A Charmed Death

by Madelyn Alt

“How ’bout you, Big Joe?” Gen asked.

  “Battery went out on my recorder. It was reading just fine, then nothing. But Devin’s magnetometer is working fine.”

  “You should see the EMFs I’m recording. The levels are spiking. And moving in a trail. I was actually able to track the movements,” Devin added. “Not to mention, the infrareds are the coolest I’ve ever seen—so to speak,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Liss, can you point that thing this way? I’ll be curious to see what we’ll find when we review the tape later.”

  “Two incredibly handsome young lads skulking about in a dark corner, no doubt,” Liss said to the laughter of all. “But with luck, perhaps a bit more . . .”

  “Maggie seems to have attracted something, too,” Marcus said, casting a grin in my direction.

  “I did not!” I whispered, ducking down and looking around up above my head. “It was there already. You said you felt it, too.”

  Gen snapped a pic in my direction. “You should see this, Maggie,” she said, her tone full of awe. “You have a giant orb like Evie’s. But yours has color. Violet! It’s beautiful, huge, swirling with energy!”

  An orb? I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic! “What, um, does a violet orb mean, exactly?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing you need fear, ducks,” Liss said, coming up and putting a reassuring arm around my shoulder. Of course, that meant I had to stand upright. “Usually it’s just a spirit that’s attracted by your aura. The energy you’re putting out. How do you feel?”

  “Scared,” I warbled, feeling like a wuss but not ready to let shame force me into action. Did scared have a color?

  “Good. That’s your self-preservation instinct kicking in,” Liss said, giving my shoulder a motherly rub. “Without it, none of us last long. What else do you feel?”

  She wanted me to use my empath abilities now? “Is it safe to purposely link in to a spirit you know nothing about?” I asked her.

  Her eyes, as wise and old as the hills, held mine. “You are in control of yourself, Maggie. Once you realize that’s true, no other energies can affect you without your permission. But you’re not comfortable with this yet. That’s fine. There’s no reason to rush things. You’ll be ready in your own time.”

  I nodded, relieved. There was something about having to test my so-called abilities in front of an audience that made me feel like I was back in sixth grade, stuttering out my first oral report to a bunch of sniggering twelve-year-olds while I squirmed to keep my knees from buckling in terror.

  Such a wuss.

  Evie drifted near. “You okay, Maggie?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  While the male N.I.G.H.T.S. resumed their investigations, their female counterparts gathered around me, a wall of protective estrogen to keep the boogeyman out. “Thanks, everyone, for sticking with me. I know I’m probably putting a damper on things tonight.”

  “Oh, pish,” said Gen, throwing her arm about mine and Evie’s shoulders. “Us girls have to stick together. The men aren’t gonna do that for us.”

  “Besides,” Liss threw in for good measure, “they live to do all the technical things for us. It is their very purpose in life.”

  I giggled in spite of myself. “So even Marcus—”

  “Is a complete—what do you call it these days, technogeek?—who adores buttons, switches, and flashing lights,” she confirmed. “Of course. But don’t think he wouldn’t also be the first to put himself on the line to protect his friends. As would Joe and Eli and Devin. Our N.I.G.H.T.S. are also our knights. The best of men.”

  Spoken like a true aficionado.

  We watched them work for a few moments. Marcus, his intensity blazing as brightly as any spirit’s energy. Devin, who hopped around with the excitement and verve of the Energizer Bunny. Joe, with his sturdy shoulders, slow purpose, and ready belief. And Eli, whose quiet ways married perfectly with the energies of old. I’d never had a net of people I could count on, but the N.I.G.H.T.S. had become that for me, male and female alike. They really had, and it humbled me to think how quickly they had accepted me as one of their own. Every girl could use a safety net as she walked the narrow catwalks of life.

  Poor Amanda, as bossy and self-absorbed as she had been, did she once have a safety net to fall into?

  “Evie,” I whispered as we huddled together, “did you hear anything else today about Amanda and Jordan? You said the police had questioned him.”

  Evie shook her blond head. “I don’t think Jordan did anything wrong. I mean, why would he? He’s . . . well . . . popular. And he and Amanda were thick as thieves. Always together, always on top of the world. He had no reason to do anything to her.”

  Always together. And in today’s world that meant . . . “Were they . . . erm . . . close?”

  “Well, of course, they hooked up, and . . . Oh. You mean—?”

  At least I didn’t have to explain myself. “Yeah.”

  “Well, um, probably. I mean, yeah, I think so. I mean—”

  Of course they were. “Well, then. Jordan is a nice boy, I imagine, wealthy, popular, the world at his feet. But maybe Amanda presented some kind of obstacle.”

  “What kind of problem could have been that serious? They were made for each other.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about an unplanned pregnancy?”

  Evie and I turned as one to look at Gen. Serious, plain, quiet Gen, who had spent the bulk of her adult life as a wife of God.

  Good grief. It was true. It was always the quiet ones.

  Gen shrugged, meeting our open mouths matter-of-factly. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? In this day and age? Well? Doesn’t it?”

  Our mouths still open, we nodded.

  Liss jumped into the conversation feet first and took off running. “But if Amanda was pregnant, surely it stands to reason the coroner would have uncovered that little tidbit?”

  “Would they have released the information, do you think?” I posed the question to the group at large, thinking aloud.

  It was speculation, pure and simple. That was the problem—none of us knew for sure.

  Who would have known, other than Amanda herself? And how could we find out?

  Our will to hunt for spirit energy momentarily stripped from us, we huddled there in the cold that felt colder still, breaths merging into one frozen cloud and thoughts spinning along the same dark path as we waited for our male compatriots to finish. Above us, the moon slid across the sky, full and high and eerily bright. We were still standing quietly together moments later when the far-off roar of a car engine split the night into two. It wasn’t an unusual sound, really. I’m not sure what it was about our isolated country roads that called to the redneck population like a siren singing for a wandering sailor, but there you have it. The pair of headlights swelled bigger, flared brighter as the vehicle charged closer. And with it came the muffled boom-boom-boom of heavy bass. Someone was jamming, big time.

  No one seemed surprised when the old pickup truck swerved into the cemetery’s drive, its arrival accented by a rattletrap clatter and a plume of loose gravel. The passenger door squealed open and Tara half fell, half slid from the cab to the thump and squall of overactive woofers and tweeters.

  “Whoopsie-daisy!” She giggled as she picked herself up and dramatically dusted off her knees and behind. “Well, lookie who we have here, Jamie-honey!” she called to the driver. “A bunch of kick-ass ghostbusters. Including my most favoritest and most loving cousin, Marcus. Come’on out here and meet my cousin.”

  The driver left the pickup with nary a stumble, but his manic grin hinted that he, too, might have partaken of the alcohol that was wafting from the pair in waves. He saluted the lot of us. “Hello, kick-ass ghostbusters.”

  Marcus appeared at my elbow. “Your mom know you’re out of the house, young lady?” he confronted Tara.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Why? You gonna rat me out?”

  “Nope. I’m goi
ng to take you home.”

  “No freakin’ way, Cousin. You don’t want me here, that’s too bad. Don’t think for a minute that you can keep me from staying if I decide I want to be here, too. Last time I looked, it was a free country. You’re not the only one who can shitkick a bad boy spirit into the great beyond, ya know.” Tara snapped her fingers. “Got the goods, Jamie?”

  Jamie of the manic grin pulled a backpack out of his pickup. Digging into it, he pulled out a Ouija board with one hand and a bottle of Jim Beam with the other. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Tara looked at me and winked. “Doncha just love a man who comes prepared, Fluff? I know I do.”

  The two of them stood on the other side of the circle of protection Felicity and Marcus had erected earlier, making no move to go farther despite Tara’s obvious intentions. I couldn’t help wondering if they, or at least Tara, sensed its presence.

  “It’s too late,” Marcus persisted with a calm and patience that truly impressed me. “We’re finished here.”

  “Then you won’t mind us moving in on your space,” Tara responded. “Right, Cuz?”

  “There is nothing here, Tara.”

  “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus,” Tara said, peacock confidence in evidence as she mockingly shook her shaggy head. “You forget. I’m just as good at this stuff as you are. I’ll make my own assessments, thankyouverymuch.”

  Did I say patience and calm? When Marcus set his jaw, wowzer. Look out. “You will do no such thing, young lady.”

  Tara took one step toward the circle, then stopped, frowning in confusion. So, I thought, she does feel it. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  I could feel energy rising, moving around us like invisible zephyrs of air. Nerve-jangling, disquieting energy. Trouble was, I didn’t think it stemmed solely from Marcus’s rising temper. The very notion frightened me.

  I placed a hand on Marcus’s arm. “Um, Marcus?”

  Distracted, he turned on me. “What?” he snapped.

  I took a step back, surprised. I’d never seen him the least bit on edge. Even stranger, there was a hint of urgency to him that confused me further. “The, um, well, can’t you feel it?”

  His brows furrowed, instinct at war with the need for action. Slowly I saw the anger drain from him, releasing the tension that had drawn his shoulders up upon Tara’s unexpected arrival. He turned his face sharply to Liss, but she was already on the move. Without turning, I heard her voice and knew she was moving counterclockwise (Liss would have called it widdershins) around the circle, twisted twig in hand. Her voice, soft yet insistent, echoed in my ears:

  “By the earth that is Her body,

  By the air that is Her breath,

  By the fire of Her bright spirit,

  And by the living waters of Her womb,

  By the Great Mother Herself,

  I release this circle,

  Open, yet unbroken.

  All spirits who have made contact here tonight

  Will here remain.

  Where we go, you will not follow.

  Merry meet, ancient ones, and merry part,

  And merry meet again.”

  She’d released the circle at Marcus’s behest. Immediately a cunning look transformed Tara’s face. Slick as a whistle she bent at the waist to pick up the Ouija board and pointer, lurching as she took a step forward. Watching her, I shuddered as instinctively she reached out a hand to steady herself against the nearest headstone. She was a braver girl than I was, that was for sure. Or maybe foolhardy would be a more apt description. “Whaddaya think, Jamie? How ’bout by the big stone in the center?”

  Of a sudden Jamie, despite his earlier bravado, didn’t look quite so sure. His big booted feet seemed to have taken root. “I—”

  “’Kay, well, this seems like the spot.” She had gone very still, and if a person had the ability to perk her ears, Tara’s would have been standing straight up like antennae. “Geez-Louise, what have you all been doing? There’s enough energy here to power a major-type TV station.”

  She sat down, losing her balance at the last moment and landing with a soft phloomph on her rump. Blowing out her breath, she reached for the Ouija board and set it atop her crossed knees, then twisted around when she discovered her friend had not followed her. “Jamie, what the hell’s wrong with you? Are we doing this or not?”

  The brashness the young man had arrived with seemed to have abandoned him. A shadow crept along the ground, seeping insidiously, darker, darker. He cast a fearful glance upward. My gaze followed the path his own had taken. A line of clouds had appeared as if from nowhere, overtaking the glowing moon and growing thicker by increments. Shadow upon light upon shadow. “Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he said, jamming his hands into the hip pockets of his droopy jeans but not moving.

  Ever attentive to the technology that was his raison d’être, Devin made a slow circle, a device in each hand. “Wow,” he said under his breath. “Double wow.”

  While the rest of us stood by feeling out of place, Marcus walked over to where his more impulsive cousin had assumed the lotus position and was currently trying to induce a meditative state. His quiet words carried back to our ears. Most of us discreetly turned our attention elsewhere. “Tara, it’s not safe here.”

  “In an old tumbledown graveyard?” she scoffed. “Get real, Marcus. If you’re so worried, why are you here? ’Sides, we’re in the middle of nowhere. You know you just want to tell me what to do.”

  “You’ve been drinking again.”

  “Right. So?”

  Marcus blew out his breath and ducked his head as though counting to ten. When he could speak, he said, “You know as well as I do that it’s not safe to work with energy or spirits when you’re not in full possession of your faculties.”

  She snorted. “That’s just a bunch of goody-goody hooha and you know it.” Her gaze flicked to me over his shoulder. I transferred my gaze to the dark fields behind us so that she wouldn’t know I’d been paying attention. “Oh. I see. You’re doing it for the benefit of the Fluffster.”

  “I’ll let that one slide, but only because I’m worried about you. For the gods’ sake, Tara, one of your friends has been killed. It’s not safe for you to be out here.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she said, but her hands had gone still on the planchette. A glower pinched her brows. “And for your information, the Queen Bee was anything but my friend. I’m glad she’s gone. I would have done the binding thing a lot sooner, if I’d known it would be that effective. Besides, I have Jamie. No one’s gonna make a move as long as Jamie here is with me.”

  Marcus lifted his head and shot a measuring stare at “Jamie here,” who had moved while the rest of us were pretending not to listen. He had made it all the way back to his rusting pickup truck. Hand resting on the old chrome door handle, he stood poised to fly at a moment’s notice. As soon as he saw all of us looking at him, he jerked his hand from the handle as though it was iron fresh from the forge.

  “Hmm,” Marcus intoned speculatively. “I’m not sure old Jamie will do you any good. Looks like late-night graveyard forays aren’t his thing.”

  Tara frowned in Jamie’s direction. “Jamie! What do you think you’re doing?”

  The teen jumped, guilt making him whine. “Aw, come on, Tara. Let’s just go get a burger or something, huh? This place is giving me the creeps.”

  “Coward,” she muttered under her breath, then more loudly, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “I’m not afraid. Just creeped out. If you don’t want to leave now,” Jamie offered, his gentlemanly instincts leaping unexpectedly to the fore, “I’m sure your cousin wouldn’t mind if you rode back with him. Hey, man?”

  “What!” Tara looked horrified. She scrambled with some difficulty to her feet. “No. No way I’m tagging along with Marcus.”

  “Well, I gotta go. Are you coming with or not?”

  She hemmed. She hawed. She . . . “Oh, for the gods’ sake! All right, already. You win. Let’s go.”
She stomped-slash-weaved back to the pickup truck, which Jamie had revved into action before she reached the door. She settled herself into the seat, reaching for the bottle Jamie had held on to the entire time. “You’re such a weenie, you know that, Jamie?” she accused as she shut the door, but Jamie was already backing up. Peeling back, in fact. Double time.

  “Wow,” I said, breaking the silence.

  Marcus blew his breath out, shaking his head. “Uncle Lou is going to have a cow when he hears about this.”

  Marcus, I knew, was talking about her underage drinking and, perhaps, the ill-advised use of her natural skills. But I couldn’t help worrying about what else Tara had revealed—that the binding spell I had witnessed her casting had somehow involved Amanda.

  Was it possible? Could Amanda’s death have been brought on by a spell gone bad?

  Chapter 11

  “Too bad Annie wasn’t able to come tonight. It’s probably too selfish of me, but I would kill for one of her brownies right about now,” I told Evie as we approached the outskirts of town. We’d been silent up until then, and I was eager to do anything that would rid us both of the lingering vestiges of the energy that had clung to us since we’d left the cemetery. “Want a pop?”

  Evie hesitated, but shook her head. “Thanks, but I’d better get home. My mom will be waiting up for me.”

  So I drove her home. A thought began to smolder and smoke as I navigated the nearly empty streets, growing more insistent with each passing block. I squelched it as long as I could, holding it in out of uncertainty, but as I pulled up into the Carpenters’ driveway, I knew I needed to put a voice to the worry that was running through my head. I shifted Christine out of gear and set the emergency brake.

  “Evie?” I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Evie, what do you think about Tara?”

  She looked surprised. “Tara? She’s all right, I guess. A little intense, but everyone deals with life a little differently. It’s all good.”

  I nodded, not sure how to proceed. “She seems to have quite the dark side going on.”

  Evie cocked her head as though puzzled. “Everyone has a dark side, Maggie.”