by Ariella Moon
A quick check of the street revealed no approaching customers. Emboldened, I spritzed the front door handle from the outside, then sprayed the inside before I locked it. The dragon pressed against me. Its fiery energy lifted my hand to the light switch and cut the power to most of the overhead lights. Menacing shadows wobbled to life in the corners of the store and glared at me. My courage threatened to flee to the nearest display table and hide beneath its purple velvet drape.
The dragon melded into me. Warmth blossomed in my solar plexus and spread upward. My chest grew toasty. My throat heated, then my face. I felt myself glow from within. My eyes watered. I squeezed them shut and hot tears trickled down my cheeks. When I opened my eyes, my visual organs seemed to have retreated within my skull. I had the odd sensation of looking through a scaly mask. My chin grew heavy and tilted toward the floor, lowering my peculiar gaze. Putrid black vapors swirled above the carpet, curling in Ayelett's wake.
No. No. No. Anxiety missiles launched inside my brain and my OCD charged into overdrive. I sprayed sage as quickly as my finger could depress the squirt pump. As each spurt rained down, the snaking vapors sizzled and vanished.
I hounded the trail of dark energy to the door of the first session room. Amber and scarlet rays angled through the crack between the door and the doorframe. A few feet down the hall, the drumming dropped to a reverent whisper.
I concentrated on the door before me and leaned in to listen. A deeper than usual version of Lucia's voice shouted commands in what sounded like Arabic. Beyond the closed door to the mystery school, the drumbeats began to build. Inside the session room, a second voice, high-pitched and not quite human or animal, screeched. Fear churned my stomach. I doubted even Lucia could vanquish whatever was in there. The thought sent a fresh wave of heebie-jeebies shivering through me.
The dragon retreated and nudged the back of my head, bumping me like a horse seeking a carrot. I raised my arm, but before I could douse the door, it whooshed open. The amber and scarlet rays telescoped back. Air hissed into my mouth in a swift, terrified gulp. Foul energy reeking of must, mold, and evil, assaulted my senses. My skin prickled. My brain screamed run. My body remained glued to the doorway.
The drummers paused, and the clang of the wolf-and-moon wind chime reached my ears. Hadn't I locked the door? The dragon melded back into me, inflaming my core. Through the scaly mask I registered three forms in the candlelit room. Ayelett lay prone on her back atop a massage table. The hem of her white dress trailed over the side. A shadowy creature with tentacle-like hands stood on top of her. Yellow pus oozed and dripped from sores on its arms and chest. It screeched at the third form — Lucia.
Well, whatever Lucia had become.
The drumming resumed, fast and frenzied. Lucia lasered her glowing red eyes on me. The demon atop Ayelett followed Lucia's gaze and locked onto me. Fear paralyzed my finger atop the liquid sage. I eyed the space between the demon and me and calculated the distance. The spray would fall far short.
The demon pivoted toward me. Its yellow, tiger-like eyes gleamed.
I lowered my arm and held the demon's gaze while I unscrewed the lid of the spray bottle. The fiend bent its knees as if readying to jump. Its sores oozed more pus. Lucia yelled more Arabic. From her tone, it sounded like she had warned the creature to stay put — or else. The demon screeched. Its hand tentacles wriggled like Medusa's snakes as it launched into the air.
My muscle memory kicked in. I pivoted and hurled the bottle as if it were a throwing star. The spray nozzle stayed on just long enough to enable the full force of the liquid sage to gush from the container as it passed through the demon's chest.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucia lunged. The fiend vanished, vaporized by the liquid sage. Lucia's powerful arms came up empty and she stumbled before catching herself.
Ayelett screamed, a sound like claws ripping into flesh, and lumbered off the massage table. The sage had passed through the demon and splashed Ayelett's white dress. She plucked the splattered fabric away from her body as if she feared the sage would melt — or purify — her. "Stupid girl! Look what you did!" she shrieked as the drumming down the hall halted.
My hands buzzed. Her words bounced off me. Jazmin performing one of her Guitar Girl song-ending jumps flashed in my head.
The dragon vanished, rocking me on my heels. Warm hands — not dragon claws — steadied me. Thor's lavender-and-sage scent encircled my body like a hug. My pulse, which had been in overdrive, zigzagged. "You okay?" he asked.
Thor's touch launched pleasant shivers in my abdomen. "Absolutely." Daggers spiked Ayelett's gaze. Lucia appeared dumbfounded. Satisfaction bloomed within me. I faced Thor. "Never been better. What are you doing here?"
"I—"
The door to the mystery school banged open. Uncle Esmun dashed toward us, followed by Aunt Terra and half a dozen confused-looking drummers. Portia was among them, holding the black tote in front of her as if it were a divining rod. Its contents — the damaged spell book, judging by the rectangular shape straining against the black nylon — whirred and clicked like a dozen cicadas emerging after a seventeen-year hibernation.
"Everyone all right?" Uncle Esmun hollered over the din.
I nodded and Uncle Esmun threw me a relieved look. His nostrils flared as he approached the doorway and inhaled the must, mold, and evil lingering beneath the sharp tang of liquid sage. Thor and I migrated out of the way.
Uncle Esmun narrowed his eyes at Lucia and Ayelett. "What be going on here?"
Ayelett released her tunic, then swayed so the wet fabric clung to her curves. Placing one hand behind her hip, she thrust out her ample chest and said, "Lucia and I were clearing the neighborhood of demons."
Uncle Esmun's gaze circled Ayelett as if he were reading her aura. His lips compressed. "Clearing, or summoning?"
Ayelett shrugged. "Same difference."
Uncle Esmun glanced over his shoulder at Aunt Terra. She arched one brow in a perfect copy of Mom's patented I-don't-think-so-missy look. Uncle Esmun's shoulders rose, then fell. "It's been a long day," he said to the assembled group. "I suggest we all go home. Drummers, great circle! Hope to see you next month."
The drummers retreated to the mystery school to gather up their stuff. Portia remained. Her gaze ping-ponged from the tote to me.
Uncle Esmun said to Lucia, "We'll talk tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
He stepped aside, prompting Lucia to leave. Ayelett followed at parade pace. When she reached us, she pinned Thor with a suggestive stare and trailed her tongue across her upper lip. Aunt Terra cleared her throat and Ayelett sashayed past.
The drummers returned. They slung backpacks over their shoulders or carried drums in front of them as they hurried past the cacophony emanating from the tote bag. Uncle Esmun brought up the rear. His easy island gait had vanished, replaced by a warrior's purposeful walk.
When the others had disappeared from view, Portia placed the tote on the carpet and unzipped it. The deafening whirring and clicking stopped. "Easy does it." Portia sounded like a horse whisperer, her tone gentle and soothing. She lifted the spell book and held it at arm's length as though it were a bomb she feared would detonate.
"Everyone hold still." She shifted the book to one arm and opened it to the first vellum page. In the dim hall, the page appeared blank.
"They're all the same," Portia said. "Some have tiny squiggles. Evie said they were Hindi. Before it morphed, the pages were filled with writing — in English. It keeps changing."
"And now the writing has vanished." Just like Sophia.
"Regrettably." Portia sighed.
"A true magical artifact." Aunt Terra shook her head. "Imagine the secrets it contains."
"Does Evie know anything about it?" I asked.
"She said a wrongful love spell almost destroyed it. It's mistrustful. It likes true love."
And people think I'm crazy.
"I'd like to try something." Portia closed the spell book and swung i
t toward Aunt Terra. The spell book remained silent. My skin prickled, and I had the oddest sensation the grimoire was assessing the group. Portia changed course and eased the grimoire toward Thor and me. I had seen similar books in museums — rare tomes, their covers constructed of frayed cloth stretched over wood.
But this one reeked of foreign spices and brimstone. How had a girl from my old middle school come to possess it?
My breath trapped in my throat. It's checking me out.
Thor clasped my hand.
The tote chirped.
I slumped against the wall and released a long breath. Thor squeezed my hand. "Sounds happy," he marveled.
"It does," Portia gushed. "But why?"
Thor threw me a sideways glance, then released my hand and shifted away. The high decibel cicada-like din resumed, startling Portia. Her arms dipped precariously and her grip loosened. Thor and I lunged and caught the spell book.
The din stopped. What felt like an electrical charge zapped my hands and buzzed up my arms. I shrieked. Thor moaned. Aunt Terra snatched the tote bag off the floor and held it open.
"Drop it!" she commanded.
We let go, and the spell book thumped into the black bag. Portia zipped it shut. "Oh my. I am so sorry! Evie warned me it could be temperamental. Thor, are you okay?"
"Think so." He made several flicking motions with his hands as though discharging a current. "Ainslie?"
"I'm fine." My elbows ached. I rubbed one arm, then the other.
Portia pulled a coiled key bracelet out of her pants pocket. "I better call Evie."
"Go." Aunt Terra handed her the tote. "Let us know what she says."
"Will do." Portia hefted the bag onto her shoulder. "Oh." She leveled her gaze at me. "Good work, kiddo. I never trusted either of those demon chasers. It's some kind of sick, self-destructive game to them. "
"Thanks."
Portia hustled off, speed-walking as if she were half her age.
Aunt Terra released a long breath. "Interesting night."
Thor flicked his hands again. "Never dull at Spiral Journeys."
"We didn't expect you back tonight," Aunt Terra said. "Did you forget something?"
Less than a hand's width separated my body from Thor's. The air between us thrummed. The warmth radiating from his body kicked up, and an earthy burst of musk overlaid his usual scent. "I dropped by to ask Ainslie something."
"Me?" I ceased rubbing my arms and stared. I loved the way his chin wasn't symmetrical. Otherwise, he would be too perfect.
"Finals end tomorrow," he said. "Want to have lunch afterward, then go for a hike in the park?"
"I'd love to!" My pulse hopscotched. The thought produced a full-on pre-Sophia's disappearance smile. Wait until I tell Jazmin!
"Can you spare her?" Thor asked Aunt Terra.
Worry lines trenched between her brows.
"I'll finish setting up the children's area in the morning," I promised.
"It's not—"
"We'll just go to Hidden Valley," Thor promised. "Nothing too long or strenuous."
"Hey! I may be skinny, but I'm not weak. Please, Aunt Terra?"
Her worried gaze slid from me to Thor. "O-o-o-kay." She drew out the word as if reluctant to say it.
"Thank you!" A date with Thor!
"Just let the rangers know where you'll be, okay?"
"Sure," Thor promised. The heat pouring off him cranked up like a giant body blush. Did I appear feeble, or was Aunt Terra afraid I'd have a panic attack in the middle of nowhere?
Thor's earlier words floated back to reassure me. You don't freak out. Not around me.
Aunt Terra said to me, "We better get going. Has anyone closed out the register?"
"Oops," I said. "Not yet. I'll go do it."
"Stay and visit. I'll buzz the front. Esmun can close out while I check messages." With a swish of her long skirt, she disappeared into the mystery school.
As soon as we were alone, Thor leaned against the wall and shook his head. Our gazes locked. "Blue lightning and starlight flashed before my eyes." His palm circled his chest.
"Me, too!"
He pivoted and leaned in until his nose nearly grazed my cheek. "We made it chirp."
"It might have been something else. We don't know for sure."
"Yes, we do." The unexpected huskiness in his voice shivered through me.
He captured a stray strand of my hair and gently tucked it behind my ear. The brush of his fingers against my skin ignited a fresh wave of bone-melting tingles. He migrated closer. My lips parted and met his in a tentative kiss.
He cupped my face. Emotion or lingering magic trembled his fingers. "I know," he said.
I slid my hand between us and flattened my palm against his chest. His heartbeat skittered against my hand. He drew me closer, and I slipped my arms around his waist. The dim hall faded away. My world became his breath, his scent, and his touch. My body tingled as if I still held the grimoire, as if Thor's lips were still pressed against mine.
A thump sounded in the mystery school. We broke apart. Thor plowed his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He nodded toward the room Ayelett and Lucia had vacated. "Were you scared?"
"Totally." My arms trembled. I hugged myself to arrest the tremors.
"You weren't kidding about the throwing stars and accuracy."
"Thanks." I pointed at the room. "I better clean up."
"Want help?"
"No, I got it. Go study so you can ace your exams tomorrow."
"Yes, Ninja Mistress. Coyote Crossroads okay for lunch?" he asked.
"The place where Morningstar works?"
"Yeah."
"Sure. I love it." My heart drum-soloed inside my chest. I hoped Thor couldn't hear it.
"Pick you up at one." He bent for another kiss. My toes curled.
"Ahem." Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun converged upon us from opposite directions. Uncle Esmun carried the cash register tray. "I be ready to leave as soon as I put this in the safe."
"Thank you, dear," Aunt Terra said. He was halfway to the office when she told us, "I forgot some files. Be right back."
"Think she's going to tell him about the spell book? And about tomorrow?" I whispered when she was out of earshot.
Worry flitted across Thor's face. "Count on it."
Chapter Twenty
December Eleven
Moon still in Aries
Tarot: The Tower (Major Arcana, #XVI)
Your beliefs will collapse around you. Look beyond yourself, and you will find the truth. Release whatever no longer serves you.
I shrank back from the grisly depiction of people falling from a burning tower. I didn't want the horrific image seared on my brain the day of my big date. I stuffed the almanac back into my handbag and checked my reflection in the office mirror. One belief has certainly collapsed around me — the belief Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun will have a spare moment to take me phone shopping.
So far, the omens had seemed stacked against me. I had been in Palm Springs for five nights. Today marked my sixth day, and the first one without perfect weather. Of course a cold front would creep in on the day I had a date in the park. Good thing I didn't believe in bad omens.
Thor picked me up in an older model silver BMW convertible. The top was up, a nod to the wintry chill. Aunt Terra had insisted we bring a mountain of extra jackets, hats, gloves, and scarves. We stowed them in the trunk.
"She must think we're going to Siberia, not up the street," I apologized as Thor lowered the lid.
"The trails can get cold and windy." Thor walked with me to the passenger's side and opened the car door for me. "Terra is looking out for us." He sighed. "But she's foiling my evil plan."
"What evil plan?" I buckled my seat belt to keep from leaping up and kissing him.
"To share my body warmth if you get cold."
"Oh." My abdomen shivered. "My parents warned me about boys like you."
"Did they?" His wavy blond hair framed
his face, and a rakish expression lit his eyes. "Funny. My parents didn't say a word about girls like you."
You mean mental cases. "They didn't need to. I'm like a train approaching an intersection. Gates go down and warning bells clang."
He angled his head. "Not my experience."
He closed the passenger door. As he walked around to the driver's side, I replayed his words in my head, savoring the meaning implied in his tone. He doesn't see me as defective. I could just imagine Jazmin's happy dance when I finally had a chance to tell her. I had to get a photo. Otherwise, she'd never believe me.
He got in and started the car. The satellite radio was set to an oldies rock station. As Thor drove the few blocks to the café, a drum solo sounded, and he tapped the steering wheel in accompaniment. It so reminded me of Jazmin's boyfriend.
"You should join the drumming circle," I said when the song finished and we had pulled into the dirt lot behind the café.
"I used to go." Regret tinged his voice, making me wonder why he had stopped attending. Thor parked the car, cut the engine, and unbuckled his seat belt. "I'm starving!" His palm circled his heart before grabbing the keys.
We opened the car doors in unison and climbed out. Our hiking boots scrunched the sand, kicking up dust as we approached the steep stairs leading down to the rear entrance. I hesitated at the top of the stairs, calculating. Left, right, left, ground. At the door, I reached beneath my leather bomber jacket and tugged my hoodie cuff over my hand to use as a germ shield.
"Allow me." Thor reached around me and opened the door.
Loud lunch chatter and yummy food smells swamped me. My stomach growled. We threaded past the table where Jett and I had sat, past the line at the counter, and ended up just inside the front door. I studied the menu painted high on the wall. "What looks good to you?" I asked.
"The Dusty Britches Platter." He pointed to the crazy-sounding listing, which included macaroni and cheese, soup, and salad. "What about you?"
The salad tempted me, but I feared the green onions would give me bad breath. "Grilled cheese," I decided out loud.