by Martha Carr
“That’s a kind thing to say, Nickie,” Ronnie said. “But we all know you’d be movin’ on up with or without us.”
Nickie shrugged. “I learned everything I know from watching you guys. And playing with you guys. I thought you’d wanna take a little bit of the glory.”
Ronnie grinned and winked at her. “Puttin’ that charm on pretty thick, aren’t ya?”
“Just for you, man.” Nickie took another stinging sip of straight bourbon.
“How ‘bout the real charm, though?” Ken set his drink down on the side table, braced his hands against his thighs, and pushed himself up out of the chair. “Before anyone says anything, I’ll go get my damn keyboard.” The other men chuckled.
“How ‘bout it, Nickie?” Her dad gazed at her with his head tilted, his eyes shining more than usual, accentuated by how much he’d had to drink.
“Not a real jam session without me, huh?”
Ronnie hooted and stood to grab his sax from the table, shaking his head. “Guess not.”
They both pulled their instruments from their cases, and Nickie slipped her favorite lime-green pick out from between the Gibson’s strings on the fretboard. By the time she’d finished a casual tuning, Ken came huffing back with his full-sized keyboard in tow and the cables slung over his shoulder. He thunked it down onto the table and plugged his set into the outlet on the porch.
Margot stuck her head out of the patio door he hadn’t closed and raised an eyebrow at them. “And y’all just thought he wouldn’t need any help with that thing?”
“He never does, baby.”
“Probably ‘cause he’d never ask.” Margot shook her head. “Just shut the door behind you, huh? Bunch of grown men acting like animals around here.” Chuckling, she slipped back inside, closing the sliding door behind her.
“All right. I’m good.” Ken waved a hand at them and turned on the keyboard.
“Just take it, Nickie,” Ronnie said, nodding.
She struck up something in D minor. After a few beats, Ken joined in with the keyboard. Ronnie’s head swiveled as he bobbed in the chair, and the minute he started playing, Bobby reached into the front pocket of his plaid button-down shirt. Nickie caught a brief flash of something in the light before the main wailed away on a harmonica.
She laughed. “That’s so awesome.”
Greg sat back in the rocking chair and closed his eyes.
“You wanna go after this?” she asked him, her energy somewhere between wanting to stand and being perfectly happy sitting.
“You play as long as you want, kiddo. I’m good.” He lifted his bourbon for another drink.
Nickie smiled and played, but the smile faded a little when she remembered why she’d come out in the first place. I just hope he’s not too drunk to help me out after this.
22
Emily’s transport bubble popped, and she found herself in complete darkness. “Good thing I’ve been here before.” Before the spell even reached her lips, a muted copper light flashed on her ring, and a glowing orb appeared in her palm. “These rings are so cool.” She lifted the light, where it grew enough for her to see the giant expanse of the chamber they’d barely escaped earlier that afternoon.
“Holy cow…” She looked around. The energy core she’d destroyed with her sisters lay a few yards in front of her at an angle. The glass-like material of the huge column had fractured in the middle, most likely when it toppled against the far wall of the chamber. Clear, shattered fragments were strewn all over, reflecting her orb of light from thousands of glittering pieces. And Laura’s teal bowling ball remained wedged into the top half of the energy core. The metal base of the column had partly ripped from its moorings, and everything was silent.
“Okay. So where is it?” Emily turned in a slow circle, knowing she didn’t have to look on the other side of the fallen structure. With a gentle wave of her hand, her floating light descended and came closer. There, on the floor under where the core had crashed against the wall, lay the two-foot iron socket wrench the Velikan Engineer gave Laura.
“Found you…” Emily grinned. “Not lettin’ you get away. We need whatever kinda magic you have. We need something that packs a punch—”
A shadow flickered in the corner of her vision, though her light hovered still above her. A loud, angry hiss filled the chamber. “No!” That one growling, enraged word became many as it echoed between the walls of stone and iron. “What is this?” The shadow moved, growing shorter as a woman with matted brown hair and a ripped and stained dress stepped through the arch made by the fallen energy core.
Emily froze. That is definitely not a witch…
The woman sniffed the air, then jerked her head toward Emily and locked gazes with her. “You,” the woman spat, her eyes flashing bright silver.
“Crap.” The minute Emily glanced down at the Velikan socket wrench just a few yards away, the Gorafrex’s ancient, frenzied drumbeat burst through the chamber, yet only for a few seconds.
Why’d it stop? Emily’s breath hitched in her throat. She eyed the Gorafrex inside its current host. The woman’s face contorted in rage and confusion as she stepped toward the Gorafrex’s intended victim.
“Uh-uh.” Emily stretched her hand out toward the socket wrench. With a flash from her ring, the heavy iron rod shot through the air and into her hands. She caught it, but the force knocked the Velikan tool into her chest with a thud. “Ow.”
The Gorafrex hissed through human teeth. The woman picked up the pace toward Emily, and the drumbeat resumed.
The young witch whirled away from the chamber and the broken energy core. She took off down the passageway. This thing is too freakin’ heavy. Her breathing echoed around her, while the orb of light darted on her heels.
The drums stopped. And an unnerving silence followed. Emily couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder. The Gorafrex stood in the entryway to the chamber, its human host’s arms outstretched. For a second, the woman’s body shimmered with opalescent light, which spread around her in an aura.
“I’m not finished,” the woman roared. The shimmering light around her shrank into her body, and the drumming renewed with full force. “You’re mine.”
Emily hefted the socket wrench into the crook of her arm and snatched her keyring from her back pocket. “Nope.” She glared at the Gorafrex storming toward her, even while the frantic, primal drumbeat shook the passage walls. Her thumb slipped into place on the silver coin, and she disappeared.
The socket wrench toppled out of her arm as she stumbled backward inside the Clubhouse. “Oh, my god. What the—crap. Crap. Crap!” Emily spun in a tight circle and grasped her head with both hands, trying to still her heavy breathing. “Definitely the Gorafrex. Inside another host.”
She dragged her hands down her cheeks and groaned. “As far as I know, that’s three humans it’s worn around town.” Fighting back a shiver of disgust, she stooped to pick up the huge socket wrench and took it with her to the cherry-red futon. “That was close. That was way too close. Come on, Emily. Why don’t you think first? That thing had no idea we already destroyed the energy core. Of course it would show up eventually to get things ready for the next…” She groaned. “The next witch. It’s gonna go after one soon. Like, really soon.”
She slumped against the futon and closed her eyes. “I made it out. Okay, Clubhouse, I’m officially more grateful for you now than any other point in my life.”
Sliding the socket wrench off her lap until it landed on the cushion, Emily opened her eyes and sat up. “We found the murdered witch and the last human host on…Tuesday. Five days ago. But now it’s…what? Being pushed out of that woman’s body?” She chewed on her lower lip and frowned. “Same thing happened when we found it in that man with the ponytail. The shimmering thing right before it left him and went into the woman in the parking lot. So, it’s keeping its hosts longer and longer each time, but it still can’t stay…”
She gave the socket wrench a dubious glance. “If it’
s trying to stay inside that woman, we might have more time. Unless it slithers into someone else. I have to tell Laura and Nickie.”
Emily pushed up off the couch and paced across the room. She fingered the coin on her keyring. “We need to—” The keys jingled in her hand when she shook them. “I need to calm down. Wait a little bit. That thing could still be there, but it won’t stay all night if it’s too weak to keep its host much longer. Okay…” With a deep breath, she sighed and nodded. “I can hang out for a while. Then I’ll pull up another transport bubble home. Easy.”
Emily paced across the Clubhouse floor another ten minutes. It felt more like ten days.
“This isn’t easy at all. What am I doing?” She lifted her keyring and glanced at the copper ring on her thumb. “I know I can time it perfectly.”
She slipped her thumb over the coin and left the one place that kept witches safe from the ancient, powerful creature.
23
After an hour of a few long songs, a bit of singing, and some incredible solos by all four of them, the humidity had got to her. Nickie’s dark-red tank top clung to her skin as much as the hair around her face and at the back of her neck. Thanks to the bourbon—and she’d only drunk half of what her dad poured her—all of that was easy to ignore. For a while.
Ronnie lowered his saxophone by the strap around his head, blew out a long breath, and shook his head. “Used to be I could stay up ‘til sunrise doin’ this.”
“Really?” Ken stepped sideways down the table to lean over it on his hands beside the keyboard. “You were sittin’ the whole damn time, man.”
“And maybe it’s the sittin’ that got to me.” Ronnie chuckled and pushed himself up out of the chair. “Knees aren’t what they used to be. Greg, you and I used to jump around stage like a couple of skinny punks. Remember?”
Nickie’s dad waved a dismissive hand and grunted, his eyes still closed. “I remember everything.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.” Ken chuckled. “Especially now. And I just remembered I need to eat.”
“Oh, yeah.” Ronnie turned to put his saxophone back in the case, then brought it over to the table. “Margot put out a huge tray of barbeque. I hear it callin’ my name.”
Ken clicked his tongue. “Man, and you didn’t think to tell us about barbeque before we came out here?”
“You walked right through the kitchen. I ain’t your momma, Kennie boy. You can feed your own damn self.” Laughing, they both turned toward the sliding glass door. “Anyone else need to fill their belly?”
“Yup.” Bobby’s harmonica slipped into the front pocket of his shirt, and he stood from the glider in one fluid movement.
Nickie looked at him with a grin. That is the tallest person I’ve ever seen. When he passed her, she saw the glint of Bobby’s eyes beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat. He tipped the brim at her and winked without stopping his slow, lanky stride.
“Nickie? Greg? Y’all want somethin’?”
“No, thanks.” Nickie turned in the armchair and nodded at them. “I ate right before I came over. Dad?”
“I’m good, babycakes,” he said to her.
Ronnie slid open the door. “I’m tellin’ ya, Margot’s brisket can make a man do unspeakable things. You don’t know what you’re missin’.”
“And we don’t know if we missed it,” Ken added as they stepped inside. “Invite a man over to your house and not tell him your wife made—” The door slid shut behind them.
Nickie chuckled. “They’re like an old married couple, those two.”
Her dad snorted and tossed his hand. “They were at each other like that twenty years ago. Just keeps getting’ worse the older they get.” His eyes opened slowly, and he blinked. “If that’s what bein’ an old married couple is like, I’m glad I won’t be spending the last of my days bickering with anyone.”
Because he and Mom spent the last days of their marriage doing it instead. I can’t believe he’s bringing that up right now. “Dad…”
“Sorry, kiddo.” Greg turned his head to fix her with shining eyes just a little red-rimmed from all the bourbon in his veins. “I shouldn’t be sayin’ stuff like that in front of you.”
“Thank you.” Nickie sat back in her chair again, picked at a few chords on her Gibson, and stopped. “Dad, I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
Okay, here we go. Let’s hope he’s not too drunk to give me a coherent answer. “When you were wearing this ring…” They both glanced at the black legacy ring on her thumb, which he’d worn most his life until almost two weeks ago, when the Hadstrom family legacy and the responsibilities that came with it were passed to his three daughters. “Did it do anything weird with your music?”
Greg laughed and sailed back and forth in the rocking chair. “I told you girls these rings would make your magic stronger, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Good. Yeah, Nickie, I had a few strange experiences with it when I was first figuring out how to be a wizard and a Hadstrom and an up-and-coming musician all at the same time.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.” His eyes drooped closed as he rocked, and he cleared his throat. “I remember playin’ a show one night. I must’ve been…oh, twenty-four. Twenty-five, maybe. Right after I met your mom and we were still figuring each other out.”
Please don’t give any details on that. Not now.
Greg chuckled. “I had the worst head cold of my life at that point. All stuffed up. Head swimmin’. Could barely open my eyes, I was so dizzy.”
“And you still did the show.”
“Of course I still did the show. That’s what we do, kiddo. The show must go on…” He laughed and shook his head. “I really hate that sayin’.”
“Gotta love clichés, though, right?” Nickie grinned.
“No you don’t.” Greg smirked. “But it fits. Now…weird things with the ring and my music? Oh, yeah. I was sicker’n a dog that night. Thought I’d fall over the minute we walked on. Even before the lights felt like they were burnin’ me to Kingdom Come. Then I started playin’, ‘cause that’s what we do.” He paused, still rocking back and forth.
“Dad?”
He took a sharp breath. “Yeah.”
“Keep going.”
“Oh. Right, right. Yeah…” He paused a few seconds, then exhaled. “I didn’t think I could do it, Nickie. But then, when I played, I felt it.”
“Felt what?”
“The magic. Oh, it was always there, sure. Can’t help that I’m a wizard. Can’t help it you’re a witch. That magic’s in our blood. But that ring grew warm on my finger, and once I started playin’, I couldn’t stop.”
That sounds like what happened to me at Tina’s laundromat. “You think the ring was doing that?”
“I know the ring was doing that. Those things…well, like I said, they make our magic stronger. Channel it. Bend it to a more specific purpose. That’s what they were made for in the very, very beginning. Damn, it’s crazy to think how long ago that was.” Greg sucked in a short breath, tucked his chin, and let out a soft burp. Then he laughed and put a fist to his chest. “‘Scuse me. Anyway, when that ring tapped into my magic and…magnified it, it completely took over, you understand? I played the hell outta that show, and the whole time, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to stop and lie down for just a few minutes. Didn’t matter. The magic wouldn’t let me. I thought I was gonna drop dead backstage at the end of it. Then Ronnie…” Greg laughed and shook his head. “Ronnie told me that was the best he’d ever seen me play. Said I was on fire. I realized I had to figure out a way to stop the damn thing from overwhelming me like that again. Had to figure out how to control it, yeah?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” Nickie nodded. If I end up playing that lullaby to call the Gorafrex again, I can’t let what happened last time happen. I was useless.
“It already took you over, huh?” Her dad stopped rocking long enough to meet her ga
ze.
“Yeah. Just once.” Nickie shrugged. “I think I passed out and slept for…I’m not sure, actually. Felt like days.”
“Yep. That’s it.”
“So how did you learn to control it?”
Greg chuckled. “Trial and error, kiddo.”
Great. I don’t have time for trial and error.
“That’s it?”
“No. I can pass my learnin’ on to you, can’t I? Good thing you and I share the same kinda magic. Your grandpa was the furthest thing from a musician. Architect for the city. All that building and planning. I could never wrap my brain around half the math that man did in his head just like that.” Greg snapped his fingers. “If I’d been able to go to my daddy when I was figuring out this ring stuff…whew. Would’ve saved me a lotta trouble.”
“Not as much as it’ll save me.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Nickie. You’ll get there.”
“Dad.”
“Yeah, babe?”
Nickie forced herself not to get aggravated with him. “How’d you learn to control it?”
“I realized what my music really was.” He cleared his throat and kept rocking in the chair. “The whole time, I thought being a wizard just made me a better musician. That my magic fed my music, yeah? But it’s the other way around, Nickie. Music is a form of magic, you understand? Music fuels the other parts of us. We wouldn’t be who we are without it. Sure, there are even some humans who’ve gotten as close to wielding that kinda magic in its purest form. But we…we get to use it the way we want. When you think about it like that, kiddo, the whole game changes. Instead of the music moving you, you move the magic. Play your music like you’re casting a spell, not like you’re escaping something. Do that, and you’ll be unstoppable.”
“Oh…” For as drunk as he is, that makes perfect sense.
“Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thanks, Dad.”
“Anything for you, kiddo. I’m glad you asked.” Greg dropped his arm over the side of the armrest and patted her knee. “You’re all the best parts of me wrapped up into one, you know that? You’ve never had my shortcomings, Nickie. That’s what’s gonna take you anywhere you wanna go in this world.” He squeezed her knee, and she covered it with her hand.
