toad witch 04 - aunt tilly were canning demons Page 13

  “Are you kidding me? I know you. I’ll rub your back for an hour, you’ll do my neck for five minutes, and that’ll be that.”

  “And the problem would be?” Gus asked.

  “Have any of your boyfriends complained about you being foreplay-challenged?”

  “Step back, missy. I am the foreplay master.”

  “More like the numbskull master.” Aunt Tillie looked out at us from her skull, her expression a cross between worried and pissed. “How’d it go? I told you it was a bad idea, didn’t I? I felt something ping the web and I tried to wake you.”

  “Is that why you were yelling in my head?” I asked.

  “You can take the girl out of Devil’s Point,” Gus said, grinning. “But you can’t take Devil’s Point out of the girl.”

  Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes.

  AFTER WE DROPPED EVERYTHING off in the storeroom, we walked over to Mama Lua’s cottage. The bedroom unit, the cottage, the furniture, the yard, everything was sparkling clean, and everything that could be, had been freshly laundered. The place smelled like lemons and sunshine. Even the weird, bloody sigils on the kitchen wall were gone. Not even a shadow remained.

  “I love these cleaners. We so owe Nick,” I said, as we walked into the cottage. “This is amazing.”

  “I told you, you’d be happy.” Gus grinned.

  “I am. I can stay here tonight and not be creeped out.”

  Gus looked at the kitchen wall and frowned. “I have to say, I was on the fence about those sigils. What if they were some kind of protection spell, and now they’re gone?”

  “I swear I’m going to slap you. If you ever get hold of Mama Lua, you can ask her. Hey, what happened to the flat cat?”

  Gus hesitated.

  I knew that look, though. From repeated experience. “Don’t tell me you put it in the freezer!”

  “Okay…I won’t.”

  “Gus!”

  “Relax. It’s in the store freezer, not this one.”

  “What is it with you and freezers?”

  “Not just me, apparently. The store freezer is like a mini-morgue, full of roadkill. Mama Lua totally understands witches like me. Waste not, want not.”

  I shuddered.

  Gus laughed. “You’re so squeamish. You’re going to get your witch card revoked. Ancestor worship, through revering bones and skulls, has been around since…well…ever. In all different religions. As has the shamanistic use of animal bones. It’s not like any of this is new.”

  “I know that up here,” I pointed to my brain. “But it’s completely new-to-me in here,” I said, pointing at my heart. “I’m fine with living beings and bone-beings and spirit beings, it’s just the in-between fleshy morgue stage that I could do without. Now can we please stop talking about it? I’m starting to feel nauseous.”

  Just then, Nick walked into the back yard of the cottage, toting all of our bags with him. “Welcome to Los Angeles. Not that I’m trying to kick you out of my place, but I have a date tonight. So you two gotta vamoose.” He opened the door to the bedroom unit and tossed our bags in there.

  “You’re a dog,” Gus said.

  Nick howled. “A dog’s gotta do, what a dog’s gotta do. Text me if I forgot anything, and I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

  “So, I guess we’re staying here tonight,” I said, suddenly nervous.

  “Don’t you worry, little mama. I’ve got something special for you.” Nick handed me a pocket-sized canister of pepper spray.

  “Uhm…thanks?”

  “I figure Gus should be able to keep out the supernatural monsters. But he’s useless if any monsters of the human variety get up in your face. I’d give you a Taser, but knowing Gus, he’d start playing with it and wind up tazing you. Or himself. Which I would actually be okay with, especially if you got it on video.”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny. Did you bring my computer?” Gus asked. “We’ve got some footage I want to download.”

  Nick looked at the suitcases he had dropped off. “I knew I forgot something. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be back with it.”

  “If we give you fifteen, will you bring back coffee too?” When Nick looked at my belly, I added, “Decaf for me, obviously.” Decaf was better than nothing.

  “For you, anything,” Nick said, with a wicked grin.

  Gus rolled his eyes.

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Nick met us in the back of the store with the laptop and the lattes. Gus had the cameras laid out on the table, ready to download the images.

  “Is that my camera? My night vision motion-sensor camera? My police-issued night vision motion-sensor camera?”

  Gus looked like he swallowed a cockroach.

  Where did you get one of those?” Nick asked, looking at him. “And where did you get those night vision binoculars?”

  Gus shrugged. “Found them.”

  “Where, exactly?”

  “In your police car,” Gus said grinning. “Hey, if you don’t want people borrowing things, you need to hide them better.”

  “You say borrow, I say theft,” Nick said, frowning. “I should arrest you.”

  “We’ll give them back to you in a few minutes,” I said. “We just need to download some images.”

  I mouthed for Gus to hurry up. Nick was not looking at all happy.

  Gus got out his computer and sat down, plugging the night-vision camera into the USB port. “Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

  As we flipped through the photos, I noticed something weird towards the bottom of one. “Right there. See those two glowing flames? Can you heighten the contrast?”

  Gus looked at the screen, frozen in uncertainty. “Uhhhh…”

  “Dude, of course you can. Take it into Photoshop,” Nick said. “Here, move over.” Nick replaced Gus behind the computer, and heightened the contrast.

  It was faint, but I could see the outline of…some kind of canine with weird, burning eyes. “Isn’t that where we found the pile of bones?” I asked. “Is that a coyote?”

  “Good thing I kept the skull.” Gus pulled it out of his man bag and studied it. “It’s not a coyote. The snout isn’t long enough.”

  “You and mom and your skull obsessions,” Nick said, shaking his head.

  “And Gran,” Gus reminded him.

  “How the hell did I wind up in the same family as you three?” Nick asked.

  “Beats me,” Gus said. “My personal theory is that you’re a throwback to the Neanderthal bloodline.”

  Nick punched him in the arm, hard enough to make Gus yelp. I kept looking through the images.

  “Those eyes are weird, right?” I asked.

  “All the photos are weird. This camera is usually much better than that.” Nick looked over my shoulder. “Witches and electronics. I’m lucky you two didn’t destroy the camera by looking at it cross-eyed.”

  “Hey!” Gus complained. “That’s Mara’s thing, not me.”

  I flipped forward through the rest of the photos. “Do you remember the bones that Emily brought in?”

  “Yeah,” Gus said. “Rat, Snake, Possum, Fox, and now Dog.”

  “What about the camera you made,” I asked Gus. “What did we get footage-wise?”

  Nick laughed. “Gus made a night-vision camera? This I have to see.”

  Gus saved the images, and unplugged Nick’s camera.

  “Here you go,” he said to Nick, handing it to him. “You can have it back.”

  “Gee, thank you so much for giving me back my own property.”

  Gus flipped him off and switched to his homemade camera, plugging it into the computer, and downloading the images, but all it had recorded were random bursts of light.

  “Well, that was a bust,” I said.

  “What did you expect? Gus made it. Enough said.”

  Gus flipped Nick off. “Obviously, it malfunctioned when it got hit by my awesome witchy energy.”

  “Whatever.” Nick looked at his watch. “Okay, chickens. I gotta run. Have fun in yo
ur new digs.”

  After he left, Gus shut down the computer and put it in his bag. “Sorry, I need to take this with me.”

  “Where are you going?!” I asked. “You are not leaving me in the store alone.”

  “Just for a bit. You’ll be fine. You’re a big girl. You’ve got Tillie to keep you company. Sounds like one of your normal days back in Devil’s Point to me.”

  “That’s different,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Devil’s Point is home. And I’d have the Dobes there, too.”

  Gus laughed. “At least you don’t have to worry about a zombie amphibian who may or may not be fantasizing about eating your brain. Speaking of, you should probably check in on Paul. Just in case. I’m on my cell if you need me.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Tell you later,” he said, winking. “I don’t want to jinx it.”

  “You’re coming back tonight, right? I’m not spending the night alone here, right?”

  “Of course. Depending on how the day goes. A boy’s got needs, y’know.”

  “Your needs had better be met before the store closes. I mean it.”

  “I know.” He winked at me again. “You’ll be fine.” And with that, he was gone, and I was alone.

  CHAPTER 9

  It was almost time to open the store, and I was hungry and tired. There wasn’t much in the cottage fridge though, other than water, a bottle of vodka, ice cream, a package of ground beef, cheese slices and a large frozen pizza. I texted Gus to pick up some groceries on his way home.

  When I turned the oven on to cook the pizza, nothing happened. No pilot light, no gas, nothing. I wondered if that was why Mama Lua had set up an outdoor kitchen, behind the store.

  I turned the stove off, grabbed the pizza and water, and headed for the store. Through the gaps in the fencing, I caught a glimpse of the homeless guy and his scruffy dog. So, I went back to the fridge and grabbed the ground beef as well. May as well feed all of us.

  I COOKED the pizza in the toaster oven. Then I heated the ground beef and made a plate for the homeless guy and another one for his dog. But I’m not a saint—I scarfed down my share of the pizza before leaving the kitchen area. Last thing I wanted to do was leave my lunch to the mercy of the local ant colonies—assuming they’d dare to re-invade after the cleaners had evicted them.

  The homeless guy was still on the sidewalk, although he had moved to the front of the store, where he sat in the shade of the awning. As I walked over, the dog slunk away, fixing me with its eyes.

  “Sorry, he don’t like people much,” the man said.

  “I can understand that. I made too much food for lunch, so I was wondering if you would like some.” His eyes lit up as I handed him the plate of pizza. “My name is Mara, by the way. What’s yours?”

  “Francisco. My friends call me Frank.”

  “Frank it is. I had some ground beef left over too,” I said, holding out a smaller plate. “Think your dog would want it?”

  “It would sure ease my mind if he could have it,” Frank said, and laughed. At least, he tried to laugh, but it got mixed up with a coughing fit. When he could breathe again, he finished the rest of his sentence: “He’s been eyeballing me like I might be his next meal, if I don’t pony up some nosh for him. But the 99-cent store won’t let me bring him inside.”

  “That’s not good,” I said, putting the plate down for the dog. The dog was so hungry, he practically inhaled the ground beef, and then licked the plate clean. “How long have you had him?”

  “Do we really have anyone? We were traveling in the same direction. Two souls, alone. So, he decided to come on over and walk with me for a bit. Company sure makes the journey easier.”

  “If you say so,” I said, doubtfully. “If you don’t mind me asking…how did you wind up living on the street? You don’t seem like a typical homeless person.”

  “I didn’t know there was such a thing. Or do you mean a stereotypical homeless person? Just because I can hold up my end of a conversation and don’t seem to be a drug addict?”

  “Well, yeah,” I said, blushing. “You seem like a normal person. Except for the whole living on the sidewalk thing.”

  “I used to have an apartment. A job. A car. Even a girlfriend. All the trappings of success.”

  “What happened?”

  “No rent control. Bad timing. The building was bought by a developer. He raised the rent by a hundred percent so the tenants would all have to leave. Then he tore the place down to the studs, rebuilt, remodeled, and now it’s a high-class, high-priced condo building. Same time that happened, I got laid off. No job, no proof of income, no one would rent to me. Girlfriend dumped me. Lived in my car for a bit, but then I ran out of money for gas and the cops started leaving tickets on my windshield. I was out begging for money when they towed it, because as far as they were concerned, my home was an abandoned vehicle. So, now, I’m on the sidewalk. Just me and my buddy, here.”

  I could relate. I had been evicted after I lost my job. If it wasn’t for inheriting Aunt Tillie’s cottage last summer, I could easily have been in the same boat. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s typical Los Angeles. Rents are crazy high. Tent cities are growing like weeds. Whole families are living in some of them. I’ve been trying to save up, to get my own tent.”

  “Wow. I hope that happens soon for you,” I said, making a mental note to talk to Gus about us buying a tent for Frank.

  “Ma’am, would you mind…Can I use the bathroom? It’s been awhile.”

  “Oh, sure,” I said, putting my hand in my pocket, to make sure the pepper spray container that Nick had given me was still there. Just in case. I may be nice, but I’m not stupid. “Follow me around back. Bring the dog, too. I have some more ground beef I can heat up for him.”

  Frank stood up and ambled after me, with his scraggly dog in tow.

  FRANK POPPED into the bathroom behind the store, and just as quickly popped out. “There’s a shower in here. An actual shower.”

  “It’s a pretty amazing bathroom, right?” I had never seen a shower in a public bathroom before, but it made sense for Mama Lua’s. Sometimes rituals got messy. You could wind up covered in flour or mud or paint or wine or gin or even (yuck) blood. The whole chicken sacrifice thing was big with some of the Voudoun and Santeria practitioners. And Mama Lua probably wouldn’t want the ritual-goers to go inside the store or inside her cottage to wash off.

  “Do you mind?” he asked, pointing in the direction of the shower.

  “Knock yourself out. I’ll sit out here with your…are you sure this is a dog? Not a coyote?”

  “Coyotes are scared of people. Dogs aren’t,” he said, as he popped back into the bathroom.

  “Not all coyotes and not all dogs,” I muttered.

  A few seconds later, I heard the water turn on. I got a bowl of water for the dog. He still looked hungry, so I put the rest of the ground beef into the toaster oven and browned it for him. I guess I could have given it to him raw, but I wasn’t thinking.

  When he smelled it cooking, he started to drool in anticipation. When it was done, I bent to put the plate down. He snarled and lunged for it. I dropped the plate and quickly stepped back. Dog, my ass. That thing was feral. The baby shifted in its direction.

  For a second, the dog looked up from his food, and snarled. I could have sworn its eyes turned red as it flashed a warning growl at me. I blinked and its eyes were back to normal. Either it was a trick of the light, or my imagination was working overtime.

  I took the pepper spray out of my pocket and held in the ready position. I wasn’t sure if it would work on dogs the same way, but eyes were eyes, right? If that thing decided to lunge at me as his second course, or some kind of human dessert, I was going to be prepared.

  I looked around. I wanted something heavy something between us. I slowly walked over to the ritual space and grabbed the cast iron cauldron lid off the outdoor cauldron. I wasn’t sure why, but I was more s
cared of that dog than I had been of the wolf back in Devil’s Point.

  The sound of the shower stopped. Frank came out of the bathroom looking much cleaner, happier and smelling better. His clothes were soaking wet from their impromptu wash and he was dripping water everywhere. The nice thing about California was that they would dry off relatively quickly, just from him wearing them in the sun.

  “Thank you so much, Ms. Mara,” he started, and stopped when he saw me facing off with his dog. “What’s going on?”

  “Are you sure this is just a dog, Frank? It was acting a little…feral.”

  “You would be too, living on the streets,” Frank said, calling the dog over to him.

  The dog gave the plate a last once-over with his tongue, then trotted over to Frank, looking very friendly and dog-like, making me feel like an idiot.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just…he got a little growly and mean about the food. It was a little scary.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Ms. Mara. He’s still getting used to people. Fear and hunger can make a dog act stupid.”

  “Are you sure he’s not some kind of coyote-wolf-dog hybrid? Are you sure you’re safe with him?”

  Frank looked at his dog and nodded. “I’ll be okay. My daddy used to raise wolf-dog hybrids. Would take them on his security details. Huge prey drive. Great for bringing down criminals, not too good at letting them go though. That’s how he lost his job. Got sued by a burglar, can you imagine? Horrible as pets, at least until they’re more than a few generations removed from the wolf. My daddy’s were almost impossible to contain. They could jump over any fence, dig under walls. My daddy had to keep his in the garage, and one of them even attacked him one day, when he went to feed it. But my daddy was a tough son-of-a-bitch. Punched that wolf-dog right out. I admit, this dog reminds me of one of my daddy’s dogs. Just by looks though. He don’t have a mean bone in his body, leastwise, not as I’ve been able to see. Although he sure is skittish around people.”

  I nodded and unlocked the gate for them to leave, just as Nick’s patrol car turned the corner. He parked and got out, eyeballing Frank.