by Ann M. Noser
I grimace. I hate even the thought of puking. “It must have been quite a shock for him.”
“Oh, he bounced back fast. Within a day, he was poring over your awful witchcraft Book trying to figure out how to bring you back so you could free Charlie. We were all trying to help, but none of us knew what to do.”
A wave of possessiveness rushes over me. “Are you telling me that Kevin has my Book?”
Mike flinches at my tone. “No. Your neighbor Phoebe does.”
“What? Why is she involved?” I run my hands through my hair, wanting to rip it out.
“Don’t complain—she’s been a lot of help.” He tosses the ball, and the dog gets up to lumber after it.
No way am I getting jealous over this. No. Way. Okay, I am. I want my Book back. “She’s not that great. She mostly just gets in the way.”
“You’re crazy. She was so nice to my family. She was full of ideas about how to get you back, although none of them worked.”
I throw up my hands. “Why is it okay for her to be a witch and not me?”
Mike shakes a finger at me. “Phoebe’s careful. You’re not.”
“What do you mean? I always do my research.”
Mike scowls. “You don’t realize how terrible you looked in that hospital bed. Head-to-toe bruises, broken fingers, and cracked ribs, not to mention the internal injuries. You should’ve seen your mom’s face, wondering if you’d ever come out of the coma.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “How are my parents?”
He frowns, avoiding my gaze. “Your mom’s a mess. She’s got way too much to deal with.”
It hurts to breathe. “Did you tell her that I’m a witch?”
“No.” He pauses. “We didn’t.”
“Good.” Because that would be the worst thing he could do to me.
He rubs his temple. “No. Not good. Because now she thinks you and Charlie were dating and that he was abusing you.”
“Oh, crap.” My stomach lurches. I’m seriously going to get sick.
“What happened?” Mike asks. “I mean, Father Joe could tell you were possessed, but he’d never seen a case like yours.”
I sigh, and the skinny old dog takes snuggles close at my side, dropping the ball to the ground. I tangle my fingers in the dog’s soft fur. “When I helped with the murder cases, instead of watching what happened to the victims, I lived it. I got beat up, choked to death, and then stabbed.” My forced smile feels like a grimace. “I’m like a cat with nine lives.”
Mike’s face pales. “You’re insane. No one else would allow this to happen to them.”
“Yeah, I know.” Can’t argue with the truth.
“Why didn’t you quit when you started getting hurt?”
“That’s what I was attempting to do that night at the park. First I went to Walker’s house and interrupted his hot date to tell him that I couldn’t help him with cases anymore. I tried to explain what was happening, but never really got the chance. The voices kept stopping me. Then I decided to destroy the Book of Shadows before I returned to Father Joe for an exorcism, but obviously that plan didn’t work very well, either.”
Mike’s eyes widen. “Charlie had no idea what was happening to you?”
I squirm. “Um. Not really.”
“That ‘hot date’ must be the infamous ‘female eyewitness’ to your so-called ‘violent argument’ right before your attack. No wonder Charlie’s in trouble. The press is making a huge deal out of this, using some stupid ‘corrupt police officer’ angle. It’s crazy. They claim he set the fire to cover up your attempted murder.”
I feel faint. “This is worse than I thought. How am I going to fix this?”
“Beats me.” Mike stretches his legs out in the sand.
The old dog struggles to rise and gimps to the edge of the ocean to take a long drink.
“Poor thing,” I say. “I wonder where it came from.”
Mike snorts. “You’re more worried about that sick, old dog than you are about yourself.”
“Well, who’s going to take care of it way out here? It could starve to death, and it’s so skinny already.”
Mike puts a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t we focus on the real problem here? The night of your accident that tower of fire you conjured attracted a ton of attention. Emergency vehicles filled the park. Sirens wailed for hours. There was smoke everywhere. I felt bad leaving you, but I was scared what would happen if I was seen, so I ran off.”
My gaze flickers back to him. “I know. I saw the whole thing.”
“But you were either dead or unconscious. How could you see anything?”
“I saw it in a vision afterward.” While kissing Jake. Not that I’m going to tell Mike that part.
Mike grimaces. “Another vision?”
“Remember how I once told you that my dreams border on reality?”
His eyes widen. “Like that body on the highway to Madison?”
“Yeah. Just like that.”
He shudders. “You should quit this stuff, you know?”
“Not yet. I’ve gotta help Walker first, remember?”
“Things do look bad for him. Charlie was the first to get there. I hid in the woods and watched him race across the parking lot to you. He shook you, trying to get you to breathe, I think. Then he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you across the parking lot toward the other police cars. The other cops spilled out, drew their guns and yelled at him to put you down. But he wouldn’t let go. They had to force him. I couldn’t hear him through all the sirens, but Kevin said he kept saying you were dead because of him.”
I cover my gaping mouth with a hand. “Oh, no! Why would he say that?”
“Kevin spotted me watching among the trees. Of course, he didn’t realize who I was at first. He raced after me and I ran as fast as I could through the woods until he caught up and blinded me with his flashlight. That’s when he puked.”
“You must have scared the crap out of him.”
Mike gives me a weak smile. “Yeah, I did. Poor guy. He begged me not to leave, but I couldn’t let the other cops see me. I told him to meet me under the campus bridge and took off again.”
“Why would you pick there?” I grimace. “That’s where you died!”
“It was the only place I could think of on such short notice. And lucky for me, that’s where your friend Phoebe found me.”
I crush a shell in my hand. “Phoebe’s not my friend. She just lives downstairs in Abby’s old apartment.”
“I know. I stayed with her for a couple days.”
Now, she’s really not my friend. She’s one dead witch. “How could you stand it there? It’s everything you hate, all witchcraft books and tapestries.”
“You forgot about the awful incense.” Mike laughs. “But she was nice and helpful.”
“Helpful? Really? All she can do is predict the weather…” My uncertain voice trails off.
“She tried everything she could think of. Yesterday before daybreak, we snuck back into the park. Phoebe lit a fire and set candles and other witchy crap all around the same fire pit you had used. She chanted and cried out and all sorts of nonsense, but nothing happened. The last thing I remember was her getting frustrated and throwing the Book of Shadows down on the ground.”
Mike traces patterns in the sand. “All at once, everything started to fade. Phoebe screamed and ran toward me, but disappeared as she got close. Everything went gray, like I’d gone blind. When the ocean came into view, I thought Phoebe’s spell had screwed up, sending me away instead of bringing you home. But, like you said, it must’ve been Steve and not Phoebe who arranged all this.”
“Yep. Steve’s in charge, all right.” I reach in my pocket for the letter. “I haven’t read this yet, but he told me to give it to Walker.”
“Steve’s obsession with his murder has gotten out of hand. It’s all he talks about, and he’s bossing everyone around.”
“Yeah. That’s what Jake said.” I flush as I say his name.
“They were fighting as I left. I could hear them.”
“I can believe it.” Mike pauses. “Jake cares a lot about you, Emma.”
My face burns. I blame the turtleneck.
“He must’ve found out that Steve had you sent back. Don’t worry. I’m sure Jake could take him in a fight. Steve’s all show, you know. He’s actually kind of weak.” Mike chuckles. “On the other hand, Jake’s pretty built…”
My cheeks are really burning now. “What are you saying, Mike? Don’t play some warped game of matchmaker with me. Besides, I’ve screwed up everything where Jake is concerned, but it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is fixing this mess with Walker.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Mike stands to stretch. “But I can’t sit still anymore. Wanna walk along the shore with me?”
As we meander along the beach, Mike picks up a few stones and skips them across the water. The dog gimps after us. We remain silent for a while, listening to the waves caress the beach. Not talking is probably the safest thing we can do, since we always seem to hurt each other.
But there’s more I need to know, so I ask, “How long have I been in a coma?”
“A whole week. That’s a long time, Emma.”
Oh dear. “How bad is it to be in a coma that long?”
He shrugs, then his eyes widen. “Something’s happening to me. What’s going on?”
His image starts to flicker, like a TV station with poor reception.
I grab for his arm, but my hand swooshes through empty air, like he’s not even there. “Mike? Can you still hear me?”
He fights to speak as he fades away, his image blinking on and off before me. “Be careful, Emma. There’s going to be a battle.”
“A battle?” My mind floods with painted warriors from Braveheart, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t what he means. “What are you talking about? What kind of battle?”
His voice grows faint. “It’s… just… beginning.”
“The beginning?” The beginning of what? “Then why does this feel like the end?”
Mike is a shadow now. He’s almost gone. How many times is this guy going to leave me?
“Tell Mom… good-bye.” He disappears as the sky rips in the distance, flapping like a curtain.
My heart aches after he’s gone. I miss him already.
A spine-tingling howl carries on the wind and raises the hairs on my arms.
What now? I spin around to find the source. Squinting, I spot two figures on a far off cliff. The Creature and the Faded Witch standing together.
Watching me. Why are they here? Am I supposed to go to them?
Before I manage a step, the Golden Retriever perks up its ears and lopes off in their direction. As the dog runs, its arthritic gait transforms into an athletic sprint, and the thinned coat sheds its gray to regrow in golden waves. Halfway down the beach, a youthful dog swings back to me with flashing black eyes.
Are you coming? it seems to ask.
I finally recognize the dog as Nani-does that mean Jake’s here? If he is, then at least I’ll have a chance to apologize.
I race after the dog, but the sand slows my steps. It hardly feels like I’m moving.
A loud splash from the dancing waves draws my eyes to the shoreline. The waters swirl in a hypnotic pattern, emitting a low-pitched gurgle.
At my feet, the purple-blue waters churn.
“Emma!” I hear my name, but don’t recognize the voice.
Who’s calling me? Where are they?
An invisible force drags me to the water’s edge. The waves transform into cold hands and yank me into their wet embrace.
I drown once again.
anked into a vacuum of black churning water, I’m entangled by curtains of seaweed. I struggle to breathe, fighting to reach a faint light in the distance. I swim past more coral reefs and brightly colored fish. Drawn deeper into the sea, I scramble through a forest of ragged rock before falling through an opening covered with seaweed.
What if I don’t get there in time?
The fish disappear. I am alone. The world holds still. Silent.
My ears pop with a sudden pressure change.
I gulp stale, metallic-tasting air.
Three blurry figures hover overhead.
A man’s loud voice bounces off the walls. “Deliver us from all sin, from the snares of the devil, from lightning and tempest, from everlasting death!”
Water splashes my face.
“I command you, unclean spirit, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, to depart, you seducer, full of lies and cunning, foe of virtue, persecutor of the innocent. I adjure you, profligate dragon, to depart from this woman…”
More water strikes my face, clouding my vision and choking me.
“Stop it!” I croak, wiping my eyes and face.
The dark figures lean closer.
“We did it! She’s awake!” Claire’s worried face comes into focus. “Look. Her bruises are fading.”
“I can’t believe it worked.” Mrs. Carlson clutches a Bible in her hands.
“What’s going on?” I flinch at the sight of Mike’s mom just inches from my face-she hates me. She hates me. My head spins. Claire and Mrs. Carlson waver in and out of focus.
Father Joe steps forward. “Welcome back, Emma.”
“How did you know where to find me?” I whisper.
Father Joe holds a Bible, cross, and a bottle of holy water. “I read about your accident in the paper and came to finish what we started.”
“You came to the hospital to perform an exorcism?” I scan the room. “Does Mom know about this?”
He clears his throat. “Uh, no. We thought it was best.”
“Good.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s keep it that way.”
“I even told her Mike was my nephew instead of my son, because… well, you know.” Mrs. Carlson glances at the floor, as if ashamed.
I turn to Father Joe. “You know about Mike now, too?”
“Yes.” He clears his throat. “I recognized him from the pictures at his funeral. There was no denying it was him.”
“And you’re okay with this?” What a relief. I’d hate to lie to a priest.
“Not at first, I wasn’t. And I still have trouble believing you raised all those people from the dead. Exorcism training didn’t prepare me for this. But I’ve taken a vow to assist those in need.”
“So you’ll help me?” Now I’m really asking for help. What a change.
He flinches, a worried crinkle across his brow. “Oh, dear. You’re not asking me to help you with some witchcraft spell, are you?”
“No! Of course not! I just need to get out of here.” I tug at the tape holding what seems like a hundred tubes to my body.
“What are you doing?” Claire slaps my hands away from the IV lines.
“You don’t understand.” I rip off the rib brace. “I need to free Walker.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Claire shakes her head. “You’ve been seriously injured. You need to rest.”
Mrs. Carlson steps away from the hospital bed, her face paling. Is she going to faint? I better keep an eye on her.
“I rested enough on the Healing Islands.” I dismantle the finger splints.
Claire fights my efforts. “What are you doing? You need these things!”
“No, I don’t.” I flex and extend my fingers. “See. Good as new. I’m not even sore.”
Her eyes widen.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine. But I can’t just lounge around in here while Walker’s stuck in jail.”
“How do you know about that?” Mrs. Carlson asks.
I peel off the chest monitors. “Mike told me what happened.”
Father Joe collapses into a chair. “This is too much.”
BEEEEEP! BEEEEEP! BEEEEP!
I jump at the wailing alarms.
Claire rushes to silence the sirens. “Good thing I was a nurse. Sometimes it comes in handy.”
“You saw Mi
ke?” Mrs. Carlson asks in a hush. “Where is he? He didn’t show up today, and I’ve been worried.”
I tense. Every time I’m near this woman I feel guilty. “I’m sorry I’m the one who has to tell you this, but Mike and I switched back again.”
“Then he’s gone.” Her voice shakes. “I wish I could have said good-bye.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I flush. “And, again, I’m really sorry about that.”
“Please call me Julie.” She blinks back tears. “I hate that word ‘ma’am.’ Makes me feel old.”
“Makes every woman feel old,” mutters Claire, still adjusting the medical monitors. “The word should be outlawed.”
“What happened to him?” Mike’s mom-I mean Julie-asks.
“Well, Mike told me that Phoebe tried to revive me using witchcraft, but I don’t think she succeeded. I think someone else sent me back.”
“God?” Father Joe asks hopefully.
I cringe, hesitant to squash his optimism. “No. I’m afraid not. Just someone who thinks he’s God. I’m sure it was Steve.”
His eyes widen. “Is Steve another dead guy?”
“Yeah. He sent Mike and me to the Healing Islands. Which is why I feel so much better.”
“The Healing Islands?” Father Joe looks puzzled. “Is that Heaven?”
“Not really. Well, maybe it’s part of Heaven. It’s where things get fixed.”
He rests a hand on his Bible, as if for reassurance. “And you needed to go there?”
I succeed in removing the rib belt. “I’m afraid so.”
“Interesting. Because of the demons?”
There’s so much tape on me that they must’ve used a whole roll per limb. It’s going to take me forever to get out of here. “That and some other things.”
Father Joe fidgets with his Bible, averting his gaze. “I haven’t involved your mother yet, but I have to ask-what do your parents know about your interest in witchcraft?”
“My mother knows nothing. And let’s keep it that way.” I release myself from the rest of the tubes and scoot to the edge of the bed, clutching at my hospital gown. “Do I have any clothes here? I can’t go out dressed like this.”
Julie Carlson reaches into the small hospital closet. “Here they are.”
“Thanks.” I grab the clothes and head for the bathroom.