The Georgia I knew was deeper than most people gave her credit for. Some might dismiss the overweight, ebony-skinned, middle-aged woman, but it would be their mistake. We all knew her to be quick-witted, loving, intelligent, and loyal to a fault.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked.
Subtly, she shook her head no, her pain too great to allow for speech. I ran my free hand down her side, unconcerned about impropriety. If she had been struck somewhere else, it was important I locate it immediately. I nodded and smiled at her once I was convinced she had no further injuries.
"Felix, Judy needs you," Iris said, her eyes conveying a sense of urgency.
I'd just settled to my knees, uninterested in leaving Gia's side.
"I'll stay with Georgia," the dignified woman assured me quietly.
"I'll be right back," I said to Gia.
"What's going on with Georgia?" Judy asked as I approached. She sat with Dolly's head in her lap at the edge of the deck. They'd cleared room for the unconscious woman and someone had fetched towels. Judy had put the girls to work, holding compresses against Dolly's legs and stomach. Luana had fared better and sat against the railing with Gabriella tending to her.
"There's a projectile in Gia's neck," I said. "She's losing blood, but still conscious, though I don't know for how long."
"You need to deal with that book," Judy said.
I followed her eyes over to a smoldering pile in front of a hedge of holly. I looked around the once-tranquil deck and shook my head at the bedlam caused by the bespelled book and understood her point. We'd reached a state of equilibrium and Judy wanted no further mishaps.
In a witch's house, components for spells, even those that are common household items, are often found in unusually large quantities. Such was the case with salt, vinegar, and honey in Judy’s home. Opening the cupboard on the porch which doubled as a pantry, I grabbed a dark blue bag of granulated salt and made my way over to the book. Luana's oldest, a ten-year-old I used to call Bug, caught up with me and grabbed my hand as I walked.
"How's your mom, Estelle?" I asked, not sure how much the girl remembered me. I'd spent plenty of time in the past babysitting her and her younger sister Roxanne, but she hadn't paid much attention to me since I'd arrived.
"Mom says she's okay and you can still call me Bug," she said. "I'm grown up, but it's okay. Just don't call me Stella. You didn't hug me when I got here." Like her mom, she was olive skinned and had unusually light green eyes.
I stopped and smiled. "I'm sorry, Bug. You're right, that was rude of me. Do you forgive me?"
She opened her arms and gave me a big hug. I guess she remembered me just fine and I hated that I'd ignored her.
"Yes. You're forgiven," she said.
"We have to be careful with this book. We can't touch it," I said. "Someone enchanted it with something bad."
"I know. It's why Mom said we're not supposed to play with her special books. But she never said they could blow up."
"I've never seen it happen before," I explained. "Mostly, we're worried about your magic combining with a spell that will hurt you or someone else."
"My magic hasn't come in," she said matter-of-factly. "Mom says she was a late bloomer too and I shouldn't worry."
"Not everyone's magic is the same. Your magic might be here already, but maybe you don't know how to find it." It was something we'd seen before. Magic affected people differently. Witches turned out to have the most common magic of all, which was why their numbers were greater than other magical types. "I know one thing though and it's that you're special, no matter what."
Bug bounced along beside me. "Mom says that too, but I think she's worried I won't be a witch like her and grandma."
I didn't have much I could say about that, so I turned to the book that now lay in its own blackened circle. The plumbago ground cover had burned back where it came into contact with the fiery missile. As we closed in on it, the smoking book burst into flame again. "First thing to do is cut the enchantment off from the world around it," I said. "I believe it's drawing power from the witches nearby."
"And wizards," she corrected.
"Right you are," I agreed. "Do you feel anything?"
She closed her eyes, concentrating. I had no idea where the book was gaining energy, but it was a reasonable guess. She shook her head no.
"You might when I close it off." I poured a thick ring of salt around the book.
"What are you doing with the salt?" she asked.
"I'm making a spell circle. It's wizard magic," I said. "Once I form it, nothing physical or magical can enter or exit."
"It’s also necromancer magic," Petaluma said. She'd very quietly approached us from behind.
I acknowledged her presence with a nod. "You're right, Luma. The circle will cut it off from necromancer magic."
In and of itself, necromancy wasn't evil. It was pretty disgusting and dealt with a side of the grave I had no interest in. That said, I'd only heard of evil necros, but hadn't known any firsthand. The thing was, if that's where Luma's magic abilities were, it would be devastating if she were ostracized because of small thinkers.
"I don't know why the book hurt Mom," she said in her normal, quiet voice.
"Sphaera," I incanted. A translucent bubble popped into existence over the flaming book. As it did, I kept an eye on both Petaluma and Estelle. Both girls rocked forward slightly as they were cut off from the book's draw and then Petaluma's face screwed up in pain and she yelped as if she'd been bitten.
I reached out for her in concern. "Luma, are you okay?"
"I feel so empty," she replied, sounding spacey.
I dropped the bag of salt and caught her as she passed out. It was the second time in twenty minutes I'd found myself holding the frail child and the third time I'd rescued her that day. They say third time's a charm, but for me it was a warning. Something was telling me that the girl would need my continued protection.
The sound of an approaching helicopter caught my attention as I stood and carried Petaluma back to the deck. Judy's home was deep in the heavy forest of Sugar Mountain and the nearest place where a helicopter could set down was in the field behind her neighbor's house. I laid Petaluma onto the couch.
"What's going on with Luma?" Judy asked.
"I think she might have been connected to that book," I said. "She's breathing. Bug, stay with her, hold her hand. I need to show the paramedics how to get here."
Estelle did as I asked and I ran around the side-yard, hopped into the Suburban, drove up Judy's lane, and then back down the neighbor's. It had been a long time since the Jenkins’ had horses, although their property was still enclosed by fence. I pulled to a stop in front of the steel gate and waved my hand at the cheap lock that hung on a chain. The chain swung free as I flicked my fingers. I carefully nudged the gate open with my bumper and drove into their pasture which was giving way to the encroaching forest.
The white and red helicopter swung around in an arc, not sure where to land. I jumped from the truck and held my hand in the air, careful to aim well away from the trajectory of the aircraft. "Adoleret." My ruby ring blazed momentarily and three smoky fire balls blooped into the air. I waved my arms and the craft turned in my direction and descended, throwing grass and dirt everywhere. I hastily pulled our luggage and tents from the truck to make room for passengers. Removing the seats was more work, but I was able to remove it just as a man wearing a blue jumpsuit approached.
"Where do we need to go?"
"Next house over. I can drive, but it's through there." I pointed at the thick hedge of trees separating Judy from her neighbor.
"Give us a minute to load equipment." He turned back to the helicopter where two more people had emerged in similar suits.
I drove the truck closer to the helicopter, staying clear of the rotors. Once I stopped, the three quickly placed backboards and portable equipment in the back. Wordlessly, they climbed in, shutting the doors as they did. Adrenaline was flowing
, but I did my best not to speed through the bumpy field.
"Jackson Baskin." The man in the seat next to me announced once we were moving. "We've been on the phone with Iris Besset?"
"Yes. She has some medical training," I said.
"Right. Two people hurt?" he asked as I pulled through the gate and sped down the lane.
"Three," I said. "Four if you count the girl who passed out. I believe Iris is helping prioritize. There is an unconscious woman who was very near an explosion. The second has a piece of shrapnel in her neck and is bleeding. The third is conscious, but has several wounds."
"Copy that. Tanya, you triage the neck wound. Prich and I will see to the others."
Entering the back yard, I chose the least damaging path I could manage. My eyes cut over to the book and discovered I'd kept sufficient contact with my spell circle. The shimmering sphere still protectively surrounded the book. If my passengers saw the magical sphere they didn't mention it.
Gabriella met us at the back of the truck and escorted us to Dolly where Jackson and Prich got to work immediately, checking vitals and calling back to the hospital.
"You're doing really well, Ms.?" Tanya started, as we approached Georgia.
"Gia," I filled in for her.
"Gia. I'm Tanya and I need to get a look at your neck," she said. "You're doing really well and I'm not seeing enough blood to make me think you hit anything important. You up for a helicopter ride today?"
Gia's eyes grew wide as she shook her head slightly side to side.
"Don't be like that, sweetie," Tanya said. "I ride in them every day. They're loud but they'll get us there quickly. Do you have any allergies?"
Gia again shook her head.
"We're just going to take your vitals really quick," Tanya said, wrapping a blood pressure cuff on Gia's wrist. For a witch, it was a particularly sensitive spot, but Tanya had no idea and inflated the cuff.
"Do you think you can walk? It's going to be a bumpy ride back to the chopper. That's why it's not a good idea to ride all the way back down the mountain," she continued in calm, professional tones. There was no way Gia was getting out of the ride, although I wasn't sure she understood that yet. "The doc is worried about damage we can't see with the equipment we brought along. We can bring a board over if you need."
Gia harrumphed and then closed her eyes at the pain she'd caused herself.
"Sounds like you're up for a walk then," Tanya said as she and Iris helped Gia from the chair.
By the time we settled Gia into the Suburban, Prich was climbing into the back, pulling on the backboard where Dolly lay unconscious. It had taken most of the women to help Jackson and Prich carry their friend to the truck and they carefully slid her in.
"We'll get our equipment and get going," Jackson directed.
"What of Luana?" I asked.
"You'll need to bring her down; we don't have room for another passenger."
Evil is as Evil Does
The neighbor, Rob Jenkins, looked quizzically at me as I labored to lift the middle seat into the Suburban.
"Everyone okay?" he asked, standing in his bathrobe and slippers, a cigarette hanging limply between his lips and what I suspected was scotch in a highball glass.
"Not sure," I said. "Sorry about all this."
"At least everyone has their clothing on. Just make sure to lock the gate on the way out and try not to rut up the grass any more than you have," He turned and walked back toward his house.
I shook my head as I loaded into the truck and hurried back to Judy's property. As I pulled into the drive, Iris was carefully loading Luana into the front seat of the mini-van. Estelle, Luana's eldest, had taken charge of the younger girls and already had them buckled in.
"I'm going to follow Iris to the hospital," Judy said, pulling keys from her purse as she approached the Suburban.
"We'll be right behind you. Did Lace leave and where's Petaluma?" I asked not seeing her in the van.
"Mildew and troll spit," Judy said, looking around sharply. "Luma woke just after you left for the helicopter and I think Lace decided she'd had enough for one evening."
"Will Lace be okay?" I asked.
"We're a lot to take in – even without an accident like this," Judy replied. "I guess we'll know if she shows up to work tomorrow."
"I suppose that's right. You go ahead. Gabriella and I will bring Petaluma," I said. "You can't leave Iris to look after all those girls."
"You're right," Judy agreed. "Just so you know, Petaluma is at an awkward age."
I opened the door of the Suburban and jumped out. "What woman isn't?" I asked.
"Funny." She opened the door to her car and slid in.
I walked back along the tracks my Suburban had left in the mat of ground cover that flanked Judy's home. I winced at the crushed foliage, but there'd been no other choice. I took a short cut through the white painted arbor which was covered with vines that were just now waking up after their winter slumber. I recalled helping Judy place the arbor in the fence line several years back and planting the wisteria vines at the base.
"Have you seen Petaluma?" I asked, finding Gabriella straightening up the mess on the deck.
"I thought she left with the rest of them," Gabriella replied. "She's not back here."
"She wasn't out front," I said. "Luma," I called, cupping my hand next to my mouth. Gabriella joined me in calling out for her as we separated, walking out into the grassy part of the yard, just short of Judy's well-tended gardens. The sun was setting and I started to become concerned.
"What's back there?" Gabriella swept her arm at the thick trees just past Judy's herb gardens.
"Several hundred square miles of national forest," I said. "It's what drew Judy to this spot."
"We should check the house," I said, turning back.
"Felix, look." Gabriella pointed at the burned spot, the line of salt interrupted by what looked like the toe of a shoe.
"She's taken it." I said, heading back toward the house. Through the sliding patio door, we entered the simple home and hustled toward the hallway that led to the three bedrooms. "Check the basement."
I swung the door open on my old room. My bed was still there, but the room was otherwise filled with supplies destined for Judy's shop in town; a corner table held candle making tools. The room smelled of pungent herbs and flower extracts. Not finding Petaluma, I quickly closed the door, my sensitive nose unhappy with the myriad of scents. The door to the next room was open and I stepped in. Light blue colors and everything neatly tucked in its place. Once again, the most prominent feature was the smell, although this time lilac gave away the room's primary occupant as Gia.
Finally, I searched Judy's room. Unlike Gia, her room was less organized. Piles of various things littered every horizontal surface. It wasn't as messy as it was cluttered. Regardless, Petaluma wasn't to be found. By the time I made it back into the hallway, Gabriella was back up from the basement, winded. The look on her face told me what I already knew.
"I'm going next door to see if Mr. Jenkins has seen her," I said.
"Should we call the sheriff?" Gabriella asked.
"I'm calling Judy," I said, not wanting to make that decision on my own.
"I'll check the neighbor." Gabriella pulled open the front door.
"Uh. Felix," she said, not stepping through the door.
I looked up from my phone and saw flashing lights atop a brown law enforcement vehicle pulling down the drive. A barrel-chested, middle-aged man stepped from the vehicle, placed a dark-brown, wide brimmed hat on his head and straightened his utility belt. I hung up the phone and stuffed it in my pocket.
"This could be trouble," I said and stepped past Gabriella. About halfway down the sagging wooden steps I recognized the man.
"Deputy Merritt," I said, holding my hand out.
Merritt and I were about the same height, but he easily outweighed me by fifty pounds. Recognition flickered through his eyes and he accepted my hand into his own. Th
e man's burly forearms bespoke considerable strength, but his handshake was just firm with no attempt to cause damage.
"Is Judy home?" he asked. "I received a call from emergency services."
I felt Gabriella's hand on my waist as she stepped to my side. Merritt nodded his head in acknowledgement and touched the brim of his hat. "Ma'am."
"Judy is on her way to the hospital with a friend. There was an accident; flight-for-life was called."
"Flight-for-life is normally under the purview of my office," he said.
"Iris Besset called it in," I said.
"Understood, and you are?"
"Felix Slade and this is Gabriella Valverde. You might remember me from Nightshade and Old Lace," I said. "I used to work there and you'd stop in once in a while."
"Ah, right," he said. "You lived with Judy up until a couple of years back. I wondered if that was you. Would you mind if I saw some identification? Same for you, ma'am."
"There's a girl missing," I said. "A thirteen-year-old daughter of the woman taken in the helicopter." I handed him my driver's license.
"Define missing," he replied.
"We're not sure. We can't locate her, but it got pretty chaotic around here after the explosion," I said.
"Are you sure she wasn't in a vehicle headed to Asheville? Or maybe on the helicopter?"
"We don't think so," I said. "That's why we're looking for her."
"Let's take a look," he said nodding at the house.
"Would you mind if I ran over to the neighbor’s house to ask if he saw Petaluma?" Gabriella asked.
"That would be fine, Ms. Valverde," he agreed.
I pulled out my phone as I led Deputy Merritt through the house and out to the back porch.
"Hello?" Judy answered the phone immediately.
"We haven't found Petaluma yet and Deputy Merritt just showed up. Says he got a call from emergency services," I said. "Are you sure she's not in the van?"
"That's Sheriff Merritt and Luma is not in the van," Judy replied. "I'm turning around."
"Understood. Be careful," I said.
"What happened here?" Sheriff Merritt asked, looking at the remaining chaos. "You said there was an explosion."
Wicked Folk (Witchy World Book 2) Page 7
