by Melody Raven
Dead. Woman. There was a dead woman in her kitchen. Not just any woman either. Whoever this person was, she looked exactly like Gena. She even wore the same jeans and shirt Gena had walked Lady in earlier.
She pushed herself away from the body and the massive amounts of blood that surrounded it. She looked down at herself and saw where the dead woman had gotten her clothes. Gena wasn’t wearing any.
Before that fully registered in her mind, she noticed all of the red that covered the room. Judging by the large gashes in the dead woman’s arms and smears on her stomach, the red liquid was her blood.
And that’s when the smell hit her. The overwhelming copper she was all too familiar with from working at the hospital. Gena’s throat constricted in disgust. She lifted her hand to her mouth and saw it had gotten smeared in blood while she pushed away from the dead woman.
She couldn’t stay in the room any longer. She stood and ran to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and wiped her hands with soap frantically to get every last trace of the blood off her.
Thoughts rushed through her mind at a lightning-fast pace. Who was that woman in the kitchen? How did she get Gena’s clothes? Why did she have memories of Ryan attacking her, only to wake up next to a dead woman with the same wounds Gena remembered receiving?
As Gena reached for a towel to dry her now clean hands, she became entranced by her right palm.
The skin was smooth and clear with no marks on the skin, but that wasn’t right. As a child, she’d played in the woods near her home whenever the weather would allow. During one excursion, her foot had caught on a root and in the process of tumbling to the ground, she’d thrust her hands out to catch her fall.
A rusty nail that stuck up from a piece of wood strewn about the forest floor pierced her hand. Her parents had constantly warned her against playing in the woods alone, and she was afraid to tell them about the injury. She’d kept the wound hidden for three days before the infection was too severe to hide anymore.
Her furious father had rushed her to the hospital to treat her fever and inflamed hand. The infection and fever had been chased away by the antibiotics, but she’d been left with a scar to remind her of her own foolishness.
Now her hand bore no scar to remind her of the fall. The chill of the house crept into her. What was going on?
She grabbed her bathrobe off the rack on the bathroom door and she wrapped the terrycloth around her. Immediately, she felt a bit more normal, just being covered up.
She looked down at her now smooth palm once more when a strange thought struck her. The woman in the kitchen looked exactly like Gena and wore the same clothes Gena had worn earlier in the evening. Did she have a scar on the bottom corner of her right palm? It was impossible.
Gena cautiously approached the kitchen she’d previously run from. As the body got closer and closer, Gena realized the house was saturated with the scent of death. It caused her stomach to clench and she brought her hand up to cover her nose.
Every surface in the kitchen had some form of blood splatter on it. Ryan must have hit some powerful arteries in his haste, the nurse inside of her thought.
Gena carefully stepped into the room, trying to avoid any of the red liquid on the linoleum tile. She stopped at the edge of the puddle of blood that surrounded the woman. Her palm faced down, and Gena couldn’t see any scar from the angle she was at.
She tiptoed around the blood to her cabinets and grabbed a serving spoon from the top drawer. She bent next to the body and used the spoon to lift up the lifeless arm. It was heavier than she expected, but after adding extra force, the arm moved so Gena could see the palm.
Gena’s breath left her body. Staring back at her was the exact scar that was supposed to grace her hand.
She made herself look into the cold face of the woman. It was the same face she’d looked at in the mirror for the past twenty-seven years. When she bent closer, she even saw the healing remnants of a pimple that had shown up a week ago.
“This can’t be happening,” she said to herself.
Once again, Gena was up and running to the bathroom. This time she stared in the mirror intently, looking for anything different.
The same light blue eyes stared back at her. She took a fistful of hair and held it to the light. The color seemed the same as she remembered, but the length was different.
About a month ago, she’d gotten more layers added to her shoulder-length hair. Now it was all an even cut that hung a couple of inches below the shoulder.
Gena stared in amazement at the changed locks. Another realization struck her. Her skin tone had changed as well. Because of the frequent long walks she took with Lady, she got a lot of sun and tended to have a darker tan in the summer and a light tan in the winter.
Now her skin was paler than she’d ever seen it. “Shit,” she muttered. She looked out the bathroom door to the dead body. Her dead body.
If that was her body, then what was she walking around in? This couldn’t be natural. This was something other. This was something supernatural.
People don’t die and wake up with a brand new body. But why would this be happening to her? Nothing even remotely strange had ever happened to her.
The swirling questions in her head were too much to take. She had to deal with the immediate problems. The most immediate of those problems being that her dead body was lying in the middle of the floor and half of her house was covered in blood.
She was a law-abiding citizen, so she wanted to call the police and have them take care of everything. They would take the body away, recommend a cleaning service that deals with these situations and then arrest Ryan for murder. After that, she’d probably stay with her parents until she found a good place to live.
At this point, she’d kill for a hug from her mother. But none of that could happen. She couldn’t explain any of this to the police.
She was in so over her head. She grew up with a mother in pharmaceutical sales and a dad who worked as an engineer for a car company. What did she know about coming back from the dead or spells?
Spells! Joy’s sister’s job was making love spells. If anyone could help her with this mess, it was her. It was a half-day drive from her house to Hope’s shop in New York City. If she drove all night, she could make it by mid-day tomorrow.
Gena went to the bedroom to pack a small bag of necessities. Poor Lady was frantic when Gena opened the door. Gena knelt down and hugged the poor thing. She had no idea how much the dog comprehended about what happened.
Lady had surely heard Gena’s screams, and if Gena could smell the blood, she was sure Lady could as well. Gena stroked Lady’s soft brown coat until she calmed down and the trembling stopped.
Gena tucked Lady’s big head under her chin and held her tighter. The dog wiggled out of her grasp and gave Gena a couple of delicate licks on the face. For once, she didn’t push the dog away. It just felt damn good to take a moment and breathe.
But it couldn’t last. She had work to do.
Gena moved her head away from the attention, but one corner of her mouth curved up. Even if she did have a new body, it was comforting that Lady knew she was still Gena. “We have to pack,” said Gena to the dog. “We’re going on a road trip.”
The dog’s ears perked up at Gena’s voice, but Gena knew the animal did not comprehend the gravity of the situation. Hell, at this point Gena didn’t think she understood the gravity of the situation.
Hope would help her. Gena was sure of it. If Hope didn’t have a clue, at least she had connections she could use to investigate what had happened.
Gena quickly dressed. Her favorite jeans and newish tennis shoes were now ruined, so she was left with ratty old pants and tennis shoes with splotches of paint the same color as her bedroom.
It was going to be a long car ride with no sleep, so she had to make herself as comfortable as possible.
After dressing, she grabbed a backpack left over from nursing school and packed it with the essentials. She thr
ew in a few necessary hygiene products, another set of clothes and extra undergarments.
Not exactly how she’d like to pack for her first trip to New York, but it would have to do. When she had everything she thought she might need for a few days, she took Lady’s leash and led her out the back door. She tried to avoid Lady seeing the kitchen. Gena didn’t even want to look at that horrendous scene; she wouldn’t submit Lady to that.
As she put Lady in the car and opened the driver’s side for herself, it occurred to her that the only person who might have seen what happened was Ryan. If that was the case, Gena might never know the truth, because she hoped to God she never saw Ryan Stone again.
Ryan watched with disbelieving eyes as Gena got into her car. Was it Gena? He had no idea what this thing was.
One minute, he stared at Gena as the puddle of red got larger and larger and her white glow got dimmer. The next, there was a flash of light so bright it blinded him. When he could focus again, this abomination was there.
She looked like Gena, but he knew better. This thing was an imposter. Not even human.
Ryan refused to let this aberration get away from him, but he had a plan. He’d known she was fleeing when she loaded a bag into her trunk. After she turned to go back in the house, he made his move.
It was pathetically easy. The imposter left the doors unlocked. All he had to do was toss his cell phone under the passenger seat and hightail it out of the driveway before she came back.
The battery on the phone would last about thirty-six hours, so for the next day and a half, all he had to do to find her location was pull out his laptop and find somewhere with wireless Internet.
He thought Gena and he were meant to be together.
He’d been wrong. When he’d seen Gena glowing so beautifully, he’d assumed she was an angel. He forgot that the most attractive things were the most dangerous.
He thought she was meant for him, but he now saw the truth. He was put on this Earth to kill Gena Dodd. The next time, he’d make sure she stayed dead.
Gena made it as far as the ATM before she lost her nerve. She kept thinking back to the dead body in her house.
She didn’t know how long she’d be gone for. How long would it be before the smell became too much to bear? Joy had a tendency to stop by unannounced, and Gena didn’t want her calling the police. She’d have to do some cleanup before she left. Her stomach clenched at the thought of going near the mess again, let alone cleaning it, but she had no other choice.
She couldn’t call anyone to help her. Joy would be her first choice to call, but how would Gena even start the conversation?
How could she tell Joy about what Ryan did to her? Would Joy even believe her? Once Joy saw the dead Gena, she’d believe. But even if she got help, Gena couldn’t imagine scrubbing blood while Joy dragged a body into the backyard. It was too much to ask someone. Gena cared too much for Joy to put her through even a fraction of what she was feeling.
Set in her course of cleaning up on her own, Gena turned the car back in the direction of her house.
About a block away from her home, Gena’s heart sank. Though she couldn’t see the house from here, the ominous blue and red lights penetrated far through the dark streets. The police were at the house.
“No, no, no, no,” muttered Gena to herself. But as much as she denied it, life as she knew it was over.
There were two cruisers with lights flashing and an ambulance on the street. All the lights and commotion attracted a crowd gathered outside. All of her neighbors knew she was dead.
How was she supposed to come back from this? How could she prove she wasn’t murdered? Gena didn’t even know whether her fingerprints were the same.
For the first time since she died, Gena felt a tear roll down her cheek. There was no going back now. The Gena Dodd that she’d lived as for the past twenty-seven years was dead to the world.
Twelve hours later, Gena had to quickly refresh her memory of parallel parking. Parking spaces were scarce in Queens, and she'd driven around the block over five times before she found a spot close to the shop Hope worked in.
The drive had been long and exhausting, and at this point, all she wanted to do was get a hotel room and sleep for a week straight. Lady had slept the entire car ride and was wide awake as Gena let her out of her car.
While the dog got acquainted with the city smells, Gena walked toward Hope’s shop. It was mid-morning, but the sidewalks were still really busy and the roads had been atrocious. She’d nearly been sideswiped five times in her time in Brooklyn already. All she wanted to do was get to Hope and maybe get some answers finally.
When she reached the door, she hesitated. A part of her didn’t even want to know what had happened to her. She’d give anything to turn the clock back to a time before any of this craziness had come into her life.
But Gena was a big girl and knew there was no going back. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to Moon Shine. She didn’t know whether dogs were allowed, but she wasn’t leaving Lady alone on the street or in her car.
As Gena entered the store with Lady at her side, her nose was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of incense. Gena wrinkled her nose at the strong scent and looked at the shelves around her.
It was everything she would expect to see at a store catering to those believing in magic and otherworldly powers. She was surrounded by different sized crystals, candles, and lots of artwork of dragons and fairies.
As Gena reached the end of one of the shelves filled with various books, the clerk noticed her.
The woman was striking. She was probably late forties or early fifties, but she had gorgeous hair that hung down to her waist. The color was probably once a mousy brown but was streaked with gray and blonde from exposure to lots of sunlight.
She wore a large peasant skirt and tank top that showed off a toned physique. This woman could have stepped out of any of the pictures depicting fairies hanging on the wall behind Gena. All she was missing was a pair of wings.
The clerk got a bright smile on her face as she saw Lady. “You brought your familiar with you!” The dog wiggled in excitement as the woman got closer, but the clerk held up one steady hand, and Lady immediately sat down and was completely calm.
The woman sat down on the floor and stroked Lady’s fur. Gena was impressed. “You’re good with animals,” she said.
The woman looked up. “They make a lot of sense to me.”
“Lady isn’t a familiar, though. I don’t do, um, I don’t really do any of this.” She motioned to all of the occult items that surrounded her.
That earned Gena a strange look. “You don’t have to practice to know the magic of a familiar. Just the idea of cats and dogs being companions is fantastical. These predatory animals are bonding with you for life, even though you have so little in common and don’t speak the same language. Yet you can still understand each other. There’s a little magic in that.”
“I can see your point.” Gena twisted the leash in her hand. She’d only been in the store two minutes and she was already in over her head.
“So if you do not do any of ‘this,’ what has brought you here this morning?” asked the woman.
“Umm, I think I know someone who works here. Will Hope be in today?”
The woman raised a questioning brow. “You know Hope?”
“Well, I’ve never met her, but we have friends in common and I have a problem I’m hoping she can help me with.”
That got a crooked smile from the clerk’s lips. “Hoping Hope can help you? Well, she’s not going to be working today. But my name is Donna, and perhaps I can be of assistance.”
Gena wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Even though Hope was in all sense a stranger, she still felt a bit more connected to her through Joy. “Can you tell me the next day Hope will be here?”
Donna shook her head. “I’m sorry, but Hope is having some family issues and is going to be out of town for a few days.”
Famil
y issues? What was happening to Joy’s family? Realization struck Gena like a brick. She was happening. Hope’s sister’s best friend had just been found brutally murdered. It made sense Hope would comfort Joy.
“I need to speak with her before she leaves.”
Donna narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think she hasn’t left already?”
Gena squared her shoulders and looked Donna straight in the eye. “Because I know Joy just called her less than twelve hours ago, and it’s highly unlikely that someone who doesn’t own a car left in the middle of the night to go to Detroit. Please let me talk to her before she leaves.”
Donna stood and faced Gena. “Are you sure you’re not psychic?”
“Please,” implored Gena. “Just get me five minutes with her.”
Donna’s gaze raked over Gena as though trying to assess her trustworthiness. “What the hell? Hope lives upstairs anyway. Just don’t tell her I told you. The stairs are right through the back.” Donna pointed toward a dark hallway behind a display case filled with jewelry.
“Thank you.” Gena maneuvered Lady to the back of the store. She didn’t look back at Donna, but could feel her curious stare boring into Gena’s back.
Gena made her way up a staircase that had seen better days. It was also so narrow Gena wondered how anyone could ever get any furniture into the apartment at the top.
As she reached the door at the top of the stairs, someone pulled it open as much as a small chain would allow.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not taking private appointments for the next few days,” came a voice on the other side of the door.
“It’s about Joy,” said Gena. She needed Hope to at least hear her out.
One pretty gray eye surrounded by black eyeliner looked at Gena through the small crack opened by the door. She stared Gena up and down, briefly glancing at Lady, who stood patiently next to Gena. “Do I know you?”
Gena shook her head. “You don’t know me, but you have probably heard about me by now. My name is Gena Dodd. I’m really good friends with your sister and I was murdered last night.”