Charming Blue (12 page)

But she did. She lifted a handful of fairy dust into the air. It fell around them, illuminating not just the original image, but one a few feet away. This was the image of Bluebeard leaving. Still smiling. Looking a little seductive.

“Keep going,” Jodi said.

“You keep going,” Tank said, and at first Jodi thought it was another verbal put-down. Instead, it was a command. Tank clearly didn’t want to fly. Maybe she couldn’t. She had put out a great deal of effort this evening.

Jodi complied, taking a few more steps toward the door. Tank tossed more fairy dust and got two more images of Bluebeard walking away. Theoretically.

“Again,” Tank said.

Jodi walked around the images into the hallway. Tank tossed more fairy dust. This time it caught the edge of the previous image, but nothing else.

“Should I keep going?” Jodi asked.

“One more,” Tank said.

Jodi took a few more steps. Tank tossed one more handful of fairy dust, but it, too, failed to catch anything. It just fell to the floor like sparks from a Fourth of July sparkler.

“So he
did
vanish,” Jodi said, feeling a little ridiculous. The entire time she had stood on the patio, shivering and lying to herself that it was because of the cold, she had been hiding from no one.

“Appeared and disappeared,” Tank said thoughtfully. “You didn’t see him arrive, did you?”

“I was asleep.”

“And what did he say to wake you up?” Tank asked.

“He didn’t say anything. It was the amber light.”

“You didn’t tell me about the amber light,” Tank said.

“I know,” Jodi said. “I forgot until we were inside, and then you were talking about the image, and I couldn’t get a word in edgewise—”

“Don’t make this my fault,” Tank said.

“I’m not,” Jodi said. “So you think it’s a curse.”

“An elaborate one,” Tank said. “And you activated it.”

“
I
did?” Jodi said. “How could I have activated it?”

“Something happened between you and Blue, something that started the whole damn process up again.” Tank stood up, her little feet pressing hard on a nerve on the top of Jodi’s shoulder. “Boy, are we in trouble.”

“You will be if you don’t move your feet,” Jodi said.

“My feet? What’s wrong with my feet?”

“You have sharp little pointy feet, and they dig into the wrong places,” Jodi said. “So let’s move away from nerve endings, shall we?”

“Like that’s possible,” Tank said. “Where to, Your Highness?”

Jodi extended her hand palm side up. “Stand here.”

“I’m sure there’s nerve endings on that big fat palm of yours.” It felt like Tank was digging her feet in harder.

“But they’re not on the surface, because, as you pointed out, my palm is fat.”

“Touché,” Tank said as she flew down to Jodi’s palm. She landed hard, almost like she was trying to find the nerve endings. “Sharp little pointy feet. That’s the first time I’ve heard that accusation.”

“How often do you stand on people?” Jodi asked.

“Not often enough it seems,” Tank said. She sounded distracted. Indeed, she had her hands on her hips with her wings folded against her back. She was staring at all of those fairy dust images. Echoes of Bluebeard in different poses, like fading statues in a holographic museum.

“I’m still confused,” Jodi said. “The wards should have protected me against Bluebeard.”

“They did,” Tank said, still staring at the images.

“They did not,” Jodi said. “His curse got in here.”

“No,” Tank said. “The curse has nothing to do with him.”

“Really?” Jodi said. “Because there he is in my bedroom, smiling at me.”

“He’s not here, and no part of him is here,” Tank said.

“His curse is here.”

“That’s right,” Tank said. “
The
curse is here. It’s not Blue’s spell, it’s not a spell Blue created. Blue had nothing to do with the curse. Someone else created the curse and placed it
on
Blue.”

“I’m not sure I entirely understand the difference,” Jodi said.

“That’s because you’re one of the good guys,” Tank said. “You’ve probably never cursed someone in your entire life.”

She was heavier than Jodi expected, and awkward as well. Jodi’s arm was feeling the strain of keeping her hand palm-side up so that Tank could continue to stand on it.

“I have cursed a million people,” Jodi said, thinking that she was annoyed enough at Tank to curse at her right now. “But not with magic, no. Of course not. That way lies madness.”

“Exactly,” Tank said. “And Blue might be a drunk, but he’s not insane.”

Jodi almost disagreed automatically, and then she thought about it. That was true. Bluebeard had struck her as strange but rational. And if he had been placing curses on people, then he would be more than slightly crazy.

Of course, no one put a curse on himself.

“My presence activated the curse,” Jodi said thoughtfully. What had Bluebeard said to her that morning?

Since
the
last
death, I haven’t looked at a woman. I haven’t talked to a woman, except in passing, and I never ever touch one. I try to avoid people as much as possible. I’m afraid if I get to know a woman’s face, the image will get in my brain, and then… then it’ll start all over again.

He had finished with a whisper as if it had all been too much to contemplate.

He had looked at her,
seen
her, talked to her, and brushed against her. And then his image—his younger image, the image from the Kingdom, the image fifteen women had seen before their deaths—had shown up in her bedroom.

“Holy crap,” Jodi said softly, letting her arm down.

Tank slid, then threw herself flat against Jodi’s arm, grabbing onto her wrist. Tank swore in the old language. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

“Sorry,” Jodi said and eased her to the top of the dresser near the door.

“Holy crap what?” Tank asked as if she hadn’t panicked, as if she hadn’t swore. She brushed herself off. Her gauzy black dress was covered in fairy dust.

“This poor man thinks he’s been killing women,” Jodi said, more to herself than Tank. “And he hasn’t harmed a soul.”

“Finally! Someone who understands!” Tank said and clapped her little hands together, releasing more fairy dust sparkles.

Jodi glared at Tank. “You knew this all along, and you let him suffer?”

“No, I didn’t know it,” Tank said. “I suspected it, though. It was the only thing that made sense. I’ve been around evil. He’s not evil. He never has been.”

Jodi had had that same sense. She had discounted it because of the charm. How many other people had done so?

“He’s been punishing himself for no reason,” Jodi said, still thinking out loud.

“Oh, there’s a reason,” Tank said. “Those women died.”

Then she floated up just enough to get in Jodi’s face. Again. This time Jodi brushed her away.

“That’s a bad habit,” Jodi snapped.

“It gets your attention,” Tank said.

“You already had my attention,” Jodi said.

“Did not,” Tank said. “You were thinking out loud.”

Jodi did not like how accurate Tank’s assessment was. “Fine. What do you want?”

“
Those
women
died
,” Tank said, as if that was enough to get through to Jodi.

“Yes, I know,” Jodi said. “And how does that affect me…?”

Her breath caught. It affected her because of the curse. The curse had activated again. The women died because Bluebeard had noticed them. Then his curse turned on them, somehow killing them. Which was why he couldn’t remember killing them himself.

“Oh, great,” Jodi said. “Now I’m a target.”

“Yep,” Tank said. “There’s only one thing we can do.”

“And what’s that?” Jodi asked.

“Figure out how to lift the curse.”

Chapter 14

Lifting a curse wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Tank couldn’t just wave her tiny arms, say “Hocus Pocus!” and lift the curse. Nor could Jodi throw some comfort magic against it.

Jodi and Tank had to figure out the nature of the curse, then they had to find the cursecaster. If the cursecaster was still alive, then he could lift the curse—or be forced to. (Jodi did not have offensive magic, so she wasn’t sure how you’d force anyone to do anything. She’d never forced someone to cast a spell in her life.)

But if the cursecaster was dead—which this one might have been—then they had a whole other issue. Jodi wasn’t sure what they would do then.

Jodi thought of all of that as she left Tank on the dresser. Jodi walked to the side of her bed, keeping an eye on the images of Bluebeard. The images were slowly fading, like a Polaroid development in reverse. They were getting muddier, and darker, and slowly dropping away.

She turned on one of the lamps on the bedside table. A soft glow illuminated the room. She usually liked that softness. It eased her into relaxation; it eased her into sleep.

But she didn’t feel like relaxing or like sleep.

Still, she sat on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t see this curse in his aura. It was the proper blue for charm magic, and it had no other magic woven into it.”

Tank flew from the bureau top to the bedside table. The light from the lamp fell across her as if it was her own private spotlight. She looked exhausted.

Jodi had never seen Tank look exhausted before.

She sat on the edge of the table, then rubbed her tiny hand over her face. After a moment, she said, “When did you check the aura?”

Jodi frowned. She didn’t know why that was important. “The moment I met him. I was worried, Tank. You sent me to a guy I thought was a killer—”

“Think about it,” Tank said. “You hadn’t reactivated the curse yet.”

Jodi’s breath caught. She thought the encounter through, ran the memory through her brain. She had checked him the moment she walked through the door—after she could tear her gaze away from his stunning handsomeness.

And she hadn’t glanced at his aura after he had looked at her. It took special vision, and she hadn’t used it again.

“So the curse activates,” she said, “and he has no idea?”

Tank shrugged. “Every curse is different.”

“But he didn’t kill those women,” Jodi said. “The curse did.”

“Something did,” Tank said.

“And gave him a memory of it.”

“But not a good one,” Tank said. “Just enough to convince him.”

Jodi shuddered. This was one nasty curse. “Isn’t this complicated for a curse? I thought curses were simple.”

Tank shrugged. “They can be extremely powerful, depending on who casts them. Experienced cursecasters can be very elaborate.”

“Still,” Jodi said.

Tank didn’t say any more. She leaned against the lamp, her wings wrapping around its base, almost as if she was using it to hold herself up.

“It’s gotta be a curse,” Tank said. “What else would last that long without the person who cast it present?”

Jodi didn’t know. There was so much about evil that she had never ever contemplated. She had no need to. Up until now, it really hadn’t been a part of her world.

“I assume it would take time for the curse to play out against me,” Jodi said.

“I don’t know the timetable,” Tank said. “We’re going to have to ask Blue.”

Like they were asking him about the Fairy Tale Stalker. Jodi’s breath caught.

“My God,” she said. “It’s happening again.”

“Duh,” Tank said.

“No, think, Tank. If this curse takes time to play out against the victims, if it happens event by event—first a visitation, then another, and finally the murder, all those women are still in danger. This new guy, this new Bluebeard, he saw them, he remembers them, and now they’re at risk from him. They’ve had the first vision. Some have even had the second. And—”

“This thing will escalate. Crap,” Tank said. “How many times has this creepy cursecaster done this?”

“And what does he get out of it?” Jodi said. “It would take a lot of magic to establish a curse like this one for so very long.”

“It’s almost enough to send me to the Fates,” Tank said.

Jodi looked up. The Fates were three women who governed the rules of magic. They were the final arbiters for the Powers That Be, who were in charge of all magic. But the Kingdoms rarely dealt with the Fates. Many of the Kingdom magical didn’t have enough power to even get themselves to the Fates unless there was an emergency, and the Kingdom folk had learned long ago that getting the Fates to solve a dispute might take centuries, at which point the dispute had faded into unimportance.