Something to Curse About (Discord Jones)

by Gayla Drummond

  Damian nodded. “Yes, we would. All right, I’m going to let go of the gun now. Nobody get excited.”

  It suddenly occurred to me that holding a gun in the middle of a number of armed cops wasn’t the best place to be. That realization didn’t work to loosen my fingers. “Can I sit down?”

  “Good idea.”

  After I sat down on the pavement, I nearly freaked out. “He touched Sean too. Betty and Dad have touched Sean and me.”

  Stannett spoke. “Chapman had Sean’s arm, and Sean’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt.” He turned to Betty, who held Sean. “Did the man touch your skin?”

  Sean thought for a minute then shook his head. “I don’t think so, except with the gun. Is Cordi going to be okay?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Damian assured him. “I don’t think it’s working on her the way it’s meant to.”

  While willing my hand to let go of the gun, I said, “Betty, you touched me and Sean both. Are you feeling okay?”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  Stannett sighed, looking at Damian. “Well, now what?”

  “I think I’d better call David and take them to the shop. We’ll do a cleansing spell.”

  “On them.” I nodded toward my family members. “If the curse did jump from Chapman to me, I’m the biggest piece of evidence you have right now. You can try something else out, see if you can learn anything, and then do a cleansing spell on me.”

  Damian grimaced. “Are you certain? That could take a while.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Boy, was I. The odds of Chapman picking out Sean had to be hundreds to one. I hoped that thought wouldn’t occur to Betty.

  EIGHT

  Nearly two hours later my hand hurt from holding the stupid gun, but Dad, Betty, and Sean were clean of any magic. Dad sent Betty and Sean home after deciding he’d stay with me until the situation ended. Sean protested, but Betty agreed because Jonah’s babysitter needed to get home.

  “Okay.” David sat down on a chair across from the one I’d dropped into as soon as we arrived at the Blue Orb. He ran a hand through his fine blonde hair while blinking owlishly at me. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  I related the events up to the hug from Betty, trying not to squirm. Having a handful of gun made a restroom trip a little on the problematic side. “And then I opened my eyes, and boom! Everyone was staring at me and I had Damian’s gun in my hand.”

  “You didn’t hear any voices?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t remember anything that happened between hugging Betty and realizing you had the gun?”

  “Nope.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and turned to Damian. “Your turn. What happened?”

  “We walked up to them just as Cordi let go of Betty and stepped back. Next thing I knew, my gun was missing.”

  “I can’t teleport stuff I’m not touching, so…”

  Jo interrupted. “You’ve never tried to, have you?”

  I thought about it. “Actually, no, I don’t think I have. When I need to move stuff, I use telekinesis.”

  “It looks like you can teleport things you aren’t in contact with, it’s just that you never thought of trying before.” She half-smiled. “Hell of a way to find it out, huh?”

  “You could say that.” I’d have to practice since I had no clue how I’d done it.

  “Anyway,” Damian said. “Cordi turned around to face us, and had my gun. She began to raise it…”

  “And I asked her what she was doing,” Dad broke in. “She lowered it, and seemed normal, except for not being able to let go of it.”

  David leaned back, tugging at the cuff of his gray cardigan. “Hm. That’s interesting. You’re certain you didn’t hear any voices?”

  “No voices.”

  “Are you hearing any now?”

  “Just yours.” My reply earned a chuckle from Jo.

  “Do you feel any urges to shoot yourself or anyone else?”

  “No.”

  He half-closed his eyes, brow wrinkling while his fingers plucked away at his cardigan. “I think we can rule out any sort of possession if she’s not hearing voices or feeling extreme urges.”

  I was so beginning to feel a certain extreme urge, and crossed my legs to suppress it.

  “Which leaves what? Compulsion spell?” Jo ran her hand through her auburn hair when David nodded. “Those are tricky, especially if designed to jump from person to person by touch instead of being created with a certain person as the target. I wouldn’t know where to begin with creating a spell like that.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. My friends were pretty accomplished witches. Each of them had a specialization or two, which combined, made them one of the most powerful covens in Santo Trueno. “Is this going to be one of those spells that requires a sacrifice? Because I had enough of that with the whole demon thing.”

  Damian cleared his throat. “The most well-known compulsion spells are love spells, but those tend to be created as potions or objects.”

  “Yes, but a person could be used in place of an object.” Pursing his lips, David sank lower in his chair. “Yet the more people who touch an object that’s been spelled, the more it tends to dilute the compulsion.”

  “So this isn’t a sacrifice thing?”

  “Well…” he hedged. The three witches traded looks, and I sighed.

  “It could be. That’s what you’re not saying, right?”

  “Any spell can be made more powerful by a sacrifice of some sort. It doesn’t have to be a sacrifice that ends in death though.” Jo shrugged. “I can’t wrap my mind around one thing in particular. If this particular compulsion spell is strong enough to pass from one person to another, why isn’t it affecting Cordi the same way it did the guy she apparently got it from?”

  “Good question,” Damian said. “There wasn’t any expression on her face, any more than there was on Chapman’s. When she began to lift the gun, her arm trembled like his did.”

  David sat up and turned to my dad. “And she snapped right out of it when you asked her what she was doing?”

  “Yes. Is that important?” Dad looked from him to me. I shrugged, wincing when the movement caused a pang in my hand.

  “The sound of your voice apparently swung the odds in her favor to fight off the compulsion. This could be,” David nodded at me, “where blood comes into play, with the familial bond between you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Any time, kid.” We grinned at each other.

  “We can figure out how the spell was done later. Right now, we need to try and isolate it, in case Cordi’s resistance to the compulsion wears down. It’s still present, or she’d have let go of my gun by now.” There was a faint worry line between Damian’s brows. “I’d rather not be surprised again.”

  “It’s unloaded,” I pointed out.

  “You teleported it. You could teleport the clip. We’re not going to take chances.”

  “Okay.”

  My dad rubbed his chin. “I’m clean of magic, right?”

  “Yes,” Jo said.

  “Would I make a good place to isolate it?”

  “No.” My response came at the same time as David’s “Yes”. He didn’t flinch when I glared at him. “You are not using my dad as a jar.”

  “I volunteered,” Dad said. “I can’t teleport guns and the four of you should be more than enough to keep me from hurting anyone.”

  Everyone ignored my protests. David dug out a leather glove for Dad to wear so his wrist would be protected before Damian cuffed him to the banister of the stairs. I balked when waved over. “I don’t like this.”

  My dad smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

  Huffing out a swear word, I rose from the chair and crossed to the stairs. He held out his free hand, and I gave him mine. “I don’t feel anything happening.”

  No sooner than I’d finished speaking, than the gun thumped to the floor. “Okay, I guess it worked. Ow, my
hand. Dad?”

  “I’m fine,” he said after shaking his head. “Better let go, in case it moves back or something.”

  I did, stepping away to massage my aching hand while Damian retrieved his gun. The warlock’s tense posture relaxed and he smiled at me while tucking it into his shoulder holster.

  Jo’s familiar, a gray tabby cat named Beatrix who answered to “Trixie”, wove her way through legs and jumped onto the banister. Copernicus, David’s raven familiar, fluttered over and landed beside her. Both intently watched my dad while Damian called his familiar, Illusion.

  The goofy-looking husky popped into existence, a piece of toilet paper sticking out from the side of his mouth. Damian dropped his head, covering his face with one hand. “Did you leave any alive?”

  With a wag of his tail, Illusion grinned. He noticed the other two familiars, and tilted his head. His soft “Rroowrroo” earned an equally soft caw from Copernicus. At that, the husky sat down at the foot of the stairs and joined the other two in staring at Dad.

  Though I couldn’t feel anything, I moved back a few steps. All three of my friends watched their familiars as intently as the animals watched my dad, who winked at me.

  “Feels like I’m giving a presentation to hard-to-impress clients.”

  “I’ll bet.” I dug my thumb into the palm of my hand, trying to rub out some of the ache. “It’s good pra…”

  Illy barked, and I glanced at him before looking at the other two. Trixie’s fur puffed out and Copernicus half-spread his wings while opening his beak. When I looked back at my dad, his amusement had become blankness. “Okay. It worked. Do whatever you need to and get it off him.”

  “Mr. Jones, do you hear voices?” David’s hushed question gave me the creeps. I rubbed my arms, smoothing down the sudden rise of gooseflesh.

  Dad’s reply was a slip of sound from between barely parted lips. “Voice.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Man.”

  The three witches traded glances. David asked another question. “What is he telling you to do?”

  Dad’s response wasn’t immediate, which made it more shocking when he lunged to his feet, roaring out the word, “Kill!”

  Trixie and Copernicus shot out of the way, but Illy rose on his hind legs, butting Dad in the stomach and knocking him back onto his butt. The husky locked gazes with him and barked once. It sounded like a command. Dad froze.

  “Okay, enough. Get it off him.” I followed the demand with a smack to David’s arm. “Now.”

  He rubbed his arm and pouted. “There’s no call for violence.”

  “Calm down,” Jo said. “Illy has him. We have to move him to the circle.”

  They did while I hovered behind Dad as he shambled along, following Illy. The husky walked backward, never lowering his gaze from my dad’s eyes—or running into anything. Illy herded Dad right into the middle of the circle engraved in the polished concrete floor of David’s workroom.

  “What’s he doing to him?”

  “Nothing that will hurt him.” Damian’s assurance didn’t help much. I chewed on a fingernail and watched Dad’s expressionless face while they moved around, preparing to work the cleansing spell for the fourth time.

  Halfway through, my dad blinked. His brow furrowed and he looked around at the three chanting witches, pausing on me when I said, “Don’t break the circle. They’re not done yet.”

  Dad nodded, scrubbing both hands through his brown hair. It stuck out in all directions when he finished, as though he’d just woken up from sleeping.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  Jo shushed us in between words. I paced back and forth, glaring at the back of her head. Inside the circle, Dad chuckled and ran a hand over his face.

  ***

  After they’d worked the fifth cleansing spell, I stepped out of the circle, tired, grumpy, and in desperate need. “Be back in a minute.”

  After I returned from my speedy trip to one of the upstairs bathrooms, I asked, “So what did you find out?”

  “They’re still conferring.” David gestured at the three familiars, clustered together in the reading area. Jo and Damian began clearing away the candles and other things they’d used in the spells. “Why don’t you two go home? One of us will call when we have something to report.”

  “That sounds like a great idea.” Dad stretched. “Come on, kiddo. I’ll take you home.”

  We told the others good-bye and walked out. “That was freaky.”

  “I’ll say.” He shivered while unlocking his car. “Remind me not to do that again.”

  “I didn’t want you to do it in the first place.” My reminder received a shrug.

  “Parents help their kids.”

  I winced. “Sorry. Thank you, Dad.”

  He laughed. “You’re welcome, Cordi.”

  Halfway to my apartment, I remembered something good had come of the day. “Hey, my car’s finished. Wait until you see it.”

  “Where is it?”

  “At home. I teleported to the school from there. It was weird. My tracking sense blipped on while I was cruising the highway, led me straight to the school.” I checked my pinky nail. I’d chewed it ragged. “But the thread wasn’t a color I’ve seen before.”

  “What color was it?”

  “Gold.” I remembered something, from the case involving demons and the liar of an elf’s book. “He told me to pay better attention to the colors.”

  Dad glanced at me. “Who did?”

  “Um,” I hadn’t gotten around to telling him about the event that let me know precognition had joined my stable of psychic abilities. Probably because I’d actually died for a whole four minutes. “He’s either a stress delusion or a spirit guide. Says his name’s Sal.”

  Lips pressing tight, Dad lifted a hand from the steering wheel to rub the end of his nose. “Sal?”

  “Sal,” I confirmed. “Looks like a little old Indian man.”

  “Let’s go with spirit guide.”

  “Okay. Anyway, he told me to pay better attention to the colors. I hadn’t really thought about it since, but I guess he means the colors of my tracking threads.”

  Turning into the parking lot, Dad nodded. “Makes sense.” He saw my car and his mouth fell open. “Wow. That Logan does some amazing work. It looks new.”

  “He does. Come look at the inside.” I hopped out as he parked and led the way over to my returned baby. Dad oohed and ahhed as much as I had, but he skipped the squeaking.

  After several minutes, he sighed. “I’d better get home. Betty’s probably worried half to death.”

  “Okay.” We hugged and I waved him off before locking my car and heading inside.

  Leglin sat in the middle of the living room, his long, black and tan face somehow expressing stern disapproval.

  “I’m sorry. There was a problem. Do you need to go outside?” He lowered his muzzle, brown eyes rolling up while his ears swept back. “I wish I could figure out what you’re saying as easy as Nick does. Hungry?”

  Leglin barked, his ears perking. “I’m too tired to cook. We’re ordering pizza, okay?”

  From the way he leaped to his feet, tail wagging, I guessed it was okay. “I’ll tell you the toppings, and you bark for the things you want on yours.”

  My four-legged roommate’s tail wagged faster.

  NINE

  I sat on the living room floor next to the coffee table, holding a piece of pizza for Leglin while writing down the colors of tracking threads and the cases I felt pretty certain they were related to. Since I usually had more than one case at a time, “pretty certain” was as close as it got.

  “Silver has to mean vampires. Red is for demons—and let’s hope we don’t see any more threads that color.”

  Thump, thump. Leglin nibbled another bite off his super meat and cheese pizza.

  “It’s my turn to eat a slice next. Okay, brown…um, I think that’s animals and like, natural stuff. Because I
had to find a carving once, and a brown tracking thread finally led me to it. But a brown thread helped me find clues to find that missing racehorse too.”

  I stopped to wipe the hound’s lips, which had some strings of cheese dangling from them, with a paper towel. “Okay, green must be magical stuff. Or maybe ‘not evil’ magical stuff, because if it was for all magical stuff, then there would’ve been some green threads going on while we were looking for Thorandryll’s book, right?”

  Leglin sneezed.

  “Eww. Eat the rest of it. I have to wash my hand.” I shoved the last third of the slice in his mouth when he opened it. The hound’s shoulders quivered as he chewed. “Are you laughing?”

  He gave me wide, innocent eyes. “You are. Gah.”

  I went to wash my hands. Returning, I grabbed a slice of my pizza—mine had veggies—and went back to work. “I don’t remember any other colors, except for today, when the gold one popped up. So is gold for curses, or something else?”

  No response from the hound, who eyed the slice of pizza I held. “It’s mine.”

  I took a bite, thinking while chewing. “I guess it must be for cursed stuff, considering what happened.” Leglin bumped my elbow with his nose. “What?”

  He jerked his chin at my pizza. “I told you, it’s mi…oh, you want me to hurry up and eat it?”

  Thump, thump.

  “This is a working dinner, dude. I talk during those.” I took another bite anyway, and remade a shorter list with just the colors and what they must be related to next to each. “There. I wonder how many other colors might show up?”

  Leglin grunted, poking me in the arm again. “Okay, okay.”

  We finished our dinner, and I let him out the front door before I cleared away the pizza boxes. Once he returned, I took a shower and put on one of my new PJ sets. Sleeping nude had become a thing of the past, because the hound slept in my room when Nick didn’t stay over. He slept on the couch when Nick did.

  Since discovering Leglin was part wolf shifter and therefore more of a person than most people who loved dogs considered them to be, I’d decided to treat him like I would any guy I wasn’t dating. That meant no running around naked in front of him.