Bitch Witch (26 page)

I HAVE TO
pee
.

Sarah stood knee deep in the Aegean Sea with every intention of getting into deeper water and going. Aunt Lily stood beside her, topless and suntanned, one hand shading her eyes and the other clutching Sarah’s.

“You could swim here with us if you hadn’t decided to waste your life,” Lily said. “But you made your bed. Good luck sleeping in it.”

Sarah heard her mother comment from the beach, “Doesn’t look like all that schooling helped much.”

The beach vanished and Sarah sat alone inside her cubicle at Mass Power and Light, her hand aching with loneliness. She still needed to go something fierce, but now Father McCloud blocked her from exiting the cubicle.

“After you bring my shingle back,” he said.

It occurred to Sarah at that point that this was all a dream.

I need to wake up and I can go anywhere I want.

Father McCloud and her cubicle at Mass Power and Light vanished. Red light scorched beneath her eyeballs, shooting pain into her brain like lightning strikes. Sarah lay prone under a blanket that seemed to weigh as much as a building. It held her tightly against the mattress, and she couldn’t cast to escape it. Somehow it even held her eyelids closed.

Uselessly she told the blanket, “I want to get up.”

“If you cast me off, you can do what you want,” said the blanket, the top edge of it forming into a strange dark wrinkle that looked like a mouth. Sarah wondered how she could see it with her eyes closed.

“No,” she told it. “I can’t cast anymore.”

“You can. Just choose to and all will be as it should be.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do.”

Sarah considered her options until chills rippled through her. She needed to get up, but refused to cooperate with the creepy captive.

“I
have
to get up.”

“You know the price.”

“I don’t need your permission,” she said.

“But you do need my help,” it told her. “You always will.”

Sarah tried to prove that wasn’t true. It didn’t work. The effort to escape her paralysis made her chills worse, and she shivered miserably beneath the blanket that gave no warmth. The blanket’s smile grew wider and darker. Sarah thought she saw dark matter shifting and swirling inside the toothless mouth.

“Get away from me! I told you to go! I’m done with dark matter!” she growled at it. “You’re part of it. I know you are. Go away!”

The smiling dark wrinkle grew wider, as if laughing. “You can’t make me leave. You can never make me leave. No one can.”

This made her mad. “Maybe not, but the light can make you move. I’ve seen it.”

“You are not the light.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t make you leave me alone!”

“Why would it do anything for you?”

Sarah considered that. Why would it? She had nothing to bargain with. Nothing to offer.

“Do you think light is a better master?”

“I don’t care. I would choose light over you.”

The blanket snapped up into the air far above her, almost reaching the ceiling, and floated down lightly, landing softly and gently over her. The mouth looked like a smile, but not the dark one. This smile looked like a beam of sunlight.

SARAH OPENED HER eyes. Blinding bright light made them water. The light hit somewhere behind her eyeballs and she sneezed. It ripped through her body with such intensity it felt like her lungs exploded. For a moment she lay motionless and tried to recover, certain she’d at least broken a rib and sneezed a couple teeth loose. Pain spread from ribs to lungs and clawed up to her throat. Sarah willed it away, but it didn’t go. Opening her eyes again, she blinked against searing light and swallowed.

Dry agony attacked her aching throat like fingernails cutting flesh. A cross dangled in her line of vision. Henry’s necklace. The one Paul always wore.

She stared at the necklace, trying to determine if the thick neck supporting it was really Paul’s. Through blurry vision she saw the fine lines of his horse tattoo, the ends of the tail flared against his neck. Tears slipped from her eyes.

I’m alive! I’m awake!

Paul pressed his hands against her cheeks as his thumbs wiped the tears away. “Hey, there you are! Welcome back. Lord, witchy woman, I’ve missed those wild eyes of yours. You’ve been out a very long time.”

A fresh flood of tears covered his fingers.

“You’re going to be okay, Sarah.” He leaned forward, pressing his head against her forehead and tenderly patting her shoulders.

Sarah reached to hug him, but her arms wouldn’t come. It felt like her weeks of wild dreaming had returned, and for a brief moment she thought she’d lost her body again.

“It’s okay!” Paul said. “They have your hands tied down so you couldn’t hurt yourself. Hold on.”

Fear shot through Sarah, and she yanked on her restraints, attempting to cast herself free. The area in her center that she’d cast from all of her life, felt dry and empty, like a hose filled with nothing but air.
I have no power. Nothing.

“Don’t panic. Come on, you’re pulling your IV out.”

“Untie me!” Sarah struggled, kicking her legs which were wonderfully free. She focused on the restraints on her hands, willing them off, willing the pain away from her body. Nothing changed.

“Sarah, please. Trust me. I’ll get you loose,” Paul whispered, his cheek now pressed against hers.

Her chin wobbled with emotion. It wasn’t about being tied down. It was being helpless. It was the pain.
I feel everything.
She tried again to will her pain away.
I don’t like feeling everything!
“I hurt,” she whimpered.
I’m scared!
Saying that out loud would make it worse, but Paul knew. Sarah saw it in his eyes. His brown eyes were every bit as beautiful as Henry’s, but there was a sadness in them Henry’s didn’t have. A few more errant tears slid down her cheeks.
Is this what it’s like for people? I don’t know how to do this.

Paul went to work on the band of a leather cuff wrapped around Sarah’s left wrist. “If the doctor walks in and catches me doing this, you’ll have to bail me out of jail again.”

Sarah smiled through her tears, but it trembled.

“There was a big car wreck or they’d be in here already. Actually they thought it would take you longer to regain consciousness. You’ve only been off the ventilator since yesterday. Does it hurt to breathe?”

“Everything hurts.”

Paul got the buckle loose and rubbed her wrist. It erased the feeling of the horrible cuff. Sarah lifted her freed arm and gave Paul a one-armed hug.

“Thank you for being here,” she cried, feeling like a baby. She wished she had some pride left, but it was gone. She’d never been so afraid in her life.

“Where else would I be?” He looked from one eye to the other. “You’re going to be okay. Don’t be afraid.”

Sarah shook her head but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to tell him she couldn’t cast.

He turned his attention to her right wrist. “Do you know you were in a coma?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been awhile, Sarah.”

“I know. Six weeks.” More tears slid from her eyes.

“They can give you something for the pain. It doesn’t have to hurt. Let me hide the evidence and I’ll hit the call button.” Paul lifted her right arm to show her it was free and straightened.

“No, don’t. I can’t take drugs,” her voice rasped, like Aunt Lily’s barfly one.

“Not even if it makes you stop hurting?”

“Witches don’t take drugs.”

“Is there a fine if you do? Because pain isn’t going to help you any.”

“It messes us up. We have to be able to feel everything around—uh, I’ve been given drugs, haven’t I?”
Of course I have.
Maybe that’s why she couldn’t push pain away. Maybe it had nothing to do with chasing away dark matter.
Keep telling yourself that.

“You’ve been given
all
the drugs.”

“Help me up? I need to get out of here.”

A whispery chuckle escaped him. “You’re not going anywhere, at least not anytime soon. Meds have been keeping you alive. I don’t think you should rule them out just yet.”

Now that Paul mentioned drugs, she could feel them sluggishly moving through her system. Anesthetic numbed the inside of her mouth, and ammonia made her nostrils cold. Although Paul leaned close, she couldn’t smell his body wash or tell if he was still brushing his teeth with kid toothpaste. Bright light reflected off the icon dangling from his neck and it hurt her eyes. Maybe the light hurt because of the medication, too. “I can’t stay here.”

Paul dropped into a chair beside her bed. “Listen to me. You nearly died! I’m not just saying that. You haven’t moved in ages. I doubt you can sit up, much less stand.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I can.” Sarah tried to prove it by sitting, but her muscles ignored her and her insides screamed in protest. She squinted against the scorching light at Paul. A very important question entered her mind.
If I’m this bad, what happened to Kathleen?

Suddenly more afraid, she asked, “What happened after I passed out that night?”

Paul stood again, checking the wires and tubes attached to her body. “They had no clue what was wrong with you. At first both you and Kathleen had the exact same symptoms, only she didn’t get worse and worse! They’ve been calling in doctors from all over. You don’t have a doctor, you have a team! It’s going to take your entire Archer fortune to pay for this.”

Kathleen didn’t get worse and worse?
Tears of relief filled her eyes this time.

Apparently satisfied, Paul stopped fiddling around with her wires and leaned against the bed railing. “About a week ago they decided both you and Kathleen had ingested some sort of rare bacteria that supposedly formed once in some wine somewhere. They’re calling the fact that both Henry and I drank from the same bottle with no problem ‘a decanting fluke.’ An entire team of world-renowned doctors came up with that theory, but not one of them figured out you were actually a bitch witch having a jealous meltdown because of a love spell. Such is the state of medical care today. Blame it on your HMO.”

Sarah didn’t laugh. “She’s out of the hospital though? With Henry?”

Paul glared. “If you’re going to start on Henry already, I’ll have you sedated.”

“I’m trying to know what happened!”

“Of course she’s with Henry. He’s taking care of her.”

Sarah nodded. “He has to take care of her?”

“He wants to. He loves her! He always has.”

Sarah closed her eyes. To a small degree that hurt. Even knowing her attraction to Henry was a love spell, she’d been so certain it had also been real. “The spell broke for him then? That night?”

“Obviously,” said Paul without pity.

Sarah nodded, opening her eyes. “Me too.”

Paul crossed his arms. “Don’t you lie to me.”

Memories of how she’d mooned over Henry came back and shame warmed her cheeks. She’d run into that love spell with eyes wide open.
Aunt Lily would have laughed her head off.
The groping incident in the basement came to mind, followed by the parking lot fiasco. Sarah couldn’t quite meet Paul’s eyes. “I don’t blame you for not believing me.”

“What’s going on?” Paul narrowed his eyes at her. “You never give in this easily. I thought you’d start ripping tubes out of your body and head back to Henry.”

Sarah jutted her lip out and fisted her hands. She could feel some of the tubes dig deeper into her veins and her bladder seemed to be pressing against her lungs. More tears filled her eyes. She shoved away the humiliation of being a love-sick moron and focused on the fact that Kathleen had survived. Even after rescinding the spell and claiming it ten-fold against herself, she’d had no way of knowing how Kathleen would end up.

In that respect she’d been fortunate.