Modern Magic Series: Prequel & Books 1-3 Page 4
“Stop fighting it. I’ll drive around for a while and wake you up when we get there. You’ll be safe.” His voice was a deep rumble from a distance, and she thought she felt his fingers run through her hair before she dropped off into darkness.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty…”
Brandon was touching her again. One hand was cupping her cheek, and his thumb was caressing her skin. Charlotte opened her eyes to see him looking up at her. She’d slumped sideways toward the door, but Brandon was there instead.
She blinked and sat up. Brandon’s hand slid away, but he stayed crouched next to her outside the car. They were parked in front of her building, and the sun was on its way down. Her purse was silent.
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven. Why?”
“I have a raid tonight.”
Both his brows went up. “You’re still playing that game?”
She couldn’t tell if he was judging her or not. “I like it. It lets me be social without having to talk or interact.”
He nodded slowly, and she decided it was probably curiosity rather than mockery. “That makes a lot of sense, but I think you might be skipping it tonight.” He stood and extended his hand to help her out of the car.
Charlotte grabbed her purse and put her hand in his. Another first for her. He hauled her up, but didn’t move back. She stood toe to toe with him, a breath away from his mouth. She met his eyes, and delicious tingles spread out from her center.
Rav ruined the moment by waking up cranky. Her purse started jumping violently, and Charlotte was afraid she’d pop out and run into the open wild. Brandon must have had a similar thought because he shook his head and turned to the apartment building.
“C’mon, let’s get her inside before she chews a hole through that too.”
He kept hold of her hand as he led her up the steps, but had to release her so she could unlock the door. Charlotte thought she could get used to the touching. It felt amazing to have physical contact with someone again and unreal that the someone was Brandon.
The apartment was the same as they’d left it. She set her purse on the couch and grabbed the broom, intending to finally clean the mess off the living room floor, but Rav started chattering loudly and jumping around in the purse. Rolling her eyes, Charlotte unzipped the main compartment. Rav popped out and tossed a dime at her, gesturing wildly again.
“Hey, don’t throw crap at me. I saved your life you little ingrate.” She fought the urge to whack her with the broom. Who knew, maybe death by broom was one of the old ways for killing imps.
Rav climbed up to the back of the couch and spoke quickly while making steps then a circle with her hands.
Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “You want a slinky?”
Rav bared her fangs and hissed. Brandon laughed as he walked past her toward the kitchen.
Charlotte shrugged. “Guess not.” They needed to work out some way to communicate, but right at the moment, she was more concerned with what the old ladies had planned. If that spell book was theirs, then they had a lot of creepy stuff going on in their lives. And why had they sold it to her? The diagram for extracting a live chicken heart came to mind. Charlotte let her thoughts wander while she swept the blackened remains of the book, salt, bits of incense, and her cow glass into a pile.
Rav was using the sooty end of a stick of incense to draw symbols on the tan couch. Interlocking circles and triangles with strange words mixed in, most likely not Latin calligraphy. Charlotte sighed. It was sort of fun having a companion, but she couldn’t keep her. She didn’t need any more trouble in her life. Rav glanced up at her, then went back to her drawing. She seemed content to redecorate the couch, why spoil her fun.
A soft coo came from the other side of the room, and Charlotte’s brow furrowed as she looked up. Bookshelf, squishy chair, side table, kitchen table, cat carrier. For a second, she was very confused, then she remembered that the pigeon was still inside.
She yelled into the kitchen where Brandon was opening and closing cabinets. “How often are pigeons supposed to eat? A Danish should be good for at least a day, right?”
He laughed again. “Pigeons are like the cockroaches of the bird world. I think it’ll be fine. We need to eat though.”
Her stomach growled as if on cue. “Okay. There’s some mac and cheese in the pantry, but what are we going to do about Rav?”
“Crackers again?”
“I meant after dinner. I feel like I may have gotten mixed up in something bigger than messing up a spell.”
Brandon peeked his head around the corner. “I’m not sure you messed up the spell. Those ladies didn’t sound surprised when they saw Rav. They sounded greedy.” He disappeared again, and she heard a pot clanking onto the stove.
She leaned on the broom and stared at the empty doorway. “You think they wanted me to summon Rav?”
“I think it’s a likely possibility. We need to find someone who knows more about imps than a five-minute Google search.”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll just pull them out of my utility closet.”
It got quiet in the kitchen, and she assumed he didn’t have a better suggestion.
Charlotte leaned the broom up against the wall near the bookshelf and peeked inside the carrier. The pigeon hadn’t moved. It slowly opened and closed its eyes. Yep. Definitely demonic. And there was no way she was reaching inside there to set it free. She’d carry the whole ensemble outside and leave the door open. The pigeon found its way in, it could find its way out.
She expected it to squawk while she carried the cage to the door, but it didn’t so much as open its beak. Thank god for small miracles. She unbolted both locks and grumbled about the hazards of wild pigeons while she swung open the door.
The two old ladies waited on the other side.
Charlotte shrieked and threw the cat carrier at the tall one while trying to get the door closed against the short one. The pigeon started flapping around again as the carrier went airborne, and the tall one stumbled back a couple of steps with the force of it. The door slammed, the lock clicked, and Charlotte leaned back against it. Brandon came running in from the kitchen with a frying pan in his hand.
“What’s going on?”
“They followed us.”
He lowered the frying pan and shook his head. “Not possible. I drove around for hours. Did you pay with a credit card when you bought the book?”
“No, and it wouldn’t matter. You can’t get an address from a credit card.” Charlotte smacked her forehead. “But I did fill out a new customer form. They said it was mandatory. I’m sorry.”
Brandon waved it away. “It’s not like you could have guessed this was going to happen. I’m calling the cops.” He pulled his cell phone out of his shorts, then frowned at it. “No service. Not even emergency. What about yours?”
Charlotte didn’t want to move away from the door. “Mine’s in my purse.” He dug through until he found it and shook his head.
“Same. Do I even want to know if this is usual?”
“It’s not.”
He nodded. “Are they still there?”
“Yeah.”
She could hear low muttering coming from outside and thought for a few seconds about the chances of the old ladies retrieving a chainsaw to hack their way through the door.
Unlikely.
“What do we do?” she asked.
He eyed Rav. “Can we use magic imp powers to get rid of them?”
She sat quietly on the back of the couch looking out the window, her tail swiping back and forth. It unnerved Charlotte that she didn’t even seem phased by the sudden attack, but she didn’t seem to be powering up to help either.
“I don’t think so. Even if I knew how to make that happen, it seems risky.”
The muttering stopped, and she held up a hand to Brandon. She listened in vain for the sound of shoes on the stairs. The pigeon cooed somewhere on the other side of the door, but all else was silent. Charlotte met Brandon’
s eyes and shook her head. He crooked his fingers and gestured at the bedroom. She made sure the door was locked one more time then followed him into the other room.
He closed the door behind them and tossed the frying pan on the bed. “I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”
She raised a brow. “Why not tell me before you decide how I’ll respond?”
“I’ll sneak out the window and draw them away outside. You take Rav and get to my car. Go to my parents’ place, and I’ll meet you there.”
“You’re right. I hate that plan. I’m not sending you out into danger to protect me.”
“What danger? It’s a couple of old ladies that I could outrun in my sleep.”
“Old ladies who somehow made our cell phones not work at all. I think the spell book was theirs, and they’re more powerful than you’re giving them credit for.”
“Then why didn’t they summon the imp themselves?”
She propped her hands on her hips. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I refuse to play damsel in distress to a stupid hero.”
He jerked back like she’d smacked him, and she felt it like a cold touch. His face closed down, and he looked over at the bedroom window and the convenient leafy tree right outside it. “You do what you want, but I’m going to climb down that tree and make enough noise that they follow me. I hope you take Rav and meet me at my parents’ place, but if not, I understand.”
Charlotte reached for him, but he stepped back. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Brandon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. “I know, but you hit a sore spot.”
She gathered her courage and moved past her fear and the icy veneer he was projecting. Her hands framed his face and tilted his head to meet her eyes. “You are not stupid, and any woman should be proud to call you hers.”
He didn’t move for a moment, and her cheeks flushed. She was on the verge of death by embarrassment when the ice melted and he leaned his forehead against hers. “There’s only one woman I want.”
Her heart stuttered, but she had to be sure. “You mean me, right?”
A smile broke across his face, and he pulled her in for a tight hug. “Yes, I mean you.”
Charlotte could have stayed in his arms all afternoon, trespassers be damned, but the hug was sadly short. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and pulled his keys from his pocket. “Remember. Take Rav. Get to my car. Go straight to my parents’ place.”
Charlotte frowned and nodded, shoving the keys in her own pocket. She was even less okay with the plan now. He opened the window and was gone before she could argue any more. She sidled up to the glass and peeked out, but she couldn’t see him past the thick branches.
Time for her part of the plan. She started to go back to the living room, but running with the flimsy strap on her purse gave her second thoughts. Rav wasn’t heavy, but she was solid, and if running was involved, she needed something sturdier and less flappy. Charlotte peeked under the bed and found a neat pile of crackers. Apparently Rav was saving for an emergency, but there wasn’t anything she could use under there. At the top of her closet, she found a fraying backpack that was serviceable.
Charlotte detoured into the kitchen to grab a couple of granola bars and a bottle of water, then returned to the living room.
She hadn’t heard anything from the stairwell, but that didn’t necessarily mean much. Rav was still sitting on the back of the couch, now watching the backpack with interest. There was a little bit of room left at the top; it would have to work. Charlotte bit her lip and held the bag open toward Rav. The imp shot her a look that could only be described at thinly veiled incredulity, then climbed in with a sigh.
Several minutes had passed since Brandon had disappeared down the tree, but she hadn’t heard any kind of distraction. There was a solid chance she’d missed it in her scavenging. She held the backpack by one strap and silently asked Rav to stay calm for the time being.
Charlotte looked through the peep hole, but all she saw was the cat carrier sideways against the far side of the hall. There was no noise outside. Her stomach roiled with nerves as she fretted whether to go or wait more and risk missing her chance. The shadows were getting longer in the room, and she didn’t relish the idea of driving at night. On the other hand, she really didn’t want it to come down to a foot race to the car. The embarrassment of losing would be the least of her worries. The pigeon cooed again, and Charlotte made her decision.
She gathered her courage, bolstered by the exchange with Brandon, and eased the locks off. At first glance, the landing was clear. Charlotte opened the door enough for her to step through, and the old ladies appeared from nowhere right in front of her.
She gasped and tried to get the door closed again, but the short one was having none of that. After a small skirmish, she pushed Charlotte back into the living room and slammed the door open with her purse. The backpack went flying.
The tall one appeared behind her. Charlotte scrambled up and looked around quickly. Rav was nowhere to be seen so she grabbed the broom. It wasn’t her first choice for defense, but there was nothing else within reach. The tall one snickered, and the short one smiled again.
“We mean you no harm, young lady. We simply want the imp.” Her hands were spread open as if displaying that she had no weapon. Charlotte wasn’t fooled.
“I don’t have an imp.”
“Do you know what they used to do to liars in the old days?” The tall one’s nostrils flared, and she seemed to enjoy the memory. “They cut out their tongues.”
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have an imp. Don’t you have a nursing home to be terrorizing?”
“We saw it in your purse when you so rudely ran out of the store, and we can see the ceremonial markings on your sofa.” The short one was inching closer. Charlotte took a couple of big steps to the side positioning the couch between herself and the crazy ladies.
“I have no idea what ceremonial markings you’re talking about. My kid sister did this. If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to call the cops.”
The short one laughed as she pulled a black-handled dagger from her ancient purse. Charlotte didn’t find it very funny. “I don’t think you’ll have much luck with your phone.”
“So, it was you.”
“A simple spell. Though it would have been much simpler if we’d been able to get in last night.”
Charlotte felt stupid. Rav hadn’t locked them in; she’d locked these two out.
The short one pointed the tip of the dagger in Charlotte’s direction. “We tire of these games. Tell us where the imp is or we’ll pull it from your tongue.”
Charlotte wanted them far away from her tongue, but she needed to stall them until Brandon figured out his plan had failed or until Rav decided to help. “Why do you want her?”
“For our youth, of course.” She must have read the confusion on Charlotte’s face because she muttered about the ignorance of young people and explained. “We will bond the imp to us and then sacrifice her in the old ways to restore us to our former selves.”
The phrase the old ways triggered a memory in Charlotte’s mind. “Did you write the Wikipedia article?”
The tall one beamed and crept closer, boxing Charlotte in behind the couch. “That was me. Did you like it? Quite informative, eh?”
“Why me?”
“We needed a young imp. Like begets like, so we needed a young magic user.”
There was a lot in that sentence that she needed to deal with, but she’d realized something else. “Imps bond with people.”
“Yes, yes. We said that.”
Charlotte looked around but still didn’t see Rav anywhere. “Bond with me,” she yelled.
She hoped Rav understood her after all. An electric tingle raced up her arms like it had the night before when her hair changed color.
The short one dropped her smile and raised the knife. �
�Time is up.”
Charlotte’s temper snapped. “You’re right. I’ve had enough with demonic pigeons, pet imps, and psychotic old ladies. You’re not getting Rav, even with that very illegal knife. She’s mine. Now get the hell out of my apartment or I’ll throw you out.” She straightened her shoulders and took a step closer, bumping into the couch.
Charlotte held the broom up like a baseball bat and noticed her arms were glowing a lovely shade of purple. She gasped and the broom thudded to the ground. The women both retreated until they were up against the wall, their eyes wide.
She heard Brandon shouting her name from somewhere outside, but is was way less important than the light coming off of her. Charlotte took a step back from the couch as Rav climbed up to the top of it again. She grinned and said something quick then clapped her hands once. As the little smack resounded, the glow around Charlotte popped. Small purple motes filled the air and floated down on the rays of the setting sun shining through the windows.
Brandon showed up at the door in time for the show. “Charlotte, are you okay?”
He rushed in, but she held up a hand to keep him back. “I feel fine. I don’t know what’s happening, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Rav walked over and hugged her wrist. “You mine now. Evil witches go away.”
Charlotte stared open-mouthed at Rav. “You can speak English?”
“No. You talk imp.” Rav hugged her wrist again, hopped down off the couch, and scampered into the kitchen.
She shared a confused look with Brandon. “Did you understand her?”
“No, but you were making some interesting imp noises there.”
The old women were watching them, but the short one had put her knife away. The tall one’s shoulders slumped. “They’re bonded. It’s too late now.” She turned and walked out the door.
The short one’s eyes glittered. “You’re lucky. Very few imps willingly share their magic. Make good use of it while you can.” Charlotte came around the couch and followed her to the door at a safe distance. That knife was gone, but it wasn’t forgotten.