metal—it was better than a professional massage, better than the comforting burn of whiskey, even better than her ex-boyfriend’s ministrations. It made her feel a little less guilty to be sitting next to a child whose face had been torn off. Just a little.
Elise walked into an abandoned house. The doors had been left open, and rain made the carpet squish under her feet. She used the phone to call McIntyre.
“Fly to Guatemala. I need you here,” she said.
His responding silence was long. “Elise…”
“Did you see what happened with the last bell?”
“How could I miss it? It was a massacre in the Warrens.” He paused, and Elise thought she heard his girlfriend crying in the background. “You’d laugh if you saw how the news is trying to explain the deaths away. They’re calling it a new outbreak of SARS. Those mundane bastards will make anything up to avoid seeing the truth.”
“There won’t be eyes to see if you don’t help me,” Elise said. “My aspis is out of commission. I need backup.”
“And my aspis is pregnant.”
Nausea flipped Elise’s stomach. She gazed at the body on the couch. Flies were starting to cloud around it. “If you want Leticia to live to give birth, you need to help.”
“Screw you,” he said without real ire.
“You can be down here in twelve hours. We’ll go get this together. It’ll be the Grand Canyon all over again. Call some of your friends—I know you have a lot of them.”
“And I’m the only one you have?”
That was probably meant to sting. “I have better things to do than make friends. Your priorities are fucked up.”
This was an argument they had been through a dozen times. McIntyre switched tactics. “Would you leave James to save the world?”
Yes. That was the plan, after all.
“Just get down here,” she said. She gave him the coordinates of the condominium. He said that he wrote them down. They hung up.
Elise found the Book of Shadows in a puddle of mud. Half of the pages were stuck together. She didn’t need to be a witch to tell that they were ruined.
She stole a bottle of pills from an unoccupied pharmacy to soften the blow. James was covered in sweat and half-asleep when she returned to the condo on the beach. “Here,” she said, folding two pills into his hand. “Sorry it took so long. Have you slept?”
“Barely.”
He swallowed them while she looked at his knee. It had swollen to twice its normal size. She suspected there were torn ligaments and arterial damage—the kind of thing that would require surgery if he planned on walking again. “You’ll get over this in no time,” Elise lied.
He laughed. “Good thing I don’t dance anymore.”
She took an avocado from her jacket, sliced it lengthwise, and pried the pit out with her knife. He took half. “At least all the dead people mean we don’t have to pay for food.”
He stopped laughing.
By the time he ate the avocado and some plantains, James’s color had improved, and he didn’t look like he was in nearly as much pain. “We can’t move you to a city for surgery,” she said. “We don’t have time.”
“I know. But I think I can heal myself, with your help…and the Book of Shadows.”
She handed the Book to him. His face fell.
“Is it enough?” she asked.
He flipped through the pages and gave a hard swallow. “It will have to be. I can do a ritual.”
“Why? You’ve written spells more powerful than this. You could fix yourself in a half second.” She took the Book of Shadows, flipping through it to one of the pages in the very back. James jerked it out of her hands.
“All my benign healing spells were destroyed.”
“So use one that isn’t benign.”
“Do you see this?” He turned it to show her a page. It was completely obscured with ink. “This is all I have left. It would ‘fix me,’ but requires a small sacrifice.”
“How small?”
“If I used you as the subject, it would also render you unconscious for a week.”
She
Elise walked into an abandoned house. The doors had been left open, and rain made the carpet squish under her feet. She used the phone to call McIntyre.
“Fly to Guatemala. I need you here,” she said.
His responding silence was long. “Elise…”
“Did you see what happened with the last bell?”
“How could I miss it? It was a massacre in the Warrens.” He paused, and Elise thought she heard his girlfriend crying in the background. “You’d laugh if you saw how the news is trying to explain the deaths away. They’re calling it a new outbreak of SARS. Those mundane bastards will make anything up to avoid seeing the truth.”
“There won’t be eyes to see if you don’t help me,” Elise said. “My aspis is out of commission. I need backup.”
“And my aspis is pregnant.”
Nausea flipped Elise’s stomach. She gazed at the body on the couch. Flies were starting to cloud around it. “If you want Leticia to live to give birth, you need to help.”
“Screw you,” he said without real ire.
“You can be down here in twelve hours. We’ll go get this together. It’ll be the Grand Canyon all over again. Call some of your friends—I know you have a lot of them.”
“And I’m the only one you have?”
That was probably meant to sting. “I have better things to do than make friends. Your priorities are fucked up.”
This was an argument they had been through a dozen times. McIntyre switched tactics. “Would you leave James to save the world?”
Yes. That was the plan, after all.
“Just get down here,” she said. She gave him the coordinates of the condominium. He said that he wrote them down. They hung up.
Elise found the Book of Shadows in a puddle of mud. Half of the pages were stuck together. She didn’t need to be a witch to tell that they were ruined.
She stole a bottle of pills from an unoccupied pharmacy to soften the blow. James was covered in sweat and half-asleep when she returned to the condo on the beach. “Here,” she said, folding two pills into his hand. “Sorry it took so long. Have you slept?”
“Barely.”
He swallowed them while she looked at his knee. It had swollen to twice its normal size. She suspected there were torn ligaments and arterial damage—the kind of thing that would require surgery if he planned on walking again. “You’ll get over this in no time,” Elise lied.
He laughed. “Good thing I don’t dance anymore.”
She took an avocado from her jacket, sliced it lengthwise, and pried the pit out with her knife. He took half. “At least all the dead people mean we don’t have to pay for food.”
He stopped laughing.
By the time he ate the avocado and some plantains, James’s color had improved, and he didn’t look like he was in nearly as much pain. “We can’t move you to a city for surgery,” she said. “We don’t have time.”
“I know. But I think I can heal myself, with your help…and the Book of Shadows.”
She handed the Book to him. His face fell.
“Is it enough?” she asked.
He flipped through the pages and gave a hard swallow. “It will have to be. I can do a ritual.”
“Why? You’ve written spells more powerful than this. You could fix yourself in a half second.” She took the Book of Shadows, flipping through it to one of the pages in the very back. James jerked it out of her hands.
“All my benign healing spells were destroyed.”
“So use one that isn’t benign.”
“Do you see this?” He turned it to show her a page. It was completely obscured with ink. “This is all I have left. It would ‘fix me,’ but requires a small sacrifice.”
“How small?”
“If I used you as the subject, it would also render you unconscious for a week.”
She
Similar Books
