Friends without Benefits (Rise of the Discordant Book 4)
Page 13
“But that’s preposterous,” I said with a little too much bluster. “I mean, you and I both know that souls are fl-”
“Yeah,” he cut me off with a nod. “I never said it was well thought out or rational. And well, both Myrna and Bogie pointed out that I’ve been acting like an ass for the last month, so when you dropped the bomb on me, I… God, this is so stupid,” he said with a puff of exasperation. “I… all I could think about was the fact that I was a woman.”
His admission threw me, but I could not fault him for his actions. Sheepishly, I had to admit that if the roles were reversed, I’d likely have the same response. As it was, I was well aware that my own gruff persona was more of an act than I’d ever fully admit. Although, given the situation, perhaps it was in everyone’s best interest if we both dropped our acts.
“Seth.”
Even though I’d said his name quietly, he jumped.
“You, that is, Sarah,” I fumbled. Saying out loud what I’d long since reconciled in my mind was a lot tougher than I’d expected. “Sarah always said that my size, my physical strength, was wasted on me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She, that is, you…” Lord, was that ever confusing. “…were poking fun at me, but there’s a lot of truth in the jest. Imposing I may be, but I was never the strong one. That was you. Always you and… Seth… you’re still…”
I felt an unfamiliar heat rising and turned away. This was more difficult than I’d expected. Granted, after three hundred years of keeping my emotions locked away in some long forgotten part of my being, I should not have expected anything to be easy.
“I um…” He cleared his throat and turned away just as I turned back. “I had Nai soul gaze me.”
“Oh?”
Well now, that, I had not expected. Or thought of, for that matter. After she’d done it of her own accord, and I impressed upon her the importance of keeping what she found to herself, I never thought to ask if she saw anything beyond the last Cycle.
“It seems I uh… That is, you seem to get into tr-”
Seth’s words were drowned out as the cellar door opened again and a herd of elephants that looked suspiciously like Donna stomped down the stairs.
“Oh good, you’re both hee…uh… hey ho! Um…am I interrupting something?”
“What? No, you’re…we’re…” Seth stammered.
“Is everything okay, Donna?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. Of all the moments to interrupt, she had to choose this one.
“Oh yeah,” she said, blinking at the abrupt shift. “I need your help. Both of you,” she said, turning to me as well. “We’re going to summon my dad.”
Chapter 10
The Parent Trap
By the time Betty and Louise got home from work, mom and I had made a list of all of the ingredients and items we would need to perform the summons. To call it complicated was an understatement.
Even though we had a perfectly good glade behind the house, it was still within the residential boundaries of town, so we gathered up everything we already had and brought it over to mom’s. We had no idea what to expect and with a spell this complicated, it wasn’t likely that we’d be able to shield as well. The woods behind mom’s place were far enough from civilization that we didn’t have to worry about attracting attention.
I’d expected mom to bust out her usual iced tea, but she shocked me by instead going to the cabinet over the sink and pulling down a bottle of wine. She shook her head at my raised eyebrows and rummaged around the junk drawer for a corkscrew.
“We’ve still got a lot of work to do,” I reminded her.
“Which is why I am going to need something stronger than tea, but weaker than the straight vodka I daresay I’d rather have right now,” she noted as she poured four glasses. “Let me see the list again.”
I handed it over and she skimmed past the first items that we’d already accumulated, frowning when she reached the one seemingly impossible item. The one thing we would need before we could go forward with the plan. Calling dad over would not actually be terribly difficult once all of the pieces were in place. Keeping him here was another. We needed a proper vessel. Unfortunately, because morphaels did not possess people, the usual vessels were useless. We needed something that would draw his attention.
“So, let me get this straight,” Louise said, trying to understand what it was that we were looking for. “It needs to be attractive and human shaped? So like a statue?”
“A statue would be best, but you’ll want something you can control. Metal is out,” mom explained.
“There’s the statue of that guy in the park,” Betty suggested. “It’s made of stone, so it should work.”
“Stone is too hard to control,” I reminded her and tried to figure out what statue she was talking about. After a moment, I broke out into a fit of laughter. “Wait, are you talking about the statue of Mark Twain?”
“I think so. The older guy with the crazy hair? What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” I said between fits and gasps.
“Betty, you have some weird tastes,” Louise quipped.
“What? He’s not bad looking for an older gentleman.”
“You can’t think in terms of age, Betty,” mom explained. “He may be older even than I am, but as an ageless and extremely vain Discordant, Fa Be’yoh will not possess a body that is anything less than a Greek sculpture of athletic grace.”
“Greek sculpture! That’s it!” A plan was formulating. A wicked plan. I thought about those Greek statues. Specifically, what happened to them when the Holy Roman Empire got their hands on ‘em. I turned my grin to mom. “How much clay do you have?”
Mom stared at me for a second before the spark of understanding lit in her eyes. “Tell me you aren’t thinking about sculpting a golem.” Instead of answering, I simply raised my eyebrows. “You’re serious?” she asked, sighing when I nodded. “Fine, but we can’t use my clay. For one, it’s too expensive to waste and two, it’s been processed to remove impurities. It is no longer tethered to the earth. Come out back. I have an idea.”
We followed mom as she carefully picked her way among the seemingly infinite number of half-finished projects that turned the backyard into a minefield. Not that I had much room to talk since our backyard wasn’t much better with all of my car and bike parts lying around. Still, retired or not, I had to wonder where the woman got the time to work on this stuff. There were literally hundreds of pots, bowls, vases, and sculptures. You name it, mom made it.
Louise and Betty, of course, had to stop and marvel over nearly every damned piece, which fed right into mom’s ego. Though she would never admit it, I know she was disappointed when I didn’t follow in her creative footsteps, so I let them feed her self-esteem for a little while. Besides, I needed her to be at the top of her creative game for this piece. But after a good ten minutes had passed and we’d barely walked three feet, I had to start reminding them of why we were out here.
Mom opened the garden gate and led us down a well-worn path into the woods. About a quarter mile in was a clearing that was not unlike the glade behind our home. Mom tried to stifle a giggle as each of us witches immediately turned to the left, intending to complete a single, clockwise rotation as we always did upon entering our own glade. I stopped as soon as I heard the awed gasps coming from the Woods girls. I’d forgotten that they’d never been back here and admittedly, it was pretty awe-inspiring.
Ringing the clearing were moss covered trees that mom had carved into the shape of beautiful dryads. She had tried once to explain to me about the technique she used, which kept the trees alive, healthy, and thriving despite the alterations, but along with creativity, a green thumb was yet another of mom’s traits that managed to elude me.
Betty seemed to get it though, because as mom explained the process to her, she reached out and allowed some of the moss to creep over her hand. That was freaky enough, but with a flick of her wrist, the bit of moss slit
hered up her arm and took refuge in the crazy mass of curls on her head.
“This is creep moss,” she said, noting my weirded out expression. I looked to Louise for an explanation, but all she did was shrug her shoulders. At least I wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand creative types. “For stealth? Really? Am I the only one who makes potions anymore?”
“Pretty much,” I admitted, looking to Louise who confirmed with a nod. Betty just rolled her eyes and continued into the clearing, where mom was already crouched down and digging around in the dirt.
“The ground is good,” she said, taking up a handful of mud. The number of trees in the area prevented mom’s clearing from becoming the saturated mud pit that our glade could become, but the ground was still quite squishy. Looking up at the darkening sky, she added, “I’m not going to have much daylight to work with, though.”
“I’ve got some heavy duty work lamps and a generator in my trunk,” I offered. “I can run back and get those pretty fast. Do you want me to go grab the others? I’m thinking we should probably perform the spell tonight.”
“I’d appreciate the light, but it might be in everyone’s best interest to wait on alerting the others until I’m finished creating a suitable golem.”
“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug and jogged back to where the Beast was parked.
Though when I returned a few minutes later, I realized why she asked me to wait on gathering everyone else. The spell we were going to attempt required a connection to the earth. As earth witches, that bond was ever-present for Betty, Louise, and me. For mom, the bond required a direct connection with the earth. In other words, she had to get naked. Besides that, creating a life-sized man out of mud appeared to be messy business, so removing her clothing also served a practical purpose. While this was no biggie for us (witches are totally used to ritualistic nudity) I about burst at the thought of Harry or Desmond seeing mom dressed in nothing more than strategically placed mud splatters.
While mom worked, the rest of us began putting items into place. In a way, it was a good thing mom’s clearing was twice the size of ours. We were going to need a holy fire and room for the entire mystic community to maneuver. Though I did worry that the binding cord I’d grabbed from our altar might not be long enough.
I was just laying out the foundation for the altar when mom announced that she was going to hose herself off. I took one last look around to make sure there wasn’t anything else that we were missing and heard a gasp.
“Oh wow!”
I turned to see the girls staring at mom’s creation in awe. Louise’s exclamation echoed my own thoughts. I had to admit, for as much as I didn’t understand art, I was impressed. Using only her hands and what the earth had to offer, mom sculpted a near perfect replica of a man. He stood an impressive six feet in height. Moss and leaves were incorporated to give his features a life-like quality. Were it not about to be used to trap the essence of my father, mom could have easily sold this piece for a pretty penny.
“It’s amazing,” Betty said with reverence. “The detail is so fine, I half expect him to come alive without any ritual.”
“There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” Louise said, cocking her head to the side. “I know Myrna said he had to be attractive, otherwise Fa Be’yoh won’t cooperate, but what’s to stop him from… You know, just running off and siring a bunch of heirs in the physical realm?”
At that I laughed. “Oh, you don’t know mom like I do,” I said with a wink. “Remember, when we cast the circle, we’ll have him bound and mostly immobile. We’ll have a glass for him to see his reflection, of course, and I don’t think he’ll have any objections to what he sees.”
Honestly, mom had outdone herself. High cheekbones, perfect hair, sculpted muscles, and rock hard abs that were literally carved from rock. Even the vainest of vain incubus would have a hard time saying no to that body.
“Okay, so…” Louise prompted, not seeing where I was going.
“Remember the comment mom made about Greek sculpture? Remember what the church did to those sculptures?”
It took a moment, but soon enough Louise’s snort turned into full-blown laughter and Betty joined in. Underneath the artfully arranged leaves, mom had left an area so devoid of features that the unfortunate occupant was going to find himself envious of a Ken doll.
“Ouch!” she said after catching her breath. “I almost feel bad for the guy.”
“All right, we’ve got about an hour to… Oh Damn!” I cursed. When I looked at the time, it occurred to me that I was supposed to be to work an hour before. “I’ve got to tell Bogie I’m not coming in.”
“Already done,” Betty said with a sympathetic smile. “He’ll be here in a few. Nai’s bringing him, actually.”
“Huh? Why the heck is Bogie with Nai? And who’s running the bar?”
“Mort,” she said with a weird look.
“Mort? Oh great! If he doesn’t rob us, he’ll just piss everyone off by watering down drinks,” I grumbled.
“No, apparently Bogie was able to put the fear of Desmond into him. They were over at the Big Royal site getting ready for tomorrow’s grand opening.”
I was more than a little skeptical about Mort, but I let it go. I had bigger worries and a lot to get done in a short period of time. Specifically, I had to track down Seth and Desmond. Neither of them had responded to my text, which was highly unusual.
Louise was picking up Jem, who was not happy that we were disrupting some important football game date. He specifically asked that I not come to get him. I would have been offended, but the sad truth is that I was happy that I still rated high enough to make his girlfriend jealous. Yes, I was now at the point where I would take whatever scraps I could get.
* * *
The lights were on and Seth’s car was in the driveway when I got to his place, so I was relieved, but still confused as to why he wouldn’t answer my texts. Though when I knocked, no one answered.
“Guys?” I tried the door. It was open, so I let myself in. “Anyone home?”
The house was eerily silent, but there was no need to panic since it didn’t look like anything bad had happened. Most likely, he walked over to Louie’s for dinner. Still, I figured it was best to peek in and make sure that everything was actually okay. Good thing too, because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have noticed the red and gold cords that tied back the curtains. Granted, they weren’t hard to miss as they clashed violently with the blue and green curtains, so I rationalized that I was doing the agents a favor by taking them to add length to our binding cord.
While undoing the cords, I heard muffled voices that seemed to be coming out of the heating vents. I’d forgotten that Desmond’s workshop was in the basement. I opened the door and to my great relief, heard both Seth and Desmond clearly.
“Oh good,” I said and took the steps two at a time. “You’re both hee…uh… hey ho! Um…am I interrupting something?”
And as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Of course, I was interrupting something. Both Seth and Desmond had confided their current predicament to me and from the way they jumped back and tried to act casual, it was obvious that the situation was anything but.
“It’s…uh… no…You’re not…” Seth stammered.
“Is everything okay, Donna?” Desmond asked, recovering more quickly than Seth had.
“What? Oh yeah… I need your help. Both of you. We’re going to summon my dad.”
“What?”
I was almost physically thrown back by their simultaneous response. To say that they were shocked was an understatement.
“Um… I,” I stammered trying to regain control of the conversation. “That is, mom and me need your help. I texted you guys… actually. And um… Oh and I took this…” I held up the cord.
The agents shared a confused look as the tables turned and I was the one who was babbling and embarrassed.
“I didn’t hear anything…” Desmond muttered,
reaching for his pockets and frowning. “My phone is upstairs,” he said sheepishly.
“Mine too,” Seth chimed in, giving me the concerned parent face. “What is this about?”
As briefly as I could, I explained how Harry had shown up with the book of spells right before mom came over to tell me I’m cursed. Seth frowned, but Desmond nodded, seemingly unsurprised.
“I was with Myrna yesterday when she found the letters. I asked, but she didn’t tell me she’d worked out what they meant because she wanted to talk to you first. I take it this curse was placed by your father?”
“Well, kind of,” I said with a grimace. I wasn’t sure how much Desmond knew of Taffy, but I didn’t have time to get into the details. “Anyway, the sooner you can get up to mom’s the better. I’ve still got a few things to do, so I’ll meet you up there in a few.”
I hurried up the stairs and out the door. In reality, now that I had the extra length of cord, all I had to do was get back up to mom’s as well, but I suspected the agents had unfinished business and I wanted to give them space. Besides, since I was already downtown, I made a quick stop at our house.
For a solid minute, I sat in my car and waged an internal war. I knew damned well that my reasons for coming home defied logic. The whole point of summoning my father was so that he could lift the curse. Once I was back to normal, I could date whomever I wanted… presumably.
Now I was getting somewhere. I had to face the truth and the truth was I was afraid. I was afraid that after all was said and done, after the curse was lifted, nothing would actually change. I was afraid that I really was as gross and undesirable as people believed me to be.
It was stupid, of course. The rational part of my brain knew that I was not terrible and even if some of my bad habits remained, this did not make me the pariah that I am right now. Still, it was telling that when I closed my eyes and pictured the guy I wanted to be with, a specific face came to mind.
I just needed a body.
But what could I do? I didn’t have mom’s artistic talent and even if I did, I didn’t have time to create a body that would be worthy of drawing an incubus into it. Suddenly, a stray memory from my twenty-first birthday party bubbled to the surface. That was a particularly odd year. I’d just had a nasty break up with the guy that I was convinced was going to be the one to prove that my breaking the curse was not just a fluke. As such, we didn’t go bar hopping. The girls brought the bar to me, including a few party favors of an unconventional sort.