Stained

by Jessica McBrayer

  She looked away, a stubborn set to her jaw.

  “Don’t be difficult, please.”

  “I’m not being difficult,” he said. “I asked a simple question.”

  “And I’m done answering them,” Thorn said, firmly but not unkindly. “For your protection.”

  “Fine, but get a cell phone then. Keep me in the loop,” Sé said tightly.

  “I don’t like phones. They keep breaking because of my magick. It’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t share your optimism,” he reached for her hand. “Check in with me every day? Let me know you’re still alive and well?”

  “I think it would be best if I don’t talk to you other than professionally.”

  “I can’t keep covering for you.” His voice rose as he lost patience with her resistance. “Besides if that’s the only reason we have to talk, you can bet there’ll be questions I’ll need to clarify.”

  “What have you covered up for me?”

  Sé put his hands up. “I haven’t covered anything. I’ve been the voice of reason, but I can’t keep doing that without information.”

  “I can’t give you what you want.”

  “Can’t or won’t? Time to stop running and start trusting someone, Thorn. Let someone in.”

  Thorn watched as Sé turned away, back straight, moving gracefully, despite his anger. He closed the door behind him, with a restraint that seemed to underscore his frustration more than if he’d slammed it. Thorn shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. She smelled her herbs and candles and the faint scent of grease from the dinner she cooked for Uncle. He lay fast asleep in her bedroom.

  “That went well.”

  “Be quiet, Raven.”

  “What did you expect, my little witchling? He’s a proud man. He wants to protect you and he is used to knowing what’s going on.”

  “You’re not making me feel any better.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to feel better right now. But you did the right thing. He will be safer this way.”

  “I know. I think I need a glass of wine and a long hot bath.” Raven was finally quiet. Thorn poured her deep crimson wine into a tall goblet and took a long drink on her way to the bathroom.

  She ran the hot water in the deep white cast-iron bathtub until she could submerge herself in hot scented water. Thorn eased herself into the tub, letting the heat relax her thoughts and muscles. Her glass of wine near at hand, she took long drinks of it from time to time, considering what to do next. The deep burgundy of the wine contrasted with the clear water, she observed, like her heart, two sides battling their separate causes.

  By the time the water was cool and her glass was empty, she had a plan of action. At least a next step. She would immerse herself in her work at the shop and delve into her books. She would study everything she could on black magick, and learn to ward herself against Caleb. The only way to beat him was to know where he was coming from. She knew this would be dangerous. Just opening the evil books made her spine tingle and her mind buzz. Yet, there was a call from the darkness, another knowledge, the mirror of her magickal system that had always intrigued her. She stayed as far away from it as she could.

  She had a plan, though it might corrupt everything she stood for. But first she had a few details to attend to.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper. Every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt overcome. This is the heritage of the servants of the Goddess. Their righteousness is of me.

  After Thorn was sure her employees were gone for the night, she made her way down to the filing cabinet that held her employee files, carrying a bag of supplies with her. Flipping through her files she found Gérard’s home address. Gérard Desmarais. She knew he came from creole stock and was born in Louisiana. She should have put two and two together when she started noticing the soft, sing-song, almost-sound that was always, a little too soft to be understood, he made while he worked. One conclusion leapt to mind. She’d let a voodoo priest practice in her sanctified shop! She would have to re-sanctify it and cleanse everything. She was sure he was Sé’s attacker the other day too.

  Voodoo, in and of itself, wasn’t a dark religion but Gérard’s keeping it hidden from her was suspicious. That and the way he had tried to use it against her uncle. If Gerard had been at Willow’s death scene, he was indeed very dark. If he had any talent he had to have sensed he was on sanctified ground when he came into Stained. It would have been like entering a holy place. He had deliberately desecrated it.

  Thorn memorized his address and left to get her bike. She swung a long leg over it and made it purr, before leaving the alley as quietly as possible. Uncle needed to rest and recover from the trip. Raven was with her, flying steady to her right, guarding her.

  They came to a stop a block from Gérard’s. She swung her messenger bag to her back and Raven flew off to scout. Thorn made her way to his house slowly, using shadows as much as possible.

  “He’s up and in the middle of a ceremony. He has candles lit and he has a chicken in a cage. There’s a big knife next to him.”

  “Thanks Raven,” Thorn whispered. She made her way to a window and peeked in. Unfortunately, Gérard looked up at the same moment. His eyes went wide showing massive amounts of white.

  Thorn raced to the front door. It took two kicks and the reverberations hit her hip hard. The door flew open and Gérard was ready for her.

  “Witch! Listen to me.”

  “Priest! How dare you desecrate my shop!”

  Gérard shook his head, and shrugged. He threw a repulsion spell at her. Thorn barely dodged it.

  “Get out of my house!”

  “What, turnabout’s no fair?” Thorn sneered at him. She grabbed a sachet of herbs from her bag and scattered them on him. He sneezed, activating a binding spell.

  “Gérard Desmarais I…” She couldn’t finish before he flung a spell at her and she had to dive. It was a nasty one too. A thick yellow slime oozed, down the wall behind her. When she was down she sent an immobilizing spell at him, which he was able to dodge.

  Thorn jumped back up and threw herself across the floor avoiding another spell. She slung a powerful disruption spell at him. It hit him squarely in the chest and sent him sprawling. Before he could recover she sent another immobilizing spell at him.

  “Gérard Desmarais, I bind you,” she said, breathing hard. “I bind you twice, I bind you thrice. To do no harm to person or place, I bind you.” With that she took a long shuddering breath. “If you touch Sé or my uncle again you will get much worse than a binding. Oh, and you’re fired.” She straightened up and limped out of the house, which now looked like a demolition zone, and made her way down the street on unsteady feet, but feeling much better. Raven flew around her head in circles.

  “That was some fine spell work, my little witchling.”

  “Thanks, Raven. But I don’t know if that will really stop him. It should keep him out of my hair for a while though. The bastard did a lot of damage I have to clean up yet tonight.”

  “Yes, but you vanquished your enemy. That’s cause for celebration!”

  “You’re right. Do you want to stop off somewhere and eat, my dear?”

  “Yesth.”

  “Lead the way, Raven,” Thorn said, with a smile.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sacred water flow from me to draw him ever near, as endless rivers run to sea his path to me is clear. A love that true, once here will find, and know his journeys end.

  In his heart, soul, and mind, he will know that our lives will blend.

  Sé left feeling like he’d been played. He had hoped to get some more details out of her and he came away feeling like a chastised child. He slammed the door of his car. Of course having Kate mess with her had fucked things royally. He would have a talk with that woman. Did he buy into the fact that something was out there and coming for Thorn? Why Thorn? What was so special about her? What about all the new evid
ence against her? He hadn’t spent years on the force without picking up on the fact that this case was escalating. The killer had all but named her in the last murder. Was it a set up or was it a calling card? Was she in danger or was she laughing at them? He had withheld evidence, put himself above his training. He’d crossed a line he’d never considered crossing before. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep her out of jail or if he even wanted to at this point. It might be the safest place for her. Then again, a witch confined in a small cell would be a living hell.

  Sé had that feeling again and it told him whatever Thorn had planned, she was doing it alone, and that was bad. Maybe it was his male ego, but he couldn’t help thinking his experience would add something. He was afraid she was in over her head, felt it deep in his gut. He was a mess, mad as hell, but something about the way her eyes softened when she was amused and the sound of her voice had him wanting to see her again. He was already too personally involved. He should take himself off the case. That wasn’t going to happen. Right now he had to find Kate and knock her head against something.

  Uncle Charles rose early. Thorn moved slowly, fogbound, while her uncle wandered around her apartment, at a spritely pace. Raven cawed and lifted off his perch landing back down again, taking umbrage at the early hour. Uncle just laughed at the two of them.

  “Let’s get us some coffee, my lass, and maybe something delicious from that bakery I saw yesterday.”

  “Uncle, I don’t know how you lived to be so old eating the way you do,” Thorn groaned as she stumbled after him towards the door.

  The shop wasn’t open yet. She couldn’t remember seeing it in the morning light for a long time. It was peaceful, her place in the world. In the midst of every problem she faced, the sense of ownership filled her with contentment.

  She led the way down the empty street, filled with the homeless, just shuffling to life in the cold morning air, to Peet’s Coffee. Uncle got a large cappuccino and a couple of scones. Thorn opted for dark roast. The thought of eating at that hour turned her stomach. They found a table among the college students and early shop-keepers, and settled in to savor their morning pick me up. Thorn sipped the brew and felt her senses slowly wake. She observed her surroundings as she enjoyed the rich smell of fresh roasted and ground coffee. The pungent scents invigorated her.

  She crossed her legs, leaned on the table and studied the people who surrounded her. She recognized a couple of shop owners from their stores on Telegraph, and other people from their having frequented Stained. Most were just unknown faces, until the door opened letting cold air in, making her shiver and look up. It was Sé. Damn. Was he following her? Didn’t he usually work nights too? He wore jeans, a blue sweater that matched his eyes and a leather jacket, so he wasn’t dressed for work. How did he know she’d be here? Thorn didn’t hold with coincidences, no witch did. She didn’t know whether she should acknowledge him or not, the decision was taken out of her hands as he came over to their table.

  “Good morning, Mr. Beglan, Thorn. How did you sleep?” Sé asked like nothing had happened between he and Thorn, last night. Meanwhile people sipped their coffees and read their papers. Uncle Charles grinned behind his coffee cup. His eyes sparkled.

  “Well good morning to you, young officer, O’Bradigen. What brings you here this morning?” Uncle Charles asked.

  “Just getting my java fix like everyone else. Mind if I join you?”

  “Well…” Thorn started.

  “Of course not,” Uncle Charles said.

  Thorn flashed a look of irritation at Uncle Charles. He promptly ignored it.

  “Thank you,” Sé said.

  “How did you know we’d be here?” Thorn grumbled.

  “My formidable detecting skills.” Thorn snorted. “Besides I knew from talking to your Uncle that he’s an early riser and we’ve been here before, ergo, people are creatures of habit.” Before Thorn could object, he pulled a chair over and sat in it backwards with a big smile on his face. Thorn grimaced. She couldn’t figure out what he was up to but it couldn’t be good. Hadn’t she just told him to stay away? Like a puppy that needed to be trained, she would have to remind him again, gently, but sternly.

  “Lovely weather we’re having today. The forecast is for rain but it seems to be holding out for later in the day,” Sé said, making small talk. He sipped his hot coffee carefully.

  “I miss the light mists of home already, Mr. O’Bradigen, but I will look forward to a good heavy rain if we get it.”

  “I miss the green of Ireland, Mr. Beglan, it makes my heart ache at times.”

  “Ach, you never get it out of your system do you? How long has it been since you were there?” Uncle said, sincerely. “Please call me Charles.”

  Sé put his cup down. Thorn turned her cup in her hands finding a hot spot to warm her fingers.

  “It’s been four years now, since my mamó died. Too long.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mamó, God rest her soul” Charles said, gently. “Were you close?”

  “Yes, very. I spent every summer there with her while I was growing up and visited as often as I could when I was older.”

  Thorn was ready to pull her hair out, but she didn’t know any good spells to make it grow back. Why was her uncle acting so chummy with Sé? Didn’t he think of him as the enemy?

  “It’s so nice to meet a good Irish lad who honors his elders.” What was Uncle saying now? Good Goddess! She really needed to get out of there. She had work to do on top of her work at Stained and she was behind with her customers to start with. While her mind wandered Sé got up to leave, finally.

  “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Charles. Please call me Sé.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, my lad.”

  Sé left and Thorn couldn’t help noticing how his jeans were worn in all the right places. She said a spell of protection over him sending a piece of her energy to him before he made it out the door. He was a loner like her and he had integrity. He was a man you could depend on. Beneath her irritation, Thorn was starting to trust him and it scared her. She was lost watching him walk down the street. Her uncle’s dry warm hand found its way to hers.

  “He’s worth the risk, dear heart.”

  “No, Uncle,” she sighed. “Caleb can’t know about him. We can’t see him anymore. It would be leading a cat to a mouse.”

  “I think Sé has a part to play in this, and he is determined to protect you one way or another. Why else was he here?”

  “Hmmm. I think you’re right about him wanting to protect me. I’ll just have to be more firm about it. I can’t risk his safety.”

  “Your heart, my dear, must also be strong during the fight. Your grandma Muirin would have told you that.”

  Thorn didn’t want to face her uncle’s words but he spoke the truth. The problem was that she didn’t want Sé to follow her into the dark places she was about to go. She might come back twisted and maimed. Would he even care about her if he knew what she was going to do? Would he let her do what she wanted to do if he knew about it? Did he have a right to know? The questions roiled in her tired brain—this is why she never got involved, she thought.

  Her mamó Muirin had warned her to grow her heart magick. Her life on the run had left little opportunity or inclination. Now when she might have found someone to grow it with she couldn’t.

  Uncle Charles and Thorn finished their coffees and made their way into the brisk fall air. The sunlight was fading into a gloomy day, more suited for the forecasted rain. They walked along the uneven sidewalks that were beginning to fill up with private vendors, aging hippies and young street people, peddling handmade goods along Telegraph Avenue. Reese and Gwynn were in the shop, getting the place ready for a workday. They were shocked to see Thorn. Her late nights kept her away until afternoon at the earliest.

  “Well hello, sunshine,” Reese said, smiling at them.

  “Good morning, Reese, Gwynn.”

  “Good morning, my lasses, wo
rk hard, keep the devil at bay. That’s what I say,” Uncle Charles said. Gwynn and Reese giggled. He winked at them. Before he did anymore charming, Thorn ushered him upstairs.

  “Saw him,” Raven said.

  “How did you know?

  “Look funny. Tell him go away.”

  “I did. He didn’t listen,” she snarled then sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I don’t know what to do.” She dropped into her favorite chair. “Sé isn’t going to just go away, I’m not sure I want him to either. I want him safe but I admit I like having him around.”

  “Love magick powerful, protect, and attract. Work for and against you.”

  “I know.” It was the way it could work against Sé that concerned her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  White candle, flame so bright, I chant this spell to hold me tight, from bad luck, all day long. I chant this spell so hold me strong!

  Sé left the coffee shop feeling good. He was reasonably sure he could trust Thorn and Charles not to get into trouble during the day. All the murders had taken place at night. Thorn wouldn’t do anything to endanger her uncle. Sé had a brisk step to his walk as he made his way to his bike. He had shown his intentions to stay involved in her life and he wasn’t going to give her a chance to push him away again. He was smiling and didn’t realize it.

  Then he thought of his next task, Kate, and the good mood disappeared. He would back her off. She didn’t do well with no, so he needed to reinforce it. He climbed on his bike and surged the engine too loudly as he roared out on the way to her place.

  Taking Ashby from Telegraph to San Pablo Avenue, Sé was able to ride a straight line along one of Berkeley’s main east, west arteries. Starting higher up in the hills, Ashby ran the gamut from some of Berkeley’s most expensive homes, to lower rent areas near the Bay. He noticed signs of restoration creeping into the area, with approval. Sé parked behind Special Agent Simm’s car in the lot of the trendy new apartment building in Emeryville, where she lived. His bike blocked her vehicle. She couldn’t leave without talking to him. He stomped up the stairs, being as loud as possible to alert her that someone was there, and that someone was pissed. She answered the door before he knocked.