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

by Jennifer Harlow

  I leap out of the car, taking off in the opposite direction. A few seconds later I all but throw myself into Adam’s arms, hugging onto his gray sweater with all my strength. Why this makes me feel so much better, I don’t know. He squeezes back. “Did it hurt you?” he asks, breathless.

  “No.” I pull away and take his hand. “Come on.”

  Bethany is helping the still shaky Clay up when we reach them. “Was that the demon?” Bethany asks, voice quaking.

  “Yeah. We need to get up to the club,” I say. Bethany’s breath becomes ragged, and I follow her gaze. Lilith stands and brushes the dirt off her clothes. “Now.”

  “I got her. Go,” Adam says.

  “What? No! I’m not leaving you!”

  He grabs my face, rough palms pressing against my soft cheeks. His hard blue eyes burn into mine. “Mona, help your friends. I’ll be fine, I promise. Go.”

  He’s right. I nod and he releases me. “Don’t let her touch you.” I throw Clay’s arm over my shoulder like Bethany has, and we start running as best we can. Clay can barely keep his feet moving. My back, my arms, my legs all cry out in pain as we trudge up the hill.

  “What did she do to him?” Bethany asks.

  “Sucked out his life force,” I pant.

  “Will he be okay?”

  Tears fall from my eyes. “I—I don’t know.” He’ll be fine. We all will. If that bitch so much as musses Adam’s hair … no. He’s strong. He’s got an amulet, he can take her. He has to. He promised.

  A minute later, far too long, the bored valets spot us, immediately toss down their cigarettes, and run over to us. The boys take Clay. “What happened?” one asks.

  “He collapsed,” I say, now completely out of breath. “Call an ambulance.”

  Bethany follows the men into the club, but when she sees me staying put, she stops. “Mona, what—”

  “Take care of him. Keep everyone inside. I have to go back.”

  “No, Mona, no. That’s suicide.”

  “Bethany, keep everyone inside,” I say, my voice hard. “That is an order.”

  I grab a lighter from the valet stand, the closest thing to a weapon available. Maybe I can set her hair on fire. I spin around and sprint down the hill again. Nothing. There are no sounds beyond my footfalls on the pavement. No birds, crickets, not even the wind. This is so stupid. All I have is a lighter and tiny knife. I don’t even have my kit. My kit! It’s in the trunk. Salt, charms, potions. Good. A plan.

  The prickling starts sooner this time, right when the bridge comes into view. Where are they? If that bitch hurt him … I full on run now, scanning the horizon for her. But I don’t find her, I find him.

  Oh fuck. No.

  As I run over the bridge I see a body floating face down in the creek. My pounding heart comes to a standstill. He looks dead. He is dead. Goddess, don’t let him be dead.

  Without a second thought, I leap off the bridge and wade into the creek. The cold water only reaches my knees but people have drowned in less. I put the lighter into my cleavage, grab his body, and hoist it up onto the creek bed. There’s a gash in his head that’s still bleeding and the beginnings of a black eye, but his head is otherwise intact. Except he’s not breathing, and he doesn’t have a heartbeat. He could have been in the water for ten seconds or two minutes. I have to do CPR. I—

  A hand touches my bare shoulder, and all the air is sucked out of my lungs. I don’t think, I react. The ground violently shakes while the wind gusts. The hand is gone, but I fall flat on my back on the muddy creek bed beside Adam’s cool body and my athame. I reach for the athame. Lilith is up before me, slim hand once again reaching for me. One swift upward movement and the blade jams through that hand. Screaming, she stumbles away as I find my feet. She pulls the blade out of her hand, tossing it to the ground. “Bitch.”

  Crouching, I let loose another gale, knocking her down again, before I spring up and take off running. There is nothing else I can do but pump my legs as fast as they’ll go away from her. I used to make fun of people in horror movies who ran into the creepy house or an isolated area, but I never will again. When a psychopath is chasing you, it’s very hard to strategize. The only two words that cycle through my head are run and faster. My feet are taking me up the hill to the club. I have maybe a five-second head start, which from her nearby cussing I quickly lose because she’s in better shape than I am. “Stop running, Mona,” Lilith calls, “you’re just pissing me off!”

  I keep going but don’t get far. Since my life has become a horror movie, I do what the victim always does. I trip and fall. I’m so shocked I scream until the wind is knocked out of me when my stomach hits the ground. That’s it. I’m done. My body won’t move. I’m going to die. The girls will be orphans. Cheyenne will take over the coven and ruin it. I’ll never get married or have children of my own. No man’s ever truly loved me. It’s so fucking unfair.

  The demon grabs my wrist and flings me onto my back with a triumphant grin on her pretty face. The air is sucked out again like a vacuum. My heart rate increases ten-fold from overwork. I watch as my veins rise to my skin like worms, and my skin turns to ice as she pulls the life out of every one of my cells. She glows like a lantern as my life becomes hers. If I had breath, I’d scream. Did Adam feel like this when she killed him? Oh, Adam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

  Within moments the world becomes fuzzy, and I have the strongest urge to fall asleep.

  “What the … ” Lilith says, staring behind me. I don’t have the energy to look but there’s no need to. What looks like a battalion of super-bright fireflies glides over me like a wave toward the demon, swarming her.

  “This way!” I hear a woman shout.

  Lilith releases me to swat at the horde enveloping her. Sprites. She’s being attacked by spirit energy. I gulp the air back into my lungs and cough. “They’re here!” Bethany shouts.

  Four people—Bethany, Dickie, cousin Julie-Ann, and Erica—all run into the clearing toward me. Bethany rushes over to me, cradling my coughing body, and the other three move toward the overwhelmed demon. There isn’t an inch of her that isn’t engulfed by light. Erica waves her hand, and the sprites fly off. That’s when I notice the Glock in her other hand, which she raises like Dirty Harry. “Ruin my party?” Erica fires twice into the demon’s head. I almost vomit over Bethany as the back of Lilith’s head explodes, tiny particles of blood and skull flying like fairy dust. The body crumples to the grass in a heap beside me. Hell’s bells. “We don’t have much time before she recovers,” Erica says.

  “Cut off her head?” Dickie suggests.

  “What with?” Erica asks.

  “Cleaver from the kitchen?” Dickie asks.

  “Look at her! She’s already healing! We don’t have that kind of time!”

  “Does anyone know a ritual to un-summon it?” Julie-Ann asks.

  “Dear Lord in heaven,” Erica mutters. “Yeah, I carry all the ingredients in my bra!”

  The fog has cleared from my head enough to actually form a thought. “I have an idea.” Bethany helps me up, and the world spins a little. “Erica, I think I’ll need your help. I’m a little weak right now.” She hands the gun to Dickie, before I take her hand and fall to my knees on the ground. She does the same, and we place our hands on the grass. “Call deep, deep into the soil and ask it to part.” She nods. We close our eyes and push our power into the earth. Within seconds, it starts to rumble and fall in on itself. I open my eyes just as a slim crack parts in the grass. It’ll do. “Push the bitch in.”

  Dickie picks up the still unconscious demon and chucks her down into the abyss. Erica and I close the crack. That’s the end of that. She’s either crushed flat or it will take her a hundred years to claw out of there. It’s over. “Thank you,” I say to Erica, who nods.

  “Is it over?” Julie-Ann asks. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  “Are you okay?” Bethany asks me. “Do you need a doctor?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” />
  “What about Adam?” she asks.

  Oh crap. “Adam! He wasn’t breathing!” I leap up and start running again even though I’m still dizzy. “Get a doctor!”

  What felt like seconds before when I was chased feels like hours as I race back to the creek. No. He hasn’t moved an inch or regained consciousness. I fall to the ground beside him, resting my head on his chest. Still no heartbeat or breath. “No, no, no, no, no,” I whisper.

  Dickie and Bethany stop a few feet away. “Is he dead?” Dickie asks.

  That word hits me like a knife to the gut. “No!” I roar. “Help me!”

  I start CPR, hesitating only a millisecond about putting my mouth on his. Some of the creek water dribbles out of the side of his mouth. “Come on, Adam, please,” I mutter as I pump. I press and press with all my strength. It’s enough. It has to be enough. I have to stop the second round of chest compressions for a second to wipe my tears because I can’t see. I breathe into him. Once. Twice. Another round, then another. My arms are killing me, but I push the pain away. Fifth round, still nothing. I can do this. I will do this.

  A minute passes. No reaction. Fuck. This isn’t working. Why isn’t this working? It has to work. I look down at him and gasp. He’s so pale, so peaceful. That beautiful light of his has vanished. Extinguished. He’s gone. He’s … left me. I pull my hands away. It’s over. He’s …

  No, a voice inside my head says. No! He wouldn’t give up on me. Never. Rage fills me like an invading spirit. You can’t have him. Not today. He’s mine.

  With all my strength, I pound over his heart. More water dribbles out. “No!” I shriek with another pound. “No, you will not do this! Not now!” I slap his face more from fear than anger. The tears can’t stop now. I start CPR again, breathe into him, and then let a sob escape me. “Don’t leave me alone! Fight!”

  “Mona … ” Bethany says, touching my shoulder, “he’s—”

  “No!” I breathe twice into his mouth again and start compressions. “He cannot leave me! He promised!” My arms are close to buckling and there are spots in my vision, but I keep going. I will until the ambulance gets here. “You promised,” I whisper. I place my mouth on his, my tears rolling off my cheeks onto his eyes. “Please, don’t leave me.”

  “Wait! His eyes!’ Dickie says. My lips touch his again, and his body jerks. Adam sputters water into my mouth with a cough, and I pull away. His body is wracked by coughs as more water spills out. He’s … he’s … I’m too happy to do anything but sob. Dickie smacks Adam’s back to help as Bethany chuckles from joy.

  “Oh god,” Adam croaks. “Ow.” The three of us chuckle at the absurdity of that statement. Adam grabs onto my skirt and pulls his head into my lap. I can’t stop chuckling and crying, even as I kiss his wet hair then plant kisses in his cheeks and forehead. “What—what happened?”

  “You died,” I chuckle/cry. “Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”

  “Oh. Okay. I promise.”

  I don’t take my arms off him until the ambulance arrives.

  Go to the hospital—again

  Medical mysteries become miraculous recoveries. Both Clay and Adam fight going to the medical center, but Bethany, Dr. Sutcliffe, and I all insist. Though he may be a complete asshole, he is a good doctor. Bethany rides with Clay, Sutcliffe with Adam, and I follow behind in Auntie Sara’s Monte Carlo. My car will have to be towed, thanks to the four flat tires, and as I drive, I arrange for Clay’s and Bethany’s to be taken to their homes. Least I can do after almost getting them killed.

  I refuse to leave Adam’s side even as Dr. Sutcliffe examines him while occasionally shooting daggers at me. Doesn’t penetrate my armor a lick. He checks Adam’s lungs and heart, both of which are going strong. Less than an hour ago he was dead and now he’s sitting up in bed, holding my hand and asking when he can leave. Sutcliffe can’t find a single thing wrong with him except the rapidly healing gash and black eye. In light of tonight’s revelation and his intense need to stay as far from me as possible, he listens when Adam gruffly tells him where to stick his blood tests and CT scan. I do convince Adam to stay another hour attached to the monitors just to be safe. He passes out the minute the doctor leaves. Dying takes it out of you.

  Clay is on the mend too, though I don’t know if it’s to do with the electrolytes being pumped into him or the fact Bethany is fussing over him. I called Auntie Sara from the car to tell her to bring the girls to her house since I didn’t know when I’d be home and the phone’s been ringing off the hook. I had her do a little research on Lilith. All Clay needs is twelve hours of sleep and a few good meals. There should be no permanent damage. He and Bethany look so cozy smiling and whispering, so I just slink away. At least some good came out of this mess.

  Adam is still asleep when I return. I stand at the door, staring at him. He looks so peaceful lying there, my heart wrenches. I almost lost him, a voice whispers inside my head. My stomach lurches at this thought. If he died, I … I feel fresh tears coming and push them away. He needs me strong. I sit next to him, take his hand, and rest my head over his beating heart. I fall asleep to that strong rhythm.

  THURSDAY TO DO:

  Get Adam to bed

  Check on Clay

  Send Erica a gift basket for saving

  my life/accusing her of murder

  Work

  Pick up my car from the garage

  Send e-mail about dead demon

  E-mail George

  Help set up for the festival

  Wedding rehearsal

  Gas up Sara’s car, new tires on mine

  Video store

  Finish fixing the shop

  Clean the litter box

  TWO HOURS LATER, AROUND one in the morning, we’re woken by the nurse with Adam’s discharge papers. Dr. Sutcliffe’s orders. They’re keeping Clay overnight for observation. He’s asleep, so we drive Bethany home. We’re all silent for the few minutes it takes. It’s been a night. Bethany thanks me for the ride home, and I wait until she’s inside before pulling away. I owe that woman my life.

  I thought he’d sleep the second he got in the car, but Adam just stares out the window. His clothes were covered in mud, so they gave him sweatpants from lost and found and a white undershirt. The black eye is already yellowing and I doubt he even needs the bandage over his cut anymore. He died tonight and still looks good, except for the scowl. As the minutes pass, the scowl deepens as he grows angrier and angrier to such an extent I can feel it coming from him.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “I’m fine,” he replies harshly. “Fine. Fine!” he says as he hits the door hard enough to shake it. He growls then runs his hands through his hair, making it stick up.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I just, I … nothing. Forget it.”

  “No. Talk to me.” I touch his hand. “Please.”

  Violently, he pulls his hand away and bunches it into a fist. I tense, not because I’m afraid he’ll hit me—I know he’d never lay a finger on me—but he would hit himself. As we drive under a streetlamp I see the twinkle of tears in his eyes, which brings fresh ones into mine. I am a damn wreck. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. “I failed.”

  “What?”

  He turns to me, eyes wild. “I failed you! I couldn’t protect you! You had to save me! You would have died if they hadn’t shown up. It’s my job—mine—to keep you safe. And I failed.”

  “You didn’t fail me, Adam,” I say, voice cracking. “You—you died trying to protect me. You were dead, Adam! You had no breath and no heartbeat for minutes because of me. Don’t you fucking dare beat yourself up. Me. Be angry at me for putting you in that position. You died because of me.”

  “You brought me back,” he says.

  I roughly wipe the tears off my cheeks and sniffle. “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place! My life is not worth yours! I am not worth it!”

  He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Yes, you are.”


  I pull into my driveway and shut off the car. “I’m really not.”

  I’m about to get out of the car when he grabs my wrist, pulling me back in. His serious eyes bore into mine. My breath catches. “You are to me.”

  A million emotions run through me as I stare into those eyes. Fear, joy, apprehension, and I can’t handle a single one of them right now. “Let go,” I whisper. I yank my arm away and leap out of the car. All the lights are turned off in the house, but I don’t need them. I run up the stairs into my safe haven, turn on the light, and slam the door shut. The world needs to go away. I can’t do this anymore. He—

  I gasp when I see myself in the mirror. My once glorious hair is now a frizzy mess with some patches plastered to my head and others sticking up. I have dirt and mud all over my body and black splotches on my cheeks from the mascara. The dress, Granny’s beautiful dress, is caked in mud and ripped on the side. Fat bitch … monster. I’m an idiot. I am such a fucking idiot. I close my eyes but that offers no relief. The image of Clay lying in that hospital bed morphs into Adam on the ground the moment I actually considered giving up. I almost gave up on him. He almost …

  My eyes fly open, and I start to hyperventilate as huge sobs escape that cannot be contained.

  “Mona?” Adam asks as he rushes through the door. His warm arms wrap around me, and I practically collapse against him. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just breathe. Breathe.” I inhale but the sobs don’t stop. “Good. There you go, baby.” I cling onto him, digging my nails into his back. He hugs me tighter.

  “I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m so sorry.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Nothing.” Another kiss to my forehead follows. “Oh baby,” he says after another kiss. “Don’t cry.” Another kiss. “Don’t be sad. Don’t cry.” And another. “It’ll all be okay. I promise.”