Page 55 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne
“They represent the four elements of earth, air, fire, and water,” he says. “Now, if you don’t mind, please take my hand and step inside the circle with me.”
“Okay.” I shrug and grip his slender hand, his skin smooth and warm against mine. Together, we step inside the circle and for a second, I could’ve sworn I saw the floor ripple beneath our feet as we crossed the threshold.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Oh.” My eyes widen. “This is just likePractical Magic. You’re Nicole Kidman and I’m Sandra Bullock.”
He sighs heavily. “If it makes you happy. Now quiet, please. I need to concentrate.”
I clamp my lips together and nod. Rolling his eyes, he lets go of my hand and slowly walks around me along the inside of the circle. He’s muttering under his breath and it’s too low for me to make out what he’s saying, but the overhead lights flicker and there’s a strange buzzing in my ears. The air feels like it’s ripe with static electricity and I watch, my mouth falling open, as the candles beneath his outstretched hand burst into flame.
When all of the candles are lit and we’re standing in a circle of light, he returns to the centre, faces me, and takes my hands. All the little hairs on my arms raise and it feels like the wild, curly hair on my head is standing on end.
“Close your eyes, Tristan,” he says and I don’t even think about it, I just obey. “Focus on Dusty. That’s all you need to do, think about her. Leave the rest to me.”
His voice drifts further away and a strange, dreamy lassitude falls over me. My limbs feel so heavy that I would’ve dropped my hands if he hadn’t been holding them. I can hear him murmuring again, low and almost musical. It’s comforting in a strange way. The air feels heavy with something I can’t describe; I can only assume it’s magic. There’s also a strange scent when I breathe in. It’s familiar, something I love. Like the hazy scent of petrichor, the smell of rain on a hot summer’s day.
Suddenly I’m yanked out of my mellow state by a loud yelp followed by a jolting impact as something falls on top of me. I fold up like an accordion and go down heavy, smacking my elbow on the hard floor and twisting my knee at an awkward angle. My skull thuds against the floor and for a moment I’m surprised not to find a tiny circle of acme birds tweeting around my head.
“Ow,” I wheeze.
Somewhat dazed, my brain takes a moment to realise it’s Dusty on top of me while I’m splayed out in the middle of a pentagram of lit candles like a bloody sacrificial lamb. Thank god Detective Byrnes isn’t around to see this.
“What the fuck?” Dusty moans and shifts on top of me. “Tris?” she says, seemingly as confused as I am.
“Wow,” Harrison remarks calmly as he stares down at us both and then back up at the ceiling, which I’m guessing Dusty just fell through from the way he’s studying it. “This place packs quite a punch,” he says wonderingly. “I’ve never had a spell react so powerfully before.”
“So happy for you,” I croak as Dusty and I lie entangled on the floor like we’ve been playing a game of drunken Twister.
Although Dusty is incorporeal to everyone else living, she physically feels like a regular person to me, which I’m assuming is a side effect of our odd connection, which right now is not a bonus considering I’m trapped under her bony six footframe. She finally manages to disentangle herself from me and stumbles to her feet, leaving me winded and sprawled on the ground.
“A little help, please.” I release a breath and Harrison leans down, offering his hand to help me up.
“What happened?” Dusty’s eyes widen as she looks down at the circle. “What the ever-loving fuck is that?”
“Dusty!” Bruce gasps and rushes forward.
“Stop!” Harrison snaps sharply and Bruce freezes and stares at him. “I have to close the circle properly first.”
Not really knowing exactly what he’s doing or why, we all stand patiently as he once again walks the inner edge of the circle. This time Harrison moves in the opposite direction with his hand outstretched. I watch fascinated as he chants quietly and the candles’ flames bank and extinguish themselves.
Once they are fully out, he nods. “Okay, it’s safe now.”
Dusty practically leaps out of the circle into Bruce’s arms and he holds her close.
“I was so worried,” he whispers.
Before I know where to put my eyes, they’re passionately kissing and moaning.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” I begin. “Guys? Guys!!! HEY!” I stick my fingers in my mouth and whistle shrilly.
They break apart and turn to face us while Harrison rubs his ear gingerly.
“Next time you whistle like that, don’t stand so close to me.”
“You got it, Sting.” I turn my attention to Dusty. “Where the hell were you? We’ve been worried. Are you okay?”
Now that I get a good look at her, I can see she’s not her usual put-together glorious self. Her dress is wrinkled, her wig is lopsided, and her makeup is smudged, but most disturbingly, there’s a black symbol etched into the skin of her wrist. It’s large,maybe the size of a plum, but it bears a troubling resemblance to the ones on Viv’s skin.