by Catie Rhodes
The waitress’s face went blank. She blinked twice and slowly nodded. “Sure. Sure, I remember. Y’all have a nice day.”
“Time to go.” Cecil stood and helped Jadine out of the booth. Finn and Dillon each grabbed a kid and took off for the door. I stumbled after them, feeling dirty and dishonest. Our meal would probably come out of that poor woman’s paycheck. And we allowed that man to get conned. I followed Cecil and the rest of my family to their monstrous pickup and watched them load up, much more hurriedly than they’d arrived. I pulled my car keys from my purse and shifted foot to foot.
Dillon turned to me once her kids were inside the truck. “The persuasion on that waitress won’t wear off for another hour or so. She ain’t gonna run out all hollering and shit.”
“But we still have to go.” Finn pulled me into a quick hug. “Those two women with their rings been running their scam all night, and that one lady has several thousand dollars in her car. We gonna get that money.”
Jadine leaned out the passenger window. “She’s about to get a flat tire. She’ll call her partner then. We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to catch her alone.”
Finn climbed into the back of the truck, and Dillon shoved a slip of paper at me. On it were written several phone numbers, each with a name after. “This is Finn, me, and Jadine. You call or text anytime. Jadine’s got one of them special phones that reads the texts to her.”
“Y’all aren’t going to rob that woman, are you?” I reached into my pocket and felt for my antacids, found my cigarettes instead, and lit one. It did little to calm my jangling nerves.
“You saw me in that restaurant.” Dillon leveled her gaze on mine. “You think I need to force anybody to give me anything?”
Obviously, she and I had different definitions of rob. Best to drop it.
“Oh, in that vision I mentioned.” Jadine waved her hand at me.
“Yes?” I answered out loud so she’d know I was paying attention since she couldn’t see me nod.
“You were getting into a horse-drawn carriage. I got a real bad feeling.” She paused and frowned. “I’m not sure what it meant. Sometimes the stuff I see is symbolic—”
“Wrap it up.” Finn snapped his fingers.
“Just don’t get in any carriages.” Jadine held out her pale hand. I took it and squeezed.
“Thank you.” I stood on my tiptoes to see Cecil. We exchanged a smile, and he blew me a kiss.
“See you soon, baby.” He peeled out of his parking place before I had time to answer.
I watched them cut off another car getting out of the parking lot. The driver laid on his horn. Cecil’s window lowered, and the old man’s fist popped out. He flipped the other driver the bird and pumped it for emphasis.
Holy guacamole. What had I gotten myself into? Not paying for breakfast. Robbing another criminal. Despite what Dillon said, that’s what they were headed off to do. Memaw would have had an absolute shit fit over all this.
I got into my car and caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. My eyes glowed like dark fire. I shivered from the excitement. What was the matter with me? Hadn’t I learned anything from Memaw? Sure I had. Family was everything. And what was left of mine accepted me. They wanted something to do with me. I let out a cackle.
My cellphone dinged. It was Mysti reminding me we had an appointment. I got in my own hurry.
2
AN HOUR LATER, I stood in a strange kid’s bedroom, shocked that Griffin Reed, my boss, had allowed a teenage boy to hire us. This damn kid should have been in school.
I wrinkled my nose against the smell of dirty socks and glanced at Mysti Whitebyrd, my friend and mentor. She held a lace hanky to her face. Griff frowned at me, silently asking what my problem was. I shook my head and turned my attention back to the pimple-faced teenager whose socks smelled like Satan’s foot cheese.
“We moved here last year. Soon as I told my friends, they were all telling me how my house would probably be haunted.” His name was Travis, and he spoke directly to my tits, gaze sometimes wandering to the tattoos on my arms or the heavy silver rings on my fingers. I wanted to snap my fingers at the kid and point at my eyes. Griff would have my ass if I did.
“Why’s that?” I dipped my head, trying to make eye contact. My skin crawled from his staring. I knew teenage boys had to learn how to act decent in public like the rest of us, but this one needed special training. Like a quick shot of my cowboy boot to his nuts.
“Back in olden times, like plantations and slaves times, a whole bunch of murders took place right near here. Like a serial killer. You know?” The kid stopped staring at my chest long enough to check my face, make sure I was following. I nodded.
“Do you think that has anything to do with what you’re experiencing now?” Griff wandered around the room, frowning at the filth.
“Not at first, no. Sure, I saw a few weird things out in the woods, like signs of people maybe devil worshipping.” Because anything unfamiliar is always devil worship. “But then I met Neecie and things got out of control.” Travis extended one grubby finger to the tattoo peeking out of my shirt’s neckline. “Hey, is that real?”
“Don’t touch me.” I pushed his hand away. Travis dropped his gaze back to my tits. “Let’s just stick to what you’ve experienced. Who’s Neecie, and how did the two of you make things worse?”
“Neecie’s, like, older.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “She’s got her own place and everything. We met at Dragon’s Daze. She ignored me until she found out where I live.”
“And then?” Mysti came to stand beside me, arms crossed protectively over her bosom. She cocked her head and watched Travis.
“She came over one weekend my parents were gone, stayed all weekend, if you know what I mean.” He glanced at my face to make sure I was listening. I gave him a weak smile, wondering what kind of grown woman would fool around with this little weenie. “We had a séance with an Ouija board.”
Griff winced. “Not a great thing to do.”
“We didn’t make contact with any spirits, but the next week, in the middle of the night, I saw the carriage.” Gooseflesh rose on his smooth arms, and he gave them a vigorous rub.
Jadine’s talk about her vision rushed to the forefront of my mind. “What a minute. A carriage? Like with horses?”
“It came every night. It would just stop at the curb of the house, and the door would open.” This time Travis stared straight into my face.
Jadine said her visions were sometimes symbolic, but the carriage must have been real. Why would I get into a ghost carriage? Maybe the message was for Travis. He began talking again before I could pass it on.
“You remember what I was telling you about the serial killer from the olden days?” Travis glanced at Mysti and Griff, including them. “People from around here call him the Coachman. Legend goes the Coachman went around in a carriage trolling for people to kill. Kids. Legend says if you get in the Coachman’s carriage, you’ll never come back.”
A chill crept up my back. Something was off here. I’d felt the presence as soon as I got out of Griff’s SUV. It hung over the neighborhood like toxic smog. Having Travis’s story entwine with Jadine’s vision spooked me even worse. “You stayed away from the carriage, didn’t you?”
“Well…” Travis’s gaze slid off my boobs and to the matted, beige carpet. “I think I did. But this one night, I dreamed I went down to the door and opened it, and there was this man there. Dressed, you know, like olden times.”
Olden times, indeed. I tried not to shake my head and almost made it.
“Night after that, I heard the voice. It came from my closet. It said, ‘Traviiiiiiis.’” He lowered his voice to a growl. “Then there was, like, this chuckle. The next day, Ash Mettlin disappeared.”
“And you think that had something to do with the haunting?” Mysti glanced at me, disbelief clear on her face.
“What if Ash got into the carriage? She was a few years younger than me.” Travis hun
ched his shoulders.
A dark shadow passed by Travis’s bedroom door. Something was in this house, something nastier than what I’d felt outside. I let my consciousness sink deep until it found Priscilla Herrera’s mantle, the gasoline behind my magical power. It sent prickles all over my body. The black opal heated to nearly unbearable levels, and my vision changed. It sharpened to the point that things vibrated. Something brushed against my consciousness and sent a shiver down my back.
The spirit entered the room and perched in one corner. The translucent man wore the clothes Travis had described as “olden.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me.
Brad, Mysti’s brother and another employee of Griff’s private investigations business, stepped into the room, his face pale and shiny with sweat. Mysti raised her eyebrows in silent question. He nodded and wiped at the back of his neck. The initial cleansing of the outer rooms was done. No wonder the ghost came in here.
Mysti nodded at me. "Time to start this rodeo.”
“Has the spirit tried to make any further contact with you?” I knelt on the floor, unzipped the backpack holding my spelling supplies, and dug in it without looking at Travis. Maybe he’d come close to the truth without me staring at him.
“Sometimes there’s a dark shadow behind me in the mirror.” Travis knelt next to me and peered into my backpack. “And I have nightmares. Awful nightmares.” He reached for something in my backpack, and I slapped his hand.
I took out what I’d need for the banishment spell. Salt. Sage. White candles. My athame. I glanced at Mysti. “You doing this with me?”
She shook her head, smiling a little. “I’m assisting today.” Brad picked up the candles and began placing them in a circle around me. Travis tried to leave the circle, and Brad stopped him. “You invited the spirit here. You’re going to have to tell it you want it gone.”
“But I didn’t think…I mean, isn’t this stuff sort of risky?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Griff rolled his head back until it touched his shoulders. “You had a séance with a hot, older woman in here, and now you’re too chicken to undo the damage?”
I snorted and stopped Brad’s progress with the candles long enough to roll up the rug covering the wood floor. Brad nodded his approval, picked up the candles, and began walking his sunwise circle again.
“What’re you doing?” Travis’s eyes bugged out. Made him look like a frog, if frogs had zits.
“Making a circle,” I snapped. “Which I wouldn’t have to do if you hadn’t had a funky monkey sex séance with Neecie. By the way, did she offer to help you clean up this mess?”
“She quit answering my calls.” Travis’s face flamed.
“Figures.” I closed my eyes and reached for the mantle. The familiar buzz filled me, but it felt thin. I drew back, puzzled. The mantle had never let me down before. It always provided enough magic to achieve my means. I pulled at the power, reached for more. It didn’t come. All I had was what I had. It would have to work. I took a deep breath and let the power bloom inside me.
Everything came to life. The slight humidity in the small room felt big as drops of rain on my skin. The wood beneath my feet sent earth magic, leftover from when it was part of a tree, through the bones of my feet. Even the flames from the candles sent off little sparks of magic. A slight breeze crept over my skin. Brad finished lighting candles and came to stand next to me.
“The elements are here,” I breathed. “Are you ready?”
“Y-y-yes.” Brad’s breath came in near pants. The thrum of his heart in his chest was as clear to my ears as the gentle winter sunlight streaming in through the window.
I pulled the earth magic into me. The room hazed over with a greenish cast. Athame in hand, I walked to the first candle and began my chant.
“Elements of wind, fire, earth, and water
I, of the ancient blood, gather your power
I maiden, mother, and crone—all and none—circle around
Seeking blessings and protection, on this sacred ground
Circle of light
Dance of the moon
Burn white and bright
Protect all living souls in this room.”
I stopped where I’d started and raised my arms over my head. The tide of power rose in me, surging through. The candles burned harder, hissing and popping. Travis mumbled something, and Brad told him to shut up.
“Spirits in this house, I call you to me.” The closet door blasted open and slammed against the wall. The bed shook. The radio came on and blared some stupid sounding crap. The flat screen TV flicked on, a shadow standing in the static. Travis screamed like a girl. I ignored his outburst and spoke to him in a firm voice. “Travis, you have to tell it to go. Tell it there’s a better place waiting for it. Tell it to trust me.”
“S-s-spirits, you can’t stay. Trust this lady to send you to a better place.” Travis’s voice cracked and went up several octaves. I glanced at him to find him at the edge of the circle. Brad had a death grip on his arm.
“You go out, you lose the protection we have here.” Brad strained against the younger man’s terror.
“Spirits, go back the way you came to find peace.” Wind kicked up. Papers flew around the room. Books slid across the floor. The spirit still hovered in the corner of the ceiling, as though it was waiting for something. Tiredness crept through my body, an ache in my bones. I wiped sweat off my forehead and glanced at the door. Mysti and Griff stood there holding bundles of sage. Mysti raised her eyebrows at me.
I gathered the last of my energy and grabbed at the spirit. We met, and his wrongness, the sliminess of his evil, settled over me. I siphoned more magic and felt it run out. Fear chilled my blood. I tried again and got nothing more than a weak flutter of energy. No. How can this be? I concentrated so hard I shook. The mantle’s energy hovered just out of my reach. To hell with it. I’d just have to keep fighting. I grabbed a handful of salt and tossed it at the spot in the corner of the room. “By the powers of earth, air, wind, and fire, I command you to leave this room. You cannot be invited back by anybody but me.”
A rending sound filled the room. Pressure whined in my ears. I tossed another handful of salt at the spirit, so weak I could barely lift my arm. I had to end this thing. “Go now.” I pulled on the power of the mantle and got nothing.
Next to me Travis began to laugh. It started out as snorts and snickers but evolved into booming chuckles. The boy turned to me, eyes gone wild and insane. Fear beat its wings inside me, desperate to escape the thing I’d foolishly invited into my circle. The spirit rushed out of Travis and at me, dark and formless, the only identifiable feature a mouth yawning open, ready to eat me up in one gulp.
I tried to gather my strength, to repel it, but I was too weak and tired. It hit me like a hammer between the eyes.
DARKNESS SPREAD OVER MY VISION, pulling me down deep, into the part of myself where I never went, to the dark places I kept bottled up and hidden. I hit bottom and opened my eyes.
A sea of curious yet impassive faces hovered, staring down at me. I heard their voices but didn’t understand a one of their words. They could have been speaking a foreign language. Their white coats blended with the light and the smell of sterility and pain. Desperate sweat broke out all over my body.
“You’ve got to calm down, Peri Jean,” said the woman with her hair drawn into such a tight bun it elongated her eyes. “We can’t help you if you can’t quit screaming.”
“I want my momma. I want someone to call my momma.” My voice, high and childish, pushed a tide adrenaline through me. A wild horse of fear strained in my chest. This was wrong, all of it wrong. I already did this. I already lived through this. Why am I here again?
“We’re going to have to sedate you if you can’t calm down.” The man had a tuft of gray hair sticking out of the collar of his shirt. His face, square and plain, leaned toward me. He attempted a smile, but his eyes flashed with something else. Impatience? Anger?
>
I opened my mouth to explain I didn’t belong here, to tell them I was an adult, I knew the law, and they couldn’t hold me. Instead the childish voice came out. “Momma! Help me! Please come get me. I’ll be a good girl this time.”
A dark figure rose behind the doctors, the features of the ghost from Travis’s room slowly taking form. He straightened the ascot at the neck of his bright white shirt and parted the shining white sea of lab coats to lean over me. His breath smelled like rotting leaves and dead flowers.
“Your mother isn’t coming. Nobody is. You’re not worth it.” A syringe appeared between his thick fingers, its needle sharp and long, a drop of clear liquid clinging to its tip.
I tried to wrench control of my mind back from this ghost. He shouldn’t have been able to manipulate me like this. But he pushed the needle toward me, and I lost it screaming, “No, no, no.” The shot they gave me at the mental hospital had made me float. The ghosts of the place had hovered over me, jeering into my face. “Not again, no.”
The needle plunged into my arm with a sharp sting, and I drifted away and floated down a hallway of nightmare images, distorted and wavering and dizzying, their pull magnetic.
Through a doorway with a cracked and tilted frame, my mother slit my father’s throat, her eyes glittering with venomous hate. He fell to his knees, hands uselessly pressing against the gaping wound. He turned his head in my direction and stared at me, his eyes gone black and pupil-less. I clapped my hand over my mouth and ran.
Through another doorway, the body of my cousin Rae lay spread out and used up on a camper table, her eyes glazed and still. She jumped and blinked, then rolled her eyes to stare at me. Her dry, cracked lips moved, and her voice sounded like something moving in a grave. “They’ll get you in the end, cousin. Might as well give up now. Just close your eyes and give up.” She smiled, and her teeth were smeared with blood. I screamed and ran into the next horror.
A long empty hallway appeared before me. Red and white streamers, the Gaslight City school colors, waved from the walls. Distant music made its way to me. I recognized the song from my senior prom.