A Spell to Die For

by Gretchen Galway

  I forced my other eye open and managed to put a hand on my front door. They’d removed the bandages, and I’d been too wiped out to notice. “Maybe. Don’t do it.” The contact with the wood of the house gave me a jolt of clarifying energy, and I was able to stand up on my own. If Willy hurt Rochelle for obeying Darius, who was obeying Raynor, I’d never forgive myself. “He looks out for me. And Random. Good neighbor.” Head spinning, I opened the door, already unlocked by the key they’d probably found in my pocket, and stumbled inside.

  To my surprise, Random didn’t scramble out the door to greet the guests as he normally would. He stayed near me instead, sniffing and looking up at me.

  I braced my knees to stay upright and told my two favorite Protectorate agents with as steady a voice as I could manage, “All right, mission accomplished. Please go. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way up here.”

  Darius looked past me into the dark house. “You’re still weak. Let us come in and—”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I’m fine. You both need to go home and sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day for all of us.”

  Darius made a frustrated sound. “Remember what I said about finding an advocate in New York.”

  I was already closing the door. My vision was going dark again, and I didn’t want them to have any excuse to stay. “I will. Thank you so much. You’re awesome. Really great. Best partner I ever had.”

  Just before I shut the door completely, I heard Darius tell his sister, “She’s delirious.”

  I locked the dead bolt, cast a boundary spell, and rested my forehead against the wall for a second. Or maybe it was a few minutes, because Random began to bark and nip at my fingers.

  I pushed away from the wall and wobbled through the house to my bathroom—took another little nap on the toilet until Random bothered me again—and finally made it the rest of the way to my bed.

  The dream began before my head hit the pillow.

  I was in Cypress Hardware again. The demon inside Samantha was talking to me over a table in a cozy café, a slice of vegan banana bread split between us. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but it didn’t matter; we were just chatting like any two friends meeting for coffee on a rainy afternoon.

  Rain. It was pouring outside, really pouring. So heavily that the glass was coated with a curtain of water, the way it would look if the café had been dropped into a clear lake.

  We were in a lake, and Seth, born a lake fae, swam by outside in a pair of red-white-and-blue swim trunks. He pounded on the glass, shouting at me through the water in words I couldn’t hear.

  The demon looked at me and asked (in words I somehow understood) if she could eat Seth for lunch.

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” I said.

  Suddenly I was on the rooftop of my father’s house, dancing a waltz in Vera’s arms, both of us in identical white gowns. We danced in perfect harmony until I looked down and saw the blood on our chests, like strawberry jam between two slices of white bread.

  I screamed, the scream became violin, the blood became rose petals, and Vera floated away.

  I woke up to Random licking my face. If I’d been wearing a heart monitor, it probably would’ve sent a worried notification to my doctor. Gasping for breath, I pushed Random’s snout away and felt how wet my face was. Had I been crying?

  After a few minutes to catch my breath, I felt my forehead. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed a little warm. The rest of me, however, was freezing. Hands shaking, I pulled the quilt over myself.

  My hands shouldn’t have been shaking. Something was wrong with me.

  “Random, call Birdie, will you?” My voice came out in a croak.

  Random licked me and panted into my face. It was probably time for his breakfast. He was a wonderful dog, but even with so much experience with magic, having been enchanted by my father, he was still only a dog. He couldn’t call anyone for me. I’d have to do that myself.

  If I called Raynor, he’d get mad at Darius and Rochelle for leaving me alone. The dream about Seth made me reluctant to drag him into any trouble of mine—he was in enough danger as it was.

  That left Birdie. She was close, she was trustworthy, she had a key, she could get through the wards, she kept her text notifications on at all times. I really, really, really wanted to see Birdie. The more I thought about it, the more urgent my need became to talk to her.

  I was still wearing the leather jacket, thank Brightness, and my phone was in the left pocket. The effort of drawing it out made me short of breath, but I got it in hand, typed her a quick message, and collapsed onto the bed.

  Then I slept without dreaming until she arrived. She stood over the bed and, after I didn’t move to greet her, said, “I’m getting Seth.”

  “No. I want you, Birdie,” I whispered. “You’re the only one who can help me.”

  “Me? No, I’m just a beginner. You need—”

  “I need you. You’re the one I need.” I paused to catch my breath. “First get me my phone. Help me see if there are any messages.”

  She found it under my hip and held it in front of my face to unlock the screen. “You need to see a doctor.”

  “Magic,” I whispered. “Need magic cure.”

  “Seth then—”

  “Do I have any messages?” I asked.

  “Raynor says your father is… under house arrest! Oh my God, what happened?”

  I relaxed against the pillow, managing a weak smile. House arrest sounded bad, but it was just for show. He was free. “They let him out,” I said. “That’s great.” They must’ve proven with probes that he hadn’t known about Vera, which meant they’d formally drop any charges as soon as the publicity died down.

  “Alma, are you asleep?”

  I swam up out of the warm blackness. Birdie was talking to me, and I needed her to do something. “I just don’t know what. If I could just remember…”

  The world went dark again. Birdie had to shake me awake and shout in my ear. “Remember what?”

  “My dream,” I said. “It’s in my dream. The clue. I was having banana bread with a demon in a café. Did you turn your bookstore into a café?”

  “I haven’t even opened it yet,” Birdie said. She rested her hand on my forehead. “Oh my God, Alma. You’re burning up!”

  I thought about the dream. “The demon wanted to eat Seth.” I tried to get up. “He’s hurt! We have to—”

  “He’s fine. I just brought him some leftover pumpkin pie. Yesterday was Thanksgiving, remember?”

  I went limp, relieved but confused. I’d slept through an entire day? No wonder Random had been hungry. “Right. Sorry.”

  “What happened to Seth in the dream?” Birdie asked.

  “I told the demon not to eat him,” I said weakly. Then I heard my words and came fully awake. “No, I wished. I made a wish. Demon’s balls, Birdie! Cypress Hardware. That’s it! You need to take me there. Right now.”

  “But you’re sick—”

  “Take me. Now.” I grabbed her arm and hauled myself up to sitting. “Now, Birdie.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ten minutes later, Birdie parked in a spot near the entrance of Cypress Hardware, and I lifted my head away from the passenger window where I’d propped it for the ride. The mouthful of peppermint, a cup of springwater, and two capsules of ibuprofen hadn’t done much for me. My fever was still raging, making it difficult for me to keep my head upright.

  Seth had said he’d felt three supernatural fingerprints on me. One had to have been the demon who’d possessed Samantha. The second, I now realized, must’ve been Vera. And the third—

  I thought of the copper wire I’d wrapped around my arm. It had come from Cypress Hardware, from the creature who had helped me get home after the demon exorcism. That creature was still there.

  It had to be a genie. It explained so much.

  “You should be in bed,” Birdie said.

  “Did you notice anything strange when you worked at Cypress?” I asked.<
br />
  “Strange like magic?”

  I nodded, then flinched from the pain. “The store always manages to have just what people want.”

  “Jen’s a workaholic,” she said. “She’s always asking people about their lives, what they want, what they need.”

  “Jen?”

  “The owner. I think her mom owned it before her. It’s been in the family a long time.”

  Jen. Cute name. Bit on the nose, though. “How long?” I asked. “Another generation or two?”

  “Why do you—”

  “Just tell me what you remember.”

  “At least her grandmother,” she said. “Or great-grandmother? There’s a black-and-white photo of somebody from that generation welcoming the soldiers home from World War II. They had a party in the parking lot.”

  “You worked the customer service desk. Was there ever an issue with things being out of stock? Having to get things from other stores, other suppliers?”

  “No, never. Management was really aggressive about in-stocks. Contractors usually shopped for lumber in Santa Rosa,” she said. “But we kept some here, just in case.”

  “And in those cases, you had what they wanted, even though Cypress isn’t usually known as a lumber yard?”

  “Sure, like a few two by fours or a sheet of plywood. We kept those—”

  She didn’t see what I was getting at, and I was too tired to explain. “I’m going to need your help.” I opened the door and blinked at the ground, which seemed very far away in my weak state.

  Birdie got out on her side. “We should’ve called Seth—”

  “No. Just you.” Seth might inadvertently expose my plan. “I need you to put something in an employee-only area. Did you have a lounge or something?”

  She hurried around to my side and gave me her arm. “The break room—”

  “Perfect.” I reached into my pocket and clasped my fingers around a black velvet bag holding an expensive gold necklace I used to wear when I was trying to get ahead in the Protectorate. I slipped it into Birdie’s hands. “Set it anywhere and then get back out here as soon as you can. And don’t touch what’s inside the bag.” She was too involved already.

  “But you—”

  “I need to be alone. Just wait here.” I squeezed her arm. “Thanks.”

  We went into the store together, but separated near the entrance. She went through a door behind the customer service counter, and I weaved through the aisles to the patio seating, now on clearance, and collapsed into a padded lawn chair. After a few minutes, I made a silent but specific wish for regained health. It was a wild thought—I’d never met a genie before, but if my suspicions were true, it would explain a lot.

  I waited, gripping the arms of the chair.

  It happened all at once. One breath I was sweaty and weak; the next, better. In fact, I’d never felt so good. The fever and weakness were gone. The crick in my neck I’d had ever since my father had announced his engagement was gone. The hangnail on my left thumb was gone.

  The necklace had done the job. I’d probably overpaid, but it wasn’t worth the risk to be cheap.

  I sprang to my feet and inhaled deeply, my sinuses clear, no hint of allergies. Scanning my body, I could find no bruise, no scab. My lower back didn’t ache. All my worries about my life, my father, my friends—gone. My soul was overflowing with optimism and peace. It was a miracle.

  A miracle with a price. Unbeknownst to them, people had been paying the genie’s prices for generations. So far as I knew, the Protectorate had no idea she was here, which meant she was powerful. I’d have to be careful.

  I strode out of the store to reassure Birdie. Now that my mind was clear from fever, I remembered she’d expected me for Thanksgiving dinner the day before. What a good friend she was to come today and help me, never complaining I’d stood her up.

  “I’m really sorry about yesterday,” I said as I got into the car. Now that I was stronger, I could cast a spell around her SUV, shielding us from most observation. “What did you do when I didn’t show up, other than hate me?”

  “I’d never hate you. You warned me you might be too tired after your dad’s wedding,” she said. “I figured that was it.”

  “But I didn’t even call.”

  “You were sick— Hey! What happened? You’re better!”

  “You didn’t know I was sick yesterday,” I said. “You had every right to be annoyed. Don’t let me walk all over you.”

  “A few minutes ago, you could barely walk at all.” She lowered her voice, asking eagerly, “What kind of magic is hidden at Cypress? I never suspected a thing. Is it a healing charm? Herbs in the garden center?”

  “Let’s get to my house first,” I said. “It’s not safe to talk here.”

  “I noticed you put a boundary spell around my car,” she said.

  “Good job noticing. You’re getting stronger.” Maybe too strong. It could get her into trouble if she learned things before she had the skill to protect herself.

  She drove out of the potholed parking lot, up through the wooded slope to my house, and parked behind my Jeep in the driveway. I’d have to thank Rochelle for driving my wheels home for me. First, however, I had to clean up the local situation.

  Birdie came inside with me and sat at the kitchen table, the spot where she’d received most of my magic lessons over the past few months. At the counter, I opened a tin of homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies, her favorite, and set a dozen on a daisy-patterned plate she’d given me.

  I was already feeling guilty. Leaving the cookies on the counter, I went over to the table and sat across from her. “Remember when you said you’d never hate me?”

  She nodded, her brow creasing.

  “Hold that thought. Because I can’t tell you what’s at Cypress.”

  “I promise I won’t—”

  “I’m so sorry, Birdie.” I reached out my arm and snapped my fingers in front of her face. When she flinched, I sent a forgetting spell through the momentary gap in her defenses. It would only cover the past hour, but that might be enough.

  Then I got up, filled the kettle with springwater, and put it on the burner for tea. There was a thud as Birdie’s head struck the table.

  Whoops. I hadn’t thought it would be that bad—I should’ve put some dish towels down to soften the blow. When the kettle whistled, I poured it over the peppermint tea bags I’d put in mugs, brought them over with the cookies. Then I set a cork on the floor, sat across from her, and waited until she came to.

  It took one and a half minutes, which meant she’d forget the previous hour and a half. I’d gotten pretty close. Aside from hitting her head, she’d feel fine, especially after she had the tea and cookies.

  She lifted her head, pushed away from the table, and stared, blinking in confusion at the floor.

  “Do you see it?” I asked, sending a gentle suggestion spell. “I dropped it over here.”

  She blinked again. “What—? No, not yet. What color is it?”

  “Beige. The usual cork color. It’s all right, I’ll get another—”

  Suddenly she lunged down and lifted it from the floor. “Got it!” She handed it to me, smiling, and reached for her mug of tea. “It’s too bad you don’t get the springwater buzz like everyone else. You’re really missing out.”

  “Thanks.” I fitted the cork into the bottle and picked up a cookie. “As long as I can eat these, I’m fine.” I took a big bite and chewed slowly, watching her carefully. She sipped her tea, ate a cookie, and gazed blissfully off into the distance. When the tea was gone, I sent one last spell her way.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  I turned around to look at the wall clock. “Five to two.”

  She slammed the mug down. “Already?” she asked, standing up. “I promised to bring Random to the beach today. I better get going. I’ve only got a few hours before the sun goes down.”

  “I really appreciate it,” I said. “He really needs to get off leash.”

&
nbsp; “Of course. I love bringing him.” Two minutes later, she had Random on his leash and was walking out the door. “Come on, buddy, it’s tennis ball time.”

  I followed her out and stood in the driveway, watching her back out into the road.

  I stood there until Jen the jinn showed up a few minutes later.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She arrived on foot, appearing on the side of the road as if she’d just walked into view, as if I simply hadn’t been paying attention.

  But I had been watching carefully—with my hand wrapped around my most powerful redwood bead—and saw the instant she flashed into existence next to the hedge beyond my driveway.

  She was middle-aged in the manner of a witch or a movie star, without any wrinkles or gray hair to give away her exact decade. Forty? Fifty? Her dark, curly hair was cut short, emphasizing her long neck, which was heavily adorned with gold chains, pendants, and beads. The necklace I’d put in the velvet bag hung there among the others. She also wore an oversized wool cape in a geometric pattern of purple and white over dark jeans and…

  A pair of hummingbird-print waterproof clogs from the gardening department at Cypress Hardware. I’d almost bought them for myself once but had ended up ordering them online. I wondered if those were the same pair and she was making a point about knowing everything—and collecting on debts.

  Without hesitating, she strode over the boundary between the road and my driveway where I’d cast the first ring of boundary spells and then walked directly to me.

  Yes, she was definitely making a point. She wanted me to respect her power.

  I did. I very much did.

  When she was just out of arm’s length, she stopped. I realized how tall she was, at least six feet, and could feel the chilly, ancient indifference in her demeanor. It was hard to hold her gaze, but I was still refreshed from the health wish she herself had granted me and so had the strength to manage a few long, awkward seconds.

  “Welcome,” I said. “Would you like to come in, uh…? Forgive me, I don’t know your real name.” She’d managed to break through my chimney once, but I’d been unconscious. She wouldn’t be able to enter again without my formal invitation. Genie magic was much stronger than any witch’s, but I had a better chance of surviving a confrontation inside the walls of my warded home.