The rain started and had yet to let up. The constant tapping on the windows soothed my mind. I sat with Bridget in the basement. Sean left as the sun set. His last kiss still lingering on my lips as I turned the TV on.
“So, like, if you canoodled on that bed I am going to be so mad,” Bridget said.
I settled the TV on a random movie station. Two old women fought over a cake and tea. “I did not canoodle on the bed. And what makes you think you get the bed?”
“If you take that bed, I am crawling in it with you.”
I was dog tired. Unless Bridget snored or squirmed in her sleep, I couldn't have cared less. But I didn't think I'd be able to sleep again. I'd probably keep her up the whole night with my tossing and turning.
“You can have the bed. I'll sleep down here.”
“Damn straight.” She smiled triumphantly.
We sat enjoying the movie. Her mere presence was a comfort now that Sean had gone home. I had never been the kind of person that needed to be around other people. Sure, I went out with friends. I enjoyed a good conversation, but I could also entertain myself. This whole week I hadn't wanted to be away from other people. I hated Simon for taking away my confidence in solitude.
Upstairs the door opened and closed. Bridget and I both sat up straight. The bickering old ladies on TV were the only sound. “I brought some more food.” Angie's voice carried downstairs.
Relieved we turned the TV off. In the kitchen Angie dropped another canvas bag on the counter. “I had one of my donors get food this time.” Thank God.
I rooted through the bags. I hadn't eaten since my one bite of pancake. My stomach growled, but I didn't want Sean to leave me alone to get food. I didn't like bananas and the pie was highly suspect. I praised Angie's donor silently. Pre-made salads and some frozen chicken nuggets. Not the best, but edible. She'd even gotten Cheerios and milk for breakfast. There was a six pack of root beer.
I dug into one of the salads without bothering with dressing. Bridget took the other. She found a cookie sheet, never used, under the stove. She dumped the chicken nuggets onto it, turned the stove on, and began eating her own salad.
“Did you get the file?” Angie asked.
“No,” I said. I put my half eaten salad on the counter. “I want to hand it over to those BSB agents who have been helping me.”
Bridget busied herself by locating two mugs and filling them with root beer.
“That's the opposite of what I want.” Angie put her hands on her hips, looking like a tiny Wonder Woman in leather pants and a biker's jacket.
“I'm not going to lose my job.”
“You shred those documents after six months anyway!” She got very close to me, before I could look down, but what I saw was fury. Okay. She'd spelled me before. Don't lock eyes.
“Yeah, but I'm being watched closely. And if I make a report that says you have twenty-five notaries for the month of April. You damn well better have twenty-five!”
“Then lie!”
Bridget put a mug in my hand. “Someone else was looking for those notaries today,” she said. She forced her way between Angie and me. “Samantha didn't destroy anything, but she hid the notaries in another file.”
I took a sip of the root beer. My eyes stayed on Angie, even though she now focused on Bridget.
“Let her hand them to these agents. They want her safe.” I had told Bridget about Balicki and Hill. How they wanted the audits to be halted and me to be kept safer.
My head felt light. I put an unsteady hand against my forehead.
“Trust Exercise.” I turned to Bridget. She looked shamefaced.
“What? Oh, you bitch.” My body rushed for the floor and everything went black.
Sixteen
My dreams were vivid. I walked an ethereal plain at night. The stars swirled around like Van Gogh's “Starry Night”. Wherever my foot fell the grass died. If I did not move fast enough the rot laced up my leg. I walked on, never slowing, not sure where it was I had landed.
I passed Bridget sitting on a rotting log under a cypress tree. Behind her was a swamp reflecting the starlight above. Her face had been painted white, though her eye sockets were black and her lips lined to look like teeth. She held a skull in one hand and an amulet in the other. No words escaped her though her lips moved frantically. She looked at me, mouthing her unheard words louder. The water of the swamp gradually changed color. The moon that had reflected yellow was now a deep red on the water’s surface.
I moved on. A great, brown wolf, Sean, stood on his hind legs dancing to an invisible tune. Above us I saw that the stars moved to his dance. His coat shone brightly. He tilted his head back and howled. The sound rocked me to my core. I stopped my gait to cover my ears. Even the stars halted their dance. He resumed his dance. The stars did as well. I pulled my feet free of the rot around them.
With each new step the filth fell away, but behind me a trail of black earth snaked a path directly to me. Onward I moved. The plain showed only Sean's wolf dance and Bridget's bloody cypress swamp. Everything else was a vast land stretching as far as I could see. I walked for a long time. Finally I came upon a pedestal. A crystal vial sat on it. My dream self knew I looked at the Tears of Christ. I reached out to grab the vial.
I came back into the waking world with salt and pepper water up my nose. I sputtered and gasped. My arms flayed out at some unseen attacker.
“Calm down,” Bridget gently scolded.
I lay on the kitchen floor. The first pinks and grays of dawn were visible through the window. I had been changed into my pajamas, now soaking wet.
“It's about six. Angie changed you, tucked you into bed, and then dragged you out of bed at four. Guess she didn't want water to damage the mattress. She demanded I get up at four too.”
“Couldn't you have used that amulet?”
“It wasn't charged. How do you feel?”
“I had some trippy dreams.”
“Yeah, I don’t have a standard sleeping potion, just one that supposedly gives you prophetic dreams. Whenever I’ve been on the receiving end I haven’t had any prophecies, just weird dreams.”
I thought back to my dream. Bridget painted up to look like a skull. In the soft light of dawn she just looked tired. I thought about what Sean had said about things being safer for Others now. I thought about Bridget's reaction to Simon.
“How are you?” I asked.
Bridget blinked. “Fine. Since you're up I'm going to get some more sleep.”
I nodded, pulling myself off the floor. “Can I ask you a question first?” Bridget shrugged, but made no comment. She stood expectant for my questions. “Sean said he used to have to worry about being abducted by a rival pack. What was it like for you before the BSB?”
“Mostly fine. We only knew of one witch near our family, then of course my uncle is a turned werewolf, but we generally lived quietly. Being unimportant within witch and Were hierarchy no one cared what we did.”
“But you knew Simon?”
“In a way.” She cracked her knuckles. I thought I had overstepped my bounds. I didn't know her all that well, why should she share anything with me? “He killed my girlfriend when I was eighteen. Before the BSB, vampires were real clever. They'd slit wrists or string victims up to make deaths look like suicides, always leaving tidy notes of regret. Allison met Simon at an art show. She was unaware of Others. I tried to warn her, but he spelled her same as Angie spelled you. Drained her, slit her wrists to hide the bite marks, and left her for dead.”
I wanted to hug Bridget and apologize, but what good would that do. There had to be years between that tragedy and now. I stood awkwardly.
“I went to New Orleans after some serious acting out.” I watched her unconsciously touch her sleeved arm. Her hand rubbed the area where I’d seen her burn scar. “Angie actually accompanied me down there. I took the train with her coffin in tow. Said I was transporting my grandfather to be buried in Louisian
a. My aunt sells earth charms down there. I picked up hoodoo and eventually came home. Had Allison been attacked with the BSB in force murder would never have been ruled out, but she'd be gone all the same. The BSB leashes us because humans are scared, but I suppose there's solace in the small things. Like Simon and his cronies are being investigated now before they have a chance to hurt anyone else. Well, I'm tired. So have a good day at work. Come by the bar afterwards. I think Angie has something brewing.”