by Stuart Jaffe
Drummond came over, his face lit up like a giddy boy watching a schoolyard fight. “Wow, they’re really going at it.”
“Can’t you do anything?” Max said. “Eventually, they’ll be done with each other and then we’re screwed.”
“Well, don’t try to run for it. You’ll get shot.”
“Stating the obvious isn’t helpful.”
“Maybe next time you’ll be smart and bring a gun along. Don’t you know anything yet? You always bring a gun to a gunfight.”
“Really? You’re going to go with a version of I told you so? Well, I’m sorry that I’m still not all that good with a gun. I don’t usually need one. I’ve usually got something I can ...” Max’s eyes darted around as he thought over the idea in his head.
Drummond floated down to the ground. “I don’t like that look. What are you thinking?”
“I don’t have a gun, but I’ve got a skull.”
Sandra raised her head and joined Drummond’s concern. “Please, honey, don’t do this.”
“If we stay here, we’ll eventually get shot.”
“But that skull is —”
“It’s our chance. Unless one of you has a better idea.”
Sandra and Drummond said nothing.
Biting his bottom lip, Max unzipped the backpack and pulled out Dr. Connor’s skull. The rusty iron gag made it more hideous and far heavier in his hands. Max arched his head back and inhaled sharply. “Here I go.”
Chapter 23
At the age of seven, Max attended the wedding of his Aunt Mary to his Uncle Claude. Aunt Mary thought it a wonderful idea (and oh how cute!) to have Max walk the rings down the aisle. On the day of the wedding, Max’s mother handed him a satin pillow with two gold bands tied to the pillow with lace. She pushed him into a line of well-dressed adults waiting outside the church doors and said, “All you’ve got to do is walk to the end and hand the pillow to your grandpa.”
“Okay, Mommy,” he said, clueless as to what this was all about.
“Whatever you do, don’t drop the pillow.”
Music started playing inside the church and the line slowly moved. As he stepped closer to the doors, his cheap suit grew itchier and the satin pillow grew heavier. Suddenly, all the water he had drunk that morning pressed against the walls of his bladder.
At the doors, a lady Max had never met put out her hand for him to stop. She had a clipboard in her other hand and counted aloud, “And 5, and 4, and 3, and 2, and 1.” She opened the door and motioned with her head for Max to enter.
Walking down that aisle, that little boy felt that the fate of his world depended on his ability to keep that pillow from falling while not peeing his pants in front of a crowd. Max never imagined he would feel that pressure again. He was wrong.
Holding the gagged-skull of Dr. Connor over his head, Max stepped carefully into the circle. His bladder threatened to let loose while his mind tried to maintain focus on not dropping the skull. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Pale Man aiming a weapon, but Tucker shoved the man aside.
Max looked across at Mr. Pescatore. As he raised his handgun toward Max, Drummond soared across the Tramping Ground and threw his fist into the man’s head. Both the man and the ghost cried out, but only the man fell to the ground unconscious.
That left Leon, but Max had no worries there. Leon understood the world of magic. Where the other two were essentially henchmen, Leon provided more than mere muscle to Mother Hope.
Once in the center of the circle, Max lowered his arm. “This fighting, all of it, has got to stop. It hasn’t always been this way. I know better than all of you. I’ve researched the Hull family extensively. I know your history better than any other. Even you, Tucker. And Mother Hope, your Magi Group has a long history, as well. I’ve been the one who has researched it from its formation to the present day.”
Mother Hope pouted. “Then you know we’ve always been fighting each other.”
“But not always like this. Not to the point of causing this much chaos. You’ve all become too comfortable with your power. It’s corrupted you.” Max turned to face Cecily. “All of you.”
“I don’t have any power,” she said.
“Of course you do. You were born into it. Here’s the thing about power and corruption. The public don’t mind it. That’s why you’ve been able to act as you have all these years. Most of the public don’t even know or pay attention, but those that do, they accept a little corruption. They may even expect it. Just like organized crime or politicians, we don’t condemn you for exercising your power even if it’s blatantly corrupt. Provided you don’t mess with our lives. But when you get so comfortable with using your power, when you get greedy to a point that shoves the inequity in our faces, then the public gets upset. That’s when criminals go to jail and governments are toppled.”
Max walked a gentle arc so he could look into the eyes of each party. Last, he set eyes on his wife. Her confident nod warmed his heart. Of course, he also noticed her hands locked together in a white-knuckle clench, but the fact that she still found the strength to urge him on was enough.
“Ever since we moved down here and learned of the world you all live in, we’ve been content to let you have it. Manipulate the city and the state with magic and money, and we wouldn’t bother you at all. We simply wanted to live our lives in peace. But you wouldn’t have it. Your corruption, your greed, spilled over until you impacted our lives more and more. Well, as the representative of the public in this case, I’m here to tell you that we’ve had it. We’re sick of cringing and cowering every time we hear the name Hull. We’re sick of dodging and weaving the gauntlet of spells that the Magi and the Hulls throw out onto the world. It all stops now.”
Mother Hope spit on the ground. “It only stops when the Hulls stop using magic.”
“Why?” Tucker said. “So you and all the witches can do as you please?”
Max raised his voice above the bickering. “You have a chance right now. All of you can walk away from this. Tucker will return to the dead where he belongs, and he’ll give control of the family to Cecily. Cecily will end all affairs dealing with magic and focus on legitimate businesses for the Hulls. Mother Hope will disband the Magi Group. That’s it. You either fix this now or I will set Dr. Connor free, and you can all try to control her in a game of magic Russian roulette.”
“Nice speech,” Tucker said. “Except your threat is empty. Unless you brought a hacksaw, you can’t break through that witch’s gag. It may be rusty, but it’s still iron.”
Max searched the faces surrounding him. “Is that what you all answer? You want to see if I’m bluffing?”
With hesitation, Cecily managed to take a single step forward. “Tucker’s right. The gag is solid all around. You can’t cut her loose. You try to pick the lock and we’ll take you down before you can even start.”
“Mother Hope? Are you like the rest — too greedy for power?”
The old woman shrugged. “These two already refused your offer. What does it matter what I think?”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Whatever happens, you all had a chance.”
Tucker sneered. “Enough already. Whoever kills him first will get Dr. Connor.”
Max did not wait for the guns to rise. He brought his hand down fast, smashing the skull on the hard mound in the center of the Devil’s circle. The old bones shattered like brittle pottery, and Max had one unique second in which he saw markings on the inside of the gag. Then Dr. Connor’s curse ripped to shreds.
An explosive force lifted Max off the ground. Heat and sulphuric odors pressed him higher into the air and cast him to the edge of the circle. Like a sharp knife cutting the skin, Max felt the mark on his chest slice open. He cried out and clutched the wound.
While his heart hammered against his chest, he forced himself up. Everybody lay on the ground from the explosion. He looked back for Sandra. Coughing, she waved him on.
He rolled to his knees, took a few breaths, and put on
e foot firmly onto the ground. Groaning, he pushed up until he could slip his other foot underneath. Though still crouched over, at least he was standing.
Before he could look into the circle, the light scent of rosemary perfume drifted toward him. The perspiration dotting his skin beaded and froze. Max lifted his head.
A young, attractive woman stood before him. No, she didn’t stand. She floated a few inches above the ground.
Dr. Ashley Connor.
She placed a slender finger against her cheek. “Well, well. Max Porter. Why, just the man I’ve been dying to kill.”
Chapter 24
Max could not move. Not because of some spell or magical force, but because of fear. True terror. His muscles would not react to the will of his brain. All he could see was Dr. Connor gliding towards him. All he could hear was the rapid pounding of his heart.
Five feet away from him, she stopped and spun like a ballerina. “Death looks good on me, don’t you think? I don’t think I looked this beautiful in years. In fact, I think I started to lose my beauty the day you walked into my office.”
Max tried to swallow but his throat constricted against it.
“That’s it? You’re going to stand there and say nothing?” In a flash, she had her face right in front to him. Her anger heated his skin as if he sat too close to a campfire. “Oh, don’t worry. I remember exactly how to get a rise out of you.” She turned her attention to those behind him. “All I have to do is play with your sweetheart. What’s her name? Sally? Sandy?”
“Sandra,” Max growled and found the strength to straighten.
“See that? I knew I could get you moving. But you’re still so slow. Allow me to help.” She backhanded him like a princess discarding an unwanted servant. When her hand struck, however, it was with a force that no fairy tale princess ever possessed.
Max shot back through the air and slammed into the trees. He thumped into the ground, and his vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. Rolling onto his back, he inhaled and his lungs burned — I better not have broken another rib.
Sandra appeared at his side and reached under him. With her help, he managed to get back to his feet.
Mother Hope had moved in towards Dr. Connor. The old woman approached with her head down and her eyes averted. In her hand, Max saw a blue amulet. “Dr. Connor, please.”
Dr. Connor reared back but then laughed. “Oh, you’ve got a little charm to help you see me. Can you hear me, too?”
“Yes. Please, listen. You must be careful. When a witch dies, she has access to great power, but you well know that all power has a cost.”
“You want to school me on witchcraft? My family has been dealing in spells since before you were a thought.”
“Then I shouldn’t have to remind you that the energy you use to appear young or to throw us in the air burns up your time as a ghost. If you don’t ration your use of this power, you’ll burn up. At best, you’ll be reduced to a mound of glowing ash. More likely, you’ll end up a soul with no manifestation other than a formless glob.”
Dr. Connor tossed her hair back. “But I like looking the way I do. You have no idea what it’s like on this side of life.”
“But I do know what happens if —”
“You think I’ll end up like that bastard, Leed?” She swiped her hand, and like a child plucking a candy, she pulled out a glowing bit of light from the air. “What this mouse thought it could do spying on a lioness like me, I’ll never know. Then again, I’ll never care.”
“Leed!” Drummond said and rushed forward. Tucker leaped out, too, but not toward Dr. Connor. Instead, he tackled Drummond, sending the ghost into the ground.
Max glanced at his chest — the curse. Originally, it had put him in a near-death state. The way it now cut through his skin gave Max a thought. Tucker lived in both the living and dead worlds which was why he could touch Drummond. Since Max could see Leed, then perhaps he, too, had a foot in both worlds.
“Leed?” he said, his voice quivering.
Dr. Connor spun back toward Max. “Oh, you can see your old friend, can you? Well, that does make this a far more satisfying experience.” She closed her fingers around Leed and squeezed.
“No!” Drummond yelled but Tucker had him pinned to the ground.
An audible pop halted all who could see Leed. Silver liquid dribbled between Dr. Connor’s pale fingers. Drummond uttered a single cry. Thrusting his elbow while twisting his ghostly body, he broke free from Tucker. Instead of attacking Dr. Connor, however, Drummond launched right back into Tucker.
Screaming garbled words, he threw a barrage of punches, knocking Tucker back into the woods. The Pale Man, unable to see the ghosts, watched in disbelief as Tucker gyrated himself until blood splashed from his nose.
Dr. Connor shook her hand, spraying the liquid that had been Leed onto the ground. Grinding his teeth, Max glowered at the witch. He could hear Sandra moving closer to him, and he motioned her back.
“Don’t want the wife to play?” Dr. Connor said. “But she’s just as much to blame as you.”
Tucker kicked Drummond off of him and rose to his feet.
“First,” Dr. Connor said, “you and your wife destroyed my office. Then you destroyed my reputation. After all the work disappeared, you turned me into an alcoholic. You made the Hull family lose faith in my abilities.”
Tucker moved with surprising grace and speed. He ducked Drummond’s wild punch and smashed his fist into the ghost’s chin. Dazed, Drummond slipped through several trees as Tucker followed him with another fist ready to strike.
Dr. Connor’s eyes flickered like firelight. “It took me some time to return to a position I deserved. But you were there to screw it up again. From the day you arrived in North Carolina, you have hounded me, plagued me, but tonight we see that you cannot destroy me. In fact, I’m stronger than ever.”
She thrust out her arm, and Max felt something grab hold of his chest. The curse! She raced forward and the unseen pressure on his chest shoved him back until he slammed into a tree.
“Leave him alone!” Sandra charged Dr. Connor, but the witch merely put out her free hand. Sandra smacked into something hard and fell back.
“What’s the matter, little girl? You think the living are the only ones who can create a ward? And here, the Devil’s Tramping Ground, well, surely you didn’t think you were immune to its effects.”
“But the wards against ghosts —”
“It’s the other way around here.”
Sandra crawled up to the invisible wall that blocked her from getting any further and watched. Max felt the tears falling from his face. Once more, his body had frozen — only this time, it was due to Dr. Connor and not his fear.
Dr. Connor lowered her head and mumbled a few phrases. Though Max could not decipher the words, he knew he wouldn’t like the result.
The pain started at once, burning from the mark on his chest even as cold crept up his legs. The heat formed a jagged line down to his stomach. He heard shrieking and looked to Sandra. Only when he saw that she wasn’t making the noise did he understand that he was the one crying out.
“Stop it,” Mother Hope said. “You don’t have much time. If you keep using up the magic you have, we’ll never be able to fight Tucker.”
Dr. Connor paused to address Mother Hope, and Max slumped forward, heavily panting, grateful for the reprieve. “What are you chattering about?”
“The spell. I need you, a powerful witch that has died — I need you to cast a spell with me so that we may stop Tucker Hull. Cecily has a witch’s eye.”
“Really? Who?”
“Madame Vansandt.”
“That shriveled bitch?”
“With that eye, we can do this. But we must do it now, while the Porter’s ghost is keeping Tucker busy.”
Dr. Connor’s skin reddened as if a fire burned beneath the surface, and she leaned toward Mother Hope. Cackling a laugh, she said, “Why would I ever want to defeat Tucker Hull? I am loyal to the Hu
lls like my mother was loyal to the Hulls and my grandmother was loyal to the Hulls and even my great-grandmother, too. My family’s long line of witches has proudly served the Hulls. Why would I defile that?”
“But —”
Tucker threw Drummond across the circle. The ghost passed through Mother Hope, bringing the old woman to her knees. Her teeth chattered and she hugged her arms tight against the sudden cold.
To Tucker, Dr. Connor said, “If you’re done playing with that ghost, we can cast our spell.”
With a guilty grin, he wiped his hands on his pants and returned to the circle. Max saw a flash of the charm this man had once possessed, the charm that gave him such control over others, the charm that would help him smile his way forward while destroying those who blocked his path. He strolled by Dr. Connor and put his hand out towards Cecily.
“My dear child, we have been foolish. I have held too strongly to the way the world had been while I was alive. Hundreds of years have fallen away, and the rules I once knew have changed. I now see that the place of a woman has changed as well. Max here, our friend and constant thorn, spoke of seeking peace and stability and avoiding corruption, and I could not agree more. What better way for us to achieve such lofty goals than together?”
“Excuse me?” Cecily inched closer even as her head pulled back.
“Come. You have Madame Vansandt’s eye, and I have Dr. Connor. Together, we can destroy the Magi Group and run the Hull family into a prosperous future.”
“Together? After I give you the eye, what happens to me?”
“What do you want?”
“You know the answer.”
“Yes, I do. Okay. Help me, and you will have proven your worth. We will share the running of the family. You will be president of our business operations, and I shall handle familial and magical concerns. Is that agreeable?”
The triumph that overcame Cecily’s face sickened Max. She took Tucker’s hand and let him escort her into the circle. “I think we’re going to build a happy family.”
Tucker stopped Cecily a few feet away, pointing out where Dr. Connor stood so that Cecily did not accidentally walk through the ghost. Then he let go of her hand and put his out, palm up. “The eye?”
