Hoodoo Woman (Roxie Mathis Book 3) (12 page)

I stood in the center of a pentagram outlined with candles. Clearing my thoughts, I directed my intention at two things - calling Stack and lighting the candles. The candles came first, bright lights climbing higher than they should have been able to as my will pushed the flames into existence. Next came Stack, a hazy shape in the night accompanied by the scents of smoke and whiskey and a low moan of music in a minor key.

Daniel and Ray stood outside the pentagram, Daniel to the left of me, Ray to the right. Daniel took a step back when Stack appeared. Ray stood his ground but I could see a flare of nervous energy shoot out of his aura from the corner of my eye.

“Good evening, Stack,” I said.

He nodded, the smell of smoke briefly stronger. “Hoodoo woman.”

He took slow steps toward Ray, looking more solid with each one but still incorporeal. A sepia image glowing softly in the dark. Ray’s gun hand twitched at his side but he continued to hold steady. I had to admire him. This was so far out of his league, it wasn’t even in the same zip code of what he was used to, but he met it head on.

Stack came to a halt less than two feet from Ray. Looking the deputy up and down, Stack glanced at me then looked back at Ray. “Lawman.” Stack nodded in greeting.

I followed Stack’s path to Daniel, worried about what he would say that Ray didn’t need to hear. Too late to worry now. Stack stood before Daniel, the two of them sizing each other up.

“Vampire,” Stack said.

Oh shit. I glanced at Ray, who was in full grumpy teddy bear mode but otherwise not reacting. I didn’t know what to make of that.

“Spirit,” Daniel said. He held up his flask, offering it to Stack.

With a chuckle Stack grabbed the flask, his form becoming solid enough I couldn’t see through him, and helped himself to a long drink, then passed it back. As the flask left his grasp his form rippled, returning to a sepia glow. Stack moved to the top of the pentagram, indicating he was ready to go to work now that introductions had been made. From the freight train tempo of the music emanating from him, I could tell he appreciated the courtesy.

I bit my lip and looked at Ray, ready to pull the plug on the whole thing if he wigged out. I couldn’t have him here if he couldn’t handle it. He exhaled slowly, giving me what was probably supposed to be a reassuring nod. I could read him in candlelight as well as broad daylight and right then his eyes were telling me we’d be having quite a conversation later. But he was solid in the moment so I felt safe proceeding.

Opening my senses, I let the music from Stack flow into me. Magic vibrated in the air. “Call the thunder, call the lightning,” I murmured, eyes half-closed. “Call the rain and call the dead.”

The wind rattled the trees. Daniel swore. Ray said in a low voice, “I thought we’d be out here with a Ouija board. Is this how a séance is conducted?”

Daniel said, “I use a baton myself. Some sheet music. A tuba.”

Ray said, “What’s the tuba for?”

“The spirit uses the tuba to communicate,” Daniel said. “While I conduct the séance with my baton.”

I snapped, “Both of you idiots shut up before I decide to conduct electricity through your batons.”

My ancestor who’d celebrated a sesquicentennial pouted like a six-year old. “That’s just not nice.”

Ray said, “Hush! She said we need to be quiet so let’s be quiet and let her do her thing.”

Daniel laughed. “Heh, you’re not gonna get that ass by kissin’ it.”

I stomped my foot, sending energy through the ground right at Daniel. Not enough to hurt, akin to a thump on the shoulder, but when he jumped, swore and then fell silent I knew he got the message.

The burn of whiskey in my throat pulled my attention back to the task at hand. I thanked Stack silently. With the buddy cop movie behind me on pause, I concentrated on raising energy.

There’s a point while working heavy magic when, once crossed, time ceases to have meaning. Time and space and all the normal things that keep one grounded in the mundane world fall away. There’s a liminal space between the mundane and the magical, a river of energy I would need to fall into in order to pull this off. Sometimes the river was wild rapids, other times a lazy stream. Tonight it was somewhere in between, unpredictable, changing without notice. Deciding when to make the jump was an instinctive thing. With no ceremony to guide me, no chanting or order of events or illustrations and rules in a handbook, I’d reached a point where pretty much everything I did was by instinct. There was a wildness to it I loved, a freedom that made my heart want to burst from the pure joy of it. It was natural magic at its most primal, a witch and her spirit familiar and the elements and the dark of night.

I didn’t even realize when I fell into the river. I just opened my eyes and knew, as the magic all around flared and sparked in the auric field of my vision.

“Call the thunder, call the lightning. Call the rain and call the dead.”

I stomped my foot again, this time sending a shot of energy into the stereo. A crackle of distortion erupted from the speakers as thunder sounded in the distance.

“Britney Parker! Come talk to me.” I clapped my hands together to start the CD. Britney’s favorites mix blasted forth. “Come on, girlfriend. Come tell me your secrets.”

The first song on the CD was a dance number, relentlessly rhythmic. My feet kept time with it, then my hands with more clapping. Riding pure instinct now, not sure what would attract her ghost but in life she’d loved to dance, loved to party, loved this music, so why not?

“Come out and play, Britney.”

The music swelled and with it the magic, Stack and I sending out a pulse of energy. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. We were attracting things, all right, but only Britney was invited inside the pentagram with me. The line I’d set up around the foundation would keep Daniel and Ray safe. I glanced at the vampire. He could tell there were things slithering out there in the dark, looking to join the party. I just hoped he could keep his fangs inside his mouth and not scare the hell out of Ray.

The trees moaned and swayed as spirits responded to my call. Every lonely shade in the county pressed against the barrier, their anger growing at not being on the guest list. Everyone but the one I wanted.

The CD moved on to the next track. With a quick push of will I turned it back to the previous song. It had a rhythm I could use to keep the level of magical energy I needed going strong and it seemed like a good one to get Britney’s attention.

“Britney Parker. Come talk to me!”

Ray said, “What can we do to help?”

“Clap along to the music. Think about her. She came to you first, asked you for help. Think about that. Focus on it.”

He nodded, dark concentration on his face. Ray and Daniel both clapped with the song. There wasn’t much else Daniel could do to help. Vampires weren’t capable of magic as they are not living creatures. He was backup and with all the spirits out there just behind the light of the candles I was glad to have him.

Those spirits started to test the boundaries of the wards. A few in one corner, then a few more in another. Their dank, cold energy pressed against my head like the sinus headache from a weather system. I sent another tendril of will into the stereo to raise the volume. The attempted intrusions stopped, hopefully for at least a few minutes.

“Come on, Britney! Tell me your secrets.”

“Tell me yours first.” It happened so quickly I nearly cried out. Stack shimmered in front of me, with Britney shining through him like a superimposed image. Her voice came from far away and through him, distorted, with an echo. Like I was hearing both of them speak as she borrowed his voice.

“Britney, my name is Roxanne. I want to help you.”

“I know who you are.”

I had to turn down the stereo to hear her, which made the spirits outside the wards press harder against them.

“Then you know I can help. But I need to know what happened that night. Who killed you?”

She looked past me to Ray. He stared, hands frozen in mid-clap. “Talk to her, Britney. Let her help. Tell us what we need to know and I can get the evidence to arrest them, one way or another.”

“You were always good to me, Deputy Travis.” Britney looked at me again. “He never tried to get in my pants like the other cops.” She laughed. “Which is funny because he’s the only one I would have let.”

Half of that came out in Stack’s voice. Disconcerting, to say the least. I shook it off and tried questioning her again. “Do you remember the night you died?”

“I like being able to talk again,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out how before. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But I don’t know how long we can do this.” The restless spirits outside the range of the candlelight continued to push and my energy was beginning to wane under the strain of keeping the wards up. “Tell me what we need to know while you can.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she screamed. “That night was just the end. You need to know it all to know who really killed me.”

My scalp itched with sweat and muscles began to burn. “Who was there?”

“I don’t know who they were. There were two of them. I didn’t know them.”

Hopes for a quick end to this dashed, I swore under my breath and struggled to keep going. Lightning flashed through the treetops, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. Thank you, Stack. We could use the storm to dispel the ghosts trying to overrun the space but it would also call a halt to communicating with Britney. I had to get something useful out of her quickly.

“Britney, we don’t have much time. Tell me something I can use to find your killer.”

She moved closer. “It’s so strange, being dead. The past folds in on the present and I can’t tell what I’m seeing. I mean, when. I don’t know. I can’t make sense of it. It’s like the past is a movie playing at the same time as the present, which is also a movie. Does that make sense to you?”

“I need something concrete, honey.”

“I could see it happening to me, and I could see it happening to her at the same time. Like two movies in the past playing at the same time. Whatever, I don’t want to look at it anymore. I just want to be with my baby. She’s not with me and I’m stuck here and I don’t know what to do.”

Suddenly she was right in my face, her energy once again bleeding over into mine like in the restaurant. Only this time instead of reliving her death I felt the rage keeping her tied to this mortal plane and the desperate need to move on to the next. “I want my baby! I want my baby!”

Flickering like a signal about to go out, voice raising and dipping as it moved from hers to Stack’s, the ghost burned with a fury that scared me. The pressure in my head eased as some of the spirits outside the wards fled Britney’s wrath. I didn’t take that as a good sign.

“Who are you angry with? That’s what’s keeping you here, Britney. Your anger, this rage is what’s keeping you tied here. You can let go of it and move on or you can tell me who to go after so maybe that will help you rest. But you’re not gonna be with her until all this bad stuff is worked out.”

“I want my baby!”

“Tell me who to go after.” The first drops of rain fell. The wards didn’t have much longer. I didn’t have much longer.

“I want my baby.”

“Then point me in the right direction. Who? Give me something, anything!”

She blinked away, materializing in front of Ray. The sky opened up as the last of my energy bled into the ground, taking the wards with it. She leaned close to Ray, as if whispering something in his ear. He reacted with shock, whatever it was.

A howling rush of darkness blew out the candles as the spirits descended on the space. In an instant Britney was gone. Magic went haywire, twisting in all the wrong directions in the air. Stack was gone. Just like that, he’d left on his own or been taken along for the ride when Britney departed. I was tapped out, barely standing, as the storm intensified. The smell of ozone announced the lightning a second or two before it hit the ground less than a foot in front of me, sending all of its energy into me as if I were a lightning rod.

The precise moment my heart stopped was a thudding boom in my ears, then everything went black and silent.

Water dragged me under, the weight of it like mud as I struggled.

“wind up no better than trailer trash if you don’t learn to act normal,” Nadine screeched.

Witch bitch witch bitch witch bitch.

“Using the mortar and pestle to crush the herbs is best but I’ve used the flat of a spoon, a rolling pin, whatever works. That’s what’s important, girl,” Rozella said. “You use whatever works. The rest will sort itself out.”

“all this stupid nonsense you read won’t do you a bit of good where it counts.”

“I sought you out. I mean, I needed that ghost expelled from my house but I was looking for you anyway. I searched for you because you are my descendent.”

“You’ll find the type of spells you’re best at. It will tell you more than I ever could about the nature of your magic.”

Voices floated around me, eddying like currents in the water that held me down.

“I don’t know anything about magic but I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

“You.”

“You’ll never amount to anything if you don’t stop acting like a freak!”

“Seeing the future is no trick. Reading the bones or the cards or the dregs in a tea cup, it’s all the same. It’s all about seeing what’s right in front of you.”

Darkness and rain and his breath mingled with mine. The hard surface of the patrol car hood underneath me, more hardness above as he lowered himself to cover me. Hard muscle and warm flesh and cold rain. Hands on my thighs, stroking, caressing. My head fell back as he pressed himself inside me, the sound of the rain swallowing my cry. His hand slammed on the hood. I hooked my ankles around his waist, pulling him closer.

“What do you see in those cards for us?”

Rain in my eyes. He held me tight in the cage of his arms, hips bucking a relentless rhythm that dissolved all coherent thought. He whispered my name.

“Don’t leave me again!”

Nothing but sensation. Pleasure and pain and the feeling of being owned and more alive than I ever had before as he tattooed his claim deeper than skin and bone and flesh all the way to my soul, all the way down to where the magic lived and breathed and ran free. He wrote his name on my heart with every breath.

Every breath a talisman.

Every call of my name a spell.

Every breath.

Every breath.

I returned to awareness quickly. Disoriented, I flailed only to find myself captured by two strong arms. Rain pelted in heavy drops, my hair a sodden mass obscuring my vision. He pushed it from my face, his touch almost unbearably tender. I tried to speak but couldn’t.

“Are you sober enough to drive?”

“After that, I am. You get her in the car, I’ll get the stuff.”

He lifted me, carrying me through the woods to the back seat of the SUV. Just being out of the rain was such a relief, I sagged against him in the seat. He pulled me into his lap.

I finally managed to speak. “What happened?”

“Your heart stopped. I had to do CPR.”

I breathed in his scent. Woodsy aftershave and coffee and warm flesh. “Ray.”

“It’s all right. Everything’s all right, baby. It’s all right.” He drew a ragged breath. His lips brushed my temple. “It’s all right, baby.”

The driver’s door opened, Daniel climbing in and shutting it quick against the lingering storm. He craned his neck to look in the back seat. “You okay?” He reached for my hand.

I took it, entwined our cold fingers together. “Yeah.”

It was all I could manage.

He exchanged a look with Ray. “Home or the ER?”

“Home,” I croaked. “No doctors.”

Ray slipped his fingers around my wrist. “Her pulse is good. I think home is okay.”

Daniel nodded. “Okay. Just relax, Roxie. You take it easy and we’ll be there in no time.” He faced forward and started the vehicle.

I sank deeper into Ray’s embrace, shivering. He adjusted his jacket around me, as if to draw me in closer, wrap me up in all the warmth and safety he had to offer. I closed my eyes and drifted.

* * *

The next time I woke I was warm in my bed under a mountain of covers. I lay there for a while, listening. The stereo was on in the living room. I strained to make out the music. Even in this state I liked winning at Name That Tune. It was Robert Plant, one of his later solo albums. Not Daniel’s usual fare. I pushed aside the covers and stretched, then found my glasses on the nightstand. The clock read two thirty.

My feet didn’t want to cooperate so it took me longer than it should have to make a simple trip to the bathroom. Dragging a brush through my hair ignited a righteous headache. My mouth felt so fuzzy I brushed my teeth twice.

Food. I needed food in the worst way. Every muscle ached. My chest throbbed above my heart. I left my room, making my way slowly to the kitchen, keeping one hand on the wall as I padded slowly up the hallway. With every step more came back to me, of both the séance and what happened after.

Sunlight stabbed through the living room curtains. Ray sat in the recliner, a book open on his lap but ignored as he stared at nothing. I stood in the junction of the hall, watching him. Remembering. Could everyone recall their near death experiences so vividly or was it the magic in me that made the experience sharp enough to cut glass?

I stepped into the room, making enough noise to ensure he would notice. The book fell from his lap as he stood and took two hurried steps before stopping.

“How.” He swallowed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Hungry.” It wasn’t the answer he was looking for but it was the truth. “What’re you still doing here?”

“Daniel had to sleep but we didn’t think you needed to be completely alone. I’ve checked on you a few times. Your pulse, just to make sure you’re stable.”

“Did you call in sick?”

He nodded. “Not something I do often but I felt it was best.” He ran his hands down his sides then gestured toward the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

A meal seemed like a good way to dispense with the awkwardness so I agreed. I sat at the small table while he busied himself finding ingredients and cookware and making me breakfast. “So,” I said. “I’m guessing you and Daniel had a talk?”

“We surely did.” Ray grinned. “He’s real sensitive to sparkle jokes. I told him about that damn Radioactive nickname to make him feel better.”

That was not what I expected to hear. “You’re okay with this? I mean, you’re not shocked or trying to deny it?”

“He showed me his fangs.” Ray paused with an egg poised over a bowl. “Yeah, that sounded bad. Look, I know I wasn’t always the most open-minded guy back when we were together but I’ve changed. I kinda had to. Is it the easiest thing to accept? No. But in the grand scope of things it’s not the hardest, either.”

Chin propped on my hand, I watched him cook with economical movements. In a strange kitchen, in the home of a creature of myth and nightmares, Ray Travis was still at ease in his own skin in a way I envied. And he remembered how I liked my eggs, scrambled with shredded cheese and salsa. As soon as he put the plate in front of me I attacked the food. He touched the top of my head briefly, then moved away to study the espresso machine. By the time I was done with the eggs he’d figured out how to make cappuccino and was working on two cups.

“What did she tell you?” I deposited my plate and fork in the sink. “When she came over and whispered to you? What was that about?”

“Mackie and Terry have a sister, did you know that?”

I thought about it for a moment, digging up Parker family trivia from the addled landscape of my brain. “Uh, yeah, I think so. I don’t recall anything about her. Did she move off?”

“No. They keep her in the house. Peggy Parker, Margaret’s her birth name, is supposedly what would now be called developmentally disabled. Maybe autistic spectrum. They used to say it was either put her in an institution or keep her in the house with a full time nurse.”

“Supposedly?”

Ray crossed his arms over his chest and leaved against the counter. “Britney told me, Aunt Peggy’s not retarded.”

“Then what is up with Aunt Peggy and what does it have to do with Britney’s death?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

“Mackie Parker just got moved to the top of my list.”

“Funny, mine too.” The machine beeped behind us, the smell of good strong espresso rich and blasting the last of oversleep from my head. Ray said in a low voice, “Does the blood drinking bother you?”

“Dude. I can’t even go there.”