“So,” she started, setting the glass down. “Are you going to tell me what you did to yourself, or am I going to have to wait until our next appointment?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, trying to follow her and taking another swig of wine.
“You haven’t stopped fidgeting since you sat down. You opened up your wound, didn’t you?” she asked, eyeing me up and down.
“Yeah,” I answered, impressed. “But don’t worry. I re-stitched it myself.”
“Good God,” she said, rolling her eyes and downing even more of the deep purple drink. “You are going to be the exception to my Hippocratic Oath, aren’t you?”
“If I’m lucky,” I answered.
She grinned at me, leaning forward and giving me another peek down the front of her dress. This time, I was pretty sure it wasn’t a mistake.
“Wanna get out of here?” she asked.
That nervous sensation spiked in my chest. “Yeah,” I answered. “Yeah, I do.”
A paid check and a quick bathroom break for Merry later, and we were strolling out toward the piers.
The night was cold, and the wind coming off the river made it even colder.
Merry’s hair swept off into her face, and for a few minutes there, I forgot why I was here.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said, keeping pace with me, barefoot with our feet in the sand.
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking over at her.
“I feel like I haven’t shut up all night. You must be sick of the sound of my voice.”
“You’d be surprised,” I answered.
“Smooth,” she chuckled. “But seriously, I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”
“I’m an idiot who gets himself into trouble,” I answered, looking down at my gut and the remembering the searing pain as the knife went into it.
“Sometimes, and for absolutely no good reason, I get lucky with beautiful women who are way too good for me.” I shrugged. “That’s me in a nutshell.”
I shook my head, suddenly a little dizzy. Had I really drank enough wine to be buzzed right now? That didn’t seem right.
“Wow,” Merry said, coming to a stop and tilting her head at me. “She was right. This is taking longer than I thought.”
“What?” I asked, shaking my head again. My eyes were getting heavy. My head was spinning. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the tranquilizers in your drink. There were enough in there to take a horse down. You should be face first on the sand right now. I gotta say, I’m impressed.”
“Merry?” I asked, blinking hard and trying to get past the fuzzy layer that had covered my vision. “Merry, what’s-”
My phone dinged and I looked down.
The letters were blurry and shaking, but I managed to read the text somehow. It was from Andy.
The hospital called to check up on you. Uncle C, they said there’s no one there by the name of Meredith O’Dell. She doesn’t exist. Call me. You’ve got to get out of there.
“What?” I asked, stumbling backward. “Merry, what did you do?”
She shook her head. Or maybe she didn’t. I couldn’t tell as I fell to the ground, sand seeping into my mouth.
“Only what I had to, dude,” she said, her voice losing the light flirtatiousness it had carried since the minute I’d met her. “Only what I had to.”
11
I woke slowly and with a pounding in my head. I had been drugged before, more than a few times, actually. I had been zapped by magic, cursed by demons, and knocked over the head by Roman noblemen who wanted me out of the way while their city burned.
You would have thought that after all that, I’d have been too smart for an old fashioned roofie. But what can I say? I had always been a sucker for a girl in a low cut dress.
It was like Cain kryptonite.
As my eyes fluttered open, wincing as they adjusted to the light, I found that I was on the floor of a pretty sketchy looking hotel room. The shag carpet looked older than my actual age and was covered with miscellaneous (and disgusting) spots. The bed, which was sitting at the foot of, sat ridiculously low to the ground and was so lumpy that it made my back hurt even though I wasn’t lying on it.
My hands were tied to an exposed metal beam on the radiator, which was blasting heat so loud and furiously that the sound made my jaw clench up.
Meredith was at the window, pushing the ratty floral curtain back just far enough to look outside.
She sighed. Whatever she was waiting for wasn’t here yet.
I pulled on the ropes, but it was no use. I was stuck; tied up in a cheap hotel room by a woman I barely knew.
And not in the good way.
“You can stop struggling,” Merry said before even turning around. “It won’t do you any good. My father was a survivalist. I could build a boat out of knots and it’d sail. You’re not getting out of there.”
She walked toward me, no longer wearing the white dress. Instead, she was decked out in a no nonsense pair of jeans, tight black tee, and running shoes.
Her hair, framing her face in lose curls back at the restaurant, had been pushed back in an ‘all business’ ponytail.
“You can forgive a guy for trying,” I said, still pulling at the ropes. She was right though. The damn things wouldn’t budge.
Merry leaned down, turning off the loud ass radiator.
“I think it’s hot enough in here. Don’t you?” she asked, smirking at me.
“You’re a piece of work,” I answered, thinking about spitting at her.
“See. That’s why I didn’t wake you,” she said, plopping down on the bed in front of me. “I knew you were going to take this personally.”
“Personally?” I scoffed. “You drugged and kidnapped me.”
“I told you. I did what I had to,” she answered, pulling out her phone. “Now stop fidgeting. You’re going to rip your stitches open again.”
“You’re not even a fucking doctor!” I said, pulling so hard at the ropes that my entire body jerked. I didn’t loosen them, but on the plus side, my arm did brush against the white hot metal beam.
“See, you’re already burning yourself.” She shook her head judgmentally.
“Not a doctor!” I repeated, my teeth clenched together.
“That’s really beside the point,” she said, flipping through something on her phone and leaning back on the lumpy bed.
“What are you doing, Merry?” I asked, satisfied to stop trying to free myself or risk second degree burns. “How long have I been here?”
“A couple of hours, six at the most,” she said. “Which sucks, because I’ve got some place to be.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” I said, looking around the room for something I could use to get my immortal ass out of this.
“Oh you’re not,” Merry answered. “I can’t leave until she gets here.”
That piqued my curiosity.
“Any chance you’re going to tell me who ‘she’ is?” I asked.
“Sorry. Didn’t catch her name. All I know is that she wants you bad.”
“Did she happen to mention why?” I asked, a blossom of an idea sprouting in my head.
“I didn’t ask,” Merry said. “Though, I can’t imagine it’s your sparkling personality.”
“Oh come on,” I said, biting the inside of my lip until I tasted coppery blood. “I thought we were having fun.”
“No, you didn’t,” she answered, leaning up and eyeing me. “I’ve done this kind of thing before, Big Boy. I know when somebody’s playing me.”
I flicked my tongue, letting the smallest hint of blood touch the air; just enough to do the trick.
Though it was usually better for me to say the incantation out loud (given that was how I was taught it), I couldn’t risk Merry becoming suspicious. So I just thought it instead. I thought it hard.
Blood of the ages, bring forth the spirits of this house.
Spirits are a
hell of a thing; they’re sort of around us all the time, floating there, minding their own business.
A mystic back in the sixth century taught me that. He also taught me how to conjure them. It took sacrifice, the sacrifice of something old. Luckily, blood would do, and there wasn’t much in the world older than my blood.
I wouldn’t be able to talk to or communicate with whatever spirits happened to be floating by at the moment. It would take a medium for that. And it wasn’t like I was bleeding heavily, so the connection wouldn’t be too strong. But, hopefully I could make contact and that would be enough to-
“It’s cold in here,” Merry said, leaning forward, right over me, and flipping the radiator back on. “Watch your hands.” She winked.
Oh, I’d watch more than that. That radiator was about to get as hot as hell, and if kept my ropes pressed tightly against it for long enough, I could weaken them.
Thank heaven for frosty ghosts and science.
But, I didn’t need Merry getting wise to my plan. To that end, I was going to have to keep the lying bitch preoccupied. Let’s hope she wasn’t as good at knowing when she’s getting played as she thought.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, making sure the ropes were flush against the hottest part of the metal.
“What is what supposed to mean?” she asked.
“You think I was playing you?”
“I know you were,” she scoffed. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Callum. And nobody shovels that stuff better than me.”
“I just thought you were cute,” I lied, keeping my arms steady, but careful that none of my skin was touching the hot metal.
“That’s ‘cause I am cute,” she answered. “And the dress didn’t hurt. But that’s not what you were after.” She rolled her eyes. “All those questions about my family and where I went to school and crap like that. You were casing me for something. Even back at the hospital.”
“You mean the hospital you snuck into, pretending to be a doctor, so you could get close to me?” I countered.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t casing you too,” she answered. “Besides, hospitals are so easy. You grab a white jacket and a clipboard, and nobody asks you any questions.”
“What did you want from me?” I asked.
“What did you want from me?” She leaned forward and I hoped she didn’t notice the placement of my hands or the fact that the ropes were beginning to loosen.
She didn’t seem to, content to grin like she had me exactly where she wanted. Which was true… for the moment.
“You knew something about me,” I answered, deciding the truth was better at this particular moment.
“I know a lot of stuff about you,” she answered. “The witch gave me a packet when I agreed to the job.”
“You know about witches?” I asked, swallowing hard as I felt the rope start to give in a real way. “Are you one, or did the person who hired you tell you where to look for my scar.”
“Do I look like a witch?” she asked, shaking her head distastefully. In truth — though, some of them decided to amplify their style with Wiccan tattoos or ceremonial piercings — most witches just looked like ordinary, everyday people.
So, yeah. In a matter of speaking, she did look like a witch.
“And nobody told me to look for your scar. I saw it because I have eyes.”
She seemed confused by this, which told me that — while she knew about witches and probably other supernatural creatures — she didn’t know who I was.
But that left me back at square one. How could she see the mark?
“Who hired you?” I asked again, pressing the ropes harder against the metal and hoping this would do the trick.
“I told you. I didn’t get a name.”
“Then tell me what she looked like,” I said. “What did she say about me?”
“Look,” Merry said, standing up. “I’m not down for this. I don’t know what you did to this chick or what she wants with you, but I am not about to piss off some grandmaster witch, whose got enough power to strip the color from her own hair.”
Strip the color from her hair?
A recent memory flashed through my mind. The witch in the alley, the one who took the wolf’s wallet from the kid who stabbed me, she had white hair. That couldn’t be a coincidence. But what did she want from me? How was all of this connected?
“You look like a good guy,” she said, moving closer to me. “And when I said this was nothing personal, I meant it. If I had a choice in the matter-” She stopped short, composing herself. “Would it make it easier for you to know that I didn’t do it for money?” She shrugged. “And, for what it’s worth, I did sort of have a good time tonight, all things considered.”
I stared at her for a long time. The nervous sensation that had plagued my chest all night returned. Though, this time, it took a much more defined shape.
She turned away from me, heading back toward the window.
My eyes went wide. I had felt this feeling before. I felt it just the other night. It was what drove me out of the War Room and into that back alley.
Murder.
This white haired witch was never going to give Merry whatever she’d bargained for to get me here. For her trouble, my would be doctor was about to be killed.
I gave the ropes one more push, and mercifully, they snapped against the heat.
I jumped up, throwing the ropes from my hands and headed toward Merry.
She was still looking out the window, but spun around when she heard me rise.
The sensation in my chest was a burning now. This was happening soon. If I wanted to save myself and her (which was admittedly a big if), I was going to have to move quickly.
Merry’s eyes went wide when she saw that I was free.
“Oh you are good,” she said, actually grinning at me.
“Listen to me,” I said, hands clasping on her arms. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Oh, Big Boy,” she answered, chuckling. “It’s too late. She just pulled into the parking lot. Ding dong, the witch is here.”
12
“You’re not serious!” I said, pushing past Meredith and pulling back the curtain.
I didn’t see anything; no headlights, no car, not even a white haired woman with magic powers and a bone to pick with me.
“There’s no one here,” I said, turning back to her.
Meredith narrowed her eyes and looked back out the window. “What the hell are you talking about? She’s right there.” She turned back to me. “Look, I know you’re upset with me, and honestly, I can’t say I blame you. But-” Her eyes went wide again. “Wait, you’re not joking, are you? You really can’t see her.” She looked back out the window. “That’s spectacular!”
“Damnit! A cloaking spell,” I muttered, realizing what was going on here. I grabbed Meredith’s shoulders and spun her around. “You’re going to have to start believing me quicker than either of us would have liked. Because, thanks to your lying and this witch getting the drop on me, you don’t have a lot of time.”
“Me?” Merry asked, looking at me like I was insane. “I don’t think I’m the one you need to worry about.”
“She’s going to kill you,” I said as plainly as I could.
She looked at me for a long time. “Fuck you,” she finally said and went for the door.
“Look at me!” I said, grabbing her again. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
“I’m not the one they’re after,” she answered. “If she’s going to kill anybody, it’s you!”
“She couldn’t kill me if she wanted to. Nobody could. It’s a long story,” I said, reading the confusion in her face. “You, on the other hand, I get the feeling that you’re way more expendable than you think you are.”
Merry tried to pull away from me again, but I refused to let go. “Look at me, Merry! I am not fucking around here! I have an ability, it’s sort of like Spiderman. Do you know Spiderman?”
“Get your
hands off of me,” she said, but I didn’t let go.
Ignoring her, I continued. “But, instead of sensing trouble, I sense murder. Which, come to think of it, is trouble. So, you know, to sum up: I’m basically Spiderman and you’re basically dead.”
“What?” she asked, looking at the door.
“I don’t know what this witch promised you, but she ain’t delivering. She’s got murder on the brain, and you’re the subject of it.”
“I don’t-”
“She’s gonna kill you, Merry! She’s going to kill you tonight, right now!” I took a deep breath. “Unless you help me.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, shaking her head.
“Yes, you do,” I answered. “But, by all means, test my theory if you want. Go on out there. See what happens.”
She stared at me, her jaw tense.
But she didn’t move.
“That’s what I thought,” I answered. “Now, I need you to tell me what she’s doing. She should have been in here by now, and since I can’t see the bitch, you’re going to have to describe to me the sort of mischief she’s up to.”
Merry moved back toward the window, barely peeking out of it for whatever reason.
“She already knows you’re in here,” I said. “Just look for Christ’s sake!”
Merry shot me a withering look and then turned her attention out the window.
Where I saw absolutely nothing, it turned out that Merry saw a really interesting series of events.
“She’s got a lot of candles,” she said, her eyes trained on the parking lot.
“What colors?” I asked.
“Red, white, and black,” she answered. “No, wait. That might be purple. Or maybe navy.”
“Which one is it?” I snarled.
“I don’t know! It’s dark!” she yelled back at me.
“She drew a circle around herself in chalk,” Merry said, swallowing hard.
“Clockwise or counterclockwise?” I asked, grabbing her hand.
“I don’t know. It was already there,” Merry answered, looking at our intertwined hands and taking it as a warning. “Why? Is that important or something?”
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