Read 90_Minutes_to_Live Online

Authors: JournalStone

90_Minutes_to_Live (31 page)

“You know how sorry I am about your mama, don't you? I never should have let your mother drive that night. She hated driving when it was dark out.”

A knot formed in the middle of her chest. Unlike Trich, her heart could still feel. “Dad, don't—don't do that to yourself.”

“I love you Baby Girl. Now go to the police. Tell them I can hear the ocean. I'm near the beach-”

“Gimme that.” A gruff voice cut in before the call ended.

Julia sat dazed. She set the phone down and watched Trich finish his tacos as though this was a casual dinner meeting and not a matter of life and death.

“You have until midnight to reverse the spell,” he said, finishing his Coke.

Midnight was only an hour and a half away. Ninety minutes to undo a gypsy's curse and save her father's life.

She got up and straightened her back “I'll find the spell for your associate and I'll find one for you too.”

Trich raised a blond brow. “Is that a threat?” he asked in an amused tone.

Without saying anything else, she turned and left Willie's. The closer she got to her car, the more her legs wobbled. She swallowed the acidic taste in her mouth. When she slid into the driver's seat, she covered her face and gulped for air. Tears filled her eyes as her father's terrified voice flooded her mind.

Breathe, Julia, breathe.

She closed her eyes and wiped her wet cheeks. No more crying. Her time was precious now. She pulled out her iPhone and found Sam's name in her address book. Her finger paused over the number. This was her battle. She put the phone away and sped home.

 

*   *   *

 

When Julia returned to her apartment, it was 10:45. She rushed through her door with her book, ready to start her search for a reversal spell. From what Julia knew about the Sinti they kept to themselves, even among the tribe. Loners by nature, they had been reluctant to come out as spell casters thirty years ago but others, like Salazar, encouraged as many supernaturals to go public, in order to start a revolution. At times it felt like the revolution was still going.

Lulu greeted her in the living room with a soft meow. Her sleepy blue eyes looked up at Julia as though she could tell something was wrong.

“I can do this, right Lulu?” Julia said, sitting on the couch.

The cat jumped beside her and rubbed her soft fur against Julia's arm.

“Thanks.” Julia stroked her companion behind the ear. She placed her left hand over the infinity symbol on the book cover and the pages came to life as it searched for something about the Sinti Tribe. Once again, her body lit up with pulsating energy. Lulu rubbed her head closer to Julia's warm skin.

The pages fluttered with each turn and came to a sudden stop. She lifted the book so she could see the picture, an illustration of a Sinti gypsy tribe member casting a spell on a person who had wronged her. According to the text, Sinti were known to use their enemy's weaknesses against them.

Julia narrowed her eyes. What did Trich's associate's hair have to do with his weakness?

As she contemplated the question, Lulu jerked her head up. She scurried off the couch and vanished into the kitchen. Julia lifted her head as well, listening for what had scared her cat. A large shadow passed outside her first-story window. She hurried to her front closet and grabbed the metal baseball bat her father had given her as a housewarming gift when she had moved out on her own. With the handle in her firm grasp, she opened the door, seconds away from swinging.

“Whoa!” Sam raised his arms to shield himself. “It's me Jules!”

Her heart pounded beneath her chest as she lowered her weapon. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn't call, so I got worried.” his brows knitted. “What happened with Trich?”

She bit down on her bottom lip to stop it from shaking. She couldn't let her emotions take over again.

“You were right,” she said, turning back into her apartment. “He wants to use me for something,” she put the bat back in the closet.

Sam followed her in, closing the door behind him. “Like what?”

She showed him her book, the page still open on the picture of the Sinti woman cursing her enemy.

“He wants me to find a reversal spell on a gypsy curse,” she said. “One that makes your hair fall out,” she filled him in on Emilie Balanescu and her ninety-minute time limit as well.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Jules, we can't do this alone.”

“I know,” she set the book back on the table and the pages turned at a rapid speed before settling on a spell.

Sam widened his eyes. “To conjure a spirit? What are you thinking?”

“The only person who can break this spell is Emilie Balanescu and she's dead.”

“Fuck Jules, I watched you do a retrieval spell and go meet a demon but I'm not going to let you do
this
,” he grabbed her book.

Julia gasped. “Sam,
don't
!”

His face tightened as the book emitted a blue light. Soon, the light flooded his body and the book's warding spell attacked him like a taser. He collapsed to the ground, shaking with each violent shock.

She yanked her book from his grasp. Back in its owner's possession, the blue light dissipated but the damage had already been done. She put her hands on Sam's chest to hold him down with each convulsion. Why would Sam do this to himself? Every librarian knew each book came with a protective warding spell.

“Sam?” It took all her strength to keep his strong frame from leaping off the floor. “Please, stop....”

He pursed his lips together. “Sp—spell-”

Julia shook her head. “What spell?”

Sam shut his eyes and he began to chant at a feverish pace. She leaned in and heard bits and pieces of Romani. She pulled back, her mouth open and eyes wide. He had taken her book in order to bond with the conjuring spell so he could perform it himself. He shuddered under her hands for another moment. Then, his body went still.

“Sam?” she held in her breath and pressed her knuckles against his hot forehead. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes fluttered open.

She finally exhaled and wrapped her arms around him. He lifted one arm to return the embrace. She pressed her face against his stubbly cheek, breathing in the salty scent of sweat and the faint smell of his woodsy cologne. When she lifted her head, Sam’s soft gray eyes stared at her. Another surge of energy filled the space between them but it wasn't from either library book.

Sam's gaze drifted behind her. “Look.”

She sat up and turned. A heavy-set woman wearing a long flowered dress and an apron stood in her living room. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun and her brown eyes moved from Julia to Sam.

Julia stood to meet Emilie Balanescu. The air around the woman smelled like frosting and cinnamon.

“Emilie, my name is Julia McKinley,” she said.

The other woman tilted her head.

“I need your help,” she took another careful step toward the spirit. “A demon has taken my father. A demon named Trich-”

Emilie snarled. “Monster!”

Julia jumped back. “Yes, he's a monster, and I'm sorry for what happened to you but I need to know what kind of curse you put on Trich's associate. My father's life depends on it.”

My
life depends on it, she added in her thoughts.

“You wish to help the demon?” Emilie said.

“No, I wish to save my father.”

Emilie looked her over and held out her closed fist. “Then let me show you what happened,” she opened her hand to reveal a pile of gray ash. “Give me your hand.”

Julia glanced at Sam, now propped up on his elbows. He gave her a quick nod. She turned back to Emilie and offered the woman her open palm. Emilie poured the ash into Julia's hand. It was still warm.

“Close your eyes and open your mind,” Emilie said, enclosing the ash in Julia’s hand.

Julia followed the instructions as Emilie began to speak in Romani. Soon, the words faded into English.

“Listen to me, gypsy!” Trich's angry voice broke through the darkness. “I will make your life a living hell if you don't give me the money you owe me.”

An image played behind her closed eyes. She saw Trich, his fedora and his black-red eyes. He stood with Emilie in a large kitchen. Julia caught the familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar.

Trich grabbed Emile's arm. “Don't you remember who made this all possible? I can take it away just like that,” he snapped his finger and a burst of fire appeared between his thumb and middle finger.

Emilie responded by spitting at Trich's sneer. She swore at him in her native language.

Trich removed a white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and wiped the saliva from his chin. “So, this is how you choose to repay me.”

Julia watched the scene enfold like a horror movie; her stomach turned, even though she already knew the ending.

Trich wrapped his hands around Emilie's neck. She gasped and flailed, knocking the fedora from his head to reveal the uneven blond patches of hair. She grabbed a handful and pulled. He groaned and slapped her. “You bitch!”

With a bloody lip, Emilie raised the strands in her hand and started to chant in Romani. She grinned with each word.

“You won't be smiling for long.” Trich flicked his wrist and the bottom of Emilie's dress caught fire.

Emilie clung to Trich's hair and lifted it over her head as the fire consumed her.

Everything around Julia burned.

She forced her eyes open, thankful to leave that horrible image. Shaking, she stared at Emilie's somber spirit. “I'm so sorry.” The words came out in a hollow whisper.

“Now you know the truth,” Emilie said.

She stepped to the side so she could see both Emilie and Sam. “Trich was the one who killed Emilie and set fire to her store.”

Sam winced as he sat up, shaking his head. “That bastard.”

Emilie pointed to Julia's hand. “Look inside.”

She uncoiled her fist clutching the ash and gently picked out a blond lock of hair. She held it up into the light. It was such a small thing but it was the key to saving her father.

“I will help you Julia,” Emilie said. “But you must also help me find vengeance,” she glided across the floor until she stood inches from her and raised her hand, palm open. “I will give you all the power you need to stop Trich, so he will never harm another human or También again.”

“You want to use me as a vessel,” Julia said.

To bond with another form of magic was forbidden. If that happened, her connection with her book would be broken. She would no longer be a librarian.

“Jules.” Sam's weak voice spoke up. “Think about it. Think about what you would be losing.”

She looked at her book, flung to the floor after the warding spell attacked Sam. The infinity symbol called to her. Forever. Her bond was supposed to be forever.

So was her bond with her father. That was what she didn't want to lose.

Julia lifted her hand to meet Emilie's. Once their palms connected, Emilie stepped forward, dissolving into her. A rush of warm air coated her from the inside out. Her vision blurred like she was underwater. Her ears popped and her stomach lurched. She had to blink several times before her vision cleared. When it did, Sam was on his feet, one hand on the back of the couch to keep him steady, the other raised in case something had gone wrong.

“Sam.” It was her voice, but the name rolled heavy off her tongue.

You trust him.
It wasn't a question from Emilie, more like an observation.

I do,
she answered.

Julia held out her hand for Sam. He hesitated, but then grabbed it. Relief broke out on his face when he realized she was still with him. “Jules,” he pulled her into a tight hold. She buried her face into his chest, comforted with his presence. Then, she turned her head to check her wall clock. 11:30. Sam tensed too, when he followed her gaze.

She held up the lock of hair again. It was time to meet Trich.

 

*   *   *

 

Without the ability to use her book, Julia could only depend on the dead gypsy woman inhabiting her body and an injured librarian, as she met Trich at Stockland Beach. Standing in the empty parking lot in front of her Honda, Julia listened to the ocean waves roar as they tumbled to shore. She took a deep breath of fresh air, her lungs expanded and exhaled with a grateful sigh. For some reason she couldn't explain, she felt centered and at peace. Perhaps this was Emilie's spirit, knowing she would soon be able to confront the monster who killed her or the fact this would be over soon and Julia would be with her father.

Sam joined her at the hood of her car. He didn't say anything as he interlaced their fingers.

She kept her gaze straight ahead to the dark beach. “Whatever happens Sam, just—just let it happen.”

He responded with silence.

A pair of headlights washed over them and a red convertible pulled up in front of her Honda. The driver—one of the guards with bullhorns on the sides of his head—stepped out and shot them a menacing look. From the backseat, Trich exited with another guard, this one holding her father. Her eyes narrowed when she saw her father’s bruised face.

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