“I know,” I said, but my words were drowned out by Rhi’s indignation. She planted her hands on her hips, jaw jutting.
“Do you have any idea how hard Lindsey’s had it? She’s been bullied most her life because of her gift. People like you ridicule her and tease her and call her all sorts of names, and when they find out she really is psychic, they avoid her or spread rumors. It’s a modern version of a mob with pitchforks and torches coming to drive her out of town. She’s been fired from I don’t know how many jobs for being weird or creepy or whatever. And now you’re making fun of her, too. You can go straight to hell and your big-ass dog, too!”
Lindsey didn’t speak, her face pale and set. She blinked, clearly trying not to cry.
“All right. Suit yourselves,” I said. I wasn’t mad, but I also wasn’t feeling particularly charitable. How could someone believe in psychics and not be at least open to the possibility that other magical creatures existed? They’d jumped to conclusions about me, just like they thought I had about Lindsey.
I could have explained myself, but I had minimal patience on a good day. Only a handful of people knew I was a witch, and I was fine keeping it that way. I’d only said something to these women because Aunt Mitzi sounded about as evil and demented as Aunty Mommy, and I could empathize. My empathy had limits, however.
“Cover your asses. I’ve been keeping your ghost under wraps and she’s pissed as hell. She’ll probably throw a tantrum when I let her go. Good luck and have a nice day.”
I let go of my magic as I headed for the door, Ajax trotting at my heels. I figured I had about five to twenty seconds before she broke free and went on a rampage. I didn’t dawdle. I’ve seen enough ghost movies to want to be clear of the epicenter when she went nova.
We made it to the front door right when she escaped. The store turned frigid and ice crawled up the walls and frosted the windows. The pressure in the shop dropped and my ears popped. Power laced with rage thundered against me like breaking waves. I pushed on the door, but it was still locked.
All around the store, tchotchkes, clothing, art, jewelry, swords and everything else began rising up in the air, revolving in a slow circle. Call it Geriatric Hurricane Mitzi. I had a feeling that slow spin would soon accelerate to buzz saw speeds, and when it did, anything left in the store was going to be sushi.
I sent a zap of magic into the lock. It clicked and I thrust the door open. It shoved me back and slammed shut. Fucking Mitzi.
“What’s happening?” Lorel shouted over the angry buzzing that had swelled from a low hum to a loud grinding. Like a bunch of stone giants gnashing their teeth.
The three women huddled close as more and more things floated up to join the slow-motion tornado. It wheeled around them and as I expected, started picking up speed. Glass shattered as items crashed through the display cases, escaping into the whirl. The razor-edged glass followed along with everything else that wasn’t nailed down. Oddly, the chandeliers didn’t even sway.
Mitzi the bitchy ghost had more control than I’d hoped.
Ice glazed the windows and hardened. More ran up over the door, making it even harder to escape. I turned back to the terrified women and cast a shield around them. I’d only learned how to make them recently, and wasn’t sure how long it would hold. Long enough, I hoped.
Then things got worse, because of course they did. The scabbards on the swords slid off and the weapons started twirling like parade batons. It appeared Mitzi wasn’t going to be satisfied with merely killing us, she wanted to mulch us, too. Already the swords had started shredding whatever came within reach.
I thought I could blow a hole in the side of the building to get us out, but she could easily follow. I needed to shut her down. Fast. The spinning had begun to speed up. I could feel pressure tugging me and my hair lifted and invisible wind plucked at my clothes. Ajax growled.
“It’s okay,” I told him, my mind racing.
Witches use a lot of various spells that include metals, paper, plants—you name it and some witch has probably used it—but in the end, it all boils down to the caster’s intent, determination, focus, and tolerance for pain. Okay, the last isn’t necessarily true, but pain happened often enough that I’d decided it was one of the four foundation stones of magic.
I did all of my magic without spells because I’d never learned how to make them. I was pretty good at it, too, since I had determination—some might say stubbornness—in spades, relentless focus (ask me how to hold a grudge), and an ability to stay focused through intense pain, thanks to Aunty Mommy. Intent was the hardest part. Aka, figuring out what the hell to do.
I didn’t have time to consider, so I went the triage route. First, eliminate the immediate threat. That meant safely grounding the flying debris first, then dealing with Mitzi. I had a feeling the first would be a lot easier than the second. Especially since I had no idea how to exorcize a ghost. Or kill one.Coulda ghost be killed? They were already dead, weren’t they?
I snorted at myself. Here I was congratulating myself on my focus and then letting my mind wander. Sometimes I wondered if I was too stupid to live.
Easy money to bet Mitzi would attack as soon as I put a stop to her carousel of death and dismemberment. So that meant I really needed to deal with her at the same time. I’d caught her last time because I had a sense of where she was, but this time it wouldn’t be so easy.
I scowled as I considered the options, then shook my head. I didn’t have time to ponder solutions. The tornado had accelerated and the sound had grown to a roar. We were almost out of time.
The air pulled inward, dragging me a step forward. I cemented myself to the floor, and then flung a wad of sticky magic into the air. I told it to split up into as many strands as needed to grab all the stuff whirling in the air. And I told it not to tangle up as it whirled. Good thing magic didn’t have to make scientific sense, or the physics would never work for this. Or maybe it was supposed to and I just didn’t give a fuck about physics, and so my intent overrode the way things were supposed to work. It was my backup plan, anyhow, in case things went to hell before I could snare myself a ghost.
With half my mind concentrating on grabbing up the flying objects, I released power in a flat wave until it reached wall to wall. I poured more in, running it up the walls and then ceiling, so that it enclosed the entire space. I started shrinking it, which was made more difficult by maintaining my other project. I was really hoping to get myself and the three women clear before Mitzi started her rampage.
It belatedly occurred to me that I could drop the first spell and focus on collapsing the second as fast as possible instead of splitting my focus, since the second would contain Mitzie and her ammunition. In the exact moment that I dropped it, Mitzi deployed her tornado, pushing it down and out to encompass the entire space. Things whizzed past and bounced off my protective shield. I might have heard screams from Lindsey, Rhi, and Lorel, but couldn’t be sure with the noise from Mitzi’s would-be-fatal tantrum. I knew their shield remained, so they were safe enough for the moment.
I drew hard on my magic bubble, careful to maintain its strength as I shrank its size. Damon had made me all too aware that you had to consider each piece of the spell, so you didn’t end up with giant holes in it, or worse, giant holes in yourself. The result of his teaching me this had been me seriously overthinking, instead of relying on myself like I had always done. He told me I’d been lucky. I told him I was just good. He’d rocked my confidence though, and I was doubting myself.
The roaring sound dimmed as the whirlwind stopped moving and everything crammed together. Mitzi wasn’t happy. She shrieked. A demonic sound that sent prickles of ice down my spine. She fought hard, and I wound my magic around the entire mess, deciding overkill was the better part of glory, not to mention survival.
I contemplated the hovering mess, trying to decide what to do next. I needed to extract Mitzi and then set all the rest of the crap on the floor, though I doubted enough survived for a decent sale. Apparently, Mitzi didn’t like her daughters consorting with their enemy cousin and planning to make her part-owner of the new business.
A shiver ran through me and a droplet of cold water landed on my forehead. I looked up to the ceiling. Melting icicles hung like stalactites from the chandeliers.
