Love Charms

by Multiple

  “Excuse me,” Annie called. “Where exactly are we going? All I wanted was a mixed drink…”

  The old man stopped and took something off a hook on the wall, handing it to her. “Put this on.” It was a black robe, like his.

  “Look…” Annie frowned at the material filling her hands. “I’ve had a really weird day, and it just seems to be getting weirder. All I want—”

  “Do you seek the Black Death?” His voice seemed deeper back here. Was there an echo? Glancing back toward the door, Annie could hear the pounding sound of the music and remembered Dita’s request. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” That’s what she had said. Okay, Eric, whatever I need to do to find you.

  “I…guess so.”

  He gave her a curt nod. “Then you must come as the others, hooded and veiled. Only death knows the secret of eternal beauty.”

  Annie frowned, shrugging on the robe and pulling it together in front of her. The hood was large and fell into her eyes, and she had to push it back.

  “Follow me.” They were traveling down the corridor again. She followed when he made a sharp left and took her down a steep flight of cement stairs that turned halfway down to the right again. Great, I’m following some guy into the basement of a bar, and I’m probably going to end up on the front page of the newspaper tomorrow as the victim of some grisly axe murder.

  Annie checked her intuition and discovered that she wasn’t afraid of the old man. There was definitely something strange about all of this, but she didn’t think he was going to hurt her. The door at the bottom of the stairs led into another long, dimly lit corridor. This passageway was much wider than the one upstairs.

  She remembered Herman telling her this was once a distillery as they passed the rows of barrels lining the basement walls. When the hooded man stopped at the door and turned to her, Annie gasped and took a step back, her heart pounding. He didn’t look at her. Instead, he reached for something around his neck and pulled a skeleton key hanging on a leather thong over his head.

  He looked at her, and asked, “Who are we?”

  Stunned, Annie stared back at him, not sure what to say. He repeated the question. His tone wasn’t threatening. It was just a simple question. “Who are we?”

  She was about to say she didn’t know when she saw the characters carved over the door: Γαψρηελ.

  “The Order of Gabriel,” Annie breathed, her eyes wide. The old man gave a nod, turned, and put the key into the lock. She stumbled after him, amazed at how quickly he was walking now. The dark hood kept falling into her eyes, and she had to push it back to see where they were going. They weren’t alone down here, she was sure of it. She could hear the sounds of people talking and faint laughter. Was it an echo from upstairs? On her left was a doorway and she caught a shadowy glimpse of two figures locked together in an embrace. They were kissing—were they kissing? Are you sure?

  “What do we protect?” the old man asked, turning to face her again as they came to another locked door.

  Annie glanced over her shoulder, her head still filled with the shadowy vision of the couple. What were they doing—really?

  “What do we protect?” He repeated the question and Annie turned to him, glancing over the door. There was the symbol again, the same one Herman had tattooed on his upper arm.

  “The Order of Gabriel…” She swallowed as she met his rheumy eyes. They were sunk deep into his skull. She remembered Herman’s words, and continued. “The Order of Gabriel protected…the secret of life and death.”

  The old man gave another nod and unlocked the second door with his skeleton key. This corridor stretched longer than the last, and now Annie was sure she could hear people. There were moans of pleasure—or pain—she wasn’t sure which, coming from the rooms on either side of the hallway, and the high sound of laughter. She strained to catch a glimpse as they passed, but with her hood falling over her eyes and the pace the old man had set, she couldn’t see much. Each image was just a brief impression—a shadowy, hooded figure bending over the writhing, nude body of a woman; a man bound and gagged, hanging from the ceiling, his fingertips brushing the floor. A pulsing red glow emanated from one room along with a smell of something sickly sweet, like garlic gone sour.

  “What is the secret?” The old man turned and asked her the question, the key poised at the lock. He assumed she knew the answer, since she had known all the others. Thanks, Herman. The coincidence was too eerie and Annie shivered.

  “Death is not the end.” Annie’s words were lost as someone down the hall screamed.

  Her eyes widened as she followed the hooded figure through the door and into a small, sparse room. The light here didn’t come from dim bulbs, as in the corridor, but rather from a fire burning low in the corner of the little room. The man added wood to the stove and then turned to a cabinet that looked to Annie as if it had been carved out of ivory. It was a gleaming, bone white, and the skull and crossbones carved into the front seemed to grin at her as he used the same key to unlock it.

  Pushing his hood back off his head so he could work, the old man pulled open the black-velvet-lined cabinet. In the center, like a dull jewel, was a vial of thick, black liquid. If it weren’t encased in glass, it would have been camouflaged entirely by its dark surroundings. Annie watched as the man opened the vial to reveal an eyedropper fastened in its lid. He worked quickly, but carefully, retrieving a corked tube from several laying on one of the wooden counters. He put one drop of the viscous black fluid into the empty glass tube before corking it and putting it into his pocket. When he had replaced the vial and locked the cabinet, he turned to Annie.

  “What is that?” she asked, nodding at the tube he had slipped it into his pocket.

  “Black Death.” He opened the door, expecting her to follow, and she did, as quickly as she could. This time, she kept her hood on and didn’t look to either side as they made their way through the doors. He took her robe and hung it on a hook before they headed back up the cement stairs. The noise of the bar seemed to vibrate under her feet as they emerged into the blue, hazy light of the Styx.

  The old man didn’t speak as he filled a martini glass with something clear from a nozzle. Tonic water? Annie wondered. When he slipped the tube from his pocket and uncorked it, she thought she could smell that too-sweet odor from the basement again. In the little room downstairs, she had thought the liquid in the vial was thick and sticky, like molasses. But now it ran down the side of the tube as quick as black mercury, falling into the martini glass without leaving any residue on the side of the vial.

  “The Black Death…” Annie stared as the entire drink turned dark before her eyes.

  “Yes.” The old man held the glass out to her and gave her a nod. “You sought the secret and it was revealed to you.”

  She didn’t feel as if anything had been revealed. As a matter of fact, she was more confused than ever. Annie took the glass from him and was surprised at how cold even the stem of it was in her hand. “Well…thank you.”

  “Only death knows the secret to eternal beauty.” The voice in her ear belonged to Eric, she was sure of it, and she whirled toward it, nearly spilling the hard-won drink in her hand. There was no one there at all. She glanced back at the old man and he winked at her, moving to serve another customer.

  What does that mean? She stared into the black depths of the drink in her hand. Only death knows the secret to eternal beauty. The old man had said that to her, too, before she had put on the dark robe and hood.

  Annie stared into the glass, seeing a dark reflection of herself. There was an image shimmering there, and she recognized it as she did when looking at pictures of herself as a child. In this vision, she was an old woman, her face careworn, her smile lost in laugh lines, the familiar high cheekbones making her cheeks look slightly sunken. She was looking at her own face, years into the future, her physical beauty having faded long before.

  “You’re still beautiful.” It was Eric again, and it startl
ed her out of her vision. He wasn’t there, and yet she could have sworn the voice was real. She could almost feel the heat of his lips pressed right to her ear!

  Only death knows the secret to eternal beauty.

  Annie understood, suddenly, and the realization brought tears to her eyes. Her physical beauty would fade, over time, but the light burning in her that had caught Eric’s attention that night in the kitchen never would. He had seen her, fully, without ever even looking at her physical form. He had seen the woman inside of her, the woman she was becoming, the woman she wanted to be, the one beyond her physical body.

  I want to grow old with Eric, she thought, blinking back her tears. He’s the man I want to be with when my hair is white, when we have grandchildren coming to visit and stories to tell about the old days. The feeling was so strong in her that it was an ache, and she found herself even more determined to do whatever it took to find him again.

  Annie found Dita sitting on a soft, oversized chair, still surrounded by admirers. When Annie handed her the drink, Dita’s eyes widened slightly, but she motioned her to sit. The crowd of people moved away the moment Dita waved her hand, leaving the two of them in relative privacy.

  “Well, dear, I didn’t expect you back…so soon…” Dita sipped the drink and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “And this is exactly what I asked you for!”

  “I hope so.” Annie sank into a chair with a defeated sigh. “You have no idea what I had to do to get it. Or maybe you do. I don’t know. I’m so tired of this runaround. Do you really know where Eric is? I need to find him.”

  Dita set her glass on the little table between them and leaned toward her. “Actually, I got a call from him just a few hours ago.”

  “Oh please.” Annie rolled her eyes. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

  “He’s back in town.” Dita picked imaginary lint off the chair. Annie marveled again at how incredible she looked for being a grown man’s mother.

  “Then why wasn’t he at his place today?” Annie crossed her arms.

  Dita shrugged. “How should I know?”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Annie shook her head.

  Dita gave her a cool, grim smile. “You can believe what you like, darling. He doesn’t tell me everything. What I can do is give you the address to The Elysian Fields. He will be seeing a client there between two and four tomorrow.”

  “What in the heck is The Elysian Fields?” Annie cocked her head and frowned.

  Dita raised her eyebrows at her and then winked. “It’s a mystery school.”

  “A…what?” Annie asked, shaking her head as if to clear it. Eric’s mother looked as if she were enjoying Annie’s suspense.

  Dita crossed one knee over the other. “I guess the best way to describe it…it’s a kind of new age school, for people like intuitives and psychics.”

  Annie put her head in her hands for a moment. It was beginning to hurt. “You’re sure he’s going to be there?”

  “It’s what he told me,” she replied with that one-shoulder shrug.

  Resigned, Annie said, “Okay, give me the number.”

  Dita bit her lip and then sighed. “They don’t have phones.”

  Annie laughed, incredulous. “Oh, come on!”

  “It’s true!” she protested. “Something about vibrations? They have a lot of…alternative ideas. But I can give you the address. It’s about an hour’s drive out of town.”

  Annie sat still for a moment, pondering. “What the hell. Why not? This couldn’t get any stranger. Give me the address.”

  Dita reached into her purse and pulled out a black book. She flipped the pages and Annie watched as she wrote an address in large, looping letters on a slip of paper before handing it to her.

  “Thanks.” Annie stood. “Enjoy your honey…and your drink. Virgil and that old guy were both quite an experience.”

  Dita caught Annie’s arm as she passed. “Would you mind doing me another favor?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Annie sighed. “What? What could you possibly want now?”

  Dita’s smile was kind and Annie felt herself relenting. “Can you pick up something for me while you’re there?”

  “Is it anything illegal?”

  “Goodness, no!” Her laugh was like silver crystals falling. “It’s just a beauty cream. Inquire at the office and ask for Kora. She’s holding it for me.”

  “I guess I could,” Annie replied, feeling gently bullied again, but not knowing how to refuse.

  “Thank you, dear.” Dita stood and leaned over, surprising Annie by giving her a brief kiss on the cheek and leaving behind the smell of lavender and roses. It should have been a kind act, but Annie fought the urge to wipe at the spot. As Annie tucked the slip of paper into her purse, she headed down the metal staircase and heard Dita call out that odd parting phrase again, “Good luck!”

  *

  This is crazy. Annie made her way down the steep, narrow steps into the darkness, feeling her way. The only light in the stairwell flickered on above her head for a brief hopeful moment and then went out again. Dita had been right. It took her an hour to find the place, but it wasn’t in the country like she’d assumed it would be. It was in the middle of a place that looked like a small version of Chinatown—complete with signs in strange languages. She found the brick building next to an open marketplace selling everything from candles to crystals.

  Her feet hurt. She had to park two blocks away and walk in heels. A block or so before she found the building, she had seen two boys sitting on the sidewalk playing some sort of game. Annie recognized it as she passed. Pick-Up Sticks. She stood for a moment and watched them. Kids still play that game? She was surprised they weren’t inside playing video games. When Annie stepped over the flood of their sticks, they just looked up at her and smiled.

  Edging her way down into the darkness, she felt dizzy and nauseous. She reached into her jacket pocket, remembering she still had the honey cake Virgil had given her the day before. She broke off a small piece. The taste surprised her. It was like honeyed coffee— rich and thick.

  How far down does this go? She peered into the darkness and couldn’t see anything.

  Behind her, she could see the faint glow of daylight, where she had passed a bar called The Boatman and had met a grizzled old panhandler sprawled at the entrance marked “The Elysian Fields” in scrolling letters. Annie frowned, still shaking off that half-creepy, half-sad feeling she got whenever she met the homeless.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he had asked, his voice rasping through what was left of his teeth.

  “You’re gonna give me a penny for my thoughts?” Annie had smiled in spite of herself.

  “You give me a penny,” he had corrected. “And I’ll tell you your thoughts.”

  She had given him a penny, but had hurried past him before he could speak again. Maybe she didn’t want to know what she was thinking.

  Annie couldn’t resist another small bite of the honey cake as she moved down the stairwell. The stairs ended and a deep red light at the bottom illuminated a sign indicating that the store was to the right and classes to the left. The woman in the office upstairs had said she could find Kora in the store, so Annie turned right. At least the passageway was lit, even if it was with hazy red lights.

  As she neared the end of the hallway, Annie was paralyzed by a deep growl in the darkness ahead of her. The sound came closer and she took a step back, her hand reaching out to steady herself against the cinderblock wall. A large black dog came into view under one of the red lights. Annie gasped, stepping further back.

  “Kirby!” The faint voice came from somewhere on the other side of the wall.

  The dog turned its head in the direction of the voice and whined. Annie thought the dog might be friendlier now, having been admonished, and reached a tentative hand out, but the dog growled again, baring its teeth. She straightened, putting her hands in her pockets and considered the stairway behind her. The moist honey cake gave her an
idea. Squatting down again, she made a kissing noise, holding out a bit of the cake. The dog came forward, tentative, his nose working. He took the offering from her fingers. His tail was wagging now and Annie sighed, relieved, and stood up again.

  “Bark worse than your bite, huh, pal?” She moved past him toward the end of the corridor. He followed her, nosing her hand to see if she had more for him. Around the corner, the passage ended and Annie found herself under one of those caged red light bulbs at a door marked with a strange symbol and the word Apollyon. She frowned. There were no other doors and the corridor had come to a dead-end.

  Annie shrugged. This must be the place! End of the line! She opened the door and it swung easily. The room was all basement—cinderblock walls and pipes that ran across the ceiling. The fluorescent light over her head flickered. It was clearly a book store, filled with shelves, but there were all sorts of other strange, occult novelties, tarot cards and glass fairy baubles and statues of various gods and goddesses. Annie stared at a huge red Buddha on the floor that had a sign near his faded belly that read, Rub Me.

  She could smell incense and located the source on a desk that held an ancient cash register. The incense burner was in the carved out top of a human skull replica that glowed with the light of a candle inside. Annie made a face. Lovely. Gotta remember to put that one on my Christmas list. There were no customers milling about.

  “Hello?” Annie called, looking for the source of the voice that had called the dog. Annie thought she saw movement behind one of the book shelves and called out again. “Kora?”

  The dog beside her barked and the door behind her swung shut, the force of it making the skull light flicker and go out. Annie started, gasping, and her hand went to her throat. The dog licked her other hand as if in apology and trotted off behind the desk where wisps of smoke were coming out of the skull’s eye sockets.

  “I heard you!” came a muffled voice.

  Annie turned at the sound of a door, and a girl entered the room looking like she should be going to a funeral. Annie understood the whole goth-girl rebellion thing, but she had never found it attractive. I guess that’s the point? The girl was wearing the requisite black lipstick, heavy make-up, dark eye shadow. Her long hair was dyed a deep black with red streaks. Annie eyed her combat boots and Beetlejuice-striped thigh highs and suppressed a smile.