The Final Catch: Book 1: See Jane Charm (A Tarot Sorceress Series) (11 page)

The appearance of the second set of handcuffs was preceded by the merest twinkle of light, as if a shiny snap on Justine’s belt caught the sunlight. In that same slowed moment of time, Emilia looked over at me, and I looked back at her.
I knew that she knew what I knew
. Officer Justine was from that cursed tarot deck!

Our first major!

“You're from the tarot,” Emilia blurted out.

Nooo, don’t let her know that we know!
I ducked back down into the boxwood and Devon was down there waiting for me. He gave me a grin, exposing the not so subtle points on his teeth.

“Takes one to know one, I guess,” I heard Justine say to Emi.

“Then why are you arresting me? You know who I am. If I kill someone, it's their time. I'm a death dealer. It's what I do.”

“And I'm justice. That’s what I do.” She led Emilia out to her police car and put her in the back seat.

Then she walked the long walk down the street and retrieved Emilia's sword; Officer Day looked good with a sword in her hand.

She tossed it in the trunk of her car.

The cavalry arrived, just a little too late if you ask me. Behind Justine, paramedics, firemen and other cops arrived. They emerged quickly and randomly, like a nest of disturbed ants and moved into the bank, yet somehow they missed the dead man on the street. I know because Devon, with a tight grip on me and a tighter grip on his backpack which held my Gucci full of Maisie’s money, dragged me from the boxwood bush, down the street, passed the body and to my car.

Chapter 3

Five of Swords: No Place Like Home

He made me drive him to his house. The place he lived in, an old gothic house right on the border of the east end of Meadowvale in a little area called old Chinatown. It was so out of the way I doubted satellite GPS had the ability to find us. His house was actually in better shape then I’d imagined.  A little dark and dingy, but with fresh paint, a few throw pillows and refinish on the hardwood floor, the place had potential. “You own this place?” I asked. I’d taken him for a street person, but maybe I had Devon all wrong.

“I own the person that owns it,” he said, the growl in his voice more menacing than usual, as if his vocal chords were thicker than the average person, but this time the sound of his voice unnerved me more than ever. I’d played out a little head-fantasy that had us meet Maisie here, and we hand over the cash to her, then we’d have a little nosh and describe the gory details of the heist. Maisie would calculate the cost of getting Emilia out on bail, and we’d all go home and sleep it off. 

But that wasn’t what Devon had in mind.

He dragged me to the bedroom, but I dug in my heels, literally. He’d have a hell of a time getting those grooves out of the old oak floor. Devon had a tight grip and it only got tighter as I struggled. He pulled me down a narrow hall and into the dark room, flipped on the light switch and illuminated a creepy looking man cave bedroom, with, of course, a giant bed in the middle of the room, a four poster bed, all the posts carved and ornate, including a canopy-valence thingy. Quite a dramatic piece of furniture that bed

His grip and his tug became positively inhuman,. I stopped struggling and decided to go along and save some wear and tear on my arms. I’d wait for an opportunity to get away, but I wasn’t going to give him any peace while I figured out what to do next.

“Let me go you bastard!

Devon's bedroom was even creeper when he dimmed the lights. I hadn’t noticed that the décor was black and red with chains hanging from the ceiling! At first I thought they were curtains, but noooo, they were chains. The bed was very well made, in fact the black brocade spread had a tight fit and the pillows looked as if they’d never been touched. But all together, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this wasn’t a room for sleeping in.

“Lie on the bed Jane or I'll burn the money. Maisie won't be pleased.”

“Whatever. You can't get away with this.” I decided to sit on the bed and test its springy quality. I was an award winning gymnast when I was a kid. I was about seven at the time. I figured I might still have a few moves left in me. So, I sat on the bed, believing a well executed front flip and spin was the answer to my escape.

Devon became pleased, so pleased he grinned when I cooperated and sat down. He loosened his grip a little and leaned in real close. “A little afternoon delight, Jane. Then you and your cash can be on your way.”

“I bet Maisie is looking for us right now, more specifically, she’s looking for that cash, Devon, and she probably knows about this house.”

“I doubt that,” he said. Then he let me go.  I tried to stand, but I seemed to be stuck to the bed. This unnerved me, but I didn’t want Devon to see that I now worried like a crazy woman about how to make my escape. I tried to look like I was the epitome of casualness. I lay back on the bed and watched as Devon reached into his backpack and slowly took out a brick of Maisie’s cash, held it up, blew on it and set it on fire!

“You're going to have to work time and a half for Maisie to repay that little pile of ash.”

Oh, shit! I can’t have him burning that cash up and Maisie thinking it was me that took it.
Omg
, I began to lose my cool. I didn’t want to be stuck doing that woman’s dirty work for one second longer than I had to. And I sure didn’t want her to take her bad temper out on Sia!

“Alright. Alright!” I sat bolt up. No more cash burning. I’d figure out how to break free once I got him under my control. I lay back on the bed and tried to look a little sultry, but I wasn’t feeling it, recovering those crazy feelings of lust I had for him when I saw him come into Maisie’s shop and again when he walked into the bank to rob the place, wasn’t working.

Devon snapped his fingers. Then he hissed.

And I thought, oh, oh we got some kink coming, and I was right, but I had no idea what kind of kinkiness to expect from Devon, or what direction, or form it might come in. Then, in his deep growly voice, he said, “Ssssnakes.”

I’m pretty sure he said snakes!

I waited it for it, but when nothing happened I began to wonder if he was having a delusional fantasy. Something on one of the bed posts flickered and moved at the foot of the bed. It caught my eye.

In another moment I saw the carved decorations on the bed posts become animated and small snakes slid away from their decorative positions on the posts. They slithered downward, encircled my wrists and ankles.

I freaked out inwardly, but didn’t dare let Devon know.  Still on my back, and more stuck to the bed than ever, I didn’t have a clue of what to do. I didn’t hate snakes, but I didn’t love them either. How had Devon done that, make them come to life, or had they been there all along writhing and making their way toward me, and I hadn’t noticed?

No more nonchalance from me.

I hiccupped on my fear. I hiccupped again and again.

Devon grinned lustfully.

I struggled against the serpents at my wrists and ankles. They tied themselves into knots and tied themselves to the bedposts.  The thin, slithery creatures, four of them, bound my ankles and wrists to the bed.

It wasn’t like I’d never before found myself in this position, but generally my partners and I agreed to certain rules.

Here Devon was in control and my options had just become very limited              “Not gonna happen, Devon,” I said. The serpents continued their mission to secure me to the bed.

Once they’d twisted themselves into a knot, the serpents—voila -- became rope. They pulled tighter than I’d expected, and I pulled against them, trying to keep them loose to prevent them from cutting into my skin, that was until I realized that my struggles and writhing made Devon even more excited than he already appeared. He threw his backpack and his hoodie on the floor in a crumpled heap and came toward me, pulling on his grungy undershirt

The disarray of his backpack and hoodie sent me into a rage. I hated the way that disorderliness made me feel.

What a mess this situation was at every level!

That disarray made my anger surge so strongly that my heart  squeezed, like a stress ball in the hands of a wrestler. I chewed my bottom lip, but with no chance to organize the mess in the corner, I was unable to muster my magical energies, but enough fear and rage settled in my face and eyes to make a scary expression, I guessed, because Devon, took an unsure, backward step.

His hesitation allowed me a moment to summon a voice and I spoke, well, it wasn’t really me, but the words came from my mouth “Ssssnakes,” I hissed at him, with an intonation exactly like his.

The ceiling chains began a slight sway which grew stronger until they clanked together. We both watched in mutual awe as they picked up speed and took on a life of their own, swinging and rattling and chinking together

They became snakes, big ones!

And they began to drop onto Devon. The first one hit his shoulders then fell to the floor, but it leaped back and immediately wrapped itself around his ankles, then another fell and this time it stayed on Devon’s broad shoulders, a third slithered down and wrapped around his waist. He pulled one away and tossed it with super human strength. It hit the wall but wound its way back toward him. He looked at me.

“No, you can't do that,” he said to me, like it was an order. And then another snake fell onto him. He struggled with it, but there were too many.

“Quick fix, make them stick, works like magic crazy glue, snakes ball together all over you,” I said, only this time in Maisie’s voice The words just came to me, like a jingle from a bad commercial.

And my voice sounded a lot like Maisie’s.

Devon screamed. “Maaissie!”

He was furious and wrapped up in snakes that stuck to him like glue. Only his face remained uncovered. He looked over at me -- for an instant I caught sight of his demon nature in his red eyes, and he terrified me -- as I realized he was well and truly bound by the snakes I’d called down from the ceiling, I felt incredibly pleased with myself.

I was still tied to the bed, but Devon’s backpack was directly in my line of vision, and strangely his hoodie was no longer in a rumpled heap, but folded neatly. The items were in the corner on the floor of the room and something told me that my little snakes were going to release me from my predicament a lot sooner than his.

*

But several hours later I still lay on the bed in Devon’s man-cave bedroom, pulling at the ropes on my wrists. I thought about the brick of cash Devon burned. How was I able to repair a broken perfume bottle and turn hanging chains into snakes that entwined someone, but not get myself free?

Beside me, Devon still wrapped in snakes, stood like a mummy, his eyes glaring. Devon’s words echoed in my brain, “You're going to have to work a long time for Maisie to repay that one.” That was exactly what I didn’t want to do! I even hoped that once I got this cash to her she might relent and let me be on my way, but the way things looked at the moment, the three of us; me, Devon and the cash were going nowhere.

I tried to remember exactly what Devon had done when he dragged me in here.  I know he hissed out the word snake and he’d snapped his fingers. I’d forgotten that part.
Alright, let see if I’m capable of snapping fingers while tied up like this
. I tried and while my attempt was weak, it was possible.

I lay back on the bed and tried to relax and ignore Devon’s vitriolic spew describing the things he was going to do to me when he got free. It looked like freedom for either of us was out of the picture.

The Final Catch: A Tarot Sorceress Series

Click here to find all the chapters of Book Two: See Jane Hex