"Got it. What did you do?" Chris asked again.
"I hit him."
Chris raised an eyebrow and looked at the man on the floor. "With what?"
"Enough mental suggestion to make him sleep for a hundred years if I don't wake him up. But I can make him sit up and quack like a duck if you want." She looked at his wide-eyed expression and shrugged. "Guess not."
*She's a mind witch,* the necklace told him smugly. *That's why she can help me. And incidentally, why I authorized her as someone I can spill my non-existent guts to. Anyone wants to break into her head and steal secrets is just stupid.*
"I don't go into minds unless I'm invited. Verbally without aid of blackmail, alcohol, or drugs," Gillian explained. "I haven't been in yours. I do defend myself when threatened and my enchantments don't work. Questions?"
"What do we do with him now?"
Gillian raised an eyebrow and gave him a half smile. "We call the police and I resist the urge to plant a suggestion in the man's head about being fascinated with Hawaiian shirts."