by Stuart Jaffe
“This doesn’t make sense. We hit a tree. Not even a big one. We weren’t going that fast.”
“Please, Max. You’ve got to pay attention. If you don’t move on, you’ll be here all the time. You understand? You’ll be stuck. And, honey, you’ll be haunting me. Is that what you want? To haunt your wife?”
“I’m not dead. I don’t feel dead.”
Drummond said, “How’s that supposed to feel? Listen to your wife. She’s right. I can touch you without hurting you or myself. You know what that means.”
Pointing to Drummond’s pocket, Max said, “Is Leed in there?” When alive, Leed had been a witch hunter and an expert in the occult. His horrible death resulted in his soul becoming a glowing blob, and Drummond let Leed reside in his pocket — at least, that was all Max had ever seen of the man.
“Leed’s always with me.”
“Well, if I’m dead how come I can’t hear him or see him?”
“You can’t hear him because he ain’t talkin’ right now. He’s not like a full ghost. It takes a lot for him to partake in the mortal world. More and more lately. He hasn’t talked in a few days, even to me. But you want to see him? Sure.”
Drummond scooped his hand into his pocket, pulled it out, and opened his palm up.
Max grinned. “I don’t see anything. He’s not there.”
“That’s odd. You should be able to see him.”
Max stomped around the room. “Get a doctor in here. Get somebody to examine me.” He stopped short and looked across the bed while avoiding looking at himself. “There. That machine is beeping. Isn’t that my heart?”
Sandra looked at the heart monitor. Wiping her eyes, she nodded. “That’s strange. I mean, you’ve been in a coma for three days. When I saw you as a ghost, I assumed you had died while I was getting coffee. I didn’t even notice.” A smile crept onto her lips. “Honey, it’s beeping. Your heart is still beeping.”
She dropped to the bed and hugged him. Max stepped beside her. “I know that’s my body and all, but I’m really over here.”
“I can’t hug you that way.” Her smile drifted into a frown. “Why are you that way? You shouldn’t be a ghost unless you died.”
“I don’t know. Drummond?”
The detective shrugged. “Never seen anything like this.”
Max lifted his hand, noticing for the first time that he could see through it. It felt real. He waved it around and he could feel the air shift along his skin. Yet it had to be some kind of illusion like a phantom leg. Except I’m the phantom.
Drummond floated toward the ceiling as he thought. Max wondered if he, too, could float but decided against trying just yet. Sandra would not appreciate the image. Drummond snapped his fingers. “Maybe something happened to you during the accident.”
That brought Max’s thoughts back into focus. “That wasn’t an accident.”
Sandra said, “I know that guy rammed us, but it seemed more like road rage than anything deliberate.”
“I saw him when he pulled up next to us. I saw his face. I’m telling you, we were targeted.”
“Honey, don’t start looking for trouble.”
“I’m not, but it’s coming for us.”
“Everything’s been quiet. We’re not even on a case.”
“Just because things have been quiet lately doesn’t mean our enemies have given up. Tucker Hull is out there, and you know he wants to hurt us.”
Drummond said, “I’m afraid he’s right, doll. You both know how serious the Hull family can be. I suspect this was meant to be a warning shot over the bow, but it went a bit further than they had planned. Now that you’re awake, you should expect to be hearing from Hull soon. Probably through our old pal, Mr. Modesto.”
Sandra wrinkled her nose. “I’d be fine with never seeing that man again. Ever.”
“It’s strange, though,” Max said. “Why a warning shot at all? We’ve been at odds with them for a few years, now. There’s no need to warn us. We know Tucker wants us gone.”
Drummond said, “Then what? You think he really tried to kill you in such a clumsy way? I don’t believe that. When he actually wants to kill you both, he’ll do it with magic.”
“I don’t know. But since we don’t have a case, at least this is the only thing we’ll have to focus on.”
The room door opened. “Perhaps I can help,” an elderly woman said as she entered. Max felt a lump sink into his gut. He knew this woman, this witch, and all the problems she brought with her — Mother Hope.
Drummond shook his head at Max. “You had to say something.”
Chapter 3
Mother Hope walked to one of two chairs set under the flatscreen television. She wore enough scarves and jangling jewelry to fill a costume shop or play the part of cliché gypsy #2 in a bad horror movie. She moved her small, hunched body in short steps, each motion implying frailty and weakness. All of it was a lie. Max knew this woman had great power within her — not just her abilities with spells, but also as the leader of the Magi Group, a secret organization devoted to combating families like the Hulls from abusing magic.
Behind her, a large black man stood with a slight bend. Leon Moore. Though he worked as a librarian at Wake Forest University, his position in the Magi Group had caused Max plenty of trouble — usually under the guise of attempting to help.
Mother Hope made a vague hand gesture. “Wait out in the hall. Us ladies need to chat.”
Leon bowed his head a fraction before walking out. As Mother Hope settled in a chair, Max pointed at her and said, “I’ve got no use for you. Get the hell out of here.”
Mother Hope did not react. Drummond said, “You’re a ghost now. She can’t hear or see you.”
“My wife can. Hon, translate for me.”
Sandra crossed her arms and leveled a stern look at Mother Hope. “In case you’re planning on something violent, you should know that we’re not alone in here.”
The old woman glanced around the room. “Oh, I know that. Is Marshall Drummond here as well?”
“He is.”
“Good. Then you all can hear what I have to say.”
Sandra raised a hand to stop Max and Drummond from talking. “Make it fast. I doubt they have much patience at the moment. I know I don’t.”
“Mrs. Porter, you and I have not had many chances to talk. Most of my dealings have been with your husband. So, I will assume you are unaware of how to behave around me, and that is the reason for your unacceptable attitude.” Before Sandra could snap off a quick-witted rebuttal, Mother Hope said, “I arranged for your car accident as well as your husband’s current predicament. If you continue to be rude and unmannerly towards me, you’ll find that I can end Max’s life as easily as I have suspended it.”
Though her jaw remained clenched, Sandra forced a smile and sat in the other chair. “In that case, I imagine there’s a reason behind all this, and that you are here for more than gloating.”
“Much more.”
Max paced the room. “Don’t trust a thing she says.”
Drummond settled back against the wall and snickered. “Do you honestly think your wife needs advice from you on how to handle Mother Hope? I mean look at the evidence — you’re the one who’s dead.”
As she spoke, Mother Hope shuffled over to Max’s body. “I do hope you weren’t hurt in the accident.”
“No,” Sandra said. “My husband saw to that. He loves me very much.”
“Damn right I do,” Max said, still pacing.
Mother Hope raised an eyebrow. “We arranged for your accident so that Max would be put in a hospital. I needed access to his body, and I didn’t think that would happen without him being unconscious.”
“What did you do to him?” Sandra asked.
“Of course, we could have grabbed him off the street or broke into your home and took him, but those actions would have most likely brought the police into the situation. Having them poking about a criminal investigation was unacceptable. The Hull
family has too many connections there. More than us. This way, it was an unfortunate accident. The police filled out a few reports, and that was that.”
“Answer me — what did you do to my husband?”
“I cursed him, of course.” Mother Hope pulled back Max’s hospital gown. When she passed her hand over the right side of his chest, a faint circle with small markings glowed red like a brand.
As the mark grew brighter, Max felt a sting in his chest that quickly become a harsh burn.
“Stop it,” Sandra said, her eyes on Max as he clutched his ghostly chest.
Mother Hope covered the body back up and returned to her chair. “This is your fault — all of you. Your little trio has been meddling in the Hull situation for too long. It’s hastened events that we thought we had taken care of and forced us to act faster than we intended.” Squinting at Sandra, she went on, “The situation is coming to a head, and if the world is ever to be rid of the Hull family, now is the time to strike.”
“I’ll show you a strike,” Max said and charged forward. He pulled back a fist and punched at Mother Hope’s chest. Two feet ahead of her, his fist slammed into a hard wall of pain. Electricity jangled up his arm and forced his mouth shut, his teeth gnashing into each other. He flailed backward into Drummond’s arms.
“Easy there,” Drummond said, setting Max back on his feet. “You’ll never be able to hit her like that.”
Mother Hope tapped one of the amulets around her neck. “Well, well. It feels as if your husband now knows what it’s like to come in contact with a protection ward.”
“You okay, hon?” Sandra asked.
Max rubbed his sore hand. “No. None of this is okay.”
Sandra turned back to Mother Hope. “You are wasting our time and annoying us. You’ve cursed my husband. Why? What does it do?”
“If we are to defeat the Hulls, not just set them back but defeat them, then we have no choice but to go for the head. We were planning on taking out Terrance Hull once he truly took over the business, but you three started helping them acquire the necessary items to resurrect Tucker Hull.”
Mother Hope paused. After a few seconds, Sandra said, “If you’re waiting for me to apologize, I won’t. We were trying to survive our own troubles. Finding those objects for the Hulls meant we continued to live.”
“Maybe so. Maybe you would have lived a better life had you not cooperated with that family. Still, here we are. Thanks to you, Tucker has returned. But Tucker cannot be defeated in any conventional manner. He is a being both dead and alive. He exists in both realms, and thus must be defeated in both realms in order to truly be destroyed.”
“You cursed Max, so he would fight Tucker in the afterlife?”
Mother Hope snarled. “I cursed Max because he deserved it.” Sandra jumped at the woman’s fierceness. Then, in a calmer voice, Mother Hope said, “I do not need nor do I want your husband to fight Tucker Hull. Even if he was willing, he would be no match. But he does need to serve a purpose.
“After many months of searching, I have uncovered a rare spell that I believe will solve our Tucker Hull problem. The spell requires casting by powerful witches in both realms — the living and the dead. Both witches must also be connected in some way with the target. The stronger the connection the better.
“Now, the living realm is an easy matter. I have a strong connection of hatred towards all the Hulls, and I am a powerful witch. But I need a witch on the other side as well. One who is capable of casting the spell and has an equal hatred for Tucker that she would be willing to do it. There’s only one who fits that description.”
Max halted his pacing. His arms dropped. “You have got to be kidding.”
“Your husband will use his great skill in uncovering people and information, and he will find the Hull family’s former witch-on-retainer, Dr. Ashley Connor.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Max looked to Drummond. “This is nuts.”
Drummond pursed his lips, then shook his head. “What can you do? You’re cursed, right?”
Sandra nodded. “This curse — you’ll remove it after he finds Dr. Connor?”
“Of course, dear,” Mother Hope said. “The curse keeps him in this state of living and dead. The rest of his body, other than a few bruises, appears to be healthy and fine. Once the curse is removed, he’ll wake from his coma and you both can go about your lives knowing that the Hulls will never be a problem for you again.”
“But why Dr. Connor? Surely, the Magi Group has plenty of powerful witches that are dead and available.”
“Not so. We move on when we die.”
Drummond said, “And Dr. Connor was murdered by the Hulls. An angry, murdered witch won’t be moving on anytime soon. She’ll be around here somewhere.”
“To be perfectly clear, though,” Mother Hope continued, “your husband has defied me and caused me many problems. If not for the fact that his goals aligned with mine, I would have seen him hurt long ago. As it stands, consider this a punishment. And what better punishment than to force him to work with a witch he abhors?”
Max clenched his fists. “Hon, please slap that old woman for me.”
Sandra suppressed a smile. “I don’t think Max is feeling too cooperative at the moment.”
Again, the fierce side of Mother Hope erupted. “Well, he better change his mind. Because when I remove the curse, I can just as easily send him to the realm of death as I can the living. And nobody will believe he was murdered by magic. In fact, considering the usual outcome for coma patients, nobody will bother to look into it at all. Just another unfortunate tragedy due to drunk driving. You were returning from a party the night of your accident, right?”
Max saw Sandra’s fingers tense, and he thought she really would slap the old witch. Instead, she put out her hand. “I think we understand the situation quite well. You can trust we’ll do everything possible to find Dr. Connor for you.”
Mother Hope took Sandra’s hand and gave it a light motion. “I have no doubts.”
“We’d like some privacy now. We’ll report the moment we learn of anything.”
“No need.” Mother Hope stood and brushed her backside while her numerous bracelets clanged against each other. She then walked to the door and gave it a single knock. “I have my own people for that purpose.”
Before the door had fully opened, Max heard the click-clack of sharp, high heels. A petite, blond doctor entered. Her hair had been pulled back into a bun so tight it stretched her skin. Max would never forget the sound of that woman’s heels when she had demolished his office computers while Mother Hope watched and warned. Though small like Mother Hope, the high-heeled woman was equally dangerous.
Mother Hope pushed the door closed. “I believe you know Dr. Fremont.”
“Yes,” Sandra growled.
“I’ve seen to it that she has been assigned to this floor of the hospital. Max will be one of her patients. She’s a well-respected and capable doctor, and as long as you do what you are supposed to do, she will take good care of Max.”
“But should we do anything you don’t like, you’ll kill him.”
Mother Hope winced at Sandra’s words. “Murder is not an easy thing, and death is not a judgment I will easily pass upon another. Even Tucker Hull’s second death, which I pray will be soon, is not something we take lightly. It would be with a heavy heart that I would have to fulfill any threat to Max. But then, all leaders must learn to live with a heavy heart. So, yes, comply with my plans, and you’ll not only save your husband’s life, but you will also destroy your enemy.” To Dr. Fremont, Mother Hope said, “Take care of these people, and report everything they say and do to me.”
Gazing once across the room, Mother Hope made an odd noise in her throat like a creaking ship before leaving. Dr. Fremont followed her out.
The moment the door closed, Sandra rushed over to Max’s body and checked his chest. No sign of the cursed mark could be seen. “Are you okay? Do you feel strange or anything?”
Despite his anger, Max laughed. “You mean other than being a ghost?”
Sandra’s shoulders drooped. “Yeah, other than that.” She pressed the palm of her hand against her eyes. “What are we going to do? This is nuts.”
“No more than usual.”
Drummond adjusted his hat and slid closer. “I’ve got to side with Max on this one, doll. We can handle this just fine. We’ve been through this kind of thing before.”
“No,” Sandra said. “We’ve never been through something like this. Witches, ghosts, curses — sure. That’s nothing new. But Max being cursed into this half-alive, half-dead state. That is not business as usual.”
“I know, hon.” Max reached out to comfort her, but she pulled away.
“I don’t think the deep-bone chill of a ghost touch is what I need right now.”
Drummond brought his hands together in one loud clap. “Before you two work yourselves into a fight or something worse like a bunch of mushy love talk, we’ve got a witch to go find.”
“Yeah,” said Max. “And considering that she hates us, it won’t be easy.”
Chapter 4
Max, Sandra, and Drummond spent an hour discussing the situation. Most of their talk resulted in grumbling and sharp barbs of wit tossed in the direction of Mother Hope. But eventually, they settled onto a clear path — Drummond was to find Dr. Connor by searching the Other, the ghost-only plane of existence that resided between the corporeal realm and that of those who had moved on; Sandra was to dig up all she could find on Max’s curse and the possible ways to free him that did not result in his death. Max also asked if Sandra had notified his mother of what had happened.
“No,” she said. “I know I should, but when I do tell her, she’s going to hop on the first flight over. I don’t want to have to deal with her. Not right now. I figured if you die, I could deal with her then, and if you live, there’d be nothing to tell.”
“She’s my mother.”