Hoodoo Woman (Roxie Mathis Book 3) (3 page)

The front door of the trailer was ajar. I steeled myself and opened my senses. For years I’d relied mostly on my auric vision, using my glasses to shield me from a sensory overload of color and emotion. In recent months I’d developed a new technique, one I should have taught myself ages ago: a focus of will followed by opening my senses, with an emphasis on viewing the auras and spirits. That led to working on other senses, most important of all learning the taste of magic in the aether.

The tang of whiskey and smoke lingered. Stack had been here but since left. A cold, dark diamond of power shone through my own tangled earthy imprint. Blake. His starfield aura had always fascinated me. Experiencing his energy signature in a different way made me look at him in a new light, but I still couldn’t verbalize how I felt about it.

He was seated on the second-hand couch, staring at an empty bottle of bourbon.

I said, “I don’t remember giving you a key.” I tried to keep my tone light but I couldn’t hold back the words. Having my home and privacy and the sanctity of my protective wards violated didn’t sit well with me.

Blake took his time answering, just staring at the damn bottle. I shut the door a little harder than necessary and hung my coat on the peg by the door. He kept staring at the bottle. Okay, he didn’t want to talk, fine by me. I walked to the tiny kitchen and began preparing a cup of tea. My back was to him when he finally spoke.

“When were you going to tell me?”

I wouldn’t insult us both by pretending I didn’t understand. “Once I figured out more about it.”

“Didn’t you think I could help you? All things considered.”

I didn’t know what he meant. “Why would I need any help?” I was careful not to say
your
.

Blake came into the kitchen, gripping the bottle. “To banish him.”

I froze. “What do you think Stack is?”

“Some sort of demon or spirit. I don’t know exactly but whatever it is, you have to get rid of it.”

The kettle began to boil. I flipped off the stove eye and moved the kettle to a cold one, forgoing the tea. I didn’t want to fight with Blake so I tried to calm down and keep my anger in check. “Look, I don’t know what happened here. You met Stack, you don’t like him. Okay.”

Blake interrupted. “How did you summon him? Why did you do it? That’s the thing I don’t get. You know what this kind of thing can lead to. God knows you lectured me about it enough when we first met. What the hell made you do something so stupid?”

To give myself something to do with my hands and time to count to ten, I cleaned my glasses on my shirttail. “You need to dial it back a notch.”

“Dial it back a notch?” He slammed the bottle onto the counter. “You summon some kind of evil spirit and you’re telling me to dial it back a notch?”

I scrunched my face. “Oh come on. Stack isn’t evil. Annoying maybe, which hardly counts as evil or you’d have it tattooed on your forehead.”

He picked up the bottle and flung it against the wall behind me, missing me on purpose, the crash of breaking glass echoing through my nerves. I could still feel it as it passed, as well as his anger. It rolled off of him with far more intensity than any magic I’d felt from him in months.

“What the hell is your problem?” I wanted to throw him out of my home, show him he couldn’t act like that with me. Shock kept me from doing it. This was a line he’d never crossed with me.

“Your hypocrisy, for one. Your stupidity, for another. What the hell were you thinking and how many people are going to have to get hurt before you banish the thing?”

For a moment all I saw was the boiling red of my own rage at everything he was accusing me of. In the middle of it was a pinpoint of clarity and I suddenly knew he wasn’t talking about me. This was about his own guilt.

When I first met Blake I’d been hired by young friends of his he’d used to help him summon a demon. By the end of it three young men were dead, as was the girl who’d volunteered to be possessed by the demon. Only Blake and one other survived. Still struggling to put a lid on my own anger, I went back to making tea so I could clear my head and figure out how to talk to him.

Blake seemed to realize a time out was needed as well. He cleaned up the broken bottle and took a seat at the rickety table. I brought two cups and sat opposite him.

I said, “Do you want to know what happened?”

“Yes! Please tell me because you doing this makes no sense.” He caught himself before getting too worked up again. “Yes, please.”

I took a deep breath, running nervous hands through my hair. “It was the flood. I almost drowned and all I had to save myself was magic. I wasn’t deliberately trying to conjure anything. It just happened. I didn’t even realize it until months later.”

His mouth fell open, then closed again deliberately. “What exactly is it? Do you know?”

“He’s not a ghost or a demon. Disincarnate entity is the best I’ve got. I think he’s made from the power of the flood, impressions from this piece of land.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did some research while trying to figure out more about him. There used to be a juke joint on this parcel of land. I think that accounts for the smell of smoke and booze. Sometimes I hear music when he’s around, too. Old blues.”

“You think the land is haunted and it somehow manifested in him?”

“Not haunted in the traditional sense. Not by any specific person. But I think impressions were left. Energy markers. Whatever you want to call it.”

“What do you think it would take to banish it?”

I sipped my tea, trying to formulate words that wouldn’t lead to more screaming. “Stack doesn’t need to be banished. He’s not evil. He’s chaotic, he gets that from the flood. He’s uniquely attuned to natural magic, especially storms. He can be a pain to keep in line but he’s not malicious or destructive.”

“
Stack
threatened to kill me.”

“I’m sure you misunderstood.” Actually, I wasn’t so sure.

“He said to me,
if you step out of line I’ll be the one to put nine bullets in your motherfucking chest
. I don’t think I misunderstood.”

Well. Ha. No, Blake didn’t misunderstand. Stack’s message was loud and clear. Now for another delicate needle to thread. This conversation was a minefield and I was emotionally exhausted, but at least we weren’t yelling and throwing things anymore. I forced a laugh. “Remember the time I thought you were seeing someone else and worked a love spell on you? Only you did some defensive magic and sent it rebounding.”

Comprehension sank into Blake, leaving his expression slack. “He’s fixated on you because he caught the rebounded spell.”

Trying to sound nonchalant, I said, “It’s just a theory but yeah, that’s what I think.”

“All the more reason to banish him. Let me help you, Roxie.”

I shook my head.

He said, “You helped me. You probably saved my life. Let me help you with this now.”

“He can’t be banished. And even if he could, I wouldn’t do it. There’s no reason to.”

Blake grew agitated again. “What do you mean,
can’t
?”

“Part of what created him was me. My magic, my essence. I can’t just destroy a part of myself.”

He looked incredulous. “If you had cancer, would you leave it?”

“Stack is not cancer. Or evil or anything else you seem to think he is.”

“You’re in denial. He’ll hurt you or someone else, mark my words.”

“I’m not you and Stack isn’t Delia. Stop projecting your guilt onto me.”

His face cracked into facets of pain and anger. So much for keeping my temper in check. I wished I could have slowed my mouth down and found a better way to say it, but I had meant it. Blake was equating my situation with what he went through and after months of working with Stack there was no evidence he was evil.

When Blake spoke again his voice was shattered. I’d never heard him like that. “I went to see Seth a while back.”

Seth was the only other survivor of Blake’s walk on the demon-summoning side. “How is he?”

“In a mental institution. Where he’s expected to stay the rest of his life. He’s tried to kill himself several times. Rants about demons and black magic. I thought he just couldn’t keep a lid on what he’d seen, the things he’d been through, but it’s more.” He rubbed his face, pushing strands of heavy black hair from his forehead. There was some gray there now.

“What else?” I wanted to know but I didn’t at the same time.

“I think it pushed him over the edge, into true insanity. He hears voices. Hallucinates. He’s had a complete psychotic break.”

I reached for him. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

He pulled away. “I did that to him. I killed Gabe and Levi and Titus. My Brimstone Club.” An ugly laugh erupted from him, making me wince. “They were my friends. They looked up to me. And I used them and got three of them killed and one of them is in an asylum. And Delia. Oh god, Delia.”

Blake rarely spoke of his old Brimstone Club members and the events that led to us meeting. He never spoke of Delia, the terminally ill girl who chose to be possessed by a demon in an effort to hold onto life. I was too much of a coward to ever ask how deep his feelings for her ran. He leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. I wanted to offer him comfort but I was afraid he’d draw away again.

After a moment he raised his head. His eyes swam with tears. “I see their faces every day. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I’ll have this stain on my soul. I don’t want that for you, Roxie.”

“I understand. I do. But you have to trust me. Stack is not what you think.”

“Even if he’s not, this is still wrong. You need to banish him. He shouldn’t exist.”

I sighed. This was going nowhere. “Like I said, I don’t think I can. I think if I tried it might hurt me. Hurt the part of me where the magic comes from.”

“You can live without the magic.”

That’s when I knew just how deeply Blake had been affected by his guilt. Not that he’d given up magic. No, he’d just turned his back on Chaos and returned to an orderly ceremonial practice. It made the edges of his personality blunt, his energy cold and dark, darker even than when we’d first met and I’d thought of him as Blake the Dangerous Sorcerer. He was still a danger but maybe it was more to himself than anyone else. I didn’t think he would hurt himself but he was letting the guilt change him. Letting it eat him alive until he was barely recognizable.

“If you feel so bad about what happened, why don’t you give up magic?” I guess I just couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to hurt him but maybe he needed the prodding of uncomfortable questions.

No answer was forthcoming. He stood, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “Graham asked me to come to North Carolina to run a seminar.”

I sat back, stunned. “For how long?”

“A month.”

A heavy silence descended. “Did you give him an answer?”

“Not yet but I think I need to go. I think we need time to figure some things out.”

Intellectually I knew this was as much about his own issues as mine with Stack, maybe more, but it still stung. Bad. “If it’s what you want then you should go.”

He pushed away from the counter and retrieved his coat from the couch. I couldn’t believe he intended to leave now, like this, but seeing him pull his car keys from his pocket made it clear he was doing exactly that. I met him at the door, too shocked to speak.

Barely meeting my gaze, he brushed his lips across mine. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Then he was gone.

“Did we break up?” I lay on the floor, arms thrown to the side, and stared up at the ceiling fan.

Liquid sloshed as Daniel refilled his drink. “I don’t know. Don’t think so but he don’t make no sense to me.” He rose from the couch to make his way to the kitchen. When I called and told him I needed him and why, he arrived shortly after sunset with margarita makings, pizza for me, and blood for him. I had a special place in the fridge for him to keep blood bags, semi-quarantined from anything I would eat or drink. I didn’t mind Daniel being a vampire but the blood still squicked me out sometimes.

He returned with a fresh shot of blood in his tequila. “I mean, I get where he’s coming from on this Stack business. There was no need for you to keep him a secret. If your instincts tell you he’s kosher, that’s all I need.”

I raised my head and gave him a look. He’d given me grief about Blake from day one. He pursed his lips as he dropped back onto the couch. “I may not like it but I’m not going to get stupid about it.” He took a drink. The blood darkened the amber liquid to tiger’s eye. “Did he give you an ultimatum?”

“No.” I rolled to my side and rested my head on my arm. “Didn’t sound too hopeful, though.”

“He ever talk about all that other stuff much? I think that’s his main problem.”

“Hardly ever. I could tell he was different but I guess I just thought, I don’t know. Maybe he was maturing or something. He’s taking this teaching stuff pretty seriously.”

“Like he’s got a newfound responsibility? Shelby says he’s pretty strict. He’s a good teacher but working with him is a lot more structured than she thought it would be.”

I sat up. “I am a shitty girlfriend. He’s been going through all this guilt and hell, probably PTSD, and I had no idea.”

“In all fairness, he never said anything.”

“I’m still a shitty girlfriend.”

“Well, yeah. What are you gonna do about it?”

I reached for my margarita, shaking the melting ice. “Right now, nothing. He’s right, we both need some time to figure things out.”

“You’re not banishing Stack.” It wasn’t a question and there was no reproach in his voice.

“Nope.” I held up my glass and looked pitiful. “Make me another?”

Leaving his own drink on the end table, Daniel made me a fresh margarita. “Why do you think he kept it from you? Whatever problems he’s having with his past?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was doing the same thing I was, trying to figure stuff out before talking about it.”

“That doesn’t always work. Sometimes you need to talk shit out.”

“I guess we should have come to Doctor Daniel for relationship counseling.” I took the drink offered and sipped. “Thank you.”

He waved at the stereo as he returned to his seat. “What the hell is this? Why the hell is this? It’s not your usual.” He sounded like an old codger about to tell me to get off his lawn.

“Hip hop keeps Stack away. He doesn’t like it so when I don’t want to be bothered with him I play some hip hop.”

“Where does he go when he’s not hanging around you?”

“I asked him once. Storm hunting mostly, but he likes to people watch, too. Sometimes he’s just sort of dormant.”

“That is seriously weird.”

Finally I said what I’d been thinking for hours. “Blake’s going to break up with me if I don’t banish Stack.”

Daniel leaned forward. “Honey, you don’t know that.”

“He equates Stack with Delia. I couldn’t make him understand they’re not the same at all.”

“He’s not stupid. Stubborn maybe. Going through some shit of his own right now, but not stupid. He’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

He moved from the couch to the floor, gesturing for me to sit beside him. I did. He said, “Then he doesn’t. I know you love him but that doesn’t mean he gets to define you. If your time together is over, you’ll mourn it and honor it and move on.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I told him once I didn’t believe in destiny and all that kind of stuff. That we make our own choices. I still believe that.”

“Speaking as a vampire who chose not to be a monster, I’d have to agree with you there.”

“But what do you think that means for love? People talk about how they were meant for each other, meant to be, born for each other. If I believe in making my own choice, does that mean there’s no one meant for me? It’s all just random chance and it doesn’t matter who I’m with or if I’m alone?” Oh god, that had to be the tequila talking.

“I think we’re meant to make ourselves happy. If it means staying with one person, fine. If it means different people are right for you, for lack of a better term, at one point in your life and then not, well, that’s fine too. Doesn’t mean you didn’t love him enough or he didn’t love you enough. It just means it’s over.”

I straightened so I could adjust my glasses and kill half my drink. What Daniel said made a lot of sense. It didn’t fit with old-fashioned ideas of romance and love, but it felt real to me. Resignation settled into my bones and my heart. We had a lot of work to do when Blake got back from Asheville. I was willing to do my best if he was, and we’d take it from there. That’s all we could do, either give it our best or decide it wasn’t worth the effort and say goodbye. I thought we were worth the effort. I had no idea if Blake did.