by Wendy Wang
"Yeah but a summoning spell …" Ben said.
"I know. I'm probably making excuses that I shouldn't be. But she's the only family I have left."
Ben sighed and scrubbed his rough beard. “I’m sorry to hear that. You know this isn't going to end well for her. If that thing she summoned doesn’t kill her, then if she’s as bad a witch as you say she is, I will legally have no other choice than to bind her magic.”
Arista’s hand drifted to her throat and her face paled. “For how long?”
“Forever. Till she dies anyway,” Ben said.
"And you want me to just give her over to you?" she said, sounding put out.
"This isn’t about what I want. Or what you want. There’s a demon on the loose in this town and it will continue to kill and wreak havoc until it’s either dead or back in hell,” he said. “I would appreciate a little help.”
“And what if I don’t help you?” She leveled her hard blue eyes on him.
His fingers twitched. It wouldn’t take much to make her do what he wanted. You’ll get more flies with honey, Jen’s sweet voice floated through his head. He sighed. If he couldn’t use force, then there was only one other thing to do.
“I walk away, leaving you with the knowledge that you could’ve saved your niece and helped stop that thing from killing another innocent. That blood won’t be on my hands. It’ll be on yours.”
He held her gaze for a few seconds more, then turned to leave.
“Wait,” she said. He turned. Her shoulders drooped a little. She sighed. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
And it was guilt for the win.
“First, show me the potion. Then I need to talk to her. Can you get me in touch with her?” he asked.
“I can try.”
Chapter 13
Charlie spotted her in the center of the fire ring. It was almost as if the ghost had been waiting for her.
"We found the body there," Jason began. He pointed to the space coming up in front of her. Charlie held up her hand to hush him. She walked through the scene, her eyes focused only on the spirit of the scantily clad, dirty young woman sitting in front of an ancient, blackened log. She had her knees hugged to her chest and her arms wrapped around the tops of her knees. Her reddish blonde hair was full of sticks and she bent her head, hiding her face. The braid she wore encircled her head and reminded Charlie of a Swedish milkmaid. Her body flickered in and out but there was no mistaking the sound of her crying. Deep and woeful, the sound carried on a heavy breeze that had picked up as Charlie approached her.
Charlie glanced at Jason and even Cameron to see if they had any reaction. Internally, she rolled her eyes at herself. Why would they? Lisa, on the other hand had stopped not far from the edge of the rocks forming the ring. Lisa’s body stiffened and she reached inside her pocket and pulled out a small linen bag. Her thin fingers wrapped around it and held it close to her heart. Inside were things that Charlie knew were protective — a bit of dried lavender, a black tourmaline stone, bleached bones from a chicken, a tiny bag of salt and whatever else Lisa deemed necessary. The look on her cousin's face said everything that Charlie needed to know. Lisa heard it, too. Even if she didn't see the spirit, she could sense her.
Jason watched with his mouth open and Cameron sneered. One of these days she was going to have to have a talk with him about his bad attitude. Especially if it affected her work. She shook off his negative energy as best she could and approached the spirit with care. Startling an unknown spirit could be dangerous.
"Hello," Charlie said softly. The darkness of this place weighed heavy on her. It was as if someone had filled two sacks with sand and stones, tied them together, and dropped them on her shoulders. There was something besides the spirit here. A dark shadow Charlie could not quite get a reading on. It slithered around her, just out of view. If she concentrated she could see it hovering in her peripheral vision, but as soon as she turned her head, the shadow disappeared.
The woman continued crying against her arms. Charlie took a few steps forward. "I won't hurt you."
Still, the spirit wept. Charlie inched forward. "What is your name?"
The woman's shoulders hitched up and down as if with painful breaths. It was just a habit though. Spirits didn't really need to breathe, but every single one Charlie had ever encountered carried with it the memory of being human. So they did human things, like breathing and crying.
Charlie knelt in front of the spirit. "My name is Charlie."
"He changed my name," the woman whimpered.
Charlie's heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She put a hand on the ground to steady herself. The loamy soil of sand and dirt and clay pressed against her palm and filled the space between her fingers. "Who changed your name?"
"He did." The ghost's voice whispered across Charlie's skin. "I couldn't stop him. I couldn't …"
"This isn't your fault. And he can't change your name. No one can do that. Unless you want them to," Charlie said.
"I thought it would be different," the ghost whispered.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"Death," the ghost whispered. "I thought there would be heaven. Or even hell. I never imagined I would still be here."
"There is more than just here," Charlie said. "I know it's hard to see right now because you feel like you’re stuck. But there is another place. Maybe it is heaven, maybe it is hell. I won't know until it's my turn. But I know you don't have to stay here. I can help you. I need to know some things first."
"I'm not going anywhere," the spirit said. "He made sure of that. And now I have no choice."
The spirit raised her face and Charlie lurched backward. A scream caught in her throat. Where the woman's eyes should have been, there were dark bloody caverns.
"See? I have become exactly what he made me. A hideous creature." The spirit jumped to her feet and a black smoky shadow expanded from her back and she disappeared. The sound of beating wings filled Charlie's head.
“Good goddess, what has he done?” she muttered.
"Charlie, are you okay?" Lisa said, kneeling next to her. She shoved the little bag in her hands into Charlie’s. "I should've made one of these for you and made you wear it."
Charlie rose from the sandy soil. She put the protection bag in her pocket and brushed her hands together to clean off any debris clinging to her palms.
Jason stood just out of reach.
"You didn't tell me that her eyes were missing," Charlie scolded.
"You could see that?" Jason asked, his voice filled with awe.
"Oh, yeah," Charlie said.
"You don't like to know too much. I’ve got a file in the car for you to go over if you want," he said weakly. "What did she say to you?"
"She said he changed her name. And for some reason, she says she can't move on because of him. Because of something he did to her," Charlie said, her stomach turning.
Cameron made a chuffing sound and Charlie stalked over to him.
"What the hell is your problem?" Charlie snapped.
"Nothing," Cameron said. "Your performance is very interesting. Almost believable."
"You know, I don't give a rats ass if you believe me or not," Charlie said. "But from here on out you need to keep your negativity to yourself."
"Or what?" Cameron challenged.
Charlie put her hands on her hips and locked her gaze on his. "You don't really want to mess with me, Cameron."
"Right," Cameron said raising his hands. "Because you’re this oh so scary psychic."
Charlie narrowed her eyes. "Do you really want to find out what I am?" She stared at him, her gaze unwavering, refusing to even blink. After a moment Jason approached and clapped Cameron on the shoulder.
"Come on you two, don't fight," Jason said.
Lisa took her place next to Charlie, standing close enough for her arm to brush against Charlie's.
"If I'm going to help you, Jason, then I think it would probably be best if it was just you and me from here on out
. Or even just me," Charlie said.
"Come on, Charlie, don't be like that," Jason said.
"Yeah, come on, Charlie don't be like that," Cameron echoed. "No one can see your theatrics if it's just you."
"Hey!" Lisa took a step forward. "You don't have to be insulting. Nobody's trying to make you believe anything."
"Come on Lisa, I know she’s your cousin, but seriously? I mean you’re smarter than that,” Cameron said.
“You don’t really know anything about me, Cameron,” Lisa said.
“I know enough. And I’m sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." Cameron said, sounding contrite.
"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," Lisa said, crossing her arms.
Cameron pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. His defiance reminded Charlie of Scott and the way he would hem and haw when he was wrong about something. Charlie sighed.
"I don't need an apology," Charlie said softly. "What I need is to be able to work in peace. And you, Cameron, do not give me any peace. So if you want my help, Jason, then those are my terms. Just either me and you, or me on my own."
Charlie turned and walked across the fire ring toward the path. Overhead she distinctly heard the sound of beating wings. But when she glanced up there was not a bird in the sky.
"You know what I don't understand about Cameron?" Charlie said, digging out two pints of Haagen-Dazs ice cream from her freezer. "Butter pecan or chocolate peanut butter?"
"I'll take the chocolate peanut butter unless you want it," Lisa said.
Charlie pulled two spoons from the drawer next to her stove and put the pint of chocolate peanut butter down in front of her cousin. "It's all yours. It's not really my favorite. It's Evan’s. I'll get some more before he comes back on Sunday."
Charlie sat down at the little bistro table across from her cousin and popped the top of the pint of butter pecan ice cream.
"You were saying?" Lisa said, taking a spoonful of ice cream.
"I don't understand why he has to be such a jerk about it. It's fine that he's not a believer. I don't really care." Charlie burrowed the tip of her spoon into the pint and lifted a bite of the rich buttery vanilla ice cream to her lips.
"It bothered you enough to chase him off. If you didn't really care, then you wouldn't have done that," Lisa said.
Charlie winced. Leave it to Lisa to sting her with the truth. She scowled and took another bite. "Fine. So I care a little bit,” she sighed. “It wouldn’t be so bad if his energy wasn’t so draining. I swear I don't know how he and Jason are friends."
“Jason was the same way when we first met him, remember?” Lisa said, prodding the hardened ribbon of peanut butter in the center of the frozen treat. “And he came around.”
“Yes, but not without some convincing.” Charlie laid her spoon on the placemat next to the cover of the ice cream.
“True.” Lisa met Charlie’s eyes. “Maybe that’s what it’s going to take.”
Charlie grimaced. “Yeah, I know. But that means I have to poke around in his head and maybe even call on the spirits haunting him.”
“Are there always spirits?”
“Not always.” Charlie chuckled and put the top back on the ice cream. “Hell, maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe he’s not haunted at all. Maybe he’s just a jackass.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try to read him.”
“Fine,” Charlie said, trying to shrug off her irritation. “Is Jason bringing him to Friday night dinner?”
“Yeah, that is if he even comes. They’ve been working late every night since Sunday,” Lisa said sulking.
“You’ve only noticed because you’re not working late, too.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “And your point is?”
“He’s crazy about you, Lisa. That's all. And I think you complaining that he works too much is the pot calling the kettle black." Charlie chuckled.
"Dammit, Charlie Payne," Lisa said as she scowled. “I hate it when you make sense."
"Not nearly as much as Cameron does," Charlie said and Lisa laughed out loud.
Chapter 14
Charlie tidied up her cottage, unable to get the image of the spirit she had seen that afternoon out of her head. It wasn't the first time she'd seen a spirit trapped by her own self-image at the moment of her death. What she couldn't figure out, though, was whether the spirit was actually wearing wings.
Jason had told her after they left the scene that the killer often left behind a pair of beautifully crafted wings made of metal and leather. She had smelled metal in her vision. Had felt the heat of the room where he kept her captive. Why would the spirit adopt something the killer had contrived for her? It didn't make any sense. There was only one person she knew who knew as much about spirits as she did. She ran the dust mop over her hardwood floors quickly and when she was done she picked up her phone and sank into her overstuffed couch.
She jotted off a text. How's your schedule?
Always open for you, he replied. Charlie grinned from ear to ear.
I had a very strange experience today.
Want to talk about it?
Would love to. Do you want to come over?"
Would love to. :-) Should I drive? Or would other means be all right with you?
Charlie glanced at the clock and thought about it for a moment. If he drove, her cousins would know that he had come over after eleven pm. At a minimum, there would be questions to answer. And at worse, there would be unending teasing.
Other means would be perfect. I'll see you soon.
Her stomach flip-flopped and she hopped to her feet to take a quick turn around the house, scanning for dust she’d missed and to empty the trash.
A knock came at the front door just as she gathered the plastic string of the trash bag and tied it in a knot.
Charlie rinsed her hands in the sink and caught sight of herself in the glass pane cabinet next to the sink. She finger combed her hair and pinched the apples of her cheeks. It would have to do. She called up a smile right before opening the door. Tom stood on her porch unaffected by the heavy darkness of the night.
"I'm so glad you texted me," he said. He swept into the room and Charlie could almost hear his invisible reaper robes ruffling even though he wore his sleek jeans and a polo shirt. She frowned and closed the door.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said forcing her lips to curve into a smile. "How are you tonight?"
"I am wonderful now that I get to see you." He stepped close. He brushed a strand of hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Is this okay?"
Charlie nodded and closed the gap between them. She put her hands on his hips and brushed her lips across his. "More than okay."
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeper. Charlie's belly exploded with butterflies and heat. He pulled away a little breathless. "We should stop."
She gazed into his dark amber eyes. "I don't want to stop. Do you?"
"God no," he said. "But you texted me because you wanted to talk about something. I came to listen. Not to seduce you. I promise."
Charlie laughed. A curious expression wrinkled Tom's brow.
"It's not really seduction if both parties are willing. And you're sweet. It's one of my favorite things about you," she said. She hugged him close, nestling against his neck breathing him in. He wore a musky cologne but beneath it was another smell. A very human smell. Charlie pulled away and looked him in the eye.
"You smell sweaty," she said grinning. "Is that part of your glamour?"
A wide smile stretched across his face. "Do you like it? Or is it too much? Daphne taught me how to do it. She is an absolute gem when it comes to glamours."
Charlie laughed. "Yes, she is. And no, it's not too much. I had no idea that a glamour could actually affect smell."
"Daphne says a good glamour should affect all five senses," Tom said.
"Well she would know. She's queen witch around here when it comes to that." Charlie snuggl
ed in close again and kissed his neck. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around her pulling her tighter against him. "And yes I do like it,” she purred. “It's kinda manly."
"So tell me about the strange encounter you had," he asked.
Charlie sighed and pulled away, leading him over to the couch. She described her experience as they settled on either end, and even closed her eyes to help her remember every detail.
When she was done she opened her eyes and met his gaze. "I don't understand. I've never seen a spirit with wings before. What does it mean?"
"You told me that in the vision you had he kept talking about making you an angel," Tom said.
"Yes. He did. But he couldn't really make an angel. Could he?"
Tom slicked his hair back and said, "No, of course not. He's not divine." Tom picked up her hand and placed it between both of his. "There are some legends, though."
"What kind of legends?"
"There are many different supernatural creatures who feed off of the energy of the human soul. Some have very specific rituals for preparing the souls for consumption. Perhaps he's being controlled by one. He could be like you. Sensitive. And it could be that this creature has preyed on him and is making him do its bidding."
"You mean like a spirit?"
"Not a spirit like you mean spirit. Not a human spirit. But it could be an evil spirit. Some cultures call them demons."
"Demons,” she said thoughtfully. "I thought they were just a myth. Something Christianity invented to act as a scapegoat for bad behavior."
"Demons exist in every culture on the planet, Charlie. I am a supernatural creature. Some might think me a demon. Or an angel. As we discussed earlier."
Charlie sat forward and put her head in her hands. She sighed. "Sometimes I feel like my head is going to explode with all this information."
"I'm sorry it isn’t what you want to hear." Tom rubbed a circle in the center of her back.
"How can I be sure? That he's not just some sick murderer. I mean Jason showed me the autopsy reports this afternoon. This guy rapes these girls postmortem," Charlie said.
