What Voodoo Do You Do? Read online

Deep inside my dreams, I transformed the ringing phone into the gong of the bell in my magical belfry. I turned the notes I heard into cartoon flowers that sifted away from the bell on air currents created by singing birds.

  I know, crazy, right? And I hadn’t even had any wine the night before to explain my strange dreams. Mumbling at the bell, I told it to be quiet, and rolled over, pulling my pillow with me on a weary sigh.

  Gong!

  Where the cartoon flowers hadn’t even come close to waking me, the real thing ripped me from sleep and yanked me upright on the bed. Blinking dazedly, I looked around for Monty, but he wasn’t in bed with me.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face and yawned. Nails clicked down the hall. My little fuzz-butt came through the door with his leash in his mouth again. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What gives?”

  He barked happily, his tail wagging with canine enthusiasm.

  Climbing wearily out of bed, I shuffled toward the bathroom to do my thing. “I think you should become Lares. You’re better at this than me.”

  He barked again, dropping the leash and dancing around it.

  “I know. I know. Just give me a minute to p…” My cell phone rang again, the sound like bullets hitting my brain in the morning silence. I narrowed my gaze on Monty. “Did you do that?” He didn’t answer me. Of course he didn’t. He only cocked his cute head and gave me a doggy grin.

  I washed my hands and hurried back into my room to grab the phone. As I answered, my gaze slid over the plastic tarp hanging from the ceiling on one side of the room and the fine layer of dust coating everything. I sighed. Trish had been making great progress turning the three rooms on the north side of my house into a master bedroom and bath and my future candle shop.

  But everything would grind to a halt until we solved the pesky vortex problem.

  Even as I had the thought, a sense of despair swept over me. What if I had to throw myself into the vortex to stop it from growing? My pretty little church-house would never be finished. Was that what had happened to the last owner? The one who’d remodeled the kitchen and nothing else? I shook off the dire thought and answered the call.

  “Morning, Shadee,” I said into the phone. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Bring your staff,” she said, her voice sounding husky as if she’d just been yanked from sleep as I had.

  The call disconnected. I looked at the phone with a frown. My staff? I didn’t have any staff. I had a council. Was that who she’d meant?

  Scratching sounds brought my attention around to Monty. He was scrabbling beneath my closet door, his fuzzy butt in the air.

  “I’m not going to change, buddy,” I told him, grabbing his leash. “Come on.” I’d taken to sleeping in yoga pants and loose t-shirts since taking up the Lares gig. There were just too many middle-of-the-night emergencies with the job. I’d gone in my PJs once and never wanted to do it again.

  Gren was never going to let me forget the dachshund-covered PJs or the hot-pink fuzzy slippers I’d worn to save a little girl and her family from a deranged family member.

  Speaking of dachshunds, my very own little food terrorist was digging more frantically beneath the closet door, whining unhappily.

  “Monty, come on, or I’ll have to leave you here.”

  He dove toward the door and tried biting the wood. I could already see deep scoring in the soft pine. “Hey!”

  Then it hit me. The staff. Shadee had been talking about the pretty stick I’d gotten when I became Lares. Under encouragement from my dad, who I’d recently learned was also a Lares, I’d tried to play with it once. That would be the last time. I’d exploded a tree in my front yard, sending it toward the clouds like a leafy rocket. After that, I decided to use the stick as a prop only. A prop I never intended to use. “Oh, swear no,” I said.

  I walked over and picked up my dog. “Come on. If you got the summons too, the fates must want you there.”

  He slid a bright brown gaze back toward the closet where I’d hidden the stick after the tree incident, whining softly.

  “Nope. Not doing it. Not until I have time to figure out how to use it without blowing everything up.”

  I deliberately shoved the traitorous thought that I’d had a few weeks of relative quiet to practice. If only I’d been woman enough to risk blowing up another tree.

  Nope.

  I tucked Monty into my car and closed the door, heading around to the driver’s side. A shape detached itself from the shadows near the house and I yelped, a hand flying up to send a golden wash of energy flaring outward.

  The shadow was no longer there.

  Instead, my magic hit a large bush near the candle shop door, blowing a cloud of dark green leaves into the air.

  The light from my magic illuminated the hard lines of a stern face with dark silver eyes that were snapping with pique. “What have I told you about letting your emotions rule your actions?” The snotty advocate asked.

  I pulled air into my lungs and released it in a frustrated gush, before glaring back at Ferral. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me?”

  To my surprise, he grinned, which only made him look more striking. I shook off the notion and let my magic ease away. “What are you doing skulking around my house?”

  “With the vortex opening nearby, we decided you needed someone to stay close. Just in case.”

  My lips twitched. “You drew the short straw?”

  “Short straw?” He frowned. “Why are you talking nonsense?”

  His snottiness sucked the smile right off my face. “Never mind. You might as well come with me to the senior home. Shadee called. Something’s happened.”

  Monty led the way to the entrance of Golden Years, which, to my surprise, was unlocked. The interior glass door was also unlocked, and the lobby was again empty. I peered around the usually pristine place, frowning. Something felt off about it. Even if Shadee hadn’t called me, I’d have known that something was wrong.

  “What is it?” Ferral asked. He moved up next to me, his silver gaze sliding around the lobby.

  “I don’t know. Something feels…” I rubbed my hands over my arms, feeling gooseflesh beneath my palms.

  “Like rancid oil coating your skin?” he asked, grimacing.

  “Yeah. It’s nothing I can put my finger on. But the place feels spoiled somehow.”

  He slid a finger over a nearby table, showing me the oily soot he’d picked up. “Hell smut.”

  I raised my brows. “Are we talking dirty pictures here?”

  His brows drew in.

  I shook my head. “Never mind. I’m guessing that’s some kind of dirt?”

  Ferral nodded. “Smut is a fungus. It gives off a dust-like substance that clogs everything.”

  “And why is the lobby covered in Hell smut?”

  His gaze slid to the glass doors leading to the courtyard, where some kind of illumination danced across the glass. It wasn’t fire. But something was flickering beyond the door. “The Underworld is full of the stuff. It covers everything and makes it hard to breathe.” He nodded toward the courtyard. “I can feel the vortex from here. It’s like being wrapped in razor wire covered in acid.”

  I grimaced. “Thanks for that mental picture.”

  Without responding, Ferral turned on his heel and strode toward the outer glass door. I started to follow and stopped, a sense of unease prickling beneath my skin. Glancing toward the door separating the resident rooms from the lobby, I murmured, “I should go get Shadee.” She’d called me in. She deserved to know what was going on. Besides, she might be able to help us stop it.

  “Madam Lares?” prompted a deep, arrogant voice.

  I turned to Ferral. “I need to go get the night nurse who called me.”

  “Was she the only one here?” he asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  Ferral’s expression softened briefly. It happened so quickly I would have missed it if I hadn’t been focused on him. “There’s no need to get her,” he said, his gaze slid
ing toward where I knew the vortex to be. “She’s out here.”

  The way he said it sent ice crystals flowing through my veins. I hurried toward him, steeling myself for something I suspected would stick with me for a very long time.

  I slid through the door, and Ferral let it close.

  If I’d been blindfolded, I would have still known that something evil permeated the space. I felt its stain against my skin, its foul stench biting at my nostrils.

  It was the reek of brimstone and death, overlaid with the putrid odor of hopelessness.

  The vortex had burst the bounds of the tiny well. It had spread into a rough-edged circle that stretched toward the building’s walls on three sides. The open side had spread across the courtyard, its churning edge a mere fifteen feet away from where Ferral and I stood.

  But it was what hung above the vortex that caused my stomach to twist in fear. I gasped as I realized what it was.

  A large form hung in mid-air five feet above the maelstrom. The figure was covered in a dark robe, its hood covering the person’s head and falling in tattered wisps from large hands and long, strong legs. The face was shrouded by the hood. The body disguised within the loose, ratty robe. But I recognized the small piece of blood-red cloth wrapped around an assortment of herbs and small bones and tied with beads. The gris-gris had hung around Shadee’s neck for as long as I’d known her. As far as I knew, Shadee wore the amulet all the time, rarely taking it off. She’d once told me a powerful gris-gris woman in New Orleans had made the talisman for her and that it had kept her safe for three decades.

  The bits of bone and herbs didn’t seem to be protecting her anymore.

  Hot tears slid down my cheeks and, without thinking, I started forward, magic snapping at my fingertips. I would get her away from that monstrous Hellpit or die trying.

  Ferral grabbed my arm and stopped me. “You can’t help her now. The best thing we can do is kill the vortex. If she’s still alive, hopefully, the witches can save her then.”

  I knew deep in my heart he was right. But seeing her that way, my memories showing me her bright eyes and wide smile, it just about killed me not to do anything. “We have to help her.”

  Ferral didn’t respond. A fact which told me more than anything how dire the woman’s situation was.

  I stared at the obsidian surface of the maelstrom. It boiled with oily menace. Something moved beneath the surface. A constant switch and swirl that gave the impression something was going to burst free at any moment. My mind told me to run. But my sense of duty kept my feet stationary on the sooty ground.

  As Ferral had predicted, Hell smut covered every available surface, painting the brick walls in clogging soot and flattening the once green grass beneath its weight. The concrete sidewalks that circled the small courtyard and led to the pavilion in the center were covered in the stuff too. Their once-bright surface had turned a dull leaden gray beneath the smut.

  The stuff filled the air, painting the windows until they were opaque and making it hard to breathe.

  Monty bumped against my leg and I looked down. He was staring at the space above the vortex, his usually bright gaze dark with fear. A low, constant growl rumbled in his throat.

  I held tight to his leash, not wanting him to get too close to the Hellpit. Even as we stood there, I sensed the edges expanding a fraction of an inch. Left to its own devices, the thing would easily consume the entire building within the week.

  A deep, overwhelming sense of urgency flooded me.

  I had to stop it.

  6

  The Vessels for an Oily Hate

  I looked at the advocate. “Any idea how to stop this thing?”

  Ferral’s frown deepened at my question. “No. I just wish the Historian’s information had been more helpful.”

  “Historian?”

  “Yes,” he said, turning to me. “The girl. Clearly, she is a magical chronicler. Though, the spell clouding her aura is a bit perplexing.”

  “That’s a groundhog day curse. I’ll tell you about it after we stop this thing. Maybe you’ll have some ideas how we can rid her of it.”

  He nodded. “Obviously, we aren’t going to fling you into the Hellmouth as she suggested.”

  I thought he was having a little fun with me, but when I looked at his face, he appeared perfectly serious. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  He nodded, completely missing my sarcasm. “The dilemma is that the vortex isn’t vulnerable on its exterior. We can pelt magic at it all day long from out here, and it will just go about its business.” He covered his mouth with a hand, brows lowering in thought.

  “I think I can put a pretty big hole in it with my magic. Wouldn’t that kill it?” Despite my determination not to use the staff, I was thinking its super-sized, highly-uncontrollable energy beam could probably pierce the maelstrom pretty deeply.

  “No. The vulnerable area is too deep below the surface. You’d need to get closer to do any harm.” His gaze slid to Shadee, and he squinted. After a moment, he swore softly.

  “What?” I followed his line of sight.

  Ferral sighed. “Use your sight to see.”

  He’d said something similar to me once before when I’d missed some magical tethers and nearly killed Wanda as a result. At the time, I’d somehow managed to pull the invisible strings of power into view…metaphorically making my eyes into a pair of magical binoculars…but I had no idea how I’d done it. I chewed my lip, unsure I’d be able to do it again. Taking his cue, I squinted my eyes.

  Nothing.

  Shadee seemingly floated above the abyss, face down and spread-eagled, with no discernable strings keeping her in the air.

  With a sigh, Ferral reached over and gently pushed my head forward. I resisted, “Hey!”

  “You’re looking too high,” he said in a voice that was filled with disgust. Apparently, my lack of magical training was a constant source of frustration for him.

  Poor baby.

  I adjusted my view downward and squinted again.

  Nothing.

  The soft fluttering of wings behind us had me whipping around, energy biting my fingertips as I prepared to blast the bat hovering above my head into next week.

  Vibrant yellow eyes stared down at me, the batlike wings stroking the air. The creature made a series of squeaking sounds as if trying to tell me something.

  I shook my head. “It’s no use,” I told it. “I don’t speak bat.”

  Look again, a familiar voice said inside my head.

  I stared at the bat. “I have been looking.”

  The bat hovered in the air, its scary yellow eyes locked on me.

  Sighing, I turned back around. Staring at the space above Shadee, I still saw nothing. So, I slid my gaze downward.

  And gasped.

  A thousand micro-thin strands of energy rose out of the muck of the abyss and pierced Shadee’s aura. My first thought was that the vortex was holding her there. But then a worse thought hit me. “Is it…?” I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. “Is that thing feeding on her?”

  Ferral grimaced and crossed his arms over a broad chest. That was all the answer I needed.

  A soft wash of air coated the side of my face as the bat fluttered between us. Yes.

  My knees softened. “Oh. Goddess. No.” In that moment, I understood why the previous Lares had flung himself into the abyss to kill it. The thing had probably taken a vulnerable victim to feed upon, and he hadn’t known of any other way to kill it.

  “There has to be a way…”

  Ferral’s gaze narrowed on me. “Have you been practicing with your staff as I requested?”

  I almost laughed at his choice of words. Ferral didn’t request anything. He demanded. Which, due to a serious character flaw in yours truly, was guaranteed to make me dig in my heels. “A little.”

  Make that one time. Blowing up the tree had scared the fudge right out of me, and I’d marched back into the house and stowed that sucker in the far back corner of th
e closet. Out of sight was out of mind.

  Mostly.

  His squinty gaze told me he didn’t believe it. “You must contact your father.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Why?”

  “He can train you in the use of it. Your staff is meant to be like your right hand. It’s key to doing your job. You must learn how to wield it.”

  Pushing aside the memory of Shadee’s last words to me…Bring your staff…I shook my head. “This is no time for me to get bogged down by training. We need to fix this, or Shadee’s toast.”

  Clearly exasperated with me, Ferral made a little sound that was suspiciously like a growl. “What does a hard piece of bread have to do with that voodoo queen?”

  I just shook my head. I didn’t have time to teach the advocate English either. “Trust me on this. Learning how to use that stick is going to take me a while. There will be a lot of chaos and exploding of nature in the interim. I need to keep my focus on the problem at hand.”

  Besides, I couldn’t help thinking, I didn’t need training to blow holes in things. I’d already mastered that.

  He stared at me a moment as if trying to see past my skull into my brain. Then he shuddered. Maybe he’d found his way to the part in my mind where I stored all my grooming secrets.

  That was enough to make anyone shudder.

  Goochy Goochy Goo, Your Mom Needs you. Goochy Goochy Go, She Won’t Take No!

  Goochy Goochy Gum…

  I stabbed a finger on the screen to stop any more of Mavis’s poor taste in jokes from staining the smut-filled air. “Hey, Mom. Ferral and I are at Golden Years again. The vortex is bigger. Lots bigger. And…” I swallowed hard. “It’s got Shadee.”

  There was a beat of silence, and then Mavis’s familiar voice came through the line. “Aggy! You need to hurry. There’s a demon in town. And it’s going to kill somebody.”

  I felt my eyes bugging out as we entered Rome. The usually quaint town looked like a tornado had gone through, flinging cars, concrete flower boxes, and anything else unlucky enough to cross its path into the street. Uprooted trees dotted the small park in the center of town, and several store windows had been shattered.