by Dana Davis
Though her mother had told her he was missing a thumb, Daisy never knew why. A blood spell. Not something she ever cared to attempt. He’d cut off his own digit. And a most useful one, at that. Even Bridgette looked a bit pale.
“Enough chit-chat, Grandpa Owen,” Daisy said, forcing her mind on current tasks. “We called you here because we have a problem.”
Between the three of them, they filled him in on everything that had happened. He stood pensive for what seemed an eternity.
Then he finally spoke. “Sounds like a skinwalker, all right. Nasty buggers. Had a lot more of them in my day when people were still fascinated by mediums and séances.” He leaned toward the television set and shook his head. “I’ve heard about these newfangled things. Mind if I see how it works?”
He didn’t wait for an answer and soon the room exploded with actor’s voices and background music as channels flipped by, along with a good amount of static. Ghosts were notorious for creating static, even with the most advanced technology. The thing finally stopped on a football game.
“Grandpa Owen?” When he didn’t answer, Daisy uttered a cease spell and the TV went off.
“What’d you do that for? He was about to make a play.”
“The skinwalker.” She didn’t know how long they could maintain contact. Grandpa Owen had been a very strong witch during his lifetime, but the ethereal world could yank him back at any moment.
“Science sure has come a long way since my day.” He sighed. “I’d recommend you pay a little visit to the Superstitions. Place is full of magick. There was a man I knew once, a long time ago. He was guardian out there. I think he has a grandson who lives there now. The boy’d be in his eighties. Last I heard he worked at some park or ghost town or some other useless place. He might be able to help.”
“Could you ask your friend directly about his grandson?”
A headshake. “Sorry, no. Hasn’t spoken to me since the crash of ‘29. I steamed a hell of a lot of people back then. Some haven’t forgiven me yet.”
“Gee,” Bridgette said. “I wonder why?”
“Bridge,” Daisy chided. “What’s this man’s name?”
Owen glanced at his hands, which were now moving toward transparent. “His name’s—” He faded, along with his voice, and disappeared.
“Grandpa Owen. Grandpa Owen!”
“He’s gone, Daisy.” Bridgette so kindly pointed out the obvious.
“Damnit!” Noah’s hand rested on her thigh. “I’m okay. Just so damn frustrating when they fade out like that.”
“Phil something, I think,” Noah said.
“What?”
“I think he mouthed the man’s name as Phil. Or it could be Bill. I didn’t catch the last name.”
Chapter 17
Superstitions
Daisy hung up the phone and cursed. Paul hadn’t been able to get permission for them to use the Kachina. Not even inside the museum.
Damn superstitious Indians!
No, that was unfair. Natives knew as well as any paranormal how dangerous things could get, especially when messing with ancient magicks, things many humans denied, even if their instincts told them differently. There were very good reasons children feared the dark.
She fingered the amulet Bridgette had given her. She kept the silver Rowan tree around her neck on the same chain with her marcasite moon. The charm seemed to be working. She didn’t or feel her attacker at all last night.
Perhaps they could try the spells in the vicinity of the Kachina, without actually being in the same room with it. Maybe just outside that emergency door at the museum would be close enough. But from what Daisy had learned about ancient power, she doubted the Kachina could do much from the museum, just as Paul had suggested. The place was too far from any of the local mountains. She needed ancient power.
She eyed Bridgette and realized the woman was already figuring out how to break into the museum. “I really don’t want to do that, Bridge.”
“Too bad,” came her cousin’s curt reply. “I’ll be damned if I let that predator get loose in corporeal form to start terrorizing the entire Phoenix metro area. Hell, he might not stop here once he’s flesh and blood.”
She was right. Damn her. “They’ll know it’s us.”
“Maybe not if we take a few other things. We can dump them at a local pawnshop. I saw one on the way out from the museum yesterday in an old strip mall. We both know a few cover spells that’ll help us. And you’ve got a whole chapter on glamours in one of those books. Some I’ve never even used.”
Perky raced toward the door that led into the garage and Daisy smiled for the first time in what seemed hours. Noah was home. She had made him promise to keep up appearances at work but he’d faked illness to come home early. The last thing they needed was for mortals to get suspicious, especially when everything else seemed to be going wrong.
“You think that’ll work, Bridge? Even with cover spells and glamours we might miss something.”
“I don’t give a fucking rat’s ass one way or the other. But I know you have a conscience, Daisy.”
“Before we go around committing felonies, let’s talk to the guy Grandpa Owen suggested last night. The one out at the Superstitions. He might have another solution. Maybe he knows where we can find another Kachina.”
Noah came in through the laundry room. “Hi, ladies.” He scooped up Perky then sauntered through the kitchen, dropped his workbag on a dining chair, kissed Daisy and said, “Anything?”
“Paul couldn’t get permission.”
“Damn. What now?”
Daisy gave Bridgette a sideways glance. “Well, Indiana McDougal here wants to break into the museum and steal the artifact.” She went on before her cousin could get in a retort. “I suggested speaking with the guy Grandpa Owen told us about.” And we’re going to try the spells from outside the museum. Bridgette might think that a waste of time, but Daisy wanted to try.
Noah leaned close. “Your plan sounds less nuts.”
“I heard that,” Bridgette said. She folded her long arms across her middle. “But Daisy’s right.”
“What?” She gaped at her cousin. “I could’ve sworn I heard you say I’m right.”
“You won’t hear it again if you get that snotty attitude. But yeah, if this guy has anything that’ll help, we should probably check him out first. If not, then we’ll go with plan B. Or is it plan C?”
Daisy shook her head. “I really hope it doesn’t come to that. We already know mountains contain power. And Grandpa Owen said there’s powerful magicks at the Superstitions. That might help us.”
“Just because he’s a guardian, doesn’t mean Grandpa Owen’s contact knows how to tap into them.”
“True.” Daisy’s stomach grumbled. “Let’s stop and get lunch on the way. Just let me throw on some jeans.” She went into the bedroom, dressed, and used the toilet.
When she exited the adjoining bathroom, Noah had changed from his work attire. “I’ll take Perky out before we go,” he said.
She nodded and rummaged through the perfume stash on her dresser for her favorite floral scent. Movement caught her corner gaze and she thought she saw her attacker standing just inside the closet. Her heart sprinted. When she looked full on, he was gone.
Sneaky bastard. Maybe he’s getting weaker. Or maybe I’m losing my fucking mind.
Either way, he didn’t come after her. She fingered the Rowan charm around her neck and headed to the car.
They decided to eat on the road instead of wasting anymore time. Daisy shoved a French fry into Noah’s mouth so he could keep his hands on the wheel as they peeled down the 101.
“Watch out for the speed cameras, Noah,” she reminded. He nodded and slowed to seventy before they reached the next overpass.
Bridgette laughed and Daisy twisted to see her cousin over the back seat. The redhead flicked her tongue out to swipe away some ketchup on her upper lip.
“What’s so funny, Bridge?”
&nb
sp; “Speed cameras. Just thinking how unnecessary those would be in Canada. I can run faster than most Canadians drive.”
Daisy chuckled.
“Feed me, woman,” Noah said in a deep voice, followed by a laugh.
Daisy snickered and held his burger to his mouth. When two strips of lettuce fell between his legs, she reached down to retrieve them.
“Hey, watch it,” he said with a mouthful of food. “Trying to get us into an accident.” He tried to offer a sensual smile but it lost much of its affect with a mouthful of food and Daisy laughed.
“Sorry,” she uttered. Though she certainly didn’t mean it.
“I’ll drive if you two want some privacy back here,” Bridgette said. “Better yet, why don’t we pick up some hottie guy and I’ll make out back here while you stay in the front.”
“You’re awful, Bridge.”
By the time they got to the highway 60 interchange, they’d finished lunch and were sucking on sodas. Another forty-five minutes of desert scenery interspersed with new housing developments and they were finally at their exit. Didn’t take long to reach Superstition Park from here. The place seemed deserted when they pulled into the lot, except for a couple of cars with out-of-state license plates.
“Minnesota and Wisconsin,” Bridgette said as she got out. “Shouldn’t give us too much trouble.”
“We’re not looking for trouble, Bridge.”
“This is the old west, Daisy dear. They’re always looking for trouble.”
“Watch yerself, ma’am,” Noah said in a southern drawl. “They don’t like you fancy city-slickers ‘round here.”
“Oh, kind sir. You will protect me with your Smith and Wesson, won’t you?” Daisy batted her eyes until Noah laughed.
They wandered through the park that had been a gold mine back in the 1800s and asked around for a Phil or Bill who might work here. They got shrugs or headshakes. Bridgette snooped but no one knew an employee by either of those names.
Until the plump woman at a gift shop suggested, “Wil? That who you’re looking for, honey? William Miller?”
The three exchanged glances and Daisy nodded. “Yes. Wil Miller. Is he here?”
The woman laughed. “He’s always here. Down at the Bordello most likely.”
They thanked her and exited the shop down the wooden steps and into the dirt street.
Daisy kept pace with the other two. “An old man at a Bordello. Imagine that.”
Noah and Bridgette chuckled.
“We came here as kids, remember?” she said to her cousin.
“I blocked that out. My mother tried to get me to go on that damn trail ride. She wanted photos for my pageant portfolio and really tried to cash in on the whole southwest angle.” She turned to Noah. “I hate horses.”
“Imagine that,” he said.
Daisy laughed.
They reached the Bordello, which looked like something from a western movie, even down to the upstairs railing the “whores” could hang over. Daisy stepped over several rocks and dodged a barrel cactus as she gazed around for the old man. At least Bridgette had sense enough to wear sneakers and jeans out here.
Two women stood on the porch in vintage dresses that revealed excess cleavage even by today’s standards. They concentrated on Noah, waving and leaning out to show their wares.
“Relax, girls,” Daisy said as she approached. “We’re just looking for Wil Miller. He here?”
Both dropped their smiles and leaned back against the wall. One pulled out a cigarette, lit it and began sucking on the thing.
The other woman nodded. “Around back.” After a quick glance up and down the deserted street, she dropped into a chair and fished a soda from beneath it.
“Not very old west of them,” Noah mumbled as they headed around the building.
“Just keep your eyes in their sockets big boy,” Daisy told him.
He leaned close. “Maybe you should go as a whore for Halloween this year.”
“I’ve certainly got more to fill out a bodice than those two.”
Noah chuckled.
“There.” Bridgette pointed to a man sitting in an old-fashioned rocker near the back steps. He had a pipe in his mouth and a gray beard trailed down his chin to rest just above his flannel shirt.
“He certainly looks the part,” Daisy uttered.
Bridgette squinted as she sometimes did when using telepathy. “That’s him.” She called, “You Wil Miller?” as they made their way toward the back of the building.
The man, who was petting a large dog at his feet, took the pipe from his lips. Old eyes drew up and down Bridgette’s tall form and he smiled. “Who wants to know?” he said in a friendly manner.
“Ever heard of a man named Owen Sean McDougal?”
That got the old man on his feet. He intercepted a younger guy with a marshal’s badge who was headed with some speed in their direction, most likely to inform them they were trespassing on the employees’ area. “It’s all right, Travis. They’re my guests.” The younger man nodded and walked off. Wil motioned them over. “Owen McDougal’s the bastard who sent my grandfather into bankruptcy. How the hell do you know about him?”
“I’m his great-granddaughter,” Bridgette said. She motioned to Daisy, who kept quiet so her cousin could sift through this man’s thoughts. “This is his great-great-granddaughter.”
Wil grinned. “You look awfully young to have a daughter that age.”
Bridgette’s eyes narrowed. “We’re cousins.”
Wil scratched at his beard then sat again. The dog, who hadn’t moved except to sit up, planted its head on the old man’s lap. Gnarled fingers twined in the dog’s fur and scratched. “Well, neither of you pretty women look like that old codger, so that’s something. Come to give my family’s fortune back?”
Daisy exchanged glances with Bridgette who gave a slight headshake and a shrug, meaning she couldn’t get much from Wil’s thoughts. Definitely a paranormal. Daisy stepped to his chair and glanced around to make sure no mortals were in earshot.
“Look,” she said, wary of the dog. He looked like a German shepherd mix. Whatever he was, he was a lot bigger than Perky. “I’m sorry for what Grandpa Owen did but we can’t change that. Grandma Mary tried for many years to undo the damage.”
The old man smiled again. “Oh, I remember Mary. Sweet woman. Not at all like her husband. She divorced him, didn’t she?”
“Yes. But that’s not why we’re here. I mean, Grandpa Owen told us about you but he’s not why we came.”
Old eyes narrowed on her. “I know you’re too young to remember him. You one of those mediums?”
“No. Inherent witch. Both of us.”
He must have noticed Bridgette’s hesitant manner. “You must be one of those cat lovers.” Before the redhead could get in a comeback, Wil motioned to the dog and said, “This is Luke. Gentle as a lamb, like me. In fact, Luke here’s been my companion eleven years. In dog years, he’s nearly as old as I am.”
For some reason, the fact that he was a dog lover made Daisy a bit more relaxed. Wil patted Luke’s head and the dog folded himself onto the ground at the old man’s feet.
Old eyes studied Noah. “What about you, young man?” Wil said.
“That’s my husband. He’s got ancestors.”
“Right. My mother didn’t have much power, either. I take after my father’s side. Not that his family was any use against Owen’s magick. So, what’s this about? Why’re you here?”
“We’ve recently encountered what we believe is a skinwalker,” Bridgette said. “A real bad one. Using old magicks.” Daisy gave her a look not to reveal everything but she kept talking. “We need a Buffalo Kachina to help us get rid of the sonofabitch.”
Wil stared up at Bridgette for a long moment, and Daisy wondered if he thought she was nuts. Those old eyes narrowed again and he took a long suck on his pipe. After he blew out several smoke rings, he said, “Skinwalker, huh? Haven’t heard about them since I was a boy. Nasty bu
ggers. What can I do?”
Noah stepped close and said, “Owen said you might be able to help us. That your grandfather used strong magicks here.”
“Yeah, he did. But he’s been dead a long time. I’m strong enough to do my job but I don’t have near as much power as he did.”
“The mountains do,” Daisy pointed out.
The man gazed toward the Superstitions. The barren-looking mountains formed from an ancient volcano reached for the desert sky in etched shelves. “You don’t want to go messing around with magick up there. Don’t you know the stories?”
Noah said, “Something about people getting killed by Apache warriors back in the gold rush.”
“Not just killed. And not just Apache. That place is cursed.”
“Surely after all these years—”
“Young man. I’ve seen things that would have you trying to climb back into your mother’s womb. And my father told me stories that would put goose bumps on your goose bumps. You think I stick around here for the fun of it? I’m a guardian of these mountains, just like my father, and his father before him.”
“What’re you guarding?” Daisy said. She didn’t really know that much about a guardian’s job.
“Paranormals like to come here because of the power and the legends of this place, just like mortals do. I make sure they don’t do anything stupid. My father started watching over this place after my grandfather died. The magick around here was damned awful at that time. Tainted from all the violence that went on during the gold rush. Took several paranormals to keep a plague from leeching out.”
Daisy suspected he wasn’t telling everything, and she wondered just how his grandfather had died. Perhaps he had been using blood spells against Grandpa Owen, trying to get back at him for the stock market crash. The look on Bridgette’s face revealed that her cousin had picked that thought from her head. Bridgette nodded.
“After so many people had died,” Wil continued, “he couldn’t get the place on its feet again so he turned her into a ghost town for tourists.”
“Guess it doesn’t tell about that history in the brochure,” Bridgette uttered.
