Page 22 of Curses & Cold Brew
Instead of answering Naphula’s accusatory question, Ramona only repeated, “I am here to request a favor of the council. I only need a few moments of their time.”
Naphula rounded a banister and started slowly walking down the obsidian stairs to meet us. Each step was etched with gold scenes that were hard to make out but made me uneasy, nonetheless. When her sharp heels hit the main floor, she paused several feet away and looked me over. I could feel the judgment radiating from her. Whether she was displeased that her friend brought me into their sacred space or that I existed at all was up for question.
“They are fully booked today,” Naphula said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You will need to reschedule. Perhaps I can be of help?”
Ramona let out a frustrated sound, her shoulders drooping. “You already know why I’m here.” She sounded pained to admit it. “My missing souls.”
“Souls?” Naphula asked, eyes darting from Ramona to me and back. “As in plural?”
“The old innkeeper’s soul has been pilfered as well,” Ramona admitted.
“Shit,” Naphula replied tightly. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“You never answer your fucking phone anymore.” The muscle in Ramona’s jaw worked. “Besides, I thought I had it handled.” Her eyes shifted down to me. “There’s got to be some way to track these souls down. They didn’t just vanish into the ether. Someone took them. And if they’re not in hell, they’re being held somewhere else.”
“Tracking souls . . .” Naphula shook her head. “That’s well above our clearance.”
“Yes,” Ramona gritted out. “Which is why we’re here.”
A look of exasperation crossed Naphula’s cold face. “If you want to interrupt their meeting, I’m sure their displeasure will make quite the show.”
“It would be for a good reason,” Ramona countered.
Naphula inspected her fingernails, feigning boredom to make her point—something Ramona did often as well. “Indeed. And Dominic will be very excited to inspect a soul marked with your sigil.” Her midnight eyes slid to me. “Especially since such souls are being snatched right out from under your nose.”
Ramona’s lip curled in disgust. “I think it’s best that I come back at a later time.Withoutthe witch.”
“Good thinking.” Naphula smiled at Ramona, proud of herself for her victory over Ramona’s ego. “But I’ll let them know thatyoustopped by.”
I knew, in her own way, that Naphula was trying to protect Ramona—and me by extension.
Ramona hooked her hand around my elbow and steered me away. “Let’s go.”
As I followed her to the magical exit, I thought back to the comment Ramona had made about tracking the missing souls. After all, there were stacks of spell books at the apothecary full of locator spells. My mind started whirling. It would take time, but there had to be something in those books we could use to summon one of the missing souls. Witches used soul summoning all the time. Jordyn’s mishap last year wasn’t typical, but I would heed that experience.
Maybe I could find a spell that could tell us who had stolen Ramona’s souls?
We didn’t need another Lou situation on our hands, but summoning Saul or Maude for a short time couldn’t hurt. If I could find a way to tweak the spell so that I could pull a bound soul to me, maybe they could tell me who’d come for them. Evenif they didn’t remember, maybe there’d be a magical fingerprint left on them by the culprit.
“I have a plan,” I announced once the crisp air of the outside world pushed into my lungs.
Ramona looked over her shoulder at the door she’d just sealed. Only the thin outline of the secret opening remained.
“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t,” she said before I could even get a word out. “I have no more time to discuss your foolish schemes or whacky, witchy what-have-yous.”
“What?” I looked around the silent street as if I’d find an answer written across the red brick. “You don’t want to hear my plan?”
What had changed in the matter of minutes we’d spent in the demonic council chambers?
Something like fear flashed behind Ramona’s eyes. She seemed rattled, but by what, I didn’t know. When Naphula had mentioned Dominic and the fact that I also bore her sigil . . .
She placed her hand on my lower back and guided me to the middle of the town square before she spoke. The witch-hat gazebo was inundated with tourists using it as a backdrop for their family photos. Ramona stopped in front of me, blocking us from prospective photo bombs.
Why did she need me to be out in the open for whatever she was about to say? This felt like some douchebag breakup strategy.
Then she looked at me, her brows knitted in concern, and my stomach clenched.
“This is dangerous, Iris,” she said. “More dangerous than you know. I never should’ve roped you into this. The best thing you can do to help is to stay away until I figure out who has been snatching these souls.”
