Something bugged me on the journey home from the supermarket. I don’t mean the idiocy of being glared at or talked about either. Or the way thinking of Victor makes me want see him naked. When I finally realize what it is, I slap the heel of my hand several times on my steering wheel, calling myself “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
Looking exasperatedly at a worried-looking Jasmine, I tell her, “I can’t believe I have been so stupid. How could I not have thought of this earlier? I mean it is so obvious, sometimes I really need to get my head out of my own ass.”
At my last comment, she starts snuffling away. “It’s not funny,” I scold gently trying not to laugh as well, as I get an image of myself walking around with my head stuck where the sun doesn’t shine and trying to remove it.
“Okay, maybe it is a little funny, but we must speak to Kheda as soon as possible. Surely the doctor or technician or whoever was in the lab can describe the person who destroyed all the blood samples. Why didn’t I think of this earlier?” I demand as I carry in the groceries.
****
Once inside I quickly put away the shopping and phone Kheda from my mobile. After the fifth time of his phone going to voice mail and my not leaving any message, I decide to leave it for a while before trying to ring him again. Instead, I phone Victor and tell him what I thought about the doctor being able to give a description. I let him know I will call him back when I hear from Kheda.
“Please do and thank you for keeping me updated as well, Candi. Take care of yourself, and I’ll speak to you soon.”
After I hang up, I stare at my phone for a couple of minutes, before putting it down with a mental shake. Catching Jasmine giving me a curious look, I laugh.
“His voice does things to me I haven’t felt in a long, long time, and that’s only his voice. Can you imagine if I actually had sex with him? Oh, I say, it would be quite amazing.” I answer my own question on a breathless sigh, as I feel my body react to the thought of him touching, kissing, licking, and finally…
My phone rings, snapping me out of my fantasy.
It’s Kheda ringing me back.
“Hello, Detective, thank you for ringing me back. The doctor or technician who was doing the DNA tests, did they describe who destroyed them? Even if he didn’t see the vandal’s face, they might be able to describe other things like weight, height...”
“He can’t describe anything.” With a growl of pure frustration and grief, Kheda continues, “He’s in a coma, and even if or when he comes out of it, the likelihood of him being able to describe anything is... His eyes and tongue were removed as well as his ears,” Kheda finally spat out. “So no, he won’t be able to describe anything he saw.”
“Oh, I am so sorry.” I gasp in shock. “See no evil, speak no evil, and hear no evil,” I whisper. “What did you say?” demands Kheda.
“Nothing…well…have you ever seen the no-evil dolls? There are three of them, each one covers their eyes, ears, or mouth so they cannot speak, see, or listen to evil actions. In this case the doctor has been prevented from hearing any questions, speaking about what happened, or seeing who did this to him.” I feel sick to my stomach at the implications.
“I have to go, Candi. I’ll talk to you soon.”
****
I stare at my phone, all I can see in my head are the no-evil dolls, with a shake of my head, I hang up, explain what Kheda said, and then phone Victor and relate everything to him. Hanging up my phone again, I decide to start making dinner, just to keep myself busy if for no other reason.
After preparing dinner, I put it in the oven and return to the sitting room, light a fire, and plop onto the sofa to watch something to take my mind off the murder.
As it turns out, The Phantom of the Opera is just starting. Jasmine curls up on the floor beside me and rests her head on my feet to watch the film. Soon I become enthralled in the story. Personally, I would jump his bones in a second. Who needs a pipsqueak like Raoul if you had the Phantom? Grandma Eve arrives home halfway through the film and quietly joins us on the sofa to watch the rest.
During the next break, I serve dinner for all of us. Grandma gives me a raised eyebrow, but says nothing when I give Jasmine her share of the meal, excluding the wine of course. There is no way in hell I would be able to explain giving a dog alcohol. It would be more likely to get me in some serious trouble with the RSPCA.
I sob my heart out at the end of the film. Feeling devastated for the Phantom as he is once again left on his own. His heart broken as Christine and Raoul leave him to start their new lives together. If I could climb into the TV, I would have taken the Phantom into my arms and taken him far away. What can I say? The bad guys are normally gorgeous. Thinking of the killer on the loose, and with a shudder I change that to film bad guys are normally gorgeous.
****
“Thank you, dear, for a wonderful dinner. I didn’t think you cooked, but you have proven quite wonderful at it,” states Eve with a contented smile.
“I can cook. I just don’t enjoy doing it and so prefer not to.” Smiling at my gran’s expression, I collect the dirty dishes and head into the kitchen so I can tidy up.
“Since you cooked I’ll wash up.”
With a shake of my head, I ignore my grandmother. I place the dirty dishes on the counter, rinse them, and fill the sink up with hot sudsy water.
I very efficiently even if I do say so myself wash, dry, and put them away, clean down the counters and cooker, before snagging the bottle of wine and returning to the sitting room where I find Grandma Eve snoring on the sofa.
I top up my glass and channel flick until I find an old film to watch. A western about four fallen women, who go on the run, hunted by a posse, and tracked by Pinkerton detectives. With a sideways look at Jasmine, I notice she has sat up straighter and her tongues hanging out in pure delight at the prospect of watching it again.
“A blast from the past, huh?” I laugh delighted as I curl up comfortably on the sofa again to relax and watch an old favorite.
We manage to watch the whole film before Eve wakes up. When she does, I’m surprised when she invites me along to the local pub, The Witches’ Brew.
“If you’re back to stay, Candi, you must begin socializing, and The Witches’ Brew is a good place to start. Now go and get yourself ready. It will do you a world of good and you never know, you might meet a nice man. You’re too nice to not be married, never mind single,” Eve informs me with a serious expression.
Hearing a snuffling sound behind me, I turn toward my laughing best friend and glare at her, too shocked to say anything to my grandma. I head upstairs for a shower and to drag some clean clothes on. I slap a little makeup on and return downstairs to wait.
Seeing Jasmine I give a quick spin and ask, “Do I look OK?”
To be honest it has been a very long time since I’ve gone out, and I’m not sure if I’m under-dressed or not. I’m wearing my favorite pair of black skinny jeans that hug my long legs. I’ve teamed it with a simple black lace top and my favorite stiletto ankle boots.
For jewelry, I’ve put on feathered earrings in black and emerald green and a silver watch. I also wear a simple silver belt, with silver and black eye-shadow on to give my eyes a wonderful smoky look, teal eyeliner to make them pop and apricot glamour lipstick.
A simple look, especially with my hair slicked back into a ponytail held up with silver scrunchy. A huge doggy grin and a large paw, as if to high five me, answers my question.
Returning her smile, I grab my coat, phone, and a small purse I plan to carry. Hearing my grandma descend the stairs, I go to meet her, and gasp with delight at her elegant transformation.
“Grandma, you look wonderful,” I exclaim in pleasure.
She’s wearing elegant, low-heeled red shoes with a simple strap, teamed with a black dress with poppies scattered across the bottom half. The top half is black with little capped sleeves and a red belt cinches her rather tiny waist.
She also has a simple red clutch bag secured under her armpit, red lipstick, and peachy eye shadow. Her hair is done up in an elegant twist secured with a red clip.
“You look beautiful as well, dear,” Eve replies as she looks at me in pleasure. “We shall have a lovely evening,” she declares as she collects a black wrap from the coat stand and heads outside. “Don’t forget your keys, dear.”
On this reminder, I quickly grab my keys, give Jasmine a quick hug, close the front door, and lock it behind us. We walk to the pub, which is a good twenty minutes’ walk away.
Upon reaching the pub, I notice people being scanned as they enter, their species flashing on a sign above them for everyone to see. This shocks and horrifies me. Especially when the witch in front of us enters. and the sign flashes her known association with other species.
I’d heard of these scanners, but never seen one. They are illegal, but since The Protectors own them and people fear them, they are able to get away with it. Some of the patrons avoid the witch, as if by distancing themselves from her they can save themselves.
I stop my grandmother from entering, gather some energy, and with a final prayer to my Goddess, I throw a magickal diffuser at the door, capturing the ward and dragging it screaming from the door. With a flick of my wrist, it explodes like beautiful fireworks. I enter the pub to shocked silence.
“How did you do it?” Eve asks me so quietly, I almost don’t hear her.
“I asked for help from our Goddess, Grandma Eve,” I reply as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Thinking it should have been obvious.\
“You must talk to her a lot for her to grant you so easily.”
“I talk to our Goddess almost every day, Grandma. Mainly to say hello and ask how she is,” I reply as I head toward the bar to get a drink. “What are you drinking?”
“A glass of Chardonnay, please, dear. I’ll grab us a table. I need to sit down.”
I’m surprised and concerned by Eve’s reaction to my speaking to Hecate. Did she not speak to her often? Looking at my grandmother, I become more concerned. Something is not right with her. Something has changed in the twelve years I have been gone. Hopefully nothing too drastic.
“What did you do to my wards, witch?” demands a small pale squidgy creature with slimy-looking skin. I notice he said “witch” as others might say “bitch.”
“Do you own this bar?” I ask as I try to figure out exactly what he is. Or at least I am guessing it’s male, but only because the voice seems slightly masculine. The body looks like a squat, blobby mass with stumps sticking out for arms and legs with a head on top. It’s wearing trousers and a jumper, so not helpful at all.
His skin tone is gray, and he has muddy brown watery eyes and no hair, eyebrows, or eyelashes. His nose is more like two slits for nostrils, yet his lips are large and puffy. He is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. “No, I don’t, but them be my wards, witch, and you, you...”
“Removed them,” I helpfully supply since he/she appeared at a loss for words.
“How? No one can remove my wards. They’re the best.”
“Well, if you say so, but you should know they are against the law, so I was only doing my civic duty by removing them. No need to thank me. I don’t mind helping, for obviously, a law-abiding citizen like your good self was about to take them down, weren’t you?” I innocently enquire, turning toward the barmaid I smile, and order my grandmother’s Chardonnay and my drink.
****
As the creature slithers away, I ask underneath my breath, of the barmaid, “What was that?”
“Mr. Vesper. He works for The Protectors. How did you destroy the ward?” she replies, looking slightly frazzled and a lot relieved.
“Why was it allowed to be put up? I’m Candi by the way.”
“I’m Nici, nice to meet you, and it wasn’t ‘allowed,’ it was just put up. No choice in the matter.” With a shake of her head, she passes over my drinks.
“How much do I owe you?”
“They are on the house, with major thanks.”
“No problem at all. Those kinds of wards shouldn’t be allowed, they’re too dangerous, also illegal. Thanks for the drinks, Nici.” I grab them and weave my way over toward my grandmother. Sitting down, I pass her a glass of wine.
After a rather large gulp, she seems much more herself, and I’m pleased to see some color returning to her pale cheeks. Taking a sip of my own drink, I savor the taste before swallowing, glancing around at the still speechless patrons.
“Is it always this quiet? I feel like I’m in a library.” And then as if a spell is broken, everyone starts talking at once, conversation returns, and I notice the witch who had been avoided previously, is now being talked to. Fear is a terrible, crazy thing, but fear with reason is so much worse.