More Than Flesh & Bone
Chapter 12
RABID STUFFIE
The scene outside my brother's window painted a sinister picture, and it wasn't filling me with warm fuzzies. Especially since I was less than half an hour away from attempting to speak to his ghost. The full moon hung low in the sky and there was a reddish cast, making it appear far too threatening for something that resembled an overripe piece of fruit.
I pushed the curtain the rest of the way open, letting the moonlight stream in to illuminate the makeshift altar behind me. Eliza's book had been sadly lacking in detail about what was required to create a witch's altar, but a quick Google search filled in the blanks. At least, that's what I was banking on. It wasn't exactly like I would know the difference between a legit site or a bullshit one.
After comparing about thirty Wiccan pages, I'd settled on a setup that incorporated only items referenced on all of them. Somehow, I didn't think anyone else used a Versace scarf as the base, but the black and gold silk felt the most witchy out of everything else I'd found still living in teenage Addison's closet.
I was already wincing as I eyed the scarlet pentacle I'd drawn on the center of the scarf in Maneater-red lipstick. I could have used paint, but that would have required potentially alerting Missy, and I didn't want to give my aunt any reason to inspect my handy work. Four unlit candles were set around the pentacle, along with a teacup filled with salt, and another with water. Completing the altar was my "anathema", AKA the steak knife, and Eliza's book.
I hoped it was enough because it was the best I could do.
Now all I could do was wait for the others to get here. Zed had already texted to let me know he was running late. He'd gotten caught up in Zeta Omicron Mus business, but he was on his way and would be here soon. Bree had run downstairs to grab a lighter for the candles, so for the first time since being home, I was alone in Tracey's room.
Butterflies flooded my belly, although that seemed like far too delicate a comparison for the twisting knots in my stomach. Maybe geese would be a more accurate description. Stress geese.
I didn't like being in here… not without him. Even though he was dead, it felt like a violation. As twins, we shared everything, so our rooms had been our private sanctuaries. We were only ever allowed in by invitation. Being here now, surrounded by memories of us together, was painful in a way I didn't have words for.
Moving to his bed, I'd lifted the stuffed sheep he'd given me. The ritual called for a personal item, and since it was the only thing I owned that he'd actually touched and created, I couldn't think of anything more appropriate. Lifting it to my chest, I squeezed it, pretending that it was my brother I was hugging. Tracey's distinctive chlorine and sunshine scent filled my nose, and I breathed it in, letting myself believe, for one selfish second, that he was there in my arms.
The door crashed open as Bree stumbled in, shattering my moment.
"I thought you were grabbing a lighter, not the whole damn kitchen!" I said, dropping the sheep and moving to help her.
Well, I was, but then Missy started being weird, so I grabbed some other shit to throw her off the trail…" Bree said, dropping her findings on Tracey's bed. I shook my head.
While there was a lighter, she also grabbed two wooden spoons, a can of whipped cream, some chocolate sauce, and a rope… although where she got that from I had no fucking clue. I groaned, shaking my head again. "Bree, she's going to think we're having an orgy in here."
"We always could, you know," she said with a lift of her shoulder. "I mean, Zed might be a dick, but he's hot. Use the rope to shut him up and…" The words died on her lips with my scowl. "Fine. The lighter," she said, handing it over. I rolled my eyes just as the front door closed once more.
"Zed must be here," I said, poking my head out the door. "We're in Trace's room!" I called.
Heavy boots thudded against the hardwood floor as Zed's green head appeared down the hall.
My heart jumped in my chest as his chocolate eyes met mine, but I reminded myself he's here for Tracey. Not me.
I flung the door open and stepped back, letting him through. He unzipped his jacket and laid it tentatively on the bed. His eyes fell on the items Bree brought up and a dark eyebrow lifted. "I thought we were summoning your brother."
"We are," I replied, avoiding his gaze as I moved to stand beside the altar.
Bree came up on one side of me, Zed on the other.
"So how do we do this?" he asked.
I twisted around to grab the stuffed sheep off Tracey's bed. "First, we put this in the center of the pentagram." I set the sheep down in the center of my Maneater creation. "Then we cleanse it," I continued, dipping my fingers in the bowl of water. I lifted them over the sheep and let the droplets fall. "Next we form a circle…" I muttered, picking up the bowl of salt. I used the hand I hadn't just dipped in water and stepped back. Picking up a fistful of salt, I started by Zed and walked around the whole altar, letting a continuous stream of salt pour. I was almost out of salt by the time I came back to Bree and stepped within the circle I'd created before closing it.
"This seems kind of Pinteresty…" Zed muttered. "Are you sure this is how it works?"
"Yup," Bree said before I could speak. "I've been to a couple of Witches United's coven meetings. They totally do it like this."
I took that as a good sign as I turned back to the altar before me.
"Next I have to say the Latin words while cutting my hand over the sheep. Can one of you hold the book?" I asked. My heart started to beat faster in my chest. Zed wasn't too far off in thinking that this seemed kinds… informal. It was the only shot we had, though.
Outside the moon cast a red glow over everything. Zed picked up the book and flipped through it, trying to find the page. I reached over, our fingers brushing as I turned it to the right page. He held it out for me as Bree handed over the kitchen knife.
"Are you sure you don't want me to do the cutting for you?" she offered.
"I'm sure," I said, nodding like I was surer than I was.
I lifted my hand over the sheep and pressed the blade of the knife to my skin.
"Skin of my skin. Blood of my blood. I summon thee, from the grave, up above," I said, first in English.
My hand closed around the knife and a stinging sensation burned in my palm as the blade cut deep.
"Cutis mea cutis. Sanguis sanguinis mei. Ego vocare te: De moris inderno specu super eum," I said next. Eliza was right. I didn't even need to understand Latin to know I butchered it to hell.
I squeezed my hand harder as I sliced the knife downward.
The edge came away red.
Crimson welled around my fingers. Droplets fell.
One. Two. Three.
The flicker of the candle lights was the only sound in the room. It wasn't until my lungs started to burn that I realized I was holding my breath. I exhaled slowly, staring hard at the stuffie.
Nothing happened.
"Fu…" I started, shoulders slumping.
"I…" Zed said.
I spun on him. "God help you if you say I told you so right now. I'm still holding a knife."
His lips snapped shut, and he lifted his hands in surrender.
"Addie," Bree said softly, resting her hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head, not wanting to hear it. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted this to work until we… until I… failed.
"The blood is never going to come out," I muttered, my frustration tripling at the realization. Leaning over, I reached for the stuffed sheep.
Before I made contact, its mouth opened and it let out a plaintive, "Baaaaaaaaaaaa."
I screamed, jumping back and falling into Zed.
"Holy shit," Bree breathed as the sheep started walking toward our feet.
Zed's arm was banded tight across my hips, holding my body into his. If I wasn't in the middle of freaking the fuck out, I might have enjoyed being pressed up against him.
"Tr-Tracey?" I whispered, my hand outstretched once more.
"Baaaaad Addddds."
"Bad?" I asked, annoyance swiftly replacing my surprise. "I summoned you back so that I can find out who murdered you and make them pay. How is that bad?"
Even though I was talking to a crocheted sheep, it was like no time at all had passed since I'd spoken with my brother. It had always been like this between us. We were closer than any two people on earth, but we bickered like two old biddies. There was nothing we couldn't fight about.
"Adddds gooooo."
I frowned. "Trace, why are you talking like that?"
"What do you mean?" Zed asked, speaking directly into my ear, his voice low and deep. The feel of his breath washing over my neck made me shiver, reminding me I was still leaning against him. More than a little unwillingly, I untangled myself from his hold. Another time, another place… hell, another guy… I might have said fuck it all and explored the feelings unfurling inside me. But things were complicated enough as it was.
"Addie?" Bree pressed.
Remembering the others couldn't hear my twin because they couldn't see or speak to ghosts, O explained. "He's not talking in full sentences. He's bleating and calling me bad." I bit my lip, wondering if my botched Latin had kept my brother's spirit from fully returning.
The stuffie continued to move toward us, but he wasn't making much progress as his little legs slopped and slid over the silk scarf. I snickered. He was about as graceful as a baby giraffe with one broken leg.
"Baaaaaa," he bleated again, the sound tugging at my chest.
Taking pity on him, I picked him up and held him at eye level. The intelligence staring out of those plastic eyes was unnerving. "Trace, can you tell me what you remember about your death?"
"Coooooold. Daaaaaaark."
"Great, he's defective."
"Defective?" Zed asked. The sheep looked from me to him, and I could have sworn it narrowed its eyes.
"Baaaaaaad Addddds," it repeated. This time I had a feeling I knew what it was talking about, but I was so not having that conversation.
"Yeah, he's talking like a sheep. Sort of. It's all 'baaaaad Adddds'." I pressed my lips together and glared at the stuffie. He was dead and unhelpful. Probably not the thing I should be thinking at that moment, but it was easy to get my priorities mixed up when he was scolding me about Zed.
"Well, you do get in trouble a lot," Bree said.
I gave her a look. "So not helping right now."
"What?" she asked innocently. "I'm just saying that it's not inaccurate."
I groaned, looking at the sheep. "Can you tell us who killed you?
It's big plastic eyes looked sad as it started to shake its little head. "Noooo Adddds."
"Can you confirm that you were killed?" I asked it.
Indecision warred in its expression, but then it gave the tiniest of nods.
"He can't tell you who murdered him," a voice behind me said.
I jumped, clutching the sheep to my chest.
"What?" Bree asked.
"Are you okay?" Zed followed up.
I turned and peered out of the circle. Standing in front of the red moon was none other than my ghost stalker Not-Morticia. She stood with her hands on her hips and a nonplussed expression.
"What do you mean he can't tell me?" I asked her.
"There are rules. Dead or not. Brother or not. Brought back or not… he has to follow them. The biggest one being that he can't interfere with the living."
The tension left my shoulders as I broke the circle and went straight for her. The candles winked out and the sheep still clutched to my chest let out a muffled, "Baaa."
"You couldn't have fucking told me that two weeks ago?" I asked her.
She rolled her eyes. "You needed the motivation to train. Besides, you have your brother back. In some form, at least." She shrugged, clearly not seeing the issue.
"You have to be fucking kidding me…" I started.
"Keep training. Be careful. I'll be watching," she said with a mischievous wink.
And then she did her favorite thing. Disappeared in a puff of smoke.
"Goddamnit," I muttered, hanging my head.
"Was that another ghost?" Bree asked.
"Ugh," I groused. "Yes, that was Not-Morticia." Bree lifted a brow at the name. "She never told me her name, but she looks like that kid from the Addams family…"
"Wait, wasn't her name Wed…" Bree interjected.
I scowled at the interruption and kept talking over her. "She says Trace can't tell me who killed him because it 'interferes with the living'."
"Wouldn't it have been helpful to say that before we bothered?" Zed asked.
"You're preaching to the fucking choir," I said, setting Tracey the sheep on the bed. "I'm beginning to think the ghosts want something, but no one is saying what. They keep showing up at weird times and disappearing before they really tell me much of anything."
Zed sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "So let me sum this up… You can see and talk to ghosts, but they won't tell you anything. You summoned your brother's soul back, and he's now possessing a stuffed animal, but he can't tell you anything either."
"Yup," I said, leaning against the dresser and crossing my arms.
"So basically we know nothing."
"Welcome to the club," I told him with a mock-sweet smile. "Feels great to be in the dark, doesn't it?"
"Now, now, children," Bree said, her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled deeply. "As delicious as this weird foreplay game you two play smells, there's no need to get into a pissing match.
Both Zed and I glared at her.
"Baaaaaa," Tracey protested, not appreciating the succubus' comment either.
Bree grinned. "What? It's true."
"Stop sniffing us," I said.
She shrugged, not at all apologetic. "Can't help my nature."
I groaned. "So what do we do now?" I asked Zed.
His arms were crossed, and he was staring at the floor, his expression distant. "We are not going to do anything. You're going to stay here and stay out of the way while I go back to the Zeta Omicron Mu house and see if there are any new leads on our wolf."
"You know there aren't," I said, more than a little angry he was trying to bench me again. "You guys have been searching for weeks and haven't discovered a damn thing. We can't keep dicking around. Bucky could sic his werewolf on someone else."
"How many times do I have to tell you Bucky isn't behind this?" Zed said, pinning me with a cold stare.
I took a step towards him. "Just because you don't want to admit your friend might be a murderer doesn't make it untrue."
"And just because you say he is doesn't make it true either," he said, his jaw tight.
"Alright, that's it," Bree said, stepping between us with her hands out. Her pupils were blown wide, the black replacing all other color. "Everybody just relax."
The anger seeped out of me before she finished speaking, my body feeling like I'd just swallowed a couple Xanax. The frost left Zed's eyes, and his jaw slackened. He looked completely stoned.
"I'm calling a timeout," Bree said. "This isn't going to get us anywhere. Addie, sweetie, you're still bleeding, so let's go get you cleaned up. Zed, why don't you go home and rub one out. Maybe you'll feel better. We can regroup tomorrow."
There was a flicker in Zed's eyes as if his will was trying to reassert itself, but even he wasn't totally immune to Bree's succubus mojo. He's going to make her pay for this later, I thought in a dreamy haze.
I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye before she dragged me into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind us, leaving Zed and my brother the stuffed animal alone in the other room.
When Bree turned to face me, her eyes were normal once more, but I was still out of it. She shook her head, giving me a small smile. "Sorry about that, but you two are impossible and somebody had to play referee. Now, where do you keep the first-aid kit?"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first post of 2021! Woohoo! Anyway... hope you're enjoying this twisted fairytale of a story. Feel free to drop me a review and let me know!