We met up with Teag and Anthony at Jocko’s, our favorite Italian restaurant. Everything on the menu is good, and it all comes from the owner’s family recipes. I gave Anthony a hug. “Haven’t seen you in forever. You work too hard.” It had only been a week or so, but it felt longer, especially since these past few days had been stressful.
“Thanks for keeping Teag from getting bored,” Anthony replied. Teag and Anthony make such a cute couple. They’re close to the same height, but otherwise such a contrast. Anthony’s blond and broad-shouldered, looking every inch the South of Broad scion that he is. Teag still rocks a skater boy haircut, and while Anthony is all Brooks Brothers, Teag’s more of a jeans, t-shirts, and Vans kind of guy. Somehow, they make it work.
“Hey Cassidy!”
I turned and saw two of my favorite people, Drea Andrews and Valerie Dane. Drea runs Andrews Carriages, and Valerie is one of her top tour guides. It’s rare for them to have a night out, given the type of business they’re in, and even more unusual for them to be out together.
“Birthday? Anniversary? Promotion? Apocalypse?” I guessed. “How’d you two slip the leash and get the night off?”
Drea laughed. “All of the above? We’re dreaming up new tours for next year, so I decided we deserved to have some fun doing it!”
“You go, girl! Can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
Drea gave me a knowing look. “I wasn’t maybe completely joking when I agreed on the apocalypse part,” she added. “And somehow, when strange things are going on, you usually have an inside track.”
“What kind of strange things?” I asked. Kell slipped an arm around my waist. We had time to kill waiting for our table to be cleared, and I wondered what Drea had heard. She’s usually very tuned in since her job means she’s talking to people all over the city all day long.
“For one thing, the way everyone’s suddenly crabby,” she replied. “This city doesn’t even get ruffled when we’re washing away in a hurricane, and now people seem unusually grouchy. And then, there are the ghosts.”
“We’re thinking of suspending the ghost tours until things settle down,” Valerie chimed in. “Too dangerous, after what happened at the Old Jail.”
“Yeah, we heard.” Kell and I answered almost in unison.
“Do you think it has anything to do with what’s going on out in Aiken?” Valerie asked.
Kell and I exchanged a glance. “What’s going on out there?” I asked. Aiken ranks right up with Lexington and Louisville for big money horse racing. Back in the 1800s, folks from the old money crowd from up north would winter in Aiken to get their prize horses ready for the Triple Crown.
“Prize thoroughbreds gone missing,” Drea confided. “Hunting dogs, too. And we’re talking expensive livestock. Those horses cost big bucks, and champion dogs aren’t cheap. Plus, all those big race farms have security. It’s not like horse thieving in the Wild West.”
“Any people vanish?” I asked.
“Not that I’ve heard,” Drea replied, and Valerie shook her head.
“Can you keep me posted on the Aiken thing?” I asked, as their server came to lead them to their table. “It might be important.”
Teag and Anthony came up behind us. “Something going on?” Teag asked quietly.
“Maybe,” I replied. “More weirdness.”
The server seated us then, and conversation came to a halt as we glanced through the menu. We ate at Jocko’s so often we should have had the choices memorized, but sometimes it was fun to try something new. I went for spicy seafood pasta, and Kell opted for the Chicken Marsala, while Teag and Anthony split a specialty pizza. Of course, we had to get stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta to share. Once we had our drinks in front of us, we all relaxed. Anthony slung an arm over Teag’s shoulders, and Teag leaned into him. Kell and I sat hip to hip, and if my hand strayed to his knee, no one was going to mention it.
“So what’s new in your world?” I asked Anthony. He can’t talk about the confidential details of any of his cases, of course, but his work often yielded scuttlebutt from law enforcement agencies and local police that we might not otherwise hear. The longer Teag and Anthony are together; the better Anthony has gotten at listening for the right kinds of things, the type of details that suggest strange goings-on might be our kind of problem.
Anthony sipped his wine and let out a deep breath, rolling his shoulders like he wanted to shuck off the weight of the day’s worries. “You mean, other than that the whole world’s gone crazy?”
I gathered from the way Teag turned to look at Anthony that this tidbit hadn’t been mentioned before. “Oh?” I prompted.
“Arrests are up for everything from bar fights to domestic violence.” Anthony toyed with his wine glass as if he were already thinking about a refill. “There’ve been more murders in the last two weeks than Charleston usually sees in a month. ‘Crimes of passion’—things that people do when their temper’s running high—are through the roof. It’s like everyone’s lost a grip on sanity.”
“Or something’s lowering their inhibitions,” I suggested. I had noticed some of the headlines, but failed to make the connection, in volume or in timing, to realize just how big the problem had become.
“Or feeding on the aggression,” Teag added.
“Or creating a distraction so we aren’t looking at the real problem,” Kell chimed in.
Anthony looked from one of us to the next as if he realized he was outnumbered. “You think there’s something supernatural behind an outbreak of widespread pissiness?”
“Not the strangest thing I’ve heard,” I replied. “There are creatures that feed off strong emotion—love, hate, violence, envy. That whole ‘seven deadly sins’ list keys into primal human urges, and that’s like the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls to some of those beings.”
Anthony mulled that over for a moment, and took another sip of wine. “Honestly, that would make more sense than people just going nuts,” he said. “We’ve had a few clients in our office have a complete personality shift, go from reasonable and pleasant to angry and awful. And as far as anyone knows, there isn’t a reason. No health problems, family issues, pending divorces, or financial trouble.”
Teag laced his fingers with Anthony’s and leaned forward. “The people who’ve been getting arrested—have the police found motives?”
Anthony shook his head. “Under normal circumstances, most motives aren’t rational—at least not to other people. But the comments I’m hearing from the cops we deal with make it sound like even the people involved don’t really understand what made them snap. And they don’t back down easily, not until they’re in custody. Then they’re suddenly back to normal, wondering how the hell they ended up in jail.”
Teag caught my eye. “Hex bags?”
“Maybe. But it’s awfully widespread for a single spell,” I replied. “And that wouldn’t explain the ghosts or some of the other stuff.”
“What’s strong enough to affect the living and the dead—and their spirits?” Kell asked, and a cold feeling of dread settled in my gut. Because anything that strong was going to be a son of a bitch to stop.
Chapter Six
I hadn’t seen Sorren since the night at Magnolia Cemetery, but that wasn’t unusual. Trifles and Folly is only one of the many fronts for the Alliance that Sorren runs all over the world, and flare-ups at those other locations can take him out of town—and off the grid—for days or weeks.
Still, Charleston is close to Sorren’s heart for many reasons, and he usually keeps pretty close tabs on the city. He texted me every day with questions about the goings-on, and I filled him in. Sorren promised he was looking into the problems from his own angle, and that he would tell us everything soon. So I had to trust that the messages I’d left and the secure emails were giving him what he needed and that he would come back when he could with more answers.
In the meantime, we had work to do. The morning shaped up to be another busy day, and while customers w
ere even more curt and impatient, they came ready to buy.
“Rough night?” I asked Teag as he refilled his coffee in the break room. He looked haggard and a little bleary-eyed. Everyone had been in good spirits when we left the restaurant, so I doubted he and Anthony had a fight.
“Bad dreams,” he replied. “I can’t shake them. I’ve smudged with sage, lit candles, cleansed my chakras, washed the sheets with lavender—nada. Last night I tried a stiff belt of whiskey, and it made me drowsy, but I still woke up with the dreams…nightmares…in the middle of the night.”
“Are you dreaming about things we’ve seen?” I leaned back against the counter. Heaven knows we’ve been through some horrific stuff in service to protecting the city—and the world—from supernatural threats. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to more than my share of nightmares myself. Fortunately, Kell’s a patient soul. And I knew for a fact that Anthony would walk through fire for Teag. But talking about horrors that most people couldn’t fathom was easier with someone who had been there, and that meant Teag and I needed to depend on each other more than ever.
“No—or at least, not all of it,” Teag replied, and he looked away. I could tell from how he shifted from me that he felt embarrassed.
“Talk to me,” I coaxed. The stuff we do, like that fight at the cemetery or the ghouls in the morgue, weighs on a person. Horrors of war—that’s real, even if what we’re killing is already dead. “Let me help.”
Teag drew a shuddering breath, and drew his coffee cup in close to his body, like a shield. He kept looking at the floor. “Sometimes I see bits of all the fights we’ve been in, all mashed together. I think those are the normal nightmares because that stuff is hella terrifying and I figure my mind needs extra cycles to process.”
“Sounds about right,” I agreed. “I get the same kind of dreams. More often than I’d like to admit.”
“Lately though, it’s been worse.” Teag’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “What I’m dreaming feels real, but they’re not my memories. They’re not even always my time period.” He ran a hand through his long, dark bangs. “Sometimes, I see smoke and fire and battlefields, but from a long time ago—Romans maybe, or Vikings. It doesn’t look like something from a movie. I swear, the memories are real—they aren’t mine.”
He paused, then went on. “I see a man in the shadows, often in silhouette. He’s lanky and built like a fighter, and he has a staff that’s taller than he is. I can’t tell what time period, just that he wears a cloak and, the weirdest thing is, he has a head like a bird.” Teag looked off past me, remembering. “There is a woman, too. I can’t see her face, but I can feel her power. Both of them are scary strong, old magic. I get the feeling that they’re going to fight, or that they have fought, but I wake up before I see the battle.”
I put a hand on his arm. “Have you talked with Mrs. Teller? Maybe someone’s put a root on you, or a hex bag?”
He shook his head. “She says no, there’s nothing like that. But she does see dark energy around me, and she’s given me all the protections she has.”
“Dark energy?” That worried me, and I remembered the ghostly warning at the museum. “Is this something we need to get Rowan to look into? Because if someone’s screwing around with magic, you and Anthony are in danger.”
“In a lot of the dreams I’m running away from something, trying to hide,” Teag continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Something bad is looking for me, chasing me. Maybe the big man with the raven head. It’s a forest at night, foggy and dark. I run as hard as I can, I’ve been running in the dream for a while, but it’s still behind me, closing in. Searching for me.”
“Can you see what’s chasing you?” My voice had fallen as well, and I glanced toward the door to the front of the shop, hoping Maggie was holding her own with the customers because I couldn’t leave Teag like this.
He bit his lip, then shook his head. “No. I never see a face, but I know it’s bad. Deep down in my gut, I know it’s a monster, and if it catches me, I’m dead. Worse than dead.” He looked up at me, finally, and his eyes were wet and red. “I don’t know what to do, Cassidy. Anthony’s beside himself worrying about me. He wants me to go see a doctor. But I don’t dare take sleeping pills. What if I take the pills and they slow me down enough that the monster can catch me?”
Teag set his mug aside, and his hand shook. “I think the dreams are real,” he confided. “I’m not sure how they’re real, but I don’t believe they’re my imagination or from something I saw on TV. And the worst of it is, whatever’s chasing me is powerful. I can feel it. Anthony wants to help, but this is so far beyond the kind of things he knows how to handle. I’m scared, Cassidy.”
I took both Teag’s hands in mine. “We’ll figure this out. How about we start with having Rowan and Lucinda refresh the wardings around your house, and if you’re okay with it, do a special warding on your bedroom. The first thing we need to do is put up a firewall around your dreams, and then we’ll figure out who the son of a bitch is that’s doing this to you.”
He nodded, looking relieved to have finally gotten the matter off his chest. I gave his hands a squeeze. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Sorren should be back soon, and maybe he can shed some light. We’ll fix it.”
Just then, Maggie screamed.
Teag and I came running. The Opal Lady was back, and she had gone after Maggie right over the counter, fists flailing. Her pink shawl flapped over her back and shoulders like a weird cape, as she tried to haul herself across the display case. Maggie had a vivid red mark on her cheek from a blow that might turn into a black eye, but at the moment, she’d managed to plaster herself against the wall, out of reach of Opal Lady’s clawing hands.
“Get away from her!” I shouted. “Stop this minute!”
Opal Lady ignored me. Teag lunged for her, while I moved around the counter to get Maggie to safety, shielding her from the pink-clad attacker with my body. Teag’s martial arts training came in handy, and he managed to get her off the fragile glass case before it caved in and skewered her. I dialed the cops, once I’d steered Maggie to a seat in the break room. Teag had Opal Lady pinned face-down on the floor, but she kept on screaming and thrashing like a madwoman.
Several customers fled, but two women hung back, watching worriedly from the other side of the shop. “We saw it all,” one of them said. She was tall and thin, in a velour jogging suit, with short gray hair.
Her companion wore jeans and a denim jacket, with graying hair pulled back in a braid. “That lady came in the door and went right after your assistant,” she said. “Like she was on a mission.”
The police arrived within minutes and had us all give statements. Maggie looked shaken, and the blow to her cheek had started to bruise, but she spoke to the cops calmly and recounted the attack clearly. They took the struggling Opal Lady away and said they would get back to Maggie about pressing charges. Only after they left did she slump in the chair and bury her face in her hands.
“Can I get you some tea?” I felt completely inadequate. I hadn’t been able to protect Maggie inside the store. Our wardings are for supernatural threats, not crazy people. And Teag was hurting, but I didn’t know how to help. What good was magic when it couldn’t fix the things that mattered?
I closed the shop early, and we drove Maggie home. Maggie’s strong; I knew she’d bounce back. Fortunately, the injury wasn’t serious. But it’s the feeling of vulnerability that comes from an attack that takes a while to fade, long after bruises and cuts had healed. And I wondered if that vulnerability didn’t lie at the heart of Teag’s bad dreams.
For the moment, I seemed to be the most functional of our little group. Was that a good thing, or did it mean I hadn’t reached my breaking point yet?
I left another message for Sorren, updating him on the incident, and drove Teag back to get his car. The attack on Maggie troubled him.
Teag rubbed his hands together as if to scrape off unpleasant residue. “When the cops pulled
Opal Lady away from me, I brushed against her pink shawl. It had a really bad vibe, maybe even cursed. I wonder if it’s what made her attack Maggie.”
“We need to find out who Opal Lady is, and who her enemies might be,” I replied. “Because she’s either pissed off a witch, or someone she knows has powerful friends.”
By the time I’d fed Baxter and eaten my dinner, Teag had tracked down Opal Lady and called me to fill me in.
“Joan Tandy,” he said, as I finished my last bite of chicken casserole and put my plate in the dishwasher. “I’ve got an address and a phone number. And even more important—thanks to social media, I’ve tracked down her best friends. They should know whether she’s always been a loose cannon, or if this is new, or when things started to change.”
“Maybe they’ll also know where the shawl came from,” I said, giving Bax an after-dinner biscuit. “That’s what I want to know.”
After I hung up, I scooped up the pile of mail I’d brought in with me from where I dumped it on the counter. I divided the envelopes between bills and junk mail and paused at the small box. I recognized the markings as a store in Charlotte where my mother often picked up little presents for me, sometimes for holidays, sometimes just because. She hadn’t said anything about sending me a gift, but then again, she often doesn’t, claiming that the surprise is part of the present.
“What do you think it is, Bax?” I asked, as I carefully opened the box. Bax huffed and lay down at my feet, making it clear that any gift that wasn’t edible didn’t merit his attention.
“Oh, wow.” The lovely hand-loomed scarf lay on a bed of tissue paper. It was perfectly dyed, and the soft yarn begged to be snuggled. I figured the gift card from mom was underneath.
As soon as I moved the tissue paper and touched the scarf, the energy of the box felt all wrong. A distraction spell? I wondered. A spell would have to be pretty powerful for my magic not to have picked up on bad energy when I first lifted the box. I stumbled, as my head started to pound and my stomach suddenly rebelled. My balance seemed off, and my vision blurred. I knew then that whoever sent the scarf, it wasn’t my mom. I dropped the box, and as I fell, the scarf fell with me.
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