I was a little startled when Lashonda walked into the shop alone. Was she both brave and foolish? No, I had no doubt that she was brave enough to do anything she thought necessary, but she wouldn’t come up against me without something else happening first.
“Can I help you?”
“No. You can help Carlos.”
I blinked, then turned to Ximena. “Watch the counter. I’m going to take five to talk to my friend.”
Friend was stretching it, but there wasn’t a better description. I walked out from behind the counter and motioned Lashonda to an out-of-the-way table. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“Sorry, your coffee just isn’t as good as Dunkin.” She slid into a seat with her back to the wall where she could watch the room. I hoped she wasn’t expecting trouble; I was having a hard enough time getting the needed work done for the coffee shop.
“All right.” I settled in across from her. “Why does Carlos need help?”
Instead of answering, she looked around the shop, a furrow between her brows. “This place feels like you. It didn’t before.”
“I warded it. In case anyone attacked me.”
She nodded, accepting my explanation. “Decent work. This might almost keep Dorothy out. Although some of us are arguing with her. Some places are getting better. She’s still angry that everything hasn’t gone back to normal, but I told her it’s clear you’re working at it, and she should give you some time.”
That was more than I’d expected. “Thank you.”
Her voice hardened. “Don’t get me wrong. If things don’t get fixed, I totally agree with her that you should be taken out. I’m just willing to give you a little time to do it.”
“Duly noted. Were you going to tell me what’s up with Carlos?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Do you know what Carlos does?” At my head shake, she rolled her eyes. “Typical. He touches dreams, affects those around him. Usually, he’s lucid dreaming, and he only does little things — easing the fears of the kids who have to go back to school or the wife who thinks her husband is having an affair although he really is working late to surprise her with a big anniversary gift, that sort of thing. Until lately.”
Her hands twisted on the table in front of her, and I resisted the urge to offer a drink again so she’d have something to do with them.
Finally, she looked back up at me. “The people around him are getting nightmares every night, leaving them feeling haunted and alone even during the day. And it’s spreading. I live three blocks over, and I’ve felt his touch the last couple of nights. I recognized it and barred him from getting in, but he felt different, darker and not in control.”
“So why not talk to Carlos about it? Or Dorothy?”
“He hasn’t been talking to anyone since the day we came here. Dorothy — well, like I said, some of us have been arguing with her. And she figured out I’m not a follower of Hekate.”
“That’ll do it.” I’d made the assumption that Lashonda had the same patron, that that as why she and Dorothy got along so well. Now I wondered who her patron really was, but it wasn’t important enough to pursue that question right now.
“So I came to you because the dream touch felt kind of like the city has of late.”
“I told you last week that I didn’t do anything.”
“Whatever. If I thought you had cursed Carlos, I would cheerfully run you over with a stolen car. But Carlos still feels tied up in whatever is going on, and if you are fixing it, I think you need to fix him.”
“Fix him instead of any of the places that have been laboring under this curse or whatever it is for a week or two now?”
“In addition, not instead. But maybe you could do him sooner?”
I wasn’t convinced I could summon enough power yet to even activate my hex app, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. She seemed sincere enough, but this could be a test.
“I’ll see what I can do. Should I stop by his work or home or what?”
“I’ll text him to meet me at Downtown Crossing for lunch. Even if he’s not talking to anyone, he never could resist free food.” Her teeth flashed white, an invitation to share the joke. I laughed lightly, grateful for the camaraderie, even if it would pass.
That moved up the urgency of the tea. Dammit.
“Okay, text me when he shows. I’ll come see what I can do. I’m not promising miracles, though.”
“Wouldn’t trust you if you did.”
As soon as she left, I set to work mixing the ingredients I already had on hand. I wasn’t going to meet both Carlos and Lashonda without at least a little power in my corner.
Carole’s hunch had been right. Opening me up did let in whatever ambient power was about. Even the drips and drabs that I received felt refreshing, the way I would imagine cool water in a desert to be on a parched throat. Not really a sensation that happened in Boston’s summer humidity.
I was still nowhere near a normal level of power when Lashonda texted me, but maybe I was strong enough to at least see what needed to be done. Maybe if I got some of the Sight with this, that would help, too. Telling Ximena that I would be back soon, I headed out, fervently hoping that Kendall wouldn’t drop in and discover I’d left Ximena on her own. At least we weren’t unduly busy today.
On the street, I could see more ghost wisps attached to people, and it occurred to me that there hadn’t been any on any of the customers I’d served. Did my ward keep such people out, or did it destroy the wisps on contact?
I felt Carlos and Lashonda before I saw them. They sat at an outdoor table, icy drinks in front of them, condensation running down the outside of the glasses. They stared at each other without speaking. I had to look twice to be certain it was Carlos; he had on khaki pants and a royal blue T-shirt that might have been the brightest clothing on the block. Lashonda saw me, and relief flitted across her face. Carlos turned around, scowling, looking to see what had caught her attention. His scowl deepened when he saw me, and he turned back to Lashonda, snapping something.
He stood up to go, but by then I was at the table, and I laid my hand on his arm. He felt abnormally cool, and he flinched as though my touch burned him.
“I don’t know what Shonda told you, but there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“When did you get the new wardrobe?”
He glanced down uncomfortably. “I’ve had this for a while. My mom’s always trying to get me to add a little variety.”
“Uh-huh. And how often have you worn that shirt before today?”
“That’s none of your business!” He glowered at me.
“First time, then.” I nodded over at Lashonda. “In case you couldn’t tell, she’s worried about you. How about we all sit down and talk for a few minutes to try to set her mind at ease?”
He was going to say no — I could see it on the tip of his tongue — but he glanced at Lashonda and his face softened. He didn’t want to worry his friend, which meant we had a chance at least to pull him back. Wordlessly, he pushed out the metal chair a few inches to make it easier to sit down.
Once he was seated, I grabbed another chair from a nearby table, scraping the legs against the ground as I positioned it so if Carlos tried to stand up again, he would find it awkward. The sun beat down on me, but the other two didn’t seem to notice, and I didn’t say anything.
“What do you want?” His tone had turned sullen.
“When did you start wearing colors?”
“I already told you that's none of your business.”
“Consider this a friendlier intervention than you people did for me.” Friendlier didn’t mean friendly. “You're acting out of character, and we need to know when it started. I'm afraid you're not yourself.”
“This is bullshit!” He pushed his chair back explosively.
“Stay.” Lashonda commanded him, and he froze in place.
I glanced over at her. She was rolling a bead between her fingers, one of the colorful clay beads she often access
orized with, but today I saw those colors danced above the surface of the bead, currents of magic bound until Lashonda invoked her will. Squinting, I could see the fine chains of color spiraling from the bead to bind Carlos to his chair, but it hurt to focus so closely. No doubt Carole and Maggie saw such things as a matter of course; for me, it was as new as talking to the trolls.
Carlos glared at her. “You didn't have to do that. What happened to together against anything that comes?”
“That went out the window when you hit me with a nightmare last night.”
Open-mouthed silence. “I didn't. I wouldn't. You know that.”
“If I heard those words at work, I'd be filling out paperwork for domestic battery. But yeah, I know that. You wouldn't, but you did. Which means…”
His shoulders slumped, the fight gone. When his voice came, it was barely more than a whisper. “I'm not myself. Someone else is in control.” Some of his fire came back, and he shot a venomous look my way. “That why you brought her in? To undo what she did?”
“I don't think she did it. If she hexed you, you’d be the one hurt, not everyone around you.”
“Yeah? Then what's wrong with me?”
They both looked at me for an explanation. I spread my arms to show I had nothing. But I had a suspicion.
“You live over near the Central T in Cambridge, don't you?”
And now they looked mistrustful. “How'd you know that?”
I sighed and gave them a carefully edited version of the truth. “You can talk to Maggie if you want independent confirmation, but there's a ghost in the area. With help, I managed to get rid of most of the rage and power fueling it, but it's still loose. I think it might have possessed you.” I hesitated. “That might be part of why you pulled away from me to begin with. I think it recognized me.”
“With help. From Maggie?” Lashonda narrowed her eyes and cut straight to what I'd elided.
“No.” I wasn't about to mention Haris.
I also didn't tell them how worried I was by the time frame Lashonda had given me. This had been going on for a few days — that meant the ghost had been trying to possess Carlos even when it had been locked up in the garage. And that other ghosts might also be affecting witches elsewhere in the city. Or even those just sensitive to magic. No wonder Hsien had given me a ward for the children. I pictured Gavin, Tina, or one of their cousins inhabited by a ghost, and I shivered.
The ward wasn't going to solve anything now, though. Trapping the ghost inside Carlos wasn't the answer.
I looked over at Lashonda, who was still fingering her clay bead, and an idea took shape. “You know how to bind things into clay? Bind power so it can't get out again?”
“I can't pull it out of someone else, if that's what you're asking.”
“I should be able to pull it out — like electricity, drawing it from high power, sending it to ground. But if we can't trap it there, it'll just jump into him again. Or you. Or me. Or wherever it thinks it can do more mischief. So I'm going to ask again. Can you bind it?”
“You can pull the power out of me?” Carlos still didn't trust me. When he put it like that, I didn't blame him.
“Not your power. Just the part that doesn't belong.” I hoped I could do that much. The tea helped, but I was still shaky about how much power I had.
“What if you're wrong?”
“If I'm wrong, my power will short circuit, and I'll be the one hurt.”
“I've only got your word for that.” He looked at Lashonda. “Would you trust her?”
Lashonda considered me for a minute before giving a sharp nod. “For this? Yes. Especially because she can't do the binding. If she screws up, as long as I don't lock you in, you'll recover.”
Carlos looked back and forth between us, then addressed her. “All right. I don't trust her, but I trust you. Keep an eye on her.”
Fine, whatever. I took a deep breath, reached out, and put my right hand on his arm again. It was colder, clammy even. With my left hand, I touched the bead that Lashonda held out. Closed circuit, with me as the wired connection.
I pulled on the familiar cold and wet sensation within Carlos, the remnants of the ghost without the power of the patron behind her. This time, there was no sense of drowning or hatred, just longing and cold and wet. The ghost was slippery, hard to hold, like a wave would be, but I wasn't trying to contain her, only channel her, which meant making her flow, like current — or water.
She tried to pool inside me, holding on to one reservoir since she'd lost her first, but the circuit was complete. Once in me, the power flowed to the bead, there to rest.
When I sensed the last of the ghost’s power leaving me, I nodded to Lashonda, so she would begin the containment before the circuit tried to flip like an AC line. I didn't see what she did, but a minute later, the power within the bead glowed dully, hidden by layers of protection. A drop of sweat slid off Lashonda’s face to hit the table, but she ignored it.
“Well?” she asked Carlos.
“I … I think I owe you both an apology. I didn't know that was in there.” He gave me a hard look. “There are more out there?”
“I'm working on it.”
“Let me know if you need help.” The words sounded like they'd been dragged from him, but I could tell he was sincere. “I owe you. A lot.”
“You owe Lashonda. She's the one who came to me.”
“I still owe you.”
“Me too,” Lashonda said. She rolled the bead holding the ghost between her thumb and forefinger. “Though having this to study might make us even.”
“Just don't let it loose outside a ward circle.”
She looked affronted. I'd overstepped, calling her expertise into question.
“Okay, you don't need me to tell you that. Just — I don't know if it can communicate with the others or what, and I don't want to see you hurt.” I stood up, picking up my chair to return it to its table. “Either of you.”
I'd stop at the florist on the way back to the coffee shop. Try some tea with the extra ingredients to see if that was stronger. Something told me I was going to need every bit of power I had to get through this.
Chapter 24
The florist — which was an Arctic temperature compared to outside — didn’t have any honeysuckle, but she told me if I went to a nursery, I should be able to find plenty. That was an idea — get a couple topiary plants to set next to the coffee shop doors, make it more friendly and draw in more passersby. Having access to the flowers for tea was a bonus that no one would ever know about. And they could be completely organic, without me worrying about what sort of pesticides might have been used on them. I pulled out my cell and jotted a reminder to stop at the nursery down the street from my parents after brunch on Sunday.
Noting the time, I wondered whether Clay had whisked Beth off to their weekend of pleasure yet. Not that I was going to call and ask — the last thing she would want would be me interrupting anything. I was sure when she called to check in on Sunday, she’d be happy to tell me all about it.
As I turned to leave, I caught sight of a familiar green sparkle near the cut flowers. It settled on the baby’s breath, shining brightly. Trying to get my attention? Not a flower that had been in Carole’s recipe, and I seemed to recall that the dried flower was poisonous. So … did I trust invisible, unknown magical creatures that wanted me to be as trusting as Alice? “Eat me.”
I took another step toward the door, and I distinctly heard the high-pitched “No!”
I glanced at the florist. “Besides filler in bouquets, what do people use baby’s breath for?”
“Baby’s breath?” She followed my gaze toward the cut flowers, but I was certain she didn’t see the green light. “Oh, you know — it symbolizes love, innocence, babies being born, freedom from corruption, all that sort of thing.”
Freedom from corruption. That sounded promising. Since I already had my phone out, I did a quick search in my browser. Non-toxic, and listed in several place
s as an edible flower. Probably whatever people treated flower arrangements with that made it poisonous, then.
All right. “I’ll take a couple sprays.”
I’d mix them with the tea blend and see if it worked, if somehow these flowers changed the effects I saw from the tea. If so, I’d probably pass the information along to Carole, and maybe she could give me some information about this green light that was following me.
When I got to the coffee shop, though, all thought of the tea slipped out of my mind. A line of customers streamed out the door, and I could hear Ximena inside, saying, “I’ll be with you in just a moment!”
Poor Ximena! I hadn’t expected her to be swamped while I was gone. I squeezed past the people in the door, murmuring excuses. Inside, I stopped in my tracks. While I had been gone, someone had come in, erected scaffolding, and started painting a mural on the ceiling and the back wall. So far, it was mostly base coat — maybe more than one layer in some places, shading light and dark — and pencil lines roughing out the mural, although some spots of color were evident as well. I didn’t think I’d been gone that long.
I looked at Ximena. “Who—?”
She shrugged. “I figured you knew. All they told me was that they’re art students, and after they finish, they want to talk to you about having a rotating gallery of art for sale here.”
Art students? Not even someone on my radar when I started looking into replacements. How much were they expecting to be paid? Worry about that later. Right now, I snapped a couple pictures of them in progress to upload to the coffee shop’s website — “Come see our incredible new look!” — and headed for the back room to drop off my flowers and wash my hands.
On my way back up front, I stopped in the kitchen and grabbed trays of sandwiches and some lemon bars to add to the cases. With this many customers, Ximena hadn’t had a chance to restock. As soon as I had done so, I started a fresh pot of hot water, then turned to the next person in line. “What can I get you?”
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