“Oh. Thanks. It’s my aunt’s house. I’m just staying there while she’s in Europe. Uh…about the haunted house. The reason I’m there working as a fortune teller is because I’m trying to find an old book. I was said to be the owner’s Book of Shadows—”
I choked on a dumpling. Oh fuck. I should have realized this was the person mom said wanted to find that book. It made perfect sense. A wanna be witch looking for an old Book of Shadows.
“You okay?”
I grabbed the napkin and wiped my face as Jemmy sat down beside me and started flipping through one of the books on the table. “Oh.”
“Nona told me you were looking for it too and that you might have found where it could be?”
“I found a room on the other side of that door where they start the haunted tours? I just didn’t have time to look.” I remembered the weird painting. “Have you been in that room?”
“Yeah.”
“You know anything about that painting over the desk? The one with the woman in it?”
Rhonda narrowed her eyes. “There’s no woman in that painting. It’s supposed to be a rendering of the woods behind the house. Someone said a family member painted it.”
The hairs on my arms stood on end. I wasn’t nuts. I’d seen a little woman in that painting. And she’d moved. I hadn’t seen her move, but she did. And she’d pointed at that damn door.
Mom set a thick white candle in front of Rhonda. The black wick was long and curled at the top and I recognized it as one of the candles from the mantel in the botanica. “You’ve seen what Zoë can do and you know what Jemmy and I can do. Now I need to see what you can do and if you have the potential.”
“Potential?” Rhonda asked.
“Yes. For magic. Real magic, dear. Not that bullshit you were doing in the basement. The fact you can see Zoë when she OOBS—”
“Oobs?”
“Goes Out-Of-Body,” Jemmy interjected as she turned pages.
“—affirms to me that you just might have it. But you’ve never been trained. So while Zoë eats and regains her strength, let’s see you light this candle.”
I munched as Rhonda looked around the table and shrugged. “I don’t have a match or lighter.”
“I want you to light it. No other means.”
Ah. I knew this trick.
Rhonda stared at the candle. Her brows knitted together until she looked like Bert from Sesame Street. After a good few minutes she shook her head. “That’s impossible. No one can light a candle with their mind.”
“Ah, then I see the first lesson.” Mom reached out and pinched the candle for a few seconds before she quickly pulled upon the wick. It sparked and flamed blue and then settled into a steady yellowish light.
I understood the principles of how it worked. But I could never do it. I wasn’t magically inclined. I felt like I had the better super power though.
Rhonda’s eyes were goose eggs.
I finished up the bowl and burped. Mom thumped the back of my head and I rubbed it.
Mom then pinched out the flame with her fingers and stepped back. “Rhonda, press the wick hard and in your mind think of depriving it of all oxygen. Think of the properties of fire, the hermetic ones, and believe that when you pull up you’re giving that wick back its life. Don’t say it can’t be done, because you just saw me do it.”
I finished up my tea as Rhonda mimicked what mom did then pulled up—and removed the burnt wick from the candle. She opened her fingers and it was stuck to her skin.
I laughed.
Rhonda looked upset, then she looked pissed off.
The nib of unburned wick smoked, sputtered and then a three inch blue flame shot out of it. Second later it winked out and a long thin wisp of smoke streamed from the doused flame.
Jemmy looked over at the candle and then at Rhonda’s shocked face. “Yeah she’s got it—but she’s got a lot of anger too. Need to work on that first, little bender, or all your wants will eat you alive.”
“I did it…” Rhonda said in a soft voice. “I actually did it.”
“Yes, and you did it without touching it.”
She looked at mom. “Can you do that?”
Watching mom’s face I caught something there I didn’t like. It was the same flicker of sadness she always gave me when I asked her about my dad. “No Rhonda. I can’t. But I think we all know you have the potential. I will agree to give you custody of that book when you find it on one condition. But I will talk to you about that in private.”
My jaw dropped. “Hey, I’m being paid to get that book for that guy.”
“I don’t trust him Zoë. In fact I don’t trust either of your present clients. For now, I suggest the two of you should work together to find the book. And quickly. Halloween is tonight and that house will be crowded.”
“Then I suggest more dumplings,” I said as I pushed the chair out and grabbed up my bowl for another helping. Rhonda nodded and followed me into the kitchen to help herself.
I wasn’t sure I wanted a partner to do this, but I did need help when it came to timing.
I just couldn’t get the image of that exploding wick out of my mind. I would hate to imagine that as someone’s head.
• • •
I sent JGrayson an email telling him that I hadn’t found it yet but I had a few more rooms to explore tonight. If I couldn’t find it by then I’d be refunding him his money. After that I showered, snacked again and then got into Rhonda’s car.
“What is this thing?” I had trouble getting my knees out of my face.
“It’s a Rav4. It was my brother’s car and I inherited it when he died.”
“When did he die?”
“Last year,” she started it and pulled out on the road. “I don’t want to talk about it so let’s just say it’ll do for now. But I’d like to get a Volkswagen Beetle.”
Ick. Another tiny person car. “So, you always wanted to be a witch?”
“Yes and no. I liked it in the movies and I think I kind of romanticized it. Didn’t realize the reality was a bit more complicated. I also didn’t think I could do anything magical until I saw you the other day and I really thought I’d exorcised one of the ghosts at Dead Corse.”
“Dead Corse? Shouldn’t that be dead corpse?”
She stopped at a red light. The day was overcast, which made the changing leaves on the trees even prettier. They looked like they’d been spot colored on a monochromatic background. “Corse means corpse. Just a fancy-schmancy way of saying it. Dead Corse is the name of the Haunted House for the company, but the house itself was owned by the Durgans, old Irish family. Allegedly the matriarch was a witch from Cork. She disappeared a decade ago. Rumor is she had a book of Book of Shadows that had its own legend in Ireland. It contains the secrets of a hundred years and its cover is made from the skin of of a Durgan warrior.”
Ew. “And you want it why?”
“Because it’s supposed to have spells in it. Secrets of a hundred years? Doesn’t that just scream want?”
“No,” I made a face. “It screams gross, human skin, Purell.”
Rhonda laughed. “Either way this guy you got the email from to find it? Jack Grayson? He’s the missing matriarch’s grandson and he’s been trying to get his hands on the book since she disappeared.”
“So—why not just go into the house himself and look for it?”
“Because he went to jail for a while and the house went into foreclosure right after she vanished. The guy that bought it has been in talks with a land developer about leveling the house and selling the twenty acres piece by piece. The developer’s wife is a cancer survivor so he talked the owner into renting the mansion out so they could do the Haunted House for charity.”
“Ten years? Why so long? I mean, what’s holding up selling it?”
“The will. It stipulated the house would be sold when it was ready to be sold.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I have no idea. But it’s exciti
ng isn’t it?”
I gave her a sideways look. Phreak.
There were a few cars in the side driveway and the security guard checked Rhonda’s ID. I gave the dead trees around the place the once over. Every other tree in the neighborhood up to the Durgan property still had a bouquet of fall leaves. Trees on the property?
We’re talking the Dark Forest.
This was the first time I’d seen the house in the daylight.
Once parked Rhonda reached behind her. She retrieved a huge backpack and started rummaging in it. “I want to try something. It’s a hunch on a theoretical application of a spell I’d found that supposedly came from this particular BOS. I discussed this with Nona and we came to the conclusion this might work.”
Riiiight.
When she pulled a gold pocket watch with a long chain out of the backpack I laughed. “What is that for?”
“Timing you. It’s going to take a few applications, but I think time is definitely your kryptonite.”
First clue that Rhonda Orly was a nerd. Heh.
I took the pocket watch. It was nice and well polished.
“Put it in your pocket.”
I did, though it took a bit of wiggling in the seat as well as some turning. I wore tight jeans.
“Now do the OOB thing.”
I hadn’t tried to OOB since I woke up and I was a little afraid too. That last experience scared me. I leaned the seat back, closed my eyes and did my thing. I’m not sure I can describe what it’s like or how. It’s just something I can do. Sort of like seeing the image in a Magic Eye picture.
Rhonda gasped as I opened my eyes. I was half sitting in my body. The physical part reclined and the ghosty me sitting up. “Okay, now what?”
“That…is just cool as shit,” she grinned.
I like her.
“See if you can pull the watch out of your pocket.”
“I can’t touch physical things.”
“Just try.”
I did as she asked—and to my surprise—my fingers closed around the cool, smooth surface of the pocket watch. With my own shocked expression in full view I pulled the watch out of my physical pocket and popped it open. The face of it changed. It no longer showed the standard twelve numbers, but four, each one placed in the four quarters of the circular face.
I showed it to her. She reached out and her hand went through me and the watch!
“This is so awesome,” she said. “To finally see something work! Now, notice the face? Watch as the minute hand goes down? The four at the top is the number of hours I think you should limit yourself to in a twenty-four hour period.”
“Why four?”
“Because that’s what I came up with talking to your mom and Jemmy on how long you’ve been OOB before and it didn’t bother you. So from now it’s counting down four hours. See?”
Now that she explained the watch to me I could see the count down. “Only four hours?”
“We can always change it if you can stay five. But for now, let’s work with four. And since it’s moving, we need to get going. Stay OOB ’cause I can’t get you in there without an ID.”
We covered my body with the big black blanket and headed inside.
None of the actors were there yet. It was still early in the day, just after four. A few workers in plaid shirts, hard hats and utility belts were there fixing minor damage created from the lines of people coming and going. You’d be surprised how much damage a person can do just standing in line. They get bored and start picking at shit.
No one was in the staging room, aka the living room, when we stepped in. I beelined it to the door then stopped and glanced at the painting.
Rhonda was right. There wasn’t a little woman in the painting. It was all just woods.
I swallowed and moved through the door.
It’d been dark the night before so I hadn’t gotten a good look at things. Afternoon light filtered through a single window to the right of the door. The room was definitely a study or an office of some kind.
A large desk took up most of the floor space to the left, facing the window. A portrait of the house hung on the wall behind it and it looked like it was the same artist as the one in the living room. I moved through the desk to look at it. The painting appeared to have been created when the house was in full occupancy. The trees were all in bloom and the sky was blue. There was even a little figure in white in the woods to the right. It looked like the figure of a woman in a long dress.
I froze.
It was the same woman I’d seen in the other painting.
Whoathat’sfreak’ncreepy!
I had shivers on top of shivers as I backed away from that painting and kept my distance. The rest of the space was wall shelves full of books and a few open spaces where plaques and framed pictures hung.
“Well?” Rhonda said on the other side of the door. I couldn’t unlock it for her.
“I don’t know. Can you pick a lock?”
“Not a padlock. Crap, should have brought bolt cutters. Oh wait, someone’s coming.”
I got to work, looking around the shelves, under the desk, sticking my face in the desk drawers. Nothing. I didn’t seen anything that looked like a Book of Shadows ’cause well, I didn’t really know what I was looking for.
Standing in the middle of the room I reached into my pocket to check the watch. I’d been OOB for twenty minutes tops. Wow. I liked this thing!
I glanced up at the painting just past the watch’s face.
And froze.
The thing had changed just like the other one! The leaves in the painting were no longer green and in bloom, but were now bright oranges, yellows and reds. Leaves littered the ground around the house and the little white figure was now closer to the house.
“R-Rhonda?” I called out. “I think we have a little problem.”
She didn’t answer.
Crap. She said someone was coming. Maybe they had her leave the room? I slipped my watch back in my pocket and took a step back to the door. I needed to sieve through and go tell her there were haunted paintings in this house!
The door knob turned a few times. Someone was messing with the padlock. I moved back and watched as the door opened. Rhonda stepped through and her face looked a little messed up. She’d been crying and the right side of her face was red and swollen. This bastard had hit her!
Another figure came through the door just behind her. One of the workers. Only this one had a gun pressed to Rhonda’s head. Rhonda held up her hands.
“Where’s your partner? I don’t see her”
“They’re not in here. I told you I was alone.”
He hit her with the gun and she stumbled forward. He stopped her from falling by grabbing the back of her hair and pulled her to him. The gun was dangerously close to her face. “Liar. Now you tell your partner to come out of hiding. I heard you talking to her and I heard her answer you. Do it now or I shoot you.”
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.
What was I going to do? I couldn’t let this jackass hurt Rhonda—I didn’t even know what it was he was here for. Was he a burglar? Thinking with the Haunted House going on here the security would be less tight? And if so, what did he think was here to steal? The only idea that came to mind was a pretty stupid one but I needed to take his attention off of Rhonda. I moved to the desk and through it—and looked at the painting again.
The leaves were nearly gone now, the sky cloudy, and the figure was next to the house. The hairs all over my body stood on end as I ducked down behind the desk and crawled under it. I made myself as corporeal as I could and hoped this guy could see me. This didn’t always work because sometime they just never saw spooks.
“Hey…don’t shoot. I’m here. Don’t hurt her!” I called out.
“See? I knew she was in here. Stop hiding so I can see you.”
Moment of truth. Either he’d see me or he’d just get pissed off even more and start shooting the desk. I moved back as if coming out from under it, even thoug
h I could move through it, and then stood. I could tell the way his gaze tracked me he could see me.
“Wow…you’re a tall one.” He moved the gun. “Get from behind there so I can see you.”
I moved from behind the desk, careful not to walk through something. Not that I thought he’d notice in this dim light or given the fact he was holding a gun. “What is it you want? I doubt all these other workers in here are part of what you’re doing.”
“Shut up.” He looked around the room. “Well, is it in here?”
“Is what in here?”
“The book, you bitch!”
Rude! I put my hands on my hips. “What book?”
“The Durgan Book of Shadows. I know it’s here!”
Wait a second. Of all the people who would know about this book, what were the chances of all three of them being in the same house as opposed to this guy being the one person who brought the book to my attention? I narrowed my eyes at him. “Jack Grayson?”
Nailed it.
His face went blank in surprise. Rhonda shoved him back ran to me. Well, she ran behind me. “How…how did you know? How could you possibly know who I am?”
“Because you wanted me to find that damn book you asshole,” I felt my bravado returning now that he wasn’t pointing a gun at Rhonda. “Why the fuck are you here?”
“You’re the girl on Craig’s List?”
“Yeah,” I glanced at the painting. FUCK! The trees were bare and the little figure was in the doorway of the house. I looked behind Jack Grayson and the open door of this study. “So why didn’t you let me finish the job?”
“I thought you’d steal the book when you found it. Something told me I needed to come here and get it myself.”
“So you knew it was in this room?”
“No, I just came in here and saw that crazy chick talking to a door.”
Oh. Made sense.
He lifted the gun and pointed it at us. “Now, where is the book?”
“I couldn’t find it.” I moved in front of Rhonda, though I was pretty sure if he shot me the bullet would go through and then it would just be pointless. “I looked all over this room.”
“Liar. You want that book for yourself. It’s magic, did you know that? It’s got the secrets of the universe in it. And I plan on using it to play the lottery.”
Dead Corse Page 3
