Tempting the Light: Legends and Myths Police Squad (L.A.M.P.S. Book 1) (20 page)

“Maybe the more you shift your body gets used to it,” Ottar added.

“Well, too bad we won’t find out, because in a few days the curse will be gone.” Abby’s gaze held steady on the footage, and she raised her chin. One side of her mouth formed a smirk.

“Will it be tough to find the ingredients?” River had never performed a spell before, and he was kind of curious. He also wanted to help her just in case something happened.

“I need a candle, but I don’t want to go to that same store that sold me the faulty candle last time.” Abby had her palm up and picked at her thumbnail with her ring finger.

River frowned for a moment. “Oh, I have to tell you something. Ottar and I watched the recording of when you performed your first spell. When you were dancing, I saw your foot break the circle of salt.”

Abby looked like someone ripped the head off her favorite toy and tossed it into a fire. “You’re freaking kidding me?”

“Nope. I got that one saved if you want to see it,” Ottar offered too eagerly.

“No. I take your word.” She sat in a chair and her bottom lip jutted out before she composed herself and picked up the journal.

His boss leaned against the file cabinet. “I remember a strange mist hovering around the circle. What was that all about?”

“I bet it was that damn tampon genie,” Abby said, and crossed her arms.

Ottar looked to River.

“It’s a long story.” He waved him off.

Abby reached out and touched his arm. “Am I free to go? I want to try to read the whole book before we try anything. I can’t screw it up this time. There’s too much at stake.”

“Sure. Just don’t leave town.” River gave her his best almost kidding smile. If she couldn’t remove the curse, he would have to turn her over to L.A.M.P.S. His stomach knotted and crashed at the thought.

“Fine,” Abby said and collected her books.

She and Pepper left the station.

“I’m going to leave in a few hours for the Eastern Headquarters. So, any questions you have for him, you better ask now.” Ottar walked over the Gnome’s cell.

“We need to find the cave where he stored the treasure.”

“Well, hell this could be fun.” Ottar pulled out a knife and a pipe cutter.

Chapter 30

Abby sat on the couch in Pepper’s living room. Kazoo jumped on her lap and licked her face with his soft tongue.

“I missed you too.” She laughed and rubbed his belly.

“I’m so glad you’re all right.” Pepper sat down next to her.

“My chest is sore where River shot me.” Pain sliced between her boobs when she rubbed her breastbone.

“He shot you?”

“Yes. With his tranquilizer gun. Didn’t you see it on the footage?”

“Not really. I did see him raise his gun but there was a lot of commotion.”

“Yeah, well I don’t remember any of it. All I know is this spot hurts and he confessed.”

“I can’t say I blame him. But still, thanks for wearing the collar. For me, getting to see a Jersey Devil’s view of the woods and flying in the sky was awesome.” Pepper gave her a small hug.

“Thanks for getting it for me.” She patted Pepper on the back.

Pepper pulled away. “I have a major list of things I need to do. I’ll see you later.” She kissed Kazoo’s head. “You too, little one.”

Abby picked up her grandmother’s journal with the details of the spell in it and started reading from the beginning.
This is going to be an interesting read
.

The journal started out like any everyday normal young girl’s diary would.
David is so handsome
. Her grandmother’s first line was etched in ink, in perfect cursive.

“My gosh. Was she twelve when she wrote this?” She flipped through the next few pages until she found the date of her grandmother’s twenty-fifth birthday. She let out a long deep exhale from her nose.

The legend lived on from one of my ancestors about a man named Ethan Davenport who succumbed to the wiles of a vixen named Audrey. My great-great-great-grandmother couldn’t help herself—it was true love, after all. But the woman who he’d betrayed apparently didn’t appreciate Ethan, a fine catch of the day, being snatched away from her. She visited some gypsies and paid them to place a curse on her. She asked that every female and future female in the family to be cursed, but when the gypsy summoned the genie to hex her, he refused. He would only curse the first female born in every other generation. All the women changed into the hideous devil monsters. Most were able to keep it hidden. Most would change on the full moon, which I have done, her grandmother had written. But some changed on the first day of her menstruation.

Abby sighed. “At least I wasn’t singled out,” she said to Kazoo.

According to the journal, the genies thrived on causing trouble for the women they were assigned to curse. The bad luck curse often followed her ancestors from birth.

She huffed. Kazoo growled beside her. She rubbed her furry friend on the head. “Well that explains a lot. Our genie likes to work overtime.” Kazoo howled a concerned whine, and Abby scratched under his chin.

According to her grandmother’s journal most of her relatives lived in secluded areas. The women dealt nobly with their curse until they died.

Her grandmother, on the other hand, refused to live with the curse of morphing into a monster. She befriended a witch and they worked together for years to banish the family curse.

Abby skimmed most of the recipes they logged as failures. “No help at all, Kazoo.” She pulled out her yellow highlighter pen and marked the passages listing ingredients for both summons and banishment of the curse, and the over-imaginative green genie.

An airtight container.

Black, Red, and White candles.

Salt.

Spring water.

Her blood.

The Genie’s name.

A mirror.

She looked into Kazoo’s deep brown eyes. “Well, I know where to get the candles.”

“The spring water on the other hand could be tricky.” She wondered if she could just buy it from the store in a gallon jug. Numerous companies claimed they had natural spring water in their containers. “What if their claims aren’t true?”

Kazoo growled, then yipped in agreement.

“I’ll ask the lady in the spiritual store what I should do. She knew the genie’s name so that was good. Her blood was easy. She had approximately eight pints stored inside of her.

Abby stretched and then strolled to the kitchen. She loved Pepper’s yellow walls and her seventies-style green fern wallpaper. She really did love it here. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat at the table and reviewed her plans.

Removing the curse loomed as her foremost objective.

She wasn’t sure she would include River when she performed the spell.

She didn’t want Pepper there either. According to the journal it could be dangerous if something went wrong. And if Abby’s past history indicated how the spell would go, it would be disastrous.

Maybe she should just live with the curse? Kazoo wound his three-pound body around her legs under the table and whined a lonesome sound.

“Okay, little buddy. That isn’t an option, but I’ll have to do this alone. That’s the only way I can protect our friends. Question is, how in the world do I ditch them?”

River’s tender kisses kept popping into her mind, haunting her. If she lifted the curse, she’d be free to pursue a relationship. Would River even want her now, now that he’d seen her turn into a monster? After she trashed his cop car? After she’d pushed him away so many times? She bit down on her bottom lip.

“I’m not even sure if I want a relationship.” Especially after he shot her.

But she hadn’t thought of Burt once in the past few weeks. Which was a good thing.

She turned her coffee cup around and around on the table.

Her mind still wandered back to the picnic. Her memory conjured the desire of River’s soft strokes along her arm. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands gliding over her skin from the tips of her fingers up to the top of her shoulder.

Shoot.
Thinking about River distracted her.

She needed to do something.

“You stay here and guard the farm, Kazoo. I’m going into town to see if the gift store has those damn candles.”

River cuffed the Gnome to an office chair and double-checked to make sure he couldn’t get loose. Ottar helped him wheel their prisoner behind the police station. They used a pressure washer, some industrial strength soap, and scrubbed the filthy creature with a toilet brush. They spun him in the chair to rinse and dry. The nasty critter screamed his brains out.

River crouched down to the Gnome’s level. “I need to know exactly where the old sheriff’s body and treasure are stashed.

The Gnome giggled and turned his black irises outward from his nose for a walleyed look.

Ottar loomed in the background and made his threatening face at the Gnome for effect.

River cleared his throat to gain the mini-monster’s attention. “We can do this two different ways. You spill everything and we won’t hurt you, or we can start by chopping off your toes and then your fingers. If that doesn’t work, we can hack away at other appendages. What’s it going to be?” He pointed to Ottar who held up different sharp shiny instruments, opening and closing them.

The disgusting Gnome licked his lips leaving a slime trail of saliva stringing between them. He looked back and forth between the agents. “All right. All right. They’re in the cave.”

“Which one?”

“I can show you. If you untie me.” He gave an oily smile revealing brown skanky teeth and nerve endings that resembled black stalactites clinging to his recessed white gums.

“No can do.” River spun him around in the chair.

Ottar held up a machete. The bright sunlight reflected off the blade and cast a gleaming beam across the Gnome’s neck.

“It’s in the woods. Not far from where you captured me. About thirty meters north.” The Gnome spat the words out quickly.

Ottar wrote down the location.

River leaned closer to him. “What about the old sheriff?”

The old Gnome laughed, but his nervous eyes darted around the yard. “He’s in the cave.”

“Is he alive?” He was so done with the pint-sized man. He wanted to flay the little gaming bastard right there.

He shrugged. “A Gnome’s got to eat. So, no.”

A low growl vibrated free from River’s throat. “There will be consequences for killing him.”

The critter shook his head like a dog, and droplets of water pelted River from the Gnome’s earlier spray-down bath.

He kept his stare targeted on him. “How did you find Mrs. Livingston and Thomas?”

The little bastard let out a long dramatic sigh as if he was burdened to tell the story. “I was minding me own business in a Lagan Valley—the forest lies in the Greater Belfast area in Ireland. Anyways, all of the sudden someone bonks me on me head and the lights went out. If ya know what I mean. I woke up in a wooden box, gagged and blindfolded. Then they put me box in a machine that roared and made me ears pop.” He squished his neck down and brought up his shoulders and winced.

“Then, someone picks me up and drives me to the old lady and her spoiled brat of a son. You know . . . I saw him pick his nose and eat it.” The Gnome stuck out his long tubular tongue and coughed. “They drove me to this forest and set me free. They told me if I found them the pirate treasure, they would ship me home. The end.”

River bit down on his lips and wondered if the creature told the truth. “That’s it? Who captured you?”

“Dunna know.” He looked down at his tied feet and flexed them against the ropes.

“Okay.” He wheeled the Gnome, still strapped to the chair, back inside and into the jail cell.

Ottar walked over while River locked the barred door. “Let’s go arrest them.”

Abby found the different colored candles in the home interior store three doors down from Pepper’s Perky Pets. Relieved that she didn’t have to drive all the way back to ‘Blazing Broomsticks’, she scampered down Main Street with the bag of candles in hand.

Thomas pulled up his POS rust-infested Ford on the road next to her, and rolled down the window. “Hey, you need a ride?”

The fine hairs on the back of her ears rose. “Um . . . No. Thanks. It’s a beautiful day. I think I’ll walk.” After seeing the video last night, she didn’t want anything to do with him or his mom.

He parked the car up ahead of her and walked over to confront her. “What’s up, Abby?” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Why are you running away?

“I’m not running away. I’m just really busy.” She jerked her arm back but the stupid creep held on tight. Her brain sent a message to her feet to flee but they remained stuck to the pavement.

“I need you to take a ride with me. Now.” He pulled her in the direction of his car. She turned and swung the sack of candles smacking his chest, but he didn’t let go.

A massive shot of pain burst through the back of her head, her knees collapsed, and her mind darkened.

Abby’s brain was an inferno burning hot enough to melt her skull. Ropes bound her arms in front of her, digging into the soft sensitive flesh of her wrists. A musty stale odor lingered through the air. She dragged open her heavy lids and took in her surroundings. The dark room held rakes, a lawn mower, and other yard maintenance equipment. Wooden beams every foot or so showed in contrast to metallic silver walls. A double garage door took up almost one side of the square shaped area.

“Hey. You’re awake.” Pepper’s voice sounded frail next to her.

Abby snapped her gaze to the side. Pepper was tied up too, sporting a nasty bruised temple. She leaned back against the wall.

“What happened? Why did Thomas do this?”

“My only guess is he figured out River and Ottar were onto him. I think we’re being held for bargaining.”

With a bungee cord tied around her crossed ankles, Abby braced her knuckles on the ground and struggled to sit up. Her head swayed with a woozy feeling. If they ever escaped this mess she vowed to kill Thomas herself. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long.”

She rested her forehead on her knees. “Do you think you can stand?”

“I don’t think so, not with my feet twisted and tied.”

Pulling her feet under her butt, she walked on her knees several steps before she collapsed. She tried again, straining over every inch she covered. “I’m not going to sit here and wait for him to come back.”

Pepper followed her. “Ouch. This concrete is murder on the knee caps.”

They both waddled toward the front of the garage, taking breaks every yard or so, until they finally arrived a few feet from the door.

“Abbadoodle? Any bright ideas on how we can get the door open?”

She sat back on her feet. “No. I guess this wasn’t such a brilliant plan after all.”

“I’m taller than you. Maybe I can reach the door knob.” Pepper brought her hands up, twisted the knob, and tugged on the door. “It’s no use. The door must be locked or nailed shut.”

Abby searched the space for something she could use to pick the lock. Not that she’d ever picked a lock before. That’s when she found a button on the wall that looked like a doorbell.