Shannon paused in the doorway. “Are you doing what I think you are?”
“No,” I said automatically. “Do me a favor. Keep Jesse occupied.”
“If he could move without pain, he’d already be in here checking on you. He knows you better than you think.”
“Shit. Go distract him.”
“How am I supposed to do that? Sit on his lap and call him Daddy?”
Now, there was a disturbing image. “No, but feminine distress should work. Can you summon some tears?”
“You owe me,” she muttered, stomping back toward the living room.
“Any advice?” I asked Butch.
The little dog sat perched at the top of the vermilion grimoire, watching me turn the illuminated pages. He yapped once, tail wagging.
“Really?” Intrigued, I got out the Scrabble tiles and laid them on the bed.
He bounced into motion and pawed them like crazy. When he finished, they read: Stay here dont die.
I laughed softly. “One of these days, you’ve got to explain to me how you can do this stuff.”
Butch gazed at me like that should be obvious, but right then I had other concerns. I returned to the grimoire and kept trying. I found spells to bring back a lover, for luck and health, charms to keep milk sweet and to drive away gophers.
I sighed. “Really, Mom? Gophers?”
“What’re you doing?” Rudd stood outside the bedroom door, peering at me.
“Reading.”
“We’re making frozen pizza. Would you like some?” So this was the good cop. I could easily see Clemsen playing the other role.
“No, I’m fine.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, but it seemed irrelevant.
“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Mutely I nodded and moved on to the blue spell book. The ones in here were complex, and required will and power, not special ingredients. At last I located one but it would affect everyone equally, everyone but me.
Is this a good idea? Given how I’d overpowered the trust me spell, there was a good chance I’d screw it up. I had no training, and this was an advanced charm. Yet I didn’t see a better option. If I don’t get out of here, if I don’t end this, then more people will be hurt. So I’ll accept the consequences, however dire.
Making my choice, I closed the bedroom door and spent countless moments memorizing the spell. I drew a circle around myself, infusing it with heat. This felt more natural each time I did it, though no less painful. Considering the way I’d come into my power—my mother’s power—I wasn’t surprised. A lifetime of bearing such penance prepared me for the full-body agony of casting. Once I sealed myself in, I locked the desired outcome in mind. I poured everything into the working. It had to take.
“ ‘Forget me—forget me, my face, and my name. I was never here; we never were. Let this place feel as if I never came.’ ” As I spoke the last word, a white mist rolled outward from the circle, trickling beneath the door.
I needed to give it time to permeate everywhere. A forget fog—it shouldn’t be permanent, but if I’d cast it correctly, none of them would remember I ought to be in the house for a while. They wouldn’t come looking for me. Since Shannon wouldn’t go to her dad’s house, then I’d hide her here with Jesse; that was best. Despite her love and loyalty, she couldn’t be with me when I faced Montoya. I wasn’t that criminally irresponsible.
My new clothes, along with the flowered suitcase, I left behind. They would weigh me down. I put a few crucial items in my purse, including the grimoires. Now that I could use them, I’d never let them out of my sight again. Butch yapped as I unlocked the window. Sure, the locks were securely fastened, but this house had been proofed against intruders, not people inside who wanted to escape.
“It doesn’t work on dogs, huh?”
He barked a negative.
“Of course not. I guess if I don’t take you, you’ll set up such a racket that it’ll bring someone to investigate while I’m making my getaway.”
And that would be bad news, given they wouldn’t know what the hell I was doing here. They’d call Glencannon to have me arrested—and the only way I could explain it to him would be to make him think everyone here had gone crazy. While my lucky penny might lend credence to the tale, I preferred to avoid that scenario.
So I set Butch on top of the stuff in my purse, shouldered it, hunched down, and slid over the windowsill. Pulling it down after me, I hoped Clemsen would make the rounds soon and find the window unlocked. I hated leaving them vulnerable, even so briefly, but I had to get away.
Time to finish this.
I trudged five miles. If not for my time in the jungle, the walk would’ve defeated me. In the car with Glencannon, I’d tracked the way I needed to go, but it didn’t seem as long, riding. After dark, in the middle of nowhere, without food or water, and a small, scared dog in my bag, this trip sucked. To his credit, Butch didn’t complain. He got down and walked part of the way, sniffing ahead of me like a wee safety patrol.
When I saw the lights, I almost wept with relief. It was a gas station in the middle of nowhere, glowing against the dark with halogen brightness. I took note of the number painted on the building. The only car in the lot belonged to the clerk, well and good. Staying to the shadows, I crept around back; I didn’t want the cashier to see me, though I felt near-starved. I made my way to the pay phone and dialed Chuch’s cell. Thank God I know it by heart. But he might not answer if he doesn’t recognize this number. He might not be there. If Montoya has him—
On the third ring, he picked up, rewarding my gamble. “Who’s this?”
“Corine.”
“Thank God, prima. Eva has been driving me crazy.”