“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I asked, trying to place him.
He smiled. “Not yet. But you will.”
I drank my tea as I pondered that. If I was back in Los Angeles, I would have pegged him as an actor. There was something so familiar about him. And kind of creepy at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m currently under a male moratorium. I have way too many men in my life right now.”
He smiled, flashing deep dimples and unnervingly sharp, white teeth. “Unlike them, I have all the patience in the world,” he said, winking at me. “I’m willing to take a rain check.”
Outside, the sky darkened and lightning flashed. Thunder hit so hard and so close, the windows of the small diner shook. I turned, halfway expecting to see a crack in the glass.
What in the world was going on out there?
There was no way it was warm enough to rain. And I had never seen an electrical storm in winter.
When I turned back to the table, the stranger was gone.
Chapter 8
I hurried home to tell Gus about the strange guy at the restaurant and the weird lightning storm. When I got there, Gus was out in the back yard, laying on a blanket on the snowy ground. He was bundled in a parka and ski mask, and surrounded by a giant circle of jar candles, pushed into the snow.
As I got closer, I noticed Gus’s eyes were closed and he was humming and waving his gloved hands.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Weather magic,” he said, opening one eye. “Either I thaw Grundleshanks out in the house, or I need warm weather.”
“Wait until summer.”
“Bite your forked tongue. Patience is not a good color on me. I want that toad bone and I want it now.”
I sighed. “You do realize that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, right? That’s got to be even more massive when it comes to weather.”
“Hush, woman. You’re interrupting a genius at work.” He sat up. “Would you tell Michaelangelo his ceiling mural could be mistaken for graffiti? Or DaVinci that his helicopter plans would anger the Gods?”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s got to be a twelve-step program somewhere to wean you off your ego.” I looked around “Where are the dogs?”
“They were distracting me. So I took off their ridiculous winter wear and put them in the house. Hats? Really?”
“I didn’t want their ears to get frostbit.”
He snorted. “Good thing you’re having a baby or you would totally turn into one of those people who dress up their pets and make them pose for pictures.”
I debated kicking him. “At least I’m not a public menace. You seriously think it’s a good idea to bring summer into the middle of winter?”
“If I pull it off, you’ll be the only person in this entire state complaining.”
Somehow, I had my doubts about that. “Does that mean you were responsible for that freak lightning storm this morning?”
Gus grinned, pleased with himself. “See? I knew I could do it.”
“That was weird,” I admitted, impressed. “Did you see it?”
“I wish. I was a little preoccupied causing it.”
“On the other hand, it could have just been an odd coincidence,” I said.
“No such thing. Meaningless coincidence only happens to mundane humans. That was a talented witch tweaking the threads of Fate, pinging divine synchronicity and bringing serendipity into play. Now move along and let the witch do his work.” He laid down, closed his eyes and returned to his humming.
I snorted but did what he asked.
* * *
I meant to go back outside and check on Gus again, but after spending most of the day cleaning the house, I just wanted to sit and rest for a bit.
I curled up on the couch, in front of the fireplace. I was so toasty warm and comfortable, that I totally fell asleep reading the latest six-hundred page Stephen King novel.
I was in the middle of a very weird, icy-cold, watery dream when a loud crash woke me up.
I jumped up from the couch, my heart thudding. The Dobies, who had been sleeping next to me, immediately alerted.
While I had been asleep, the fire had gone out and night had fallen. The moonlight coming in through the window highlighted the ghost of my Aunt Tillie. She was sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. The puppies softly growled at her.
“You may want to go check on that,” Aunt Tillie said, indicating the back door with her head. “Sounds like Captain Sparrow out there, is in trouble.”
I bolted for the back, pulling on my coat as I ran.
* * *
When I got outside, the jar candle had sunk into the snow and it looked like the snow was glowing, with merry little flames dancing just under the crystalized surface, in a giant circle.
But I couldn’t see Gus anywhere.
“Gus!” I hollered. “Gus!!!”
There was no response.
The back yard was still in ritual space. I could feel the energy humming.
I took me minute to find him. He was sprawled out in the middle of the circle, half-covered by snow, half-covered by a blanket.
I cut through the circle and rushed to his side.
He was unconscious and his breathing was shallow.
Despite his winter wear, his skin was freezing cold to the touch.
At least he was still alive.
* * *
I dragged Gus between two of the candles, into the house.
When the puppies saw us, they gave happy little yips.
But those yips soon turned into whines as we got closer.
They slowly backed away, growling.
I shook Gus, trying to wake him up.
But there was no response.
It was like his body was there, but whatever it was that made Gus who he is, his essence, had vacated the premises.
And he was cold.
So cold.
I tossed all the blankets I could find on him and then used a starter log to get a fire going. But the warmth from the flames seemed to glide right over him, without touching him.
It was like Gus was encased in a block of ice, just like Grundleshanks had been.
Chapter 9
The puppies growled from underneath the couch.
Gus’s skin and lips were turning a light shade of blue. I put my hands on his face, to try and warm it up.
I was immediately hit by an intense cold, like I’ve never felt before.
Tendrils of frost snaked around Gus’s skin and creeped up my hands, freezing my fingers.
I gritted my teeth and ignored the pain. I concentrated until I found the golden thread of energy that extended from Gus’s body to his spirit and followed it out into the ethereal plane.
That’s when I realized that energetically, he was still connected to the circle in the yard.
That must have been what the weird rolling head image had been about this morning. Gus’s weather magic had obviously been a colossally bad idea.
It took all the strength I had to break through the thickening frost and wrench my hands off his face.
My fingers were painfully cold.
I could see my skin starting to turn blue.
I looked around for something I could use to cut Gus from the circle, before he sucked me into whatever he had been doing. My gaze landed on a ritual sword that Gus had made and mounted on the wall.
Gus worked a lot with the Faery realm and if there was one thing the Fae didn’t like, it was iron. Fae energy was like gossamer threads on the wind, or a spider web, twinkling with dew. Iron, on the other hand, directed, blasted and cut energy. Nothing annoyed the Fae more than humans blasting energy around, reconfiguring or destroying the Fae’s carefully laid work, or forcing their portals to slam shut.
Which was exactly what I was going to do. I was going to use the sword to slam that circle down fast, sever the working and shut the portal to the Faery r
ealm.
But when I tried to take it down off the wall, the sword slipped out of my useless grasp and clattered to the floor.
Damn it!
I put my hands as close to the fire as I dared, to thaw out my fingers. But the blue color was spreading from my fingers up my hand, to my wrists.
The sword’s hilt end was slightly off the ground, so I pushed on the edge of it with my foot. As it went down, the blade went up enough for me to slide my arm underneath it. I stabilized the blade and hilt between my forearms and elbows, and slowly stood up.
I didn’t want to risk dropping the sword, so I carefully hurried outside to power down the space, reel Gus back in and call an end to whatever hellish rite he had started.
* * *
The back yard was still glowing, a sea of flames lighting up the snow. I picked my way through the candles, to where I had found Gus and prayed I was doing the right thing.
While I hoped that when I cut Gus’s connection to the rite, it would bring him back, my fear was that cutting it could strand him in the world of the Fae.
But I had to do something. Turning, so that the sword moved in a wide circle, I chanted:
“Red threads and black threads, white threads and grey.
Spirit of Gus return, as fast as you may.
Gold, silver and bronze, threads of spirit and soul.
Gather Gus’s heart and head, back where you belong.
Back to blood, back to bone.
With the song of this sword,
and my Will alone,
This rite is done.”
As I brought down the circle with the sword, the candles whooshed out, and the intense, burning cold released its grip on my fingers. I drove the sword deep into the snowy earth and felt the circle’s energy collapse and get sucked down, into the ground.
* * *
I ran back into the house, my heart racing. Gus was right where I had left him. Next to the fireplace, completely unconscious.
My heart skipped a beat. Please, tell me I didn’t screw that up.
I turned on the lights, but nothing happened. We must have lost power at some point.
I walked over to Gus. In the firelight, his face didn’t look as blue as it had before. That had to be a good sign, right?
I laid down on him, on top of the blankets, trying to warm him up with my body, rubbing his arms, his face.
His skin was ice cold and rigid.
“Come on, Gus. Get back here,” I pleaded.
I pressed closer into him, holding my breath, looking for signs of life.
I felt for a pulse.
But he was still.
So still.
Corpse still.
Chapter 10
Oh, hell! I ran to the desk and fumbled for the phone to call the paramedics.
No dial tone.
Damn it. The phone was tied into the electricity. Where was a rotary phone when you needed one? Where was my cell phone?
I quickly emptied out my purse, in the circle of light by the fire. The cell phone was dead. I had forgotten to plug it into the charger.
I had to get Gus back, quick, before he suffered the same fate as the phones.
But from where?
Where had he gone?
Did I still have time?
Or was it already too late?
In my desperation, I could feel magic building up in me, like electricity. I rubbed my hands together, faster and faster, concentrating and building the power, until I could feel it, like a physical force, between my palms.
I directed the energy at him. “Gus, I command you, by the power of the Dame of the Crossroads, you return to me this instant.”
Nothing. There was no response.
I thought it through as quickly as I could. If Gus was asking winter to take a holiday, he would have gone to the Winter Queen, or to the Callieach, to bargain.
“To the Winter Queen of the realm of Faery, I apologize for this intrusion. Kostas Yianni Andrakis, I humbly request your spirit be released. By blood and bone, by womb and tomb, return here to me, return home.”
I could feel a small sigh, a release of tension in the Web, but Gus still wasn’t back.
Damn it.
By now, my hands were buzzing with power.
“Gus, you son of a bitch, you get your ass back in this body now, or I’m dropping the toad in the lake and you’ll never get that bone.”
I clapped one hand on his forehead and the other one I slammed down on his chest, as hard as I could.
Gus’s body rocked from the shock, as electrical currents sparked and coursed through him.
What the hell?!
I let go of him and looked at my hands.
That had never happened before.
I looked back at Gus.
His nostrils fluttered.
He was breathing.
He was finally breathing.
“Thank you, Lady,” I said to the heavens, feeling a huge wave of relief wash through me.
I touched Gus’s face. It was still cool, but that was a huge improvement over covered in icy frost.
And this time, I was able to detect a slow pulse.
I bent forward, warming his cheeks and nose with my breath and hands.
Finally, he stirred and groaned.
“What did you have for dinner? Garlic sardines with a side of sauerkraut?” He said, turning his face away from mine.
I laughed, relieved, and sat back.
Gus had returned.
“No, but that sounds weirdly good. I might have it for a midnight snack. What the hell happened to you?”
“Why did you stop me?” He asked, frowning.
“You were unconscious. No, wait, unconscious doesn’t even begin to describe it. You were beyond that. You weren’t freaking breathing. Your heart wasn’t beating. I thought you were a goner.”
“I beg to differ. I had momentarily vacated the body, is all. I’m sure my systems slowed down to protect my organs.”
“You were covered in ice.”
“I was working.”
I smacked his arm, irritated. “You say working. I say, three seconds away from calling an undertaker. You’re lucky you didn’t wake up in a body bag.”
“If you ever think I’m dead again, get that verified by a doctor before you do anything irreversible. Like with a stethoscope and an EKG machine.”
“You’d better not ever do this again, okay? My heart can’t take it.” And then I smacked him some more.
“Owww. Stop beating me, woman. I had to go there. It was the only way I could negotiate with the Winter Queen. Besides, you got me back.”
“Barely. You scared about three years off of my life span.” Finally, curiosity got the better of me. “So, what was it like?”
Gus grinned and sat up. “A lot like outside, but without roads or houses. Just acres of land, covered in snow and ice. Massive forests, but it’s perpetual winter, so the only green comes from pine trees. All the rest of the trees are bare, their limbs covered in snow. And her castle… is this glorious monument to winter, made entirely of ice. But it’s like a living thing. Even in the moonlight, it sparkles like you wouldn’t believe. It’s gorgeous.”
“Let me guess—you got handsy with it, didn’t you? That’s why it started converting you into an ice sculpture?”
Gus looked so guilty, I knew I was right. That’s the nature of the Otherworld. When you reach out and touch it, it can reach out and touch you right back. Although, usually not quite so dramatically. But it has its moments.
“I have to say, since we moved out here, the magick has been—in general—off the charts. Color me impressed. The weather may suck, but the leylines are buzzing with power. We’re both evolving to something that’s way beyond normal. It’s an owl, it’s a broom, it’s SuperWitch!”
“It’s not us. It’s Themselves.” I said, pointing at the sky. For witches, the term ‘themselves’ covered a lot of territory, from deities to faeries to fallen angels. “I don’
t know what’s going on, but the Veil between worlds seems to be pretty non-existent out here.”
“It’s this place,” Gus agreed. “I love this place. If we could pick it up and move it to Los Angeles, it would be absolutely perfect.”
“Preaching to the choir. I was thinking that this morning.”
“Do you think you could talk to the Goddess of the Crossroads about that? You seem to have a good relationship.”
“Are you kidding? I’m sure She’s racking up some kind of scoreboard, every time I have to call on Her to help. It’s not going to be so good when She calls in those chips.”
The lights flickered and came back on. Gus stretched and sat up. “Do we have any whiskey left? I could use a drink.”
“You?” I snorted. “I’m the one you put through hell.”
“You have a point. Consider it payback for the hell you put me through when you moved out here.” He looked at my belly and raised an eyebrow. “Chocolate milk?”
I sighed and nodded. “Extra chocolate. Double marshmallows.”
Gus walked into the kitchen, while I sat next to the fire and fretted. He had really scared me. Especially after the visions I had been seeing lately. When I checked the Web (of Wyrd not the Internet), that black cloud that had been dogging him, was covering more and more of his light.
I could feel that he was getting deeper and deeper into something dangerous, but I couldn’t quite see what it was. The only thing I knew for certain, was that whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Chapter 11
By the time Gus came back with a hot cocoa for me and a hot toddy for himself, the puppies had finally crawled out from under the couch and were laying down next to me.
When my heart rate returned to normal and I could sip my drink without feeling like I was going to drown, I was ready to talk.
“So, after everything you just put me through, how did your negotiations turn out?” I asked.
“We’ll have to wait and see. Weather magic isn’t an exact science, you know.”
“Is any magic ever?” I shivered as the winter wind buffeted our cottage.
As the gust crested in power and howled, a quiet voice wrapped around me like an icy-cold serpent.
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We're In Trouble! (The Toad Witch Mysteries Book 2) Page 4