Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran

by Kim Carmichael

  After a good night’s sleep she’d decide if she should use magick to help Luca or let him work out his own problem.

  * * * *

  A HALF HOUR BEFORE HER SHIFT started Collette bounded down the stairs to the shop. Alice was finishing up checking out a customer.

  Once they were alone, Collette leaned over the counter. “Can I ask you about something?”

  “Sure. You know you can ask me anything.” Alice sat on a small stool and crossed one leg over the other.

  “A friend asked me to perform a binding spell on his ex-girlfriend.”

  Alice raised her eyebrows. “Is this the young man you’ve been seeing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would he ask you to do that?”

  “He told me she’s been stalking him and won’t leave him alone. He believes she’s dangerous. So he asked me if I could do something that would help him.” Collette relayed the story that Luca had told her.

  “Do you want to help him?”

  “I do, but I was mad because he lied to me about it initially. I didn’t think it was a good idea to make any decisions while I was upset. So, I sent him home and told him I’d think about it.”

  “That’s smart. If you believe what he’s told you, I think a binding would be appropriate.”

  Collette nodded. “I’m inclined to do it, but I wanted to get your opinion.”

  “I’m glad you told me and I’d say if you care about him, go for it. Bindings are simple spells and don’t cause any harm to the person being bound.”

  “Thanks, Alice. I guess I needed some positive reinforcement.”

  They chatted a while longer about the inventory in the store before Alice took her purse and left for the evening.

  When it was almost time to close, Collette texted Luca and asked him to come over. She knew he lived nearby and it only took about fifteen minutes for him to get to the store.

  Neither of them said much while she closed out the cash register and wiped down the counter. Luca followed her upstairs after she locked up.

  She locked the door and turned around to face him. “I’ve given this some thought and I’m going to help you. I’ll bind Betina and hopefully she’ll leave you alone.”

  Luca pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “But if you lie to me again, I will put a spell on you that will make you impotent.” Collette smiled sweetly and stood on tiptoes to kiss his nose.

  With a laugh, he slapped her on the ass. “You scare the shit out of me sometimes.”

  “Good.”

  The piece of paper with Betina’s name on it sat where she’d left it the night before. She picked it up and folded it in half. A length of white ribbon lay on the counter. Collette slowly wrapped the ribbon around the paper.

  “I bind you, Betina. I bind you from doing harm against others and from doing harm to yourself.” She continued wrapping the ribbon over and over. “I bind you, Betina. I bind you from doing harm against others and from doing harm to yourself.” Collette repeated the phrase until all the ribbon was wrapped around the paper. She tucked the end of the ribbon underneath, then put the entire thing into a ziplock bag and sealed it.

  “That’s it?” Luca asked.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled her into a hug. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

  Chapter Five

  THE SPELL HAD BEEN A SIMPLE ONE. Collette hadn’t felt bad about it, because she wanted to help Luca cut ties with Betina and she would rather not have to worry about another woman. He’d gone home sometime during the early morning after the ritual and she hadn’t heard from him yet that night.

  If she had a television, she might have pulled out the bed stowed inside her sofa and curled up to mindlessly watch a sitcom or police drama that she used to enjoy. Without that option, she decided to head out to the record store two blocks over, the same store where she made the mix tape for Luca. Collette could spend hours poring over the used record bins. Music on CDs was a great revolution, but she enjoyed the old style of things. Of course, she caved and had music on her phone for when she was out.

  Collette pulled on a red cardigan over the white shirt she wore. She was no fashion maven and preferred comfort over anything else as evidenced by her faded old blue jeans and Chucks she’d had since high school. A small hole had worn in the black canvas just above her right big toe.

  The original mousey brown color of her hair had been dyed to a glossy black. The contrast against her pale skin and hazel eyes suited her.

  The stairs that led up to her apartment had seen better days. Collette jogged down them and pushed through the back door into the alley behind the business. The shop was located mid-block on Bourbon Street in the heart of the French Quarter. She gave the alley a cursory glance and put in the bullet-shaped earbuds and cranked up Siouxsie and the Banshees. She tucked her phone into her back pocket and headed toward the street.

  The sun dipped below the horizon and the sky had turned pretty shades of pink and orange. It would be dark when she got back and she had forgotten to turn on the light by the back door. She shrugged. She carried a small switchblade in her front pocket. If anyone had the idea to rob her, she wouldn’t hesitate to stab them.

  The weather was nice and the breeze blew through her hair as she strolled down the sidewalk toward Turning Tables. The scents of spicy Cajun food and saltwater were carried on the wind. In the sea of people milling about, she spotted a familiar face coming toward her. She smiled and pulled out one earbud when the man tipped his hat to her.

  “Evening, Miss Collette.”

  “Hello, Eddie. How are you?” She paused to say a few words to the man she’d seen every day since she moved in above the store.

  He was obviously homeless and maybe not playing with a full deck, but he had a kind smile and a happy disposition. “I’m just fine and dandy, ma’am, and yourself?” Eddie nodded a lot when he spoke.

  “I’m good. Heading down to the record store.”

  The man laughed. “I miss the days of old records. I wonder if they have any Etta James on vinyl.”

  “If they do, I’ll get it for you.”

  “You’re too kind.” He patted his pocket where she knew he kept a harmonica. “I’ll gladly play you a tune to compensate you, pretty lady.”

  Collette winked at him. “Sounds like a good deal to me. I’ll see you later.”

  “Oh, one other thing, Miss Collette, I’ve noticed a shady looking fella’ hanging out around the store. Everything okay with you?”

  She thought he was probably thinking of Luca. “Tall guy with dark hair?” she asked.

  “Hmm…no. This one is tall, but has blond hair. Looks a bit like Thor.”

  Collette pondered. “I don’t know anyone like that. Have you talked to him at all?”

  “No, ma’am. Just seen him loitering around. Maybe he’s casing the joint.” Eddie touched her shoulder. “I’ll keep my eyes on him for you. But you be careful, you hear?”

  “Sure. I will.”

  Strangers usually stayed strangers in her book, but Eddie was a good egg. He’d walked her home, well to her back door, quite a few times and he played some of the best blues she’d ever heard. Why he hadn’t landed a gig somewhere in the Quarter was beyond her. Perhaps he didn’t want to. He played on street corners for donations, which she guessed didn’t amount to much, but he never asked her for anything.

  New Orleans was filled with odd people, so she wasn’t immediately alarmed by what Eddie had mentioned. But she had been feeling a little uneasy lately, especially at closing time. Luca was there most nights though, so she dismissed it.

  A black record was painted onto the glass door of Turning Tables. It was set up informally with a beat up red couch near the door and some round tables with chairs for people to sit and listen to the music piped through the store with big speakers hanging on the walls.

  The older redhead behind the counter waved and popped her gum. “Hey, honey. How’s it go
ing?”

  “Hi. Going good.” Collette smiled and walked toward the back of the store where the clearance section was. She flipped through the albums passing up artists she’d never heard of. The cover of a Duran Duran album caught her eye. There were black and white pictures of old wedding photos on it. She pulled it out of the crate and flipped it over to look at the song list. She didn’t know the music, but the cover was beautiful and vintage looking and it was marked down to three bucks. She set it aside and went through the second bin.

  Dark red flowers marked the cover of a Depeche Mode album that was her next choice. Five bucks. She put it on top of the Duran Duran one and held the two records against her chest. She bought some albums for the music, some for the art and some for both.

  Collette stopped in front a wire baker’s rack that held a cornucopia of cassette tapes. No titles jumped out at her. The cassettes were cheaper than the records, but she really loved the art on the record covers. Little plastic boxes didn’t have the same effect.

  “Is this all for you?” the lady behind the counter asked.

  “Yes.”

  “The Wedding album by DD is great. I’m surprised someone else didn’t snap it up before now.”

  Collette traced her finger over the pictures on the cover. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Did you know those are the band members’ parents’ wedding pictures?”

  “Really? That’s neat.” She smiled. “It would be pretty on the wall.”

  The woman slipped the two records into a square yellow bag. “Nine bucks.”

  Collette put a ten dollar bill on the counter. Her hair blew and she felt warm breath on the back of her neck. She spun around, but there was no one there besides the other people in line. None of them were close enough to breathe on her.

  She snatched up the records and waited for her change.

  “Thanks, honey. Come back soon.”

  “I will,” Collette answered and headed toward the front of the store.

  A man sitting at a table close to the door caught her eye. He hadn’t been there when she came in. He sat slouched in a chair, staring at his feet, but lifted his gaze as she came closer. His blond hair was slicked back and secured in a ponytail. His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but he didn’t.

  Collette stopped in her tracks and stared back at him. Her stomach tightened and a chill swept through her. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Alice had taught her to listen to her body’s responses to stimuli, but Collette couldn’t tell if what she was feeling was good or bad. Adrenaline rushed through her body and her heart sped up.

  He tilted his head to the side, but didn’t break the eye contact.

  Why the fuck wouldn’t her feet move? She swallowed hard and tried to avert her gaze, but couldn’t. Her legs tingled and finally she was able to move and she practically ran out the door. The air had chilled and she looked over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following her. A car horn blared when she stepped off the curb and someone grabbed her.

  “You got to watch out for the cars, Miss Collette.” Eddie was a sight for sore eyes. His smile faltered. “You all right?”

  “I’m—I’m okay. I just got spooked, I guess. Wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Well, you nearly got your clock cleaned.”

  Her mind raced. “I didn’t see any Etta James.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry. They didn’t have any Etta James.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Girl, you best be getting home. I don’t know what’s got you so rattled, but you don’t need to be out here on the street.”

  “I’m going home now. Thank you.” She smiled quickly and looked over her shoulder again. She left Eddie standing there on the sidewalk.

  Collette stopped short at the entrance to the alley and silently cursed herself for not turning on the light above the door. The moon was out, so at least it wasn’t pitch black. She took her key out and ran toward the door. In less than ten seconds, she was safely inside.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked aloud. Once the door was shut, she exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

  She shook her head and walked down the hall. The soles of her shoes squeaked in the dead silence. She stopped at the rear of the shop and took a look inside the store. On Sundays they closed early so Alice was gone already. The shelves were tidy and nothing seemed amiss. The lights were out, but some illumination from the street lamps outside filtered in through the plate glass windows in the front.

  Collette turned around, placed her hand on the banister, took one step up and froze. A shadowy figure stood at the top of the stairs.

  Her hand shook. She kept her eyes on him and slipped her fingers into her pocket to meet with the cool metal of her knife. In the blink of an eye, he flew down the stairs and barreled into her chest with such force she was lifted off her feet.

  The wind was knocked out of her on impact and she slid across the tile. When her vision cleared, she was staring up into the eyes of the man from the record store. He smiled revealing some big fucking teeth and cocked his head to the side like before, reminding her of an animal stalking its prey.

  “You stink like him.” Drool dripped from his mouth onto her cheek. He grabbed her hair with both of his hands and smacked her head on the floor.

  * * * *

  THE PAIN RICOCHETED inside her skull like a bullet. She sat up and gingerly rubbed the back of her head. Her stomach roiled and threatened to bring up its contents. Her neck was stiff and sore.

  “Fuck me,” she muttered and got up on her knees. The room spun and she sat down on her ass. Where was she? The space was small and there were tiny pink flowers on the wallpaper. A child’s room? How long had she been out?

  The door creaked open and a woman stepped inside. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “What’s going on?” Collette put her hand on the edge of a cedar chest. Her senses were quickly coming back to normal. This was wrong. She touched her pocket and the knife was gone. It took a minute to register in Collette’s mind. This was no random woman. It was Betina.

  “I have your knife for safekeeping. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Betina was smaller than Collette with blonde hair.

  Collette looked around the room. Besides a twin bed, a small vanity with a mirror and the cedar chest, the room was empty. There was no window. “What do you want?”

  Visions of being raped and tortured ran through her mind and her hands balled into fists, but her knees were weak. She was scared. No, she was terrified. Luca had said Betina was dangerous.

  The man from the record store appeared in the doorway. He towered over Betina. He was bigger than she remembered.

  Fuck. “Look. I don’t have any money…”

  “Oh, I’m not interested in your money, sweetie.” Betina smiled. “Did you really think your silly little spell would work?”

  “Look. I was just trying to help Luca. I’m sorry. I’ll undo it if you just let me go.” Collette hated that she sounded so desperate. Her voice cracked and tears came to her eyes.

  The woman stepped aside and waved the man into the room. “Take her to my chamber.”

  “No, no, no, no.” Collette stepped behind the bed. There was no way she could fight this guy, but maybe she could squirrel past him somehow. Fight or flight kicked in and her heart sped up to mach speed.

  He smiled and sniffed the air like a dog.

  The woman laughed. “I wouldn’t fight if I were you. Jӧrg here has a strong prey drive.”

  “Prey? What the fuck?” Collette jumped off the bed and ducked under his arm, but the woman grabbed her shoulder and swung her back like a fucking slingshot. Collette hit the wall and slid down onto the bed. She closed her eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help. Somebody help me.” Then she remembered being told that people don’t respond to words like that, but if you yell fire they pay attention. S
he took a deep breath and started yelling, “Fire! Fire!”

  “For fuck’s sake, Jӧrg, shut her up,” Betina ordered.

  The man straddled her on the bed and clamped a hand over her mouth and nose.

  Collette kicked her legs, trying to get him off her. She couldn’t breathe. He was going to suffocate her. White dots swam in her vision as she swung her arms at him, hitting him in the chest and arms. He was tall and she couldn’t reach his face.

  Her ears rang and the power to hit dissipated like in a dream when you can’t hit someone hard enough. Her chest burned from the lack of oxygen. She was losing consciousness and if she did, she was sure he would kill her. Collette dug her fingers into his hand. Bits of his flesh collected under her fingernails. She needed to move his hand a little so she could get some air.

  Jӧrg gritted his teeth and pushed harder on her face. His eyes flickered and he growled. The growl reminded her of Luca, of the last time they made love.

  Collette stared up at Jӧrg until he became a pinpoint of light in the dark and the ringing in her ears turned to a piano concerto.

  * * * *

  COLLETTE HADN’T ANSWERED her phone and her apartment was dark from the street, so Luca headed home. A block away he heard her scream. “Fuck.” He knew Collette’s voice, the inflection in her speech. Little things a human wouldn’t pick up on. He covered the block in a few seconds. When he pushed through the gate in front of his house, everything was silent. He stepped into the house, and it was still quiet, but for heavy breathing from upstairs.

  At the top of the stairs, he saw Betina standing in the doorway to the bedroom at the end of the hall. No one ever used that room. The heavy breathing was coming from Jӧrg who stood over the bed blocking Luca’s view of whoever lay there. Collette’s scent was in the air, but he didn’t hear her heartbeat. A leg dangled over the side of the bed, a black Converse tennis shoe on the foot.

  Acid burned in his stomach. His blood boiled. “Get the fuck away from her.” If any catalyst was needed to kill Betina, this was it. The invisible tie that kept him from killing her sooner was broken, thanks to Collette’s binding spell. He’d felt it last night. Or maybe he’d severed the tie himself with Collette’s help. Whatever the case, he felt no loyalty now.