Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rose’s Apothecary—Sage, Flame, & Crystal—was a forty-five-minute bus and light rail adventure.
With me constantly looking around for demon portal traces, Ranth’s occasional bizarre questions earned him some sharp glares from other passengers.
His outfit was apparently a conversation starter.
Who knew vampire kitties were so popular?
I breathed a sigh of relief as Muni dumped us on Rose’s block.
If you didn’t know it was there, it would be easy to walk past the fuchsia painted building sandwiched between Haight and Cole.
It was hard to find a San Francisco residential street without trees or flowers, and I loved the city’s positive natural energy. Rose’s shop was through an arch and at the back of the square garden-like courtyard draped with star jasmine and bougainvillea.
Raspy Khaki bells chimed our arrival as the door swung inward.
The bells were supposed to be imbued with power to ward off demons.
Ranth studied them, giving them an extra tinkle as he walked underneath.
My resistance to believe what he’d told me was starting to concern even me.
Still, something about him irked me into being unreasonable.
I inhaled. If you blended a sun-warmed herb garden with an artisan oil perfumery and added a dash of soy wax and woodsmoke, you’d pretty well nail the scent of Rose’s place.
Hand-dipped candles and bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and essential spell craft elements lined the reclaimed wooden shelves.
My boots sank into the vintage rugs covering the shop’s floor as I motioned Ranth to follow me.
Mom had always warned me against practitioners who pushed to the fringes. Rose was on the cusp of the “you can’t come back from it” line. Maybe she’d already crossed it. My mother likely wouldn’t have approved of Rose, but who I trusted came from my heart. Rose had all my trust.
Ranth had picked up a Lemurian from the crystal table.
“Put that down,” I hissed, grabbing the striated quartz crystal out of his hand and placing it carefully back on its wooden riser.
Rose was super specific about plant energy and crystal vibration interference—the last thing she’d want was some rando wizard pawing her stuff and screwing up the balance.
“Sorry, but Rose likes to hand you things. The shop is a no-touch zone. Like my bathroom. After I get it re-stocked.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t use his hands as he perused the shelves. Maybe I was making progress.
A bustle at the back, followed by the tinkling of necklaces, heralded Rose as she pranced into the main room. Today’s black gusseted silk skirts swished around her ankles.
Ranth sucked in a breath as his attention moved from Rose’s toe-socks to the twin buns she wore à la Princess Leia. She returned the once-over with twitchy lips.
“You were faster than I thought. I’m barely put together.
Excuse the roughness.” She ran a hand self-consciously over her unshaved cheek.
The shadow on Rose’s brown jaw read that her laser appointment was overdue, and she didn’t shave during certain moon phases.
Hormones weren’t an option because she believed they messed with her magic.
The good news was that the stubble boded well for my rose petals.
She must have been up at moon rise doing work.
Side-eying Ranth, she asked, “Who’s the troublemaker touching my stuff?” Her deep voice spread over me like softened butter.
“I am Ranth of Thebais, at your service.” He swept a long arm across his body, bowing his head slightly toward her.
“He’s the wizard issue I need your advice on.”
Ranth huffed beside me.
Rose raised her eyebrows in her signature “oh that could be a problem” reaction. “Let’s take a look. Lock the front and come to the back,” Rose said with a wave that rubbed the dozen silver necklaces around her neck together.
I twisted the bolt on the door, locking it behind us, then followed Rose’s jingling toward the solarium at the back where she did more sensitive spell work.
Rose’s witchery was the no-holds-barred, kind of bury-you-alive, in whatever she had planned.
It wasn’t my style, but Rose’s spells were effective.
She was also a dear friend and had the best quality supplies in town.
“So, what are we dealing with here?” She nodded at Ranth, but her attention was on me.
I pulled up my sleeve and thrust the wrist with the gold chain at her.
“That’s it? It’s just gold?”
“The clasp disappeared. See?” I spun the knitted gold around my wrist.
She rubbed her cheek. Her nails were short and dotted with a pale white opalescent polish. “That’s a problem.”
“Think you can fix it?”
“I dunno. Let’s try a couple of things.”
Ranth stepped in front of me. “No, you will not try a couple of things. If you take this bracelet off her, she will die.”
Rose’s hands went to her hips, sizing Ranth up. “How do you know that?”
“Because every bracelet wearer is cursed to die. That is part of the spell I am under. To remove it, you’d have to kill her.”
Rose swept a hand over a hair bun. “Huh, well we can do that.”
I folded my arms protectively across my chest. “What? No. You’re not killing me.”
Rose studied me. “But he says it’s the only way.”
“Awesome, I’ll take my chances trying to stay alive, thank you very much.”
Rose sat back. “I’m batting .900 with resurrections. You’d be fine.” She waved her hands as if wafting smoke.
Holy Crocus. Brenda’s almost-death had clicked, now making sense.
Brenda had died for a second or whatever time it took to transfer the curse.
“Yeah still, no,” I replied. I was not okay with magic that dealt with life-force.
Messing with the earth, which held power my mother had sworn me never to use, always came with a cost—the one you pay with your own life energy.
The one time I’d tried it I’d stopped breathing for a second.
My now-silver hair was a reminder not to go there.
“Yeah well, not dying today. We’ll figure something else out.
But I do need some stuff while I’m here.
I have a spirit raising and a love oil to craft, and my stock is wiped. Did you harvest petals last night?”
“You’re working while you are entangled? I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” Rose said, taking in Ranth’s sandals, cropped T-shirt and tattooed arm.
We both stared at his damned bracelet.
“I made promises. I think I can manage the love intention oil for Violet and Sascha’s handfasting ceremony, but can you take the spirit interview for me, then?” It probably wasn’t a great idea to do spellwork in a graveyard in my current state.
“You know I can’t do gravework.”
“Right, sorry, completely forgot about that. No worries, I’ll figure it out.
” I had no idea how, but the hours were ticking down.
Rose had given an oath to her coven to stay out of graveyards.
I had asked why, but apparently the coven didn’t give out information to non-members, so I’d been chill with that, but now I kind of wanted to know.
Rose played with the silver hoop in her left ear. “You know, I heard about a new magic person in town that might be able to help with your golden problem. I meant to tell you about him. Technically, I’ve never met him, but I know where you can find him.”
“At this point, I’ll take whatever help you can give, short of the dying-first thing.”
“His name is Harold. He’s down in Marina.
Some call him an other-walker, but I think it’s bull—I’ve never met one besides you.
Josie had a nasty spirit-crusting problem while you were up visiting your stepdad last week, and she went to visit him.
After that, she was fine. The only thing was she didn’t really remember what had gone on.
But I don’t suppose that really matters in your case. Do or die, right?”
“Thanks for boiling that down.” I pressed my lips together, considering. There were no other plane walkers in San Francisco. It was probably going to be a waste of time, but it wasn’t like we had other options.
“Look, since I can’t do your spirit raising, you can take what you need for your custom, on the house. Go to see Harold. It’s probably worth the risk if you can get rid of him.” She nodded at Ranth who glared back at her.
“I’m not a parasite,” he protested.
She looked at him, Crocs to neck scar, and crossed her arms. “Actually, I think you are.” Her eyes were locked with Ranth while she handed me a waxed fabric pouch holding the fresh petals.
“Thanks,” I said, standing between her and Ranth to break the tension. “Can I also get some of these?” I pulled down rose heads drying on strings and hanging from the ceiling.
“Sure thing, hon. Really, whatever you need to get rid of him.”
Ranth crossed his arms.
“You’re the best,” I said, giving Rose a hug. Her signature scent of tonka and rosewood wafted around me like a memory spell.
I waved at Ranth to come with me to the front. He watched as I gathered rose quartz, frankincense resin, raw coconut, lily petals, and a special first-bloom night jasmine oil. The intention oil would be easy, but Rose was right. We should go see Harold before I tried to do spellcraft for others.
“Can I get some paper?” I asked Rose. She’d followed us into the front and was tracking Ranth’s every move, like he was a sticky-fingered customer.
But as he bent over the fungus table and the rippling litheness of his torso peeked out from the pink T-shirt, she cracked a smile. Was she ogling him? I couldn’t tell.
I grinned. I’d drank some elderflower wine with Rose once, and she’d begun to share some of her closer secrets.
She had way more real-life experience than I did, and she had the best quality dried product.
I swore she had a second sense when to pick it.
Really, I couldn’t get much better unless I made it myself—and I did.
My drying shack was my lifeblood. In bumper months, I sold my extra stock to her, and she threw me store credit for what I needed that I couldn’t make.
Our relationship worked. When I needed help, she was there for me, and she called me when she needed extra hands. We respected each other, and I valued her opinion. She was good people. If she said Harold might be able to help us, it was worth a shot.