Crossroads of Bones (A Katie Bishop Novel Book 1)

by Luanne Bennett

  Wow. I didn’t expect that. “I’d like to go but I can’t leave the shop. Especially after taking a couple of days off this week.”

  He walked around the counter and kissed me. “I know, but it would be nice to have you on the back of my bike for a few hours.”

  Sugar came flouncing into Lou’s at 12:40 p.m., ten minutes late. Her sunglasses suggested she’d had a rough Sunday night, and the jumpsuit she was wearing was zipped a little too low, exposing some of the hair on her chest.

  “You’re showing,” I warned, nodding toward the tuft of dark curls peeking out.

  She glanced down at it. “Yeah, I need to get that shit ripped off. Ain’t got the tolerance for that kind of pain today, though.” She pulled her zipper higher and slid into the booth. After picking up the menu and pretending to peruse it for a minute or two, she tossed it on the table and folded her arms. “Where the hell you been?”

  “I’m sorry, Sugar. I–I was planning on calling you,” I groveled. “Things got a little crazy yesterday and it slipped my mind.”

  Her expression turned a little hostile. “Crazy? I’ll tell you what crazy is. Crazy is me thinking that damn spirit finally got hold of you. Crazy is me trying to have a good time last night without worrying about you every five minutes.”

  She looked like a human fly, penetrating me over the table with her shiny dark lenses. “Can you take those things off.” She whipped the glasses off and glared at me with her bloodshot hazel eyes. “You know, you could have just called me,” I muttered.

  Her eyes widened as she dared me to repeat what I’d just said. “What was that?”

  All she had to do was pick up the phone, but I knew Sea Bass had let her know I was taking the day off to spend it with Jackson. And there lay the problem. She didn’t quite trust him yet, and her feelings were bruised because I’d put him before her yesterday. “I really like him, Sugar. If he wanted to hurt me, believe me, he had plenty of opportunity to do it by now.” Noticing the scorned look on her face, I offered a truce. “We need a girl’s night out.”

  “Damn right.” Her expression softened a little from the white flag I’d just waved at her.

  I slipped out of the booth to get some food. Lou’s didn’t have wait service. If you wanted to eat, you ordered at the counter and carried it to your table. “You hungry? It’s my treat.”

  She glanced at the menu. “Get me a bowl of tomato soup. And some crackers,” she added as I walked away.

  I carried our food back to the table five minutes later. “I got you crackers and a biscuit.” That put a smile on her face. “So, what did I miss yesterday? Anything exciting happen around here?”

  She dunked her biscuit into the creamy orange soup and bit into the soaked edge. “I don’t know about right here,” she mumbled around her mouthful, “but I been getting a head full of noise since you been gone.”

  My spoon stopped halfway to my mouth, knowing better than to assume that little statement was benign. Sugar had “the sight”, as she called it, and that meant something was coming. “What kind of noise?”

  “Oh . . . Mama’s been bleeding into my head, sending me messages.”

  I waited for her to continue because I knew she was holding something back. She glanced up at me over her bowl but went mute, slurping the soup off the edge of her spoon. “Uh-uh,” I said. “You better start talking, Sugar.”

  “There ain’t much to talk about. You heard what Mama said: Better get them bones before them bones get you. I just keep hearing them words in my head, and that usually means they gonna be coming to fruition real soon.” Before the spoon made it to her mouth, she stopped and dropped it back into the bowl. “You thought any more about how you plan to get that bone charm inside of that thing?”

  I shook my head, frustrated by the whole situation. “I have no idea.” The thought of even getting that close to Legvu made me lose my appetite.

  “You sure I can’t convince you to move in with me for a while?” She asked. “I can move in with you, baby, but you got to make me some serious room in that closet of yours.”

  “That’s not happening, Sugar. I’ll be fine.” I patted the dragon over my shoulder. “Besides, I can’t hide forever.”

  A second later her concern was challenged by curiosity. “You know what? We been sitting here for a whole twenty minutes and you ain’t said one word about that man of yours. Come on. Tell Sugar all about that little date yesterday.”

  Seeing how she was privy to all things strange and unnatural in this town, I saw no reason to be discreet. I did leave out the names, though. “Let’s just say it was a real eye-opener. Jesus, Sugar, is anyone around here normal?”

  She dug back into her biscuit. “All I got to say is if you come to Savannah and you ain’t touched, you will be before you leave.”

  I decided to cut right to it. “Have you ever heard of something called a Dimensional?”

  She swallowed her bread and shoved the soup bowl away. “You mean them folks who turn into things like chairs and sidewalks and all kinds of other useless things?” She leaned back into the thick vinyl seat and fiddled with the restricting zipper concealing her wayward chest hair. “If you gonna shift into something, you might as well turn into something fun like an eagle or a lion. What the hell good is turning into a goddamn dining room table?”

  “Those are the ones,” I said. “I met a couple of them yesterday, not to mention the more traditional kind.” Actually, that little talent had been anything but useless at the barbeque. Had it not been for Cairo and his clan, the afternoon might have turned into a free-for-all. I’m sure there were plenty of good reasons for their existence. You know what they say, God doesn’t make junk.

  With squinted eyes and a raised chin, she asked, “Jackson? I read people pretty good, and I didn’t read him as the boring type.”

  On the contrary, Jackson Hunter was one of the most interesting men I’d ever met. “There’s nothing remotely boring about Jackson, and he’s not a shifter. But he has some eclectic friends.” I considered my next words carefully, not because I didn’t trust Sugar completely, but because I didn’t want to hear about it if she didn’t approve of me dating someone who could possibly break my dragon like a twig—could he? “Let’s just say he’s stronger than the average guy.”

  “I see. Strong as in . . .” she prompted, rolling her hand and head in conjunction to move me along.

  “Really strong.” When she pressed further with her annoying glare, I obliged her. “He threw a grizzly bear across a yard yesterday. Well, actually he punched it and it sailed about thirty feet.”

  She gave me one of those deadpan looks she was so good at, pointing her toothpick in my direction. “Mmhmm. I can’t say I’m surprised. A woman like you would attract something like that.”

  “A woman like me? What the hell does that mean?”

  She cocked her head. “That was a compliment, baby. Boys like that are looking for something special, not some high-maintenance, whiny little ass thing. You got that effervescence about you.”

  “Well, does Jackson have your approval?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Honey if you don’t jump on that man, I will.”

  22

  I liked Tuesdays. It was Wednesdays that usually had us all working our tails off for enough revenue to pay the utilities, if we were lucky. I vowed to do away with two-for-one Wednesdays as soon as the shop was turning a decent profit. But something had the hair on the back of my neck standing at full attention all morning and the pit of my stomach felt floppy, like something was fighting to push its way out.

  “Uh, Katie,” Sea Bass said, pulling on the other end of the broom handle I had in a death grip as I stared blankly out the front window. “May I? Unless you want to actually use it.”

  I let go of the handle and continued with my nervous puttering while I waited for my one o’clock appointment to show up. He was ten minutes late and I had a feeling he wasn’t coming, which was fine with me considering m
y distracted mood. Lucky for my earlier client I snapped out of it long enough to put that salamander on her right shoulder. I always told myself that the day I did bad work because of personal issues was the day I turned in my equipment and became the silent manager.

  The phone at the front counter rang. “Katie,” Abel called across the room. “Your one o’clock just cancelled. Car trouble.”

  Relief washed over me, even though it was the final session of a large tattoo that would have brought in some decent revenue for the day. I paced around the shop trying to walk off some of my excess adrenaline. Mouse was working her way down a client’s sleeve, adding the fierce talons of an owl that wrapped around his arm just above the elbow.

  I glanced at the coffeemaker. “I’m going to the deli for a cup of peppermint tea. Anyone need anything?” Caffeine would just make it worse, and Lou’s didn’t sell anything without it. With no takers, I grabbed my wallet and headed for the front door. As I reached for the handle, a woman with blonde hair pushed it open from the outside. She stopped in my path and pinned me with her violet eyes, refusing to let me pass. “Can I help you?” I asked, dread pooling in my gut as she smiled at me and refused to budge.

  She replied in a steady voice that fueled the squirrels already trampling around my innards. “I’d like a tattoo.”

  I took an involuntary step back, meeting her stare as she proceeded forward. Had I not stepped to the side, I’m sure she would have barreled right over me. “We’re a little busy today,” I lied, glancing at Sea Bass who was about to open his mouth and correct me. His jaw half opened before he caught on to my strange reaction to her and snapped it shut. “Do you have an appointment?”

  She gave me something between a smirk and a smile and glanced around the half-empty room. “You don’t look very busy.”

  Call it instinct, but I knew I had to get out of there. Without debating those instincts, I maneuvered around her toward the door. But as soon as I started to move, she grabbed my forearm and shook her head. The dragon stirred.

  Sea Bass glanced down at the woman’s hand gripped around my arm like a vise. He must have picked up on the message I was sending him or the flash of green in my eyes. “I can do it,” he said. I stared at him in disbelief. An honorable but stupid gesture; he was trying to protect me. He knew damn well what would happen if the woman was the host and he started working on that deadly tattoo.

  “No!” I blurted. “You have a client coming in at two o’clock. I’ll do it.”

  He headed for the door but she blocked his exit, motioning for him to get back. Then she walked over to my station and made herself comfortable. She reached into her bag and pulled out the drawing. Sea Bass, Abel and I all held our breath as we waited to see what was on that sheet of paper, to confirm if indeed she was the host. Even Mouse’s hand went still as she looked up to see.

  I took the paper from her hand. Just as I suspected, it was the same tattoo from my latest dream. The second spirit was free, and now the host housing both of them—Legvu himself—was standing in my shop.

  “Do you want to make any changes to the drawing before we begin?” It was a standard question, but in this case it was meant to stall until I could figure out what to do. Everyone in the shop was at risk if I didn’t cooperate. “Maybe a little more color?” The drawing was round and geometric, similar to a mandala but with imagery behind it that disturbed the peaceful rhythm of the design. For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, it was difficult to look at for more than a few seconds, which begged the question of how I could apply it without becoming uncomfortable—or even ill—while I worked on it.

  She gazed back at me and said what I already knew. “It must be applied exactly as it appears on the paper. Not a mark out of place.” The faint grin on her face vanished. “Because that would be very bad, Miss Bishop.”

  A thought hit me like a wave of water, sucking the breath back into my lungs and making it difficult to breathe. Maybe that’s why the others died before they completed the tattoo. Had they accidently deviated from the drawing? Maybe it had nothing to do with my dragon at all, and the only reason I was still alive was my ability to color between the lines.

  “That’s ridiculous,” I muttered.

  The host looked at me oddly. “Did you say something?”

  “Nothing. I’ll just go over there,” I pointed to the scanner, “and make a stencil.”

  She was watching me like a hawk, so calling Fin was out of the question. The rest of the shop was in her sights, too. Basically, Sea Bass and the rest of the team would be under house arrest and helpless to do anything but watch as I made the stencil and then applied that tattoo.

  I took my time but finally had no choice but to walk back to my station to begin, the whole time my brain trying to work out a plan to get me out of the shop without causing a riot. Legvu’s host could cause a lot of damage if I didn’t cooperate, and to make matters worse my eyes were starting to burn again. Everyone in the shop was about to meet the dragon and get caught in the crossfire if I didn’t find a peaceful way out of there.

  The front door opened and in walked Sea Bass’ two o’clock client, an hour early. “Hey, man,” he said to Sea Bass. “I was hoping we could start early so I can get out of here by four.” A regular and an old friend of Sea Bass’, he glanced around the half-empty shop and raised a questioning brow. “That okay with you?”

  Sea Bass glanced at me for direction. “Sorry, Sean,” I said. “He’s helping me with my client right now. You’ll have to come back at two o’clock.” Disappointed, he looked to Sea Bass who seemed a little frozen in place. “Sea Bass, tell your client to come back,” I nudged.

  Sea Bass came back from la-la land. “Y-Yeah, Sean, you’re gonna have to come back in an hour.”

  The second Sean walk back out the door, the host stripped off her shirt and lay on the table facedown. I pointed my finger into the middle of her back. “Here?” I asked, knowing exactly where to put it, the same spot where Victor Tuse asked to have his applied. She nodded and lowered her head, dropping her arms to the sides of the table. I steadied my trembling hands and applied a small amount of gel to her back before carefully pressing the stencil down. The thought of making a mistake before I ever put a needle to her skin seemed almost laughable, but a real motivator to get every detail right.

  Stop shaking, I told myself, my thoughts running rampant as I tried to visualize a way out of the impossible situation. Then I remembered the bone charm Davina had given me—neatly tied up in that little satin bag, stuffed inside a drawer in my kitchen. Fuck! I’d forgotten the damn thing. I’d been so wrapped up in Jackson Hunter I’d left it in a drawer like a spare set of keys.

  For the next hour I traced the stencil with the finesse of a bomb specialist, inking the lines with painstaking precision, beads of sweat seeping through my brow and into my eyes. I was beginning to think the best idea was to run out the back door and hope she ran after me. At least it would create a diversion so the others could escape out the front.

  “I need to take a break,” I said. “My hand is—”

  Sugar walked through the front door and took one look at Sea Bass’ frantic eyes staring back at hers, and I swear her cinnamon skin blanched. I could see his mouth moving, silently telling her to get out as his eyes targeted the woman on my table.

  My eyes must have been screaming, too, because she stopped in her tracks and turned back toward the door. “I guess this ain’t Le Petit Gateau,” she stated, referring to the bakery a few blocks away, hurrying out of the shop and disappearing out of view.

  The host turned her head at an unnatural angle and glared at me suspiciously. I held her stare and refused to let her see my nerves, praying that Sugar had figured it out and was calling Fin Cooper from around the corner. My hand started to work again, retracing the lines I’d already done in an attempt to stall for more time. The tattoo would take hours, but the dragon wouldn’t wait if I didn’t calm myself down and get on with it.

  I got a
bout five more minutes of work completed before the inevitable rush hit me. It was too late. I could feel my eyes shifting, the brilliant green smashing through my blue irises. I couldn’t hold my eyes shut for long, and I was a minute away from revealing my dragon in full glory for everyone to see. Well, I guess being outed was better than being dead. I hoped the same was true for the rest of the folks in the shop.

  “What the fuck!” Abel blurted, feeling the floor tremble as my dragon stirred and a growl resonated through the shop.

  A siren somewhere in the distance drowned out the growl, growing louder as it turned down a nearby street. I caught myself thinking about how fortunate we would be if it turned down our street. Then it did. The siren blared, getting louder by the second, assaulting our ears with the excruciating sound. The fire engine reached our block, but just as I expected it to fly past the front window it came to an abrupt stop in front of MagicInk and the siren went mercifully quiet. It was almost surreal, watching a crew of firemen jumped out of the bright red truck and head straight for our front door.

  It took the host about two seconds to grab her shirt and turn to me. “We’re not done!” she hissed, gazing at my burning eyes with fascination. Then she walked right past the firemen and out the front door. I, on the other hand, ran for the back door and slid down the exterior wall of the building, praying I’d have enough time to recover before anyone came out after me. Thank God it was Sea Bass when I looked up at the person hovering over me.

  “Katie!” He took my face in his hands and looked into my otherworldly eyes. “That’s it. Just calm down and think good thoughts. Think trees and birds and . . . butterflies.”

  I sucked in a massive lungful of air and felt my adrenaline simmer back down to a manageable level. After a minute or two, Sea Bass informed me that my eyes were back to bright blue, right about the time one of the firemen stepped through the back door.

  “You all right, ma’am?” he asked, hunching down to feel my wrist. “I can call an ambulance.”