Fire in Her Blood: Death Witch, Supernatural Investigative Unit, page 9
E had gone to a women’s college outside of Atlanta. The first of those letters came on white stationery rimmed in purple, the school colors. She liked her roommate, enjoyed her classes, and settled in. Things got rough around November of her freshman year and the near weekly letters got dark. One of the girls in the dorm had found out E was a witch and harassed her about it. The bullying was the sort of thing I used to address as a social worker, but it was hard to read through her spiral into depression. Then E fell in love with a dashing fire witch named Azhar, who put a stop to the bullying before he went off to war. With Jakob’s help, she tracked him down in Europe. I was reading about their happiness when my cell phone went off, interrupting my voyeurism.
“This is Mors.”
“It’s Saturday. Do you really need to answer the phone that way?” Anna’s breathy voice condemned me.
“Hey Anna.” I ignored her question. “What’s going on?”
“Not much, are you doing anything?”
“Ummmm.” Reading private letters I shouldn’t be. “Reading some chick lit.”
“Anything good?”
“It’s just getting good. Do you think International Relations is a cop-out major, like something you pick when you can’t pick anything else?”
“How would I know? I’m a model. My formal education ended at high school.”
I sucked in my breath in shock before I realized she could hear me.
“You’re okay with me being a lesbian but being a high school graduate gets you? I had no idea you were an education snob.”
“I’m not a snob. I just think everyone needs a college degree.”
“Everyone except models, actors, tradesman, craftsman, the list goes on.”
“You write for the paper part time. Doesn’t that mean you need a degree?”
“I write about fashion. I’ve got years on the runway. No one cares about a degree.”
“Wow, you never struck me as…” I stopped myself before I called her uneducated. “What makes you call?”
“I wanted to remind you about tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“The fair, for our church, for the big fundraiser.”
“That’s tonight?” Anna had told me about it, and Phoebe had given me a flyer, but I’d still forgotten.
“Today and tonight, but I know better than to invite you to things in the middle of the afternoon.”
“You’re such a smart girl. It’s a shame you never got your degree.”
“Very funny, Mal, really, hilarious. So you’ll be there?”
“With bells on, figuratively that is, they don’t still bell witches at your church do they?”
“How can you be so ignorant with your fancy degree?” I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.
“Anything else going on?”
“Let’s see. Raya sent me a personal message through your friend, my world is falling apart, and the fair, which I expect to see you at. That about covers it.”
“What was the message? Do I want to know how it came to you?” I’d never gotten a message from any god.
“You don’t want to know how it came to me, and the message was stuff I already knew.”
“Stuff you already knew, meaning?” I dug deeper. If she hadn’t wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t have mentioned it.
“Raya hates weakness and not telling Dad who I love is weakness.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly, so for now I’m worrying about the fair. I’ll deal with the other stuff later.”
“Is that really a good idea? I mean, if she took the time to send you someone.” I cringed at my mistake. I should have said a message, not someone.
“I doubt it, but I’m not ready to come out to the world yet. It’s weird enough having you know and the way E guessed…it scared the hell out of me. So for now, I’m going to worry about tonight.”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you after sunset.”
“Great, and don’t forget to bring money. This is for charity, you know.”
“Lots of money—got it. Call me if you need me.” I hung up the cell and dove back into the letters. I was deeply involved in liberty weekends on the coast and evening in sidewalk cafés when Jakob caught me.
“Good reading?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. He’d managed to get half dressed in jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, but his blond hair was still standing on end from sleep.
“I was…I mean…I just…” I stammered, then decided to go with the truth. “Yes. What happens with her and Azhar?”
“I’m afraid my dear lover asked me not to discuss that subject any longer this weekend.”
“That’s cruel.”
“You’ll have to keep reading.” He grinned and kissed me on the forehead. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Italian,” I said, inspired by E’s letters.
“You had Italian last night,” he called on his way to the kitchen.
“Yours will be better.”
He grinned with the compliment but then called from the kitchen. “Don’t get any ideas about dark skinned men with dark eyes.”
“You mean Azhar? There’s no description in here.”
“Check the box. There were photos,” he called again. I burrowed furiously inside the box, finally finding them in an odd-sized envelope at the bottom. E with her black hair reaching the middle of her back and standing beside her, laughing with her, was the man she loved. He was dark skinned, his hair shaved on the sides in a high and tight. Next to him, E looked tiny, smaller than she seemed arguing with Mark, even though I was sure she was still the same height. The photos were from all over Italy, but my favorite was taken in front of a fountain somewhere. Her white halter dress was blowing in a breeze that was captured forever, and he was in uniform, casual with his arm around her waist. She was laughing. He was looking at her, completely in love.
“Do you look at me this way?” I asked Jakob.
“Which way?”
I got up from the couch and went into the kitchen to show him the photo. “Like you’re totally in love with me, like this.”
“We’ll have to go to Italy and take a picture to find out.”
“Just tell me when,” I agreed with a quick kiss, then it was back to the couch and reading. She came home, and her letters to Jakob got shorter. She apologized and complained about how her hand ached after writing Azhar. The apologies stopped after a few weeks. With only half the correspondence, I had to guess Jakob had told her not to worry. Then in late March, her letters to Azhar started coming back to her. She called but couldn’t get him. I started to worry, and a letter written without any of her normal happiness confirmed my worst fears. It was wrapped around something on army stationery. He’d died in the Morality War, like a lot of other soldiers, but the rest of the letters were heartbreaking. It was impossible to read E’s words and not feel for the pain she was going through. I sniffed and found Jakob standing next to me with a handkerchief.
“He died?” I asked, crying fairly freely.
Jakob nodded.
“And he stayed dead? With healers, and all the things we have in this world, and he died?”
Jakob nodded again.
“That’s not fair.”
He sat down on the couch and wrapped me in his arms. “It never is, my love.”
I reached up and kissed him through my tears. E had lost her love, but I hadn’t lost mine. I moved the letters to the table without taking my lips off him. A few minutes later, we were in the bedroom and I wasn’t thinking about E’s story at all.
Eventually I let Jakob bring me dinner in bed. He’d made pasta fagioli. It was new, from a cookbook he’d picked up this summer. I didn’t mind, but in my world, Italian meant spaghetti, not beans. Even without the usual suspects, the dish was a thousand times better than the food we’d had last night. I had a forkful of his food in my mouth when Jakob pounced.
“After dinner, I thought we might go look at a new Mercedes.”
“Are you thinking of replacing your car?” I asked innocently.
“No, I’m thinking of buying you one.”
“I already told you I don’t need a car.”
“If you don’t need a car, why did you borrow mine?”
He had me. In fact, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I’d thought about it on and off all week. As long as Jakob lived outside of the reach of public transportation, I needed a car.
“Okay, fine. I’ll concede that it would be nice if I had a car. But not a Mercedes. If I have to have a car it should be something American, like a Ford.”
He groaned. Jakob was a car snob, he only trusted German engineering.
“All right, not a Ford, a Chevy maybe?”
The second groan was accompanied by a frown.
“Well, since we can’t agree, we’ll have to spend the whole evening at Anna’s fair.” I smiled sweetly. “Unless you’d be willing to compromise and look at a Kia?”
His only response was a frown that left me laughing through the rest of my meal. After dinner, we headed out to the fair with a stop by my place for a change of clothes. Jakob’s sweaters were stretchy enough that I could get away with them in public, but my hips and his would never share a pair of jeans. I didn’t mind too much. I believe in strong clothes-related boundaries in a relationship. Well, at least when it came to him borrowing mine, I had no qualms about raiding his closet’s stock of cashmere and alpaca. In fact, I considered it fair penance for him never even suggesting I bring over a few things.
Anna’s church made me think of the flame on the torch of Lady Liberty. A tour guide described it as undulating circular walls with spiraling hallways of different heights that formed a labyrinth around the circular worship space in the center. I took a quick look. It was grand but small. It could probably only hold a couple of hundred people.
The fair outside filled the parking lot with carnival rides, wooden booths for games, and between them, aisles all of the horribly bad for you fair food that tastes so good. We found Anna at an information booth restocking a ticket seller’s money drawer.
“Looks good.” I surveyed the general madness around me. The black fall night was broken by dozens of torches and at least two bonfires.
“Really?” She pulled us away from the booth. “I had to cancel the fire dance. No one’s got enough fire. At first it was just my family, but now it’s spread to everyone else. Our torches are actually burning alcohol for the first time. Half of the church elders are drinking themselves into a stupor over it.”
She nodded to a beer truck and the picnic tables beside it. A collection of dour looking people who could easily be called elders were silently pounding back beers.
I rubbed her arm, trying to reassure her. “None of us can tell, Anna. As far as we know, you’re pulling off a hell of an evening.”
“I hope so. I had this idea that maybe this could make up for…” She stopped herself and nibbled her lip, looking at Jakob. I was suddenly anxious for Anna to come out before I had to tell her I’d told him. “Well, for the other thing. It’d be a huge deal if we raise more than the other covens.”
Jakob switched into money mode with ease. “There are at least four hundred people here. What’s the average per person spending?”
“A family of four spends around fifty dollars, or so the fair managers promise me. If they’re right, there’s no way Phoebe’s runners can beat us.”
“Runners? I thought she was doing a road race?”
“Yeah, a 5K, a running race,” she corrected me absentmindedly, her eyes locked on a cone of fluffy pink cotton candy across the way. “I’ve got to make sure there are enough paper cones for the cotton candy.”
“Try to have a little fun, would you?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said, sounding like her mind was a mile away. She was five feet down the aisle before she turned back to me. “Hey, I was thinking about your firebug—”
I cut her off. “You mean the arsonist.”
She nodded. “Every fire witch in town is here, Mal. If she’s local, you’ll find her.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open, thanks!” I called with a cheerful wave.
“Oh, and careful of Isaura’s booth, she’ll try to get all your money when it should go to me.” I shooed her on her way, reluctant to take more of her time when she had so many details to look after.
We walked in loops, looking for anyone who seemed nervous or suspicious. After the first hour, we started stopping at rides that looked interesting along the way. I suckered Jakob into winning a small stuffed crow for me by showing off his skill with a crossbow. Despite the fun, part of my mind was looking for an arsonist. Jakob and I kissed on the top of the Ferris wheel with the lights far below us, fulfilling a fantasy I’d had since I was a girl. Ferris wheel kisses were as wonderful as I’d hoped they’d be, and even better with someone I adored so completely.
Anna warned me, but I was still oblivious. I turned a corner, and there was Isa looking stunning in a floaty off the shoulder blouse. The rickety wooden booth she sat in didn’t do justice to the amazing piece of machinery parked behind it.
“What is that?” I asked, not bother to hide the awe in my voice.
“An absolutely perfect Jeep Wrangler Rubicon, the special Lara Croft edition.”
“Who’s Lara Croft?” I asked, climbing into the driver’s seat to have a closer look.
“This is your problem, Mal, you have no culture.” She sighed dramatically. “None.”
“And she’s who?” I ignored her comments while I felt the leather of the steering wheel.
“She’s from Tomb Raider.”
“The movie?” I had some vague recollection of a busty heroine with guns strapped to her thighs.
“The video game.” She gave another sigh. As an air witch, her sighs were impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the car. “A collector donated it, it’s a limited edition.”
I grabbed the upper roll bar and swung out of the Jeep. I wanted it. Oh yes, I wanted it very much.
“How many tickets have you sold?”
“Not many, so your chances are pretty good.”
“I’ll take five.” I opened my wallet counting my money. I’d get more from her later when I had more cash.
“One hundred twenty-five bucks and they’re yours,” she said, happily ripping tickets.
“One hundred twenty-five dollars?” I could barely contain my outrage.
“Yup. Twenty-five dollars each.”
“Now I know why you haven’t sold many. Too rich for my blood, give me one.”
“Too bad,” she tried. “you looked cute in it.”
“Okay two, but you’re wiping me out. I’m now penniless. I can’t even buy a candy apple.”
“I’m sure your big strong man will buy one for you.”
I’d forgotten about Jakob in my zeal for the Jeep. He was watching us with a bemused expression. I happily suspected getting my candy apple was going to take a lot of flirting. We spent another hour wasting Jakob’s money on fair food and rides that were only fun because we were on them together. Anna found me again to say she’d seen a fire witch who seemed to be hanging around the edges. She hadn’t recognized the girl, and since she knew everyone there, it was a good lead. She gave me a description: tall, thin, long hair. I went back to searching, but when the fair closed, I wasn’t any closer to finding the girl.
I left my new stuffed animal on the pillow next to Jakob and grabbed the sports section to read the pre-game details. It was a Sunday in October, and I wasn’t going to miss a minute of football fun. My Saints weren’t playing, so I was knee deep in yardage statistics when I realized I wasn’t at my place. Jakob’s cabinets filled me with dread. I was going to have to watch the game without beer and chips. I cringed at the thought of three long hours of football with only fruit to snack on. I’d go along with Jakob’s healthy eating program every other day of the week, but football Sundays were sacred. I grabbed the phone and dialed Phoebe.
“What are you doing?”
“Wondering how I ended up sore in all sorts of weird places and remembering why my mother warned me about carnies.”
“Guess you had way more fun at the fair then I did.”
“After the fair actually, we tried to make it work with the Ferris wheel, but there were too many people.”
“Bummer,” I said, glad I’d gone on the Ferris wheel before Phoebe. “So it’s game day and Jakob has no munchies in the house. I’m going grocery shopping, want to meet for a late breakfast or something?”
“Why don’t I shop with you? The larder is looking a bit bare here,” she said, and I heard a cabinet close in the background. We settled on a time and place while I grabbed Jakob’s keys. At the last minute, I decided to leave him a note. He’d never woken up before noon, but after last night, I was in the mood to leave him a message with lots of Xs and Os across the bottom.
Sunday morning meant most of Baton Rouge was in church. That meant more parking spaces for me. I walked into the grocery store, glad I had put on a sweater against the chill. I found Phoebe surrounded by elevator music in the produce section.
“Good morning, chica.” She smiled. Her eyes held proof she’d had a long but fun night.
“Good morning, what are we getting?”
“The usual weekly stuff: apples, bananas, cantaloupe, and grapefruit.”
“Wow, you go through that every week?” I shook my head.
“And that’s not counting whatever’s pretty and in season, like those plums. What, are you a fruit bigot?”
“Not a bigot, I like it just fine when it’s cut, cleaned, and presented to me, but it’s not the first snack food I think of.” I didn’t add that left to my own devices, all of my food would come out of plastic packages. I liked fruit as much as the next girl, but you didn’t have to worry about pretzels going bad or being out of season. “You and Jakob would totally get along.”
“Speaking of which, how are you two doing?” Phoebe asked surveying the apple selection.
“Fairly good, the car thing came up again.” I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about the car thing. I couldn’t keep bringing up brands he hated forever.
