Chapter 24 Katarina
It was time to get out of here. No more sulking around. No more crying and feeling sorry for myself. I’d lost enough time in this prison of a house, and now that I remembered who was waiting for me to return home, I needed to make it happen.
But how do I do this? Was Farah telling me the truth about my parents? I mean, it seemed like she was being honest with me, but then again, she was a demon. She was also right. If I had a way to break curses, then I should treat it just like one of my heists.
First, I needed to know what I was up against. Rolling off the bed and to my feet, I started to pace around the room.
I’d already tried to open the windows and doors but that got me nowhere.
Running my fingers over every inch of the wall, I closed my eyes and listened.
Just like a safe…there had to be a way to break through this curse that held me in this room.
I didn’t know how many times I circled around it before I heard it.
That faint click of the lock sliding into place.
My eyes were closed so I didn’t see the magic, but my body was suddenly so attuned to the slight vibration that I knew I’d tapped into some innate knowledge just like my grandmother said I could do.
Taking a step back, I slowly ran my hand along the middle of the wall where a piece of wainscoting divided the top half from the bottom.
The now familiar hum of magic intensified as I got closer to the corner.
My fingertips tingled like they’d been asleep, and I smiled as I realized I really could feel the magic.
I opened my eyes and sucked in a surprised breath. The entire room was glowing in an orb of pink. Every square inch of the place was covered in a rosy haze. This must be the curse. And I could see it.
“Oh my god,” I breathed. “Farah was right.” My neck began to ache from looking up at the spell manifesting above me. Now I just needed to figure out a way to break through. In my line of work, I break through by actually breaking things. So, why not give that a try?
Walking over to the window in front of the bed, I slowly lifted my hand and reached a finger out toward the pink curse.
I hesitated a moment, wondering what might happen to me if I actually touched it.
But then I realized that it couldn’t be worse than being trapped in here, so I bit my bottom lip and pushed against the orb.
It moved with my finger, expanding like a balloon wherever I touched it.
Flexible and malleable and definitely not letting me poke through to the other side.
On to Plan B. This orb would not beat me.
I closed my eyes and steadied my breath.
Whenever a safe or a lock was giving me a hard time, I calmed my nerves and refocused my energy.
It was the only way to stay composed under pressure.
I’d been practicing this technique for more than a decade.
So, I slowed my breathing and focused my mind on the curse.
All I needed to do was get one little hole in it, and I had a feeling it would break. Just one more push and…
“Yes!”
I felt the spell fall the moment my finger broke through and touched the wallpaper.
My ears popped with the change of pressure in the room, and I swear there was a high-pitched squeal coming from the magic itself as it dissolved around me.
I couldn’t see the pink anymore, but as the spell fell away, the real room revealed its hidden secrets.
I wasn’t in a restored home. I was in a dilapidated house on the verge of succumbing to nature.
The walls were chipped and dirty. The oak floors were now a shade of gray and several planks of wood were rotting bad enough that I could see light coming through them.
The glass in three of the windows in the room was clouded with age and covered in cobwebs.
In fact, I think there were more spiders in this one space than I cared to imagine.
Focusing on the door with its chipped green paint and splintered wood, I slowly turned the knob and opened it just a few inches.
The antique hinges creaked, and I cringed, wondering if there was anyone else in the house who might hear me.
Holding my breath, I listened. When I didn’t hear anything, I opened the door wide enough for my body to fit through.
But that wasn’t a smart move as the door squealed so loudly my heart stopped beating.
I sucked in a breath and tried to will the noise away.
No luck. Something scurried on the floor below, and although I couldn’t see the end of the hallway, I heard two men talking to each other.
“Did you hear that?”
“No. Stop worrying about—”
“Shh. Something’s wrong. Come on!”
Shit.
I closed the door as quietly as I could and turned the lock on the knob.
Before I had a chance to wonder if the men had a key, I heard them bounding up the stairs.
I spun on my heels, looking for another way out.
My only option was the dirty old windows, so I quickly looked at each of them hoping for an escape route.
The one nearest the closet gave me my best chance.
At a glance, it seemed like it might be above a porch, which may give me a way down to the ground.
The footsteps in the hallway grew louder. I looked around the room, searching for something to help break the glass. I was still wearing my leggings and tank top from when I’d been captured, and I wasn’t so keen on getting glass in my arm.
The men slammed into the bedroom door, jiggling the doorknob as they tried to break in. “The spell is gone,” one of them shouted.
“I know,” the other growled, his face close enough to the door that I could feel his frustration in his voice.
Not trusting that lock to hold up much longer, I grabbed the dusty quilt off the foot of the bed, wrapped it around my arm several times, and ran over to the window.
I turned my head to the side and sucked in a breath in preparation for the pain.
With gritted teeth, I slammed my padded elbow into the glass and breathed a quick sigh of relief when it shattered.
It was thicker than I expected, so a not-so-nice stab of pain shot through my funny bone, but I ignored it and continued to smash the glass to clear enough space for my body to fit through.
The bedroom door vibrated with each kick the men were giving it, pieces of paint falling from the wooden entrance in a warning.
I didn’t have much time left. Sticking my head out the window, I breathed a quick sigh of relief when I noticed the roof of the front porch below.
I set the quilt down on the sill and stuck my right leg through, weaving my body out of the hole until I was standing on a very rickety overhang.
And just as I got my balance, the bedroom door flew off its hinges and the two men busted inside.
“There!” The second man that ran into the room saw me through the window, and I immediately turned and started running along the roofline.
The old slate shingles slid beneath my feet, many of them breaking under my steps.
With arms flailing, I managed the dangerous dance of staying on my feet and not getting caught.
“Get back here!”
“No!” I screamed back, not sure why I felt the need to respond. I was in flight or fight mode right now and couldn’t be responsible for the words that came out of my mouth.
“Shit!” one of the men screamed. “Get downstairs!”
I didn’t have much time. I needed to get on the ground and find a way home. With no better options presenting themselves, I reached the end of the porch roof and jumped. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed it was going to be about a ten-foot drop. If I timed it right, I could land and roll and—
“Ahh!” My ankles crunched when I hit the ground, and I immediately fell to my hands and knees.
The dried-up grass and course, sandy dirt dug into my palms. Cursing at my idiocy, I did roll a few times, but mostly to keep the weight off my feet and hands until I could assess the real damage.
My body slammed into one of those decorative bushes that hadn’t been pruned in a while, and I used the overgrowth as cover to catch my breath and take note of my surroundings.
While the pain throbbed through my legs, I searched for a way off the property.
On my left was the driveway, lined with old oak trees dripping with Spanish moss.
I guessed it was about half a mile long.
On my right was the house. A giant mansion typical of the agricultural South.
Six large columns held up the porch I’d just thrown myself off, and I had to huff a laugh when I realized that it had been way higher than ten feet. What had I been thinking?
The two men burst out the front door, nearly falling over themselves.
It would have been funny had I not been the one being chased by the morons.
They scanned the surroundings for me as I pushed myself deeper under the cover of the bush.
I heard them yelling at each other but couldn’t tell what they were saying exactly.
And when they split up and started to search different sides of the house, I knew I had my out.
If I could just hide a few more minutes, then I might have a chance to make a run for it.
I rolled my ankles to assess the damage. Nothing broken. Maybe a little sprained. But I could handle it. As I moved my wrists and watched the tallest of the two men search nearby, I had a flash of a vision. Manicured yard, long driveway, stone walls. Someone looking out for me. Keeping watch.
Grim!
My foggy head finally cleared with that single thought, and I remembered my boy. The original protector who had been by my side for years. The large black dog who’d shown up on my doorstep on my eighteenth birthday.
I’m coming, Grim.
I didn’t know exactly how I was going to make the run down the driveway, but I knew I had to.
Waiting until I couldn’t hear my captors crashing through the grounds, I wiggled out from under the bush, pushed up to my feet, and ground my teeth together to deal with the pain.
The sharp, searing stabs of agony only lasted a few seconds, and then I put one foot in front of the other and started running.
Staying close to the oak trees, I skirted from one trunk to the next, doing my best to be quiet and fast. But as I got halfway down the driveway, an overwhelming feeling of dread nearly brought me to my knees. If I ran any further, something terrible was going to happen.
The emotions racing through me had me clutching my chest. I leaned against one of the trees, being sure to avoid both the captors and the fire ant nest. Sucking in quick breaths, I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. Dread. Pure, unfiltered dread shook me to the core. Was this another spell?
I tried to see a curse in the air. In the distance, where the driveway ended on the dirt county road, I thought I saw a slight shimmering in the air. Either that, or I was starting to hallucinate because I couldn’t catch my breath.
No, there was something there. Another spell meant to keep me here and encouraging me not to run away. Clever, clever witches.
Well, fuck them.
I wasn’t staying here one second longer.
Grim!
I shouted in my head, willing my dog to send me the psychic strength I needed.
He must have heard me because I got a surge of pure love and joy when he realized we could communicate again.
I couldn’t see through his eyes right now, but I felt it in my soul.
Grim would get the men, and they would come find me.
I just needed to get away from this house.
Shouting from the oversized front porch had me turning around to see what was happening. The two men were pointing at me, one of them on the phone and the other bounding down the steps to give chase.
I pushed off the tree trunk and fought through the weight of the dread curse to make my feet move. I was in shape and even enjoyed running, but right now, it took everything I had to get to the end of the driveway.
The men were getting closer, and I screamed in frustration as I pushed on. “No!” I shouted into the air. “You will not control me!”
The heavy sensation eased slightly until I could move at a full sprint. The curse definitely wasn’t gone, but it was lighter now. Maybe I was getting the hang of this spell-breaking thing.
“She’s getting away!” the man closest to me shouted, and I smiled. Yes, I was getting away.
I heard a vehicle in the distance so I ran even faster.
Just another hundred yards and I would be free of this place.
The approaching vehicle sent up a plume of dust off to my left, so I hurried the best I could.
The men kept screaming at me and I hoped they wouldn’t resort to using guns.
Did witches use human weapons like that?
I mentally slapped myself and focused on the task at hand. Just a few more steps—something hit me in the back. Not a body, but still an object big enough to crack a rib. I looked behind me and as I did, I saw the rock bouncing away. They’d thrown a fucking rock at me, and it almost took me down.
The vehicle was close now, so I would be a fool to counterattack. But those assholes deserved something. I turned slightly as I broke free of the driveway and flipped them off. And then I stood in the center of the road with my arms out and commanded the old white pickup truck to stop.
It skidded and slid to a halt just inches from my legs.
The older man inside looked as scared as I did, but I needed him to get me out of here.
“Help me!” I screamed, gaze going to my left and back down the driveway where the two men had stopped chasing me.
I didn’t like that little fact, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
“Please,” I asked the man, and he gave me a slight nod as he reached across the cab and popped open the door from the outside. Without saying another word, I rushed inside the stranger's truck and slammed the door shut. “Go! Please just go!” I begged, seeing him looking at me.
To his credit, he didn’t ask me anything. I owed him an explanation, but later.
Right now, I needed him to get me as close to New Orleans as he could.
I needed him to help get me home.