“When?”
Before Rhiannon could answer I lurched forward, clutching my belly. “Somebody help me to the bathroom! I’m gonna puke!”
When I woke up, the first thought I had was to wonder who the hell poured battery acid down my throat. Then I opened my mouth to tell whoever was banging on a set of drums to stop, but after a few seconds I realized it was just my own head pounding. That was when a wave of nausea churned from my belly to my throat, and I rolled out of bed and onto the floor with a thud. Crawling on hands and knees to the bathroom, I was in the middle of a dry heave when Rhiannon tapped on the door.
“You need any help in here?”
When my stomach temporarily had the message that there was little or nothing available for upchucking, I sat back on my haunches and leaned my forehead against the toilet seat. “I can’t think of a thing you can do to help me now besides kill me.”
I immediately regretted the words as memory of my vision slithered back into my consciousness.
“Not funny, Lynlee. Not funny at all. Besides, I did a damn good job of holding your hair last night when you were puking your guts into that very same commode.”
“Ugh …”
“But you probably need fluids to fight dehydration as much as anything. Get back into bed, and I’ll be right back.”
Back into bed was exactly where I wanted to be, but the time for wallowing was over and done. Instead I crawled my way up and to my feet, groaning and moaning like an old woman the entire time. When Rhiannon came back into the bathroom, I was already in the shower, standing under a pulsing hot stream of water and hoping it could wash the nasty feeling of drunkenness out of my system.
“Here ya go,” my friend said, sticking her hand through the shower curtain and handing me a cold bottle of blue sports drink. I quickly opened it and tipped it back, chugging loudly.
“So while you’ve been sleeping it off, I’ve been working my ass off.”
“Where’s Beck?” I interrupted.
There was a period of silence, and I popped my head out of the curtain, careful to keep my private parts hidden. “What?”
“Well, you started hurling, and he sort of just stood back and watched me take care of you. He hardly said a word. When you finally passed out, I tried to talk to him, but he just showed me the guest room. I don’t even know where he slept because I don’t think he came in here.”
“Yeah.” I skulked back into the shower and finished up, my heart sinking a little as I tried to imagine what might be going on in his mind. He hadn’t wanted to love a witch, but he’d fallen for one anyway. He didn’t like the idea of magic creeping into his otherwise normal life, yet he was suddenly impotent because of a curse. His first wife had died years earlier, and now the woman he planned to make his next wife would likely be dead within a few days.
That had to be a lot to digest for any man, even one as special as Beck.
“So last night I got hungry and went rummaging for food in your house. I found this memoir diary thingy. Did you read it?”
I yanked a towel off the rack beside the shower and wrapped myself up in it before stepping out. Rhiannon was perched on the toilet seat with Charley’s book in her hand. “I read a lot of it. But I fell asleep before I finished it.” And then I had a vision predicting my death, I thought as I abandoned her to walk into the bedroom.
“So she was jilted by her lover. By her own sister. That must just totally screw up a mind, don’t you think? And clearly in her case, it turned her absolutely bonkers. Can you believe what she did?”
While I rummaged through my drawers for some clean clothes, I shouted towards the bathroom in answer. “I didn’t get that far. I read when she said people had to pay or something like that.”
When Rhiannon exited the bathroom gesticulating with excitement, I took the opportunity to enter it, clothes in hand. I shut the door except for a single crack. When I peeked out, I saw that she’d taken a seat on the bed and had her finger on one page of the book.
“She says, ‘It became my life’s work to market wedding gowns. They were each of them beautiful, stunning. And every single one carried the curse which would ensure an unhappy marriage for many a couple. The curse would keep them from ever consummating their vows. It would slowly eat away at their souls until the day they died.’”
I had on a clean shirt now, and I was just wiggling into a pair of jeans when I heard the words my friend quoted from the book. “Holy crap,” I muttered, hopping out of the bathroom. “You mean Grammie Charley cursed the dress? It was her?”
“Yes, she has the words for the curse right here. Said she bought it from a Voodoo woman in Louisiana.”
“This doesn’t sound like Charley. She was sweet and kind.”
Rhiannon tossed the book on the bed. “Yeah, but she got ‘nice’ after she fell in love again, Lynlee. His name was Robert Tyner, but she called him Bobby. A few years before the Great War, he and his fiancée purchased a gown from her. But they never got married. His fiancée left him, and he and Charley met again in Paris. And apparently he taught her how to forgive. He wanted to marry her, but she said in the book she couldn’t do it. She didn’t feel worthy of it after what she’d done to all of the couples before. The curse is really bad. Some of the men went completely insane and were committed to asylums. And there were suicides and illnesses.”
I approached the bed and sank down to sit beside Rhia, “Well, considering the time period we’re talking about, divorce was unheard of, and if the intimacy of the couples was destroyed, that wouldn’t make for a happy marriage. Plus the whole eating away of their souls part ...”
“She took back the wedding dress he’d bought for his first love, and she kept it all that time. It couldn’t be destroyed, and believe me, she tried. So she just held onto it and lived out the rest of her life alone, no family at all.”
“Why wouldn’t she put a warning on it? I mean, she left me her house and all her stuff. She had to know someone would put on that dress.”
Leaning back behind me, Rhiannon grabbed the book again and turned to one of the final pages. “‘I’m the last of my family. There are no more Gould descendants. One day, my time will come, and then the threat of the curse will disappear. That is my only solace.’”
“Do you know what this means?” I asked, staring off at nothing, my shoulders sagging.
“The curse is way stronger than she thought?”
Rubbing my lips with one hand, I shook my head and frowned. “Nope, no way this curse still exists if her entire line is gone. She’s got some unknown relative out there. And whoever it is, we need to find him. Or her.”
When I looked back at Rhiannon, she had her lips curled up in a confused frown. “How do we do that?”
I groaned, leaning against my knees to put my head into my hands. “I guess we’ll start with Granny. A witch will know once she reaches the afterlife that she has an heir to her magic somewhere. It should be easiest for her to find her relative.”
“Let’s get going then,” Rhia stood and put her hand out to me. “And maybe between Granny and Charley, they can come up with a way to break the curse. I mean, ‘cause the curse has to be connected to your death vision, right?”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but she looked so hopeful, I hated to break it to her. I mean, to my knowledge no witch had ever foiled her death vision. Fate was stronger than witchcraft.
“She isn’t here, Lynlee,” Granny told us with a solemn expression. “My people and I have searched everywhere, and she hasn’t arrived in the afterlife yet.”
“She died over five months ago. What do you mean she isn’t there?” We’d been waiting for Granny to locate Charley for at least an hour, and to say my patience was waning was an understatement.
“Well, first off, Lynlee, time passes differently in the afterlife. Also, people do not just arrive here instantly. Some of them linger.”
I gestured my hands in question. “Where?”
“The in-between.
Purgatory, Granddaughter.”
“Wow, that really exists?” Rhiannon asked, her mouth agape.
My eyes rolled, and I waved her away. My magic mirror was small so the only way she could see was to lean over my shoulder. Her hot breath against my neck was irritating the hell out of me.
I decided Rhia’s question could be considered rhetorical and didn’t wait for Granny to answer but instead just dove straight into one of my own. “How long does one have to stay in Purgatory?”
Granny lifted her shoulders. “It’s different for everyone. Mine was only a matter of weeks.”
That sounded really strange to me. I didn’t think Granny was necessarily a bad person, but she had her faults, and I had a hard time believing those wouldn’t have required a longer time for purging.
“It’s mainly up to the individual to decide how much purifying is necessary,” she added.
“That explains a lot,” was my muttered response. She only stared at me with a cold smile.
“Tell her,” Rhiannon said, giving my shoulder a little shove.
“Tell me what?”
My BFF didn’t wait for me to respond, just stuck her face in front of mine to reach the mirror. “She had her death vision. It told her she’s going to get stabbed in a few days.”
“Already? I expected you would have decades, possibly a century.”
She didn’t sound nearly as devastated as I felt about it. “I pissed off a warlock a few years ago. He might be looking for me. But Rhia thinks the curse may be behind it. She thinks if we break the curse …” My voice trailed off.
“Lynlee, the first thing you should know is that the hereafter isn’t all bad. If you do come here sooner rather than later I mean. And second, well, the death visions are always right. Always. But that hasn’t kept most witches from trying.”
“I understand, Granny.”
“If it happens, I’ll be here. The in-between and the afterlife work that way. The people you need, the people you know, will immediately be available to you. You won’t have to be alone.”
Rhiannon sniffed beside me, and when I glanced at her, I saw that she was crying. I reached out my hand for hers and squeezed it. “No matter what happens with the vision, I need to break the curse. For Beck, I have to break it. Any suggestions?”
“Oh yes,” Granny nodded, pondering that a moment. “Now that we know more about how it works, I think you should try the Parandus Potion. It’s intended to repair breaches in the natural order. I think this qualifies, loosely anyhow. It is very strong magic, one of the strongest I know of and it’s in the book.”
I nodded, then started to put the mirror away.
“Lynlee.” She waited for me to look at her again. “The potion has an odd assortment of items needed. Some of them quite rare.”
I understood her warning. If they were rare, I might not have time to find them all. After she was gone, I thought about that a moment, then nodded my head as if agreeing with myself.
My friend was still sniffling a little as she watched me put away the mirror and grab the velveteen Crown Royal bag that held my crystal ball, not-so-affectionately called Henrietta. And no, I did not name my crystal ball. The sphere itself had notified me that she was to be addressed as Henrietta long ago. And since it was difficult enough to get what I wanted out of her, I of course complied.
Standing, I turned to Rhiannon. “I’m hungry. Let’s make some nachos.”
I got busy setting up the living area with Henrietta as well as a whole slew of candles while Rhiannon made us some thing to eat. My stomach was still a little weird from the previous night’s drinking, but I always craved nachos the day of a hangover. I had faith in my BFF’s abilities to prepare a massively tasty dish of chips, cheese, chili and peppers. When she came into the room, I wasn’t disappointed.
“So what’s the deal here?” she asked, setting the plate down between us. We both dove in, stuffing huge, messy bites into our mouths almost simultaneously.
“So the deal is this,” I began with my hand to my mouth to keep me from spitting food all over the place until I could swallow. I picked up my family’s spellbook—it was heavy enough it required two hands—and placed it between us, then flipped it open to the page I’d marked. “There are almost two pages of ingredients here for the potion. We don’t have a lot of time, and some of these will require a lot of work to get.” I left out the part about some of them being virtually impossible to find. “So our best bet would be to find the heir to Charley’s magic first. Curses have lots of rules. The person who places the curse has virtually no chance of breaking it on her own. Sort of like making your bed and having to lay in it. But a magical heir, she—or he— would have a chance at it. So if I can find that person, we might be able to break the curse with their help even if we can’t make the potion.”
“So you think Henrietta can help us find the heir?”
“I think it would be quicker to try her first and see where that gets us, then if not, we’ll start gathering items for the potion.”
“Never fear, folks. The goblin is here!”
Both Rhiannon and I looked up to see Tig standing in the doorway, a cocky grin on his face. There was a time that my former mentor would not have entered my home uninvited. But since I’d moved in with Beck, he seemed to be under the mistaken impression that it was suddenly okay to pop in without notice.
“What are you doing here?”
He approached and grabbed up a nacho, bringing it to his mouth, a trail of cheese hanging down his lower lip. “Beck called,” he responded, chewing. “Said you got the death vision and might need help.”
A harrumph escaped my lips. “What the hell? Why doesn’t he just purchase a billboard or something?”
“Lynlee, you should know that I …” Rhiannon started but was interrupted when a magical pile of sand appeared just beside her, and her boyfriend Sandy slowly transformed into flesh.
“He knows, too?” I hissed, standing up.
“Hey, we just want to help,” Tig said just before stuffing another nacho into his mouth.
“These are mine.” I snatched the plate out of his reach and scarfed down a big messy chip.
My mentor left the room, and I wasn’t entirely surprised when he returned a few minutes later with a cold beer in his hand. Even though that was totally in character for him, it pissed me off. I snatched the bottle from him as he sat down on my couch. The front door opened just as I grumbled, “That’s mine too.”
“Umm, no those are ours, and I don’t think after last night, you need any more alcohol,” Beck said with a tone to his words that I didn’t particularly like. Still, I handed the bottle back to Tig and continued munching my nachos.
“Tig is right, Lynlee, we all just want to help. Now you just said we don’t have much time, so if we spread out the work, that will be all the better.”
I knew my BFF was trying to help, but I wasn’t ready to speak. Instead I just continued eating and thinking, which made the former process go very fast and the latter particularly slow. When the dish was scraped clean of all remnants of chip, cheese, chili and pepper, I set it aside. All eyes in the room were on me, a tension so thick that it might have suffocated all of us.
Finally, I took a deep breath and spoke. “Since you all know, I guess there’s no reason not to put you to work.” I pointed to Rhiannon. “Can you grab a pen and pad over there?”
She dutifully did as asked, and when I had them, I began to scribble things on two separate lists. As I did, I explained the things we’d discovered so far. “So Rhiannon and I are going to use my crystal ball to scry for Charley’s missing heir. In the meantime, we need to gather the ingredients for the potion Granny thinks we should use. Tig and Sandy can work together on the magical stuff, and this other list is more ordinary things that you can get, Beck …”
I paused when I saw the hopeful look in his eyes. He smiled, and I wanted to cry. Instead, I sniffed hard and then set the spellbook aside. Except for Rhiannon, I
hadn’t told anyone the specifics of the death vision. As I’d thought more about it, I realized it had probably occurred right here on Beck’s property. “Also, Beck, the cauldron we got from Charley’s house. We’ll need that, but I don’t want to set it up here. Pack it up into the truck and take it to the Gilliam Church grounds.”
“Why there?” he asked, his brow furrowed in question.
I’d worried that maybe this was all too much for Beck, and he was going to cut me loose, but here he was, jumping in to help. I was touched beyond words. “Just trust me,” I whispered to him, then turned away to stare off into space.
“Tig.” When I said his name, my mentor stopped studying the spellbook and snapped to attention. “I also need you to contact someone and check on the whereabouts of Travis, Susan Abernathy’s partner. One of my MAUCs got information that suggests he could be out and might be coming after me.”
“Sure thing, girlie. I’ll contact …” He cleared his throat, and I knew he was about to say Prieto. “… someone high up.”
Tig and Sandy both got up from their seats. One by one, all of the men left the room, and my BFF and I were alone again. She had her head down so that her brown locks were covering most of her face, but she peered up at me through them.
“Let’s get started.” I pulled Henrietta out of her bag and set her in front of me. Rhiannon, knowing the process, began lighting the assorted candles I’d laid out around the room.
After she settled in across from me, I closed my eyes and spent some time inhaling and exhaling long and slow. I needed to meditate, but my mind and body were wound so tight, I wasn’t sure I could manage it.
Someone you seek to locate? Henrietta murmured to me in my head. I breathed a sigh of relief that she was responding so easily.
“There was a witch by the name of Charlaine Gould. I need to find her last living relative.”
You seek to harm this person?
Her question startled me, and my eyes snapped open. Rhiannon couldn’t hear my crystal ball’s words, but I still had a guilty feeling slither up my spine. Of course I didn’t seek to harm them. True, killing the heir to Charley’s curse would end it, but I wasn’t a monster. I didn’t kill unless absolutely necessary.
Reaping Trouble (The Lynlee Lincoln Series Book 4) Page 5
