“You tried to kill me. You buried my boyfriend.” Now didn’t that sound strange out loud?
Marge glanced nervously up at Sebastian’s impassive face. He was doing his stony-faced, badass grimace. Marge shrank in his grip. “It wasn’t me,” she said.
“Try again,” I said, poking a finger at her Hawaiian print. “I know you’re working with Micah.”
“That’s the thing. He made me.”
“He made you?” She looked so freaked out, part of me wanted to believe her. But I couldn’t quite buy it. “I don’t think so,” I said, trying to sound like the “bad cop.” “I think you panicked when I asked you if you knew where Sebastian was and you used your magic to try to strangle me.”
“Okay, yeah, that’s true,” she admitted.
“And,” I continued, “I think you suggested to Micah that your cemetery would be the perfect place to entomb a vampire. I’ll bet you’re hoping to get something out of it. You made some kind of deal with Micah. The question is, what for? Love?”
“Power!” Marge said, suddenly breaking free of Sebastian.
She launched herself forward as if trying to strangle me. I flung my hands up wildly to protect myself. I grabbed hold of something just as Sebastian came up from behind and pinned her arms. Marge jerked back wildly. I heard a snap. In my hands I held the broken remains Marge’s dog pendant necklace.
Marge was still screaming heebie-jeebies and I thought she might be beginning to speak the words to a spell, so I reached for Sebastian. “Grab my hands, let’s make a circle!”
He let go of Marge, who had been wiggling out of his grasp anyway, and clasped hands with mine. I shut my eyes to visualize a bubble of steel trapping Marge and her power inside. Sebastian’s energy merged with mine with a sudden sizzling pop. I cracked an eye open to peek at him, and he flashed me a “yeah, wow!” smile. We hadn’t had that kind of connection since the night we mingled our energy together to stop the Vatican witch hunters. My magical eye saw a quicksilver sphere completely encasing Marge. She railed against it like an insane mime.
Sebastian and I stepped back to admire our handiwork. Marge’s voice even sounded muted as she continued to hurl insults at us and tell us how no force on earth could stop the ancient power of the Trickster. She pushed her arms out dramatically, like a child pretending to have superpowers, as though she was trying to funnel magic at us.
The bubble didn’t even shimmer.
Sebastian rubbed his hands together. “You’d think she’d at least be making a dent. She used serious firepower to rip out of my grasp,” he said.
I looked down at the broken necklace in my hand. “I wonder . . .”
But before I could finish my thought, the screen door opened. Max appeared with two glasses of iced tea on a tray. He had a paperback novel tucked under his arm. He stopped short when he saw Sebastian and me. After looking at Marge still doing the pantomime against the invisible bubble, he turned on his heels and went back inside without a word.
“You’re not much help!” Marge screamed quietly.
I’d have to agree. I tossed the charm in my hand a few times, waiting for Marge to catch sight of it. When she saw the necklace, she halted her raving. “I don’t think you’re getting much help from any quarter right now,” I pointed out.
Marge’s face crumpled. “You mean the necklace was the source of my power? But . . . but Micah said I was his protégée. He said . . .”
“He lied,” Sebastian pointed out. “You were tricked.”
“That dog,” Marge hissed.
“What do we do with her?” I asked Sebastian. “We can’t keep the circle up forever, not at this strength, anyway. And without the charm, she’s not much of a threat.”
Sebastian considered for a moment. “Let’s go,” he said. “The circle will fade within a day. By then, hopefully, we’ll have dealt with Micah too.”
The things Marge called us as we left scorched my ears.
Once we got back to Sebastian’s farm, I buried Micah’s charm in the cornfield to negate its energy. After I fed Barney, Sebastian treated Mátyás and me to his famous homemade stuffed peppers. As father and son had a heart-to-heart, I snuck upstairs for a long, hot shower. Exhausted, I fell into Sebastian’s bed and slept.
I woke up to the sensation of lips nibbling at my ear-lobes. “Hmmm,” I muttered sleepily, and it changed to an “Oooh!” when Sebastian’s hand cupped my breast. I pushed him away reluctantly. “Mátyás is downstairs.”
“Actually, he’s been out all night. I guess he has a new friend from that coffee shop next to your store.”
Oh my God, Izzy’s getting lucky! I rolled over and tipped Sebastian’s mouth to mine. Well then, I thought, I might as well join her.
Since there were still a few hours until I had to open up the store, Sebastian and I decided to stop at our favorite breakfast place: Ella’s Deli. Ella’s Deli is probably most notable for the large carousel out front, but inside is even stranger. It’s filled with crazy things. There are toy trains that move overhead, weird animated jugglers, and things that pop out at you when you least expect it. It’s a bit like having a kosher-style breakfast at a funhouse.
It was early enough that we had the pick of the place. I chose my favorite table, the one that showed a display of Pez dispensers under the glass top. As we pored over the menu, Sebastian’s foot slid up and down my leg. I think he just wanted a physical reminder of my presence.
After the waitress took our order, I asked, “Are you okay? Really?”
“Torpor normally revitalizes me, but I’m not usually staked through the heart.”
It was hard to believe that was only yesterday. Blood, sex, and several hours of natural sleep had brought back Sebastian’s preternatural “togetherness.” I should be so lucky. I had bed head, resistant dirt under my broken fingernails, and blisters on my palms. My throat was still raw from the attack and the bruises on my knees from my bicycle accident still ached.
I looked up from my menu. Sebastian looked flushed and happy. He’d taken a bit more blood from me this morning, but I knew he’d have to find a more steady supply soon. “Hey,” I asked him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were breaking up with your ghouls?”
“Who told you that?” Sebastian sounded affronted. Of course, that’s when the waiter brought us our plates. I had eggs, hash browns, and toast. Sebastian got a pile of pancakes.
Once we’d unrolled our silverware, I said, “Alison. Oh, and can you please explain your choice there? Please tell me she’s got AB negative or whatever the heck, because talk about high maintenance.”
Sebastian snorted around a mouthful of buckwheat and maple syrup. “I prefer O positive, the universal donor, but I don’t pick them for their personalities.” He chewed a bit more while staring at his plate. “How on earth did you get Alison’s name? She didn’t contact you, did she? I mean, I knew she was upset, but I thought all of that vowing to kill you stuff was just hot air.”
I smacked my forehead so hard I think I left a welt. “You never thought to tell me someone wanted me dead?”
“Alison is such a nonthreat, darling. Anyway, all the ghouls were pretty upset. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Well, guess what? Someone’s been trying to kill me.”
“Yes, but magically. That can’t be a ghoul. Magical practice is expressly forbidden among ghouls.”
What was it Mátyás had said? Someone’s a little rule breaker. I had felt a shock when Alison and I first shook hands. Could she have powerful enough magic? Her aura had seemed almost hobbled by something. Now my money was on Alison. But it could be anyone, really. “Did all the ghouls have the same reaction?”
Sebastian poked his fork through the syrup on his plate, then glanced up at me. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“How many ghouls do you have?”
“None currently,” he said. “But I had seven.”
One for every day in the week. “Do you really need that much blood? How are you goi
ng to cope if you need some every day? I can’t do that. I mean, I would, but I’d be anemic in a month.”
“I’ll cope. Are you saying you think one of my ghouls has been trying to kill you?”
“Well, it’s pretty clear that there’s another attacker besides Micah and Marge. They were both there when someone tried to scorch your roof.”
Sebastian nearly snorted coffee out his nose. “My roof?”
“Didn’t I mention that?” I hadn’t thought to check for damage either. “I think it’s okay. You should probably . . . your house was kind of hit by lightning. Several times.”
“But no one was hurt, right?”
“Right,” I said.
“Still,” he said, taking a big bite of pancake, “I’d sincerely like to kill the responsible party.”
I rubbed my neck. The near-fatal attack was likely done by Marge, so actually, other than property damage, whoever this second attacker was, s/he wasn’t bloodthirsty. Or, maybe s/he just had terrible aim. “It’s possible the damage has all been accidental. Maybe more proof that this is someone who’s a rank amateur when it comes to magic.”
“Hmmm,” he grumbled. “Then maybe I’m just hungry.”
Even though I suggested Sebastian should go home and check on his roof and generally put his affairs in order, he insisted he come with me to the store. “I don’t want you out of my sight until we figure out who’s after you.”
“Fine,” I said, turning my key in the lock. “But stay out of the way. No distracting me while I work.”
Sebastian gave me a wicked grin. “No promises.”
In fact, it turned out the storeroom was an excellent place for a quickie. But despite that, we managed to open right on time. Fresh cup of coffee in hand, I stood at the ready behind the counter.
Not a soul came in all morning.
The midafternoon shift was just as dead. I sent William to nap in the back, blushing at the thought of what I’d been doing back there. But when I checked in on him, I found William with his feet propped up on some boxes and his head nestled against a pile of yoga mats. I sat up front with my head in my hands. Sebastian curled up in the “book nook” reading something about politics and witchcraft. His eyelids drooped, and I thought I heard soft huffs of snores. Watching the door with half-closed eyes, I struggled to keep conscious.
The sound of the fire alarm jolted me upright. I smelled smoke, and my eyes burned. Instinctively, I grabbed the fire extinguisher from behind the counter. I struggled with the pin, but managed to get it out. Then, I rushed through the aisles trying to locate the flames. A smarter woman would have gone out the door to safety, but my only thought was that if the sprinkler system kicked in, like it was supposed to any minute, all the books would be completely ruined and I’d be out of business before I even started.
Sebastian was right on my heels.
In the witchcraft section, I found that a circle in the middle of the wood floor was on fire. The flames seemed concentrated in the center of the aisle, and somehow, they had not reached any of the much more flammable books yet. I let loose a stream of white goop just like the fire marshal taught me during the safety training seminar. Splatters of gunk flew everywhere, not only covering the fire but also splashing the bottom row of books. Still, I told myself, it had to be better than an entirely soaked store, although I wondered if my concerns were moot given the stench of smoke in the air.
William ran past us in the next aisle with a wet rag over his mouth. I heard the bells over the door chime as he threw the door open and escaped onto the street. Two seconds later, I heard the door bang again. “Garnet, are you in there? Sebastian?”
“I’m okay! The fire is out,” I yelled over my shoulder. The alarms had stopped their clamor, but I could hear the sounds of sirens approaching. I was just about to join William outside when I felt something, like a hand, on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to see someone standing there. Instead, I saw a slither of black smoke. As tall as I was, it hung there in the air, not dissipating, just undulating slowly, like a snake.
“Sebastian,” I said, “do you see that?”
Then, it attacked.
The smoke snake dived toward my stomach, and I felt its teeth tear at my flesh.
When I doubled over, I felt Sebastian’s arm around me. The instant our bodies touched the silver cord between us sparked.
As if in response, the smoke creature reared up, as though disgusted or alarmed. It hissed. Although, really the sound was more of an insect’s dry rattle, reminding me of the magical bugs that I’d seen crawling in the ruins of my apartment. “Alison?”
Behind me, I felt Sebastian go taut with anger. “It is her?” he snarled. “Damn it, Alison. Is that you?”
As if sensing Sebastian’s rage, the smoke creature fled, disappearing through a vent in the ceiling. With magical sight, I looked for traces of a signature power. There were bits of energy scattered about, swirling aimlessly like confetti.
I didn’t know for certain that it was Alison, but it certainly was the same power that attacked my house. I didn’t have much of a chance to ponder its significance because the next thing I knew, a bevy of firefighters came bursting through the front door. Just as suddenly, I found myself outside, breathing into an oxygen mask. Sebastian stood guard over me. Everyone wanted to know what had happened. How could I tell them the truth? It was a magical attack, Officer, honest. I couldn’t even offer an explanation that sounded remotely plausible. So, I tried to answer their questions as honestly as I could. “It just looked like the floor was on fire,” I said.
“The floor,” the firefighter repeated skeptically. He was an impressively large black man, who looked striking in the bright, fluorescent yellow of the uniform. “When there was all that paper everywhere?”
His deep, disapproving frown made me suggest another option. “Maybe there was some spilled wax there or something?”
“How did it start?”
I shook my head mutely. “I don’t know. One minute I was sitting there”—albeit half asleep—“and the next, the alarms were going off.”
“Did you see anyone come in?”
I couldn’t lie to that formidable stare. “I had a late night last night,” I said. “I can’t honestly be sure.” Of course, given the long-distance magical attacks that had happened before, I highly doubted that the culprit needed to be anywhere nearby to start that fire.
“Are you hungover?”
“What kind of question is that?” Sebastian snapped.
I felt like I was being quizzed by my father, only my father was never so stern, and I could probably tell my hippie dad about the magic. “No,” I said. “Just tired. I didn’t get any sleep.” And, to be fair, it’d been several nights of little or no rest and then, ehm, a whole lot of physical activity. I blushed again. “I might have dozed.”
Even though I gave him a weak, friendly smile, I got a sense that the firefighter wasn’t terribly impressed with what he saw. “You’re lucky. It’s a good thing you had that fire extinguisher close at hand.” Then he turned to matters of business and I was kept busy filling out forms for insurance claims.
So, it was two hours later that Sebastian, William, and I finally got around to cleaning up the mess. The entire bottom shelf of books was going to have to be thrown out, and when I wiped up the floor, I discovered the attacker had permanently scorched the hardwood.
Sure, just when I was going to buy the place.
I scrubbed angrily at it for several minutes while tears rolled off my face. I’d had enough. This person had gone after my place, Sebastian’s house, and now my store. It was time to take the fight to her.
12.
Eris
KEYWORDS: Strife and Discord
I did something I never do; I closed the store early. It felt so wrong to flip that sign over, but the place smelled of smoke. I might even have to keep it closed a few days while it aired out.
We all stood out on the sidewalk under the awning. I stared an
grily at the darkened interior.
“Do you really think it was Alison?” Sebastian asked.
“Alison? Totally,” William said, from where he sat on a bench tossing the remains of his whole wheat and tuna sandwich to the pigeons. “She has spent some serious time trashing both of you on LJ.”
“What has she said?” I asked. At the same time, Sebastian asked, “What’s LJ?”
“It’s an Internet community,” William told Sebastian. “And, as for what she said, it’s totally not worth repeating. It’s just all a big rant about how Garnet is a psychic vampire who is enslaving you, Sebastian.”
“See,” I said to Sebastian. “It’s got to be her.”
“Just because she hates you doesn’t mean she’s broken the code and started using magic. It could just be coincidence.”
“Except the part where she’s calling for revolution,” William noted.
We both looked at him. He’d gotten the attention of an entire flock of pigeons, who were bobbing and pecking on the ground at his feet, despite the fact that he’d run out of bread crumbs minutes ago. They all scattered with coos and a rush of wings when a bicyclist came past.
“She wrote this whole screed,” William said, “about how the vampire masters are keeping true magic from the suppliers. She had this whole pseudo-historical argument that the first ghouls were Witches and the whole concept of Witches inviting the devil into their coven was really about how they used to be ghoul harems for vampires.”
I was deeply offended by the idea. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, believe me, she got flamed for that,” William noted.
Sebastian was silent. He was the only one of us that was old enough to truly dispute Alison’s claim. I gave him an elbow. “That’s not true, is it, Sebastian?”
“No, of course not,” he said. “Ghouls were most often slaves or indentured servants.”
The social, economic, and political ramifications of that made my head hurt.
Sebastian must have notice my look because he shrugged guiltily. “It was a different time.”
Romancing the Dead Page 22
