Chapter Ten
“SON OF A BITCH,” Shiloh choked out.
The hag dragged herself up out of the dirt, filthy and sour, and grabbed his jaw. Her fingers dug into the joint, deep enough it looked like the skin would split, and she leaned in to force stale gray smoke into his eyes. It soaked in and stained his mismatched eyes a solid dirty gray.
Shiloh recoiled, sprawled back awkwardly from his pinned foot, and spat on his dirty hand. He rubbed the mud and saliva into his eyes, his mouth shaped around an inaudible hex, and squinted through the mask. It cleared his vision enough that he was able to grab the hag when she lunged for him. His fingers dug into her throat and held her. She tried to dissolve and slip away, but she couldn’t escape. So instead, she shoved handfuls of her death into his mouth and up his nose.
For a second, Jonah hesitated as he was torn between the two men. In the end, Luke was his client of sorts, and his gran had taught him never to leave a job unfinished. He ran over and grabbed Luke under the arms to drag him back over to Deborah.
“This is on you,” Jonah accused Deborah. She shook her head and tried a dismissive, out-of-place laugh. He raised his voice over her denial. “You asked Luke for help. You asked me for help. You broke your contract with Shiloh’s father. All of this is on you, Deborah. Remember it or not, the sin is on you. And part of this world or not, you know what a sin will cost.”
She pulled her flask out again and sucked down a mouthful of whatever was in it. Her hands shook as she tried to cap it again. Her watch clicked against the metal.
“How would I not remember?” she demanded.
“Because you’re pissed?” Jonah snapped.
It felt right.Almostright. He could feel the way it nearly fit into the puzzle. The key piece. He just needed to find out exactly how it slotted into place. Before he could try, a pale, stocky figure lurched through the gate.
“Deborah! Love.” Arlene grabbed her wife’s arm in those ruined hands of hers and tried to pull her away. “I knew something was wrong. Come away. Get inside.”
“What are you—? You shouldn’t be here,” Deborah said. “You’re not well. This isn’t a good place for you to be.”
“It’s where I’m going to be,” Arlene said with flat bitterness that flared and then faded away again. “But not you. Come inside. It’s safe there.”
She tugged. Deborah started to go with her, but then pulled away.
“I can’t!” she said. “We’ve already lost two hexes. At least. If more are lost, if any of our clients realize what’s happening—”
“I don’t care,” Arlene said. “I’m only here for you. I only came back for you.”
That was it.
The whole thing slotted into place. Jonah grabbed Deborah’s arm and lifted it to look at the fancy scarred watch on her tanned wrist.
“Oh,” he said. “I got it wrong. I thought the hag was here for you. Thatyouwere hiding from it.”
Arlene let go of Deborah and stepped forward. “Shut up.”
“But it wasn’t,” Jonah said. “It was hiding from you.”
There was a beat of silence, confused on Deborah’s part and resigned on Arlene’s.
Arlene Haddon. Who’d fallen hard, Jonah was guessing, for a lawyer she’d met in Vegas.
“It wasn’t meant to come here,” Arlene said. She didn’t look at Deborah. Her expression was pleading as she met Jonah’s eyes. “She was never meant to see it. To know. That’s the point. That she could never know.”
Jonah looked down at the poppet in his hands. He lifted it to his face and sniffed the heavy cotton-wadding body of it. The doll smelled like grave mold and dirt, but mixed in with it was whiskey and gin, orange liqueur and Baileys. Years of offerings.
“And as long as she was a drunk, she never had a clue,” he said. “But she kept trying to get better, didn’t she.”
Arlene folded pale, chapped lips together. “For me,” she said. “She wanted to do it for me, and I had to stop her.”
“And all those people had to die,” Jonah said. “So she’d drink, and once she drank, she’d forget.”
“What are you both talking about?” Deborah said. “I don’t understand.”
“And you don’t have to,” Arlene said. “They’ll die, and you’ll forget.”
