~*~*~
The apartment complex Jessica and Melvin lived in was just as creepy during the day as it was after dark. I parked Sean's car, turning the engine off. Bridget got out first. She dug around in her pockets. She produced her pack of unfiltered cigarettes and her Zippo. The smell of tobacco wafted in the air as I climbed out.
“I'm masking my scent,” she explained. A smoke ring blew toward me. I waved it away.
Bridget looked rattled as we stood outside the apartment. I felt pretty rattled myself. The turn of my life in the last week hadn't left me exactly thrilled about my future prospects. This was of course assuming I had some sort of future. I could easily see my body being found in a dumpster somewhere.
“Come on,” Bridget threw the cigarette down. She squashed it with her foot.
I led her inside and up to the apartment. “How do we get in?” The plan to get Fernando back didn't extend this far.
“I'll get it open.”
I figured this meant she had some sort of spell to unlock it. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when she tried to kick the door in. I was especially surprised when the wood splintered and the door swung open.
“I spelled my shoes.” She pointed to her sneakers. “When I first bought the bar I kept having to break down the bathroom door. Junkies hanging out, doing illegal crap. I could easily have stored the spell in my wand, but I look like a badass when I kick doors open. So, I spelled a bit of wood and glue it to my soles.”
“Can you spell my boots?”
“Sure. But let's discuss that later.”
“Right.” I peered into the apartment.
Everything was the same as the last time I had been in. The only difference was the lack of a second coffin in the bedroom. Fernando's cage was perched on the counter, with the toaster in full view. Bridget rushed over and grabbed the cage.
The chinchilla hopped around. She took out her familiar and let him climb onto her shoulder. I felt a pang of grief for Sasha. I wanted to be reunited with my baby.
“Alright, let's go,” I said.
Bridget reached into the pockets of her hoodie. “Anise extract.” She opened the bottle. The smell overpowered everything else. “It'll cover our tracks. When they come to check on Fernando they'll know it's us, but they won't be able to scent us to Angie's safe house.”
I was glad to have Bridget a few steps ahead of me. First the door, now the anise. I was impressed. She upended the contents of the bottle on the carpet. The already overpowering smell nearly knocked me over.
“Let's go.” She cradled Fernando in her arms. “Grocery store? Then we can wake Sean up.”
Fifteen
“Salt, pepper, and hot water normally serve to break a spell.” Bridget explained as she searched through her cabinets.
She had given me a book on hoodoo. It had dog-eared pages from much use. There were plenty of different kinds of witches. Earth, black, white, hoodoo, hedge witches, etc. To the BSB there was no difference. A witch was a witch and needed to be licensed to practice his or her craft. I had just assumed Bridget was an earth witch. Most in the area were. Looking through her spell book, with its many notes, I knew better.
I had never seen a real spell book, much less one of such a little practice magic in Illinois. There were spells for love, necromancy, health, luck, spells to make one’s life better or to destroy the life of an enemy. I looked at the sleep spell that Bridget had showed me. According to her book it induced prophetic dreams.
“But,” she squatted down, investigating the bottom shelf of the pantry. “I have a charm here somewhere that'll wake him up without soaking him and getting salt and pepper water on the floor. “Here you are!” She pulled out a beat up box of Count Chocula.
I watched her dump the contents onto the table. I sat on the floor next to Sean's immovable body. He breathed, but had not moved a muscle since dropping.
Bridget had a few odds and ends scattered on the table. I sat up to get a better look. Feathers, buckeyes, sturdy pieces of wood, vials of God only knew. She grabbed a wooden amulet with a piece of amber in the center. It hung on a leather string.
“The amber takes something negative and turns it in positive and the cypress wood holds a reversal spell.” She explained. “I used to spell myself by accident as a kid. My mom bought this for me. It should have a spell charged.”
“I hope so.” I didn't want to explain salt and pepper water to Sean. “How does it work?”
Bridget went to one of the drawers near the sink and grabbed a sewing kit. “I prick Sean's finger and take one drop of blood. Easy, easy, easy.” She took the amulet and a spool of thread with a needle stuck into it.
She sat next to me. Gently she took hold of Sean's lifeless hand, rubbing his fingers to get blood into the tips. “Sterilize this.” She handed me the needle and her Zippo.
I ran the flame over the needle, not sure how to tell if it was sterilized. When the tip turned black Bridget nodded. “Now go use some hand sanitizer from the bathroom. That should do it, right?” She was asking me? Like I had a clue. My normal days didn't consist of cleaning needles to prick people.
I did as instructed. I used a bit of toilet paper to wipe the needle down with sanitizer. Returning to the kitchen I handed it to Bridget. She pricked Sean's finger just enough to break the skin. Again she rubbed his finger. One droplet of blood surfaced. Bridget held the amulet to it, letting the drop circle the amber. It created a moat around the stone in an indentation I hadn't notice before. Bridget draped the amulet over Sean's head as best she could.
No reaction was forthcoming. I was beginning to think maybe the wood wasn't charged with a spell.
“I don't think-” I was cut off as Sean gasped into awareness.
He propped himself up on his elbow quickly like he was going into a plank position. “Christ!” he panted. “What the hell?”
“I accidentally gave you the wrong coffee,” Bridget lied. We were both on our feet, helping Sean up. “I meant to spell Samantha so she'd sleep. Then we could go get my familiar.”
I gaped at the ease of her lies. Sean looked around, bewildered. “What's that smell? Smells like...liquorice.”
“We dropped some anise at the Kleins' apartment,” I said. I needed some truth in the kitchen. “Bridget said it'd make it harder to track us.”
“Smart move,” he mumbled. We helped him to one of the folding chairs. He eased into it, looking confused and worn. He lifted up the amulet.
“I didn't want to dump water on you. The effects of the sleeping spell are going to be lingering. I suggest keeping the amulet on for a while or you're going to go right back to bed.” Bridget put a cup of coffee in front of Sean. He nodded a thanks and drank it. “Samantha is going to make some pancakes.” Bridget continued.
I crossed to the counters where we had dumped the groceries. Eggs, flour, sugar. I unloaded each thing quietly while Bridget told Sean about our daring rescue. I wanted to tell him about the man in my office, but he wouldn't take too kindly to us using his keys to break in. So I settled myself on autopilot to make our lunch.
I put a pan on the stovetop, turned the heat on, and went about mixing everything together. After half an hour the mixing bowl soaked in the sink and a stack of pancakes sat on the table between Bridget and Sean.
Sean forked a pancake onto his plate, liberally adding butter and syrup. “I really think you should report this whole thing. I don't know why you haven't already.”
“I think Angie spelled me,” I said. I took one pancake. After this morning's panic attack on the street, I didn't feel much like eating. “Bent me to her will.”
“I believe it.” He cut up his pancakes and shoveled a big piece into his mouth. “I had my first car wrecked because my vampire ex-girlfriend held my eyes long enough to convince me she should drive. But you can report it now.”
True. I could call Balicki and Hill. “Tomorrow. I want that auditor to see that I'm guiltless against these accusations
.”
Bridget looked up from her food. She had an anxious look on her face. “What do you think Angie will do?” She knew I planned to hand the BSB agents Angie's file. There was no reason to look so nervous. They could protect her donors and if she'd let me do that from the start some of this mess could have been avoided.
“You should both worry a little less about what Angie thinks.” That was easy for Sean to say.
I touched the bruise around my eye. I cared a great deal what Angie thought. What little appetite was in me disappeared. I pushed my plate away. “When you're done eating, can you take us to the safe house?”
Sean's eyes locked with mine. Worry lines creased his forehead, making him look older than he was. “Do you need to pack anything?” he asked, turning his attention to Bridget.
“I'll have my sister take me just before sunset. I want to get some stuff at the store.”
I excused myself to make sure I'd repacked everything into my bag. My heart raced even as I knelt on Bridget's floor taking stock of the few belongings I had. I wanted to feel safe again. The best that could be hoped for was Simon didn't locate the safe house tonight.
He wouldn't right? Angie seemed to elude him, even after encountering him and Jessica. If she could escape his grasp even when he had her in it, then I'd be safe. Right?