“So? Gonna tell me about it?” Jo asked. Her dress was a black velvet sheath with a deep cowl neck. Nestled in the center of all those of velvet folds was her locket. The opal petals of the white rose and the emerald leaves looked amazing. The ring of diamonds on the edges sparkled every time we passed under a streetlight. The locket was beautiful to me, and not just because it had saved my life.
“Creepy psycho blasted me with some paralyzing gas. I managed one shot. After that I’ve got nothing until Edward and William rescued me.”
“Marie is quite taken with William,” LaRue put in. He’d spent most of the night letting Jo and me talk.
“I’m glad.”
“Me, too,” Jo quipped. “I’d love for her to be distracted.”
“Anyway, what’s your side of the story?”
“Oh, mine’s just as boring as yours.” Jo rolled her eyes. “I was asleep when I started dreaming of being paralyzed, mutilated bodies, and torture. Woke up scared out of my mind and realized I was in yours. I called Edward, who was already out looking for you and gave him directions.”
“I’m still amazed you could do that.” I didn’t bother to disguise the awe in my voice.
“You saw the street sign. You saw the house number. You were just too panicked to realize it.”
She changed the subject to where we were going tonight. LaRue had dressed me in an open-backed shirt with sleeves that ended in a restrained ruffle and tight black leather pants. It all fit me perfectly and covered the metal bands. I was impressed he’d guessed my sizes right and bought something I liked, but a little worried about the gesture. When I got a chance, I planned on asking Calvin if LaRue bought all their clothes.
Calvin had chosen to go into the city alone tonight. I was ninety-nine percent sure he’d end up with Tina again. We’d barely started a friendship but I wished he had someone better waiting for him. I pushed the thoughts aside—maybe Calvin liked married women. Like I’d told my client, you never knew what someone’s idea of fun was.
We pulled up at the studio gates and security waved us through. An actor walked by with blond highlights and I thought about Ted. He was home, happily ripping into his walls to be positive all the bugs were out and adding in some counter measures of his own. He’d been wonderful about everything.
My body tingled when I remembered it all. I was itching to get this done and get back to him. Now that the danger had passed, William was staying in town and Ted’s great big bed was available again. I hoped to spend hours, if not days, there in the near future.
We pulled up to a stop and Samuel opened the car door for us. Jo left first and LaRue’s eyes stayed locked on her backside as he followed her. I was surprised when he turned to offer me a hand out of the car without saying anything seductive. LaRue being on his guard put my head on swivel. There wasn’t much worth it. The building in front of us looked like all the others on the backlot—steel formed into a half circle disappearing into the earth. I wasn’t impressed, but it made Samuel nervous. Jo stayed relaxed, curious about the studio, but quiet. We’d been waiting just a few minutes when Jeremy pulled up.
“Hey,” I said as he got out of a very shiny sports car.
“Hey sis!” His greeting was annoyingly chipper but I forgave him. “Who’s this?”
“John LaRue,” I introduced, knowing better than to give LaRue’s Christian name to someone he didn’t know. “And you know Jo.”
“Miss Josephine, I’m so sorry about all the trouble.” Jeremy’s voice was the right combination of awe and apology to keep LaRue appeased despite the car accident and death threats. At least that’s what I thought I was getting from him when they shook hands. It might have been something flirty. Watching Jeremey get the full LaRue treatment might be fun, even educational.
“Can we do this?” Samuel interrupted, bitter.
LaRue silenced him with a look.
“I can’t get inside,” Jeremy admitted with a shrug. “I’ve never been able to. That’s why I asked Liz to—”
“Elisabeth,” LaRue corrected, winning a bit of love from me. Jeremy hadn’t earned the right to call me Liz yet.
“Uh, yeah. I asked her to find me a vampire.”
“Not just any vampire,” Samuel groused. “I got in once but got carried out. I’m not sure I want to try it again.”
The five of us were standing in a nearly deserted backlot. The chances of him getting caught again were damn slim but I guess despite the perfect healing, his experience had left some scars.
“I’m not surprised,” Jo said. “The place is crawling with magic.” She stepped forward and put her hand on the door, feeling something the rest of us couldn’t. She traced that invisible line of energy up the sides and finally pushed a little. The door swung open, but she stopped. “Want to try it?” she asked me.
I went to the door jam, but once I got there, the whole thing felt pointless. Going inside wasn’t going to prove anything or change the world. I wasn’t scared, or worried, just bored with the situation. Jeremy’s history had been revealed. Samuel was safely alive, well, undead again. There wasn’t anything I needed inside, so why bother?
My back leaned against the cool metal of the car before I realized that’s how it worked.
Jo winked at me. “Neat, huh? It doesn’t stop you from going in—it just makes you not want to. If you fought, it would get nasty, but otherwise you just go somewhere else and forget about it.” She turned to Samuel who’d gotten noticeably paler since she’d opened the door. “Salt?”
He handed her a small burlap sack full of it. Jo bent down and poured it just so, forming bizarre symbols. As the first pictograms came into view, the contents of the building became clearer. Where I’d seen only heavy darkness, now I could make out shelves holding glimmers of metal and gems. By the time she’d finished the fifth design, the building looked a lot like the interior of the prop room where I’d found Samuel. Wooden shelves ringed a room that was much smaller than I’d first thought. Instead of a regular back lot sound stage, the building resembled more of a backyard shed, maybe ten feet wide and eight deep. It was stuffed, though—full of things that gave off a little buzz of magic. A clock ticked backward, a dozen bottles filled some murky substance, a whole set of jars holding weird powders. The place was like a dime store magic shop but all of it was real.
“Come on in.” Jo stepped over the salt without a second thought. LaRue walked without blinking, while Jeremy and I hesitated but made it. Samuel came last, clearly not wanting to go inside. He practically hopped over the salt.
“This is the one, right?” Jo held up a stone cut like a diamond the size of her fist. “It held your soul.”
Jeremy nodded, not able to speak.
“It was purple when I saw it,” Samuel growled from the back of the room by the door. It was surprisingly small inside. We were almost crowded, but I didn’t think that’s why he held back.
“It was, but now it’s clear.” She looked reassuringly toward Jeremy. “Washed clean by the blood of someone who—”
“What?” I demanded. If Gina’s blood had been wiped over that stone—
“Chill, metaphorically washed. You put someone’s soul in the stone, and they become a little interchangeable. Jeremy stops aging, because stones don’t age, which is great but if anyone ever cut the stone...” She let her voice trail off. “Anyway, to break the spell, you need someone’s true love, the magic of that emotion, with its passion and willingness to sacrifice, washes away everything else.”
“Seventy years ago, that seemed pretty simple. May I?” Jeremy held his hands out for the stone and Jo gave it to him. She was casual; he was careful.
“You needed Gina to marry you?” I asked him.
“No, I wanted Gina to marry me. I know how rare it is for a someone to fall in love like that these days. People are more suspicious, more cynical. They don’t expect love to last forever. I figured if she married me, I’d at least get twenty years before she noticed I wasn’t aging.”
/>
“What would have happened then?”
“The studio would have faked my death. They’ve done it before. They’re good at it. Someone decided decades ago that I had the right face and a knack for acting. I should’ve paid more attention to what I signed but the idea of not having to be scared or die was pretty tempting…for the first few decades.” He gave the stone back to Jo and reached in his pocket for a velvet pouch. “And to make sure no one else gets caught in the same trap I’m getting this cut into a tiara for Gina.” He lovingly tucked it away and then looked a little nervous. “That’ll be safe now, right?” he asked Jo.
“Totally cool.” She waved his worries away with one elegant hand. “The stone isn’t connected to you anymore. Cut it, break it, display it, whatever. But that also means you lose the perks. You’ll feel cold again, get beat up again, start to age, all that jazz.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He smiled and waved a hand at the treasure trove of magical goods. “The studios have a lot of shady deals like this, using magic to make money and not caring how it hurts people. I’m glad I’m done with it.”
“Is there anything else we need?” Samuel sounded strangled from his spot by the door.
“Oh yes,” LaRue replied, his voice silky and seductive. “Where is it?”
I didn’t have to ask what the it was, I just followed Samuel’s nod. The crucifix was small, a foot high, maybe half a foot wide, made from shining gold. Jo took one look and couldn’t look away. Samuel did the same.
“If you could, Elisabeth,” LaRue spoke, turning away from it. I wondered what it did to all of them, because for me it didn’t do much. I’d seen prettier crosses at church.
I got it off the high stand, wrapping my fingers around the cool metal. A sudden sense of overwhelming peace filled me. Calm and warmth came through every pore. I thought, though I couldn’t be sure, that the bruises on my arm started to fade. I watched them heal for a second and then, remembering the doorway and how it’d made me feel, I reluctantly put the cross away. LaRue had given me a heavy leather satchel to hold it—one Jo had already decorated with another set of symbols. Once it went inside, the three of them came back to normal.
“So, anything else?” Jeremy asked.
“Not for us,” I answered, hoping I was right. “You?’
“Just this.” He tapped the stone. “Thanks.”
Before I could tell him it was no problem, he hugged me. A stupid brotherly hug, but one I wasn’t ready for. I read his emotions as he touched me—cheerfulness, a bouncy joy borne from freedom. I smiled and relaxed into the hug, happy with the way things had ended up.
Thank you for reading!
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About the Author
Rachel Graves has lived in a cursed town and taken far too many ghost tours. A brush with death left her with a burning desire to finally write the spooky, sexy mysteries that lived in her head and eventually led to her membership in the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.
A voracious reader, Rachel consumes at least 70 books a year. If you need a recommendation, consider following her on Goodreads. Despite being an introvert, Rachel loves attending conventions like DragonCon and interacting with readers online. She often neglects her website (http://www.rachelgraves.com), counts down to Halloween all year long on Instagram, and would love to hear from you.
Also by Rachel Graves
Elisabeth Hicks, Witch Detective
Dead Man’s Detective
Hollywood Dead
Missing, Suspected Dead (Coming Soon)
The Death Witch Series
Under a Blood Moon
Fire in Her Blood
Blood, Dirt, and Lies
The Mermaid and the Murders (Monster Beach)
Hollywood Dead: Elisabeth Hicks, Witch Detective Page 29