Page 64 of Air Of Mystery
She took ahold of my arm before I could leave. “Think.Think,Skye, before you go charging in there. Think about what happened to Tyler and Kenna—”
“Kenna did her job,” I said, cutting her off. “Now it’s time for me to do mine.”
“Well, if I can’t talk you out of it…then at least—” Gabriella gave me a quick hug. “Oh, be careful, damn it.”
“Always,” I told her, and hurried out to my car.
As I jogged across the parking lot the wind swirled around me. With a shrieking sort of whistle it blew from the north, sending my hair into my eyes and blinding me for a moment.
“North wind. Banishing energy,” I said, acknowledging the message from the element. “I’m on my way to go do just that. I’ll get rid of the thing, whatever it is. Once and for all.”
The wind blew again more gently this time as if in answer and it made me smile. “I appreciate the support.”
The wind settled as I tossed my luggage in the back seat and hopped in my car.
Racing back to the hill, I threw my car in park in our driveway but left the engine running. I hurried inside only to discover that no one else was at home. “Figures,” I said as I hauled my luggage and laptop case into the foyer and dropped it off. “House full of Witches yet never anyone around when you need them.”
Then I stopped wasting my breath grousing and bolted up the main staircase to my attic apartment.
I rushed into my apartment and immediately toed off my sneakers. Going to my closet, I grabbed a pair of cargo pants and began to change out of my nice jeans. After hiking the sturdy pants up, I added a belt and went to the trunk at the foot of my bed where I stored my magickal suppliesanda few weapons.
I tucked into my pockets bottles of a mixture of black salt, angelica and nightshade. I also added my taser in its leather sheath, threading it through my belt.
I’d started carrying one at more remote or secluded investigations after I’d been jumped by a strung out, homeless person a few years prior. The taser for me would always be a last resort, especially as I wasn’t one hundred percent sure this wasn’t a human with severe psychological problems. Unfortunately, my intuition told me I would be walking into real danger—the preternatural kind.
“Too bad I don’t have any wooden stakes.” I shook my head over that. “Then again. I’m not sure that would actually work.”
I couldn’t base my protection going up against a preternatural creature on urban legend and the work of an old Irish novelist. I needed something with muscle, and so I pulled from the trunk my expandable baton. Compact, durable and efficient, it was tactical gear that I could clip onto my belt as well. In seconds, with a snap of my wrist I would be able to defend myself.
After loading up I grabbed my miniature GoPro camera and laced up my heaviest boots. Once I was dressed, I let myself out the fire escape. I went down the metal, spiral stairs and started for my car.
In contrast to what I was about to take on, it was a beautiful day. The temperatures were in the 50s, the leaves were putting on a great show of autumn colors, and a light breeze sent a few fallen leaves past me as I hurried to my car.
I made it across town to the Middleton historic district in under fifteen minutes. Parking my car a few houses down the street from the Thompsons, I let myself out and locked the car. I’d barely had time to pocket my keys before my cell phone rang. It was Corrine letting me know that she hadn’t seen any movement across the street since we’d spoken. Thanking her,I gave her a wave towards where she stood inside her house peering out her front window and disconnected the call. Then I switched my phone over to silent.
Taking a deep breath, I clipped my camera to my shirt and hit record. It was small enough that most folks wouldn’t even realize what it was. But my instincts were screaming that I should document this...not for my show, but because I might need proof of this later.
Taking a deep breath, I psyched myself up and started across the street. I made it about two steps before a bright yellow scooter whipped right up beside me, causing me to jump back out of the way.
The rider pulled their helmet off and scowled at me. “You freaking idiot!”
“Sunny?” I was shocked at her arrival. “What the hell?”
“You’re damn lucky I’ve been staying tuned in.” She tucked her helmet under one arm. “I’ve been having nothing but the most horrible Dracula-inspired nightmares about this house ever since I was here.” She poked me in the shoulder. “And you—you’ve played a starring role in all of them.”
“Meaning?”
“It was a warning! My subconscious’ way of giving me a heads up that you were gonna get hurt doing something stupid like trying to face this thing down on your own.”
“Things have escalated,” I tried to explain, walking back to the curb as she pulled the scooter to the side of the street and parked it behind my car. “Someone needs help, maybe rescuing.”
Sunny secured her helmet to the back of the scooter. “Well, you’re not going in there alone, Skye! You just got yourself a wingman.”
“Sunny,” I said, trying to be reasonable. “You are a dog groomer.”
“And I’m a Witchanda psychic!” she shot back.
“Regardless, you’re not prepared for this type of—”
