by Catie Rhodes
“She wants to possess me again?” My heart beat a staccato pattern against my breastbone. Two more ravens joined the first. They stood in a row next to the table watching me. “And do you even see these ravens?” My words came out in a shout. Part of me hoped the birds would take off at the noise, but they didn’t. They kept watch as though they planned to go report what they observed.
Mysti turned in the direction of my gaze and squinted her eyes. “Only very faintly. They’re here for you.”
“Are they going to take me away?” Half-remembered myths about dark colored birds escorting spirits of the dead into the next realm clawed their way into my thoughts.
“Peri Jean. Take a deep breath.” Mysti closed one cool hand over mine.
I did what she said, unable to keep my gaze from darting to the birds. Five more had joined in. One raised its wings at me. Was it the same one from Long Time Gone?
“Another deep breath. Now hold it for a count of four.” Mysti’s strong fingers clamped down on mine to get my attention.
I obeyed.
“Let the fear drain out of you. This is nothing to be afraid of. Some would consider it a wonderful gift.” Mysti’s soothing voice teased at the tension, shooing it away. “Now, I want you to listen to me. Are you ready?”
I nodded. She patted my hand and let it go.
“Priscilla Herrera wants you to take on her mantle. Obviously, she’s going to require it before she’ll work with you.” She sat silent and still, patient as always.
“What’s a mantle? Like the shelf over a fireplace?”
Mysti nodded to let me know this was a good question. “The shelf over the fireplace is a another mantel. Spelled differently and everything. The phrase is ‘take on your mantle.’ Familiar with it?”
I thought it over. “I’ve heard it used to mean taking on a job or responsibility.” I glanced behind me at the gathering of ravens behind me and back at Mysti.
“Good. That’s close.” She drained her coffee cup and poured another. The caffeine had chased the murk out of her eyes, and she sat a little straighter. “I’ve told you a little bit about Petunia Leblanc, the lady who trained me to use my magic?”
I nodded. Mysti mentioned the woman in tones most reserved for a beloved and respected grandparent.
“‘Tunia taught me everything she knew. Her own kids thought it was ignorant, backwoods superstition, but she wanted to pass it on to someone. She saw the magic already in me and knew I could learn.” Mysti, more like her normal self with the infusion of caffeine, leaned across the table. “You inherited your power. Death gave me mine, but power is power. People get the spark in different ways. And the spark is valuable.”
“What does Petunia have to do with this?”
“When ‘Tunia got older and saw the end of her days coming, she called me to come sit with her. Her own kids couldn’t be bothered. Over that last week, she told me how she became such a powerful witch and healer.” Mysti took my hands again, maybe to keep me from running away. “You see, ‘Tunia’s grandfather was the one who taught her. When he died, he passed his power on to ‘Tunia. She wanted to pass her mantle on to me. That’s what she called it, a mantle.”
I jerked my hands away from her and swung my legs over the bench, ready to run from whatever Mysti had to say. I didn’t want to know any more, not about Petunia, not about Mysti, not about Priscilla Herrera. This whole thing was racing down a forbidden highway. I froze at the sea of ravens milling around behind us, feathers gleaming deep purple in the sunlight. There had to be a hundred of them. They covered most of the memorial park.
“Peri Jean, you will not run away from this, not until I have my say.” Mysti plucked at my arm.
I swiveled around to face her and leaned over the table until our noses almost touched. “Don’t tell me you don’t see them.”
Mysti craned around me. Her tan turned the color of chalk, but she pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. “They’re dim for me, but I see them. You’re not going crazy. But them being here means this is something you need to know. Can you accept that and listen to me?”
I turned away from the ravens. The idea of trying to walk through the sea of birds horrified me. I didn’t want to feel them peck at my legs or to risk the possibility of stepping on one and feel its body crunch beneath my foot.
“‘Tunia and I did a simple ritual, which didn’t do much more than let both our intents be known to the power of the universe.” Mysti took a deep breath. “I was with her the day she died, right there at her hospital bed holding her hand. Her mantle passed into me right then.”
“Is she inside you, calling the shots?” My voice broke on the last word. I peered into my friend’s soft eyes, trying to see an old crone in there. All I saw was the same woman I’d come to know and love over the last couple of months.
Mysti put her hand over mine again and gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled and shook her head. “Of course she’s not. It’s all me in here. Now, if you asked me if I knew how to do a few things I didn’t before—just knew—I’d have to tell you yes. But I’ve only seen ‘Tunia’s spirit one time in the ten years she’s been dead. She visited only to warn me not to take a job that would have gotten me killed.”
The world spun around me, the colors too bright and the air too crisp. The sound of my heart hammering thundered in my ears. After everything Priscilla Herrera had done to me to get her way, how could I agree to do what Mysti suggested? There was no way I trusted Priscilla not to hurt me. I searched for a legitimate sounding reason not to take on Priscilla’s mantle.
“Priscilla’s been dead for over a hundred years. I can’t go back in time to the day she was hanged and take over her power.” Fear continued to pump through me, cutting raw trenches in its wake.
“I’ve been thinking about that for a while now, and—”
“You knew about this?” I half rose from my seat, and the ravens cawed at my back, their voices swelling in my head until I wished it would crack open to relieve the pressure. My knees gave way, and my butt hit the concrete bench.
“I suspected after the first couple of times you tried to contact her.” Mysti licked her lips. “I needed you to reach the conclusion she was choosing not to speak to you on your own.”
I shook my head, unable to digest this new scrap of insanity.
“Once she understands you’re willing to take her mantle into you, she’ll show you what to do.” The corners of Mysti’s eyes crinkled. “She’s pretty good at knowing what’s in your mind.”
“I can’t do this.” I barely heard my own voice. Mysti seemed to hear fine.
“I didn’t expect any other reaction from you, and I’ve got something for you to think about.” She took a battered old book out of her purse. “This grimoire belonged to ‘Tunia. In it is the most powerful banishing spell I’ve ever encountered. We can use it to banish Priscilla Herrera and bind her from contacting you ever again.”
I opened my mouth, ready to do it right then.
She held up one hand. “If you banish Priscilla, you’ll close yourself off to a world of opportunity. You’ll never become who and what nature made you to be.”
“What if I do it—take on the mantle—and wish I hadn’t? Can I give it back?” I stared hard at Mysti.
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Do you ever regret taking on Petunia’s mantle?”
“Nothing’s ever going to be one hundred percent roses, Peri Jean.” Her gaze stayed on my face. “That’s what life is—a ride-at-your-own-risk proposition. Take your chances and go from there.”
“But all I want to do is find the treasure so nobody else will get hurt.” I waited for Mysti to agree with me. Her face gave away no emotion. She simply listened. “I don’t need Priscilla Herrera’s mantle.” Or did I? Part of me wondered how it could benefit me.
“Life is full of hard choices.” Mysti, seeming to read my thoughts, winked. “Fortunately, you have time to think this one over.�
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“Isn’t there any other way?” I held my hands open on the table between us, begging her to give me a magic bullet. “What if I figure out where Priscilla Herrera’s buried on my own? I could get the spelling stones that way.”
“How will you do that?” Mysti folded her arms on the table.
“Griff. He’s a grave dowser. A damn good one too.” The truth was, I didn’t know a good grave dowser from a mediocre one, but I’d seen Mysti’s boyfriend, Griff, do amazing things.
“You’d have to get Griff an approximate location. Remember what you had to do in Nazareth?” Mysti spoke calmly, the voice of reason.
I knew she was only trying to help but still wanted to choke her for being so logical when I needed her to just agree. “But let’s say I could find the approximate location and Griff agreed to help. What then?”
“I can’t give you an answer. Priscilla has proven herself to be a temperamental spirit. She might let you, and she might not.” She leaned forward and leveled her gaze on mine. “But don’t you understand? This—taking on her mantle—is a sure thing.”
“I can’t.” I glanced behind me to check out the ravens. They were gone, save for one. It cawed three times and flew away. I faced Mysti again. “I just can’t.”
She nodded and stood. “I need to get back to Louisiana. Maybe get a few hours rest before we have to shoot again.”
“Are you mad at me?” I tensed up and waited for the worst.
She threw back her head and laughed. “I will never be mad at you for doing what you think is best for you. I’m your mentor and advisor, not your ruler.” She pulled me into a hug. “Think about it?”
“I will.” But I wouldn’t. There was no way I’d let any part of Priscilla Herrera into my body. The woman was mean and spooky. Mysti and I walked to our cars and drove off in separate directions. As soon as Mysti’s car disappeared from my rearview mirror, I started brainstorming.
Mysti never said it would be impossible for me to remove the curse from the treasure without taking on Priscilla’s mantle. All I had to do was figure out where her corpse was buried. The first step was talking to Hannah Kessler, the biggest history buff and research nerd I knew. We had a girl date that very evening and could go on a fact-finding quest as easily as we could binge on junk food and watch frothy movies.
3
I left my forty-five-year-old Chevy Nova parked in the tiny parking lot off the museum’s loading dock, used my key to get inside, and climbed the endless stairs to Hannah’s fourth-floor loft apartment. A stitch of fire formed in my side, likely from the strain on my cigarette-seared lungs. I climbed the last flight of stairs and stood clutching my side and gasping. Hannah opened the door to her apartment before I recovered enough to knock.
“Where the hell have you been all day? I went out to your house and it was empty. And unlocked.” A frown creased her face.
I stepped inside her apartment and went straight for her kitchen, where she kept her high-dollar espresso machine. I flipped it on and waited for it to grumble and grind its way to ready. The long day was whipping my ass. “I need to talk to you about Prisc—” I cut off mid-question.
In the kitchen’s bright lights, I noticed Hannah’s outfit for the first time. Her pencil skirt and wide, black belt went beyond chick flick night and a junk food binge.
“Am I keeping you from a date? Because those sure look like date clothes.” I sipped my double shot of espresso. If Hannah had a date, I’d talk to her in the morning about this. Home and sleep sounded like a good alternative to talking about the new crop of crazy in my life.
“I need a favor.” Hannah bit her lip and shoved her red curls off her shoulder. She fingered the jeweled clip holding her hair to one side. The more fiddling she did, the worse I knew it was. I didn’t want to get involved in one of Hannah’s fiascos tonight.
“What is it?” I worked to keep my expression neutral. Hannah’s favors had a tendency to end up looking a lot like one of those prankster reality shows.
“Remember Jay Harris? The gorgeous guy we met at the library fundraiser last month?” She smoothed down her tight top, running her fingers over the buttons to make sure they were all fastened.
I shook my head.
“You said he dressed like a man who wanted to be a girl and speculated—loudly—on whether he got his body hair waxed.” She narrowed her eyes at me.
“I do remember Jay.” I snapped my fingers.
“We’ve been chatting online for a month, and he finally asked me out. But he needs a date for his buddy.” She danced foot to foot, her tall red high heels clacking on the reclaimed wood floor and making it creak. “So I need you to agree to go on a blind date.”
“Gross.” I ignored the way her face fell. “I haven’t been on a date since Dean dumped me. I don’t want to go on one now.” I rinsed out my demitasse cup in the sink and prepared to leave. I’d go back to Long Time Gone. Wade would scream and yell over what Mysti wanted me to do, but he’d definitely have ideas for an alternate plan of action. “I’ll catch up with you another time.” I hurried for the door.
Hannah kicked off her shoes and ran, her long legs covering the few feet to the door before I could get there. She leaned against it, her arms spread wide.
I struggled with her, but she slapped my hands away. I gave up and pointed one finger at her. “Harridan. You are a harridan.”
“It’s time to pick yourself up and try again.” Leaning against the door, both hands behind her, she reminded me of the star of some corny fifties woman-in-danger movie.
“I don’t want to try again.” I reached for the doorknob.
She blocked me with her hip. “You want to be celibate the rest of your life? Is that it?”
“Who said I’m celibate?” I widened my eyes. See how she liked that one.
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “Who? Wade?”
“No. He just wants to be friends.” My skin flushed hot for no good reason.
“Good. You’re better off not fooling with him. He’s trouble. So who is it then?” She relaxed her guard on the door, probably too interested in pumping me for information to worry about me running away.
“A lady never tells.” I considered shoving her out of the way and making a run for it but knew she’d catch me on the stairs.
“You’re not a lady. Who?”
“Corman Tolliver.” I twisted on my feet, more skeeved out about the notion now that I’d said it out loud. What the hell was I doing? Corman wasn’t even a nice person. Never again.
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose and made lemon lips. “Don’t you want to meet someone nice? This guy I’ve got lined up is so sweet. Good looking too.” She took a deep breath. “Pleeeeease.” She dragged the word out so long it could have been an opera.
Still, I said nothing. Anything even remotely resembling getting back on the dating horse scared me. That son of a bitch bucked and bit. Besides, I’d really be better off figuring out what to do about Priscilla Herrera’s latest round of demands.
“If you don’t, I’m going to call Dean and tell him you miss him.” A smile quivered at the edges of Hannah’s lips.
“You wouldn’t dare.” I wished hard for a cigarette. “Because I don’t.”
“I will too. I’m sick of watching you mope around like a sad puppy.” She grabbed her cellphone off the stack of suitcases she used for a coffee table. “Maybe getting back together with him is what you need.”
I snatched the phone away from her and sank down on the couch. Did I miss Dean? The short answer was yes. We were wrong for each other in about a thousand ways, but having a boyfriend to bring me flowers or listen while I talked about my day helped so much. Didn’t mean I wanted to start over, to train a new man to listen to the woes of my life. Especially not tonight. Things were too crazy. What if the ravens come back? “Look, I just don’t feel like it.”
Hannah glared at me. “Give me one decent, logical reason why.”
Because things ar
e getting crazy again. Not quite ready to drop a doo-doo sandwich all over Hannah’s date night, I glanced around her little loft apartment.
The sight of the custom woodwork—the window seat, the cabinets, the crown molding—made my throat tighten. My friend Chase Fischer built it all. Michael Gage killed him just like he killed my cousin Rae. The day’s events came crashing down on me. The tears formed and streaked down my face before I realized what was happening.
Hannah glared at me for a few seconds longer but came to sit with me on the sofa. I told her about trying to contact Priscilla Herrera and instead getting pushed into that awful vision starring Michael Gage as the murderer. I told her about seeing the spider ring at Long Time Gone, describing how it disappeared right in front of me. Then I started telling her what Mysti said Priscilla wanted me to do. Hannah’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh, sweetie, what an awful day you’ve had.” She patted my leg. “I had no idea. I wouldn’t have given you such a hard time.”
“I don’t want to take on her mantle.” I stared at Hannah, expecting her to vehemently agree. She just stared. I held out my hands. “It’s too irreversible. I hoped we could try to research our way into figuring out where she’s buried. But you’ve got this date planned—”
“Forget about the date.” She shook her head. “I’ll call Jay and tell him you’ve got a personal issue you need help with. We’ll figure this out.” She scrolled through her phone, shoulders rounded, wilted inside her pretty get-up.
The back of my neck heated. She was willing to give up something fun just for me. How much of a selfish jerk could I be?
“No. I should go. You’re right about me moving past Dean.” I sure didn’t want people thinking I wasn’t over his arrogant ass. Or worse, thinking I wanted him back. “We can sort out this other mess tomorrow. Besides, a real date might do me some good.”