Page 59 of No Surrender
“I sent her an email before I got in the shower. I don’t know when—”
An insistent knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Simon had a good idea who he’d find on the porch. Miss Eppie stood with her fists on her hips, glaring at Simon like he was an errant schoolboy.
“Miss Eppie, please, come in—”
“Sebastian Simon Kincaide! Have you taken leave of your senses? You want me to help you trap a boo hag after you sic it on your boyfriend? Child, whathaveyou been drinking?”
Miss Eppie—Ephigenia Walker—was one of the most powerful hoodoo practitioners and root women in the Carolinas. Her jewel-toned, flowing top complemented her dark skin and made her look younger than her age, which Simon guessed to be in her seventies. Under her piercing gaze, Simon felt like he’d been caught red-handed and hauled to the principal’s office.
“Miss Eppie,” Vic said in greeting, coming out to join them. “Can I get you some sweet tea?”
Eppie looked from one man to the other and then gave a curt nod. “Thank you—but don’t think it gets you off the hook.”
Simon led them into the living room, where Eppie settled into a recliner across from where they sat on the couch. “Now, how about you start at the beginning,” she ordered, perching like a queen in her chair. “And you best make it mighty darn good.”
He swallowed hard and took a sip of tea before telling Eppie what they knew about the boo hag and how he and Travis had narrowed the possibilities. Halfway through his story, she finished her tea and set the glass aside, then crossed her arms and cocked her head with a look that told him he hadn’t completely won her support.
“—and that’s how Travis and I came up with the plan,” Simon finished.
For a couple of excruciating minutes, Miss Eppie sat in silence, staring at him with a glare that could punch a hole through steel. Finally, she cleared her throat and uncrossed her arms.
“Huh. It’s dangerous as all get out. But I don’t see how you have any other choices,” Eppie said, giving her grudging approval. “You and Travis know your lore. I know boo hags. And Vic, God love you, but you might be too brave for your own good.”
“Thanks—I think?” Vic replied.
Eppie slapped her knees. “Alright then. Might as well get this over with. Any reason we can’t do this at midnight tonight? I need to gather some things and make a witch ball. Simon—have plenty of iron and salt ready and your shotgun.” She looked at Vic and grinned. “You’ve got the easy part. All you have to do is look pretty and fall asleep.”
She stood and looked from one man to the other. “Simon—text me the address of the motel and the room number, and I’ll meet you there at eleven-thirty. The veil is thinner at midnight, so we’ll want everything set up by then—and make sure Vic is asleep.”
Eppie bustled back to her car, all the while calling over her shoulder to remind them of important details. When she pulled out of the driveway, Simon felt like they had been in the path of a whirlwind. Her psychic energy was as formidable as her abilities and as fierce as her heart. Simon felt lucky that he and Vic were among the few she “adopted” as her family of the soul.
“Is she always like that?”
Simon knew that Vic had fewer interactions with the root woman and less familiarity with her strong personality. He’d clearly been taken aback by Miss Eppie’s forcefulness, which Simon had come to see as colorful.
“Yes—unless she’s upset, and then you’d better get out of her way,” Simon replied.
Vic opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang, a tone Simon didn’t recognize.
“Sheila?” Vic frowned. Simon felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle because getting a call from Ross’s wife couldn’t be a good thing. “I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Vic—there’s been an accident. Ross came home for lunch, and he slipped and fell. He hit his head—I’m at the hospital. He’s got a concussion. And I think it’s my fault for opening the mail.”
Simon and Vic exchanged a look.
“Mail?” Simon had a bad feeling that he already knew the answer.
“I swear I thought it was safe,” Sheila said. “Ross told me to watch out for anything strange in the mail. But it came in a brown envelope like everything we order online, and so I never suspected—I just took it out of the package and set it on the table. Figured Ross had been buying some fancy grill tools again.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Vic soothed. “Slow down, Sheila. How about we meet you at the hospital?”
“Okay,” she said, sounding relieved. She gave Vic the room number and promised to leave word at the desk to let them up.
“Looks like it’s going to be a busy day,” Simon observed. “I hope Ross is okay.”
“Sounds like Judd got ahead of us, dammit,” Vic muttered. “Ross is a sucker for grill toys, and if the envelope looked like it had been shipped from a familiar company, Sheila couldn’t have known.”
The drive to the hospital took only a few minutes. Vic checked in at the desk and was directed upstairs. They found Sheila sitting outside the nurses’ station. She rose to hug them both.
