My dear friends. Thanks once again for coming with me on the journey of this story. I'm glad you enjoyed it and I'm grateful for all the wonderful reviews you've left for me. I want to take this opportunity to wish you all a very happy, healthy Christmas and a New Year that will bring all you truly wish for and need.

Thank you once again...oh, and look out for "Shadowlands" the next story coming in the New Year.

Love and hugs, KW.

Chapter 17

Michelle handed Hutch a pot of table salt – the ordinary sort used to spice foods. 'You need to lay an unbroken line of salt at every opening to the cabin – across the doorways, the window ledges and at the foot of the chimney. Make sure the salt line is unbroken. Evil spirits can't cross the salt, it burns them and reminds them of the brimstone in hell. When you're done, I need you both to wash using the soap I've laid out. It contains herbs that I've found useful in the past. There's no guarantee they'll work, but it's the best I can do. Hurry. Papa Noir will be here soon.'

Hutch took the salt pot from the woman not knowing whether to laugh in her face or book himself into Cabrillo right now but the serious look on Michelle's face put his doubts firmly to the back of his mind and he set about his task. Meanwhile, Michelle sat by Starsky on the bed. The brunet was still writhing and clutching at his head, moaning softly as his body shuddered. Gently she took his shoulder and pulled him over so that he could look at her.

'You are the most important link in this chain. From you I need truth. You can tell how close the Dark One is and you need to tell me, so that we can prepare. Can you do that for me?'

Starsky nodded past the voice yelling at him inside his head. Gone were the whispers of seduction. Gone too were he promises of what Papa could do for Starsky. In place of the soothing velvet voice, Papa was now unleashing the full force of his anger onto the brunet, screaming at him and threatening him with scenarios that had Starsky shaking and shuddering. He would do anything to be rid of the monster who was semi-possessing him and feel the quiet of his own mind once again.

'He's close' Starsky panted. 'He's coming for me and this time he's gonna take what he wants.'

'Fight him. Stay strong and fight. It's the only way to conquer him' Michelle said softly. She looked up. 'How much longer?' she asked the blond cop.

Hutch put down he now empty salt crock. 'All the windows, door and chimney are done. Now what?'

'Take Starsky, wash and come back to me. After that, I need to perform a protection spell, although I have to warn you that the Dark One is strong. We'll need to keep our wits about us.'

Hutch dropped to his knees by Starsky's cot. The brunet seemed once more lost in the world inside his head and he flinched as his partner touched him on the shoulder. 'C'mon buddy. We got things to do.'

Starsky shook his head as though to clear it. 'We gonna beat his flake?'

'Hey, how many flakes have we taken out in the past huh? Prudholm, Matwick. They never got the better of us.'

The curly haired man snickered. 'As I recall, we could actually see 'em comin'. He's in my head Hutch. Right here inside my head an' I can't shut the bastard up.'

'Then ignore him. Try to shut him out. Sing, recite poems or gods...even the Miranda if ya have to, but don't let him take you over. C'mon, we gotta wash up before Michelle works her mojo.'

Starsky climbed off the bed as Hutch held out his hand. The air inside the cabin seemed somehow colder now and as they passed the fire in the grate, he flames flickered, sputtered and then died. Michelle shuddered.

'Be quick. He's close.'

The two cops washed quickly but thoroughly. Neither man could fully understand why they were cleaning themselves but the soap Michelle had given them smelled pleasant. Hutch detected hints of Rosemary, Mallow and some Sage in the background but they had little time to fully appreciate the finer points of soap making. Michelle called them back to the living room urgently.

As they walked into the room, the air felt thick enough that both men coughed and started to choke. It was as though the oxygen in the room had somehow been sucked out and what was left was almost solid and sulpherous. A thin mist had started to form and Michelle held her hands out to both Starsky and Hutch. They came to her and she knelt on the floor, indicating that they should do the same. As they came closer, they could see that the woman had made a circle of salt and sprigs of some unidentifiable herb on the hard boards of the floor and she was sitting inside it. At the centre of the circle a single candle burned, it's flame proud and true. Michelle's eyes were clouded and she panted heavily as though she'd run a marathon.

'He's so close. I can feel him pressing in on us' she whispered, her eyes never leaving the candle flame.

Starsky put his hands to his head and let out a hiss of pain. 'He's louder. He's so loud...so...fuck! Hutch it hurts...it hurts. Make it stop, for gods sake make it stop.' The brunet slumped forwards inside the circle so that his forehead touched the floor as he moaned softly and tugged at his curls. Beside him, Hutch rubbed his back and looked helplessly at Michelle.

'Can you help him?'

'The protection charm I placed on the cabin is strong, but Papa Noir is stronger. He's pushing against it as we speak. He's testing it, trying to find a way in.'

'Well try harder. Do somethin'...anythin'. Do you have a gun?'

Michelle frowned. 'No, but even if I did, it wouldn't help. You can't shoot a spirit.'

'I can shoot him.' Hutch started to get up but Michelle held him down.

'Don't leave the circle. Not with him so close.'

'So what? We just wait whilst he destroys my buddy?'

Michelle shook her head. 'He may have Starsky's mind, but we have his body and his welfare. Concentrate on Starsky. Think of the good times you've had and how much you care for him. The thoughts will strengthen the circle of power.'

Hutch frowned, finding this whole scenario both wacky and scary. The look on Michelle's face, however, dispelled any further feelings of stupidity and focused the blond's mind on his task. Think good thoughts. Good thoughts of Starsky and his friendship with the brunet.

A bright Sunny day and a girl to watch over. 'So who do we trust, huh? Same as always buddy. Me and Thee...'

An alley way and a rusting fire escape. 'It hurts Hutch...god it hurts...'

Huggy's spare room. 'I got ya, you big lug. I got ya...'

The squad room and the brunet clearing out his desk. A hand stretched across time and space. 'You're my friend Hutch...'

A woman by his side, snuggling, her body warm; a knock at the door and the woman departed; voices raised and Hutch was at the door, facing the accusation in Starsky's eyes as he tucked in his shirt...

A deserted apartment and Starsky standing by the body of Hutch's girl, a gun in his hand as he looked up from killing his beloved Gillian. Starsky had shot her and...

Michelle roused him from his thoughts. 'Your face suddenly changed. Are you alright?'

Hutch shook himself from the distorted memories. 'No, I...I...I can't think, can't remember...oh my god!' The blond pitched forwards, bowing his spine as though a whip lash had fallen across it. At the same time, the voice in Starsky's head began to quiet and he levered himself up onto his knees. He looked around as though seeing the room for the first time and his eyes settled on Hutch.

'Buddy? What's happening?'

Hutch gasped, his hands clawing at his back as another pain assaulted him. 'Dunno...I...'

'Papa Noir has changed his tactics' Michelle snapped bitterly. 'I should have seen this coming. He knows you're strong and that pain alone will never break you. How do you feel?'

'Better I guess. Still sore 'n then some, but... the voice is almost gone. You did it!'

Michelle shook her head. I did nothing. He's simply changed the way he's going to fight this.'

As though to reinforce the statement, Hutch threw his head back and let out a yell of pain as a red slash appeared across his back and blood started to seep through the long, angry looking wound. The blond screamed again as another identical mark appeared and Starsky stared incredulously.

'What the fuck...?'

'The voice in your head is gone?'

Starsky paused for a second, considering. 'Yeah, pretty much. But that don't answer my question.'

'Yes it does. In a way, you did win, you beat him or at least you made Papa wonder if he would ever truly conquer you. He knows you're strong enough to resist physical or mental pain so now...'

'Hell no! He's targeting Hutch to get to me?'

'It would seem so, and I never saw it coming' Michelle said softly.

'So what now. What do we do?' the brunet asked as yet another slash appeared on Hutch's back, running parallel to the other two. Hutch groaned as he toppled onto his side in pain.

'Buddy, listen to me. We're gonna get through this, huh? We can do this, ok?' Starsky took Hutch's head in his hands. The blond's pain filled eyes blinked open and he snorted.

'Feels better already, but he's here an' I can feel...aarrgh.' Another scream escaped Hutch's lips as a gash opened up on the side of his head. The blood immediately started to trickle down the side of his face and in Starsky's head a heavily French accented voice sounded.

'He will hurt until you're mine, Mon Cher.'

Hutch closed his eyes as Starsky looked away. The brunet let go of Hutch's head and once again the pain returned, worse than before.

Michelle got to her knees. 'Hold him. Hold him close and touch him' she said urgently.

Starsky snorted. 'We aren't...'

'Your touch keeps Papa Noir at bay. He's the embodiment of evil and he's powerful but he can't fight past the touch of true friendship. Hold Hutch and keep on holding him.'

Starsky did as he was bid, kneeling close and pulling the blond over to him until he could wrap his arms around Hutch's body, drawing him close. The flaxen haired cop sagged against his buddy, his body shaking and trembling as he fought Papa's unseen presence.

'S'good...better' he mumbled. 'Hurts, but it's better.'

Inside Starsky's head a scream echoed. It was an angry sound and Papa Noir yelled down the thread he'd created between himself and Starsky. 'I'll have one of you, or both of you Mon Cher, it matters not, but you won't win...won't win.'

Michelle leaned over and placed her arms around Starsky's neck. With one hand tangled in Hutch's wheaten bangs and the other entwined in chocolate curls, she drew Starsky and Hutch to her and kissed the brunet full on the lips. Starsky hesitated, unsure and then responded as the scream in his head redoubled it's efforts. Now, though, Papa Noir's voice held an edge of desperation and as Starsky's tongue gently played with Michelle's and his arms tightened around Hutch's body, the scream trailed off into a sob.

One last time Papa cast out his magic, slashing at Hutch with his power but this time nothing more than a bruise appeared on the blond's face. Hutch winced and his body recoiled and then there was silence in the room around the tight knot of people. Michelle held both Starsky and the blond in her arms whilst Starsky had one arm around the girl and the other around Hutch's body. Hutch clutched at Starsky's waist as though he'd never let go as the blood slowly trickled down his back and onto the floor.

For an age the three remained locked together, not wanting to let go in case Papa Noir had somehow tricked them but slowly the air inside the cabin began to warm, the fire in the hearth flickered and sprang back to life and the mist that had permeated the cabin lifted. As the room warmed and the angry voice of the witch doctor died away Michelle looked around as though seeing the room anew. Starsky watched her.

'Is he truly gone?' he brunet asked, his voice shaky.

Michelle examined the circle of salt and herbs she'd laid down. It was scuffed but unbroken as though some unseen force had tried to cross the line and been repelled. The single candle at the centre of the circle still burned brightly and the cabin was silent. Even the birds had once again started to sing outside and the air seemed fresh like a dewy morning.

'I think so. Yes.'

'And he's not gonna come back?' Starsky asked.

'He's powerful, but his power isn't limitless. He would need time to recharge himself but even then, I think he will know when he is truly beaten. I think he will not return.'

Starsky ran his hands through Hutch's hair. 'Hear that buddy? We got rid of the bogy man.'

Hutch shuddered and let go of his partner, pushing himself up until he was kneeling. He winced as he moved and Starsky too winced at the freshly bleeding welts across the golden skin of the blond's back. 'We did?'

'Uh huh. Now we just need to get the hell outa here and back to the real world.'

'Not before I dress your back' Michelle said, getting up and sweeping away the salt circle. 'After that, I think Hutch is right. You should go. Put as much distance as you can between yourselves and Lapetite. Distance will sever his connection for good.'

Starsky helped Michelle to her feet. 'And what about you? Will he come after you now?'

The woman smiled. 'He may. We've battled before, but I can handle him if I need to.'

'Can't we take you back with us?' Hutch asked as Michelle started to dab away at the welts on his back

'To what? A life in a city? Somehow I don't think there would be much call for a witch in California.'

Starsky snorted. 'It's California honey. Anythin' goes! But seriously, are you gonna be safe here on your own? I mean...'

Michelle put up her hand. 'I'll be fine. And besides, I'm not alone. I have friends and some family. Just because I chose to live alone doesn't mean I'm lonely and as you've seen, I can take care of myself.'

The brunet nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He felt a debt of gratitude to the woman that he would never be able to repay but at the same time, he knew he needed to get out of the swamp, out of Louisiana and out of the way of Papa Noir once and for all.

He reached out a hand and gently touched Michelle's face. 'There's nuthin I can do or say to repay ya?' he said gently.

'Be safe and keep together' she said. 'And maybe stay away from Voodoo for a while?'

Epilogue.

The plane touched down at LAX right on time. Baggage collection took a record ten minutes to clear and then the taxi took the two men through the city and back out to Starsky's house. The flight had been a relief to them but uncomfortable for Hutch and Starsky had winced in sympathy with his buddy every time Hutch's back touched the seat. The slashes inflicted by Papa Noir had been real enough and despite the cooling poultices Michelle had applied, the blond would carry the scars till the end of his days. Starsky's own scars were carried on the inside and when he was alone or when conversation ceased, the brunet tensed, expecting to hear the heavily French accented voice once more in his head.

The cab drew to a halt outside Ridgeway and Starsky opened the door to his apartment with a sigh of relief. Hutch followed him inside and as he threw his bags down onto the floor Starsky went into the kitchen in search of beer.

Two minutes later the brunet had not reappeared and Hutch heard a muffled noise. He got up, rounded the cabinet into the kitchen and stopped short.

Starsky stood with his fridge door open, staring wide eyed and shaking.

'Starsk?' Hutch asked. 'You ok?'

The brunet slammed his fridge door shut and plastered a smile on his face. 'No beer' he said. 'Want coffee instead?'

Hutch paused. 'Sure.'

'Great, coffee it is. Go'n sit down and rest your back huh? Be right with ya.'

'Starsky are you sure you're ok?' Hutch asked.

'I said I was, yeah. Just...ya know, tired. Go an' sit down huh? Coffee'll be right up.'

Hutch cast his buddy a searching look but turned and made his way back to the living room as Starsky ran his hands through his hair and once more opened the fridge door. There at the back of the fridge, propped up against the beer was the corpse of a black chicken, it's feathers still intact and by it's side a note on white paper with red writing. Starsky tore it from the shelf and screwed it up hastily and then unballed it again and read the words once more. Fear spiked and a cold shudder rand down his spine as he reread the message.

'By blood we are bound. Until we meet again, Mon Cher.'

-fin-