What's a Witch to Do?: A Midnight Magic Mystery

by Jennifer Harlow

  “Shirley mentioned that sometimes a human sacrifice is needed,” Andrews says.

  “That’s rare. Most of the time it’s just an animal. It really depends on how powerful and schooled the witch summoning it is.” I pause. “Any luck on the license plate?”

  “It belongs to Brooks McBride. He didn’t even know his car was missing until I told him. Stolen right outside his farm. I’m heading over there now.”

  “His farm borders Hackett Farm, right? I’d check there for the altar. There’ll be strange drawings, blood, salt, and it will probably smell like sulfur.”

  “Okay. If I find it, I’ll call.” He walks away, off to find the demon. The man has my vote come election time.

  “Mona?” Debbie asks behind me. She, Billie, Collins, and Auntie Sara all walk toward me. “What now?”

  They stare at me expectantly, apprehension all over their faces. I’m their leader, the person with all the plans and answers. But I don’t. Beyond getting everyone protected, I haven’t a clue what to do next. I don’t know how to find this demon, let alone the person responsible for bringing it here. I’m out of ideas. But as I look at them, fear in all their eyes, I straighten my back and hold up my head. They need me, and a general never lets down her troops.

  “What now? Now we fight back. No one brings a demon into my town and gets away with it. Y’all with me?”

  “Hell yes,” Billie says with a smile.

  “Good. Then let’s find the bastard.”

  Find the demon

  There isn’t time to think or be tired. There’s a crowd outside the shop when Billie, Alice, and I arrive, all clamoring to demon-proof their lives. Within an hour, I’m out of every type of amulet, altar, oil, and rune that can be converted into a protection charm. The herbs go even faster. I have to start sending people to the grocery store to get their sage and cloves, though I doubt Kroger’s has burdock. I’ve already ordered more but it won’t arrive until tomorrow, which means I have a lot of pissed off, scared witches yelling at me. I let them.

  Things slow after hour two, and by hour three the place is damn near empty. I send Alice to help the ten witches who called the shop for assistance and leave Billie up front to handle the stragglers and telephone calls so I can get a few minutes of peace in the back. Adam glances up from the computer and map as I enter. Since he couldn’t work on the shelves with a stream of witches filtering in, he took it upon himself to track the demon and coordinate with the sheriff. The map of the town next to him has a few dozen dots with times written on them, starting right on the northern outskirts of town and ending on the south side where farms begin again.

  “Sheriff called again,” Adam says. “The blood at Hackett Farm wasn’t human.”

  “Thank the goddess for small favors,” I say as I fall into the chair next to him.

  “And George Black e-mailed you. All the women except for Cheyenne don’t have criminal records. What’s more interesting, she was given a speeding ticket last month two miles from Lord Thomas’s club, Croatoan. He’s still waiting for the financial statements.”

  “Did he write anything about the demon?”

  “Just what we already knew. He did say the second it harms someone, he’ll send the team to help us catch it. Until then, neither it nor the person who summoned it can be arrested.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know that when this thing explodes my brain with its mind, the F.R.E.A.K.S. will stop by to mop it up.” I rest my aching head on the table and close my eyes. “I want to sleep for a year.”

  “You just need to eat something.”

  “I don’t want to get up. People will just keep asking me questions or hollering at me. I hate being the leader. Cheyenne must be batshit if she wants this job. Hell, at this point, all she’d have to do is ask.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re too damn good at it.”

  “One of the witches under my supervision raised a demon right under my nose. Priestess of the Year for me.”

  “This isn’t on you, and considering the circumstances, I think you’re doing a hell of a job. They all know what to do, how to protect themselves, and they know no matter what, you’ll get them through this.”

  “You sound so sure.”

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  I sit up, once again looking at him in awe. Who is this guy? “Shut up.”

  He grins again, and I get a little flutter in my tummy. His whole damn face lights up when he smiles. Not many people’s do that. They should. The fluttering grows worse when he pats my hand. “Come on,” he says, pulling me up. “I think we both need a shitload of caffeine and sugar. I’m buying.”

  “No. The yelling will start again,” I whine.

  “I won’t let anyone yell at you,” Adam says.

  I pout. “Promise?”

  “I’m your bodyguard, and that includes stopping irate witches from getting in your face.” He holds out his hand. “Come on.” I take it.

  Billie is cleaning up the herbs when we walk out. Her eyes immediately dart to our clasped hands, and she raises an eyebrow. I hadn’t even realized we were still hand in hand. I pull mine away, using it to smooth my hair. “We’ll, uh, be back.” Eyes to the ground and hands in my pockets, I lead the way to the diner. That was a close one. I’ve given the gossip mongers too much to work with this week already.

  When we’re about two stores down, my cell rings again. Can’t I get even ten freaking minutes of peace? Nope. Never. I answer. “Hello?”

  “Mona?” Brandie asks, voice quaking. “Oh thank God.”

  I touch Adam’s arm, and we stop walking. “Brandie, what is it? Are you okay?”

  “I—I felt it, I mean I feel it. I think it’s nearby. Can you come?”

  Adam and I exchange a knowing glance then take off running toward the parking lot. “Brandie, I am on my way, okay? Have you put up the sigils I gave you?”

  “Um, yeah,” she says, “I—I don’t see anyone outside.”

  We reach my car and leap in. “Stay away from the windows, okay? It can sense you too.”

  “It can?” she asks on the verge of hysterics.

  “Just start burning sage. We’ll be there in a few minutes. You’ll be fine. It doesn’t want you.”

  “How—how do you know? Aaron’s been catting around with someone. She might have brought it here to kill me!”

  Adam raises an eyebrow, and I shrug. The phone beeps to tell me I have another call. “I doubt it, okay? Be there in three minutes. Just stay indoors.” I switch to the other call. “Yes?”

  “Mona, it’s Meg,” she whispers. “It’s here.”

  “I know. I’m already on my way. Just burn sage and stay behind the sigils. It can’t get you. I’ll be there soon.” I hang up. “They live a few houses apart,” I tell Adam.

  “What do you think it’s doing there?”

  “Cheyenne lives down the street from them.” I drive over the railroad tracks into the south side with its tract houses almost on top of each other and separated by chain link.

  “Do we have a plan?” Adam asks as I make a quick right onto Cheyenne’s street.

  “You’re supposed to be the tactical expert. I—”

  I feel it. That same prickling of skin sprouting gooseflesh and rock in my stomach. I slow the car down, scanning the houses and cars for people.

  “Mona?” Adam asks.

  “Tell me when you feel it too.”

  We pass Brandie’s house with the GTO on bricks in her driveway. The twisted lines like ivy made up of incantations is painted on the door. At least she can get sigils right. There’s no movement between the houses or in the parked cars. Meg’s house, which she shares with Belle, is two down. There’s nothing out of the ordinary there either. Cheyenne’s is the last house on the right with the dying lawn. Her car isn’t in the driveway. There aren’t any sigils either.

  “I think I feel it,” Adam says. “Keep driving.” I just see more of the same, a whole lot of nothing but houses in need of paint
and a million cars until we reach the next intersection. “Turn here and park.”

  I do as he says, stopping in the only space available, in front of Maxine Bell’s ranch house, Cheyenne’s grandmother. “Okay, it’s around here. Now what?” I ask.

  “We find it and kill it,” he says before getting out of the car. “Pop the trunk.”

  My Girl Scout leader would be proud to know I follow the “Be prepared” motto even after all these years. Shotgun, salt, spray paint, potions, charm bags, silver daggers, even holy water. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Adam begins, taking out the potions and shotgun. He hands me the bag with the rest. “You’re going to drive back toward Cheyenne’s, stopping a house or two down. I’ll be shadowing you through the backyards. You get out of the car and walk to her house. If it’s outside, it’ll try to take you there.” He pulls out the pentagram amulet that matches mine. “This thing makes it so it can’t affect you psychically, right?”

  “Right. It can’t get into our mind or spirit, but if it can throw a car with its mind or bend space/time, they won’t do a lick of good.”

  “If it could do either of those, it would have last night when you were on the porch. We’ll just have to take that chance. So it comes into the open for the attack, I come out firing, hopefully blowing its brains out.”

  “If you can’t?”

  “Then while I keep its attention, you draw that trapping sigil. I’ll do my best to get it in there, and you send it back to hell. Sound good?”

  “Sounds awful, but I don’t have any better ideas.”

  He rubs my arm. “You’ll do great. Just keep your eyes open.” He steps away, but then a second later turns back around. “Look, if something happens to me … I want you to run. Don’t try to save me, just run. Pick up the girls and drive to Jason’s. Vivian will convince him to help you. She likes you. Force him to take you in. Don’t—”

  “Nothing is going to happen,” I say forcefully. “Not to you, not to me. You promised, right?” I squeeze his hard biceps before shutting the trunk. “You die, I swear I’ll bring your ghost back and make your afterlife a living hell.” I squeeze one last time. “Be safe.”

  “You too.”

  As I move toward the car door, my partner rushes to the nearest house. I start up the car, turn around in Maxine’s driveway, and slowly drive back toward Cheyenne’s. The only citizens outside are old Cray Bradshaw talking to a pretty brunette I can’t place at the moment. They ignore me as I pull into the one spare spot on the street. There are so many cars parked I can’t keep my eye on them all. I shut off the engine but can’t move. I don’t want to get out of this car. I know the demon can get me in here, but I don’t want to be exposed. And Adam’s out there. He’s not afraid. He’s tough. Brave. Of course he has a shotgun, and I have spray paint and sage. Still. I’m not leaving him out there alone.

  I throw the door open, grab the bag, and force myself out of the car. Every muscle in my body is strained as I stand. The birds chirping on the power lines above work my nerves. What if the demon can control animals? I could become the star of The Birds II. They don’t swarm, but I still don’t loosen up as I walk toward Cheyenne’s. My skin is actually starting to ache now from the demon’s power, like it’s stretched too thin, but the street remains quiet. What the hell is it waiting for?

  The amulet around my neck heats up like last night, and I press it against my chest. He’s trying something psychic. Maybe when that fails he’ll come at me physically. Having no idea what else to do, I walk up Cheyenne’s driveway to the door. Still nothing. I’m close to quivering in terror now. Maybe it’s inside. I glance back but the only signs of life are Cray and his chatty companion. Okay, I can’t just stand at this door. I touch the door handle and deadbolt, closing my eyes and calling the magic. I whisper, “Patefacio.” The locks click and I step inside, locking them again behind myself. Nothing attacks me in here either. The amulet cools.

  Cheyenne’s house is not in the best shape with cigarette burns on the carpet and cheap posters of rock bands on the walls complete with ratty second-hand furniture. I especially love the beer can pyramid on the coffee table surrounded by ashtrays full of joints. I open the sliding glass patio door and step into the backyard with plastic green table and chairs covered with more beer cans. “Adam?”

  He steps from the side of the house. “Nothing.”

  “It tried to put a psychic whammy on me again,” I say.

  “Then it has to be in a car or house watching you.”

  “Then why not attack—” And the prickling stops. “Feel that? It’s gone.”

  “It must have realized you were protected and left to regroup,” Adam suggests.

  “You think?” Somehow I don’t buy that. “Should we chase after it?”

  “We don’t know which way it went. We’ll track it through calls like before.”

  I check the bag for my cell. Not there. “My cell’s in the car. Crap.” I sigh. “Okay, you start searching the house. We’re here, might as well make the best of my felony B&E. We’ll stay until we get a tip.”

  “You’re the boss,” he says with a smile.

  I rush through the house and back outside onto the empty street. My cell is on the dash where I forgot it. No new calls. With most people at work it’ll be harder to find him, especially if he leaves town again. Just have to get lucky, I guess.

  I walk back toward the house, but as I’m about to step inside, a woman shouts, “What the hell are you doing?”

  I spin around and find Maxine, Cheyenne’s grandmother, striding down the sidewalk. She’s a tiny woman with wild gray hair and is dressed in stained blue sweats as always. She looks a lot like Granny, as they were half-sisters, though Granny’s scowl didn’t turn you into stone like Maxine’s. “Hello, Miss Maxine,” I say with a smile as I step back out.

  That petrifying scowl doesn’t waver. “I’ll ask again, Mona McGregor, what the hell are you doing going to my granddaughter’s house when she’s not there?”

  Oh hell. “I, uh … demon. You didn’t feel the demon?”

  “Of course I did,” the old woman huffs. “What does that have to do with you breaking into Cheyenne’s house?”

  “Uh, Meg said she saw a man go in. We thought it might be the demon. Door was unlocked and all.”

  Almost on cue, the door opens. “There’s no trace of it,” Adam says as he steps outside beside me, shotgun swung over his shoulder. “If it was here, it isn’t now.”

  If possible Maxine’s scowl grows scarier. “Who is that?”

  “My cousin A.J. Cal’s grandson. He’s my backup. A.J., this is Cheyenne’s grandmother Maxine.”

  He nods at her. “Nice to meet you.” He turns to me. “It’s not here. We should go.”

  “Yes, you should, before I call the sheriff,” Maxine says.

  Adam shuts the front door. “Ma’am,” he says with a grin. We start down the driveway. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Maxine folds her arms over her chest and follows us toward the car just in case we make a break for it. Adam climbs in the car, but I turn back to Maxine. “I didn’t see you at the meeting this morning. If you like I can bring you the protection packet I gave out. You really should put up a sigil at least.”

  “Don’t you talk down to me, Mona Leigh McGregor. I know how to protect myself a lot better than you.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Just because you’re the High Priestess and live in that fancy house don’t make you better than me, little miss.”

  There’s no point fighting with this woman. Many have tried, all have failed. You can’t reason with crazy; you literally get spit on.

  “I am sorry if I offended you. Have a nice day.” After another smile, I jump into the car and drive away as fast as I can, the old witch glaring even as we turn the corner. “Bitch.”

  “What was that all about?”

  “Oh, uh, old resentments. Daddy loved your granny best, so I must take it out on everyone, including
people who never met the bastard. Not really her fault. Couldn’t have been easy growing up illegitimate back then. Cheyenne probably bought into her poison.” I shake my head. “You find anything in there?”

  “I barely had time to check the closet.”

  “We need to get back into that house. The demon was around there for a reason.”

  “We’ll think of something.” He pauses. “We make a good team.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Happy Family Fun Time

  With no new calls, I drive around town aimlessly for half an hour on the off chance I’ll sense it. No such luck. We do use the time wisely though. Having no fresh leads and a growling stomachs, we return downtown ready to implement “Operation: Hoochie House,” the closest thing to a plan we have, revolting though it may be. I relieve Billie so she and Adam can go to the diner for lunch. Adam returns ten minutes later with our cheeseburgers, a piece of blackberry pie for me, and a date for tonight with our prime suspect. He’ll get her out of her house so I can break in and search it. Easy and hopefully effective. Though when he tells me it’s on, for an instant—mind, just a fleeting, barely-even-there instant so I don’t even know why I’m mentioning it—jealousy rips through my body like a vengeful spirit eating my soul. But just for an instant. Okay, several instants. Only about twenty or so.

  The rest of the relatively customerless day is spent installing bookcase shelves and prepping for the rest for the renovation, which means cleaning and moving merchandise. The store is even more cluttered and claustrophobic than usual, but I can see how it will all come together in the end. The day’s events and manual labor soon begin to take their toll. I’m yawning every thirty seconds. After I break into Cheyenne’s house, I’m going straight home and flopping into bed. Adam leaves at two thirty to pick up the girls, and seeing as I’m the boss and it isn’t nearly as fun remodeling without the odd appreciative glance at my handyman, I decide to close early. We had a banner day fiscally speaking; probably the best ever. I’ll thank the demon before I send him back to hell.