The Final Catch: Book 3: See Jane Spell (The Final Catch: A Tarot Sorceress Series) (8 page)

Glendie caught up to me.  Her customer was gone and the bank was again empty. “How did it go?”

I opened my hand to reveal his key. Glendie gave me a conspiratorial look which surprised me because she was always a do-gooder.  I began to wonder if that sunburst pin helped her be the good soul she normally was. Together we headed back towards the safety deposit boxes.

*

Glendie and I slid out Barkman’s container and examined its contents. Glendie’s diamond brooch shone brightly amongst his collection of precious skull rings, earrings and tons of other stuff.

I took the brooch from the box and pinned it to Glendie’s lapel. “There you go, Sunshine.”

Glendie stroked her pin and she brightened up by ten watts.

*

While Glendie and I worked things out at the bank, Emilia, unbeknownst to us, was still hog tied in a dark, back space behind the filing cabinets of Barkman’s tattoo shop. She said she squirmed around like a grub, trying to find the best position to see from. They’d also gagged her, but she continued to mumble and make sounds in case anyone came in to locate her. Unfortunately, for her, while doing all of her shifting and mumbling, she bumped into a wall, knocked her cell phone out of her pocket then accidentally squirmed into it and hip checked it, sending it shooting away from her. She then had to worm her way over to it and get it working with her nose.  I was impressed with her ingenuity and agility, not bad for a death dealer, who is generally depicted as a walking skeleton holding a scythe. She was proving to be no such creature.

*

The clock on the wall read 7 pm. The bank finally closed.  I did my final tallies for the night then locked up the wicket. Glendie had finished her counting long before me because she knew what she was doing. I picked up my purse and jacket and headed into the ladies room, where I knew Glendie had gone.

In the washroom I headed into a stall. I didn’t see Glendie, so I guessed she must still be in the vault counting something. I changed my clothes and zipped up my pants, tucked in my blouse and ruminated on the crazy day -- Boss Ross caught us with our clothes undone and then Barkman arrived and cast his spell on me, revealing his odd collection, and then he asked me on a date, kind of.  I wondered if Glendie was really going to go to the afterhours ‘party’ at the Voo-Toos. I heard the washroom door open. I peeked between the cracks and saw Glendie come in. I stayed really quiet and watched my mysterious friend.

I’m glad I did because she transformed before my eyes. She carefully removed her mundane teller’s uniform and tucked it all neatly away into a zippered hanging bag. From another large hand bag she pulled out a leather jacket, jeans and a pair of docs. She put herself all together and transformed from the librarian of Alexander to the Goth of Notre Dame.

The last thing she did was pin her sun burst brooch under her leather jacket, so it couldn’t be seen. She was definitely dressed to party at the tattoo slash biker place --time for me to intercept.

I came out of the stall and surprised the hell of her.

“I thought you were gone.”

“You on your way to the tavern?” I figured she’d start there and wait until the evening got late and then head over to Voo-Toos.

She moved to exit the washroom but I stopped her.

“Wait, you've got a label sticking out.” I pretended to fix it instead I lifted the brooch from her jacket. It was no wonder she’d lost it, it came off easily. I kept it hidden in my closed hand.

“Thanks, Jane. See you tomorrow,” she said.

I stepped in front of her again blocking her exit.

She looked puzzled. “You did well today and it was fun working with you,” Glendie continued.

“Come on. We’re bff’s. Take me with you,” I begged.

“Well, you're Maisie's spy now so that changes things a little between us.”

“Huh?” I was hurt by that.  I’d way rather be loyal to Glendie then Maisie, but I didn’t know how to make that sound convincing to Glendie.  I guess it was the Sun card in Glendie that was in charge now and she didn’t want to go back into the card for any reason, not even for a good cause, like setting me free. “Will you still look after Sia for me when I need you?”

She looked at me and pressed her lips together and looked down, but came up smiling and nodded that she would.

Hurray! I thought.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll do anything for Sia.” Then Glendie stepped around me and out the exit. “He'll hurt you!” I called after her.

But she was already gone.

I opened my hand and looked at the pin. It glowed like a piece of heated uranium in my palm. I grabbed my purse and jacket and headed for the door.

Ross McCarthy waved at me and I blew him a kiss.

*

It was dark out. I hurried after Glendie and in the evening she was easy enough to follow. She exuded an aura that was ridiculously conspicuous. It was only a matter of time before some weirdo became attracted to it.

*

As I tracked her down the back lanes it became obvious that she was moving at an inhuman clip. Unable to keep up to the woman, I reached for my cell.

*

She was still close enough that I could hear her cell go off as my call came through. She answered.

“Yes?”

“Wait for me,” I said, feeling a little out of breath.

“Why?”

I paused a moment then --

“I've got your pin.”

Glendie waited for me under a bright street lamp. She touched the empty spot on her blouse. Even though she was way off in the distance I saw her and through the phone heard her sigh as she sagged against the chain link fence in the lane, as if she’d been zapped of some of her energy once she realized the pin was once again gone. The dark seemed to affect her energy level. I couldn’t help smiling and staring at the bedazzling brooch.

“Wait for me there, Glendie. I’ll bring it to you.”

I fished through my purse and pulled out the golden handcuffs taken from the time I’d captured Justine and returned her to the deck.

I hung up on Glendie and quickly called Emi...

*

The cell at Emi’s end continued to ring unanswered. “Where the hell are you?” I asked the ethers. I stood in the twilight lane waiting for Emi to answer and became very impatient when I realized that wasn’t going to happen….

“Come on, Emi! I need help capturing Glendie!”

“Damn it!” I gave up and pocketed my phone.

*

It took awhile but I finally caught up to little Ms. Sunshine. I huffed and puffed because I had to jog a little. “Thanks for waiting,” I said, but it looked as if she hadn’t any choice. I don’t think walking away was an option for her.

Glendie leaned against the fence. She seemed weak and despondent. I could see tavern in the background and I got suspicious.  I wondered if Barkman had invited Glendie there, too, for a beer. Glendie reached out to me.  Her hand on my shoulder felt weak and light, like a sick bird.

“What's the matter?” I placed a hand on top of hers for reassurance.

“My brooch. No energy.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”  She looked bad.

I took out the handcuffs and locked her to the fence. I really hated to do it, but I couldn’t think of anything else.  If I gave her the brooch, she’d have her superhuman energy back and I’d never keep up to her. She’d get Barkman all to herself.  I wouldn’t mind sharing him but Glendie seemed to have a possessive streak that I’d never known until now. Plus, I needed to put her back into the deck until I could figure out how to get the real Glendie back.

“How long do you need the sunburst to be restored back to normal?” I asked.

“At night, like now, I need it the whole time,” she wheezed out.

“What if you don't have it?”

Glendie grew weaker, before my very eyes, nearly unable to talk.

“Not sure.” She choked on the words.

Then Glendie slipped from consciousness. I pulled out the sunburst and held it near her. She recovered a bit, but not enough to talk.

I called Maisie.

*

“Maisie! Glendie's hanging from the fence. She looks hung over, but, actually, I took her pin and that made her sick, or something,” I shouted into the cell. I panicked.

“She'll be fine. She's sleeping. Let her be. I will come get her. Wait for me there,” Maisie said, like she was giving me a grocery list. 

I ended the call and pocketed Glendie’s sunburst. “You'll be fine,” I said to her. She looked like she was having a nice dream.

Glendie was either too weak or too sound asleep to respond.  The Black and Blue Tavern called to me, so I headed in that direction. I figured Maisie would arrive any minute to deal with Glendie. I hate to say it, but I left her there, cuffed to the fence. I made sure she was comfortable by giving her a couple of garbage cans to sit on.

A Singed Sensit

It was about 8:30 by the time I got to the B & B tavern.  The place was dingy. It really wasn’t my kind of hang out. It made the Wild Swan look like Caesar’s Palace. I spotted Barkman right away. He sat alone, drinking a beer. I had a strong urge to go over and sit with him, but instead, I sat at an empty table and watched him for a while. As far as the music went, it was a Madonna night of musical festivity, but there weren’t a lot of people in the place, so the dance floor was empty. They played videos on a small screen.

Compelled by the song “Hung Up”, I got up from my clandestine table and began to dance across the sparsely populated floor.  Madonna always made me feel erotic in a funny and gimmicky kinda way.

I noticed they had a pole in the middle of the floor for those who felt fit and brave. I slithered and wiggled up to it and did a few spins, nothing too crazy because I didn’t have my ‘special’ dance thong on. When I looked over at him I had Barkman’s attention. He was looking at me with interest.

I wrapped the pole with my leg and did a few spin moves that exposed my abdomen. He gave me a small grin and nodded me over to join him, but I did a few more moves and then took my time dancing my way over.  Once our eyes made contact we never looked anywhere else. By the time I got to his table he’d removed his jacket and exposed his sleeve of tattoos on his arms, shoulders and neck.

When I finally sat down, he moved in really tight and lit a cigarette.

“Ever seen a match burn twice?” he asked.

I wasn’t much of a pyromaniac, I didn’t catch on. “No.”

Barkman touched my arm with the blackened end of the wooden match stick and I flinched.

“That's hot and not in a good way,” I said, giving the spot on my arm a little rub.

He gave me the cigarette he lit and I took it.  I took a nice long drag of it and the smoke tasted good.

He pulled out his box of match sticks.

“Do you trust your eyes?” he asked.

“Is this gonna hurt?” I was a little more wary this time.

He took out two match sticks. Held them between his thumb and forefingers, and showed me that they weren’t able to pass through each other, one sticking blocking the other. Then he performed a magic trick by passing the match sticks through each other and back. It was a clever trick and got me wondering how he did it.

He tapped me on the nose, like he was trying to wake me up.

“It's all about the angle,” he said, grinning wildly.  For some reason that I can’t explain, his smile reminded me of Sia. It had that same genuine and deeply gut gripping appeal and seemed to last just a little too long. I stared at his beautiful smile until I felt myself returning the grin.

Then I said, “You’re a magician and you’re not supposed to give away your secrets.”

Then Barkman leaned in real close. His arm rubbed against me and
omg.
When he touched me with those tattoos it was insane. I writhed and squirmed like a worm sprinkled with salt. The pain and agony were excruciating, burning and yet darkly orgasmic. As much as I wanted to move away from him, at the same time I wanted more of Barkman. I wanted to engulf him, consume him. I ran my fingers along his neck.

He loved it. He bowed his head and let me run my fingers and hand right up into his scalp. He seemed to be experiencing the same agony and ecstasy. “You're a sensit,” he said. I got really close to his ear and whispered to him.

“What’s that?”

He turned his face to me and locked his cat hazel eyes on me.

“Ride with me?”

I couldn’t believe the sound I made next, a strange kind of pleasure moan. I was trying to say yes, but it kept coming out as a sound, a deep guttural expression of pleasure, and as I scratched his neck, extracting the stories and pain and pleasures from the pictures on his skin, our eyes met, and I said, “Yes.” But I didn’t move, couldn’t move. I wanted to make love to the man right there at the bar. I was breathless, reckless and in the kind of deep pain I’d only felt after an injury, when it throbs relentlessly.

And then he kissed me.

Barkman grabbed my hands and pulled me from the bar stool. He held me up as I staggered from the Black and Blue as if I was one of their regular drunks, and I hadn’t even had a drink!

*

I snuggled in close to the nice soft leather of his jacket.  I closed my eyes and thought of myself as the luckiest female in the world at the moment. Holding on tight to the beefcake Barkman, riding on the back of his big bike. I was a free spirit heading in whichever direction I chose. The power of the bike between my legs and the strong man between my arms made me dizzy. While the bike hummed all around me, I ran the evening’s events through my mind. I didn’t want to think about what I had done to Glendie, so I let that part of the evening slide.

*

I came out of my swooning stupor, slowly, and as I did I noticed the sword strapped to the side of his bike. “Emi…”

We arrived at the tattoo shop by the back lane. As we pulled up to park, the light from the street lamp twinkled on Emilia’s sword still lashed securely to his Harley.

I didn’t speak again. Barkman put his arm around me. It was less an embrace of affection and more a tight hold of control to maneuver me down some dark stairs and through an old metal delivery door in the underground portion of the tattoo building. I hesitated, but not for long because Barkman hustled me on through the door.  

“Are we going to a party?”

He grinned and pushed me through.

*

With his arm still tightly around me, Barkman moved me into the dimly lit basement that had a few old couches and a table covered in beer bottles. Music played loudly but I wasn’t able to determine the source. It came from another room, deep in the dark basement lit only by candles.

Barkman led me into another room, one that had a few people sitting around. The smell of pot saturated the place. People at the far end of this room were partying a bit, dancing, drinking and engaged in tete a tete conversation. 

Oddly enough I recognized a woman sitting on an old sagging couch. She was Jamie Card, from the triple X shop, the one that had let me hang the poster of my missing Sia. Here she really looked like a biker chick.  I thought she was about sixty when I saw her in the shop, but I found out from her that she was only in her mid forties.

Barkman let me go and headed for Jamie. They exchanged a deep tongue tangling kiss.

When Barkman released Jamie, he grabbed me and shoved me to the couch right beside her.

“This is Jane,” he said to Jamie.  She didn’t seem to remember me at all. “Where's Mac?” Barkman asked.

“Mac's in the kitchen.”

“Watch her. I like this one. She's a sensit.” He chucked me under the chin, like I was a kid. I was so disappointed. I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that Barkman really wasn’t that interested in me. He wanted me here for some reason. When he told Jamie that I was a sensit, she gave me a second look, like she was amused by this knowledge, but also like she felt sorry for me.

“You feel the tattoos? Barkie brought you here cuz you feel them. You find your kitten?” she asked.

She did remember me!

I shrugged at her like it was no big deal, but truthfully I didn’t know what she meant by the tattoos and me being a sensit.  Then Barkman came back to us, grinning. He sat between us. I became apprehensive. Something about this place had my senses on full alert, and then I remembered that I had something in my purse that could help me.

I rooted around in there a minute or two and let my hand rest on a canister of hairspray. “I still need to find Sia. I think she’s in real danger,” I said to Jamie.

“Not going to find her in your purse. Whatcha got there?” Jamie asked. Then reached into my purse and grabbed the canister I held too loosely. She snagged it from me and looked at it.  I tried to get it back, but Jamie was too fast.

“You're hair looks fine, babe,” Barkman said to me.

Then to my shock and horror he reached under my t-shirt and seductively fondled my belly jewel. He quickly removed the jewel then playfully fastened it to his ear lobe.

“Hey, Mac!” He yelled as he got up and went away again.

I watched Barkman go and when he busted through the kitchen door, I caught a good look at 'Mac'.

“Devon Raker!”

“Who's that?” Jamie asked me.

“Mac, his real name is Devon. Someone I know,” I said. I didn’t bother to remind her of the day he licked the triple X window!

“Oh, yeah, well, I don’t think Mac’s a sensit,” she said.

“Yeah. How do you know he’s not a sensit?” I asked pretending I knew what she was talking about.

“Tattoos don’t bother him. Sensits get bugged by the tattoos.”

“Bugged?”

“Bothered, you know, uncomfortably high.”

“Are you a sensit?” I asked her.

“No. You gotta be Cheshire.”

“What? Can you tell me more?

“If you’re Chesh –“

“Chesh?”

“Uh,huh. Means you’ve got a predisposition to the cats, Cheshire ones. If you’re not ‘attuned’ to them then you’re allergic to them.”

“Sure.”

“If you’re not allergic then that means you’re magical. And if you’re magical there’s a chance you’re a sensit – which you are – and –”

“But, they seem like not very good people. I thought the Cheshire society was – good, you know like philanthropic, or something?”

Jamie laughed, exposing her poor dental work. She took a swig of her beer. She offered me one, and I accepted. I needed a drink. I wished there was something stronger than a beer, but I happily gulped down hers.

“What’s so special about their ink?” I asked between gulps.

“Hard to get. It’s got to come from a cat – “

I choked on my gulp. I coughed and coughed until I nearly puked. “Say again?”

“Yeah, you alright?”

I nodded quickly. “Tell me that again, sorry I coughed and didn’t catch it.”

“This ink is magical. It comes from a Cheshire cat.”

“How? What part of the cat?” I asked, trying to hide my horror.

“Blood, of course. Don’t you know anything? That’s why you’re here isn’t it? To get a tattoo, so you won’t be so sensitive in the mundane world? And you can continue to live in it without having to go back to the Cheshire dimension.”

“But wait, I didn’t spend time in the Cheshire world,” I said in protest.

“Yeah, ya did, or you wouldn’t be a sensit. If you’re a sensit that means you’ve had contact with a Cheshire and you’ve spent some time in that animal’s dimension and you have magical ability. If not then you’re just allergic to the critters. Going into Sia’s dimension made you very sensitive to certain things in your own dimension. Careful – if you spend too much time with your precious Cheshire in her dimension you’ll start to turn.”

“Turn?”

“Into one.”

“A cat?”

“Not
a cat
, a
Cheshire cat
. They were people, once, women actually. It’s a very slow process. That’s why they all sound so old and wise when you hear them speak.”

“Are you telling me that Theodosia used to be a woman and has now become a cat?”

“Yup.”

“You know this from your own experience, Jamie?”

She took a couple of sips of beers and looked at me a long time, like she needed to consider how to answer that question.

Jamie was kind enough to offer another beer. But this time when I accepted it, she rubbed her tattooed arm along my bare arm as she handed me the beer. “Aaaaaah! Don't ever do that!”
Omg, I thought I was burning
, and the pain and agony wouldn’t stop. It overwhelmed me. There was very little of the ‘good’ feelings I got when Barkman rubbed his tats against me.  Jamie’s were all horrible, as if they gave me an anaphylactic allergic reaction.  They made me itch!

“You are a sensit,” Jamie said, sounding awed.

“Oh, god, oh, mmm, aww, I can't take it, make it stop!” I began to writhe in reaction to the contact with Jamie's tattoos.

“When you get blood-inked with a Cheshire cat’s blood then you won’t have that problem anymore. You’ll be able to handle the touch of any tattoo.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to take Sia’s blood.”

“They don’t mind as long as you leave them enough to carry on.”

I began a crazy, writhing dance. It made the pain go away if I moved, and the more I moved and the faster, the less pain I felt. Unfortunately, my activity drew a crowd. In particular a big, burly, bald guy, named Gas who sat beside Jamie. He rubbed against me with his tattooed arms and hands. He even gently burrowed his bald tattooed head into my shoulder. He seemed to delight in my painful ecstasy.

“Stop. Help me!” I yelled at him. I cringed and cowered from this guy. And that’s when I began to hallucinate.

The tattoo pictures on his body came to life in the room. They danced over me, touching me and left a film of pain that burned. I tried rubbing it off but that didn’t work. The emotions packed into the inked pictures drilled into my heart and my brain. I sounded like a madwoman as I cried and laughed, shouted and screamed, and danced around the room. The most terrifying of these animated tattoos were the demons that floated by me gnashing their teeth like something out of a Tim Burton film, only they weren’t cute in any way.