Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [125]
Frank momentarily forgot his fears and looked around in wonder. “Cool.”
Max was at his workbench, burning incense and chanting quietly as he sprinkled something on the charms he was preparing.
Jars of herbs, spices, minerals, amulets, and neatly assorted kinds of claws and teeth sat on densely packs shelves and in dusty cabinets. There were antique weapons, some urns and boxes and vases, several Tarot decks, some runes, a scattering of old bones, and a Tibetan prayer bowl. An enormous bookcase was packed to overflowing with many leather-bound volumes, as well as unbound manuscripts and scrolls.
“Man, the set designer for The Vampyre should see this place!” said Frank.
“Pardon?” I said, resisting the urge to peer over Max’s shoulder.
“The Vampyre.” Frank spelled it for us. “A friend of mine works for the producer. It’s an off-Broadway show they’re mounting for a limited run this season. It’s a showcase for that actor from that canceled TV series.”
“Off-Broadway? This season?” Jeff asked alertly. “Any parts?”
“Not for a brother, man,” Frank said with regret. “It’s set in nineteenth-century Europe. All white people.” He looked at me. “You know, you might be right for it. They’re looking for a couple of actresses in their mid-twenties who fit a historical style.”
“What’s it called again?” I asked. “The Vampyre?”
Frank nodded. “Based on the story by John Polidori.”
“Who?” I said.
Jeff looked apologetically at Frank. “She’s practically illiterate.”
Ignoring Jeff, Frank said, “He was a companion of Lord Byron’s.”
“Oh,” I said. “Hence the historical aspect of the production.”
Max ceased chanting and said, “Frank?”
I said to Frank, “And they’re auditioning now?”
“In a couple of weeks,” he said.
Max said, “Jeffrey?”
“Excellent!” I would make sure Thack got me into that audition.
“Esther?” Max said.
“Yes, Max?”
“The charms are ready to be donned.”
“Oh, good.”
“You want to keep the charm close to your heart,” Max explained to the men.
He uttered an incantation as he slipped a thin leather string over each of their heads, from which the charms hung like pendants. The pouches were smaller than mine. There was a distinctly musty odor coming from them. I decided not to ask what was inside the tiny bags.
“I think I feel safer now.” Frank closed his fist over his gris-gris bag, took a deep breath, then smiled. “Yeah! I do feel safer!”
Jeff sniffed his pouch. “I comfort myself with the knowledge that Puma will understand. Speaking of which, I’ve called her four more times. That Vodou ceremony’s got to be over by now.” He said anxiously, “She’s really missing.”
“And her brother’s gone insane,” Frank said.
I gathered that Jeff had explained to him exactly who had attacked him. I asked Frank to explain to me what had happened this evening. While he did so, Max had me sit next to his workbench, so he could modify my gris-gris bag without removing it from around my neck.
Even firsthand, Frank’s story still didn’t make any sense. Until joining Jeff and Max in the bookstore tonight, he’d never even heard of Puma, let alone had any contact with her. And his only contact with Biko had been on Monday night, when the young man had rescued him.
Yet tonight, for reasons unknown to anyone, Biko had come to his apartment without warning, broken down his door, and tried to kill him.
“Based on Frank’s description of Biko’s demeanor,” Max said, “I now believe that Biko was possessed at the time.”
Frank explained to me, “The kid’s eyes didn’t blink. His face was frozen in a blank expression. He didn’t speak. He didn’t react when I threw things at him. Not even when whiskey got in his eyes. It was like he was on autopilot.” Frank clutched his gris-gris pouch again. “I figured he was on PCP or something. Possession never occurred to me.”
“Max, do you mean spirit possession?” I asked, aghast. “Like what happened to Lopez?”
“No. I believe Biko’s condition is a form of possession which is sometimes called the white darkness,” Max said gravely.