The Case of the Love Spell

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The Case of the Love Spell Page 13

by Amorette Anderson


  “Listen,” Azure says. “I don’t like you, but I don’t like Max either, so...” She pretends to be weighing two invisible items in the air, and then lets her hands fall. “Here’s the deal,” she says. “You have to be careful when it comes to dealing with Max. He’s tricky.”

  “As in, murderer tricky?” I ask, trying to grasp what Azure is trying to allude to.

  She smirks. “If he wants to be,” she says. “He’s wanted the book that you now have in your possession for hundreds of years. He’s not going to be dissuaded from his quest easily, and he’s going to pull out all of the stops to get his way.”

  “Meaning, he’ll kill for it.”

  She shrugs. “Or kiss for it... whatever it takes. Be wary. All witches have a weakness for vampires. Witching stirs up a lot of feminine energy inside of the body... estrogen, in particular.” Azure holds her left hand up vertically out at her side.

  “Vampires, on the other hand,” she holds up her right hand, “are practically swimming in testosterone. It has to do with all of the raw meat that they eat. When you put the two together, bam!”

  She slams her two hands together and then smooshes them together a few times to drive home her point. “It’s a chemical cocktail. A biological brew. Very powerful—very tempting. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

  She winks. “With time, all witches learn tricks to handle the temptation. But in the beginning... stay on your toes, that’s all I’m saying.”

  With that, she spins on her heel and begins marching towards her car.

  I’m left wondering if it might be foolish for me to go hunting down a vampire while I’m apparently so vulnerable to his powers.

  But Azure doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know what I’m capable of. I’m already a better witch than she expected. I surprised her by levitating off of the ground. Maybe I’m more capable of keeping a cool head around Max than she’s giving me credit for.

  At least, that’s what I’m going to have to hope for. Because I really need to ask him some questions.

  I blow out a gust of air through my cheeks. I’m going to do this. I’m going to find Max Shire.

  I watch Azure’s BMW pull out of the parking lot, and then I start exiting the parking lot as well, except by foot. Once I reach the road beyond it, I pick up my pace and start jogging.

  Max always seems to be running. If I want to interview him, this is my best bet.

  I’ll just jog around for a few hours, and eventually, our paths will cross.

  Simple.

  Easy peasy.

  Well, not so easy, it turns out. Twenty minutes later I’m breathing hard, sweating, and hunched over at a stop light when I see Max running up the sidewalk.

  I try to right myself.

  Nope. Not happening. I have a stitch in my side the size of a knitting needle.

  “Penny? Feeling okay?” Max asks. He’s right next to me now, but instead of pausing at the light like I have, he’s jogging in place.

  I heave in and out a few more times, trying to dissolve the annoying stitch. “Yep...” I say with a grimace. “Just a little cramp.”

  “Your water to sodium to potassium ratios might be off,” he suggests, bouncing up and down with each springy step as if he’s standing on a trampoline. “Have you been hydrating?”

  “Er... I had an iced Americano around nine,” I say, thinking back. I try to stand again. “Arg!” Too soon. I hunch over again.

  He looks down at his sports watch. “It’s 2 PM!” He says. “Your cells must be withering with dehydration! Here, have a sip of my water.”

  He whisks a bottle from the belt he’s wearing and hands it over. I’m too parched to refuse. I gulp it down, nearly finishing his bottle.

  My cramp subsides, and I stand.

  “There you go, champ!” He tucks the bottle back in his bet. The crosswalk lights up, and he starts jogging across the street. I follow him.

  “How far are you planning on running?” He asks as we hit the sidewalk on the other side. We’re nearing the edge of town. A path, up ahead, winds along the narrow old highway that leads out of Hillcrest.

  “I don’t know,” I say. I’m starting to get winded again already. “You?” I ask.

  “Not too far! Just a quick ten-mile hill run up Mill Creek. Care to join me? I’d love to chat about that book of yours.”

  “Right... the book” I say. I want to stop and prop myself against my knees again, but I force myself to keep running. I need to talk to Max, and he’s just not stopping. “What is it, exactly, that you like about that book so much?”

  “Well, for starters, it’s very rare. There are only five of them left in the Earth Realm.”

  “Why are you and Azure always talking about the Earth Realm?” I ask. “What does that even mean?”

  “Azure?” Max asks, looking at me with concern. “What do you know about Azure...? Has she been bothering you?”

  Oh, she’s just threatened me multiple times, tried to break into my apartment, told me I’ll never succeed as a witch...

  “Bothering? Um, not really. Nothing I can’t handle,” I say.

  He’s pulling ahead of me now. I try to run harder, but it’s difficult to keep up with him. He’s just so darn springy.

  “Well, don’t listen to a word she says,” he calls over his shoulder. “She’s known for playing head games... she’ll try to manipulate you into giving her what she wants.”

  “Which is...?” I ask.

  “The book, of course!” He says. “That book is very powerful. It can turn humans into witches, Penny! Don’t you see how that could be a wonderful... and dangerous thing? Believe me, it’s a great responsibility to have that book in your possession.”

  Responsibility? Now he’s losing me.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “If that book gets into the wrong hands, you could have a real problem. And, with the portal now open, there’s a very real possibility that it will get into the wrong hands, and soon. Big problems, Penny. We’re talking dark magic, world domination, hell-on-earth kinds of problems.”

  I gulp. My feet are slowing.

  He turns around and starts running backwards. “Is that something you want to have on your shoulders?” He calls out. “Think about it!” With that, he turns, and starts running faster than ever.

  Within minutes, he’s just a speck in the distance. I watch him from my place on the sidewalk, and just barely catch sight of him as he takes a right and starts powering up Mill Creek.

  Crap.

  I can’t stop now.

  Even though I’m tired, sweaty, thirsty again, and more than a little bit scared, I realize that I have to follow him.

  This conversation isn’t over.

  And if I want to ask him more questions, I’m going to have to run.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It takes me longer than I care to admit to reach the turn off to Mill Creek road. When I reach it and stare up the steep, dirt incline, I have a hard time believing that Max simply ran up it like it was flat.

  But I saw it with my own eyes. If he can do it, maybe I can too.

  I force my legs to begin running, but they refuse. I’m going to have to hike.

  I’m sore, sweaty and parched when I reach the top of the incline. I haven’t seen Max heading back down the hill, so I know he is up here somewhere.

  The road stops at a dead end. Beyond the road, I see a grassy clearing, dotted with some low pine trees.

  I’m dripping in sweat, so I peel my drenched cotton tank top off and tuck it into the side of my shorts. I’m just wearing a sports bra now, and as a cool breeze passes over the clearing I can feel it against my torso and midriff. It cools me down, and my panting slows a little bit.

  I’m still breathing hard as I place my hands on my hips and scan the meadow. Where is Max? Did I just hike up that obscenely steep hill in the peak of the July afternoon heat for no reason whatsoever?

  A flash of movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. I lif
t my hand to my brow to shield my eyes, and peer out across the sun-dappled meadow.

  I focus my attention on the section of meadow where I thought I saw movement; I see nothing but trees and tall grass.

  Then, I see it again. A white-tailed deer cuts swiftly through the grass. His fur is so close to the color of the dry, tan grass that he’s only visible when he moves. I track him with my eyes, watching him bound towards the tree line on the far side of the meadow. He’s moving quickly, as if he is frightened. It’s almost as if something is chasing him.

  I scan the grass behind him.

  Oh man.

  There, crouched down low but moving quickly nonetheless, is Doctor Max Shire. He’s gaining ground behind the deer.

  To my horror, I watch him close in on the animal with a powerful sprint, and then leap through the air and pounce. Max’s hands wrap around the deer’s neck.

  The fight is silent.

  The deer goes down, disappearing into the tall grass. I cover my mouth with my hands as I see various limbs pop up out of the ocean of grass, evidence of the struggle that’s taking place just out of my sight. First a hoof, then one of Max’s running shoes... then another hoof, and then Max’s hand. His hand looks... bloody.

  I swallow.

  Trying to stay out of sight, I begin moving towards the scene. I creep from little pine tree to little pine tree. I’m afraid of what I am going to see when I reach Max, but at the same time, I have to know. I have to see for myself.

  Just how violent is Max Shire?

  As I approach the spot where the animal and man went down, I hear a sickening gurgling sound, mingled with slurping and sucking. Occasionally, I hear Max’s voice. “Mmm!” He murmurs.

  I’m feeling a bit nauseated.

  I part the tall grass.

  Max is squatting on his haunches next to his kill with his back to me. He’s leaning over the deer’s neck. I can’t believe I’m really seeing this! I gasp audibly.

  Max lifts his head, and turns to me. His chin is dripping with blood.

  He smiles at me. His white teeth are pink. I can see his fangs—plain as day.

  “Penny!” He says. “You made it up the hill! I wasn’t sure you were going to. Are you thirsty?”

  I back away a little bit. “For... blood?” I ask. “No, thank you.”

  “You’re missing out. Blood from wild game is the most nutrient-dense fluid around. These animals eat a wide variety of herbs and other vegetation. The micronutrient profile of their blood is absolutely stellar.”

  “Stellar?” I repeat.

  “Quite.” He stands and moves around the animal. As I watch, he leans down and lifts the neck. The deer’s head lolls heavily off to the side. “Here,” he says, pushing the neck and lolling the head out towards me. “Give it a try! I think you’re going to be surprised at how active and responsive your muscles feel after you—”

  “Did you strangle that poor animal?” I ask. I avert my eyes from the deer’s head.

  “I... well, yes... of course. I used a method that I learned from the Nagmori Tribe of New Zealand. It’s a very fast and painless death for the deer, so you need not worry about that. I simply press on the windpipe for two to five minutes and... voila!” He gives the animal’s lifeless body a little shake.

  I think I might vomit. The deer’s dead eyes remind me of Gunther’s.

  “Is that how you killed Gunther Larson?” I challenge Max. “By constricting his windpipe until he collapsed, like this animal?”

  “No! Oh, no, no, no.” He chuckles. “You have so much to learn! You’re so green. So new to all of this! I find it quite attractive, actually. You make me smile, Penny Banks.”

  “Why should I take your word for it?” I say.

  “That I find you attractive? Well, I’m still here, for one thing. If you weren’t so interesting and pretty, I might have given up on getting that book from you by now, and directed my efforts elsewhere. I am a very busy being, you know, and I have my finger in many pies, as you say in English.”

  “No! I’m not talking about that. I don’t care if you think I’m pretty.” Okay, I cared. “I’m saying—why should I take your word that you didn’t kill Gunther Larson?”

  “Because. Think about it, Penny. You’re a smart girl.”

  If I had my glasses on, I’d push them up on my nose right about now. I left them at my apartment so that I could run faster. The strategy didn’t quite work.

  Max continues. “Think about it. Why would I kill Gunther Larson? What would be my motive?”

  “To... I don’t know... drink his blood?” I ask. “Maybe you’re just a violent guy. Maybe you killed Claudine because you wanted to get your hands on that book, as well as gain control of the portal. Then you found out that Gunther was onto you, so you killed him too. I bet you were sorry that you couldn’t hang around and suck out his blood, because the cops and I arrived so quickly.”

  “Quickly! Oh, how adorable! You have no idea what quick is! If I wanted to murder a human, I could do it easily. Your reflexes happen to be extremely sluggish and slow.”

  In the blink of an eye, Max has abandoned the deer, and is at my side.

  My heart is pounding. Partially, it’s because he moved so fast that it startled me. But partially, I have to admit, it’s because this guy does something to me. When he stands next to me like this, my heart just starts to beat faster. Maybe it’s that whole estrogen-testosterone reaction that Azure warned me about.

  Max lifts a hand and trails it along my cheek.

  Uh oh.

  I feel something inside me stir. It’s like a little flicker of fire, inside of my belly. I feel my knees weaken. I tilt my chin up, and look into Max’s eyes.

  “Did you kill Claudine Terra or Gunther Larson?” I ask. My voice comes out a whisper. “Just answer my question.”

  He’s looking down at me, clearly amused. “Or what?” He asks. “What will you do, if I say yes?”

  Damn it. He’s got me there. I’m unarmed, exhausted, and apparently ridiculously sluggish and slow.

  His eyes travel down my body. I suddenly regret the fact that I pulled my tank top off. I’m feeling all too vulnerable as I stand here before him.

  “I’ll... I’ll... I’ll cast a spell on you,” I say, feebly. Max doesn’t have to know that the only spell I currently know will involve an attack method that’s usually used on elementary school playgrounds, not in actual battle.

  He laughs. “You are something else, Penny. Full of spunk. Not much of a runner, but...” He trails off into another bout of laughter. “How’s this. Say that you’ll go to the Life Savers Ball with me, and I’ll reveal more about myself. Anything you want to know—I’ll tell you.”

  “Anything?” I ask. There is so much I want to know about this mysterious man.

  “Anything. I’ll lay it all out on the table, so to speak. That’s another one of your English sayings that I’m fond off.”

  “Fine,” I say. I’m backing up, slowly.

  Thankfully, Max doesn’t follow me. He stays right where he is, watching me retreat.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says. “We’ll get some dinner first. My treat.”

  I keep moving backwards, away from him. What have I just agreed to?

  “Toodles, Penny!” He calls out, right before crouching down onto his haunches again and lowering his open mouth towards the deer’s neck.

  I look away before I see him make contact with the animal. It really is repulsive.

  Yet why was it that when he was next to me, I felt powerless to say no to him? It was as though he hypnotized me or something. Damn, biological brew! Damn, chemical cocktail!

  I keep cursing my estrogen-riddled body as I hobble down Mill Creek road.

  By the time I reach my apartment again, it’s twilight.

  I’m looking forward to stretching my legs up on the couch and applying ice packs to my sore calves, but it seems that kind of relaxation just isn’t in the cards for me.

 
I’ve barely had time to check on the snoozing Turkey—Thomas, I mean—and then jump in the shower when I hear a knock at my door. I’m crossing the room, hurrying to pull a clean t-shirt over my head, when it swings open. Doesn’t anyone knock these days?

  Marley stands in the doorway. Just behind her, I see Cora.

  “Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Marley asks. “It might be cold up there on the mountain. I’d wear long sleeves.”

  “Cold? Up on the... Marley, what are you talking about?”

  Marley is already walking into my place, and Cora strides in close behind her.

  “Up on the top of Hillcrest Pass,” Marley says. “Where we decided to do the full moon ritual tonight—wait...” She’s watching my expression, which I’m sure shows bewilderment. “You haven’t been reading your emails, have you?”

  “I’ve been out of the house... running,” I say, wearily.

  “How is Turkey doing?” Cora interjects as she gazes around my apartment. She looks a bit affronted by all the disorder. Her voice is distracted as she continues. “Marley told me all about the interruption in his surgery.”

  I quickly begin tidying by scooping up an empty cereal box and two bowls on my coffee table. My places is a mess. I’ve been busy, and I wasn’t exactly expecting visitors.

  “He’s sleeping in my bedroom,” I say, explaining Turkey’s absence. “He says—I mean, I think he needs his rest.” Ah, what the hell. These ladies are witches too, right? “He actually told me that he needs his rest,” I say with a sigh. “We’ve been talking. Telepathically.” I walk over to the kitchen and deposit the bowls into the sink with a clatter.

  “Neat!” Cora exclaims. She’s wearing black stretch pants and a black hoodie. Marley is also dressed in all black—a long, flowing skirt and a black knit top.

  “Why are you guys here?” I ask, while walking back to the living room.

  Marley sighs. “It’s all in the emails. Sorry, I thought for sure you were getting them. You always have your phone on you.”

  “Not when I’m out running,” I say.

  “Since when do you run?” Cora asks.

 

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