Page 65 of Haunted By the Shadow of Death

“I don’t know if I can help you, but I can try,” the woman finally said. “Come in.”

The entire way to the place, I’d expected Death to appear, threatening me or doing something to stop me. At the very least, hovering menacingly. None of that had happened. As we walked closer to this woman, I expected something to stop me, but nothing did.

“I need to test you,” she said as we walked in. Her small place was filled with counters and shelves lined with jars. Drying plants hung from the ceiling.

“Okay,” I said.

“Test her how?” Kicks asked at the same time.

“I can sense something unusual about her energy, but I don’t know what it is or where it stems from. I need to know the origin in order to fix it.” She pointed to the center of the room. “Stand here.”

She walked over to a bench loaded down with all sorts of jars and vines and began muddling several different items. She reached above to the ceiling, cutting away a clump of a dried plant, and then took the ingredients she’d been muddling and poured them over it. She turned back to me with a lit candle and her bunch of dried herbs, which she also lit.They flamed a strange red color before dying, smoldering with an almost silvery smoke that didn’t smell like smoke at all but like a field of flowers. She circled me, waving the smoke in my direction. Every time she tried to wave it closer, it seemed to be repelled .

She made a little noise somewhere between a grunt and a hum as she moved her smoking wad of whatever closer to me. It still didn’t seem to want to touch me, though.

“This is unusual.”

I remained silent, afraid to glance at Kicks, fearing one look might give away everything. If she had the entire situation laid out for her, she might run me out of her house.

“You say you’re being haunted. What exactly are you being bothered with? Is it spirits from your past?”

For the first time, it occurred to me this might not just block Death, but Widow Herbert and Jaysa. Losing Jaysa wasn’t worth fretting about, but I wished I’d had a chance to say goodbye to Widow Herbert. Although if I didn’t purge myself of Death’s presence, I’d never see her again anyway.

“Yes. People from my past who haven’t moved on.”

She made another humming/grunting sound.“I’ll mark you with a blocking protection spell. That should do it if that’s all that is amiss.” She stared at me, waiting for me to give some acknowledgement.

I nodded. That was as good as it was going to get, because if I opened my mouth, she’d hear the lie.

“It’ll cost.”

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Five years.”

“Five years of what?”

“His life,” she said, looking atKicks.

“No.”

“Done,” he said at the same time.

“No.” I stared at Kicks.

“Five years is nothing to me. It’s worth it,” he said.

“Fine.” I turned my gaze back to her. “But with a guarantee of success?”

“Deal,” she said. “I have to ink your skin. This won’t hurt much other than the feeling of prickling.” She lifted her hands and held them hovering over my body until she stopped behind me. “Here. It has to go here,” she said, tapping the middle of my back.

“Do it.”

She went back to one of the benches lining the room, gathering together her items. I could only imagine a prison tattoo setup would put her bowl and needle to shame. It didn’t matter, as I wasn’t looking for a piece of art but an act of magic.

“Take your shirt off,” she said.

I pulled it off, glad that the few bras I’d been alternating were the pretty ones Evangeline gave me. It was sort of a ridiculous thing to care about.

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