by Catie Rhodes
“Hurry up,” came Oscar’s voice. “This is where you kill her. Then you can do it all again.”
The axe came out of the wall with a screech. Tim spun around in time to meet the screaming woman. He raised the axe over his head and swung downward. It buried almost to the hilt in her skull. The life drained from her eyes, and urine pattered the floor as her bladder let go. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor.
Dizziness made my head float. The scene horrified me, but I was too stunned do anything but stare. Hadn’t Oscar said they’d do it again?
Tim wrenched the axe out of the woman’s skull. Her body lay still for a second, but then she picked herself up. Her dress, which had been stained with every kind of blood and grime imaginable, was stain-free. She smoothed it down, not seeming to see the naked madman in front of her, and walked to the front door. She patted her hair and opened it, already smiling.
“It’s so good to see you this evening. Won’t you come in?” She held the door open as nobody entered.
“Kick him out,” I yelled from my place on the floor. She never even looked my way.
Tim left me and went to stand near the woman as though he’d just come in from the outdoors. She smiled at him, not even seeing that he was naked, bloody, and covered in bone runes.
Tim said, “Why, thank you, Sister Samuels.”
The black opal gave me a particularly sharp jolt. I jerked and took my gaze off Tim and Sister Samuels, trying to figure out what the black opal was showing me.
The wheel of life lay only a few feet away. I glanced back at Tim and Sister Samuels. Could I get it while Tim and Oscar were going through the first act of their murder spree? None of them were paying me any mind.
“Would you like a glass of lemonade?” Sister Samuels clasped her hands in front of her floor-length dress.
“That would be wonderful.” Tim actually smiled, showing off his bloody teeth again.
I reached for the wheel of life. My hand knocked against something cold and hard, jamming the fingers into the knuckles. I gasped and jerked back. The circle Oscar and Tim had made around the pentagram somehow kept me out. I tried again. The magic cramped in my hand. I drew back with a yelp.
“Be good, Peri Jean,” Oscar’s voice came from the runes. “Unless you want to fight for your life right now.”
“Please sit in the parlor while I get your lemonade.” Sister Samuels motioned Tim/Oscar into the parlor with me and hurried into another room, presumably to get the stupid lemonade.
Tim walked over to me, junk dangling, and reared back his foot to kick me. I gathered the mantle and shot fire magic into him. It rebounded and hit me, waking up my numb skin with the feeling of pins and needles. I yelped and rolled to my feet, backing away.
Tim walked toward me, but Oscar’s voice came out of him. “This is my place, dear, and your magic won’t work. I’ve taken life here. Miss Samuels, her maid, and her sweet baby daughter, and this memory belongs to me. You’re a guest.”
I backed away from the monster I’d been married to, not sure what to do next. Using my magic to scramble Tim’s brain might simply rebound it onto me. I might kill myself. The circle around the pentagram was as good as a steel wall, so it was lost to me for the moment. Maybe I should go back to my world and regroup.
I glanced at the door. Ten steps tops. Once I got outside, I’d likely be okay. Oscar had driven Tim mad. He was now useless unless being controlled by magic. He'd hinder Oscar more than help him outside this house. Which left Oscar trapped here. If he left, it would cost him whatever spell he was using to control Tim. Oscar would have no choice but to go back where he’d hidden his soul and wait for another chance. He wouldn’t want to do that.
But if I left, I’d be leaving without the wheel of life. Miss Ugly would come for me when it got dark, and I’d have no way to fight her. I had to do what I came to do.
Possibilities raced through my mind. None sounded like they would work. I counted the steps to the door again. Something new hit me.
I could get Tim to leave the house. Oscar had said my magic wouldn’t work in here. This was his memory, and he was in control. But he wouldn’t be in control outside the house. I could get the wheel of life and then figure out what to do about Tim and the runes. I turned my attention back to the horror movie playing out before me and began to plan my move.
While Sister Samuels prepared the lemonade, fresh-squeezed no doubt, Tim crept to the fireplace. Someone had left an axe lying on the brick hearth. Tim picked it up and went to stand next to the doorway Sister Samuels had gone through. He put his finger to his lips for me to be quiet.
I shook my head at him, walked to the front door, and opened it. Sister Samuels’s footsteps rang on the wood floors.
“Be right there,” she sang.
“No problem,” Oscar/Tim sang back.
I pulled the nine irons amulet from my pocket and crept toward Tim, using my fingers to find the cross. Just as Sister Samuels reached the doorway and her mouth opened to scream, Tim swung the axe. She ducked away, but the axe caught her cheek, laying it open. Blood gushed down the front of her dress. She spun on her heels and ran. Tim took the first step to chase her.
I slapped the nine irons amulet onto a bloody patch of exposed skin. Smoke rose from the contact, along with the smell of cooking skin. Tim, still holding the axe, let out a howl that was half him, half Oscar. I shoved him toward the open front door. It was like trying to move a piece of dead meat. Even skinny, he outweighed me by no telling how much. I pulled the cross away from his skin, leaving behind a raw, bloody spot, and stuck it to another exposed piece of skin. Tim spun, trying to get away from me. I gave him another hard shove. He tripped toward the front door.
Oscar must have caught wind of what was happening. “Don’t go out the door, fool,” he screamed.
But Tim had an exposed circle of skin on his ass cheek. I stuck the cross there. The sizzle and sudden pain goosed Tim out the door. An oscillating wall of reality appeared, and I shoved him through it.
The house changed. I had broken the cycle of Oscar’s memory of the havoc he wreaked in this place. Now the final result of his visit faced me.
The bodies of Sister Samuels, a baby, and a woman wearing a black and white dress lay on the floor, hacked to bits, sightless eyes staring at nothing. In seconds, the bodies disappeared. The pools of fresh blood where they’d lain dried and then faded in the blink of an eye. The walls of the house aged and buckled, the flowery wallpaper peeling off in great long strips. The windows broke out, and phantom balls and rocks hit the floor around my feet.
I jerked into action. Without Oscar here to hold together the illusion and replay the memory of the day he murdered Miss Samuels and everybody else in the house, the house's future was happening in fast forward. I doubted I had more than a few seconds before it burned or a wrecking ball came to make room for progress.
I raced for the pentagram drawn on the floor. It was now nothing more than a few faded chalk lines. Gingerly I reached forward, expecting Oscar’s circle to throw me back, but my hand went through where the circle had been. Tim taking the runes, and Oscar, out of the house must have broken it.
I grabbed the wheel of life, held on tight, and ran for the door. Just as I crossed the threshold, the first wisp of smoke rose in one corner. I dove for the billowing wall of reality.
“There she is,” Tanner yelled and ran toward me. Hannah followed close behind him, her face white with shock.
Beyond them, Tim swung the axe and screamed. The runes that had covered him lay on the asphalt at the spot where he’d crossed back to this side of the veil.
“Get the runes,” I yelled into Tanner’s face. He and Hannah knelt with me and gathered the pieces of bone. At first, evil emanated from them, but then it flattened out and left. Good. Oscar had used up all his power.
Bare feet slapped the pavement, coming toward us. I glanced up from shoving the last of the runes into my pockets just in time to see Tim bearing down on us, axe raised. Tan
ner stepped aside, and I dragged Hannah and myself out of the way. As Tim raced past, Tanner delivered a punch to the back of his neck. Without a sound, Tim fell on the asphalt with a meaty splat.
“I’m calling the police,” a woman standing in the open back door of the restaurant screamed.
Tanner, Hannah, and I ran for my truck. I tossed the keys to Tanner at the last moment, and we all piled in. Tanner burned rubber getting away from the scene.
Three blocks later, I remembered my witch pack. “We gotta go back. My witch pack.” I poked Hannah in the arm.
“Right here.” She patted it. “We put it in the truck after you’d been gone so long.”
Sirens started up nearby. Tanner, who’d been leaning over the wheel driving, stopped the truck at a red light. We watched them speed toward the restaurant where Tim must have still been.
Tanner turned to look at me. That mind-altering lust passed between us again. I turned away and began getting the runes out of my pockets, determined not to have them touching my skin.
15
Despite a brief text message from Finn saying the hospital was keeping Cecil another day and telling me not to bother coming, that’s where I told Tanner to take us. The hospital turned out to be nothing more fancy than the kind of country hospital I grew up with in Gaslight City. Tanner drove with maddening slowness around the parking lot, the midday sun blindingly bright through the windshield, only to finally back into a spot away from all the other vehicles.
I climbed out of the truck and into the scorching sun before Tanner even shut off the motor and then set off across the parking lot at a near run. The heat from the concrete at my feet turned my boots into a sauna and my feet into slippery little fish inside them. Ignoring the discomfort and Hannah’s calls to wait up, I picked up my pace.
I needed a break from Tanner. The tense silence set my nerves on edge, made the back of my neck ache. This lingering attraction between us had to end. Maybe I could quit shaving my armpits and switch to sleeveless shirts. That ought to do the trick. I snickered.
Better to laugh about it than sulk. The latter wouldn’t change where Tanner was with his grief right now. I sympathized, but I didn’t want this to become another Wade Hill situation, wanting a man I’d never have, regardless of the reason.
The glass door leading into the hospital slid open, and I ducked inside, checking my phone for Cecil’s room number. The hospital was so small that it really wasn’t much more than a clinic with the patient rooms down two wings on the first floor. The sliding door opened behind me. Tanner and Hannah were catching up. I sped down the hallway toward Cecil’s room without looking back.
I came first to a glass-walled waiting room. Dillon saw me and rushed out of the room, her youngest child, Zander, hanging on her hip. The poor kid’s big, brown eyes drooped, but as soon as he saw me, he sat up straight and held out his hands, clasping them and opening them for me to take him. I held out my arms, put on a happy face, and let him slide into them. Dillon moaned with relief and shook her arms.
Finn came out right behind his wife, his daughter Zora’s hand clasped in his. The little girl zeroed in on me and began trying to yank her hand out of her father’s.
He glanced down at her. “Stop it, Zora. You set off the fire alarm last time I let go of you.”
“I want Peri Jean to hold me like Zander.” Zora turned her eyes on me, big and mournful as though only I could make her happy.
Her father frowned at her and shook his head. Zora stuck out her lip. Finn ignored her pique and spoke to me. “I told y’all not to come.”
“I’m not going to stay away with Papaw in here. How is he?” I took shallow breaths, not wanting the hospital smell to soak into my sinuses. Bad stuff always happened in hospitals.
Zora used her free hand to pull at my jeans. “Pick me up. Now.”
Finn shook his head at her but spoke to me. “Papaw seems fine. Don’t know why the doctors are making him stay.”
Zora began to tap my leg. “Pick me up. Now. I want to tell you a secret.”
Zora’s secrets scared the hell out of me. I pretended not to hear. Finn shushed her.
“I guess I’ll go on in and see Papaw.” I pushed Zander back at Dillon. He gave a warning wail, only half the volume of a real one, and grabbed a fistful of my hair. I hissed at the pain.
Dillon reached for Zander. He pulled my hair harder and wailed louder. Zora yanked on my jeans, hard enough to pull them down, chanting for me to pick her up. I grabbed the belt loop with my free hand. Between her and Zander making angry baby sounds, it was like being under siege by an army of Lilliputians.
About that time, Tanner and Hannah came rushing down the hallway. Hannah gave me a red-faced glare and wiped the sweat off her upper lip. Finn stuck out his hand for Tanner to shake. The two men gave each other those mysterious male nods. Zora forgot about me and zeroed in on Tanner.
“You’re the new guy. My mommy said I have to be nice to you.” Being a kid, Zora yelled the words.
Tanner squatted down and solemnly held out his hand. “I’m Tanner Letts from California. What’s your name?”
Zora, who’d recently learned about handshaking, gave Tanner an overly enthusiastic handshake and shouted, “I’m Zora Kaye Gregg.”
Dillon giggled and glanced at her husband. They exchanged a smile, the glue of their bond showing. Despite their grifter lifestyle, they’d found something lots of people, including me, never did. True love. A little twinge formed in my chest.
Finn spoke to Zander. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Zander tightened his grip on my hair and shook his head.
“I want to go for a walk, and I want him to go.” Zora quit yanking on my pants and grabbed Tanner’s hand.
Seeing this, Zander held out his chubby little hands to Tanner. Tanner raised his eyebrows at Dillon. She nodded with a look on her face that said, Anything to move this forward.
I handed the kid over to Tanner, surprised at how Zora had just influenced him out of both his stubbornness and his natural mistrust of strangers. Tanner, Dillon, and Finn walked off with the kids. Zora’s voice floated back to us, announcing her desire for ice cream.
Hannah leaned into my face. “What’d you run off for?”
I shrugged.
She glanced in the direction Tanner had taken Zander. “Oh good grief. The two of you need to get over yourselves.” With that, she marched into the waiting room and sat down next to Jadine.
My jaw dropped at who was sitting next to Jadine. None other than Brad Whitebyrd. Could he possibly have worse timing? He ought to be in Canada helping Mysti and Griff. I grabbed the doorknob, ready to go in there and tell him off, but then let go. Maybe I’d mind my own business for once instead.
I marched down the hall, searching for Cecil’s room number. I found the room and stood outside, staring at the slip of paper on the door that had his name and age scribbled on it. Eighty-one. Close to fifty years older than I was. How much trauma could a body that old take? Sooner or later, he’ll be gone just like Memaw. I swallowed panic and lightly tapped on the door.
Shelly opened it, looking fresh in a brown sleeveless blouse and yellow slacks. Boy, I hoped my upper arms looked like that when I was her age. She smiled. “Come on. He’ll be thrilled you came.”
I crept into the room, memories of Memaw’s final months spinning poisonous webs in my head. Cecil lay on the bed staring at the TV, playing with the sound off. Without looking at me, he said, “It isn’t over, is it?”
I sat down next to the bed. “Nope. It ain’t. But I got the wheel and the runes back.” I launched into the explanation for how Oscar had tricked me and continued siphoning off my power to use for his next attack. I took the wheel of life out of my bag, where I’d returned it to its leather case. “Worst part? We think this would help me get rid of Miss Ugly, but I don’t think I have the power.”
“That damn power-blocking spell again?” Cecil’s voice, thin and weak, rose.
“Stay
calm, Papaw,” Shelly said. “Unless you want the nurses to come back.” She pointed at his heart monitor. For the first time, I noticed it was beeping slowly, had been since I walked in the room.
“I am calm.” Cecil frowned and stuck out his lower lip. Then, to me, he said, “I’ve not seen the first sign of the man who could help you remove the spell. But believe me, I am asking around, putting out feelers.”
“It’s okay.” I told him Hannah’s idea about simply letting go of my bad memories, stripping them of their importance. “But I don’t know if I can. Who I am is all wrapped up in that stuff. It’s how I learned to be me.”
Cecil nodded at what I said, deep thought darkening his expression. “Hannah might be onto something, but I think it’ll take more than just letting them go. Keep rolling it over. You’ll come up with a plan.”
But before tonight? I didn’t say that to Cecil, of course. No need to stress him over something he couldn’t help with. I decided to change the subject. “Have the doctors talked to you yet?”
Cecil made a face and talked through his nose with no Texas accent. “‘Well, Mr. Gregory’—that’s who I am today—‘it would help if you didn’t smoke as much as you do. Every time you light a cigarette is fifteen minutes off your life, and you’re running out of fifteen-minute increments.’” Cecil’s dark eyes burned. “I was smoking cigarettes and serving this country before that kid was even thought of.”
“But you do need to quit smoking,” Shelly said. Then to me, she said, “The doctor told Papaw that if he didn’t quit smoking, he might have a year left. They’re doing a heart catheterization today to see how bad the blockage is.”
Cecil and I stared at each other. He held out his age-spotted hand, and I took it. He smiled at me. “Long life for a Gregg, ain’t it?”
I gave him a squeeze but didn’t answer.
“You know the worst part of all this?” Cecil changed the subject smoothly.
I shook my head.
“When people think you’re on your death bed, they want to get all the loose ends tied up.” He pointed at his water. Shelly got up none too happily, put the straw to his lips, and let him drink. He cleared his throat. “Jadine brought that boy she’s seeing to ask me if they could be married. You go to all the trouble to raise a child, to teach them your ways, and then they come to you holding hands with an ass-clown they want to marry.” The blips on Cecil’s heart monitor sped up. Shelly cleared her throat. Cecil shot her the finger. She sent it right back.