Page 91 of Light As A Feather
“Well, for one thing, he’s not going to have a choice.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hawthorne,” Mendez sighs, tired of my shit. “Why do I feel like you’re about to do something dangerous, and worse, reckless?”
“Look, you don’t want to know the details. You’re going to keep your hands clean, and I’m going to handle this.” I already decided that I would be the only one putting their neck on the line like this. It’s not just illegal. There are so many things that can go wrong. Personally, I don’t give a fuck. I’m getting my girlback. But I’m not letting my friends get more tangled up in this mess than they already are.
Besides, it’s always been about him versus me. Ivan’s problem is that he underestimated just how far I’d go for Sol. He’s about to find out.
I can’t fight the smile that sneaks into my expression, and Ozzie immediately clocks it.
“I don’t like that look, man. Please just tell me what you have planned. Let me help you keep your ass out of trouble.”
“Nope,” I say firmly, turning my back to them as I make for the door. “When it’s done, you’ll hear from me. Until then, keep your distance.” Stopping with my hand on the doorknob, I turn back. “I mean it. You’ve been there for me in more ways than I can say, I need to do this on my own. This asshole has hurt the people I love for the last time.” Pulling him in for a quick hug and shake, I attempt to reassure him. “Just trust me.”
“I swear to god, you better be careful,” Mendez calls after me as I run down the drive back to my car.
I don’t make promises I can’t keep, so I give him a silent wave.
Back on the freeway, I continue north, eager to pay a visit to my favorite witch.
I don’t make it a habit to reopen cases, especially ones that are years old, but technically, this one never really closed. Pulling into the familiar suburban neighborhood, I park a few homes down from the green house that belongs to the Murphy family.
I was originally called here by the parents whose daughter had passed tragically. Rightfully, they suspected her spirit might be lingering…she was. But in a rare turn of events, Becca had actually found peace in the afterlife.
Theirs was the first case I’d taken—at least back then—where I’d found ghosts who were happier dead than alive. Where they’d managed to find love and a new beginning after being freed from the burdens of life as we know it.
It gave me hope. Because of that, they stuck with me. I couldn’t resist the urge to check in on them, make sure they really did get their happily ever after. One trip turned into two, turned into ten, and now we’re at the point that I’d consider them friends. It’s unconventional, but what exactly is normal for someone who’s ghost-touched? What better use of my ability to reach across the veil?
I’ll admit having to sneak onto the Murphys’ property makes me feel a little guilty. You’d think I’d be over it, given all the times I’ve done it by now, but it never gets easier. I do respect Becca’s wishes, though. I can’t say what I’d do in her place, but I do know that I’m grateful this will never be something I have to worry about. Sol and I are set to live out our afterlives in carefree privacy—having the funds and the freedom to do whatever I want with it is an advantage I’ll never take for granted.
Knocking on the back window of the casita, I wait for one of them to notice me. Stasi signals for me to go to the front door.
“Hey?” Becca says it like it’s a question.
“Hey.” I step into the small space. “How are you two doing?”
“We’re fine. Just, you know, the usual.” She laughs, nervously tucking her long brown hair behind her ear.
It’s been a while since I’ve come by, but she looks happy. It’s always a relief to know that sometimes, these things work out.
“Good, good.” I buy myself a second to gather my thoughts. “Look, I know I said I wasn’t coming until next month, but Iactually need your help. Witchy shit, to be specific.” I turn my attention to Stasi.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t ‘Mr. You Can’t Solve All Your Problems With Witchcraft,’” she says, a smug tease that makes me shake my head. Am I her favorite person? Doubtful. I’d bet the only person she’s ever truly liked is Becca, but we’ve established a friendly back-and-forth that I can appreciate. Honestly, I’m just grateful that I don’t see mistrust in her eyes anymore.
To be fair, I wasn’t exactly at my best when I met them, still reeling from my loss, burying myself in work–a bit begrudgingly at that. Trying to figure out who I was without Sol. But we’ve all come a long way since then.
“And I stand by it,” I point out. “I have a very unique problem that may or may not require your expertise. Which is why I’m here. To be frank, I’m desperate.”
“Wow, really sell me on it,” Stasi quips, taking a seat on the couch. “By the way, even the most basic summoning is absolutely witchcraft.” She’s got me there, and she knows it. “But I’ll bite, what wisdom may I bestow upon you?” Becca sits next to her, taking Stasi’s hand.
“Do you happen to know anything about binding spells?”
“I mean, yeah. But in what context? Binding spells are pretty broad.” Stasi leans forward, her interest piqued.
Licking my lips, I hesitate, trying to figure out the best way to phrase my request, but I don’t think there’s any way to make it sound better than it is. “I need to bind a soul to an object.”
“Damn, brutal.” Stasi coughs out a laugh of surprise. “Hawthorne, you naughty little minx. What are you up to?” She’s the cat with the canary, eyes brightening, her smile genuine.
“I won’t bother bullshitting you. I need to get rid of someone who’s hurt Sol.”
