Love Potion #9 (35 page)

Lilith's heart stopped at the sight of it, then began to race. She stared at the card from the threshold of the living room, reluctant to draw any closer to it, and felt the blood drain from her face.

An Italian village square, its corners haunted with the shadows of twilight, loomed in her mind with sudden clarity.

Lilith thought about plane crashes, car accidents, hotel bombings and elevators dropping like stones. Flukes of nature, and earthquakes and rivers rising, jumped into her mind. She thought about noble-minded men dashing into burning buildings to save children, and pedestrians being mowed by drunken drivers just for stepping off the curb.

Lilith's stomach rolled at the realization that there were a wealth of nasty possibilities that could keep Mitch from ever coming back again.

But she couldn't lose her true love again! It wouldn't be fair; it wouldn't be right. Mitch couldn't be stolen away from her, not after all this time, not after all she had done, not after all the hurdles they had leapt together. They were close, tantalizingly close to making a commitment to each other - the Fates couldn't cheat Lilith again.

Or at least she wouldn't just stand by and watch.

Lilith stormed into the room and tried to pick up the card. She tried to turn it over and make it go away.

But she couldn't get a grip on the card. It seemed to be stuck to the table and clung there with a force she couldn't undermine. Lilith couldn't lift it from the table - she couldn't even slide her nail underneath it.

Its stubbornness made her panic. Lilith scrabbled at the card, then turned her attention to the next one. She tried to force things to move on, understanding that there was much more at stake her than the inexplicable flipping of cards.

But she couldn't turn over the next one either.

Lilith sat down with a thump, pressed her fingertips to her temples, and took a trio of deep breaths. She sternly told herself to get a grip.

She focused on the card. It didn't always literally mean death and Lilith knew that, as little consolation as that was.

The Death card could mean transformation, change, a shift in viewpoint. It could mean metamorphosis. She tried the cards one more time but they all were apparently sealed in place.

And Lilith knew there was only one way to make them move.

Something had to happen.

Something had to
change
.

Okay. If there had to be transformation for the cards to move on, then Lilith would engineer some changes around here. She was a can-do kind of witch, after all. She would short-circuit the cards, whatever their intent might be.

A feline yowl carried from the yard in that moment, followed by a wolfhound's low bark. Lilith straightened and looked to the kitchen. She could take a hint, she thought with a smile, and knew exactly what her first change was going to be.

 

* * *

 

If D'Artagnan wondered why he was being given his very favorite salmon at a strange time of the morning and for no obvious reason at all, he didn't show it. In fact, he practically inhaled the unscheduled meal, then sat back, burped inelegantly and began to clean himself with satisfaction.

Lilith smiled, knowing he hadn't even tasted her little amendment. She waited until his eyes started to droop, then scooped him up and headed next door.

D'Artagnan squirmed drowsily at the sight of Mitch's back gate, evidently guessing where Lilith was going but not having the fight to do much about it. She could get used to him being mellow like this, but knew the herbal addition to his meal would wear off in an hour or so.

For the moment, D'Artagnan was uncharacteristically placid, which was exactly what Lilith needed.

Cooley wagged with enthusiasm when Lilith opened the gate, his gaze sharpening when he spied the cat. He sniffed excitedly and Lilith put D'Artagnan down right under his nose. She held her breath hoping that familiarity would breed a lack of interest.

The cat wobbled slightly and shook his head. Cooley sniffed on full power, circling the dazed cat with evident fascination. He drew near warily, ducking and weaving until he was certain he wouldn't be clawed. When the dog sniffed D'Artagnan's ears, always a sensitive spot, the cat half-heartedly tried to bat the dog's nose away.

The move made D'Artagnan lose his balance. He sat down with a thump and hissed at the dog, though the gesture lacked his usual vehemence. His tail was already starting to flick with displeasure.

Abruptly, Cooley's curiosity was satisfied. He considered the cat only a moment longer before wandering off to explore more interesting matters in the garden. D'Artagnan straightened clumsily and stared after the dog. His tail waved like a banner, his ears stood up, he mewed loudly. Lilith had the distinct impression that he was insulted to have lost the dog's attention.

D'Artagnan yowled but Cooley barely even looked back. The cat ran a few uneven steps, he puffed out his tail and hissed in a more typical manner. The dog collapsed on the back porch, stunningly indifferent, and nosed out something that had gotten into his paw.

D'Artagnan glanced accusingly to Lilith and she could only smile. Just as she had hoped, Cooley had only wanted a good sniff. Now that he had had one, there was no curiosity to satisfy. The cat tiptoed closer and boldly batted the dog on the nose, as though challenging him back to the chase. D'Artagnan ran a few uneven steps, glancing back in consternation when he was not pursued.

Cooley wagged his tail, then dropped his chin to his paws with a noisy sigh and started to snore.

The cat's tail dropped. He seemed so uncertain as to what to do that Lilith laughed aloud.

One change made with resounding success. Lilith let herself into the kitchen and began a quick survey of the house, considering all the while what could be done.

Then, she headed to the paint store, more than ready to make a little transformation of her own.

Mitch had asked for her help, after all.

 

* * *

 

Jen awakened in the night with the dreadful certainty that her daddy wasn't there. She clutched Bun to her chest and felt her little heart go pit-a-pat.

She was alone.

Jen bit her lip, she blinked back her tears. She had promised Daddy that she would be a big girl, that she wouldn't get scared, that she would be good for Lillit.

But it was hard to do in the middle of the night. The shadows loomed large around Jen's bed, the darkness in the corners were deep enough to hide any kind of spooky thing. She was suddenly quite sure that there was a monster under the bed. Jen rolled into a little ball and felt the first tear slide down her cheek.

She was all alone.

It was really scary, yet she couldn't help straining her ears. Jen hoped she wouldn't hear that monster breathing, she didn't want to know for sure he was there, didn't want to suspect that he was hungry for tasty little girls. But she listened all the same.

And that was when Jen heard the music.

It was coming from the kitchen.

The kitchen, where Lillit was.

And Lillit, Jen was sure, would know exactly what to do about monsters.

Jen grabbed Bun tight, afraid he would be eaten if she left him behind. She jumped as far out of the bed as she could, almost certain the monster would reach out and grab her as soon as her feet hit the floor.

He was too slow, though, that monster. Jen made the door, her breathing fast, and bolted for the stairs. To her relief, she could see the golden light spilling from the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs.

Light and music, Lillit and safety.

Jen hoped she could get there before the monster snatched her up.

 

* * *

 

The Beatles were singing that all you needed was love and Lilith was painting up a storm. She couldn't go to sleep without being certain that Mitch was safe, she couldn't stray from the phone and risk missing a call. She certainly couldn't turn off the radio and not hear the news every hour. So, she painted and she sang.

It was just past two, the darkness was pressing against the windows, and the streets were silent, when Lilith turned around to find a very distraught little girl in the kitchen doorway. There were tears on Jen's cheeks and Bun was caught in a headlock.

Lilith immediately dropped to her knees beside Jen, surprised when the little girl cast herself into her arms without hesitation.

“I was all alone!” Jen wailed, but Lilith held her close. She felt the child's heart fluttering in fear.

“You weren't alone,” Lilith whispered. “I'm right here.” Jen sniffled, apparently encouraged by that, and Lilith made Bun dance a little bit. “And you had Bun to keep you company.”

“He's scared of monsters, too.”

“Monsters?” Lilith let her eyes widen, knowing exactly the demon that Jen was fighting tonight. “There's no monsters here. Your daddy kicked them all out of the house.”

Jen eyed her solemnly. “There's a big one, right under my bed. He came back 'cause Daddy's gone.”

“Well, we can't have that!” Lilith said firmly. “We're going to go up there and tell that monster to get right out from under your bed and go home to his own.”

Jen bit her lip and frowned. “But he'll eat you up.”

“No, he won't.” Lilith dropped her voice to a whisper. “Because I know a secret about monsters.”

Jen's eyes went round and she whispered back. “A secret?”

Lilith nodded. “Monsters are
scared
of love. You see, when you love someone, or they love you, you're never alone. And monsters can't get you.”

Jen thought about this, too busy thinking to remember to cry. “I love Bun,” she offered.

“Oh, that must be why you're safe.” Lilith heaved a sigh of relief. “And your daddy loves you, and your Nana loves you, too. Why, that monster hasn't got a chance! Once he knows about all that love, he'll just disappear.” Lilith snapped her fingers. “Poof!”

Jen visibly brightened at this news. “We could sing him the Barney song,” she suggested. “That's about love.” Lilith's confusion must have shown because Jen patted her hand. “Don't you know the Barney song?”

Lilith had to admit she didn't.

Jen scrambled to her feet with purpose and took Lilith's hand, as though Lilith was the one who had come running in tears. It was funny how many of Andrea's gestures the little girl mimicked. She dragged Lilith toward the stairs. “I'll teach you and we can sing it together.”

Fortunately, the Barney song was not overly complicated. By the time they reached Jen's bedroom the pair of them were singing it together. As they sat on the bed and sang it three more times, Lilith noticed that they weren't alone.

D'Artagnan had trailed behind them. He jumped onto the end of Jen's bed, kneaded the cover to his satisfaction, then curled up to sleep.

He threw Lilith a glance that dared her to comment on his choice and she knew better than to say anything at all. By the time Lilith turned out the light and left Jen slumbering, it was clear that the little girl had a bright-eyed champion more than ready to defend her from any monster foolish enough to slide under the bed.

Another change, credited to Jen's charming of the crusty D'Artagnan. Who would have guessed that the independent cat would melt for a little girl?

Lilith paused in the hall to listen and heard Jen's breathing slow. Maybe Jen could get over being afraid to be alone. That would make another change. Lilith decided to mix up some Monster Repellant to let Jen mix into the paint when they did her room the next day, just to help things along.

Because Lilith knew the mystic power of threes. She had made two transformations, but her Gift warned her that there was going to be a third.

She hoped it could be the conquering of Jen's fear. Lilith returned to her painting, keeping one ear tuned to the news, and hoped that Mitch would come home safely.

Until then, all she could do was keep busy. Fortunately, she wasn't likely to run out of painting anytime soon.

This was one transformation that was going to take a while.

 

* * *

 

Mitch felt like hell.

Three days of lectures and networking and being away from home had beat the stuffing out of him. His mind was swimming with possibilities and trends, opportunities and considerations. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet to sort them out. And he wanted to know how everyone was doing at home.

Oh, he had called a couple of times, smiled at the kids' stories and warmed to the sound of Lilith's voice, but tonight a phone call just wouldn't do. When a group of old cronies settled in to drink on Sunday afternoon, Mitch decided enough was enough. He blew off the last day of meetings, called the airline and changed his flight.

Eight hours later - after an excruciating wait at O'Hare that he roundly deserved for changing his flight schedule - he was scooping up his garment bag at Pearson and jingling his keys as he headed for the Honda.

Home.

And Lilith.

Mitch couldn't get there fast enough.

 

* * *

 

The house was quiet when Mitch unlocked the kitchen door, although the light was still on in the kitchen. It smelled like paint and there was a can of flat ceiling latex open on the counter. The radio was on at a low volume, some sixties ballad echoing softly through the house. Cooley yawned and stretched before getting up to wander across the kitchen to greet Mitch, tail wagging sleepily.

Mitch scratched the dog's ears with a grin. “Some killer watchdog,” he teased. “You didn't even wake up until I was in the house.”

He put the lid on the paint while Cooley took a pause outside. Mitch locked the kitchen door, turned out the light and left his bags in the hall. He heard the wolfhound collapse under the kitchen table as he climbed the stairs.

The smell of paint was stronger up here, though the windows were all open. He looked in first on Jen and smiled when he found her smiling in her sleep. D'Artagnan, surprisingly, was curled on the end of Jen's bed. He lifted his head and treated Mitch to a cold glare as Mitch entered the room.