never the twain shall meet.
"What happened when you tried to contact him?" she asked.
"I can't do that," I said. "He's the one with the powers. I have to wait for him to make contact."
"Did you try?" she asked.
"I wouldn't know how."
"You should try. It's very simple. Relax and pretend-Never mind. It won't work anyway."
"Why won't it work?"
"They've put up a blocking field. Have you met their spell-caster?"
I shook my head, realized she couldn't see the motion and said, "No. I've heard of him, though. Katzen, I think they called him."
"Isaac Katzen?"
"You know him?"
"I know of him. He was with one of the Cabals, I believe. Oh dear, I hope they aren't involved. That would be the devil of a problem. Sorcerer Cabals are-" She stopped. "Sorry, dear. Spell-casting business. You don't need to know anything about that."
"What about this Katzen guy? Do I need to know anything about him? Bauer says I'm not likely to run into him. How'd she put it? He doesn't associate with 'lower races'?"
A short chuckle. "That is most definitely a sorcerer. No, dear, I shouldn't think you'd have to worry about Isaac Katzen. Sorcerers have little use for non-spell-casters. Little use for witches, too. Sorcerers aren't male witches. Completely different race. Nasty bunch, I'm sad to say. No sense of themselves as part of something greater. An absolute absence of altruism. They'd never dream of using their powers to help-" A sigh and a chuckle. "Stop digressing, Ruth. Age, you know. It's not that the mind starts to wander; it's that it's so stuffed full of information that it's forever jumping off track and zipping down tangents."
"I don't mind."
"Time, my dear. Time."