Wicked by Any Other Name (8 page)

“You didn't forget the seasoned fries, did you?” Stasi asked. She loved the fries with tangy seasonings on them as much as the barbecued sandwiches.

“Of course not, and it's a large order.” Blair arranged napkins and wet wipes—absolutely necessary with sandwiches that were as messy as they were delicious.

“What about me?” Felix, the Kit-Kat clock, asked from his hanging position on the wall.

“You can't eat our food,” Blair pointed out.

“I bet I could if you'd let me try.” His tail twitched in a very un-clocklike manner, while his large eyes ticked back and forth.

“There are days when I'm convinced dogs would be less trouble.” Blair sat down and picked up her drink. “But then I remember how they shed and drool and some have nasty gas and the feeling goes away.”

“Bogie's not like that!” Stasi argued.

“You forget about the night he got into the salsa.” Blair made a gagging sound. “Don't worry, I love your furry buddy; he's sweet.” She chuckled. “Not like Fluff and Puff, whose to-do list details every insidious idea known to witch. Although there are times they come in handy when someone pisses us off,” she muttered. “Maybe Jazz should rent them out. She could make a fortune.”

Stasi studied her friend, whom she felt she knew as well as she knew herself.

“Did anything happen at Grady's?” she asked, half-afraid to inquire. She'd noticed more than one town resident hurrying past her shop as if even that was tainted. “Did someone say something?”

Blair looked up and smiled, recognizing her friend's worry. “Nothing more than the usual customers arguing politics and others discussing the upcoming Halloween festivities. And Grady feels that Carrie is nothing more than an empty-headed idiot and wouldn't even make a good statue. His words. He admitted he hoped we'd turn Carrie into a cockroach.”

Stasi unwrapped her sandwich, allowing the rich aroma of mesquite-grilled meat and grilled onions to invade her senses. She picked up one of the cups that held Grady's homestyle hickory sauce and drizzled it over the meat. The sounds she uttered as she bit into her sandwich were not unlike those of a woman in the throes of passion.

“If Grady wasn't seventy-two I'd marry him for his cooking alone,” she murmured.

“Considering we're both much older than he is, we'd be the ones robbing the cradle.” Blair set the large paper dish of seasoned fries between them and squirted out a liberal pool of ketchup.

“Sometimes I wish we hadn't told them what we are.” Stasi looked off into the distance, her sandwich momentarily forgotten.

“People are more sophisticated now. We would eventually have had to use glamours to change our appearance. How many more times could we have come back here as our nieces or granddaughters or even split up as we've done?” Blair brought up. “And then basically sneaking out here every month to the lake because we know there's power there, even if we don't know what it is.”

“I wish whatever it is would give up its secrets. We did ours. Only fair to reciprocate.” Blair dipped her fries in the ketchup.

Stasi pinched off some meat and allowed her hand to drop. Tiny teeth nibbled away with amazing delicacy—Bogie couldn't resist the barbecued meat either.

“You need to talk to Trevor Barnes,” Blair announced.

“He's not my lawyer.” Stasi concentrated on her food.

“As if a little thing like that's stopped us in the past. Maybe he can reason with Carrie.”

“Nothing's happened yet and there's no court date set, so I'm not worried.” Of course she was, but she wasn't about to admit it. Plus, she didn't really want to see him again. Not as long as he had those red hearts over his head.

“Pull the other leg,” Blair scoffed.

Stasi sighed. She should have known she couldn't fool her.

“I know what. Let's see if Jazz can come up early. She might have some ideas for us.”

Stasi looked toward the window and watched a gust of wind pick up a piece of paper from the sidewalk and send it flying. Ed Ramsey, who owned the video store, pulled his jacket up around his ears and trudged down the sidewalk.

“We'll have snow soon,” she said, without thinking.

Blair looked up. “We're not due to have any snow for at least another month. It still isn't cold enough.”

She shook her head. “No, we'll be having an early snowfall, and it could be a heavy one.” It wasn't a gift, but Stasi was almost always accurate when it came to reading the weather. If she said they'd have an early snowfall, they would. “Maybe it's due to the retrograde, but the air feels heavier and out of balance.”

“We can't make the world perfect, Stasi,” Blair said gently. “It's not our job and I'm very grateful it's not.”

“But something's going to happen,” she insisted. “I can feel it deep within me.”

“That's the lawsuit and nothing more,” Blair argued, then relented. “All right, Mercury retrograde isn't helping, but let's not read something into it that isn't there. We can't be paranoid, Stasi.” She sighed. “I'll close early and fix dinner.”

Stasi nodded. She finished her sandwich and her share of the fries. Once they cleaned up the table, she returned to her shop.

But for once her heart wasn't in it.

***

“The air smells heavy,” Horace announced, watching Stasi finish emptying the cash drawer.

“Air can't smell heavy.”

He drew in a deep breath, his chest expanding until it looked as if it would burst then he blew it out with one fast exhalation.

“Heavy air. Not good.”

She shook her head. “Have you been sneaking upstairs and watching horror movies again?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh puleeze! Those filmmakers don't know what true horror is. No, this is our world, not the humans'.”

Stasi felt a faint skittering over her flesh as if spiders crawled up her arms. She quickly put away the moneybag and headed for the door.

When she opened it, something lying against the door fell backwards onto the floor.

Stasi felt a chill chase across her skin as she bent down and picked up the object.

“Put it down!” Horace's order rang out so loud she dropped it.

“How can you see what it is?” she asked.

“I don't need to.” Within seconds, he was beside her. His face was scrunched up as if he smelled something incredibly bad.

“Destroy it,” he ordered, backing away. “Don't hold it again, don't study it. Just get rid of it. It's not good.”

Stasi didn't question Horace's command. She was aware he knew more about magick than he generally let on.

“Pretty dolly oh so sad. Pretty dolly oh so bad. Pretty dolly I say nay. Pretty dolly go away if you please.” She waved her hand over the object and it sizzled and sparked before turning into a pile of dark ash. “It should be white,” she murmured, knowing any time she turned an object to ash it was grayish-white, not the dark gray she was staring at.

Horace looked on from a distance. “Not with this kind of magick.”

She looked at him. “What kind is it?”

He shook his head. “I'm not sure, but I do know it's not something you should be around.”

As Stasi stood up, a chilling blast of wind blew past her and she shivered.

Once upstairs, Stasi thought she'd never been so happy to be in the warm, brightly lit kitchen with Blair. She said nothing about the incident to her friend.

She knew this was something she had to deal with herself. Because she was positive Carrie was somehow behind this. Anyone who could hire a wizard lawyer could also hire someone to cast dangerous spells.

“Ma'am? Miss Stasi? Please wake up!”

Stasi groaned and rolled over. “Oh Fergus, please don't!” She opened one eye a slit and saw darkness out her window. “It's not even dawn.”

“Please, ma'am, somethin's real wrong and we need your help.”

Stasi opened both eyes and stared at the wavering figure standing at the foot of her bed. While she could always see through the ghost, this time he was nothing more than a vague shadow. She sat up, shivering at the chill in the air.

“What's wrong?”

“We don't know,” he replied, twisting his hat between his hands. “'Member Cyrus? We were talkin' and he just up and disappeared.”

She pushed her hair back and struggled to think, but sleep was pulling her back. She mentally zapped herself awake and reached for her soft fleece robe lying across the end of the bed, accidentally upending Bogie who had snuggled inside it. He uttered a soft growl of protest and moved over to curl up in a pile of warm blankets.

“Perhaps he was tired of barely existing here and moved into the next realm.” She wrapped the robe around her and stood up, teetering back and forth a bit as her bleary brain tried to wake up.

Fergus shook his head. “No, he wouldn't move on, not if he could help it. Cyrus always said there was no reason to go elsewhere. That all he knew was here. And Rena's gone, too. And some of the others look like I do now. There but not there.”

Stasi searched her memory banks, then recalled the woman who had once worked upstairs at Lil's. Rena liked crossing the veil during October because she enjoyed the company of men. More than one man during the Halloween season revealed that he'd felt the icy chill of a small hand on his private parts. Others woke up convinced someone was having sex with them and it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences, either. Stasi couldn't believe that Rena would move on. She enjoyed her trips here too much.

“I suppose you couldn't wake up Blair.” She knew how much her friend adored sleeping. Waking Blair up was a major project.

“She sorta woke up and threw a book at me. I guess she forgot it'd only go through me.” He grinned. “She's not going to be too happy when she sees she broke a vase.”

“Serves her right.” She looked at Bogie and nudged him back awake. “You know the drill, baby. Go wake up Auntie Blair while Mommy makes coffee.”

Bogie yapped once and took off like a streak of light… literally.

Stasi muttered a few choice words when she saw that the clock blinked two a.m.

“Why can't anything happen in the middle of the day, or even early evening?”

By the time Blair's curses and mutterings died down and she showed up in the kitchen, Stasi was sitting at the table drinking coffee and warming a coffee cake in the microwave oven.

“Honestly, Fergus, maybe you don't need sleep on your realm, but we still do,” Blair grumbled. “Damn, it's cold! Heater, turn on. Make it so!” She waggled her fingers in the direction of the thermostat. A moment later the furnace kicked on. She poured herself coffee and plopped down in a chair. “What's going on now?”

“Cyrus, Rena, and some others have left their realm,” Stasi said quietly.

“Like a vacation left?”

Stasi shook her head.

“You mean they're gone gone?” Blair chugged her coffee in an attempt to wake up.

The microwave timer dinged and Stasi got up to collect the coffee cake, which she set on the table along with a knife and forks.

“Fergus!” She spoke sharply when the ghost started to dim. “You need to concentrate on remaining here.”

He bobbed his head. “Yes, Miss Stasi, but it's not easy. It's as if I have this feelin' I'm goin' away too.”

“Why would this be happening?” Blair forked up a bite of coffee cake.

“I don't know.” That was what worried Stasi. She was presented with a problem she couldn't solve. She enjoyed problem solving, especially with romance, but this was much more important. She considered the ghosts friends. For them to lose what little existence they had was frightening.

“Ma'am.” Fergus's eyes were wide with fright, which wasn't normal for a ghost, who shouldn't experience the emotion. But Stasi knew when realms grew unstable anything was possible. And that was what she feared was happening now. She sipped her coffee, hoping the caffeine infusion would push her brain into some sort of alert mode.

“I don't know why this is happening to some of you,” Stasi said, glancing at Blair, who yawned widely and nodded her agreement.

“You said there was all this stuff goin' on. Retro something,” he said.

“Mercury retrograde, and the upcoming lunar eclipse.” Stasi rubbed her forehead, wishing she could easily conjure up answers, but she knew it was never that simple.

Fergus opened his mouth to say something, but a plaintive howl from outside stopped him.

“That damn dog,” Blair muttered. “There's not that much of a moon out there to howl at.”

Stasi cocked her head and listened. “No, that's not a howling at the moon sound.” She stood up and moved to the window over the sink that gave them a prime view of the woods. She frowned at an odd light that flickered in the distance. “There's something out there.” She rushed to the back door and pulled it open, running out onto the small deck. She looked back inside. “There's odd lights over the lake.”

Blair shot to her feet and followed Stasi as she practically flew down the stairs.

“There's nothing magickal in the woods,” Blair said, running to keep up, grateful she'd slipped on her favorite fuzzy duck slippers and not her stiletto mules.

“Nothing that we sensed.” Stasi dodged low-hanging branches and bushes as she continued running toward the lake.

What was usually a peaceful ten-minute walk was a four-minute dash as the two witches ran along the path they'd taken many times before. As they broke past the stand of trees to reach the open area surrounding the lake, they found the Border collie barking and howling as he ran along the bare dirt.

“Okay, boy, we got your message, what's up?” Blair called out.

The dog stopped and ran back to them, continuing to bark.

“Sheesh, you'd think he was Lassie warning us Timmy fell into a well.” Blair tried to grab for his collar, but he danced out of their reach and ran closer to the lake, then stopped short.

The lights they had seen from the house appeared brighter and danced over the surface of the lake.

“What is this?” Stasi moved forward toward the rock outcropping they walked upon each month when offering up to the moon. Blair was fast on her heels.

“
Oomph!
” Both witches suddenly bounced off an invisible barrier and fell backwards onto their butts.

“What was that?” Stasi slowly got to her feet, rubbing her rump, which had struck a sharp rock when she fell.

“I don't know.” Blair stood up and this time walked a great deal slower until again, she hit the barrier. Stasi followed her and both raised their hands, feeling what they couldn't see. They jumped back when dark green sparks flew off the barrier and burned their palms.

“Barrier we can't see. Barrier we refuse to flee. Barrier reveal thyself, make it so!” Blair shouted, throwing her hands out.

The barrier shimmered with her power, then threw it back at her with enough muscle to send her flying backwards a good ten feet to land on her back.

“Damn it!” Blair lifted her head and glared at the barrier as the dog ran over and licked her face. “Ick! Dog germs! For Fates sake! You're licking my face after you probably spent most of the evening licking your balls.” She tried to push away the dog, but he kept coming back to lick her face again.

“Are you all right?” Stasi asked, helping her up.

“Nothing's broken.” She brushed leaves and dirt off her robe. She stared at the barrier and the green light orbs hovering over the water, sometimes moving closer to them, then dancing away. “Where did this come from? There was no sign of it two days ago when I was out here.”

“I don't know.” Stasi approached the barrier with tentative steps. After what happened to Blair she wasn't about to take any chances. She kept her power under control, not allowing even one spark to appear. If it could throw Blair that far, she didn't want to think what it might do to her if whatever fueled it got really angry.

“Let's see if it goes all the way around the lake.”

“Then can we go back and put on warm clothes? It's freezing out here!”

Stasi nodded. “Good idea. Whatever this is, I don't think it's going anywhere.”

They didn't run back to the house, but they did hurry and changed into warm clothing in no time.

Stasi pulled her jacket hood up over her hair as they returned to the lake. Even with her fleece pants, wool gloves, and heavy jacket she could feel the hint of snow in the air.

“We've never had odd lights float over the water before,” Blair commented.

“That we've known of,” she replied. “We only knew about it tonight because the dog was howling and we were already up.”

“Maybe that's why Fergus was feeling odd.” Blair kept a respectful distance from the barrier as they walked the circumference of the lake. The dog kept pace next to her, his tongue lolling, as if they were out for a middle of the night stroll.

As they walked, Stasi cast periodic glances toward the woods. She sensed something unsettling among the trees, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Since she didn't feel any malevolence, she didn't mention anything to Blair.

“The lunar eclipse didn't cause this,” she said. “This was created by magick.”

“Yeah, but whose?”

“I didn't exactly finish the course on all the alternate magicks.”

“Whoa, snappish much?”

Stasi winced. “Just feeling unsettled.”

“Aren't we all.” Blair stared at the rock as they finished the walk and ended up where they began.

Stasi walked slowly toward the barrier again, but this time licks of fire appeared along the bottom edge, slowly sliding upward until a wall of flame covered the barrier. She couldn't feel any heat coming from it, but she knew it could hurt her as easily as real fire could and probably even worse, since it was created by magick.

“That's not good.” Blair tugged on her arm, pulling her backwards.

“No kidding.” Stasi gulped. “I think we need some help with this.”

“What in hell is that?”

Both spun around as the dog lowered his head and growled.

Trev stood at the edge of the trees, dressed warmly even if his hair was unruly. He looked as though he had thrown on his clothes, not caring that pillow creases marred his cheek, his face was slightly puffy from sleep, and his hair was going in all directions. He stood there staring at the flame-covered wall.

“What do you see?” Stasi asked, not bothering to wonder why he was there.

He didn't reply right away, but looked intently at the barrier. “A barrier created by magick to keep certain types of magick out. Namely you. The flames are a warning. Normally you can't see anything.”

“Which is why we literally ran into it,” Blair said. “So, Counselor, any reason why you're out here in the middle of the night on
our
property?”

He grinned at her. “You know the drill. Magick calls to magick. Any idea what it is?”

“None,” Stasi replied, determined to ignore the red hearts over his head even as she noted with dismay they seemed to have grown larger and bolder in color since the last time she saw him. “What about you? Do you have any thoughts on it?”

Trev walked forward, his hands held up high, palms out. He ignored the Border collie, who appeared to consider him an interloper and was staying on the wizard's heels as if to keep a close eye on him.

“Don't get too close,” Stasi warned him. “Blair tried finding out what it was and it practically threw her against a tree.”

“Someone put a lot of power into this,” he murmured, studying it as if it was a complicated problem. “First to erect the obstacle, then to protect it from intruders. It's nothing I'm familiar with, but there are many forms of magick out there that I've never had to deal with before. A spell this strong could only have been done with blood to bind it.”

The witches shivered in fear. Spells requiring blood were dangerous and powerful. Ones they wouldn't even consider.

“You never answered Blair's question. Why are you out here?” Stasi asked, noting that his eyes seemed to have a glow of their own in the dark, along with the hearts' glimmer.

“I woke up and felt something odd floating through the air. I felt drawn to here, and when I saw strange lights over this way I thought I'd investigate.”

“Why don't you run along, Counselor,” Blair suggested with a bite in her voice. “I'm sure you wouldn't want Carrie to see you with us. Don't worry. We witches are used to cleaning up messes and we'll do just fine here.” She looked down at the dog, who'd grabbed hold of her sleeve with his teeth and was gently pulling on it. “Hey! I'm talking here.”

The dog whined and pulled again.

“What's his name?” Trev asked, grinning at the dog's persistence and silently thanking him for his aid. He was hoping to have a chance to be alone with Stasi.

“Pain in the ass,” Blair snapped.

The dog snorted on her sleeve.

“He doesn't have a name?” He realized she was joking… sort of.

“He's not my dog.”

“He's been a lucky stray in that he looks well groomed and well fed and…” Trev looked downward, “hasn't been neutered.”

This time the dog's growls were more canine snarky.

“It seems that's a medical procedure he intends to avoid,” Blair said, trying to get the dog to release her sleeve, but he only tightened his hold.