Witching Hour

by Bradford Bates

  Fifteen seconds later the lock had melted, and I had graduated from possibly being a package delivery person to the destruction of property. After I went inside, I’d be adding breaking and entering and theft to my nonexistent criminal resume. If you’re going to do something right, you might as well go big while you’re doing it.

  To my surprise, the knob on the actual door turned when I tried it. I guess they figured if someone made it through a wrought iron security door then the flimsy wooden door wouldn’t prove to be much of a challenge. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  I pushed the door all the way open and listened. Nothing made a sound, but the smell from inside was enough to gag a dead cat. Someone had been squatting here, that or they forgot how to flush the toilet. I stepped inside, and the linoleum floor crackled under my boots. It looked like whoever was crashing here also didn’t know how to use a trashcan. The ground was littered with wrappers and paper plates with half eaten food left on them. At least I think whatever was on those plates had started as food. It was hard to tell when now it was all black with white fuzzies growing out of it.

  The smell had my eyes watering, and I’d had a few unrequested gags burn my throat as my stomach rolled. Thankfully I’d been too nervous to eat this morning. All of my nerves disappeared when a man walked around the corner. He had a shotgun in his hand, but it was hanging limply against his side. It was like he carried it more out of habit than any thought that he might actually have to use it. He walked right past the hallway and into the next room.

  I ducked down and moved into the living room. It seemed that I didn’t move a second too soon as the man with the gun started muttering something in Spanish about Rodrigo and walking towards the open front door. He paused in the doorway and scanned the street before trying to pull the metal door closed. The door just bounced off the frame and opened again. He tried to close it again with the same result. He let out a string of swears and then looked down.

  I was only going to get one chance at this. If he figured out that he was looking at the metal from a melted lock before I got to him things might get more interesting than I wanted. The guard was still trying to figure out what he was looking at when a toilet flushed inside the house.

  The man turned, shotgun coming up to his shoulder. He had a look of confusion on his face. I got it. How could Rodrigo be outside and taking a deuce at the same time? He couldn’t and that all became clear as his eyes located me during his wild spin towards the hallway.

  The shotgun went off, but thankfully he had been moving too fast to swing it back to me. One of the interior walls exploded as the shotgun blast tore through it. My ears were ringing as I slammed my hand into the guard sending him flying backward. He hit the wall and slid to the ground. The shotgun falling out of his limp hand. I hadn’t tried to kill him, but I might have.

  I’d never even killed a bug before let alone a person. I was just standing there over the man when the bathroom door crashed open, and a half-dressed Rodrigo stepped out. He took one look at his fallen compatriot and started shooting.

  I dove back into the living room spattering bits of god knows what everywhere as I landed. Rodrigo was still firing off shots even though he couldn’t see me. That was kind of a dumb thing to do, but let’s just face it, most criminals weren’t exceedingly bright. The gun clicked empty, and I was moving.

  A fireball appeared in my hand as I went around the corner. Rodrigo almost looked surprised when I slammed it into his chest. The fire consumed him completely leaving nothing but a trace of ash on the ground. I might not be the most powerful when it came to being a witch, but against a human, my powers were more than adequate.

  If anything, the charred smell of Rodrigo improved the odor from inside the house. That was really saying something. I took a look at Mr. Shotgun, and he was still out. Just to be safe, I melted the barrel of his gun before walking deeper into the house. Time was of the essence now. I had the feeling if the neighbors called anyone about the gunshots it wouldn’t be the police.

  Moving down the hall, I kept a fireball ready in my hand as I kicked open doors. The first three rooms had nothing. The fourth had a single table and chair in it. On the table was a small black box. Rubio wasn’t paying me to look inside, so I tossed the box into my bag and ran for the front door.

  The yard was still clear outside, but I had the feeling that wouldn’t last for long. I jumped into my car and turned the key. I made a quick turn and punched the gas just as two cars appeared at the end of the block. When they didn’t stop at the house but continued to follow me, I knew this adventure wasn’t done yet. I tossed a fireball at the bottom of one of the cars. It was enough to melt the rubber of their tires. Sparks started to fly as the rims hit the ground.

  The second car almost slammed into the first one but managed to miss it. Another fireball took care of my pursuit for good. I kinda felt like a badass as I sped out of the bad part of town. Not that this town had many good parts. The two cars on their rims trying to keep up with me finally gave up. OK, I didn’t just feel like a badass, I totally was one. That was if you could get rid of the smell and the bits of something gross that were hanging out of my hair.

  You ever notice in the movies that the super-hot female assassin or thief never gets covered in goo. That doesn’t happen in real life. At least it hadn’t worked out that way for me. Maybe that was something that came with practice or after you reached the second level of badassery. If everything went to plan, I’d never find out. Rubio would have my new ID, and then I could find somewhere to settle down and get back to living a quiet life. It seemed like it would be easy to do, but I had a feeling despite this new ID the quiet life might still elude me for some time.

  My rearview mirror was still clear. It looked like I had made it out of there just in time. While I could take on a few men with guns, I’d be hard-pressed to defend myself against a few cars worth of men with automatic weapons. Whenever I got somewhere I could settle down I was going to have to crack open the family grimoire and do some serious training. For now, I’d have to settle on making it to Rubio’s and hoping he felt like living up to his end of the deal.

  Chapter Three

  Rebecca

  Rubio’s place wasn’t much better than the dump I just left. There was a check cashing place on one side and a Long John Silvers on the far side of the parking lot. At least there wasn’t half eaten food discarded all over the floor. There was some trash floating around the parking lot, Rubio should really have someone look into that.

  The outside of the building was a faded deep pink color. It had probably once been the height of fashion, but now it looked like someone had thrown up a bottle of Pepto and it somehow coated the entire building. The bright neon sign from the check cashing place didn’t help the exterior’s image. Bright green and gold flashing lights didn’t exactly bring out the best in the vomit pink color scheme.

  Still, if there were a place no one would be looking for me, this was it. He had a sign out front that said Private Investigator, but what he really was couldn’t be placed on the sign. Being a drug runner and human trafficker didn’t exactly win you community outreach awards. Neither did the feds’ war on drugs. Sadly Rubio seemed more honest about his attention. He was going to screw you over the first chance he got, but you had to know that before you did business with him.

  Doing business with a slimeball like this hadn’t been my first choice, but I was in a new state with no cash and even fewer contacts. When I had first walked into his shop, there was this eerie feeling that I wouldn’t be walking out again. If I was a human girl that might have been the case. A quick lesson in fire and Rubio had a little more understanding of my plight and was more than willing to help as long as he got something first. Walking back into his building now, I knew I’d burn it to the ground if he tried anything again, but not without getting my ID first.

  I entered the office carrying the requested package out in the open. A man sitting against the far wall watc
hed me intently. He was there pretending to be a customer, but the bulge under his coat told me he was anything but. The receptionist looked at me with a mostly vacant expression and then went back to chewing her gum.

  I didn’t have time for this crap, I needed to get out of here before Ash showed up. Stepping up to the receptionist’s desk I started ringing the bell. You know the little silver numbers they used to use in hotels to get the night manager’s attention. It had a harsh grating jangling sound, and the woman reached for it trying to take it away from me. Before she could get it, I picked it up and kept ringing it. Sometimes a girl had to make sure she had your attention.

  The man from the seat moved towards me and started reaching inside of his coat. I tossed the bell into the air and then sent it flying towards him. It hit him in the belly doubling him over and sending his gun tumbling from his hand. I bent down, emptied the six-shooter, and then melted the barrel of the gun.

  “Are we done playing games now or do I have to light one of you on fire?” The man held up his hand in a show of submission before heading back to his chair. The receptionist just stared at me dumbfounded.

  Eventually, she found her voice. “Mr. Mancino is in a meeting right now, you can wait over there.” She pointed towards the chairs against the far side of the wall.

  “You tell that fat bastard to get out here, or I’m going to take this package and throw it off the Hoover Dam on my way out of this godforsaken state.”

  The door to Rubio’s office burst open, and the man himself came rushing out. His pants were unfastened and his shirt untucked. The shirt had a mustard stain on it he was valiantly trying to cover up with his tie. His forehead carried a hefty sheen of sweat, and he looked completely flustered.

  “Jesus, what’s a man have to do to get a few minutes to himself around here,” he yelled at the receptionist while staring daggers at his security man.

  A young woman moved past him and then ran for the door. The guard started to get up, but I motioned for him to sit back down and summoned a small ball of fire. The guard sat back down, and the door chimed as the girl ran out.

  “Sorry, but it seems like your date wasn’t that into you.”

  “Well, she would have been if you didn’t interrupt us.” Rubio started tucking his shirt in and then turned back towards his office motioning me to follow. The guard and the receptionist didn’t budge as I moved deeper into the lion’s den.

  The room smelled sickly sweet. I had some gross ideas about why that was, but I’d rather not dwell on it. Rubio motioned for me to take a seat. A little scoff escaped before I could stop it. His eyebrows both shot to the top of his forehead in a questioning gesture.

  “I think I’d rather stand.”

  He sat down in his chair, and it groaned under his bulk. “Suit yourself.” His eyes turned greedy. “So you’ve got my package.”

  I held up the box so he could see it.

  “Give it here already.” He held out a hand for the box.

  “Not until I get what I came for.” I let a little bit of fire dance across my fingers. “Double-crossing me would be a really bad idea.”

  Rubio opened a drawer on his desk and started rummaging around. I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going for a gun, so I snapped a shield in place and watched him. Eventually, his head surfaced, and he was holding a large manila envelope.

  “Passport, driver’s license, birth certificate, and social security number. All of these will hold up to a little scrutiny. Now give it over.”

  I held the package back as I took the envelope from him. “A little scrutiny isn’t exactly what I was going for.” I needed these to hold up to any kind of check a bank, or a potential employer would run on them.

  Rubio’s grin widened. “Well, sweetheart, beggars can’t be choosers. By the way, you’re paying for this job, you’re definitely a beggar.”

  If he kept this attitude much longer, he’d be begging me for mercy. I kept his package while I dug into the envelope. It was all here, everything that he promised. That was enough for me to reconsider burning down his building, but I wasn’t going to let him off that easy, not when I saw the name on the ID.

  “Jinx Harper? You have to be kidding me?”

  “It’s the best I could do with this kind of short notice. You don’t have anything to worry about if you use this to get a job, it will even pass muster with the cops. Now if you get into some real trouble and the feds get involved you’re totally screwed, but them’s the breaks kid.”

  It would have to do. He was right, beggars couldn’t be choosers. I guess I’d have to find a way to get used to that name. Maybe if I stood in front of the mirror later and said it to myself, I’d get it down. Now I could get a real job and a bank account. Life on the lam just got a whole lot easier.

  Still, this man disgusted me, and I didn’t even want to know what he had been doing with that girl earlier. She hadn’t looked terrified, but she sure hadn’t stuck around when she saw a way out. Maybe there was still time for a little payback. I’d love seeing just how much he wanted what was in the box.

  I let a little fire kiss the edge of it, and Rubio let out a shout. I tossed the box to him at the same time the guard kicked in the door. He wasn’t armed, and I was a little more than impressed that he would come running when his boss screamed given the circumstances. Not many people would do that after they saw you melt a gun with your bare hands.

  “Get me some water,” Rubio shouted as he turned the box over dumping the contents out on his desk.

  I turned away and walked out of the office. Hopefully, that would keep them occupied enough for me to make a clean getaway.

  “Don’t let me see you around here again!” Rubio shouted from his office as I walked out.

  That was a worthless threat, but one I couldn’t let slide. He knew my new identity and if he let that slip to anyone it became worthless. I ran back into his office and saw the bags of white powder on his desk. I figured it would have been something like that. Drugs or cash had been my guess. Still, the sheer amount of what had fit in that little box staggered me. He’d been paid more handsomely for the ID than he deserved.

  I grabbed his arm and sparked my magic burning the limb under my hand. “You will not speak about this transaction ever. Do you understand?” I ratcheted up the heat, and he began to scream. “If you do, I’ll find you.”

  He just nodded and clutched the arm that I released. The box was still burning in the trashcan, and smoke was starting to fill the room. I wanted to leave before I got doused with whatever was going to come out of the fire nozzles on the ceiling. “Don’t let me down Rubio, I’m counting on you not to screw this up.”

  The guard ran in with a pitcher of water as I left. Rubio would need some burn cream for the wound on his arm, and a doctor might wonder why it was in the shape of a handprint, but that was his problem to deal with. I got my ID, and I was about to start a new life as Jinx Harper. Hopefully, this would be just what I needed to get Ash off my tail.

  I’d have to switch cars before I left town, but a quick stop by a parking garage and license plate swap or two, and I should be good to go. So far, everything I had paid for since I’d been in town was paid in cash so there wouldn’t be a money trail for Ash to follow.

  Somehow she always found me. Ash was relentless in her pursuit. Did she really want my family’s grimoire so badly, or was this just about tying up loose ends? I shook off the chill that trickled down my spine and hopped into the car. Now, which way was that mall again?

  Chapter Four

  Ash

  Ugh, what kind of self-respecting witch would come this far west? All of the real power was concentrated on the East Coast. All they had out here were endless miles of uninhabitable desert. It was a surreal feeling to be driving through such a wasteland only to see tiny towns had sprung up along the route.

  These towns’ entire economies had to be based on people that only wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. When the best job in
town was gas station attendant or truck stop hooker, your life’s prospects weren’t exactly all that great. Burning the town down would probably be a kindness, but I didn’t have time for that now.

  I hit the gas pedal hard wanting to put the stench of sex and desperation behind me as fast as possible. Another time I might have stopped to see if there was anyone magical worth recruiting to our cause but not today. Today was the day I finally got to destroy the exile. Her entire family had already been dealt with.

  It still perplexed me how they had hidden the grimoire from me. It must have been that bitch’s dying wish to keep it safe, and now her daughter had it. Sasha was supposed to take care of her, but it turned out she didn’t have the stomach for what needed to be done. Not everyone had the balls to do whatever it took to seize power.

  The Taft family had controlled our coven and its access to their family secrets for the last thousand years. When we decided it was time for a change, that all of us deserved access to their grimoire, they refused. Such an act could not be handled lightly. It hadn’t needed to come down to their deaths. They could have just walked away. Instead, they chose to fight, so I put them down like a farmer would put down a horse with a broken leg.

  Ok. So, maybe it hadn’t been exactly like a horse. Farmers felt remorse when they had to kill one of their animals. I hadn’t felt a single ounce of remorse when I killed the Taft family. All I felt was a sense of glee and fulfillment of my destiny. All of that turned to ashes in my mouth when that bitch managed to hide the book from me, and now I was stuck out here in this godforsaken desert.

  Red and blue lights flared to life behind me and then the cop hit his siren twice to get my attention. No one else was out on the road, so the cop had to be coming for me. I looked down at the speedometer and realized that I was going forty over the speed limit. That was another thing with these craphole little towns, they liked to write tickets, especially to out of towners. A police station with no tax base had to pay for shiny new cars somehow.