Bad to the Crone

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Bad to the Crone Page 20

by Amanda M. Lee


  He reached for an identical doughnut. “I didn’t. It’s my favorite, and that’s all that matters. Between these and the powdered doughnuts, I always know how to get my sugar fix.”

  I laughed, some of the weight from the previous day floating away. I felt better, which would only serve to infuriate me later when I had time to think about it. For now, I pushed it out of my head.

  “So, I should probably catch you up on everything I did yesterday,” I noted, remembering how far behind he was. “You’re probably not going to be happy.”

  “If you’re talking about Raisin, I already know. I wish you would’ve waited for me, but I’m not sorry she’s out of that house. Things will be better for her now.”

  “Yeah. I figured you would hear about that from your father. That’s not what I was referring to, though. There are other … things.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He lifted an eyebrow and stared at me. “What things are we talking about?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “You already said that.”

  “Okay, well ... I cast a spell to follow footprints from the site where we found Hal’s body. They led to All Souls Church. Then, because everyone was at the church, I took Bonnie with me to Hal’s house and we broke in. Everything seemed normal except for this really old grimoire he had, so we stole it.”

  Gunner’s mouth dropped open. “What? You cannot be serious.”

  “I’m not done.” I figured it was best to get it all out there. “I came home and looked at the grimoire. It’s, like, eight different languages, most of them dead, and a lot of freaky images. Later, when I was feeling antsy, I broke into the church because I thought it was empty. It turns out it wasn’t.

  “There were people inside, including Cecily, and when I went into that little room behind the altar I found a stairwell that leads to the basement ... and I heard chanting down there, and not fun ‘Let’s dance in a circle’ chanting, either,” I continued. “Cecily came into the room right after I escaped. I don’t think she saw me, but I can’t be certain. Also, when I got back last night, someone had been digging in the yard. I have no idea why, but I’m guessing it’s to dislodge the salt that Rain placed around the cabin.”

  Gunner’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t identify. “Is that it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, great.” He braced his hands on the counter. “Now I have all the facts and we can talk about what an idiot you are and how I’m going to kill you.”

  Instead of rising to the bait, I grinned. “It’s nice to be back to normal, huh?”

  He didn’t answer, his eyes flashing murder instead of merriment.

  “If you’re going to yell it’ll have to wait until after I take a shower,” I insisted, grabbing my coffee and doughnut and heading toward the bathroom. “The grimoire is in my bedroom if you want a look. I figure a twenty-minute shower should be long enough for you to calm yourself.”

  “Better make it twenty-five,” he growled.

  “Consider it done.”

  Twenty-One

  Gunner was reclining on the bed, the kitten stretched out across his chest and the book resting on his stomach, when I exited the bathroom. I’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt, my hair wet, and I felt exposed when I joined him.

  “Anything?” I asked, rubbing my hands together.

  “I guess that depends on how much you trust my ancient Sumerian.”

  I was surprised “It has to be better than mine.”

  “Don’t get too excited,” he admonished. “I was joking. I have no idea if this is Sumerian.” He tapped a page for emphasis, causing me to lean closer.

  “That’s Sanskrit.”

  “Oh, well, my Sanskrit is even worse.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, well ... .” I slid onto the bed and positioned myself so I was close but not touching him. He gave me a heavy-lidded look and for a moment I wondered what he was thinking. There was no way I could ask, because I simply wasn’t mature enough to put myself out there that way. Honestly, it was fairly obvious he felt the same way.

  So, in lieu of either of us growing a backbone, we would simply suffer.

  “It’s definitely dark magic,” Gunner said after a beat, his eyes back on the book. “I don’t understand where it came from. More than what it can do — which is an issue, granted, but not one we can solve yet — I’m worried about where it came from. Hal doesn’t strike me as the sort of guy who went to antique shows to buy old spell books.”

  “Probably not,” I agreed, absently rubbing my finger over the kitten’s nose as it purred maniacally. “Do you have occult stores in this area?”

  He shrugged. “Not in town. There are some magic shops around, most scattered across other small towns, but none of them are havens of dark magic. Almost all of them are places for tarot readings and incense. That’s about it.”

  I smirked at the image he conjured. “I know the places you’re talking about.”

  “There’s a store in Hemlock Cove that offers real magical items, but I very much doubt they’d be putting grimoires on the racks. They’re not reckless, despite the stories I’ve heard about the eldest witch. Apparently she’s all kinds of nuts.”

  I snickered. “You’ve mentioned Hemlock Cove twice now. I’ll have to take a trip over there.”

  “I’ll go with you. I haven’t been in years and wouldn’t mind a refresher. But that’s for another day. We need to focus on this.” He flipped a page, bringing up a bright red illustration. It looked like flames leaping from a cave and threatening to take over the wooded expanse surrounding the stony edifice.

  Something occurred to me. “Do you believe in hellmouths?”

  Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Gunner straightened on the bed and stared at me. “That’s a weird question.”

  “I know. It came up when Raisin was here yesterday. She says she believes Hawthorne Hollow is located on a hellmouth.”

  “And what do you think?”

  I shrugged, holding out my hands, unsure. “I don’t know.” That was the truth. “I would like to think I would recognize a hellmouth if I were standing over it. I know Raisin’s imagination tends to get away from her, but this book is full of fiery illustrations.”

  “It is,” he agreed, thoughtful. “I’m not a witch, so I’m not as sensitive as you, but wolf shifters sense things, too ... especially about the environment. I have trouble believing we’re sitting on a hellmouth and don’t realize it. I think we would know.”

  “Right.” I agreed with him, at least for the most part. “Why all the illustrations revolving around fiery death, though?”

  “I don’t know. You have to think back to when this book was written. Given all the dead languages, I think someone was trying to hide the spells collected here. Maybe the person who found all of them simply didn’t know how to translate them, or maybe it’s something more nefarious.

  “Either way, the book is old,” he continued. “Depictions of Hell have accompanied dark magic from the beginning of time. It might not be a reflection of what’s really happening as much as the author’s fear — or maybe even fervent wish — of what he or she wants to come.”

  I regarded him a moment, amused. “That was almost poetic.”

  He offered up a self-assured wink. It was as close to flirting as either of us had managed so far, and he backed off immediately.

  “Tell me about what happened at the church again,” he prodded, clearing his throat as he sobered.

  “There’s not much to tell.” I was glad he redirected the conversation, because I was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable. “I thought it was empty so I broke in. The prayer books seem normal — I mean, as far as I can tell — and the back room is weird.

  “I figured it was a place for Father Bram to change, collect himself before sermons,” I continued. “I was right about that. It’s a very ornate little room, a lot of weird statues and art. There’s also a really weird mirror that I’m pre
tty sure is evil.”

  He arched an eyebrow, surprised. “You think the mirror is evil?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How so?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. “I don’t know how to explain it. I saw myself in the mirror and, for a second, it was almost as if I wasn’t by myself, as if someone was in the mirror with me. The entire thing was weird, because the chants from the basement were kind of lulling me. It was almost as if I was getting very close to drifting into a trance.”

  He closed the grimoire and leaned forward, forgetting about the cat in the process and ignoring the way it protested as it moved from his chest to me. “You think you were in a trance?”

  “I was getting close to a trance,” I corrected. “I was fully aware of everything going on around me. Weird movement was happening in an old mirror that was really close to the stairwell. I think it’s possible I could’ve fallen into a trance if Cecily hadn’t picked that moment to arrive.”

  “And who was she talking to?”

  “I don’t know. For some reason, I assumed it was Father Bram, but it wasn’t. I don’t recognize faces because I haven’t been here long enough, and I’d never heard the voice before. I don’t know who she was talking to.”

  Gunner lapsed into silence, stroking his chin as he considered everything I’d related. Finally, he raised his eyebrows and snagged my gaze. “I have an idea.”

  “Coming from you, I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with whatever you’re about to suggest.”

  His grin widened. “I think you’re going to like it.”

  “And why is that?”

  “All Souls Church is due for a lumber delivery. It’s scheduled for tomorrow, but I’ll bet I can get Brandon to move it up a day.”

  I leaned forward, intrigued. “And then what? Are we going to enchant the lumber to show us the congregation’s secrets?”

  He snorted. “No. I’m going to distract Father Bram and Cecily with an unexpected delivery while you get into that basement and have a look around.”

  I balked. “You want me to break into the basement? How is that a good idea?”

  “We need to see what’s down there.” He was calm. “You said there was chanting. We have a ritual death on our plate and a dead guy who died weeks ago yet somehow got up the strength to climb out of his casket and visit you in the middle of the night.”

  I squirmed, uncomfortable. “But ... you said you don’t like it when I break into places.”

  “I don’t like it when you do it and I’m not there,” he clarified. “I’ll be there today. If you run into trouble, then I will call the cavalry and we’ll swoop in to get you.”

  “Big, fat load of good that will do me if whatever is in the basement eats me,” I groused, making a face.

  He flicked my ear and smirked. “Do you have a better suggestion? I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to, but I don’t see where we have any other option. Our one lead is the church. If they’re doing funky stuff, we need to know what that funky stuff is.”

  “So, basically you’re saying I’m on funky patrol?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I let loose a resigned sigh. “Okay, well ... I guess I’m up to the challenge. How exactly are we going to make this happen?”

  “Leave that to me.”

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, GUNNER arranged for the church’s delivery to be moved up a day. Brandon didn’t argue when Gunner insisted it was necessary, instead putting an entire team on the order. In less than two hours, the lumber was ready for delivery, which meant our plan was ready to put into action.

  “Okay, I’m going in the front,” Gunner noted as he dropped me off on the street behind the church. I was hidden from prying eyes at this location, which meant it was the perfect place to serve as a rendezvous point. “You need to get as close as you can to the church without anyone seeing you. As soon as Father Bram and Cecily are with me in the parking lot, I’ll text you the all clear.

  “Now, I’m going to do my best to keep them busy but you need to be prepared to run if it comes to it,” he continued. “I can’t account for everyone in the church. Cecily might be Bram’s right-hand woman, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other equally zealous acolytes.

  “Don’t use your magic unless you absolutely have to,” he ordered. “We don’t want to explain how you managed to set Willa Frederickson on fire without any matches if she stops you and starts asking invasive questions.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not new. I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop worrying about you, but we’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll text when it’s clear to go inside. If you run into trouble ... .”

  “You’ll be the first one I call,” I promised, forcing a smile for his benefit. I wasn’t exactly keen to return to the church, but I didn’t see many options. “Don’t turn yourself inside out. I’ve handled much more dangerous assignments than this one.”

  “Not on my watch.”

  “Well, you’ll have to get used to it. We’re working together, right? That means we need to trust one another.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly. “Now, get moving. Hopefully, if everything goes as planned, you’ll be inside within five minutes.”

  “Here’s hoping.”

  AS FAR AS PLANS GO, OURS WAS solid. True to his word, Gunner caused a ruckus when he pulled into the parking lot with the huge load of wood. The church members weren’t expecting him, so they kicked up enough of a fuss that Cecily and Father Bram exited the building. They looked to be questioning Gunner when I slipped in through the same side door I’d used the night before. I couldn’t hear them, but trusted that Gunner would keep them distracted as long as possible.

  That left me to search the basement. I was a bit nervous. I kept picturing monsters living there, demons that required chanting as part of a tribute. The church was empty, so it was easy for me to slip through it without detection. I was back in Father Bram’s private room in less than sixty seconds, and once there, I took a moment to stand in front of the mirror again to see if I could sense the second presence. When it didn’t immediately occur, I pushed the notion to the back of my brain and headed for the stairwell. The basement was my highest priority for the day. The mirror would have to wait.

  I cocked my head and listened at the top of the stairs. Unlike the previous evening, there was no eerie light to lead the way. And there was no chanting, which allowed me to tamp down the fear that threatened to grab me by the throat and push past it.

  I was careful as I descended the spiral staircase that led to what felt like a dank underground cavern. The room I ended up in was poorly lit, and almost entirely empty except for three boxes stacked against the nearest wall. I peered into the top box, furrowing my brow as I tried to make out the contents. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the same prayer books I’d spied upstairs. I shoved one in the waistband of my pants, pressing it flush against my back, and continued through the claustrophobic space. I figured I could look more closely later. The odds of Father Bram putting his nefarious plans in prayer books and then putting them on display for anybody to see were slim, but I was curious enough that I wanted to be sure.

  The next room I visited looked to be a dressing room of some sort. I had no idea if the church used to belong to another denomination, but the more I stared at the setup of the room, the more it looked like a way to segregate the sexes ... or perhaps serve as a crying room for small children to get them away from the sermon when they were in foul moods. But I was almost positive I’d seen a crying room on the main floor. Perhaps that room was newer and replaced this one.

  The next room I found contained more boxes. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I peeked in a few of the open ones. The first seemed to include dirt, which frankly baffled me. I touched the substance to be sure, lifted it to my nose, and then shook my head as I brushed off my hand. It was definitely dirt.
What I didn’t understand is why anybody would keep dirt in a box in a church basement. Perhaps it was special dirt ... or perhaps the congregants were even nuttier than I first thought.

  My inner map told me I should be getting close to the end of the basement, so I wasn’t surprised when I walked into the final room and realized the only way out was another stairwell, this one exiting near the front door. I’d seen it the first day I visited.

  This final room contained a symbol painted on the floor, one I didn’t recognize but which gave me shivers all the same. I dug for my phone so I could take a photo of it, frowning as something niggled the back of my brain. I didn’t recognize the symbol. It wasn’t from a pagan textbook or anything that I’d read while preparing to join the club. It was somehow familiar, though. I simply couldn’t remember where I’d seen it before.

  To make sure I got the symbol from every angle, I slowly circled and snapped at least five photos. I was almost back to where I’d started and ready to head back the way I came when I walked past a small alcove that I hadn’t immediately seen because it was set behind a recessed wall.

  “That’s weird,” I muttered, poking my head in. The space was small, probably only three feet across and eight feet deep. I had no idea the purpose of the room. I honestly didn’t care, though, because it was now being used to store a dead body.

  “Holy ... !” My mouth dropped open when I caught sight of the dead man resting in the far corner. His features were pale, waxy. His clothes were torn and ragged. There was a definite stench.

  Oh, and his hand was moving. Wait ... so was his head! He was dead, very clearly dead, and yet he was moving.

  I let loose a strangled gasp as the man slowly rose to unsteady feet. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, because he didn’t bend his appendages as much as he suddenly appeared on his feet ... and focused on me.

 

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