Gypsy Magic - J.R. Rain Page 0,68
I can feel him.”
The wind continued to swirl, seething like a gaseous whirlpool in the air.
“Poppy, give me the Gris Gris Oil,” Bailey said. “Please.”
Bailey could channel Danny without any oils, but the Gris Gris Oil would give her a boost. Ordinarily, it took her twenty minutes to a half hour of dedicated energy and focus to summon someone from the ether. Less if the spirit was earthbound, but only by a small margin. Gris Gris Oil was an old Voudoun recipe for all-purpose power, and it would cut that twenty minutes down to ten. You were meant to use it in any situation where added energy was needed. With a spirit this violent and strong, the Gris Gris Oil was definitely needed.
Bailey knelt and began unloading a series of trick candles, arranging them in a circle around her. The trick candles were necessary for ghosts like Danny, who tried to sabotage the ritual by blowing them out. Most spirits wanted to be heard, but just a few were stubborn.
“Go,” she said, waving us on impatiently. “I’ll join you inside when I’ve been able to lasso him.”
Marty tried the knob again and, sure enough, the door swung open. Henner was quick behind him and started setting up his equipment, returning to the Mazda to get the rest of it. When he was all done, Henner closed the front door behind him and then flicked on a flashlight, sweeping it over the house as he, apparently, searched for a light switch.
In the light of the flashlight, I could see that most of the furniture had been pulverized in the short time since we’d last been here. The TV had crashed to the floor, the carpet was yanked free, and the hardwood beneath looked like a cat’s scratching post.
“Um, boss,” Henner said mildly. “I’m pretty sure a ghost can’t do this.”
“We’ve seen them interact with objects before,” Marty responded, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“But a ghost’s ectoplasm can only mimic the body it had in life, right?” Henner asked. “And, by the way, the light switch didn’t work.”
“Big surprise,” I muttered. “And to answer your question: ghosts can only mimic the body they once had… for the most part.”
“Did Danny Clemmons have claws?” Henner asked.
Marty followed the line of Henner’s finger and I heard him swallow audibly. Like me, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the space for very long. The gouges were inches deep through hardwood. What sort of creature was big enough to make them? A mountain lion? A bear? Something bigger?
The shadow creature in your nightmares?
The monster that killed Danny, had claws, I reminded myself.
“The monster in my nightmare,” I started as I pointed at the claw marks.
“You know what,” Marty began breathlessly. “That monster idea doesn’t seem quite as implausible...”
And that was when I felt something—the presence of someone else. I turned my head at the exact moment that the front door snapped open and blew a freezing wind into the house. Just as quickly, it slammed shut, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when the wind extinguished Henner’s flashlight. My nails bit crescents into Marty’s forearm. He sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t shake me off.
“Bailey?” I whispered.
“You shouldn’t be here,” a female voice hissed in response.
The only trickle of illumination came from the moonlight streaming through the windows, and even then, the rays were wavering and weak. It took precious seconds to get my bearings. And in those seconds, I heard an ominous click of a hammer being drawn back.
Henner must have fixed his flashlight, because a flood of bright light washed across the room, illuminating the figure that was crouched next to the door, waiting with a gun.
Barbra still looked drawn and defeated, but her arm didn’t shake as she pointed the revolver at Marty’s chest.
“You should have left well enough alone.”
Chapter Twenty
The air itself seemed to quiver with fear, but none of us moved. I couldn’t have drawn in enough breath to scream if I’d tried. My eyes just kept making a circuit from the revolver clutched in Barbra’s hand up to her grimly determined face.
And that was when I remembered I’d anointed myself with Fiery Command Oil. This potion was designed to help influence others—if your own will was strong enough. And right now, I needed to influence Barbra—to drop the gun. But, I also had to be careful, because whatever power I wielded over Barbra, was power that was sucked out of myself. You could