Brewing Trouble

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Brewing Trouble Page 11

by Christine Gael


  I nodded slowly, feeling guilty for bringing yet another person into my mess, but knowing that it was the best course of action. “Thank you, Trudy.”

  She nodded curtly, increasing her pace even more. “Let’s keep moving, the Organization could be back any moment now.”

  Trudy’s soccer mom-style minivan was only a few minutes’ walk away, parked on the exact opposite side of the cemetery parking lot, and there was hardly another word spoken by the time we made it there, though I noticed that everyone was looking at me like I had two heads while we walked.

  “So,” Zoe said, breaking the silence as we buckled our seat belts, “I guess that means your powers are back.”

  I nodded, as elated as I could be, given the circumstances. “Seems like it. I’ve never done anything like that before, though. I had no idea I had access to so much magic.”

  I could hardly wait to get back to Maude. As I thought of her, a deep sense of rightness flowed through me. Our connection pulsed and stretched, fat and rich, gilded in a golden light.

  “Whether it was the chant, or the burial grounds reawakening my magic, Maude and I are good.”

  “Excellent,” Zoe said with a satisfied nod.

  “And how about you, Zoe?” I said, peering over my shoulder at my cousin. “That blast was amazing.”

  “It felt so good,” she said, her mouth splitting into a grin. “I can’t believe I pulled it off. It was no tornado, but still...”

  “Yeah, that was some display back there, Cricket. Do you think you could replicate it?” Trudy said, not taking her eyes off of the road as she turned onto the main road with a level of caution that seemed a bit over the top, given the situation.

  “I’m not sure,” I said slowly, considering it. “I couldn’t access the magic, at first, but they seemed like they were about to kill Patrick and the door just…opened.”

  “Maybe you should get almost killed more often,” Mee-maw said, an audible smack reverberating through the car as she slapped him on the back. “We could just storm in and blast the whole Organization to smithereens if things get bad enough for you.”

  Patrick let out a pained chuckle.

  “It’d go worse than you think if they were ready for us and had their own magic at their disposal,” I said, shivering as I thought about the terrible, incapacitating pain I’d felt on the night I’d lost my connection to Maude and almost died. “We don’t even know the full extent of their items.”

  “Eh, I guess you’re right,” Mee-maw said grudgingly.

  Patrick addressed Mee-maw. “I still think the best plan is to find your magical item before we face off again, if we can help it. They’re clearly afraid of battling three witches at once, and I think we should trust them on that.”

  I nodded to myself. “But we still don’t have any leads on that front.”

  “I wish that old lady just kept the damn thing in her shop,” Mee-maw grumbled. “If she had, I’d be witching away like you two by now.”

  “Tell me about the mausoleums,” Patrick said. “Any clues there?”

  “Mine was incredible,” Zoe began, “there was all kinds of beautiful art and decorations, with books and vials spread all over. At the very back, though, there was this altar with a flower on it and, behind it, there was a box with this strange compass in it.” She passed the compass forward, letting Mee-maw and Patrick examine it first.

  “I got one kind of like it,” Mee-maw said with a chuckle, “but it’s a lot fancier than this old lump of metal.” She pulled out hers and handed both to me.

  Zoe’s was jet black, like mine, but even more matte, and also much heavier. Mee-maw’s, on the other hand, was delicate and expensive-looking, with a gold exterior and a fine, thin needle inside. I began to pull my own out to show them, but stopped, blinking as I noticed that the two compasses on my lap were pointing in nearly opposite directions. “That’s weird…”

  “What is?” Trudy said excitedly, sparing a quick glance before looking back to the road.

  “They aren’t pointing the same way, like one of them is off or something,” I said, pulling my own out to see that it was pointing the same way as Zoe’s.

  “Let me see,” Mee-maw said, reaching forward.

  I handed her all three, turning around to see her reaction as she stared at them, her brow furrowed. I cringed as she flicked the side of it a few times, but nothing changed. “Damn thing must be busted,” she said. “A shame it wasn’t one of those dumpy ones that you two got. Those work good, I bet.”

  Patrick leaned over to peer down. “Actually, a broken or demagnetized compass would shimmy or spin if you flicked it like that,” Patrick said, pointing out the window. “Yours is just pointing a different way. And if Cricket and Zoe’s compasses are pointing toward the bakery...” He trailed off as Zoe piped in.

  “They must be pointing toward our magical items!”

  Despite my exhaustion, I nearly melted with relief at the thought. “That would be a huge break for us.”

  “That’s got to be it! What else would your ancestors want to lead you to so much that they would go through all of this? Mee-maw’s compass is pointing almost straight south, and I guarantee it will take us where we need to go,” Trudy said as we pulled up to a stop sign, her face lit up with excitement even as she looked cautiously both ways.

  A part of me wished we could follow it right now, but we were all at the end of our ropes. We needed rest.

  “Just drop us off in front of the alley behind the bakery,” Zoe said. “We’ll have to sneak in the same way we got out in case the cop is out there. Just take your next left.”

  Trudy dropped us off on the sidewalk near the back of the bakery several minutes later and we said our goodbyes, though she clearly wanted to stay with us.

  “Are you sure it makes sense to leave her to drive home alone?” Zoe asked, whispering as she led the way, though Trudy had already pulled away.

  “Her car wasn’t parked in the lot, so they didn’t see it, and she was in the mausoleum when they attacked,” I said. “If they’re looking for us, it won’t be in Trudy’s minivan.”

  Patrick nodded, trudging along at the back of the group with a slight limp. “Father isn’t the type to involve non-magics if he can help it. He’s not big on collateral damage. Raises too many questions.”

  I nodded, but something told me he might still not really grasp the scope of what his father would or wouldn’t do if pushed hard enough.

  We were all silent as we headed toward the small window on the building closest to us. It would lead us directly into the basement, where Patrick had unboarded the window Connie had snuck through, in order to let us out just an hour or two earlier.

  Zoe moved quickly, sliding it open with just the friction of her hands against the glass before hopping in, helping Mee-maw through the long drop once she was inside.

  My heart fluttered as I saw a faint light coming toward the alleyway, about twenty feet behind us.

  “The bakery is just ahead,” a familiar voice was saying. “If they’re not there, we’ll try the old lady’s house.”

  “Get in,” I spat, pushing Patrick forward, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “You first,” he demanded, shaking his head and turning toward the voices.

  I opened my mouth to argue but there’d be plenty of time to talk about the silly chivalrous display later, once we were both safe. I rushed forward, shimmying through the open window. Then, I dropped down, inside, gesturing frantically for Patrick to do the same. “Come on!” I hissed, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt.

  He grimaced, turning around and sliding his legs inside. He let out a pained groan as he slid through, it was a much tighter squeeze for him than it’d been for the rest of us. We yanked his legs, pulling him through the hole in one shot, making a satisfying sound as he popped through the hole.

  He dropped to the ground in a heap, grunting.

  I reached to the side quickly, grabbing the wooden board we’d taken of
f when we’d snuck out to go to the graveyard earlier, before looking up just in time to see the bright light sweeping down the backside of the strip mall and moving steadily toward us. I lifted the piece of wood in front of the window as quickly as possible and held it in place as I gasped for air.

  For long minutes, none of us moved or spoke. Soon enough, though, it became clear that we hadn’t been spotted. They would know soon enough, if they didn’t already, that we were hiding out in the bakery. But we were banking on the cop out front and the location on a relatively busy street to keep them from pushing a full-on confrontation here. Tonight wasn’t the night to test our theory. Not as beat as we all were.

  Not if the voice I heard belonged to the man I thought it did.

  I barely repressed a shudder as I pushed the memories away.

  “Talk about cutting it close,” Mee-maw murmured.

  I wanted to reply, but I couldn’t find the words. I just leaned forward and pressed my head against the wooden slab, trying not to burst into relieved tears.

  We’d made it through another harrowing experience, by the skin of our teeth. One more battle, down. But if we were going to win this war, we needed to get one step ahead of these guys.

  And we needed to do it fast.

  Chapter 13

  “That was him,” I muttered a short while later. “I’m almost sure of it.”

  We’d finally decided to risk the noise of hammering the board in again, and Zoe was busy at the task as the rest of us took a breath.

  “Who?” she asked, pausing to look back at me.

  “The man with the necklace.” The memory of being tortured came back in a flood, and I swallowed back a rush of bile.

  “It’s okay,” Patrick muttered, reaching out to give my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Even if they wind up realizing we’re here, he’s not going to risk breaking in tonight.”

  “You think we should go back out there and blast him?” Mee-maw asked, her already wrinkled face getting even more wrinkled as she frowned.

  “Definitely not,” I managed through my bone-dry throat. “He is fresh as a daisy and ready to fight. We’re all feeling like crap on the bottom of a shoe. I don’t even know if I have anything to blast him with. But his presence means they definitely called in reinforcements.”

  Once the board was back in place, the four of us trudged up the steps to the bakery and filed into the kitchen.

  "I don't know about you guys, but I haven’t showered since we left Greg’s. I’m going to set up a makeshift bathing area over there.” Zoe pointed to the industrial dishwasher and sprayer in the corner of the room. “Then, I’m going to crank the water up to scalding and work these tired muscles over a little.”

  Mee-maw’s face lit up. “Oooh, lemme get my purse! I’ve got some trial-sized shampoo bottles that I stole from that hotel last time I went to visit my cousin Doris in Saskatchewan.”

  “Mee-maw…cousin Doris died, like, ten years ago.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been keeping them in there since then because I knew they’d come in handy. And I was right!”

  “You sure were,” Zoe agreed. “Let’s get some clean clothes out of the Walmart bags for each of us, Mee-maw. I’ve got loads of dish towels to dry off with. Might take a few, but they’ll do in a pinch. I’ll get you all set up for your shower, first, and while you clean up, I’ll make a little nightcap. I've got some Kahlua in the kitchen that I usually save for my Mexican hot chocolate cupcakes that's got my name written all over it. A nice Kahlua and cream, followed by a hot shower before I hit the sleeping bag sounds like heaven."

  "If you're buying, make mine a double, hold the cream," Mee-maw grumbled, pressing a hand to her lower back with a wince.

  "You’ll have what I’m having, and a weak one at that. The doctor doesn’t want you drinking much.” Zoe scrubbed a hand over her weary face and shot me a glance. “Unless you think we should just take a nap and then head right back out tonight and find Mee-maw's item?"

  Everyone was spent, no doubt about it. We needed to regroup and recharge before we could continue, Mee-maw more than the rest of us.

  I shook my head. "Nope. Let’s stick to the plan. After what just happened, we need to lay low anyway. They know that we got something important from the cemetery and they know my magic is strong now. They're still patrolling, even now, looking for us. We'll wait until tomorrow, at least, before making another move."

  "Are you sure?" Mee-maw asked, her gazing locking with mine. "If we have to go, we go. I might be old, but I'm tough. I won't have you coddling me."

  "Nope,” I assured her. “It’s just too dangerous. I wouldn’t do it whether you were with us or not.”

  Patrick remained suspiciously silent and, despite his assurances on the way back to the bakery, I had to wonder if he was hurting more than he was letting on.

  "Let's get us the stuff for that shower and drink then, Zoe. I'm about to find my magical item, I want to celebrate," Mee-maw said, the excitement evident in her voice in spite of her exhaustion.

  “We’ll take a turn after you guys. I want to check on Maude,” I said.

  Patrick trailed after me into the back office, but I could hear Mee-maw chattering away as we went.

  "You think it might be a broom? Under normal circumstances, I'm not a fan of brooms, but I've always wanted to fly. Oh! Or what if it's a wand? That would be cool."

  Her voice faded as I closed the door behind us and turned to face Patrick.

  "You think she's okay?" I asked him softly.

  "I think that you were right to put off the hunt for her item until tomorrow, for sure," he said, propping his bottom against the table and leaning back. "But I don't think we should push it much beyond that. Remember, once she has the item, she'll be able to heal more quickly, and generally feel more energized. At her age, the sooner she connects with it, the better."

  I processed those words, realizing with a start that he was right. Even with my limited connection to Maude at that point, I still hadn't felt a twinge from my few-day-old knife wound all night. And, heck, before a few weeks ago, I'd have typically been sore from sitting on a chair too long, never mind sleeping on the floor of the library. While it hadn’t been comfortable in the least, I could honestly say that my back hadn't ached at all.

  "Agree," I said, gesturing to his torso. "Now, spill it. How bad is it?"

  “It’s fine.”

  Only then did I realize that there was a dark stain spreading on his navy-colored shirt.

  “Dang it, Patrick. Why are you trying to be macho right now? Same with making me go in through the window first. That’s got to stop,” I muttered as I charged toward him. “Once Mee-maw gets her item, you’ll literally be the only one among us without the ability to heal quickly. Zoe doesn’t have a handle on her potions-making yet, and if something happens to you--” I broke off as I lifted the hem of his shirt carefully away from the wound.

  “If something happens to me, what?” he asked, his voice husky.

  I swallowed hard and pulled away. “We will lose a valuable informant,” I finished lamely.

  I busied myself rifling through Zoe’s desk, in search of the first aid kit, but I could feel the weight of his stare.

  “Is that all I am to you, then?”

  Was that hurt in his voice? He had a lot of nerve, considering he’d almost gotten me killed.

  But deep inside, I knew that was just a defense mechanism kicking up. He’d proven himself time and time again since that fateful night. I think I was just terrified that, without a wedge between us, forcing us apart, we’d come crashing together, on a collision course that would lead me straight to Heartbreak City.

  “You’re a friend, as well,” I conceded, clearing my throat as I turned, first aid kit in hand. “Which is why you’re going to humor me and have a seat while I clean you up, yes?”

  His gaze grew hooded as he studied me for a long moment before unfolding his long, lean body into the closest of the two office chairs.


  “Fine. Have at it, Florence.”

  I opened the little, white box and rummaged through until I found some gauze pads and peroxide, along with a little pile of bandages.

  If I was being honest with myself, I’d have to admit that it was good to have a task to focus on. My brain kept trying to rewind the tape back to that voice…that necklace. The instrument of horror and agony I would give almost anything to forget.

  I shoved the thought back again and instructed Patrick to unbutton his shirt.

  The command sent his mouth kicking up into the crooked half-smile that had surely launched a thousand skirts.

  “Not even going to take me out to dinner first, eh?” he teased, even as he made quick work of the buttons.

  Any hopes of a witty retort died on my lips as the two sides of the shirt fell open to reveal his muscular chest and abs.

  Luckily, my daze only lasted a moment as my gaze zeroed in on his injury.

  “Just a scratch?” I asked, reaching for the gauze and peroxide. “That’s pretty deep, and there’s a scrape right beneath it.”

  “My struggle through the window sort of compounded the issue. Still, though, I think it looks worse than it is.”

  I sure hoped so, because as much as I appreciated him sewing me up a few days before, I wasn’t confident I could return the favor without passing out.

  After soaking one of the pads and bending my head closer, I gently began to wipe the blood away. Because I was standing and he was seated, all I had to do was lift my head a fraction and we’d be eye to eye.

  “Cricket?”

  “Hmm?” I murmured, refusing to look up.

  “Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we met at a different time? A different place.”

  My throat went tight and I continued to dab, even though I’d gotten most of the blood cleaned away. He’d been right. The cut was ugly and long, and the scrape made it look even worse, but it wasn’t very deep. Nothing a few butterfly bandages couldn’t handle. I was pretty sure, of the two of us, I was in a lot more discomfort than he was at the moment.

 

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