by Ani Gonzalez
Kat grimaced. "Oops, did I say that out loud?"
That made him laugh. "I'm glad to hear I'm getting my money's worth. Maybe I'll even try that sometime."
Her blush deepened and she hurriedly drained her glass. "I should go back to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow."
"Do you need a ride?"
"No, I'll walk. I'm just going to the botánica to have a little chat with Yolanda."
"That could backfire."
She rinsed her glass in the sink. "I don't care. It's just a girl chat about, you know, cars and curses and dreams. Things like that." She put the glass on the drain board. "Good night."
"Good night and good luck," he replied, watching her walk out of the kitchen.
He had things to do too. His job was to get the house sold and get her out of here as fast as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like Kat. Indeed, he liked her a little too much. It wouldn't do to get used to having her here. He had to hurry up the sale of the house.
Luckily, he'd just figured out exactly how to do it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KAT STROLLED through the botánica's bookshelves, wondering what the hell she was looking for.
Reassurance, probably. A good explanation, definitely. A way to ascertain that the spirit in her new abode was properly appeased would also be welcome. The car incident, the dreams last night, none of that screamed "restless spirit finally at peace," did it?
No, it did not. She was starting to suspect that this easy-peasy, just-tie-the-knot-and-break-the-curse gig wasn't so simple after all. Maybe Liam and Yolanda got their spell wrong ... or maybe it was something else?
She recalled the bright, luxuriously appointed Hagen House and the eerie feeling of elation that had enveloped her when Liam carried her over the threshold.
That hadn't felt like a curse, it had felt like, well, she didn't know what.
But she had a feeling she had to find out. Something about this whole get-married-and-break-the-curse deal was making her uneasy. It sounded too, well, simple. Didn't you usually have to find out why the person died and help them avenge their death? That's the way it usually went in scary movies.
The dream last night, for instance, had been classic horror-movie material. It had made her skin crawl. Something was seriously wrong with the Hagen House, and she wasn't sure that a quick wedding with fake vampire attendants was enough to fix it.
The store was surprisingly soothing. Something about the scented air—was that lavender?—and book-lined walls was very relaxing. Take the Quan-Yin statue in the corner. The goddess' kind demeanor and Mona Lisa smile gave her the feeling that everything was going to be fine. The leering Kali, Goddess of Destruction, on the opposite wall seemed to imply the exact opposite, but Kat decided to ignore that.
But she didn't really have time to dabble in magic. She should be at the house, setting up her studio. She had a couple of commissions that were due soon, and there was always new inventory to be offered on her website. She also had to revise her plans for her bricks-and-mortar store.
Yep, she had a lot of work. She needed to get on with it.
But instead she was in the local paranormal store, looking through books. Books about dream interpretation, no less.
That's what the Hagen House did to you. It woke you in the middle of the night with disturbingly vivid dreams about knives and blood and crashing chandeliers.
And handsome, seductive men. At least she wasn't confused about that part of the dream. She was attracted to Liam, no doubt about that.
And no shame either. He was very good-looking and they were living in close proximity. There was nothing strange about being attracted to the man who poured you cereal in the morning and asked whether you wanted regular or skim milk.
Unusual for her, maybe, but not strange at all.
It was the other part of the dream that bothered her. The one with the blood and the betrayal. The one where she came face-to-face with a tragic brunette with haunted eyes and a bloodied face. A face that at the end of the dream she recognized as her own.
Luckily, she'd woken up, gone to the kitchen, and run into Liam. Seeing him sitting in a mundane, albeit fabulously attractive kitchen, working on a laptop had instantly reassured her. They'd had a quick chat and a few laughs and she'd instantly felt better. She'd gone back to her room and slept like a log.
Still, she couldn't quite forget the dream. It left her with a nagging feeling that they were missing something, and that it would have grievous consequences.
She pulled out a book called Dreams: Messages From Beyond, and checked the index. Angels? No. Demons? No. Past lives? Oh, she really hoped not. Violent deaths?
Most definitely, yes.
She leafed through the book. As she'd suspected, a violent death in a dream, like, for example, falling from a second story balcony onto a marble floor, didn't necessarily mean that you were going to die.
That was a relief.
It did, however, mean that there was something unfinished, something undone. It also meant that a change was coming. A big change.
Gee, talk about cryptic.
"Don't worry about it, child," a soothing voice intoned behind her.
She turned to see Yolanda, again in her beauty salon apron, smiling kindly at her.
"It'll be all right," Yolanda added. "It's always a bit scary at first."
"At first?" That did not sound good. "What do you mean 'at first'? And what's going on with my car and the lady in my dreams?"
Kat couldn't hide the suspicious edge in her voice. The botánica owner looked harmless, but she had already covered Kat's car in stinky ashes. Who knew what she would do next?
Yolanda's kind smile did not waver. "It's just the geomagnetic fault making mischief. It makes hidden powers manifest themselves. You get used to it after a while."
"The fault?" She'd heard about the Banshee Creek geomagnetic fault, of course. Theoretically, it was the cause of all the paranormal phenomena around town. Supposedly, the fault attracted all the mystical critters—the creek's Mothman, the bakery's brownie, the weird Japanese thing in the tattoo parlor that made that crazy drumming sound—to the village. That's why PRoVE sold t-shirts that read "The Geomagnetic Fault Made Me Do It" and why the local radio station gave special reports warning people when the fault was particularly active.
But what did that have to do with her dreams? She had never had a dream like that before. Was Yolanda saying that Banshee Creek caused the nightmare?
"Some people would call it a ley line," Yolanda explained. "A powerful vein of magic that bends reality around it."
That sounded ominous. Kat didn't particularly want her reality bent. Her life made sense and she wanted to keep it that way. "What does it do exactly? Something bad?"
Yolanda shrugged. "It depends on your point of view. As to what does it do? Let's put it this way. Let's say your goddaughter gets into UVA and the financial aid covers tuition, but her family is still stuck paying a large chunk of money for room and board and travel and living expenses. You want to help out, so you decide to do a tiny spell, nothing mayor, to bring some money in. Anywhere else in the world, your spell would result in a small lottery win or a modest inheritance, or maybe even a substantial bump in clientele." She sighed. "In Banshee Creek? Here, you get a billionaire turning the town into the country's premiere paranormal destination, an entirely new side business, and a massive headache." Her eyes brightened. "But your goddaughter gets to graduate without loans, so at least there's a silver lining."
"Oh." Kat didn't exactly understand what Yolanda was talking about, but she caught the gist of it. "So the magic is pretty strong then. That should be good for breaking the curse, right?"
Maybe the uneasiness she had about their plan was unfounded. Maybe it would only take a couple of days to rid the house of the hostile influence.
But Yolanda only shrugged. "Magic isn't good or bad. It's like the ocean waves. It can take you to new places or it can crash you upon the shore."
The Hagen House, it seemed, had a theme.
"But you know what you're doing," Kat countered. "And you gave Liam the spell. So we should be okay, correct?"
Another noncommittal shrug. Kat was getting really tired of Yolanda's shrugging.
"What I could do," Yolanda said, "I did."
Great, now she even sounded like Yoda.
"So, is there something else that could be done?"
There. That was the crux of it, the message from the dream. There was something left to do.
If only she knew what.
"And don't shrug!" Kat exclaimed.
Yolanda stared at her in shock, then laughed.
"You're a true daughter of Oshún," Yolanda said. "Or Brigid, or Freya, or whichever goddess of beauty you pick." Her laughter morphed into a tender smile. "I have done what I could, child, and what I did brought you here."
She paused, staring into Kat's eyes.
"Now it's up to you to do the rest."
What?
Kat started to speak, but Yolanda motioned for her to be silent.
"I cannot do more." Her dark eyes gleamed. "You have to learn for yourself."
Oh, yes, definitely Yoda-like.
"Learn what?" Kat asked, totally exasperated. This was way above her pay grade. Her job was to dress in white, get married, and putter around the house until the curse couldn't take it anymore. She hadn't signed up for the Morgan Le Fay role.
"This," Yolanda tapped on the dream interpretation book, "is a good start." She picked another book off the shelf. "And so is this." Another book. "And this." She squinted at the pile of books in Kat's arms. "That should be helpful. You'll need materials too. I'll give you the beginner's kit." She looked up at Kat, eyes narrowed. "And a few extras."
Yolanda put some candles, herbs, and a couple of bottles into a bag, then led the way to the cash register. Kat followed, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell she was doing. She felt rather like Alice after she'd gone down the rabbit's hole. Nothing made sense, and yet she kept going, as if propelled by an invisible force.
At the cash register, Yolanda rang up her purchases. Good heavens, was it really that much? And was she really buying a book titled, Magic: As Above, So Below?
Yes, apparently she was.
Kat paid with a credit card, trying not to wince at the total, and received a cloth bag full of books that read: "Banshee Creek Botánica: Where Knowledge Really Is Power."
"The bag is free with a fifty dollar purchase," Yolanda explained. "Oh, and don't forget this." She pushed a piece of paper into Kat's hand.
Kat walked out the door into the scorching summer heat, holding the tote bag and the piece of paper. The town looked normal, well, normal for Banshee Creek. A young family stepped out of the bakery, holding frozen drinks and bat-shaped cookies. A dozen paranormal investigators walked into the PRoVE building, carrying boxes. A group of teenagers collected signatures for a petition. Apparently the local youth wanted the Virginia General Assembly to declare Stuckeyville Parkway "Virginia's Official Devil Monkey Highway."
Yep, totally normal.
A young woman in a mundane business suit stood out amongst this motley crowd. It was Amy Chan and she was carrying a cardboard box with the Poltergeist Pizza logo.
"Hey, it's the Bride of Frankenstein," Amy called out, grinning. "How's newlywed life treating you? Has the chandelier crashed on you yet?"
Kat grinned back. "Nope. But Liam is not taking any chances. He declared the foyer off limits. My car too."
"Yes, I heard that we had a Christine episode. Are you okay?"
"Absolutely, I wasn't in the car."
But what would have happened if she'd been in the driver's seat? That was the question.
Amy eyed Kat's purchases. "I see you're stocking up. I guess it doesn't hurt to be prepared in this town. Would you care for some pizza before tackling the forces of darkness? It's Pepe's Bela Lugosi special, with Transylvanian sausage, onions and extra garlic." She glanced down at the box's ghost logo. "I guess I should call it Poltergeist Pizza now."
The offer was very tempting. Kat could use some food right now and also a bit of information. "Sounds good. I have some questions for you. The first one is: Is that sausage really Transylvanian?"
Amy shrugged. "By way of New Jersey. Hey, all's fair in love and business branding. C'mon, I'm dying for a slice. There's only so much lo mein a body can take."
The pizza did smell good, and after a morning discussing curses and dreams and spells, a slice was just what she needed. Kat followed Amy to the Chinese restaurant, which was a block away. Amy avoided the main entrance and headed for the back, where a sign on a gray door announced "Deliveries Only."
"It wouldn't do to bring in Italian food through the front," Amy explained, pushing open the heavy metal door with her hip. "It might confuse the customers."
They entered a dark hallway lined with metal shelves filled with boxes of food. A giant erase board calendar with staff schedules hung on the other wall. A date in mid-August was highlighted with neon yellow stars and finely drawn red fireworks. The words "Chinese Ghost Festival" were scribbled in black marker.
"I guess you folks are going to be busy," Kat commented.
"You mean with the Ghost Festival?" Amy opened a nearby fridge with one hand. "Here, get a couple of beers." She glanced at the calendar. "On second thought, get four."
Kat grabbed the beers, grinning. "Just thinking about it calls for alcohol, huh? I thought it was a fairly low key holiday."
She remembered going to New York City's Chinatown with a couple of friends once. As far as she knew, the festival involved honoring one's ancestors, lighting lanterns, and burning fake money. It didn't sound that complicated.
Amy nodded, walking into a cramped office. "Yep, but it's the first time we're doing it. Caine and I talked the town into it." She put the pizza box on the desk and cleared some space so they could eat comfortably. "Summer is slow, so we convinced the town that a festival might bring in a few tourists. We plan to release lanterns in the creek and burn the hell money—you know, the offerings to the dead—in the town square. It will all coincide with the Hong Kong Horror Movie Festival and the radio station's Chinese Ghost Story marathon. We're also going to have concerts. A group of folksingers is coming all the way from Taiwan and our local country-folk band, The Space Cowboys, is also going to play."
Amy held up a colorful flyer with a Chinese sword drawn on it. "These are going up tomorrow. We also have a special festival menu, which took us forever to plan. We just finished the sample dishes and they are out being taste-tested."
"It sounds like you have it all figured out." Kat grabbed some paper plates and napkins from a nearby shelf. The pink and orange napkins had the Banshee Creek Bakery logo printed on them, so this wasn't the first time Amy brought contraband food to the office.
"From your mouth to God's ear," Amy said, opening the pizza box. "Now, let's eat."
She handed out the slices while Kat opened the Tsingtao beer bottles. The pizza was hot, cheesy, and delicious. They ate quietly in the reverent silence a truly excellent pizza merited.
Amy finished her slice and reached for the beer. "Ah, that hit the spot. I feel much better now."
Kat reached for another slice. "It's not Brooklyn's best, but it's still really good pizza."
Amy chuckled. "That's high praise coming from a New Yorker." She grabbed a second slice and an extra napkin. "How are you doing? You said you had some questions. Did my godmother manage to spook you?"
Kat paused in mid-bite. "Yolanda is your godmother?"
That explained a lot. Amy must be the business school graduate with no student loans. Kat stifled a pang of envy. Her own student loan balance was, sadly,
nowhere close to zero.
"Yep," Amy took another bite. "We're a close-knit bunch here in Banshee Creek. So, are you going to run back to New York? Caine started a betting pool."
Kat snorted. "Honey, it takes more than a curse to scare a girl from the Bronx."
"Good, gān mā is really excited to have the Santelli heir in town."
Kat chewed her pizza, thinking hard. "Is that because of the house?"
She was glad that Amy had brought up the subject. Yolanda had helped Amy's family handle their cursed mask and Kat was curious to hear what Amy had to say about her own paranormal problem.
Amy avoided her gaze. "The house and other things." She took a sip of beer. "The Santelli women were rumored to be powerful Streghe."
"What?"
"Streghe," Amy repeated. "Singular, stregha. That's what they called witches in the Italian peninsula. It's how Violetta managed to curse the house."
Kat put her pizza down. "I didn't know that. I thought it was just a result of the suicide."
Amy shook her head. "Yolanda thinks that the suicide was part of the spell. A death to seal the curse. I heard her talking about it with Caine. That's kind of how our mask worked too."
Kat's heart sank. That's what bothered her about the dream. The fall itself. As she'd dropped down, she hadn't felt the expected grief or despair. She'd felt a horrible hatred and an evil intent.
Yolanda was right.
"She says I have to do it myself," Kat said glumly. "I'm not sure why."
Amy gave her a sympathetic smile. "That's what she told my parents too."
"What did they do?"
Any shrugged. "They've never told me. I figure it must have been super creepy." She grabbed another slice of pizza. "But Yolanda thinks you have the ability. That means you'll be able to do it."
Kat looked down at the paper she'd placed next to her plate. It was the botánica's help wanted ad, the one she'd seen yesterday. Yolanda, it seemed, was offering her a job. Clearly, the santera thought that Kat had some kind of talent.