Page 95 of Want Me, Take Me, Haunt Me, Make Me

She didn’t taste the coffee or the Nutri-Grain bar she choked down with it, knowing that she’d need strength later on but not feeling hunger. She didn’t feel much. Procedure took over, pushing senses aside in favor of an abstract list of the next steps: hot shower with soap that included angelica and cloves, drawing runes on her pulse points with sandalwood oil, getting dressed, packing. Hazel concentrated on each, all of her attention on what she did, and her body might have been a million miles away.

* * *

7:30 a.m.

Sunlight had begun to slant through the living room windows when Hazel walked in. Maxwell, who’d been staring out at the flight ofbirds through the trees, turned when he heard her footsteps and took a long look.

She was all business this morning, her face pale above a dark long-sleeved shirt that fit tightly against her torso. Her trousers had many pockets, her dark boots looked lightweight and firmly laced, and she wore a small pack strapped tightly to her back. A belt at her waist held a pouch and her knife in a clip. The charm around her neck would have stood out in contrast even if their next task hadn’t centered on it.

“I can’t think of anything else,” she said. “I’ve tried.”

“Me too,” said Maxwell. He’d taken his own inventory earlier, though his supplies tended to be less physical than those she carried—and he didn’t know half of that. “Are you ready?”

Hazel laughed shortly. “That’s quite a question. Yes, technically.”

There was no need to say thattechnicallywas the best they’d get. She was already closing the distance between them as she spoke, stopping close enough to Maxwell to have provoked lust under other circumstances. That had been the night before, though, and the day was for grimmer business.

She closed one hand around the charm at her neck and held the other out. Maxwell took it in both of his. Looking into her eyes, he breathed two words in Latin, opening up his end of the channel, and felt the electric jolt as Hazel replied with her pair and the connection fell into place. Power began to travel through him, feeding from the earth into Hazel by way of his training and then through her into the charm.

Neither of them had known what to expect; Maxwell had a rough idea of how to empower objects and Hazel had read a few rites. The ribbons of rainbow light that began unfurling from the charm caught both of them by surprise. Four emerged at first, each one shining with colored stripes, and they sprouted others as needed while they curled around Hazel’s body. They ran up over her shoulders and down her back to her waist, traced a complex pentagram over her chest, andspread out from under her breasts until she looked as though she were wearing a very complicated top made of multicolored ribbons.

Maxwell released his grip. “Does it feel… Howdoesit feel?”

“Warm,” Hazel said, with an experimental wriggle of her shoulders. “In a good way. Solid. Not too heavy, but it does have some weight. I’d know it’s there even if I couldn’t see it.”

“That means it’s strong, I hope,” said Maxwell, with no basisbuthope. Then, reluctantly: “Shall we?”

“No time like the present.”

* * *

8:15 a.m.

The patterns on the ground were sharp and clear, marked with fluorescent blue aquarium gravel, with four candles and a bowl of water at the center. Casper sat in front of them, his head cocked, barely a shimmer of blue in the sunlight to anybody who didn’t know what to look for. As Hazel and Maxwell came out the door, he got to his feet and barked once.

A fist tightened in Hazel’s chest. “Hey, buddy,” she said, crossing the yard to the ghost dog. Keeping a tight hold on Chapman’s jar with one hand, she patted Casper’s head with the other. “I’ve got to go away for a bit. I’ll try to be back soon.”

Casper barked again, wagging a feathery, ethereal tail. Then, when Hazel started toward her position near the candles, he followed her.

“You can’t come with me,” Hazel told him, as sternly as she could. It didn’t seem to make any impression—the dog just stayed at her side. She sighed and looked at Maxwell, who stood on the opposite side of the candle ring waiting for her. “Can you keep him here?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never tried to restrain ghosts, whether they were animals or people. I could make the attempt.” The robeconcealed most of his face again, putting more distance than the physical between them, but his voice bridged it. “But perhaps you should let him go with you.”

“It’s dangerous—”

“All the more reason not to go alone. It isn’t as though this place will be particularly safe either.”

Hazel bit her lip, but nodded. “You’ve got a good point. Okay. But like before—if we run into any danger, yourun, all right?” She tried to glare at the dog, who just wagged his tail again.

“You can only do so much to deny a loyal heart,” Maxwell said gently.

“Yeah. But I have to try.” Hazel took in as much of the yard as she could, knowing that it might be the last time she saw the world she knew. She couldn’t linger too long on the bright blue of the morning sky, the sprouting plants, or even Maxwell’s graceful robed form, but she tried to burn them all into her mind in that minute. Then she squared her shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

Maxwell handed her a vial of squirming red liquid, holding onto her hand for longer than necessary. “I’m so very fortunate to have known you,” he said. “Even under these circumstances.”

“Under any circumstances,” said Hazel, and leaned over the candles to kiss him one more time.

Then, because if she waited any longer she’d lose her nerve, she flipped open the bottle and gulped down most of the poison.