The Witch's Initiation

When the vibrations faded, she focused her attention on the girl, whose gray eyes were wide, her hands shaking. “You can’t let Zoe know we talked.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Shelby. Shelby Cramer.”

“Why all the secrecy? Why didn’t you just talk to me in the corridor?”

Shelby shook her head, her face pale. “Zoe can’t know.”

“Why? Will she boot you out of the sorority?”

The girl nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Something like that.”

“So, spill. What’s so important you can’t say it in front of the sorority prez?”

Shelby’s hands twisted together and she couldn’t meet Deme’s eyes. “It’s just…well…” She sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. “Just be careful, will you? Zoe can be a real force to be reckoned with when she decides she doesn’t like you.”

Deme smiled. “I can handle Zoe. Question is, can you?”

Shelby’s eyes swam with unshed tears. “No.”

A knock sounded on Shelby’s door and her eyes rounded. “You have to hide,” she whispered, grabbing Deme’s arm and hauling her with surprising strength toward the closet.

Because the girl was obviously petrified of being discovered harboring the new R.A., Deme allowed her to shove her into the closet and close the door.

The door to the room squeaked open.

“Shelby, have you seen the new R.A.?” Zoe asked.

“No,” Shelby’s voice quavered.

“Just remember, part of initiation into the Gamma Omegas is your vow of silence.”

“I remember,” Shelby said, her voice so soft Deme wouldn’t have heard if sounds didn’t echo so well off the linoleum tiles.

“Now that you’re one of us, you don’t want to go back, do you?”

For a second, Shelby hesitated, then she answered, “No, of course not. Who would?”

“Exactly. No one wants to go back. Nobody can.”

Silence followed.

“Well, if you see the R.A., let me know what she says and does.”

“I will,” Shelby responded.

The door squeaked open and closed again. The room was silent except for the soft vibrations Deme could feel through her shoes, vibrations caused by bare feet on hard floors. The closet door opened.

Deme blinked as she stepped from the dark closet into the brightly lit room. “What was all that about?” she added softly.

Shelby shook her head. “Nothing. It was a mistake to bring you in here.”

“No, it wasn’t. You obviously had something you wanted to tell me.”

“No. It’s not important. You have to go now.” She gathered her toothbrush and a hand towel and opened the door, peering out into the hall.

“Shelby, you can trust me. I’d never tell Zoe anything you told me in confidence.”

“I have nothing to say.” She held the door and motioned for Deme to leave. Once Deme stepped out into the corridor, Shelby followed and closed the door behind them, then hurried toward the bathroom.

Deme retraced her footsteps to the R.A.’s room, wondering what had just happened, determined to get a background check on Zoe Adams. If anyone was crazy enough to make off with a coed, Zoe would be top of her list.

Back at the campus, Cal parked his motorcycle outside the Gamma Omega dorm. Despite his determination to remain focused on the case, he couldn’t help the way his pulse raced at the thought of seeing Deme again. He called himself all kinds of fool for letting her influence him in any way.

She was like an accident. A hit-and-run ready for a repeat performance where he was concerned. Only this time he’d be ready. He wouldn’t let her leave him scratching his head, wondering what the heck he’d said or done wrong.

He took the steps in the stairwell two at a time to the second floor, where Brigid said Deme’s room was. He’d told her he’d be there at six o’clock to fill her in on what he’d learned that day and vice versa.

Question was, would she be there? Now that she knew she’d be working this case with him, would she bother to show up?

Since the missing person was her sister, Cal figured she would. Deme struck him as someone dedicated to her family, even if she wasn’t dedicated to her lover.

Outside the door marked R.A., he raised his fist to knock.

“Don’t bother, I’m here.” Deme’s voice caught him off guard, sending a wave of heat through his body. When he turned, he couldn’t stop the way his groin tightened at the way she looked.

Her red hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and the V of her button-down cotton blouse exposed the rounded swells of her breasts. Breasts he’d tasted, massaged and caressed long into the nights they’d shared.

Damn, this assignment was going to be a lot harder than he’d anticipated. Tamping down his libido, he stepped to the side as she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket and opened the door.

She walked in without looking back, holding the door just long enough for him to step through.

Once inside, she shut the door and walked several steps away, putting as much distance between them as the tiny room allowed. She leaned against the windowsill overlooking a garden and asked, “What have you found out?”

In the hallway, she’d been a turn-on. Inside the tight confines of the R.A.’s small room, her nearness sparked a lot more flames than even Cal could predict. He tugged the zipper of his leather jacket down, opening it to let in cooler air. Anything to lessen the heat rising inside. “There have been more incidents than just your sister’s disappearance.”

Deme’s eyebrows rose. Her gaze captured his. “What kind of incidents?”

“Two cases of attempted rape, two cases of attempted suicide and one other missing person besides your sister.” He glanced around the room. “Could you turn the thermostat down? It’s hellacious hot in here.” He stripped his jacket from his shoulders and slung it over a chair.

Her gaze shifted from his eyes downward over his shoulders and chest, the heat in the room rising the lower she went. “I haven’t touched the thermostat. It was on seventy when I left the room a while ago.” She crossed to the device on the wall beside him and studied the box. “Still seventy. Must be you.” Her eyes slid sideways.

“No, I think it’s you.” Cal didn’t know what came over him. All he knew was that he had to have his hands on her. He grabbed Deme and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her hands rested flat against his chest, barely applying any pressure as though she was torn between dragging him close or pushing him away. “We don’t have to pretend in here. There’s no one watching.”

“Who’s pretending?” His hands slipped lower, circling her hips, slamming her against the hard ridge of his erection. “Can’t you feel it?”