That Touch of Magic (32 page)

“Yeah, well if it’s any comfort, I don’t think she does, either.”

Peach touched my arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. It just happened, and all of a sudden it was out of control.”

“None of this is your fault,” I said. “Go back home, be with Nick, and stand by the phone. If we’re in the hospital again tonight, I’ll call you. If we’re not in the hospital tonight, I’m gonna kill her, and you don’t want to be an accomplice.”

“Okay.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “We are going to have a lot of drinks when this is over.”

“It’s a date,” I said. Peach left and I pushed my way through the crowd to get to the porch. I touched the Widow’s arm.

She looked at me, smiling. “Stacy,” she said warmly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Turn off the lights, Widow,” I said under my breath, and then I turned to look at the crowd. “Show’s over, people! Go home!”

The Widow closed her eyes and shut down the glow. The crowd began to grumble with disappointment, but the Widow waved her hand and silenced them.

“You may stay,” she said. “The time for my sacrifice is now, and there must be witnesses.”

“Widow,” I said, but just then the crowd parted and there was Desmond, walking through the throng carrying a wicker basket full of little purple vials.

“For my lady,” he said loudly, making a show, “I bring my offering.”

He lifted the basket up above his head and she took the handle, fawning over it as though it were flowers.

“Thank you so much, Desmond,” she said. “I’m ready to make my sacrifice.”

My heart pounded as I finally understood what she was talking about. I grabbed her arm.

“I don’t want to be the one to discourage you from doing something unselfish,” I said. “Everyone should have every experience at least once, but … you’re not going with him.”

She set the basket of vials on the bench behind us and put her hands on either side of my face.

“This may be hard for you to understand,” she said, “but it’s what I must do. It’s the only answer.”

Desmond moved closer, and I put out a warning hand, letting all of my emotion flow, and the air around my palm started to dance with heat.

“Don’t you move,” I growled. “She’s not in her right mind, and if you take one step closer, I swear, I’ll set you on fire.” I looked back at my mother. “Go inside. Lie down. You’re not going with him.”

“No,” the Widow said. “I’m not.”

For a moment, just a moment, I was relieved. And then, I looked again at the basket of vials in her hand. Purple vials. Not the cure, but the continuation, the stuff that would keep the magic going. I lowered my hand, not because I was releasing my threat on Desmond, but because the shock made it impossible for me to hold up my arm on my own power.

“Mom?” I said, my voice warbling.

She smiled at me, her eyes filling with tears. When she spoke, she spoke loudly, so that everyone within a country mile could hear my mother betray me.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son,”
she said. “And I so love you all, that I give my one and only …
daughter.
”

She motioned for Desmond to move closer, and he did. I just stared at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Desmond and I have talked,” she said, “and he’s promised me that I can continue my ministry, my work, my sacred calling. He’ll keep me stocked with all the potions I need, and I can make sure that Ms. Troudt and the little checkout girl get what they need, too. In return, all he wants is you.”

I heard Desmond’s footsteps coming closer behind me, but I didn’t even bother to look at him. I just stared at
her.

“I’m a grown woman. You can’t give me away to someone. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Well, one of us has to go,” she said, “or he won’t give us the formula. Isn’t that right, Desmond?”

“That’s about it, yes,” he said.

“See?” She focused back on me. “Deidre Troudt and that checkout girl don’t have the kind of power we have, so it must be one of us. And it can’t be me. I have my flock.” She motioned out at the crowd, all of whom were still watching.

I motioned to my face. “Do you see this? Just last night, this guy hit me in the face. He split my lip.”

“Oh, darling.” She reached up and gently touched the bruised side of my face. “Do you expect me to believe you didn’t provoke him?”

It took me a moment to realize that she’d actually said what I thought she just said, but still, all I could choke out was a raspy, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. You know how you get when you’re angry.”

I knew what was coming. I knew it. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself. “No, Widow,” I said, my voice thick. “How do I get?”

She blinked twice as though shocked I would even have to ask, and then she said, “You’re ugly. Vicious. Mean. Maybe Desmond can help you with that. The good Lord knows I couldn’t, but we all have our failures.”

How that could take the breath out of me, how that simple statement I’d heard a thousand times before could break the last of my will, I’ll probably never understand. But it did. I could feel it. All the fight just drained out of me. I’d been fighting so hard to change things, to make them different, to save my mother, to keep Leo … and none of it mattered. Nothing ever changed. There was no winning.

It was over. Leo was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. My mother was hateful, selfish, and incapable of loving anyone, and she was never going to change. I’d miss Liv and Peach and Nick and Tobias, but they had one another; they’d be okay without me. And if I went with Desmond, he’d give the cure to Deidre and Clementine. I could see to that much, at least. I wasn’t needed here anymore. I could just … go.

It was insane how comforting that was, that act of just letting go. As awful as everything was, the idea of not having to fight anymore was so welcome. Acceptance flowed through me, and suddenly my stomach was calm, my shoulders unclenched. This was it; this was my life.

I didn’t have to fight anymore.

I turned to look at Desmond. “I won’t go with you until you’ve given the cure and the formula to make more to my friend Cain. You have to give him both.”

There was a flash of surprise on Desmond’s face, as if he hadn’t been expecting it to be so easy, and then he looked from the Widow to me, and there was almost an expression of compassion there.

“Of course,” he said.

I nodded, then turned to the Widow.

“Well,” I said. “This is it.”

She smiled. “Don’t be so maudlin. It’s just for a little while, until Desmond gets his proof published. We’ll see each other again.”

“No,” I said. “We won’t.”

I turned to Desmond. “You ready?”

He pushed up off the railing and held out his arm, motioning for me to go first. I started down the porch steps, keeping a few steps ahead of him, my eyes focused on his silver car. About halfway down my mother’s walk, he took my elbow to guide me.

I allowed it.

*   *   *

I stared out the window at the darkening sky as Desmond drove. He had the good sense to remain silent for most of the trip, until we pulled up at the B&B.

“Did you need to go home, get some things?” he asked as he pulled my door open for me. “We’ll be leaving tonight.”

“Nope.” I got out and patted my messenger bag. “What I don’t have in here you can buy me on the road.”

Desmond raised a brow, but wisely didn’t say anything else. On numb legs, I followed him into the B&B, feeling somewhat out of my own body. The day had been so full of loss and pain and betrayal that it was like my entire soul was bruised beyond the point where I could feel anything. I followed Desmond mutely through the back entrance, the kitchen, up the stairs, to the hallway …

Past the half-moon table in the hallway. I stopped and stared down at it, blinking as though coming out of a fog.

“Everything all right?” Desmond asked, stopping at his bedroom door.

“Mmm?” I glanced up at him. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll wait out here.”

He skillfully lowered his eyes, approximating an affect of shame he didn’t feel at all, although I had to wonder why he bothered. He took a few steps toward me, and I took a step back.

“I am truly sorry,” he said. “I get … difficult when I’m thwarted. But now that we’re working together, of our own free will, I’m hoping we can put that unpleasantness behind us and be … well … if not friends, then friendly.”

I pretended to think about that for a bit, and then I lied. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

He smiled. “Excellent. I’ll just be a moment.”

I waited until he was inside the room, and then I carefully picked up the letter opener and slid it under the lid of the half-moon table the way I’d seen Addie do when we were here before. The hidden drawer popped open, and I carefully put item by item into my messenger bag until I got to the tranq gun. I took the needle out and examined it for a minute, amused by the puffy red ball at the end. I had no idea what that was about, but I figured, the people who made these things knew what they were doing, right? With shaking hands, I pushed the plunger on the dart until all the tranquilizer liquid was spit out into the drawer, and then I pulled out my little hamster-sized Samsonite. I got the top off the tiny vial and inserted the tip of the needle, pulling the plunger back until it sucked up every last bit of the potion inside. I had just gotten the dart back into the tranquilizer gun when Desmond walked out of the room.

“We’ll have to make one more stop on the way out of town. I’ve kept the cure in a safe place, as I’m sure you can understand.”

That’s when Desmond looked at me, and registered the dart gun in my hand.

“Well, hello,” he said.

“Hello.” I held the gun out and pulled the trigger.

It clicked. Nothing happened.

“Shit,” I said. I pulled the trigger again.

Click.
Nothing.

“Shit.”

“What are you doing?”

I sighed. “Nothing. You know me. I can’t help myself. I just never give the fuck up, you know?” I held up the gun. “Tranquilizer gun. Addie’s probably never used it, and apparently, it doesn’t even work.” I set the stupid thing on the table and shook my head at it.

He laughed. “And what was your plan? You’d knock me out and get away? How would that have helped you or your friends?”

“You’re right. I didn’t think it through. I’m just stubborn, you know? It would be so much easier if I would just give up. Why do I have to make things so hard on myself? Why can’t I just give up?”

He angled his head in a carefully contrived look of sympathy. “I understand. I’m the same way. I mean, look at all the mayhem I’ve caused here, all in the single-minded pursuit of one thing. I’m quite lucky, in that I don’t feel the consequences of it as much as you do.” He hesitated a moment and then said, “You know, I do have an idea that might make things easier for you.”

“Yeah?”

“You feel things very deeply, Stacy. You try to pretend that you don’t, but even I can see it, and I have hardly any emotions left at all. It just seems that all this might go a bit easier on you if you didn’t have to struggle so with all of that. After the way your mother betrayed you, and with Leo unable to love you anymore—”

Anger flared hot inside me. “Don’t you ever say his name to me,” I growled.

“Of course,” he said, reminding me of the polite, reserved Desmond I thought I had known. “My apologies.”

“Fuck you,” I said.

“Fair enough.” He lowered his head, faking sensitivity. “At any rate, I do have some more of the Anwei Xing root. If you’d like, before we leave, we can stop by your charming little garden shed and I can mix something up to help you release all of this and move forward.”

I gave a bitter chuckle. “Oh, yeah. Two sociopaths making their way through the American countryside. What could possibly go wrong?”

Desmond laughed, too. “Yes. Well. It is possible to be a functioning member of polite society.”

“Until there’s something you want and you get all single-minded about it,” I said.

He shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

“Keep your thought,” I said. “I’m going to pass.”

“All right,” he said, then looked pointedly down at the tranq gun on the table. “I will have to ask you to step back while I retrieve that gun. Better safe than sorry, you know.”

I looked down at it, the stupid, pointless weapon on the table, and that’s when I saw the little orange switch on the back of the handle.

“Huh,” I said numbly.

“I’m sorry?”

I looked at him, wondering what the chances were that I would be able to grab the gun, flip the switch, and shoot him before he got to me. Even in my stunned and emotionally battered state, I could think clearly enough to know I’d need a distraction. I reached into my messenger bag, and Desmond started toward me.

“I do wish you’d stop this, Stacy,” he said. “It’s not going to be any easier on you if you keep—”

The Edison vial smashed at his feet, and he stopped, stunned. While he was looking down at the puddle of blue liquid at his feet, I reached out and quietly flipped the safety on the tranq gun, but was unable to grab it before he looked back at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not certain of your intent here. Are you hoping I’ll slip on this?”

“No,” I said.

“Then what…?” He stopped speaking as the sunflower began to sprout. He knelt down and examined it closer.

“Did you do this?” he asked, a hint of genuine wonder in his voice. Apparently all his emotions weren’t dead.

“Yes,” I said simply.

Desmond smiled up at me. “And you’ve had no formal training?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I had no idea you were so good, Stacy.” He pushed on his knees and stood up. “That’s quite impressive.”

“Well,” I said, “I’m an impressive girl.”

And then I grabbed the gun and shot him in the stomach.

Chapter 18

Desmond looked down at his middle and laughed, although I think it was mostly out of shock.

“You shot me,” he said. “You bloody bitch.”

He pulled the dart out, the red bobbin at the end bouncing with the movement. I could see from where I stood that the plunger had gone all the way down; every last drop of that potion was inside Desmond.