Love Charms (112 page)

“Give me a minute.” I cracked the door
open again and peeked into the apartment. Silence. I inched the door open and
entered the apartment for a second time. Sensing my presence, books began to
levitate and then zoom toward me, aiming straight for my head. I took a deep
breath and, acting on instinct, dropped my shields, reaching for the black
energy with my own. Infusing my voice with all the power I could muster I said,
“Stop.” It responded by ramming into me like a hurricane from hell, but I
quickly pulled my shields back into place and held firm until the black cloud
sagged and finally ran out of steam, vanishing with a metaphysical ‘pop’. I’d
worn it out. As strong as it was, it didn’t have much staying power.

The books dropped like stones. I released
the breath I had been holding and walked over to the kitchen to shut off the
water. A thick wad of paper towels plugged the sink, the ragged edges swaying
like white seaweed as the water flowed onto the floor.

I turned to Jacob who hesitated in the
doorway. “I think it's safe to come in. At least for now.” The energy hadn’t
really disappeared. I could feel it in the air, vibrating with anger. It would
manifest again as soon as it recovered.

Jacob came into the apartment cautiously
stepping over books and clothes. “ What did you do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I used to
think I knew what it was to be psychic, that I understood how it all worked,
but Mark’s death had rendered my knowledge base obsolete. I waved my hand in
the air, “I just focused on it and whatever it was fell apart. But it’ll be
back.”

He surveyed the damage with a frown.
“I've never seen anything like this.”

Neither had I, but now wasn't the time to
discuss it. I had no doubt the cease fire was temporary. There was no time to
waste. “We should probably check the bathroom. I bet the water is on in there
too.” I could hear what sounded like water thundering into a bathtub from where
I stood.

He nodded and led the way to the back of
the apartment. Both the bathtub and sink were overflowing. I turned off the tub
faucet and opened the drain while Jacob fished a washcloth out of the sink
drain and turned off the water there.

I grabbed towels off the rack and threw
them onto the floor to soak up some of the water. Handing some to Jacob I said,
“Here, you'd better go put these down in the kitchen before your neighbors
complain of a leak.”

He took the towels without comment and
headed for the kitchen leaving me to rummage through the linen closet for more.
I mopped the bathroom floor with some beach towels and then began to wipe down
the vanity, sloshing water back into the sink with my hands.

The bathroom was standard white tiles
with white walls, and, in typical guy fashion, Jacob hadn't bothered to
decorate it beyond the basics. The only personal touch was the cologne sitting
to the side of the sink faucet. From the emerald colored bottle, I recognized
it as a brand put out by the Djinn. Curious, I sniffed the bottle, inhaling the
scent of sandalwood and something I couldn't name, but it tickled my senses and
I felt my skin flush and my breath quicken.

I put the bottle down and rubbed my nose
to get the smell out. The amount of magic allowed in consumer products was strictly
regulated, so I wasn't worried about the cologne making me fall madly in lust
with Jacob, but, even so, I didn't like to be manipulated. I already found
Jacob attractive enough without snorting his cologne, there was no need to make
it worse than it already was.

I rounded up the remaining dry towels and
took them to the kitchen. Setting them on the kitchen counter for Jacob, I went
to the living room and started picking up clothes.

He paused from mopping the floor. “You
don't have to do that. You're not the maid.”

“I don't mind.”

“It's all garbage anyway. It'll be an
easy clean up.”

I frowned noting the label on the shirt
in my hands said Armani. Not exactly throw away clothing. “Why is it all
garbage?”

He crossed the room and took the shirt
from me, turning it until I could see the burn marks. “While I was sleeping,
something ironed my clothes and burned them all.”

“Did anything survive the iron?”

"It doesn't look like it.” He sat on
the couch and cradled his head in his hands. “Why is all this happening?”

“Well, I'm not sure, but I haven't seen a
ghost per se, so I think we're dealing with some kind of supernatural
backlash.”

“What? I don't get it.”

I went to sit next to him. “Sometimes
when people die, they stay on this plane as ghosts. For whatever reason, they
don't move on. Then there are people who die and move on, but some of their
emotional energy stays behind, lingering in the metaphysical plane and
attaching itself to people it recognizes.” There wasn't a lot of information
out there on ghosts, but what did exist, I'd read and reread until I had it
memorized.  In the absence of a ghost, it had to be some sort of residual
energy that had focused on Jacob.

“So, the day I was in your apartment it
was a ghost. Today it's a supernatural energy tornado?”

“Something like that. Your brother's
death and that of his family probably left a lot of volatile energy behind and
it seems to be focusing on you.” I moved a pile of clothes to the side so I
could sit next to Jacob on the couch.

“How do I make it stop?”

“I would bring in a witch. There may be
some charms that can blunt its effect. What I did here tonight isn't going to
last.” Already I could feel the energy building, weighing down on me.

“What about if we find the killer? Would
that help?”

I shrugged. “Possibly.”

His eyebrows went up. “What do you mean
possibly? I thought you were an expert?”

“Your niece was only my second ghost.”

Jacob held up a hand. “Wait, I don't get
it. I thought you were a top notch investigator.”

I shook my head at his all-too-common
assumption. “I got my P.I. license just before Mark died. I've only had one
case. The one that killed him.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“I know in the papers they said I was
some hot shot psychic detective, but that is not true. I'm really just an
antique dealer who took a few night classes for her PI license.” I took a deep
breath and fought not to flashback to the night of the accident. Sometimes the
memories came hard and fast, something the social worker had warned me would
happen. For a moment, even though my eyes were open, I didn't see Jacob's
apartment, but the road before me on a dark winter night, and then, the vision
of a young girl being strung up by her wrists to hang from the ceiling. It had
been the vision that obscured my view of the road so I couldn't see the curve.
I tensed waiting for the crash to come.

When Jacob touched me on the shoulder, I
started and gave a soft cry of surprise. Slowly Jacob's apartment came into
focus, replacing the dark memories I'd been lost in.

He jumped back as if I had burned him.
“Sorry. You were gone there for a moment.”

“Yeah, sometimes the memories...” I
trailed off. Silence fell between us.

Jacob heaved a sigh. “Well, things seem
to have calmed down here. I suppose we'll stick with the original plan and go to
what's left of my brother's house.”

“What about the mess?”

“I have a cleaning service. I'll give
them a call later.” Jacob went and opened the door. “Shall we?”

Chapter
Five

Jacob insisted on driving and I let him
without protest. I didn't like to drive with passengers anymore. Leaning my
head against the window, I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind, but
couldn't. Once the flashbacks started, I had no choice but to let them run
their course.

Of all the bad memories, I had managed to
avoid the worst. I hadn't seen Mark die. The last thing I remembered was the
sound of glass shattering and then nothing until days later when I woke up in a
hospital room. I knew the second I opened my eyes that Mark was gone and the
handcuffs on my wrists left no doubts about who would be held responsible.

Celia had come to visit me then, even
before the police, sweeping into my room with the grandeur of a queen. Her eyes
flashing, she had informed me in great detail exactly how I would go to prison
for the death of her son.

Jacob nudged my arm, bringing me back to
the present once more. “You're blanking out again. Are you okay?”

I nodded, mute, and put a hand to my
chest as if to quiet the rapid pounding of my heart.

“We're almost there.” When I didn't
respond, he looked at me closely. “Are you sure you're up for this?”

Again I nodded, not trusting myself to
speak. What could I say anyway? 'Sorry, I'm out of it. I'm busy remembering the
day my boyfriend died?' We didn't know each other well enough for that conversation
and talking about it just made the pain worse. The only thing that helped was
alcohol, but I was hours away from a drink. I would just have to tough it out.

Jacob slowed and turned into a driveway.
I sat up and watched as we approached what remained of his brother's house.
Before the fire, the house looked to have been an imposing colonial. Charred
white columns still supported a roof over the porch and most of the facade of
the house had survived intact--if shattered windows, holes, caved in ceilings,
and large scorch marks qualified as intact.

Jacob pulled up to the edge and put the
car in park. “This is it.”

I looked at the rubble, my eyes wide. If
I leaned to my right, I could see past the front of the house to a gaping hole
on the side. “Wow.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty big explosion.”

“Is it safe?”

He shrugged. “It's not hot anymore.”

“What about to walk through?” I
unfastened my seat belt.

“I don't know. Probably not.”

Great. My job just got harder. I opened
the door and left the car to walk the edge of the site. Because it had been a
gas explosion the house hadn't just collapsed in on itself, it had also shot
pieces of wood and other debris across the lot. Two by fours had become
projectile missiles, planting themselves in the ground, and glass littered the
earth, crunching underneath my feet. Splintered wood and charred support beams
filled the foundation of the house. There was no way I would be able to get
where I needed to go in that mess.

On cue, a cold wind traced its way up my
spine. “Hello Mark.” I turned to face him.

He hovered over me and smiled. His aura
was all shiny again, like he’d forgotten our angry conversation in the car. “I
thought you could use some help with this.”

For once, his death presented an
advantage. “Do you think you could scan the debris for me, find a pathway
maybe?”

Mark nodded and flitted off, diving in
and out of the wreckage like a dolphin cutting through waves. After several
minutes he came zooming back to me, stopping just short of passing through me.

“I think I've found the crime scene and a
safe way to get there.” He gave me a triumphant smile.

“Good.” I turned and went back to the car
where Jacob still sat inside. I tapped on his window. There was a mechanical
whir as the window came down. “I'm going in.”

“Should I come with you?”

I shook my head. “No, stay here. I might
need you if I get into trouble.” The last thing I wanted was for us both to get
trapped under shifting rubble. Better to have Jacob on firm ground and ready to
get help.

He nodded, and the window went back up. I
made my way back to the house, and, following Mark's directions, began the
delicate task of navigating the ruins. I felt like a gymnast on a balance beam
that had been run through a chainsaw. The remains of the house shifted as I trailed
Mark, threatening to suck me into the pits of spiked debris underneath. Finally
though, I lowered myself into what had once been a basement.

There's something unsettling about the
desolation of what was once a home that contained a happy family. It's malformed,
twisted, like someone with leprosy. You know there's a person underneath the
disease, but it's damn hard to see past the sores. The vibe I got didn't help
either. Dark and evil energy coalesced and flowed around me, poking and
prodding, trying to find a way in to consume me.

I took a deep breath and looked to the
sky to center myself. Fortunately, it was still daylight, which sapped strength
from the negative energy centered in the house. Even so, it still took my
breath away. I wouldn't want to be here at night.

I meditated for a moment like that, my
head up, soaking in the light from above and preparing my mind for the
transition back in time. When I was ready, I knelt and lay my hands on the
floor, grounding the energy of my body and let my shields drop. In a flash, I
peeled away layers of time until I found the night of the explosion.

A man was tied up to a weight bench, a
white athletic sock stuffed in his mouth for a gag. Not that he could've spoken
as he was unconscious. From his dark good looks, looks that reminded me of
Jacob, I assumed this was his brother. Back by the washing machine were two
more figures, also bound and gagged, but from their frantic movements, they
appeared to be conscious. I mentally pushed myself through the scene to where
they lay. One of the figures was, Darla, who I recognized by her long blonde
hair and white nightgown. The rope wound round her slim body made her look like
a china doll in bondage. The woman next to Darla must be her mother, she had
the same blonde hair and blue eyes, the same delicate face. They looked all too
breakable, both of them.

The only people in the basement not tied
up were two men. One, dressed in all black, tall and thin with a big hooked
nose and fine, long fingered hands. The other had the physique of a football
player who started taking steroids in utero. His biceps bulged with muscle and
his pecs, while firm, were big enough to warrant a bra. The thick block of his
neck blended right into his shoulders. The guy had the disturbing tendency to
leer at the girl’s mother.

The man in black moved to stand next to
Jason, a black leather satchel in one hand. He set the bag down on the cement
floor and unzipped it, withdrawing a tourniquet and a set of surgical
instruments. “Tomas, bring me the bucket,” he said to the football goon.

Tomas lumbered to do as the man in black
asked. Dropping a white plastic pail next to the satchel, he returned to the
mother, running a hand up her leg and smiling when she flinched. My skin
crawled as Tomas lifted her skirt above her hips at the same time the man in
black wrapped a tourniquet around Jason's arm and stabbed a needle into a vein.
I tried to close my eyes, but they were already closed and metaphysics didn't
recognize eyelids anyway.

The past continued to play out in my
mind's eye like streaming video. Video I couldn't stop. I was about to witness
a rape and a murder. From a great distance, I felt bile rise up in my throat.
Oh, God.

I almost broke contact and walked out.
There were some things I just refused to watch, but the man in black finally
seemed to notice what Tomas was up to.

“What are you doing? Stop it.” He walked
over the Tomas and slapped the goon’s hands away.

Tomas gave the man in black a dirty look.
“The boss didn't say I couldn't.”

“I
am
the boss, you idiot.” The
man in black gave an impatient shake of his head. “Or should I suggest that you
get a collar? Make you into a puppet for the cause? At least then I could count
on you to follow orders.”

Tomas blanched and then glowered, but his
partner didn't notice. I wondered what kind of collar would scare a muscleman
like Tomas.

Just then, a smothered wail sounded, and
Darla, who had managed to pull herself upright, fell against the man in black,
knocking him to the ground. Spunky kid.

The man in black landed on his tailbone,
hands raised to fend her off. Darla spit out her gag and lunged, snapping her
mouth around a finger, biting down hard until I heard the sound of bone
cracking. He screamed and kicked her off of him with such force, she flew through
the air and slammed against the concrete wall.

“Bloody hell,” he said wrapping his hand
in a T-shirt he grabbed from a nearby laundry basket. “The little bitch bit me.
I’m bleeding.” He walked over to where the Darla lay, still and silent. Swearing,
he planted several vicious kicks in her ribs. “I think she broke my finger.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Tomas,
looking clueless.

The man in black whirled on Tomas. “I
want you to pay, you jackass, for your stupidity. If I fail, it will be because
of you, and I will make sure everyone knows it.”

Tomas had the good sense to remain
silent, his face impassive. If it had been me, I would've run. There was no
doubt in my mind the man in black would make Tomas pay in really painful ways
for any mistakes.

The man in black took a deep, steadying
breath. “Take her,” he pointed to Darla, “and put her with her mother. Make
sure she won’t be any trouble.” At that, the mother moaned and thrashed in her
bounds, but neither Tomas nor the man in black paid attention to her.

Tomas scooped Darla’s limp form up with a
surprising amount of grace for his size and dropped her back by her mother. She
landed on the cement floor with a dull, hopeless thud.

The man in black winced as he tested his
finger and said, “Find the gas valve and set the timer. We've got an hour
before the bank opens, we have to be done by then.”

“Sure thing.” Tomas disappeared with a
little black bag of his own into the dark, unlit part of the basement while the
man in black returned to his instruments. I concentrated my energy and followed
Tomas knowing I didn't want to see what the man in black was going to do next.
Watching people die wouldn't help me or Jacob. What I needed was information,
and when in doubt, eavesdrop on the stupidest criminal. A tip I picked up from
my PI classes.

It was a good move. I lucked out as Tomas
had a cell phone and he called someone who, based on his habit of calling her
‘babe’, I decided was a girlfriend.  He chatted with her the whole time he was
rigging an explosive device to the main gas line to the house.

“You all packed, babe?” he asked.

My stomach turned at his version of a
lovey-dovey voice. The man had been ready to rape a woman in front of her own
child. Disgusting. I said as much, I couldn't keep it in even though I knew
Tomas would never hear me.

“Yeah, we're almost done here. This dude
I'm with is nuts, but the pay is good. I should have my cut of the money by
noon and then we're off to the tropics. Just you, me, and a big wad of cold,
hard cash.”

I heard the girl say something on the
other end, but couldn't quite make out the words.

“Don't worry, babe. It'll be a clean job.
The bank president is going to do all the stealing for us, they'll never know I
was involved. Hell, I probably don't even have to leave the country.”

She said something in response, her tone
disapproving.

Tomas laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.
Better safe than sorry. Don't worry, I'm not going to change our plans.” He
twisted a final wire. “Well, I'm done here. I'd better get going. We're leaving
for the bank soon. See you later, babe.” He flipped his phone shut and shoved
it into a pocket. Not bothering to pick up his tools or spare wire, he opened
the valve on the gas main and hit the power button on a timer made out of a
digital alarm clock. “Show time,” he said with a grin as he walked back to the
main part of the basement.

I followed, hiding behind Tomas so all I
could see was his broad back. The extent of my x-ray vision was limited to my
eyelids, I couldn’t see through solid objects. Fortunately, the man in black
had already done whatever it was he did as he met Tomas halfway.

“Is the timer on the igniter set?” he
asked.

Tomas waved a hand. “Yep. We've got five
minutes.”

“Excellent. Let's go.”

Watching over Tomas' shoulder as the men
made to leave, I saw a third man had joined them. It was Jason, but something
was off. His eyes were empty and his face slack. He stood still and stiff and
unmoving. I went up to him, close enough that, if I'd been more than a mental
presence, we would've touched, and watched his chest. It didn't move. Jason
wasn't breathing.  He didn't blink either. He was risen from the dead.

I started to hyperventilate then. It was
too much. I knew there was nothing I could do to change the past, knew my
abilities didn't work that way. But I still felt dirty, tainted by my powerless
witness of what had happened to Jacob's family. Once I fulfilled my obligation
to Jacob, I vowed I would never take another case again. I was tired of being
surrounded by death.