Red Witch: Book Two of the Wizard Born Series (27 page)

Cassandra and Rita laughed and Fred measured out the brown, brittle flakes and ground them as she’d done before.
I feel something
. The clearer she made her mind, the stronger the feeling.
I wonder if this is what happens with Jamie. Wish he could see me now.
The feeling vanished and she had to start over.

“Stay focused,” Rita said. “Finish the spell, Fred.”

Fred gave her head a quick shake to clear it and looked back at the book. She measured and ground out each of the other ingredients, mixing them as she went, and as she worked, she felt her confidence grow, and a sense of…
connection. It’s like there are little strands of me passing through the ingredients.
The strands glowed in her mind like threads dipped in phosphorescent powder.

The women watched quietly while Fred worked, with only the occasional nod and a few pops of Cassandra’s gum to remind Fred that they weren’t wax statues.
I’m doing it
, Fred thought, exhilarated.
I’m doing magic. The magic is within me and…around me. I don’t call it up — it’s always there,
she realized
. It always has been, I just didn’t see it.
She sensed larger connections with the world around her, through her and into the floor and walls, out into the sky and down into the heart of the Earth.
I get it. We’re all part of the world, the…everything…and I’m just manipulating a piece of it.
She stopped momentarily, savoring the thrilling experience, eyes closed.

Before she knew it, she was blinking at a ceramic bowl full of finely ground powder.

“Give it a good stir, and you’re done, Fred,” Cassandra said.

“Oh.” Fred looked at the two witches. “Good. Now what?”

“We test it.” Before Fred could react, Cassandra reached over the table and dug one long sharp nail into the soft flesh of Fred’s calf, scraping a deep gouge.

“Ow!” Fred yelped. “What was that for?” She looked at her leg in shock as blood welled in the wound. “That hurt!”

Rita handed her a paper towel. “Quick. Blot it.”

“Huh? Okay.” She pressed it into her leg.

Cassandra gestured at the bowl. “Now take the paper towel off and put a pinch of the powder on the scrape real quick.”

Fred did, grabbing some of the gray mixture from the bowl and sprinkling it over the wound, which was beginning to bleed again. She held her breath as she watched to see what would happen. Within seconds, the pain subsided. Fred gave a quick smile and a nod. “It quit hurting.”

“Good,” Cassandra said. “Keep watching.

Fred observed in wonder as the bleeding stopped and a light scab formed. Moments later, it began to heal, right before her eyes.
It’s like time lapse photography. It’s all sped up.
Less than two minutes later, new pink skin had completely covered the wound. “Hah!” Fred looked up at the women and then back at her leg. “It worked! It did, didn’t it?”

“It sure did,” Cassandra said, reaching for the bowl. She pulled a large jar of petroleum jelly from the box, took off the lid and dumped the powder in it, and began stirring it with a Popsicle stick.

“Why are you doing that?” Fred asked.

“I like to mix it in this stuff ’cause it’s easy to apply that way.” She finished and held up the jar, beaming. “We can sell this tonight at the Screw. Good job, Fred.”

“Sell it? Really? How much for?”

“I’ll probably split this in half and put it in a couple of nice little jars.” Cassandra looked at Rita. “What do you think? Forty bucks each?”

“Forty-five,” Rita answered. “That’s good stuff. Did you see how fast it worked?” She clapped her hands and started putting the ingredients back in the box. “Maybe fifty. People will pay big bucks for a quality healing potion.”

“I made a healing potion,” Fred said, a little surprised at herself.

“Yes you did,” Cassandra said, helping Rita pack up.

“Can I make something else?”

They put the box on top of the table and Rita picked up one end while Cassandra picked up the other. Rita said, “Tomorrow. You can try making DUI powder.” They walked toward the door. “We can sell it at the Screw. It’s usually packed on Friday night.”

“What’s it do?”

“Makes it so you’re not DUI anymore.” Rita chuckled and let go of the table with one hand, closing the door behind them as they left.

And Fred was alone again, staring at the wall.
I did it! I did real magic
. She was so excited, she wanted to leap from the bed and dance for joy around the room. But as soon as she moved her left leg, the clanking of the chain reminded her of her imprisonment.

Oh well, she thought soberly, eyeing the metal cuff around her ankle.
Back down to Earth, Fred.

Chapter 26

Carl woke with a start when his elbow slipped off the edge of the desk.
Dang, fell asleep with my head in my hand again.
He rubbed his eyes and stretched, one shoulder popping audibly as he pushed his hands toward the ceiling.
The Callahan’s couch is killing my back. I’d love to sleep in my own bed tonight.

But he wouldn’t. Someone had to be at Larry and Lisa’s to mind the equipment in case the kidnappers called.
If they don’t call soon, we’re gonna have to assume the worst.

He glanced at his watch
. Almost time for the NCBI’s search to start. I think I’ll see if they’ll let me help.
An image of someone uncovering a body in a ravine filled his mind.
I couldn’t bear it.
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard
. Not Fred. Got to find her.

He scanned the list of phone numbers on the desk beside him.
Maybe I’ll call the Highway patrol again. See if they’ve got anything yet.

* * *

I’m starving,
Fred thought as she paced back and forth next to her bed, the chain clanking behind her like a metal tail.
It’s way past dark, and all I’ve had to eat all day was those doughnuts.
Her stomach growled painfully as a reminder. She stopped pacing when she heard footsteps in the hall.

Cassandra entered carrying the folding TV table and a microwave dinner, a cigarette dangling from her viciously red lips. “Hungry?” she asked.

“Starved,” Fred said and sat on the edge of the bed, waving her hand in front of her face.

Cassandra set the table up beside Fred and put the dinner on it, walked to the window and opened it. She flicked the cigarette out of the window as Fred peeled back the cardboard cover and said. “Well, this looks edible.”

“It’s stew. I eat it all the time.” Cassandra closed the window.

Fred looked up. “Anything to drink? I’m parched.”

“I got something.” Cassandra vanished into the hall and reappeared moments later with two large plastic bottles of water. “I got a bunch of these at the store today. Thought I’d leave some in here so you can have something to drink anytime you want, or wash up or brush your teeth or anything.”

“I still don’t have a toothbrush.”

Cassandra snapped her fingers. “Damn! Knew I was forgetting something.” She left again and returned with a small paper bag which she set on the washstand. “There’s a toothbrush and some toothpaste. A couple razors, too.” She exhaled heavily. “I need a break.” She plopped down next to Fred. “Sorry it took so long to get your food, but I’m on a different schedule from you, I think. I’m on witch’s hours. You’re probably still on high school hours.”

Fred swallowed a bite of stew. “Early to bed and early to rise.”

“I guess you have a family routine and everything, huh?”

Fred shrugged and took another bite.

“So, do you have a mom and dad and sisters and brothers and stuff?”

“Just my mom and dad. No siblings.” Fred opened the jug of water and raised it to her mouth.

“What?”

“No brothers and sisters.”

Cassandra’s expression grew wistful. “Never had much of a family life. What’s it like? Is it nice?”

Fred swallowed a gulp of water and replaced the cap on the jug. “I guess. I’m used to it. You didn’t have a family?”

“Never knew my dad, and my older brother ran away when I was six. It was just me and my mom, and she was hardly ever home. She was either working or off with one of her boyfriends. I dropped out of school when I was fifteen and ran away.”

“You’re kidding. How’d you survive?”

“Turning tricks, mostly.”

It was Fred’s turn to stare blankly.

“I was a prostitute.” She chuckled. “At least ’till I met Mike, my boyfriend. Then I started dealing drugs with him.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t end up in jail.”

“Or dead, like Mike.”

“Oh.” Fred put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Cassandra gave a little shrug and looked at the far wall. “It’s okay. I was long gone by the time he died. He OD’ed, I heard.”

“What?”

“Overdosed.” She pantomimed injecting a syringe in her arm.

“Oh my God! That’s awful.”

“I’d probably be in the same boat if Isabelle and Rita hadn’t rescued me. That’s how I ended up here. You see, Izzy started this witches’ triad, and she found Rita first. Then they did a scryin’ and found me, and they came to Mobile and dragged me off, kinda like we did to you.”

“Did they chain you to a bed?” Fred raised her foot and rattled the chain at her ankle.

“No. They were living in a different place then. They locked me in a room for a few days ’till I calmed down. It didn’t help that I was having serious withdrawal symptoms from not getting’ my fix.” She shuddered. “Boy,
that
was hard. But Izzy and Rita got me through it and talked me into doin’ the blood bond, and I been here ever since.” She put her hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Which is what you’ll end up doin’, I’m sure. Trust me. I know ’cause I been through it.”

Cassandra picked at the sleeve on Fred’s dress and furrowed her brow. “You know, I think it’s time to get you into a change of clothes.” She stood and walked toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returned, she had some dresses draped over one arm and a pale blue nightshirt in the other, which she held up for Fred to see. “Thought you might want something to sleep in.” She hung it on a hook on the wall by the nightstand, then handed Fred a faded black shift. “Try that.”

Fred stood and held it up to her body. “I think it’ll fit. Was Izzy my size?”

“Used to be.” She showed Fred the other outfit, a gray peasant dress. “She gained a bunch of weight right before she died. Probably from drinkin’ so much.”

“This looks okay,” Fred said, holding the dress at arms’ length as she inspected it. “I wouldn’t want to go on a date in it or anything.”

Cassandra snorted a laugh and laid the two dresses on the end of the bed. “Me either. I like to dress up when I go out.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“A few.” She batted her fake eyelashes and laughed. “I like to keep ’em guessin’ as to whether or not they are.” She surveyed the room. “So you’re good here. Got your dinner and some music and clean clothes.”

“Cassandra.” Fred put her plastic fork down. “I get really hungry in the morning. Is there something you can leave for me that I can eat when I wake up?”

Cassandra snapped her fingers again. “Pop Tarts. Left ’em in the kitchen.” She hurried away and returned with the box of pastries. “Got these when I bought the water.” She set them beside the boom box on the bedside table. “Now, anything else before I go? My TV show comes on now.” She stood and rubbed her hands together.

“Well, there is one small thing.” Fred bit her lip as Cassandra paused. “Could you please, please,
pretty please
call my parents and let them know I’m okay? You don’t have to tell them where I am; just let them know I’m still alive.”

Cassandra’s eyes grew hard as she regarded Fred, her jaw tight. Finally, she said, “No. Not until you do the blood bond.” She turned and left.

Fred watched the door close behind Cassandra.
She’s just as bad as Rita. She acts like she’s my friend, but she’s not. It’s all fake. They’re playing good cop – bad cop, and they think I don’t know it. Well, I can act, too. I’ll play along until I figure out how to get out of here.

And there’s no way I’m doing the blood bond with the likes of them.

* * *

Fred lay in the darkness, listening to the two women’s voices drift through her partially open door.
They think I’m asleep. Who could sleep through that racket? They both sound drunk.

Rita had just gotten back from the Rusty Screw and was relating the events of her evening. “I sold both jars, just like that.” Fred heard what sounded like a hand slapping on a table. “Soon as I walked in,” Rita continued, “Alphonse cut his finger real bad tryin’ to slice a lemon. So I whipped out a jar of the stuff Fred made and put a little dab on his finger, and it completely healed up right there in front of everybody at the bar, quick as lightnin’. Shoulda’ seen the looks on their faces.” She chuckled. “Alphonse bought that jar on the spot. He whipped fifty bucks out of the cash drawer before you could say abracadabra.”

“What about the other jar?” Cassandra said.

“I pulled it out of my purse, and they started a bidding war for it. Hah! That’s never happened before. I sold it for a hundred and ten bucks. A hundred and ten!”

“Whoo!” Cassandra said. “We need to get Fred to make some more tomorrow.”

“You bet. Some DUI powder, too.” Fred heard what could’ve been a chair scraping across the wooden floor, and Rita continued, “You have any luck talkin’ her into doin’ the blood bond?”

“Not yet, but I think she will soon. She thinks I’m her good buddy, now.”

Rita laughed again, harsh and ugly. “Well, don’t matter. She can stay chained up in that bedroom forever, as long as she helps make potions. She’s a strong one, I can tell. I bet all the spells she makes will be good. She can be our little witch slave, workin’ away back there.”

“Well, you gotta help out more, Rita. I’m getting’ tired a’ cleanin’ up after her. You haven’t dumped her chamber pot once.”

“Get her to do it.”

“How?”

“Put the Compliance Bracelet on her and unchain her. Then she can take it in the bathroom herself.”