Curse It (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 1), page 21
I nodded sympathetically. "I understand."
"It was great, at first. It was like I could pretend it never happened. I stayed with Violet and went about my business. I had a little bit of money saved up, and Violet didn't charge me anything for rent, so I hung out with friends who were going to ASU. About a week in, Zack came to me."
"What do you mean Zack came to you?" I prodded.
"He spoke to me."
"Where did this happen?"
"In the room I was staying in at Violet's. He came to me and told me he was sorry he left me and that he was trying to get back to me."
"What did you say to this?” I tried for patience.
"I know it's stupid. The dead can't come back, but here I was, living with a witch, and I started to think it might be possible. At first he was sweet, but different.” She stopped talking, twisting a napkin into a crumpled mess.
“Different how?” I prompted.
“His voice was different, but he said it was from crossing over, that it changed him a little, made him a little wiser."
A good cover story to tell a grieving young woman.
"At first it was nice to have Zack back. Then he told me Violet cursed his motorcycle, causing the accident. He wanted me to watch her. Said she could bring him back, but I couldn't say anything to her. He said she would kill me."
That story should have been a hard sell even for a grieving young woman. "Did he say why Violet would have killed him?"
"He said she was bitter and jealous of our love. In retrospect, that seems kinda silly. I mean, she knew about us from some emails we exchanged. We were friends on Facebook, she saw pictures of us, but she never even met him. Still, I believed him. I started watching her and she suddenly saw how guarded she was. Then there were these patients who came by the house. Some of the men were scary. When they came by, she told me to stay in my room, but I peeked. The ghost said they were part of an evil coven that preyed on the weak, that they stole people's blood under the guise of lab work, to cast evil curses on them."
I worked hard to keep my face sympathetic despite my annoyance at the evil witch doctor stereotype. "Okay, what did he want you to do about it?"
"He said he couldn't watch her all the time and wanted to know when the men came to see her or if I saw anything strange. I told every time there was a man in the house. Once I started paying attention, I realized they kept a regular schedule. He also told me to look out for anything that she was hiding, so we could blackmail her with it."
“Did you find anything?”
“Just the puzzle box I gave Ivy. She said she’d given it to you.”
“Did you know its contents?”
She shook her head. “No I just found it hidden under her bed one night when I was snooping. I couldn’t open it.” She didn’t realize it was magically activated.
"Were you there the night Violet was killed?"
Imogen hung her head down, her long dark hair sheltering her face. "I had gone to stay with another friend for a few days. Zack didn’t like that, but I was scared. I decided to go back one more time and, I don’t know, spy on Violet? I thought about confronting her. Zack convinced me that Violet was evil, but after he started acting strange, I began to wonder if he was who he said he was. I parked really far away from Violet’s and was walking toward her house, but then someone called out to me and chased me. It freaked me out.
Wonderful, I was the great intimidator. “Sorry, Imogen, that was me. I saw you and thought you might have known Violet.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “Well, I did know her, and for all I know, I got her killed. I went and hid at a friend’s house, but I should have known a ghost would be able to find me." She straightened from her slumped position taking off the sunglasses. They weren’t meant as a disguise, they were hiding an angry shiner. The deep-purple coloring her eye spread out into yellows, blues and greens on her cheekbone. A veritable rainbow of pain.
I hissed in a breath. "Yikes."
"Yeah, but I got away. He was so caring, until I said we should go to the witch sheriff. Violet hadn't always been evil, and if she was up to no good, the other witches could help, and they would punish her. I didn't know what he thought a human or a ghost could do. When I insisted it was the right thing to do, he got really angry and hit me. I left, intending to go to the witches, but the only witch I knew was Violet. I didn't know who or what to believe at that point. I hid until Ivy called and told me Violet was dead. She asked me what the hell was going on. I don't know, but I didn't know what to do. I even went to church and asked a priest about exorcism. He thought I was crazy and suggested I speak with a professional."
"Have you heard the ghost since you left Violet's?"
"I just told you, he finds me. I was couch surfing at a friend's when he woke me up this morning. He said he was sorry, but I needed to help him complete his mission so he could come back to me. I already knew he wasn't Zack, but I pretended to agree with him. I’m just glad I didn’t give him the box."
"What did he want you to do?"
"He wanted me to find you."
I stiffened in my seat, my magic rushing to my palms as I used it to scan the room. It wasn't until I pushed my magic out to the parking lot and not finding any signs of an invisible aura, that I relaxed slightly. "You decided to lead him right to me?" My voice was low.
She flinched. "No, I left where I was staying and called Ivy as soon as I could. It was weird that she told me to talk to you; it's like all connected."
“Okay, well, now you know I'm a witch, and I work for the sheriff, I can tell you we're already looking into Violet's death. We know about your ghost, but he's not a ghost. He's just a man."
She shook her head. "No, I can't see him at all."
"He was the victim of a curse that makes him invisible to women. Currently, we're looking for him, and we intend to find him. In the meantime, please tell me you have some male friends, or have the means to go home and stay with your father.”
She nodded. "Yeah, I have enough money to get back to Tucson. My dad would be happy if I stayed with him."
"Good, now were you supposed to meet with the ghost once you found me?"
"He told me to call a number. I thought it was odd with him being a ghost and all, but he said he could listen to a message if I left one, and then he would come to me."
"Can you give me the number?"
"Of course." She pulled out her phone and a pen, and then wrote the number down on a napkin.
"Perfect. Now, can you call the number and leave a message telling him to meet you at Violet's house at seven tonight?"
Her lip quivered slightly as though Grant could hurt through the phone, but she did as I asked and called the number and left a message. Her voice shook a little, and I hoped Grant would think it was nerves versus fact that he was being set up. She ended the call and powered her phone off before standing. “Thank you for helping me. I know Fortunes don’t usually help humans.”
I stood as well and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetie, if you’re ever dealing with this kind of issue you can call us. We don’t care if you’re human or witch, we want to keep the peace.” Pulling my hand back, I reached in my purse and took out one of my cards. “You can call me whenever you want. If you’re ever in danger and can’t reach me, call Bump and Grind in Tempe and ask for Pammy. She’s the witch sheriff.”
Imogen gave me a watery smile. “Thanks, I knew Pammy was the witch sheriff. I just didn’t know how to reach her.”
I gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze. “Promise me you’ll head straight to your father’s.”
“I will, as soon as I stop by a gas station.”
“Good, call me if you have any more problems.”
She nodded again and put her sunglasses back on, before walking out of the fast food restaurant. When a toddler let out an excited shriek near her, she jumped a little. Good, hyper-awareness would keep her alive.
As she walked to her car, I did another aura scan, pushing it in her direction until she was safely inside, engine running. Nothing out of the ordinary. I let out a long breath. I didn't envy her explaining the situation to her family, given its fantastical nature. Hopefully being raised with Violet as a close friend would make it easier. Either way, my gut told me she would be safe in her father’s house.
I hit the soda machine for a refill before getting into my car and making my next call. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a hold of Deval. I left a message. "I don't know why you want updates if you're not even going to bother to pick up your phone when I do call you."
Since it was already six, I didn't have time to wait for Deval, so I called Bruce. If anyone would be able to subdue a murderer, he would.
He was kind enough to answer on the second ring. "Peggy girl!"
"Never call me Peggy."
"Oh, come on, it's cute."
"When I hear Peggy, I see red bouffant hair, stiletto sling backs, and tight leopard print lycra."
"Peg Bundy is a TV legend."
A moment of realization washed over me. “Oh dear gods, you’re right. She went by Peg, not Peggy.”
“Does that make “Peggy” okay?”
“No, for some reason, it doesn’t.”
“I still think it’s cute.”
"Whatever, still not an approved nickname.” I said firmly. “More to the point, I need your help, and it could get ugly."
"Uglier than the time Lola had too many Jello shots, decided to dance on a bar, and fell off, nearly breaking her neck?"
"Well, this time you won't be fighting off ten drunk guys upset you're taking away their entertainment. But if it goes right, you'll get to beat down one man who wants me dead."
"Oh, honey, that sounds like a fun night, but don't tell me the big bad Fortune can't fight off one measly human."
"If only it were that easy," I muttered.
17
Bruce parked next to me around the corner from Violet's house, and we headed to the house. I had been smart enough to put Violet's keys on my key ring, so I didn't have to crawl through a pet door this time. There were some gouge marks around the doorframe that hadn't been there before. It didn’t make me too nervous since Grant had been getting in and out of Violet’s home for a while without a crowbar. Given Violet’s home business, I had a good idea who had entered the house.
We entered the house quietly, and I headed straight to the lab. As I suspected, the medical equipment was gone. The vampires had reclaimed their property. Good, it meant I no longer needed to worry about another witch stumbling on the lab and tarnishing Violet’s memory. Though the more I investigated her, the less likely that appeared to be a possibility. Violet didn’t seem to have any witch friends.
I pushed my magic through the house and found no issues. "He's not here," I turned to Bruce.
"Might as well take a load off," Bruce advised, heading back toward the living room where there was a good view of the front door. We would hear if the back door opened. The blinds were closed. We sat on the couch. Bruce sprawled while I perched, nervous and ready. Sitting on the hard cushion, I winced and shared a knowing look with Bruce.
"I will never understand why people choose style over comfort," he mumbled.
"You're preaching to the choir, sugar bear."
"Sugar bear, haha."
We both fell quiet then, not wanting to startle our prey with a masculine voice. After a while sitting on a hard surface would make your ass go numb. We spent time shifting uncomfortably before I stood up and quietly paced behind the sofa. Bruce stubbornly maintained his lounge position. Silence made time stretch, but we somehow managed to remain quiet, aware of ever creak and groan the house made. After what felt like an eternity, I checked my phone and saw that it was an hour past seven. "Damn it, he's not coming."
"Do you think he was watching the house?"
"Must have been, that's the only explanation I can think of."
"Thems is the breaks, kid." Bruce finally stood, lifting his arms over his head, and twisting his back from side to side, it audibly cracked.
"You should have stood earlier."
"Nope, I'm way too macho to complain about a hard sofa."
"You just did, an hour ago,” I pointed out. “What you are is too stubborn to live."
"And yet I will live on and on," he joked.
"That you will my friend, that you will. Any chance you could walk a vulnerable young lady to her car, kind sir?"
"Vulnerable my ass, but it would be my honor, young lady."
We left together, Bruce watching my back while I locked the door. He walked me to my car and went around the vehicle, looking inside and out to make sure I didn't have a secret passenger. He nodded, giving me the all clear. I opened the door and got in, rolling down the window.
Bruce leaned against the Jeep. "Well, lady, what are you going to do now? I don't like the idea of you going home alone."
My nostrils flared. My inner feminist chafed against the sudden restrictions placed upon me. That gave me an idea though, maybe a way to take back my power. "I'm not going home. I'm going to go ask Alice."
His mouth quirked at my reference. “That woman may be a nut, but she's a smart nut. What are you going to ask her?"
"How to break a curse that survives post mortem."
Bruce chuckled, the sound rumbling deep from his chest. "That would be a challenge even for her, but I wish you luck. If you need company later, to keep the bad guys away, give me a call."
"I appreciate that." I grabbed his hand. "You're a good friend, I hope one day you'll take me to doctor's appointments and call me grandma."
He smiled back, but I saw sadness flash over his eyes. The curse hadn’t just hurt the witches, but their friends, too. Until this week I hadn't realized it would be hard for the other races. But with Deval telling me the problems for goblin and witch offspring, and seeing Bruce worrying over my mortality, I understood that it affected everyone.
Bruce pushed past the melancholy and grinned wider. "I'm gonna call you Grandma Peggy."
"Oh good lord." I rolled my eyes.
I turned on the Jeep, letting the vibrations of its rumbling engine seep into my bones. Pulling away from the curb, I saw Bruce watching me. He didn't get into his truck until I was all the way down the street.
I walked up to Alice's Ruin and past the glamour. How she kept this a secret from the government was beyond me. Granted, plain-sight illusions were the best, but still...it was a pretty impressive feat. At the door, I forewent the bell pull and placed my hand on the door, the static pulsing of the powerful ward vibrating under my palm. I released a little of my magic, sending out the standard knock-knock. I didn't wait long. A second later the door opened by itself. I walked in, calling out a cautious, "Hello?"
"Peg, what brings you to my humble abode at this hour?" Her voice came from above me.
Looking to the left of the cavernous entry, I found her standing at the railing of the second-story landing. "I have some questions about a post mortem curse."
"Well, come on up then." She waved me toward the stairs.
At night it was dark in the ruin. The only lighting flickered from actual candle chandeliers hanging from the ceiling forty feet above. Closing the door, I started up the stairs, the flat beams covered in a thick carpet. With every step I took, the ambiance settled like a shroud. The building had plenty of strange energy during the day, but the late hour magnified it. Alice stood at the top, her lavender hair tamed into some pink sponge rollers. She wore a fuchsia housecoat and honest to gods bunny slippers.
A grin broke across my face. "I like your slippers, Alice."
"Thank you, my dear. They seemed fitting."
Coming to the top of the landing, I was happy to see her crystal-blue eyes lacked any cloudiness. I sent up a small prayer of thanks to the gods that be. "Sorry about the late call, but I have a tough one and thought you might know the answer."
"Don't concern yourself, dear. I prefer night to day. The dark brings with it a certain comfort that only hidden, secret things can, and I always love a visitor."
I laughed. "You sound like a character in an old gothic novel."
"My dear, I live in a ruin, I am a little mad on top of it, I am a caricature of a gothic novel protagonist. Or could I be the antagonist?" She wiggled her eyebrows.
"I suppose it depends on your perspective," I said, smiling. "Better than being the misunderstood monster though."
"That we can agree on. Dr. Frankenstein was a villain, that poor creature."
I nodded my head in agreement.
"What was this question you had about post mortem curses?"
That snapped my back to attention. "Why do they happen? And what can I do to break them?"
"Come sit by the fire. We can discuss theories, and I can tell you what your best chances are."
I followed to the little alcove we met in the last time I visited and sat in the chair next to hers.
"Now for your first question, I know the answer, but I can't give you a direct answer."
"Can't or won't?"
"As it falls into the realm of self-preservation, I'm going to say both. I would if I could, but the answer wouldn’t necessarily help you anyway. On to question two, what was the curse, who cursed whom, and why does it need to be lifted?"
I explained the circumstances behind Violet's death while Alice listened quietly, nodding occasionally.
When I finished explaining, she said, "Well, that's a tough one."
"Tough, how?"
"The theory is, that the dead decide whether to let a curse fade with their death or not, and I can't see why Violet would let the curse fade."
"Because he's a murdering sociopath who can be brought to justice?"
"Punishment is subjective, and Violet doesn't need you to get justice."
Taken aback, I tensed in my seat. "What do you mean by that?"
