Page 6 of Fatally Yours

Mandy set her chin on her elbow again, twisting a band around her—my heart skipped—ring finger. I hoped to god she wasn’t just bullshitting me earlier about thinking marrying someone serving multiple life sentences for butchering people was a bad idea.

“Uh, that from…” My tongue felt like rubber in my mouth. “Him?” She gave me a smug expression, pulled it off her finger, and pressed it into my outstretched palm. The sun glinted off it as I read the stamp on the inside, indicating it was genuine gold.

“No, I got a new job. Pays three times my last one,” she said smugly.

“In this crappy town? With the way you dress?”

“Damn straight.”

“How the hell did you get a job that good?”

“Turners needed a receptionist, and I stepped in.”

“Damn, and here I am, still working at Chappy’s,” I mused.

We sat for a moment, enjoying the soft breeze and the beaming sun.

Mandy reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

She flipped open the box and placed one between her lips, handing me another.

I reached across the table lazily and took it.

She sparked up the end, then gave it to me. I took in a breath and felt a calm consume me. That was better than thinking about how gloomy I was. She turned to me, plucking the cigarette from her mouth.

“Well, if you don’t want to leave Devin, then maybe you can show him you appreciate him. Say something cheesy like, ‘I know it’s been tough, but I appreciate you sticking by me.’ Just feed him some bullshit, so he’ll stop being an ass. You know how guys are.”

“Maybe,” I echoed, staring off into the distance and watching the smoke waft from the end of my cigarette. It was a habit I hoped to avoid, but since August passed, I had given up many of my convictions, like dating Devin.

What Mandy said struck a chord with me. I should at least try because, despite what August said, he didn’t live forever, and he wasn’t coming back. Even though I would do anything to return him to me—sell my soul, degrade myself, live on the streets—nothing could ever restore his life.

Once again, I felt my throat closing up, and Mandy looked at me.

She reached into her purse and pulled out the book she purchased that life-changing day— Black Magick Rituals and Spells.

I wished my memories of that time were just us finding it and joking about how ridiculous it was.

She dropped it on the table, making me jump.

“I didn’t want to bring this up while the wound was fresh, but I think you need to see this.” Before I could think of something to say, she flipped it open. “This book talks about bringing people back from the dead,” she declared. My lips thinned.

“Don’t fuck with me like that.”

“I’m not fucking with you!” She stopped on a page.

“Look.” She pressed her finger to a lengthy list of items and an even longer explanation of how to achieve such an atrocity.

My eyes fell on the words. A mirror, powders, blood, and more were listed.

My stomach turned as I suppressed the urge to retch.

She had said and done a lot of ridiculous things, but trying to bring August back from the dead was another level of insanity I didn’t think she was capable of.

“We need candles and herbs and blood, and I need to memorize these words, and we need four people, and there’s more than four of us—”

“You’re being even more crazy than normal. You can’t bring someone back from the dead with some stupid spell from a mass market book,” I said harshly. Mandy shook her head and closed the book. Then I noticed there were no publishing logos, bar codes, or even an author.

“This isn’t some widely produced joke book, Tash,” she replied.

“I went to the library and couldn’t find anything on it.

I think someone made it or something. Maybe that old dude really did pull it from the trash.

” I rolled my eyes. Did she really believe this crap?

Even if it wasn’t mass-produced, surely it was all a prank.

“Well, if someone made it, they did it to bullshit people.”

“No, listen. I did some spells in here—”

“You did not.”

“I did. And they worked. I got a better job, and Mark asked me to marry him.”

“Those are just coincidences.” Even though I was trying to convince her otherwise, something in me wanted to cling to the hope that we could do something that fantastical.

What would he even look like? Would he be filled with holes from where maggots ate at his flesh?

Or would he appear like he was sleeping?

But even through the wax and makeup, he didn’t look right.

When I saw him in that casket, I knew that it wasn’t August—just the vessel that previously held him.

“You think so?” she asked. “A spell for wealth, a spell for love, and I get both within weeks of casting them?”

“Y-you’re crazy,” I stuttered. I couldn’t help the tremble in my voice.

There was something to it, wasn’t there?

She hadn’t ever had a decent job. Nothing that could support buying a gold ring.

And a ruthless killer loving her so much that he would ask for her hand in marriage?

Sure, it happened on occasion, but it still baffled me that I knew someone who was experiencing it.

“What’s the harm in trying?” she asked. “It’s not like we’re gonna desecrate his grave or anything. Just burn some candles, mix some herbs, chant some words—”

“Cut ourselves.”

“—Well, yeah, that too. But we’re not doing any harm to August or anyone else.”

“I don’t know, dude. I’m just not sure,” I said. She placed her hand on mine as our eyes met. My shoulders fell. She really believed in this, didn’t she?

“Tash, I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t think it would work,” she pleaded. “ I only want the best for you. I want my best friend back. Things haven’t been the same since…” She stopped herself, and I swore I heard her voice crack.

His death hurt her as well, but I was too focused on myself to notice.

If August were alive, we could all go back to normal.

I wouldn’t be sad, Mandy wouldn’t have to be my crutch and have to grieve in silence, and the police wouldn’t have to suspect us of wrongdoing anymore.

And Devin… well, he would have to deal with it.

By this point, I didn’t know why he kept me around. Maybe he would feel guilty for leaving me because, with his behavior, I didn’t think he even loved me anymore. I was too much of a burden, a prude, an inconvenience—all things he called me before.

“I think we’re going to have a hard time convincing Scott and Wes,” I said after an excruciating silence.

“You don’t want Devin to help?” she smirked. I gave her a pointed look. She knew exactly why I didn’t want him involved.

“I don’t want him to know . ”