Page 10 of Curses & Cold Brew
“I have a soul to collect,” I answered as I listened for Iris’s breathing to steady. “Second death this week, in fact. What should’ve been a bountiful reaping,” I added bitterly.
“Sounds like a busy week for you and Rudy,” Iris said, finally catching up to me.
Rudy, the town medical examiner, and I had an interesting relationship, to say the least. To him, my deals were unnatural.Rich sentiment coming from a pumpkin-headed monster. But often, my job included prolonging the lives of the town residents, which made his line of work more difficult, especially when it came to the reports he had to file. Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix, though. Our guy at the state department definitely knew a thing or two about deals with devils. But Rudy was stalwart about not breaking certain occult rules and believed in the cosmic order of things.
Circle of life and all thatLion Kingnonsense.
“. . . and then he got his tail stuck in a bundle of rosemary.”
I blinked, realizing I hadn’t been paying attention to whatever Iris was blathering about.
Something about her cat, I guessed.
Her overfamiliarity rankled me. I was meant to be feared, if not revered. But a little quiet part of me was pleased that she wasn’t cowed by my presence, and I let her continue nattering on about her mischievous familiar.
I relished the cool evening breeze on my skin. The colder the better, in my opinion, since my skin seemed permanently heated from the fires of hell. I should’ve been irked by the witch interrupting my midnight agenda, but in that moment, I couldn’t seem to find the energy to care.
“Ramona?”
“Hmm?” I replied.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
Iris crossed her arms in stubborn—and, if I’m being honest with myself, adorable—indignation. “Then what was I saying?”
“Something about your cat.”
Her bottom lip jutted out. “Lucky guess.” As we rounded the corner, Iris’s eyes fell on the Gothic abode stretching skyward in front of us. “We’re going to Bats & Broomsticks?”
“The time is up for the local inn proprietor, and before her body can be disturbed, her soul must be retrieved by its rightful, new owner. Me.” I could have imagined it, but I swore Iris shivered beside me.
“And how am I supposed to help with that?”
“You’ll see.” I opened the distance between us again, forcing her to hurry behind me.
The brick path up to the main entrance was riddled with the last fallen leaves of the year. Only enough to complement the carved pumpkins that lined the walkway up to the door. The four-story, shingled, white building was the perfect canvas for the black shutters and window boxes filled with obsidian flowers. An ornately carved sign decorated with bats and jack-o’-lanterns was mounted on the front door along with a skull-shaped brass door knocker. The residence was one of the oldest boarding houses in New England and was one of the most photographed buildings in town for its regal spires, Gothic iron fencing, and general gloom. Social media influencers loved to pose in front of the place for its spooky aesthetic.
I led Iris around to the back door that separated the guest accommodations from the family quarters. The Ketchum family had owned the place for over three hundred years, though the B&B had only been open for the last hundred.
I knew Maude’s small bedroom was located on the first floor. It gave her better access to the front when out-of-towners arrived in the middle of the night, looking to check in. Her children had moved into the rooms on the top floor when they’d become adults and had families of their own. The three other floors were every vacationer’s dream.
We reached the door, and Iris narrowly missed running into me when I paused before unlocking it. “Wait here.” I darted Iris a look when she opened her mouth to protest and was pleasedto find that my withering stare was enough to make her close it again.
No one knew yet that Maude had finally given up the ghost, so to speak. And though Iris was a witch, she had a delicate heart, and I didn’t want to risk her falling apart if there was a less-than-peaceful scene on the other side. I’d found souls in all sorts of crazy and compromising positions. My favorites were the autoerotic asphyxiations. Not that I thought old Maude was into that, but one thing I’d learned in my centuries of soul-reaping was the most vanilla-looking people were the ones you had to watch out for.
I waited until Iris nodded her head in agreement.
Good girl.
Then, harnessing my magic, I slid the deadbolt aside, cracked open the door, and stepped into the small living room. To the right was the bathroom and to the left was the main bedroom. But there wasn’t a body.
As I projected out with my supernatural senses, I frowned. I should’ve been able to feel the soul trapped in its former meat suit, but something about this collection was off. I moved into the bedroom, fear mounting as I was met with the familiar scent of herbs.
Rushing faster, I found Maude’s body serenely tucked into her bed. Whatever had finally ended her life hadn’t been a disturbance or villainous monster. Just an old woman drifting off in her sleep for the last time. I leaned in close to the bowl of herbs on her nightstand and, just as before, a hunk of iron sat next to a black tourmaline crystal. I looked down at the ring of yarrow and salt that had been broken upon the perpetrator’s departure.
“Fuck.” The whispered curse flew from my lips when I spied the skin above Maude’s nightgown.
