In whispered tones, I hastily explained to Uncle Ben what was going on—at least as much as I knew. He wasn’t happy about it, but agreed to stay at the Honeybee with Iris. When she started to ask questions, he shushed her.
“I’ll tell you in a bit,” he said to her, as he looked to me with a question on his face.
“Yes,” I said. “If you’re going to work at the Honeybee, Iris, you should probably know the kinds of things we get up to around here on occasion. Will you call Peter Quinn, too?” I asked Ben. “Let him know where we are and why. And mention the words human sacrifice if he balks.”
Iris paled beneath her black, spiked hair.
“Sure thing, hon. How about Declan?” Ben asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t want a bunch of sirens and fire trucks and the like, and, knowing him, he’ll do whatever he can to save the day. At this point, we can’t even be sure there’s anything wrong.”
Sure, Katie.
Jaida and Bianca joined Lucy and me out on the sidewalk. Lucy said, “Ben dropped me off before getting groceries this morning. So we only have his little pickup.”
“No way we can all fit in that, unless we pile into the back,” Jaida said, smoothing her summer dress.
“Bianca, you have your Jag?” I asked.
She nodded. “I can pick up Mimsey.”
I hesitated. “Are you okay with whatever might happen at the warehouse? It might involve voodoo in a big way.”
Her nod was decisive. “Don’t worry. This is Cookie we’re talking about. Get going. Mimsey and I will be there soon.” She took off at a jog toward her sports car, and Jaida, Lucy, and I piled into the Bug with Mungo.
As I drove, I told them more details about Cookie breaking the hex on the gris gris the night before, and ended with, “She felt sure she was successful, but now I wonder if she didn’t also open herself up to discovery by whoever has the talisman.” I didn’t mention Declan opening himself to Connell in an attempt to reach through the veil to Franklin, but it seemed that Cookie’s spell breaking could easily have had the same effect.
I turned onto Old Louisville Road and pushed down on the accelerator.
“The warehouse is coming up on the right,” Lucy said, peering at the GPS on her smartphone.
I slowed, searching for the address. It was pretty obvious, though, when the warehouse came into view around a curve in the road. It was a behemoth of a building, squat and long and set back from the road by a large parking area covered with pockmarked asphalt. Six oversized, garage-style doors marched down the front of the olive green building, waiting for months now for the big trucks to back up and take away loads of lumber from inside. Steering into the entrance to the lot, I guided the little car around the potholes, toward the people door set into the front corner.
As we tumbled out of the Bug, Jaida asked, “Where’s Cookie’s car?”
Her words gave me a sense of hope. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was just a property listed by Quartermaine Realty, Sam was looking at it for her dot-com father, and Cookie had shown it and was now back at her office . . .
Lucy tried the metal door. “It’s locked.”
Eulora’s bracelet of protection warmed against my wrist.
Bianca zoomed into the parking lot, weaving the red Jaguar around the potholes much as I had—only four times faster. She braked to a halt in front of us, and a pale and shaking Mimsey exited from the passenger’s side. Swaying slightly, she righted the purple bow on her pageboy, took a deep breath, and reached back into the car. Heckle emerged, gripping her arm hard and looking a bit wobbly himself. The fact that he didn’t immediately deliver a rude greeting was enough to tell me he wasn’t used to Bianca’s driving, either.
“Heckle was with me at Vase Value, and wanted to come along,” Mimsey said.
“No explanation necessary,” I said as Mungo popped his head out of my bag
Bianca’s Puck flowed out of her light jacket to drape around her neck, peering at us all from the black Zorro mask that covered his otherwise pure-white face.
“Are you sure Cookie is here?” Bianca’s gaze flicked over the abandoned warehouse.
“Let’s check the back,” I said.
We trouped around the corner and along the side of the building. A few windows placed high in the long, metal-clad wall would allow a bit of light inside, but afforded us no view to the interior. We reached the corner, and I paused.
“There.” I pointed. “Cookie’s driving Oscar’s car.”
“There’s another vehicle.” Lucy had rounded the corner in front of me, standing exposed in the smaller parking lot behind the warehouse.
I stepped forward, an admonishment to be careful on my lips, when I saw where she pointed.
On the far end of the lot was Steve Dawes’ Land Rover.
“Is that . . . ?” she asked as the others joined us.
I nodded. “I’d know that Rover anywhere.” For a brief moment, hope flared. “Maybe he’s here to help.” Steve had certainly aided the spellbook club in the past, both with his druid clan and on his own.
For me. He’s still keeping tabs on me, after all, and knows I might need . . . Then my mind’s eye called up the blond hair flowing out of the window of the Rover, honeyed locks fastened with a long pink ribbon.
Samantha.
“Katie?” Mimsey asked.
I shook myself. “That’s Steve’s car, all right. But I don’t think he’s driving it.”
The other witches exchanged a look.
“Cookie came out here to show the property to Samantha Hatfield. She’s driven his car before.”
“Steve’s new girlfriend?” Mimsey asked.
“His new fiancée,” I corrected.
Jaida’s eyebrows shot up, as Bianca drew her breath in through her teeth. Lucy looked worried—and slightly embarrassed—but Mimsey’s expression held quiet triumph. She’d never really cared for Sam.
“Come on, ladies,” I said. “We have to find a way in. Oh, and be careful. That woman is not what she seems.”
We fanned out, scanning the exterior of the building. Windows on this side were set much lower. Of the five panes, two were broken out.
No wonder Quinn figured animals could get inside. So could people.
Another metal door was set into the corner opposite the one in the front. We moved closer to the building, and I scurried down to the door. It probably wouldn’t be unlocked, but it would be silly not to check. I was already trying to figure out how to break the rest of the glass in one of the windows without making a bunch of noise as I reached for the doorknob.
As I’d expected, it didn’t turn. The door, however, glided silently open. Puzzled, I looked down and saw a small rock in the jam, preventing it from closing far enough for the latch to catch.
An accident? Or Cookie hoping we’d find her in time?
I motioned to the others, who hurried toward me, each woman stooping a bit in order to not be seen from the windows. Holding my finger to my lips, I pointed at the partially open door. Jaida saw the rock and shot me a look. I nodded, then shrugged.
Ever so slowly, I pushed open the door.
The faint scent of sulfur struck me as I peered into the dimly lit space. Though my eyes hadn’t fully adjusted yet, I couldn’t detect any light or movement. However, the light from the open door might be visible from anywhere in the warehouse. Quickly, I stepped in and to the side. The others followed, and Mimsey closed the door behind her.
We stood blinking for a few seconds, hidden in a short hallway leading from the back door to the cavernous, empty storage space in the middle of the building. Four offices opened off either side of the corridor in front of us, all but the closest with doors closed. The near one, I could see, was empty save for a cheap desk and dented file cabinet.
The sulfur smell grew stronger, burning my eyes and reminding me of the fire at Mother Eulora’s. A shuffling sound carried from closer to the front of the building, and I tiptoed down the hallway to lean around the corner. A light flickered about two hundred feet away, a live flame—no, several—at the base of a tall post.
A low moan came from the same direction.
I looked over to see Lucy visibly shaking beside me. Jaida and Mimsey had heard, as well, and shared equally grim expressions. Bianca was wide-eyed with fright. Then her jaw set, she caught my eye, and she gave me a firm nod.
Together we moved out of the hallway and toward the candles.
As we grew nearer, my mind struggled to identify what I was seeing. The post in the middle of the warehouse was part of the structure, and reached up to support the roof. There were others, but this one was surrounded by at least fifty votives. Something was scattered around and even under the candles. As I got closer I saw it was . . . food?
My, my, yes. The smell of the dishes tucked at the bottom of the post was enough to almost clear the sulfur from the air. There was a plate of fried chicken, a tureen of soup—crab?—fresh tomatoes, and chunks of cheese. Over there, a jar of pickled okra leaned against a pile of fresh peaches, and a bowl of peppery coleslaw nestled in the middle of a platter of hush puppies. There was more, lots more, of whatever kind of offering this was.
Then I saw the bare feet standing on the concrete on the other side of the support beam.
“Oh, Cookie!” Lucy cried, rushing toward our friend.
“Back off!” The voice reverberated through the dank air, seeming to come from every direction at once.
I reached for my aunt, but she eluded my grasp and barreled toward Cookie. I ran behind her, the footsteps of our coven mates pounding behind me.
Lucy came up short, shrieking. Her arms flailed and her legs churned backward, almost knocking me over. I caught her, hearing the gasps of the others around me. When I saw why, my stomach did a slow flip beneath my unbeating heart.
Twenty feet away, Cookie stood with her back against the metal beam. She wore a black satin robe that fell to her knees. Her hands were tied to the post above her, and she blinked blearily at us, as if she couldn’t see properly.
And at her feet swarmed the reason Lucy had shrieked like a little girl.
Snakes.
Lots and lots of them, slithering and flowing like a single entity.
My heart came online again, beating furiously as if to make up for lost time, but breathing was difficult. I couldn’t tear my attention away from the roiling mass of red and yellow and black stripes.
The same color as the molted skin on Mother Eulora’s altar. Coral snakes. One was poisonous enough, but this many? Terror arrowed through my solar plexus at the thought.
A lock of fuchsia-streaked hair flipped down over one of Cookie’s eyes as her head lolled forward. The movement caught my attention, and I tore my gaze away from the horrid reptilian tangle and saw it at last.
The gris gris.
The amulet hung from a hook in the metal above our friend’s head. It looked exactly like the talisman in the photo Mother Eulora had given me, except for one thing: The snowy white fringes tied into the lower corners were now inky black. As I stared, they seemed to rise, though there was no breeze to stir them. The silken strands moved toward us like alien antennae, sending a shiver down my back so violent that I shook all over.
Samantha Hatfield stepped out from the shadows to the right of Cookie. We must have walked right past her hiding place. Steve would have recognized his all-American fiancée despite her casual capris being stained with goddess knew what, and instead of pink she wore a simple blue, button-down shirt. But her gaze was calculating, and her thin-lipped smile the stuff of nightmares.
“I was hoping you’d come, Katie. I didn’t expect you’d bring all these other people, though. What ever happened to lone-wolf heroes?”
I took a deep breath, reaching out to the tiny flames of each candle as I had the fire at Eulora’s. I gathered the element of air all around us and mentally felt my way into and through the concrete at our feet, deep into the element of earth below. Silently, I called upon Gabriel and the element of water to join the rest.
Lucy took my hand, and I felt a jolt of hopeful energy. Mimsey took hers then, and Jaida and Bianca joined. It wasn’t a circle, but a linking as effective as any I’d ever felt.
“We are stronger together,” I said to Sam. “You’re alone and desperate.”
She held up her hand as if to push us back, and her nostrils flared.
“We are stronger than you are, whatever drives you and whatever voodoo spells you plan to cast here,” I continued. “I guarantee you that, Samantha. If that’s even your real name.”
“Oh, it’s her real name,” said another voice. My head whipped to the left as Mambo Jeni stepped out from the other side of the warehouse. “And she’s not alone. Not at all.”
My mouth gaped open as my mind scrambled to put it together. “But you said you didn’t know Franklin Taite!”
“I also said I always tell the truth.” She shrugged. “I lied about that, too.”
How could I have been so stupid?
The other spellbook-club members looked confused.
“This is Mambo Jeni,” I told them. “One of the voodoo queens Cookie and I went to see.”
She went on. “Franklin Taite almost arrested my daughter and me down in Louisiana. But we got away and relocated here.”
Daughter? So much for Steve’s new love being a member of the dot-com nouveau riche in Hilton Head. I remembered the dark-haired girl in the picture on Jeni’s fireplace mantel. Now that I could see them together and knew Sam’s hair was dyed blond, the resemblance between mother and daughter was unmistakable. Samantha wasn’t just a customer of Jeni’s; she was her own flesh and blood. And yet the idea was hard to wrap my brain around.
“What about your son?”
Sam made a rude noise. Her mother shrugged. “He’s uninterested in anything except his game console. He knows nothing of any of this.” Jeni shook her head. “But then Detective Taite followed us here.”
“Not terribly clever of you to choose Savannah, given that he used to live here,” Jaida remarked.
Sam pointed at her. “How were we supposed to know that? We came here because the voodoo community is wide and deep. My mother could make a living without standing out, just as she had in New Orleans, while we fine-tuned our plans.”
Plans.
Mambo Jeni grinned. “And the magic in Savannah is strong. We don’t want to leave. When Taite showed up here, I decided that rather than running from him forever, he could help us.”
“Help you what?” Lucy asked in a trembling voice.
Jeni said. “Well, you’re a woman of a certain age.”
I felt my aunt bristle at the words—and the tone.
“And I’m betting you’ve been wronged by a man.”
Mimsey snorted.
The mambo glared at her. “A man who takes up with a younger woman and leaves you with two kids to raise and nothing else—no money, no house, no source of income.”
Bianca rolled her eyes. “Sure. Happens to a lot of us. But we’re women, for heaven’s sake. We don’t need men.”
I suppressed a smile.
Jeni eyed her thoughtfully. “Exactly. And so I did what I’m good at. What I’m trained for.”
“Voodoo?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief out of my voice.
Between the two women, Cookie moaned again. One of the snakes began to coil around her ankle.
Samantha strode toward me. “Shut up. You don’t know anything. My mother raised my brother and me by herself. When she asked for my help to finally set us all up for life, I couldn’t refuse her.”
“You mean Steve Dawes? No way would he marry you without a prenuptial in hand. His father wouldn’t hear of it.”
She smirked. “My mother’s love potions are strong.”
“You know he’s a druid, right?”
Sam looked delighted. “All the better, when I take his power once and for all. It was more . . . difficult to convince him I was the love of his life than most men. That’s why we decided to sacrifice your detective friend. For the extra power it gave to our spells.”
I could feel Lucy’s hand shaking in mine. And no wonder: What this woman was saying was terrifying. They could call it taking power, but we all knew they meant taking lives.
Cookie moaned again. The snake around her ankle began to slowly wind its way up her bare leg.
“Franklin’s death provided enough power to the potion to convince Steve he should marry me,” Sam went on. “But we needed more power to convince his father to give me access to the family fortune.” Her smile was devoid of humor or kindness. “That’s why we tried to sacrifice both you and the spiritualist by fire.”
“You set it?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. But Mommy gave it the extra oomph to do you in.” She laughed.
Mambo Jeni looked pleased. “That gris gris I took from Franklin before we killed him is a thing of wonder. Golly. If it had worked, we would have gained both your power and that of Eulora Scanlon.”
“Didn’t work, did it?” I didn’t try to keep the smugness out of my voice.
“Nope. Came close, though.”
The others had been listening in silence, and now Jaida’s head tipped to the side. “Why are you telling us all this?” she asked.
“Oh! Because as long as you are all here, and we have the only member of your little group who knows anything about voodoo sedated, we’re going to take all your power. Even Steve’s family won’t stop us from getting to the Dawes money then.”