Panic Broom

by Sara Bourgeois

  Meri sauntered around the small circle enhancing the protection provided by the salt while Remy chanted. It wasn’t in a language or words I could understand, but what I did pick up sounded like the same phrase over and over. It was like a mantra, and he was using it to send little tendrils of his energy out of his body.

  I watched with complete fascination as the small tentacles of his spirit snaked out toward the zombie woman. They were almost dancing as they moved in her direction. I did have to wonder if it would have been easier if we’d made the circle a little bit closer, but it was too late for that. It’s not like I could ask Remy to tuck it back in so we could move ten feet forward. I mean, I thought about it, but ultimately decided that might not go over well. So I quietly watched him work and waited for my time to do the binding spell.

  It hit me that I was seeing part of his soul, and that notion was almost overwhelming. Not just because it was something people almost never see, but also because it was beautiful.

  While it’s super cheesy, I’d likened the spirit tendrils to that sparkly vampire thing in one of my favorite, don’t judge me, teen romance movies. They shimmered in the light until they reached the woman formerly occupied by Bridgette.

  The zombie reached out and tried to grasp the spirit tendrils when they got close, but she couldn’t grasp them. Zombie Bridgette let out a frustrated-sounding growl as Remy’s energy reached into her.

  What happened next was disturbing and cool at the same time. Remy’s energy seized onto the dark, necromantic energy and yanked it out of Bridgette’s body in one smooth motion. It was as fast as ripping a Band-Aid off, and I could have sworn it made a similar noise.

  At that moment, both Zombie Bridget and Remy collapsed. I almost knelt down to check on him, but Meri interrupted my panic.

  “Brighton, do the binding. Do it now,” Meri said.

  “Right,” I said and looked up just in time to see the dark energy beginning to drift away.

  The binding spell was far simpler than one I’d have done on someone at home on a person. At home I would have needed parchment paper to write the person’s name or their photo. I’d have needed a black ribbon or piece of black silk to wrap the parchment or photo with, and dragon’s blood ink to write their name. I would have done my little chant about how I bound them from harming themselves and others.

  But I didn’t have all that. Nor was I binding a person. Or was I? The energy wasn’t specifically a person, but it was a person’s harmful magic. What I needed to do was bind Margery. That was the simplest method as far as I could see. Sure, she was dead, but I couldn’t see any reason why I still couldn’t do a binding spell on her. In my blind panic, it made complete sense.

  I didn’t have all the things I needed to do the spell the way I did at home, but those items and incantations were really just to focus your energy and intentions properly. The ribbon and parchment didn’t actually hold any magical power. The magical power was inside the witch.

  So I closed my eyes and imagined doing the steps at my kitchen counter. I envisioned wrapping a picture of Margery in black silk, but I said the words to bind her out loud.

  “Brighton, no!” Remy choked out. “That’s not what I meant.”

  And then everything went black.

  Chapter Four

  I woke up and the first thing I noticed was that I had a dull ache in my head, but it competed with the ache in my stomach. I was starving. I couldn’t recall ever having been so hungry in my life. I was also at home on my sofa. How I had wound up there when my last memory was of being in a vacant lot, I had no idea.

  When I tried to sit up, my vision swam a little. In addition to my headache and ravenous hunger, my body felt like lead. It was like when you take a nap in the afternoon, but you sleep too long. Everything felt a little precarious and off.

  “Take it slow,” Remy said.

  “What happened?” I asked and rubbed my eyes.

  My stomach growled loudly, and I entertained the idea that it had all just been a bad dream. Perhaps I’d caught the flu and had been dreaming while I was unconscious for a couple of days. Perhaps I was so hungry because I hadn’t had any solid food for a while. It was a comforting lie I tried to sell myself.

  But that might have meant the engagement was part of the dream too. I panicked and checked my finger. The ring was there. To my relief, that part was real, but that also meant the other parts might be real too.

  “It is real,” Remy said.

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “You looked at the ring,” he said with a big smile. “You were checking to make sure you hadn’t been dreaming. I know you.”

  “But, are the zombies real?” I asked. “Please say that part was a dream. Please.”

  “That part is real too,” he said. “So is the part where the failed binding put a crack in Amelda’s protection amulet. Hopefully, it will still keep you under the protection of the Skeenbauer Coven.”

  “The what am I doing on my sofa?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “It’s my fault. I wasn’t specific enough, I guess. I wanted you to bind the energy I released from the zombie Bridgette. Instead of just binding the energy, you tried to bind the caster.”

  “Yeah. I thought that was the easiest way. Margery cast the spell. It was her magic. That type of binding spell is the one I am the most familiar with.”

  “It was a good theory,” Remy offered.

  “But?”

  “But it’s almost impossible to break a dead witch’s spell. I don’t know why I haven’t told you that yet. I guess it just hadn’t come up. I mean, minor stuff will break or just go away eventually. But, Brighton, stuff like this where there was so much intention behind it. I don’t know how we’re going to undo it, and the fact that she was probably murdered during her casting doesn’t help. That trauma probably only made the black magic stronger.”

  “You mean that we don’t have a way to stop the zombies other than ripping and binding the energy out of each one individually?”

  “Yep,” Remy said. “We don’t have to do that personally, though. My family is going to do their best to take over that part in Coventry. Our focus has to be finding another solution.”

  “I can help you with that,” the apparition said as she appeared in front of the fire. “Why don’t you try solving my murder. Then I’ll release my spell.”

  “Margery?” Remy asked, but it was obvious. “Aunt Margery, is that you?”

  Though she was slightly transparent, and her feet floated an inch above the hearth, it was definitely Margery. She was dressed in the black ceremonial robe she died in, and her dark curly hair fell in a cascade over her shoulders and down her back. She looked decades younger than her actual age, but that wasn’t because she was her idealized version of herself or anything like that. I’d heard that happened when you died sometimes, but in Margery’s case it was something else.

  Her actual body looked like that too when we found her. She had a preternatural youth, when she was still alive, that probably should have been a tipoff that Margery had been dabbling in some not-so-clean forms of magic.

  “What are you staring at?” Margery demanded of me.

  “You just look really young. Considering you were in your, what? Sixties? Maybe early seventies? And yet, you looked like you were in your early forties. I just can’t believe none of the Skeenbauers noticed you were practicing black magic. There’s no good magic that could do that. Is there? It goes against nature.”

  “Maybe it was all the good deeds I did combined with a strict vegan diet and plenty of fresh air,” she sniped at me.

  “Was that it?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” she said and let out a shrill cackle. “I was feeding off the life energy of those who I saw as useless. It was a horrible thing to do, but it does keep the skin smooth and supple.”

  “And now you want us to help you?” Remy sounded as if he were barely restraining fury.

  “Yes, I do.
And you will. I heard you telling your little Tuttlesmith girlfriend about breaking a dead witch’s spell. So you know as well as I do that solving my murder will be far easier than trying to find a way to do it magically.”

  “How do we know you’ll break the spell after we find the killer? You could just be using us to find them and then you’ll leave the spell in place.”

  “I won’t,” Margery said. “You can consider it my contract.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Something else you don’t know,” Remy said. “She just bound herself to a witch’s contract. It means she has to do what she promised. If we find the killer, the spell will be broken by the contract and not by her. Margery can’t stop it now.”

  “Okay, then we’ll do it,” I said. “But it would be a lot easier if we know what you were casting when you were killed. That way we’ll know what is causing the zombies.”

  She laughed at me for a good minute. “You don’t need to know what the spell was. I’ll break it when you find the murderer. You’d better do it quick, though.” There was something menacing in her expression, but it was impish and gleeful as well. She had a secret that was greatly amusing her, and for some reason, my intuition was telling me that I was involved.

  “Aunt Margery, I can only assume it’s possible that someone killed you because of the spell you were doing. Knowing what it was will help us solve the mystery. It is important,” Remy said.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you. The things people said about me after my husband’s death were completely true. I never really got over my loss, so I was trying to bring him back. Whoever killed me did so during the exact part of the ceremony where the magic would have brought him back to life, and the energy went out into the world as I lay there dying. Without me to channel it to my purpose, it was free.”

  “But then why didn’t you come back?” I asked.

  “Silly little witch,” she said with a laugh. “I was wearing an amulet that protected me against necromancy. All necromancers wear one. It’s completely foolish to work with such powers without protection. I might not have been the smartest or the most accomplished Skeenbauer witch, but I wasn’t stupid.”

  “We could use that,” I said more to myself than anyone else.

  “No, you can’t,” Margery hissed. “Don’t you dare take it off my body. If you do, I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?” Remy interrupted. “Your word is under witch’s contract now. We solve the murder and your necromancy spell is undone. You can’t put conditions on it now.”

  She disappeared before saying anything else. I didn’t have any illusions that she would just stay out of our way, but at least for the time Margery was gone.

  “We should get that amulet,” I said.

  Remy nodded, and we headed outside to get the amulet off of Margery’s body. She was still in the trunk, and I was thankful we hadn’t taken her to the crypt yet. It did kind of suck that Remy had a dead body in his trunk, but I reasoned this was easier than grave robbing after we’d stuck her inside the mausoleum.

  I waited by the back of the car while Remy popped the trunk. Once it was open, he came around and reached in to get the necklace off Margery.

  “You should wear it,” he said and handed it to me.

  At first, I didn’t notice the way the metal chain made my fingers sting. What I did notice was when the actual amulet touched my chest. The pendant was a flat, circular black stone polished to a high shine so that it almost looked like a mirror. It was placed in a setting with two red stones, that I assumed were garnets at the top where the chain met the pendant.

  When it made contact with my skin, it burned so badly that I nearly screamed. Fortunately, I hadn’t fastened the clasp yet, and I was able to let it fall to the ground. I jumped back as if the thing were going to explode. It had sure felt like it was on fire.

  “Why did that happen?”

  My rapid breath caught in my throat, and I knew my eyes had to be as wide as saucers. The concern nearing panic was etched on Remy’s face, but there was a slight hint of something else. He knew it was possible that it could have happened.

  “What’s going on, Remy? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I was hoping it hadn’t settled in you,” he said. “When you tried to bind Margery, the dark magic I’d pulled from the zombie came for you. I tried to block it, and I did a cleansing spell on you when you were unconscious. I’d really hoped it hadn’t gotten you,” he said. “I don’t think anything I did helped.”

  “The magic you pulled out of Bridgette’s body is in me?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That’s why I can’t wear the amulet that’s supposed to protect me from necromancy? Because it’s already in me?”

  “Yeah,” he said and took my hand. “But we’ll solve the murder and the spell will be broken.”

  “But I’m a zombie?”

  “You’re still alive, baby,” he said. “It’s in you, but it hasn’t taken over…”

  “Yet? You’re about to say yet, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’ve called Brody and filled him in on what’s going on. He’s doing research in the archives and at the library to see what he can find. So far, we haven’t really seen any changes in you. We’re pretty confident you’ll be fine as long as we find the killer.”

  “You haven’t really seen any changes in me? Or you haven’t seen any changes?”

  “So far it’s just your hair,” he said.

  “What color is it this time?” I asked and felt relief wash over me. If it was just my hair changing color and not my skin falling off, I’d take it.

  “It’s not so much that it’s changing color, but that it’s losing its color. It’s fading.”

  “I’m hungry,” I said.

  Margery’s appearance had temporarily distracted me, but my stomach growled again. All I could think about was going to the diner and devouring a huge stack of pancakes, a whole plate of bacon, and a cheeseburger. And maybe some fries. Possibly a plate of nachos too. Ooh, and a milkshake. Maybe they could swirl chocolate and strawberry together.

  My stomach growled again, and it felt like my body was eating itself. I didn’t think I would make it to the diner. I needed to eat right away. If I didn’t get something delicious in my stomach soon, I feared I’d take a bite out of anything edible.

  “Brighton?” Remy asked cautiously.

  “I’m hungry,” I said again because it was all I could think about.

  I think he started to say something else, but I just ignored him and walked back to the house. Oh, that’s right. He said, “I’m just going to put this amulet on,” in a tone that sounded like he might have thought he needed it to protect himself against me. But I didn’t pay much mind. As long as I got some food soon, I knew everyone would be fine.

  “Please have something good,” I said to the refrigerator. “If you’re empty, I’m calling Goodwill to come get you.”

  I opened it up and moaned with anticipation when I saw the plate of leftover fried chicken. We hadn’t had fried chicken, but the house knew what I needed. There was a vat of potato salad, the kind without mustard, right next to it as well. It wasn’t what I’d been craving outside, but it seemed perfect at that moment.

  “You hungry?” I asked when Remy walked through the back door.

  “No, not particularly,” he said.

  “Okay, good. Is there any way you could cook some bacon for me and Meri while I eat some of this chicken?” I asked. “Pretty please?”

  “Sure,” he said with a concerned smile.

  “I’m just hungry,” I said.

  “I know, baby. I love you.”

  “Love you too,” I said and took the plate of chicken and container of potato salad to the table.

  “Aren’t you going to get a plate?” Remy asked as I fished a spoon out of the drawer.

  “Don’t need it,” I tried to say, but it came out as more of a grunt.

  I sat
at the table and devoured the entire plate of chicken and half of the potato salad while Remy cooked bacon. Meri showed up as soon as the house filled with the scent of the cooking bacon, but he didn’t say much. Instead, he just went over and stood close to Remy.

  “What is up with you guys?” I finally asked. “By the way, where is that amulet? You should wear it,” I said to Remy. “Since I can’t.”

  “I will,” he said. “But I put it back on Margery for now. I don’t want her coming back while she’s in my trunk. I’ll take it again before we shove her into the mausoleum.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said. “Probably should have thought of that before I took it off her. Sorry, I’m just so hungry. I must not have been thinking straight. Is that bacon about ready?”

  “You still want the bacon?” Remy asked. His eyes were wide with what I decided to assume was wonder and not horror. “You ate that whole plate of fried chicken.”

  “And half of the potato salad. I’ll probably finish it, but I’m in the mood for bacon.”

  “Me too,” Meri added.

  “Mine!” I said and let out a growl.

  Meri hissed and ran off into the living room. Remy began quickly putting the bacon on a plate for me, but he didn’t take his eyes off me.

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know where that came from.”

  “We need to lock her up,” Meri said from the other side of the kitchen doorway.

  He wouldn’t come into the room, but I couldn’t blame him. Something was seriously wrong with me, but it was impossible for me to focus. Despite all of the chicken and potato salad, I was still hungry. All that food had barely taken the edge off.

  “We’re not locking her up,” Remy said. “We can manage this for now. You’re her familiar, there’s got to be something you can do to protect her.”

  “I’m right here,” I said. “I can hear you.”

  “Here’s that bacon, honey,” Remy said and slid the plate in front of me.