Enough. Who the fuck does he think he is? Cutting me off twice, talking about me in the third person when I’m standing right here. I’ve had it. “She isn’t checkin’ herself out because of you. I know that it’s hard to imagine, but my world doesn’t revolve around you, Alex.”
He squints. “Yeah, right.”
Asshole. I cross my arms and knit my brows. “Did you know the woman next door has cluster headaches, and her husband is so desperate because of her suffering he considers mercy killing? Or that the kid across the hallway has leukemia, and his parents know he will never grow up? No. How could you? You don’t have to feel the despair, fear, and sadness of the whole floor, but I do, Alex. So yeah, I am checking myself out, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Do I make myself clear?”
Alex’s eyes widen. I bet he hasn’t even considered the fact my gift can also be a curse, especially when I’m stuck in places like this. “I-I had no idea,” he stutters.
“Clearly, you didn’t.”
“Okay, let’s all take a deep breath,” Jesse says, getting between Alex and me. “How about we take you back to the motel, you get some rest, and when you’re up for it we drive you to New York?”
Always the peacemaker.
I shake my head. “No worries, Jess. I’m goin’ to catch a bus.”
“Of course she is,” Alex mutters under his breath.
Stay calm. This is going to be one of the last conversations you ever have with him. I draw in a deep breath, or as deep as my lungs allow. “I don’t wanna fight, Alex. As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“A favor? Why don’t I like the sound of that?” he says, a smile touching his eyes.
“Probably because you know me too well.” I answer honestly.
“What do you need?” Jesse sounds curious.
I pull pen and paper out of my bag and jot down a few things. “Can you get that for me?” I ask, passing him the note. I’d get it myself, but I still feel like crap.
Jesse skims my handwriting. “Twenty-one peppers, rum, a Cuban cigar, and,” he gives me the WTF look, “a black diamond?”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Alex yells, his eyes wide with fury.
Poor Jesse doesn’t understand jack. “Someone care to tell me what this is all about?”
“I—”
“She’s going to summon death.”
I smile. The boy is a quick study.
Jesse frowns. “Say that again, ’cause I thought you just said she’s going to summon death.”
Alex’s gaze glides from me to his brother. “Told ya. The girl has a death wish.”
I lock eyes with Alex. “I don’t have a death wish, jerk. But I always keep my promises, and I owe Isobelle.”
“That’s insane,” Jesse says, hand fisted around a streak of his wild curls.
Alex faces me. “He’s right, Manda. It’s a crazy idea.”
I shrug. “Not crazier than going against a bocor.”
Jesse studies his brother. “You can’t let her do that, man.”
“Look,” I say nonchalantly. “If you’re too scared, I can do it on my own.”
Alex eyeballs me. I can tell he hates the idea, but he understands why I have to do this. “Get the stuff, bro,” he says, running a hand over his freshly shaved face. “We owe her that much.”
Chapter 27
The night air blows through the open windows as Alex pulls over onto the side of the road. “This is as good as it gets,” he says, pointing to the deserted crossroad in front of us.
I gaze through the windshield. Ghostly trees line the unpaved street. Withered flowers and a crooked cross mark the death of some poor bastard, and an uncanny atmosphere poisons the air. Perfect spot to invoke a reaper.
“This is a stupid idea,” Jesse bitches, yanking the door of the Mustang open. “What if your summoning ritual pisses him off?” He hasn’t exactly been chatty since we got in the car, and judging by the look on his face, I’d say he’d rather go on a date with Lucifer than be anywhere near here. I don’t blame him. The whole zombie thing fucked him up pretty bad.
Digging my heels into the dusty ground, I get out of the car. “Guess he’ll just have to deal with it.”
Mr. Snappy looks over the top of the car and grimaces. “He’s a reaper, Manda. Dealing with it could very well result in a blood bath.” He clears his throat. “Our blood, I might add.”
Stalking to the trunk, I frown. “C’mon, Jess. You sound like your brother.”
“Knock it off, guys,” Alex orders. “The sooner we get this over with the better. So everybody just go to work, all right?”
“If you say so,” Jesse hisses.
I grab a black bag from the trunk and walk to the center of the crossroad. Scanning the area, I make sure no one’s around. Then I pull a book with voodoo symbols out, open the page with Samedi’s sigil, and start drawing.
Jesse’s gaze travels from the symbol in the book to my poor imitation on the road. “Your drawing skills suck, Amanda.”
Maybe if I hadn’t flunked all those art classes, my masterpiece would look less WTF and more like the sigil, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Feel free to join in if you think you can do a better job.”
Jerking the book and the chalk out of my hand, he goes to work. The boy has some real talent. “When did you become the new Picasso?”
Sketching the last lines, Jesse smiles. “Took a few classes in junior high. Chicks dig artists, you know.”
“Of course they do.”
“Guys,” Alex groans. “How about we focus on the task at hand and save the small talk for later?”
He’s right. There are a million things that could go wrong tonight. We better make damn sure we’re prepared.
Leaning against the car next to Alex, I shove gum in my mouth. “Just so we’re clear, under no circumstances will either of you enter that circle when I call upon him. Understood?”
Alex frowns. “I hear ya, Manda. No entering the circle because we might get gutted. Noted. Now tell me something.” He bats his long lashes. “What are you going to do if he doesn’t free her?”
Spit some insults at him? “What is it with the Remington brothers and pessimism?”
“Comes with the job,” Jesse explains as he throws the chalk in the bag and grabs the juniper to make a circle.
I’m about to cross the juniper line when Alex reaches for my hand, spinning me around. My heart leaps in my chest when his malachite eyes find mine. “I know you’re not scared of death,” he says. “But I hate funerals and suits, so could you please try not to get killed?”
“Will do my best,” I promise. “Hand me the rum.” Jesse throws the bottle, which I stuffed with twenty-one peppers, my way. I catch it just before it smashes on the ground. “Dude,” I yell, giving him the evil eye.
“What?”
“I know you have some serious doubts, man. But I need to know you guys have my back.”
“Your back?” Jesse laughs. “It’s not like we can kill death, Amanda.”
“Relax,” Alex says, placing a hand on his anxious brother’s shoulder. “She knows what she’s doing. It’s not like she hasn’t done it before.”
Jesse tilts his head to the side. “Has she?”
Alex’s eyes lock with mine. “You have, right?”
Lie. “Sure.”
“Manda,” Jesse warns.
I bite on my lower lip. “All right. Truth is I’ve never mixed voodoo with traditional witchcraft.”
“What?” Alex snaps, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. “Are you kidding?”
Jesse smites his forehead. “Holy shit, we’re beyond screwed.”
I make a calming gesture. “Would you relax already? I’ve got this.” How hard can it be to get a date with a reaper?
Walking into the circle with the rum in one hand and the Cuban cigar in the other, I take a seat in front of the sigil. “Let’s get this party started.”
Jesse crosses
his arms and pulls a face. “I don’t see how this is a party, but whatever.”
“Just be careful,” Alex orders.
A silly grin spreads across my face. “Worried ’bout me?”
“You wish.”
Jesse frowns. “Some screwed up foreplay you guys have, that’s for sure.”
“Shut up,” Alex and I shout at the same time.
Jesse grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Just stating the facts.”
I ignore him and unscrew the top of the rum bottle. “Remember, don’t enter the circle.”
They both nod.
I get to my feet, pull the knife out of my back pocket, and throw the cigar on the sigil. I use the knife to draw a pentagram in each cardinal direction. Starting with the north, I work my way to the west and chant, “Uriel behind me, Raphael to my left, Michael across from me, and Gabriel to my right. Archangels, I call upon thee. Bless this circle and let no harm come to me.”
“What the hell is she doing?” Jesse mumbles.
Alex shrugs. “Beats me, man.”
“Guys, please. I’m tryin’ to work here.”
“Sorry,” they grumble.
Once I feel the protective energy buzzing around me, I sit down and sip the spicy rum. Damn, that shit is hot. “Messorem, messorem veni foras. Sit velantur parte saecula. Quacumque die invocavero te, orbisque mortis. Mihi in occúrsum hoc in bivio et perficiets volentem.” A warm breeze wafts through my hair as I take another sip. “Messorem, messorem veni foras. Sit velantur parte saecula. Quacumque die invocavero te, orbisque mortis. Mihi in occúrsum hoc in bivio et perficiets volentem.”
Shit, why the fuck is it so hot all of a sudden? Sweat drips down my forehead as I repeat the spell one last time before spiting the rum on the sigil and slicing my palm with the knife.
Fisting my hand, I let the blood drop onto the white chalk. “Samedi, Samedi, I call upon thee. Samedi, Samedi, come to me.”
A black mist surfaces in the middle of the sigil. While Alex and Jesse are busy picking their jaws from the ground, I’m fighting the fire that burns me inside. I’ve never been a fan of saunas, but nothing compares to the lava running through my veins. Instinct tells me to run, but the second I step out of that circle, I’ll be without protection, and that could be fatal.
“Who calls upon me?” the mist asks, coalescing into a grotesque shape wearing an old-fashioned top hat.
C’mon, Manda, show some dignity. Under Alex and Jesse’s watchful eyes, I straighten. “I do.”
“What a surprise. A Bishop witch practicing the dark arts?” The energy around that thing is so strong it electrifies the air.
Waves of heat jolt through me, twisting my gut. “Cut the crap,” I say. “I’m not in the mood for small talk.”
Advancing toward me, the creature laughs. “I see. Let’s cut to the chase then. How can I assist you?”
Stay focused. He can’t harm you.
“Your friend, Francoise, banished the soul of a little girl to purgatory. I need you to release her.” I sound pretty confident, considering his sheer presence freaks me out.
“Hmm.”
The weird energy, along with the heat makes my head swim. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The thing closes the gap between us. From the corner of my eye, I see Alex reaching for his gun. What’s he gonna do? Shoot a reaper?
“It means I have to think about it.” The creature’s voice is so otherworldly he could play a role in Outlander.
Rage pumps through my heart. “What’s there to think about?” I say, sounding pissed. “Your shitty friend put an innocent girl in the realm of evil witches and demons. Get her the hell outta there or—”
“Don’t threaten me,” he warns, holding up a shadowy hand. “I’m not big on the whole Pretty Little Liars act, Amanda.”
When reapers watch TV, the world must really be coming to an end.
I wave the comment off. “Threat? Me? You? Don’t be silly. I might be insane, but I’d never threaten a reaper.” I smile. “Hypothetically speakin’, though, I would make him a promise.”
“What kind of promise would that be?”
My lips curl into a mischievous grin. “The promise would involve a black diamond and a trapping ritual.” Black diamonds can trap spirits. Until a few seconds ago, I wasn’t sure if they worked on reapers, but when he stiffens, I realize I’m on the right path.
“I see,” the thing says, his hollow gaze gliding to Jesse and Alex.
Alex pulls the tiny black gemstone out of his pocket and holds it up. “A word of advice?” The creature groans. “Don’t piss her off. She can be a real pain.”
One side of Jesse’s mouth rises. “I bet Francoise would agree.”
Pacing the juniper line, the reaper considers his options. Damn, he needs to hurry the fuck up. I’m melting here. “What do you say?”
Stopping dead in his tracks, his non-existing eyes search my soul. “Your arguments are very convincing.”
“But?”
He floats back to the sigil and picks up the cigar. “I’m aware you are no mambo, love. Surely, though, you know I am the only reaper who’s in the service sector, right?”
“What’s your point?”
“After everything Francoise did, I do think there must be some compensation. However, I am willing to grant you one wish and one wish only. After that, I will never answer any of your calls again, and there will be no chance for further assistance from my side.” The cigar in his hand lights, and he takes a drag off it. “Do you understand my terms, Amanda?”
I wipe the sweat off my neck. “What in God’s name makes you think I would call upon you again?”
Taking another drag off the Cuban, he points at Alex. “Why don’t you ask your little hunter friend over there?”
What’s this, a goddamn quiz show? I look at Alex and Jesse. “What’s he talking about?”
Jesse averts his gaze.
Alex shrugs. “No idea.”
The energy of the reaper messes with my ability to read Alex’s aura. Apart from a few traces of gray and blue, which could mean anything, I don’t get a clear reading.
The thing laughs. “Alexander Remington. Always concerned about everyone, but himself.”
“Shut up,” Alex hisses.
“Man, think about this,” Jesse whispers. The look he gives his brother is one of pure desperation.
“Yes, Alexander,” the creature says, amused. “Think about it.”
“All right, that’s enough,” I yell, unable to endure the heat any longer. “Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on here, or I’ll banish all of your asses into that diamond.”
Silence.
I’m surrounded by morons.
Between the urge to rip my sticky clothes off, the cramps in my stomach, and the fact that I’m more than mad because no one gives me a damn answer, I make a decision. “Either someone tells me what this corrupt piece of shit is talking about, or I’m going to get Isobelle’s soul out of Purgatory.”
Alex faces me with a softness in his eyes that’s both surprising and heartbreaking. “Do it. Get her out of there, Amanda.”
Jesse pales, but when his lips stay sealed, I have no choice but to go through with it. Spinning around, I eyeball the reaper. “I want Isobelle’s soul freed from Purgatory.”
The creature tips his hat. “Very well then. Your wish shall be granted. Her soul will be shipped to Limbo, where the weight of her heart will decide her future.”
In other words, depending on her lifestyle, she’ll either be reborn, enter the everlasting light, or deported to hell.
“It was certainly a pleasure to meet you, love.”
“Oh please,” I bitch, throwing my hands in the air. “Spare me the false amiability.”
Slowly dissolving, the reaper turns to Alex. “Until we meet again, Alexander.” Then his shadow merges with the night.
We head back to the motel, a bone-crushing silence filling the Mustang.
Alex drives, Jesse rides shotgun, and I sit in back, wondering what these guys are keeping from me. There’s a big part of me that wants to torture them until they tell me the truth. The rational side of my brain, though, urges me to forget all about it and get on with my life. They clearly don’t want my help, and after tonight, neither Jesse nor Alex will be my problem anymore.
****
The bus station crawls with people: grownups, kids, teenagers, fighting couples, loving couples. It’s a chaotic mess.
Gawking at the TV screen that hangs on the wall of the station, I listen to the CNN chick. “Several members of the Prevent Crimes Against Children Foundation were arrested last night after the FBI found compromising material in their homes. The organization first came under the scrutiny of the agency when one of their members, a French citizen named Francoise Matthieu, was arrested for abduction, rape, and child pornography in Bakersfield.”
Karma, without a doubt, is a ruthless bitch, but it never fails to deliver justice.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I walk toward the bus, typing a text to Bonnie.
Alex sneaks up behind me. “In case you get grumpy,” he says, holding a doggy bag under my nose.
I spin around, a big smile spread across my face. “Afraid I might go crazy-witch-pants on the driver?”
Alex’s lips curl up. “Pretty much.”
I open the bag and stare at the carefully chosen supplies: lemon cupcakes, sandwiches, a package of onion and cheese chips, lots of soda, and Red Bull. “You know me well, Alex.”
Jesse wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. “Never saw him do anything like it for another girl.”
“Jesse,” Alex warns.
“Just saying, man.”
“Final call for New York,” a middle-aged driver shouts, and people start lining up at the bus door.
With one swift move, Jesse spins me around. “So, that’s it, huh?” he says, eyes locked on mine.
Call me sentimental, but the prospect of never seeing them again tugs at my non-existing heart. “I guess.”
He pulls me into a bear hug. “Take care, Manda,” he whispers, almost breaking another rib.
“You too, Jess.” Stepping back, I shove the doggy bag into my backpack. “And no more zombie excursions, understood?”
Karma Page 21
