Brush With Death: A Sadie Salt Urban Fantasy (Sadie Salt Series)

by Ware Wilkins

  “Didn’t you? That’s why I’m here, after all.”

  Small spells. Barely worth a mention. No one was hurt by what I cast except for me and my silly stubborn refusal to believe my uncle and Benji when they said that my magic was easy to track and that anyone who caught wind of it would come swiftly and execute with no mercy.

  Except... “But you said you aren’t supposed to kill me!”

  “A job’s a job, when it pays. This job pays and the rules are to keep you alive. If it were up to me, I would have snuffed you out when I took care of the were. As it is, you’re talking too much and we need to move.”

  “Move? I don’t understand—”

  “Here,” he says, tossing my bat toward me. “Pick this up.”

  Why would he give me my weapon? Everything about this situation keeps throwing me for a loop. But if he wants me to get my bat, I’ll get my bat. I move to get it and he’s beside me so damned fast—

  There’s a crack against my skull and I’m out before there’s pain.

  It’s so quiet when I finally come to that I can practically hear the throbbing in my head. That’s how much it hurts. Splitting headache seems fitting when my fingers touch the back of my skull where I can only assume David brought the handle of his gun down. It’s tender and swollen and the horror of it makes it difficult to breathe. A choked sob escapes.

  “Sadie?” It’s Abe. His voice sounds as rough as I feel, but the connection of hearing someone familiar and then realizing that meant David hadn’t killed him propels me to sitting and I open my eyes.

  Before I can find Abe, I see I’m in a cage. Thick metal bars, locked front door, the works. It’s too small for me to stand up in, so when I finally see Abe crammed in another one the same size, I feel a pang of sympathy. If someone my height can’t stand, he’s forced to stoop too much to move.

  “Hey,” I call out, startled by cracked and husky feel of my voice. How long was I out? “Are you okay?”

  The light is low, coming from old, dusty yellow lamps on walls. This looks like a storage room in a basement that someone turned into a makeshift office; there’re busted containers lining walls and an old wooden desk covered in paper coffee cups and empty takeout containers. There’s a mat that looks like it’s been used for sleeping under it.

  “Ingrid’s boyfriend broke my arms, knocked me out, and stuck me in this cage. Not my best day.” The broken arms would explain the extreme strain in his tone. Abe’s gotta be in a world of pain. “He’s kind of a weird guy and I must say, I don’t approve of Ingrid dating him.”

  The wry humor helps me smile, which in turn helps to stifle my mounting panic. If Abe can joke with two broken arms, I can stop being a baby. “Where are we?”

  “If I had to guess, the old coal processing plant. It had a building close down a few years ago, and I’m thinking David’s making use of it.”

  Not too far from Grimloch, then, but isolated. Not a good sign for us. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Longer than David thought. Long enough to hear how crazy he is. He was on the phone when transporting us and mentioned something about bone witches? And he called Benji a vampire. I mean, sometimes the guy pulls off that gothy, androgynous Anne Rice kind of thing, but he sounded like he meant it. Like, for real.”

  Biting my lip, I wrestle for a second. This situation is dire and telling Abe that David’s right seems fair. After all, he’s roped in now, for better or worse. But I’m also afraid it’ll just make him panic, which helps no one. His calm presence is a crutch for me, and if he goes bananas then I will lose it, too.

  There’s more, too. Abe’s not just my gorgeous guy crush. He’s not just the person I’ve been in love with for what feels like forever. He’s a symbol for me. The normal one, the one who meant that maybe I didn’t have to be caught up in this life forever. As soon as I tell him, it’s like he’ll be tainted. Will he lose his appeal? Will I lose the only connection I had to a dream that still felt, albeit infinitessimally, like a possibility one day?

  This train of thought shames me. God, how shallow can I be? There isn’t any hope for normal, and it isn’t fair for me to put all of that on Abe’s shoulders. Especially since he has no idea about all of the paranormal stuff or my gigantic crush. He’s just a nice guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to help me. I owe him.

  “Abe...”

  He sighs. “You’re going to tell me it’s real, then?”

  I nod. There’s a staircase behind the desk, barely visible. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Because you didn’t seem shocked when I just told you what David had said. And the way you reacted to Gina Long’s body... I knew you were hiding something. Those bites...”

  “Werewolf, I think.”

  We hear a door open and heavy thuds as someone comes down the staircase. David walks in. He’s changed his clothing into some camo pants and a black t-shirt, as well as shaved his face. Cleaned up he manages to look more dangerous than before. “Both of you are awake. Good.”

  “Why are we here?” Abe asks, trying to sound authoritative.

  David leans on the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Well you, Sheriff, are here to ensure a bonus. I’ve got a lovely client who is paying me handsomely to deliver Sadie. But she was interested in you, too.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  He tsks. “Sadie, you should know better than most. For the Sheriff’s bones, of course. And I’ll receive a nice bonus from it.” He taps his nose and I want to vomit.

  “Why does she want me alive?”

  David shrugs. “Don’t know, don’t care. I have something you might be interested in.” He opens a drawer on the desk and pulls out a large bag. Immediately my body lunges against the bars, hands grabbing like a freaking zombie for brains. The shame is what helps me get control of myself quickly, though not quickly enough. David didn’t miss my reaction and he shakes the bag enough that the sound of teeth echoes like marbles in the room. “I have to hide them from her, too.”

  “You... you don’t take the teeth for her?”

  “Hell no. They’re trophies. All hunters have them. I’d have thought your parents—” he spits the word like a disease, “would have told you that.”

  My mouth is dry. Why would they have told me that? David must catch my dumbfounded look. “Oh, God, this is too good. You knew, right? About your ‘mom’,” he jeers, using finger quotes.

  “My mother? Did you kill her?”

  His face drops. “No, you stupid bitch. She wasn’t your mom. She was, however, my sister. And you fucked up her life and mine when your dad roped her into protecting you.”

  The headache I had before pales in comparison to the wrenching, gurgling weight of his words on my chest. Like I’m being crushed by water, it’s consuming me, and it’s so black and murky I can’t see my way through. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Sadie. My sister was a hunter. We were a team, one of the best. But I got sidelined by a nasty fight with an incubus and his pet Raiju and she was assigned to track your family alone. But your father,” he sneers, “did some kind of magic on her and she fell in ‘love.’” Again with the finger quotes. “When she wouldn’t kill you, the Hunter’s Guild declared her and all her kin, i.e. me—anathema. She betrayed me, the Guild, fucking all of humanity, for you. No, I didn’t kill her, but one of my former comrades did, and I didn’t mourn. I mourned her the day she chose animals over her own kind.”

  Wet drips onto my hands and I press my palms to my face. Tears. “You lie.”

  “Please,” he rolls his eyes. “You’re a bone witch, same as your mother. Your real mother. It’s passed down matrilineally, see. I had to test you, with the wolf, to see if you were really the one they seek. And you used the magic, just like that. So fucking gullible. But then the wolves and that stupid vampire got in the way. I’m a good hunter, but I’m not dumb. So I tried to turn this one—” he nods to Abe, “and the wolves against you. Easiest way to d
o that was the girlfriend.” He walks over and pats Abe’s cage. “Kill the girl. Move the body for the police, add the note to the backpack, leave the evidence for the wolves. Then I only had to worry about a vamp.”

  “You killed Gina,” Abe pipes in. His eyes are dark with rage and while his arms hang by his side, his fists are clenched. I can only imagine the pain that causes. “She was just a girl!”

  “She was a wolf fucker,” David spits back. “Barely better than the animals they screw. Don’t feel bad for her.”

  “But you’re a wolf! Or working with one!” I accuse, glad for the diversion from my mother. Or my not-mother. Or my bone witch mother? It doesn’t matter, it just matters that I can latch onto something unrelated to my, well, relations.

  His face twists into ugly hate. “What? No. One hundred percent human.”

  “But Gina had the bite marks on her—”

  “Oh, right.” Understanding dawns on him. “That’s a hunter trick.” He reaches into a duffel bag beside the desk and pulls out what looks like a dental model filled with teeth. It’s shaped like a werewolf’s snout. He opens and shows how it’s spring-loaded; it snaps down with considerable force. “We use this to out the other wolves so we can pick them off one by one. Your friend’s teeth helped re-fit this one. It was fitting he helped kill his girl.” He pats the model snout.

  A wave of nausea slams into me and I crawl to the corner of my cage and dry heave. David’s hard laughter accompanies the retching. “You’ll have to sit with that, I’m afraid. No getting out, not even for clean up.”

  Abe speaks because I can’t, I’m fighting the roiling violence in my guts. “If you aren’t a hunter anymore, why the tricks? Why the trophies?” He’s picking up what’s happening with a speed that would be admirable if we weren’t both in cages.

  “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  “And why are you doing this?”

  “People like me don’t fit in well. No ‘real life’ job skills. So I’m a mercenary, I guess.” He crosses his arms like it’s something to be proud of.

  “Hired by a witch,” I finally choke out. “I bet your sister would be real proud.” I’m not ready to admit that he might have been telling the truth about my mother, but I’m feeling spiteful now. Angry. It’s easier to work with than fear.

  “Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you. She said alive, she didn’t say what shape you had to be in.”

  He digs in the duffel again and pulls out a box. It’s wrapped in black, with a white bow. At one time it might have looked nice, but the wear and tear of being in David’s bag has marred the paper and crumpled the ribbon. “This is for you. She was adamant I give it to you before she comes to collect.” He tosses it through the handles of my cage and I catch it. I refuse to open it in front of him.

  David waits and then gets angry. “Well?”

  “Why didn’t you just open it?”

  “She said it was cursed. Only you can.”

  “And you believed her?”

  He sneers. “I may hate witches, but I know a powerful one when I meet them. She gave me that and enough of the powder to make me near fucking invincible. When she comes and gets you, I’ll get paid and then I’m getting the hell out of this small town. Too many of those freaks in one spot. I’ll drop an anonymous tip to the Guild, though. A little clean up for the good citizens of Grimloch.”

  “I won’t open it while you’re here,” I push back. “So if you’re worried it’ll help me break free, guess you’ll have to risk it. Or we never know what’s inside.”

  “Fine,” he spits. I can’t believe he caved so easily. Either the witch is scary enough he doesn’t want to cross her, or he’s genuinely not concerned with me breaking out. “Don’t get comfortable. I’m sure your ride’ll be here soon. May as well say goodbye to your boyfriend.”

  I wait until he’s clunked back upstairs and then wait a few breaths more. Abe breaks the silence. “Sadie, what the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, but steeling myself, I open the package.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It’s a book. A cute little journal, really, with a bear holding balloons on the front. Like the kind you’d give a little girl. The edges of the pages are tinged yellow, just beginning to show age. I open it with care and see beautiful, looping handwriting.

  Sadie,

  I bought this journal today. There it was, last one on the shelf, and something just moved me to get it. You’re kicking a lot these days, a fierce fighter in my belly, and I’m just so excited to meet you.

  You, my babe, are destined for greatness.

  Maybe I feel a need to write this to you because we only ever have one child. You’re my first and last, my most precious. It’s taken many spells to keep you safe inside of me. There’s so many people who don’t understand what we do, who we are... but they’ll stop at nothing to harm us.

  There will be time for that later.

  What does one say, in first words? That your father is the most delightful warlock? I met him at a solstice. We danced all night and have never stopped dancing since. When you’re born I’ll tell him the full story about you and me, about our history. He’ll understand, I’m sure of it.

  The Bone Mother has blessed me with you, and I’m terribly happy about it.

  -Your Mother

  I flip the page and see more.

  Sweet Sadie,

  What a scare we had today! While I’m exempt from most of the coven’s spells while pregnant, today was a massive exchange of power and we needed all of us. So many bones sent to our Great Mother, and in turn so many gifts. But casting took a lot out of me. One day I’ll show you the marks covering my left leg from hip to ankle and tell you ‘that’s the day I almost lost you.’

  It was another’s fault. We were breathing, in balance, but her cravings got the best of her. She broke the circle and tried to steal from our tribute. I’ve never seen Jade so angry. Breaking the circle took much more out of me than it was supposed to. It sort of... siphons life, you see? Well of course you don’t, silly me. One day you will. Oh, I have so much to teach you!

  But as I was saying, my life was being siphoned to keep the portal open, and my life is sustaining yours, my darling. If I’d have lost you...

  My fury would be a hurricane and the obliteration absolute.

  You’ll understand.

  Your Mother

  Sadie,

  I told your father today. I’d planned on waiting until you were born, but due to the unfortunate event last week, I began bleeding today. It forced my hand. I was so scared and I needed his essence to keep you safe. He gave me a tooth, enough to keep you alive and healthy. But he’s not handling what I—what we—are well. Same prejudices our kind have faced for centuries.

  Still, he’s here, and that’s the important part. You just keep growing, and hopefully he’ll listen as I explain the Bone Mother and her wondrous gifts to him.

  Mom

  Finally, the last entry. There’s so many blank pages and my heart is aching because of all the hope she must have felt, thinking she’d fill them with these notes to me. My mother, my real mother, had been excited for me. As I sit and read, I’m beginning to feel anger toward my father and the woman who raised me. Had they known how much she loved me? Why didn’t I know of her? Why didn’t Oliver tell me?

  My concept of self is being uprooted. No, demolished. Just smashed by David and this journal. It’s ripping me apart. Gritting my teeth, I read her final words to me.

  Sadie,

  I think your father is planning something. My contractions are coming stronger and you’ll be here soon. I think he wants to take you away from me. That will not happen.

  But I’m going to have to do a spell. A major one. And I only have a little skin left before I become hers completely. So here’s what you need to know, just in case, my love.

  Seek the followers of the Bone Mother. They will teach you what you are. Don’t be afraid of it and don’t try
to change it; it consumes us all.

  Don’t trust your father. He’s shown he’s incapable of understanding.

  Power is worth seeking.

  Enemies are worth punishing.

  Do all she asks of you, and those things (and so much more!) are possible.

  I’ll love you forever.

  Mommy

  “Sadie, what’s going on?” Abe’s worried and pressed against his bars, trying to see what’s happening in my cage. Shutting the journal, I cry hard until my shoulders are shaking and my abs hurt. I’ve been stupid. Terribly, enormously stupid. I’ve spent so much time trying to figure out who killed my dad and not-mom that I never stopped to think that maybe they deserved it.

  Don’t think that, Sadie. This is just half the story.

  Sniffling, I rock a bit trying to pull myself back together. Yes, it’s half a story. But damn it, it was a half I deserved to have been told about! Not only had my father taken me away from my real mother, but he and the woman I’d thought of as mother lied to me each and every day for sixteen years. They’d let me believe in our happy family unit. Threads of anger are weaving in and out off my grief. Now they’re dead and I’ll never be able to confront them. Or to know what happened to my real mother.

  “Sadie, talk to me,” Abe pleads. “We’re probably about to die in here, so I get that it’s silly, but I can’t stand to see you hurting so much.”

  I wipe my face off, getting control of myself. “What? Why?”

  “We’re friends,” he replies. “You’ve always been a good kid.”

  “We’re the same age, Abe. I’m not a kid.”

  He scowls. “I know, I know.” There’s something in how he says it that forces me to look at him. If we’re about to die, I can afford to be more daring.

  Scooting to the front of my cage, I angle my body so I can look directly at him. He’s huddled and pale, but the same all-American hair and sexy stubble are there. His shoulders are still strong beneath his uniform, his badge gleaming dully. Abraham Murray, the only man I’ve ever loved. The teenager I’d been would’ve swooned if she’d known she’d die with Abe. How tragically romantic, right? “You told me I was cute before. Do you say that to everyone?”