"We should leave," I said.
"What about the book? We can't leave it for another child to find," she said.
I looked at her, blinking my eyes. She made sense, but the feeling of embarrassment persisted. "I've been spelled," I said, realizing the truth of it. Turning toward the back wall, I cast my wizard's sight and looked down at my hands. The slimy green ichor that covered the book was slowly creeping up my arm. I tried to pull it off with my other hand and succeeded only in transferring an equal part.
I looked over to the book and realized every book on the entire six-foot section of the second shelf was dripping with the malevolent spell.
"What's wrong?" Gabriella asked.
"We need to leave," I said. "It's on me."
"What about the book?"
"It's not just this one, it's the entire section. It's too dangerous," I said.
"We can't leave it for other kids."
"We'll have to," I said. "Gabriella, it still has me."
Impulsively, she grabbed the book from the shelf. Immediately the spell started interacting with her hands.
"Damn it," I said. "That was stupid. I don't know how to remove that curse."
"Oh, toadstools and slime," she reacted, obviously not listening to me. "It's making me nauseous."
"Finis." I cancelled my wizard's sight and grabbed her arm, dragging her up to the checkout.
"Is this everything?" The clerk asked. I noticed he was wearing gloves.
"Why the gloves?"
"Books are a way of life for us. This way we don't allow the oils of our hands to spoil your treasures," he said, accepting my credit card.
"Convenient," I said.
He looked at me perplexed, but smiled and ran my card. "Are you going to join us for the book fair?" He pointed to a sign advertising a morning event in a couple of days.
"Yeah, I don't think so," I said and led Gabriella out of the store. "Where's that diner?" I pulled the tickets from my pocket and looked at the address. We were close and I turned quickly into an alley.
"Wait." Gabriella pulled on my arm, she staggered to the building next to us, leaned over and threw up.
I gently pulled the book from her hand and held her hair away from her face as her back spasmed in dry heaves. After a few minutes, she stood back up, steadying herself on the brick wall.
"Better?" I asked.
"The book. It wanted me to drop it," she said. "I thought I could resist, but I couldn't."
"Come with me," I said, wrapping my arm around her slender waist.
"We don't serve alcohol." The waiter sniped as we walked into the diner.
"Way to work for your tips, junior," I sniped right back. "We're not drinking; she's motion sick."
"Find a table. I'll be back in a few." He glowered at me and then bustled away.
The diner was relatively empty with only a few of the tables occupied. I led Gabriella over to a booth by the window, but changed my mind, grabbing the salt shaker and turning toward the back of the restaurant. Helping Gabriella back to the bathroom, I managed to snag three more shakers.
Once inside the women's bathroom, I made a beeline for the handicapped stall. If I'd had any previous illusions about women's bathrooms being cleaner than men's, they were at that moment dispelled. The problem was we didn't have time to be shopping around for a more suitable environment. Whatever the magic was, it was still having a profound effect on Gabriella.
Hardly able to bear the thought of my next actions, I pulled heaping wads of toilet paper from the industrial roll and wiped out the toilet's bowl as best I could and flushed it. Next, I pulled a similar wad of paper from the roll and jammed it into the hole, plugging the toilet.
Gabriella slumped to the floor, not quite unconscious, but woozy. With eyes fluttering and her head was rolling back and forth against the wall, her legs slid under the stall door. "Hold on Gabriella," I said. "I've got you." I pulled her back to a seated position after tossing the salt shakers into the bowl, without opening them up.
"What's going on in there?" A woman's voice asked, knocking on the door.
"My friend is sick," I said. "Go away."
"Perverts. I'm telling management," she said.
I ignored her and plunged my hands into the bowl, loosening the lids of the shakers and allowing them to dump out into the water.
"I'm sorry, babe," I said as I stood over her and lifted her by her armpits, guiding her hands into the toilet's bowl. With my knee holding her in place, I picked up the book and prepared to drop it into the makeshift porcelain cauldron.
I wasn't prepared for what happened next. An inhuman voice emitted from the book, starting as a whine and transitioning into an eerie howl. The book bucked in my hands and in my distraction, I released Gabriella who slumped to the floor, her jaw ricocheting off the bowl's rim. "Shit! Get in there, you little bastard."
A loud rapping on the door behind me could only mean someone in authority had been alerted to the 'problem' in the bathroom. "What's going on in there?" While I didn't much care, I did recognize the voice of the snotty waiter who already thought we were drunks.
I struggled with the kid's book-turned-bull and finally wrestled it into the water.
"I'm coming in," he said, rattling the lock on the door. I heard the deadbolt slide open, so I released the book with one hand for a moment and flicked it closed, jamming the heel of my boot into the door. I gave up all pretense of dignity and lay down on the book, forcing it into the bowl. Upon contact with the water, a final, desperate scream emanated from within the toilet and then all was quiet.
"I'm so sorry," I said as I gently pulled Gabriella from the floor, her eyes fluttering open as I did. I managed to lift her to the seat just as the door was pulled open.
"Security is on the way," the pissy waiter informed us.
"Get out, you pervert," Gabriella choked.
The waiter grabbed my shoulder, intent on rescuing the damsel. It was more than I could take - given the stress I'd been dealing with. I stood, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it as I turned into him and pushed him from the stall.
"She's talking to you," I said, releasing him as I pushed the door closed behind me. "Or do you not understand a woman's need for privacy?"
He sputtered, unable to form a complete sentence, finally throwing up his hands in anger and stalking out.
"How are you doing in there?" I asked, opening the door.
"Better …"
"Put your hands on your head, jackass," a voice commanded from behind me.
Damascus
The weapon the man held was a stun-gun. Its gray body and bright yellow lightning bolt where a barrel should protrude were dead giveaways.
"Hold on there, tiger." I said, raising my hands. "Nothing to get excited about."
"Step away from the stall," he ordered, lowering his weapon.
"Felix? What's going on?" Gabriella asked weakly.
"That idiot called security on us," I said.
"Move it!" The security guard demanded.
"Take it easy, buddy, unless you're going to shoot an unarmed man for helping his sick girlfriend."
"Step away from the stall," he continued, although less sure of himself.
I stepped toward him and he backed out of the bathroom allowing a second man in uniform to enter the room. This one held handcuffs.
"I'm just going to restrain you for our safety," the older man said in a conciliatory tone. "We got a report of an assault and have to follow through on it. If everything checks out, we'll have you on your way."
Firm hands grabbed my wrists and one by one my arms were twisted behind my back. I'd been cuffed a few times in my life and knew that it was painful if I resisted.
"Ma'am? Are you okay in there?" The second guard asked.
"Are you going to arrest me for needing to use the toilet?" Gabriella asked, her voice stronger.
"No, but we're going to ask you to come down to the station," he said. "We'll get this cleared up."
"We'll be right outside this door," he said, pushing me so I was forced to walk through the hallway and into the back of the restaurant's main dining room. The waiter caught my eye as he emerged from the swinging door, palming a large tray of food. His smug grin was interrupted when he tripped on seemingly nothing and the tray toppled back into him as he tried to steady it.
"Karma's a bitch," I said.
"That's enough." The guard pushed me forward, perp-walked me through the dining room, and steered me out the front door to his waiting golf-cart. The small vehicle was adorned with official looking stickers and a flashing light. He removed the cuff from one hand and locked me into a rear facing seat.
A few minutes later, Gabriella emerged followed by the first security guard. The fact that he walked several feet ahead, cheeks reddened, suggested that Gabriella had given him a piece of her mind on the way out.
"You'll need to ride up front," the man who'd cuffed me informed her as she sat next to me.
"As I explained to your friend, you're currently in violation of the law. You're restraining a person without cause," she said haughtily.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, but in that you were creating a public disturbance, we're well within our jurisdiction to remove you from the premises," he said. "I take it you're a lawyer?"
She gave him a short, unfriendly smile. "Good call."
"It's a short ride to the station where we can work this out," he said. The vehicle's electric motor caught and we started forward.
"Book?" I asked quietly.
"Trash in the bathroom. Best I could manage," she said.
"How are you feeling?" I'd like to have cast the planar view, but I couldn't due to the attention we were receiving from people on the street.
"Much better. How'd you know to do that?" she asked.
"Some old wives' tales are based in reality," I said. "That and I had a salt-water aquarium once and it kept blowing out my rings."
"I feel violated," she said. "That thing was trying to get in me."
"And here I thought I was going to get busted for giving you a swirly," I said, still worried about how pale she looked.
She chuckled as I wiped wet bangs from her eyes with my free hand. I was pleased, however, when my touch didn't sense any residual magic from the book. I couldn't imagine how the children who'd picked up those books must feel. Worse yet, I suspected they felt as Petaluma did – attached.
The cart pulled to a stop in front of a wooden building that was fashioned after a wild-west sheriff's station, complete with wooden porch and golden star on the front window. I flicked off the cuffs and handed them to the guard.
Recovering from their surprise, the two officers guided us up the stairs and into a more modern room than I'd expected, given the façade. A woman behind the counter looked up as we entered.
"She's in the interview room." The woman said without introduction.
"This way." A push in the small of my back wasn't unexpected and I walked through the opening in the counter that separated staff from visitors.
The hallway we entered wasn't long and with urging from behind, I entered a nondescript room with a stainless steel table. On the other side of the room, Thea paced back and forth.
"Shit, Felix. What are you doing?" she asked as I was pushed into one of the two chairs. "And Gabby, you don't mind if I call you that, do you? Is that toilet water all over your pretty blouse? Good thing you're wearing a matching bra, wouldn't want … right … not much to cover."
"Really?" I asked, annoyed by Thea's ability to insult Gabriella every time she opened her mouth.
Thea gestured to the guards. "Leave us,"
"Are you sure? He could be a handful." The younger of the two said.
"Felix isn't going to be a problem, are you dear?" she said in a falsely sweet voice.
"Why are you holding us?" Gabriella asked.
"Why are you asking about FBI agents?" Thea asked, ignoring Gabriella.
"What are you into, Thea?" I asked. "This isn't like you."
"You've always been naïve," she replied. "I'll ask again. How do you know about David Mulper?"
"I must have heard about him in the news," I said. "Madam Celise was just so much fun that I thought maybe she had the inside scoop."
"Celise is the real deal," Thea replied. "Did you figure that out? Drove me nuts for the longest time. It's funny, she had added all those smoke and lights so people could choose to believe she was a fake. And for the record, nobody knows about the agent you were asking about."
"We're leaving," Gabriella said, standing.
"Tell me before you go what you were doing in the book store?" she asked, flipping on a TV monitor hanging from the wall.
"What do you think?" I asked. "Looking for books."
She produced a remote control and un-paused a frozen picture of me in the bookstore rounding the shelf, eyes ablaze, confronting the small boy, Tobin. She allowed the scene to play out.
"Nice trick with the shield. You've really dialed that spell in," she said. "You know how few moms actually allow their kids into the occult aisle? And then you go and screw it up."
"I bought your book," I said. "How long have you been part of this?"
"Part of what? The mystical world? You know me, Felix. I'm not a joiner," she said.
"From where I'm sitting you are," I said. "Did you have anything to do with Luma getting her book?"
"That fat cow she calls a mother couldn't see the brilliant child for what she was," Thea spat. "She had more raw talent at nine years than her mother has to this day. That bitch was ruining her - all daffodils and roses. Damn it! The girl’s a necro and a fucking amazing one. Did you know it was Luma who sent that thrall to warn you off?"
"In Missouri?" I asked.
"Yup," she said. "Never seen the like before. She reached out nearly a thousand miles, plucked a host from the morgue and walked her out to your campsite - all from her bedroom. Did it talk to you?"
"That was Luma?"
"Fucking right it was," she said.
"How'd she know we were coming here?" I asked.
"Let's just say her loyalties are currently confused. And she might have overheard some things," Thea said. "It's no problem, she's a long play."
"If you hurt her, so help me," I said.
"What? You'll leave me battered and in the hospital?" she asked. "Sorry, lover. Been there, done that."
I sighed. She really knew how to punch buttons.
"You've been watching Felix?" Gabriella asked. "Why is that?"
"An old friend of his mother's would like to have a word with him. Let's take a little walk." Thea crossed to the door and knocked. When it opened, she spoke to the guard. "You'll accompany us to the temple."
"Cuffs?" It was the younger, surlier of the two guards who asked.
"Still doing that thing with locks?" Thea asked. When I didn't answer, she continued. "Cuffs won't be necessary."
"This is kidnapping," Gabriella said. "You're holding us against our will."
"Just figuring that out are you?" Thea asked. "Don't worry, you won't want to miss this. Apparently, Willum wanted me to make you understand that he's an old friend of Atronia's."
"My mother," I filled in for Gabriella's benefit. I found it interesting that now two different people were using her name as a lure.
The security office sat at the edge of Eppy Faire, blocked off by semi-permanent barricades to discourage pedestrian traffic into the actual town where the gypsies lived. With one guard in front and one behind, we were led out of the building, past the barricades and up a cobblestone street.
"Who … who …" An owl called from a nearby tree as we passed.
"That reminds me; is that crazy crow still following you around?" Thea asked as we turned toward a white clapboard church structure.
The sound of huge wings pushing against the air startled us into looking up. What appeared to
be a great horned owl crossed in front of us and sailed upward, landing conspicuously on the church roof.
"I still see her from time to time," I said. "What's your end-goal here, Thea?"
"Be patient," she said. "No sense having to repeat all your questions for Willum."
"How long have you been acolyting for him?" Gabriella asked.
"Acolyte. That's shit," she said. "We're partners. Been that way since we hooked up in college."
I raised my eyebrows at the time reference. I'd met Thea about the time she'd washed out of school. It had been me who introduced her to Judy. "Wait. You were with Willum when we …? "
We'd arrived at a side door to what had been referred to as 'the temple.' It seemed to have the basic architecture of most churches I'd seen, but lacked any symbols of Christianity or even Judaism. If a demon was involved, that made sense. The Star of David and the cross of Christ were both powerful symbols. I understood from my reading that demons and sub-demons couldn't reside on soil sanctified by the God of David.
"And immediately there fell from his eyes as if it had been scales." A man I recognized from my dreams to be Willum had opened the door and smiled welcomingly. He was dressed simply in a black linen robe with a light-brown braided belt pulled into a knot at his waist.
"Is this the road to Damascus?" Gabriella asked, annoyed.
"Ah, how delicious! A believer," Willum replied. "Please come in. And yes, the passage is appropriate for when a man learns of his true calling. But by all means, Althea, answer Mr. Slade's question."
He led us into the sanctuary of the old building. The pews still remained, but in place of the altar sat a chair that would better be described as a throne.
"To answer your question, Willum and I were friends before you and I met, Felix," Thea answered.
"What really happened the last night you were together?" Gabriella asked. "I refuse to believe Felix hurt you."
Wicked Folk (Witchy World Book 2) Page 11