Not Just Voodoo

by Rebecca Hamilton

His scent hit me, that fruity, heady scent that made me want to lick him. I exhaled and slammed my laptop closed.

  “Nothing.”

  “Daria?” There was warning in that tone. A warning I recognised all too well.

  I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  Those words were laced with magnetism, and I was unable to resist. I raised my reluctant eyes and stared straight into his icy blues.

  “I thought we’d been through this…were you cataloguing our cases again?”

  I wanted to say no, of course not, but my mouth seemed to develop a mind of it own. “Yes. It’s gonna make me some money some day.”

  He lowered his lids, releasing me from the compulsion. “Dammit, Daria.”

  “Don’t do that. You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

  “And you promised you wouldn’t keep a log of every bloody little thing we do.”

  He stood and stepped back, shaking his head. “You know what, do what you want. But if they find out, then you’re on your own.”

  I glanced up at him sharply, fear closing its icy fist around my heart. Did he mean it? Would he throw me to the wolves like that? Suddenly, the forty thousand word document on my laptop seemed like a ticking time bomb.

  I flipped it open, accessed the file, my curser hovering over it. I right clicked and hit delete.

  Gone, it was gone.

  Ethan was silent so I risked another peek at him, only to find him staring at me with the strangest expression on his face.

  “What? I deleted it, okay?”

  He blinked and straightened. “Good, now get some sleep. We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow, and an even longer night.”

  I didn’t know what time it was. I could see the moon through a gap in the curtains. I could hear Ethan’s breath, deep and even. He was fast asleep. I didn’t know how he did it. Out like a light no matter what we had on the horizon, and, man, we’ve had some scary crap to deal with. He was like a machine; a sexy machine, but a machine nonetheless.

  Rules, work and the ethic. Always with the ethic, the warlock code, except now the council was gone, probably dead for all we knew. But still he kept to the code, and still we travelled helping those in need, and funny thing is, even in this post-apocalyptic reality, people or creatures that needed us, found us. It was almost as if it was meant to be, as if we were meant to be. Not in that way, of course. Ethan was…He’d saved me, kept saving me. He gave me focus after everything that had happened. I couldn’t believe it’d been almost a year since he’d taken me under his wing.

  I closed my eyes, determined to enjoy the bed, the sleep and the connection to technology. Tomorrow we’d be travelling into a pocket of crazy, and goodness only knew if we’d come out unscathed.

  Goodness only knew if we’d come out at all.

  2

  A POCKET FULL OF NOTHING

  I knew when we hit the Pocket because the car died. Just sputtered and died right there on the side of the dusty road in the middle of nowhere.

  Ethan calmly pulled out the keys and pocketed them. “You ready?” His eyes were fixed on the road ahead—red sand and azure skies.

  I wasn’t sure that I was, but I nodded anyway, because that’s what he expected.

  Without another word he opened his door and climbed out. After a moment to send a prayer to the powers that be, I followed, crawling over the gear stick and out his door. Mine was jammed, had been for a few weeks now, after the lycanthrope incident, after the world had gone to crap.

  He waited patiently while I pulled myself out of the car, stumbled, righted myself and brushed stray strands of my mousey hair off my face. That was another thing about Ethan, he didn’t like to touch. I could count on one hand the number of times he’d made physical contact with me. I knew he wasn’t a monk. I’d seen him leave a bar with women before, but he always returned fifteen to twenty minutes later. And me? No action, nada, for almost a year and, honestly, I was okay with that.

  “Daria?”

  “Huh?”

  “Stop it.”

  “What?”

  “Your inner monologue thing. Now’s not the time, save it for night time, when you’re busy not sleeping.” Ethan slammed the boot of the car, shouldered his backpack, then slung me mine.

  I caught it midair and swung it onto my back. It was heavy, but I could manage. Months of training had turned my body to lean muscle and sinew. The odd chance I did get to look at myself naked showed me a body that belonged to someone in one of those action movies.

  “You miss it, don’t you?” Ethan asked.

  “What? My flabby body?” I shook my head. “Nah.”

  Ethan frowned. “What? No, I mean England.”

  My lips formed an ‘oh’ and I ducked my head. “Yeah, sometimes. Most of the time. All the time.”

  I smoothed my rumpled T-shirt and frowned at the line of cars that dotted the landscape. I counted fifteen, maybe more, all stalled like ours.

  Ethan set off down the road, his boots kicking up dust. I picked up the pace, having to walk twice as fast to keep up with his longer strides.

  Being short sucked.

  We passed vehicle after vehicle. I glanced into the first few. Saw mobile phones, bags, a doll, a car seat. They’d probably had to abandon their cars and walk out of the Pocket. We’d have to push ours out. Why hadn’t they thought of that?

  “Okay, so you know what to expect, right?” Ethan said.

  “Yeah.”

  “No freaking out.”

  “Dammit, Ethan. I’ve been doing this for long enough to know when to keep my cool.”

  “Good.”

  We walked in silence, or Ethan walked and I jogged. The sun beat down on us, unrelenting and brazen, and my body was covered in perspiration in a matter of minutes.

  Ethan, on the other hand, looked fresh, cool and unaffected. It was always the way in one of these Pockets.

  Must be the amped-up magic.

  Being a warlock meant the Pockets were Ethan’s strong zones. They were the only place we worked now. On the outside we stayed low, undercover, human…well, I was human, so that was cool. But Ethan…if the Coalition discovered who he was or what he could do, he’d be dead…just like all the others.

  “Don’t think about it,” Ethan said.

  “My head is a no-go zone.”

  His lips quirked. “I don’t need to go into your head to know what you’re thinking. Your face is like a map to your emotions. You were either thinking about the day the world went to hell, all the people that have been killed, or-”

  “The people that have been killed…” I didn’t want him to mention the final thing, the thing I didn’t like to think about.

  “Well…don’t. Your sorrow won’t bring them back. It’s wasted.”

  I knew he was right, but it was easier said then done. “You think we’ll ever be able to make contact with England?”

  Ethan shrugged. “We’ll just have to keep our ears to the ground. If we’re lucky, the Coalition will dissolve and the ban on international communication will be lifted.”

  Bleedin’ Coalition. A coalition of imbeciles with the sole purpose of isolating the Pockets and eliminating anyone who showed any magical ability. At first it had been a gentle push, a nudge. All individuals with any magical abilities were encouraged into the Pockets, where, as the Coalition stated, they would be more at home. Early days, when no one had been sure what had actually happened, and then news had drifted from overseas: England had been pinpointed as the epicentre of the disruption that had brought magic back into the world and the magical community had been blamed for it all. Fear had set in, just like back when the existence of the supernatural community had become exposed over a decade ago. It was then that the Coalition had been formed, and back then the supernaturals had a seat within the organisation.

  Not any longer.

  Once the news about England got out, the supernaturals became the target.

  We continue
d in silence, just as well because my throat was already aching from the dry dusty heat, and then civilization came into view - if you could call it that. It was a landscape of giant, rolling, dust bunnies and shimmering air. A wooden sign was hammered into the cracked earth, now lopsided and reaching for the ground as if desperate for a lie-down. I squinted to read it, so faded and dirty.

  “Clover Town,” Ethan said.

  I stared at the four leaf clover painted onto the sign, grimy and barely visible. Great, maybe we’d get lucky.

  I’d seen the odd Western as a child. I’d watched plenty of movies growing up, most of them set in America, quite a few set in dry dusty places like Nevada, Las Vegas and, you know, other dry dusty places. I honestly felt like I’d walked into one of those movies, the fantasy sci-fi version of one anyway, because the sky here was a crystalline purple with streaks of yellow running through it—a sure sign that we were in the epicentre of this Pocket. The air was thicker, heavier, and I had to employ extra oomph to my step; it was as if gravity, too, had been given a boost.

  Ethan, however, was practically bounding along. I struggled to keep up and just about managed. We crossed the border into a deserted town, lying under a blanket of silence. The place should have been called No Man’s Land, or Silenceville, or Deadtown, yeah, something along those lines.

  I could see buildings up ahead, low, long and ramshackle, throwing barely any shade. My T-shirt was stuck to my back with perspiration and my scalp pricked with trickling beads of sweat.

  Ethan strode toward the buildings, and as we grew closer I realised we were headed toward a bar.

  Big Joe’s.

  I wondered if Big Joe’s served icy Coke. I wondered if they could give me a bucket of it.

  Ethan still hadn’t told me why we were here, what the case was, or what to expect. Aside from warning me not to freak out, I realised he really hadn’t given me any information at all. Usually, by now, he would have filled me in. Sometimes he left it until the last possible moment to give me the details, brief, to the point and probably abridged to stop me running off, tail between my legs. So far it had worked. With so little time to dwell, I just got on with it.

  “See that guy over there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s a vampire, you need to go seduce him and get him to follow you outside so I can dust him.”

  “Oh.”

  Yeah, I learned soon enough that when he said dust he didn’t mean to give him a thorough clean.

  “See that woman over there?”

  “Yep”

  “She’s a banshee. You need to go over there looking upset, order a drink and get teary. Get her to ask you what’s the matter and tell her your boyfriend dumped you and drove off. Tell her you don’t have a ride. She’ll offer you one and, when you get outside, I can slice her.”

  “Oh.”

  Yeah, s banshee’s scream is silent and lethal. Ethan had sliced her throat just in time to stop my brain exploding.

  “See that couple over there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re Shtriga, working as a team. Unusual but not unheard of. They feed on the breath of life, nearly wiped out the child population of a whole village in Ireland a few years back. My colleague lost their trial and now they’ve resurfaced. You need to go over there, look frantic, say you can’t find your younger brother and sister, the twins. Say they were in the parking lot by the car a moment ago, ask them to help you look. They won’t be able to resist. Lure them to the dumpster behind the store and-”

  “You’ll be there to kill them. Yeah, I got it.”

  I did, I got it. I understood that I was the lure, the bait, the hook, and I honestly didn’t mind because I knew that someday soon he would really let me work, that he would trust me enough to fill me in properly, to let me help with the research of it all. One day we would be partners.

  I would be the Dean to his Sam, or the Sam to his Dean, or something like that.

  “Snap out of it, Daria.” Ethan’s hand was on my arm.

  I resurfaced and blinked at the grimy windows of the dead-looking bar.

  Here it comes, the speech and the play.

  “We’re gonna go in there and you’re not going to say a word, understand?”

  I blinked at him in surprise. “Seriously? That’s it?”

  “For now.” He pushed open the door and vanished into the shadowy interior, leaving me to follow.

  3

  SOMETHING STINKY THIS WAY COMES

  The interior of the bar was dark. Shutters down, no lights. The only illumination came from the cracks between the slats in the blinds, and the gaps in the grime covering the glass that made up the top half of the door.

  I let my eyes adjust to the gloom and made out wooden chairs, tables and a long bar at the back of the building, barely visible in the deepest shadows. The air was musty, stale and still, as if unused to being processed by lungs, but there was another smell, something acrid and pungent under it all. It made my throat itch and I battled the urge to cough.

  I wanted to ask what the hell we were doing in this creepy dump, but I bit the insides of my cheeks and waited. Another thing I’d learned about Ethan was he always had a reason for everything he did.

  I trusted him.

  We stood in the bar, breathing in the fetid air and not saying anything, and just when I was beginning to have tiny little doubts as to my mentor’s sanity, the shadows by the bar shifted.

  “Crap.” I slapped my hand over my mouth, my heart pounding.

  Ethan glared at me for a long beat, his gaze hot on my face and I ducked my head, wincing. My eyes went back to the shifting shadows and I made out a figure, hulking, lopsided and strange. And then it spoke and the hairs on my arms stood to attention.

  “You came…you heard our plea…you will help us.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Ethan answered regardless. “Yes, I’m here to help you.”

  “Come back at sunset, at sunset you will meet the others.”

  I wanted to ask why we couldn’t meet them now, why he was hiding in the shadows and what that strange shadowy lump on his shoulder was, but I kept my mouth shut.

  Ethan nodded. “We’ll take a look around town and meet you back here at sunset.”

  “No, not here, meet me in the square…confined spaces…not a great idea, not with so many of us.”

  Once again, desperate to ask, but my lips were sealed by one quick glance from Ethan.

  Ethan touched my elbow, jerked his head and moved toward the exit. I didn’t hesitate, suddenly eager to get out of the bar.

  We stood outside, taking huge gulps of fresh air. I hadn’t realised how bad it had smelled in there until I was back outside again.

  Ethan coughed and shook his head. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

  “Are we gonna be staying the night?”

  He shook his head again. “Not sure yet.”

  “Because I don’t really fancy staying…here.”

  “We can sleep in the car.”

  “Great.”

  I didn’t mean to sound whiney, but this town gave me the shudders. As we walked down the deserted streets I could swear that we were being watched, eyes probing us from hidden spaces. The sun was slanting down, lengthening the shadows, and it was those shadows that I was wary of. The heat was still unbearable and normally I would be all about the shade, but not today. Today I decided to sweat it out.

  Ethan strode ahead scanning the landscape, looking for whatever he was looking for. I decided it was about time that he filled me in.

  “So why are we here?”

  Ethan paused and looked down on me with glazed eyes, and then blinked as if surprised to see me. He did this sometimes, went off into ‘the zone’. I just wished he would take me with him.

  “Ethan? Focus. Why are we here?”

  “You look hot.”

  My heart soared at his words and then plummeted as I realised he was referring to my red-faced, sweaty state and not my ge
neral ‘smexyness.’

  “Go sit under that tree, cool off. I’ll be back in a few minutes and then I promise I’ll fill you in.”

  “What tree? Oh, yeah, that tree.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d almost missed it, tall and leafy and shady. Clean shade, not creepy shade. I took a step toward it.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a…” Gone. He was gone.

  I sighed and made my way over to the tree, stepping right up to it and laying my hand flat on the cool, smooth bark.

  I wondered what kind of tree it was. Definitely not one I’d seen before. I slid to the ground, my back against the trunk.

  “Thanks, old pal. I needed this,” I said and then chuckled. The heat must have really got to me if I was talking to trees.

  I wondered how much longer Ethan was going to be, what he was doing, if I’d get a shower anytime soon, and what we were going to eat later.

  My eyelids began to droop…

  “Pretty, kind, nice,”

  I felt a feather-light touch on the side of my face. It was soothing. I wanted to open my eyes, but my eyelids were too heavy.

  “Sleeping beauty, nice lady, kind lady, pretty lady…me like…”

  Okay, this was getting creepy. My heartbeat kicked into gear, I fought the drowsy feeling and snapped open my eyes. The world looked just like I’d left it, except now my heart was pounding and my gut was telling me to run. I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled away from the tree, out of the shade and into the reddening glare of the sun. This was why I needed Ethan to keep me in the loop. How the hell did I know if what had just happened was somehow linked to the reason for our visit?

  It wasn’t fair for him to keep me in the dark. Speaking of dark, the sun was sinking fast. Where the hell was Ethan? He’d promised to come back soon. By the looks of it, I’d been out for hours.

  I glanced about, chose a direction and set off to look for him.

  If I couldn’t find him I’d just make my way to the square.

  “Daria!”

  Ethan? “Ethan!”

  Where was he? His voice sounded so close.