Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Where in the hell was I?

I quickly scanned the room, unable to remember where I was or why I’d come.

The overhead lights were fluorescent. The walls were a dull green, and a long plastic-covered beige couch lined one of the walls. It wasn’t a large room. In fact, it felt a little claustrophobic. There was one heavy metal door on the far side, and it was closed. No windows. The floor was a faded butter-yellow linoleum that had seen better days. Whoever decorated the room was stuck in the late 1960’s.

Wait… was it the 1960’s?

For the life of me, I didn’t understand anything. What was I doing here? And where exactly was here ? There was one other woman in the room. She was stunning and about twenty—tons of dark curly hair and unusually beautiful eyes. Oddly, she was wearing an adult-sized pink onesie that should have been on a baby, not a full-grown woman. I felt like I knew her, but couldn’t place her. She gave me a shy smile and a wave. I waved back. When I was about to inquire who she was, something insane occurred.

“Daisy?” a vaguely familiar voice called out. “Can I come out?”

I glanced down at my stomach in terror. Had I eaten someone? Was I high? Was I in the waiting room of a mental institution? Why in the hell was I wearing mismatched sweats and crappy tennis shoes? Nothing made sense.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered to the fashion-impaired gal… not that I looked much better.

“I did,” she replied with a sweet smile. “I think you should let her out.”

“How?” I asked, wondering if she was as crazy as I appeared to be.

She shrugged. “Tell her it’s okay to come out now.”

Made sense. “Umm… sure. Come on out.”

Much to my shock, a full-grown old woman flew out of my feet. I screamed. I didn’t remember smoking any pot or taking hallucinogenic drugs, but I must have. Not much else could explain a woman exiting my body through my feet. I didn’t think I even liked drugs, but there was a first time for everything. Backing myself up against the wall, I wondered if I could make a run for the door and escape. Although, the old lady didn’t seem dangerous, nor did the pretty woman in the onesie. They were both adorable and the old one was very talkative.

“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” she said, looking down at her dress. “This right here is the dress I got buried in. I think I’m lookin’ spiffy!” She stared at her hands in delight. “I can’t see through them no more! Feel kinda like Pinocchio! I’m a real old lady again with skin and age spots. That just dills my pickle.”

This was definitely a mental institution. She was as nuts. There was a distinct possibility all three of us were off our rockers.

Deciding to jump in with an icebreaker, I got right to the point. “Hi, I’m Daisy.” At least I could remember my name. That was something. “I’m not sure where I am right now. Do either of you nice ladies happen to know?”

The look they exchanged was filled with horror. My stomach cramped. Something was very wrong.

“Who am I?” the old lady demanded.

“Is that a trick question?” I asked warily.

“Nope,” she said, crossing her skinny arms over her chest and giving me the eye-ball. The move was familiar. “You seem to be as confused as a fart in a fan factory. You know who I am, Daisy girl.”

I shook my head. I didn’t know who she was. I had a feeling I was supposed to, but I didn’t. Looking over to the onesie girl, I smiled apologetically. “Am I supposed to know you too?”

Her smile went right to my heart and made me feel strangely whole. “Yes, but I look very different from the last time you saw me.”

The old gal in her burial dress was getting perturbed. “You think she banged her noggin on the trip?” she asked, Onesie.

“I don’t,” she said. “There’s some kind of spell in this room. Some kind of trap is my guess.”

I looked around. What was the girl talking about? A spell? I blew out a long slow breath and tried to think of a plan. I expected men in white coats to show up with straightjackets at any moment.

“I’m out of here,” I announced, walking over to the door and trying to open it. Of course, it was locked. If this were a horror movie, the door would be locked right before everyone died violently.

The pretty young girl walked over and extended her hand. I could remember a handsome man telling me to be cautious. Was I supposed to be cautious of the girl? That didn’t sit right. I felt a strong pull to both of the women. Very strong.

Slowly, I took her hand, part of the fog in my brain cleared. I did know these women, but I still wasn’t sure why or how.

“Three is a powerful number,” she said, glancing over at the old woman and extending her other hand. “The past, the present and the future need to come together. The game is a riddle. Three must play to win and break the evil spells.”

“I know those words,” I whispered, doing my best to recall why.

“I know you do,” the girl said, gently squeezing my hand.

Her touch was magical and I never wanted to let go.

“Gram, please join us,” she said.

The woman she called Gram hustled over, took Onsies’ hand in hers, then extended the other to me. “Daisy girl, hold my hand. Let’s break this dang spell.”

I was beginning to think she wasn’t insane, and neither was Onesie. Maybe I was the only one who had lost her marbles. Tentatively, I took the old gal’s hand in mine. My entire body tingled as the rest of the fog dissipated. The shock of the truth hit me like a cement block thrown at my head from close range. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor with a thud. Onesie was my baby girl who wasn’t a baby anymore except for the unfortunate outfit she was wearing. Alana Catherine was all grown up and saving me when I should be the one protecting her. Gram was the woman who’d loved me and raised me. She was dead, but here she wasn’t. Gram was wearing the dress I’d chosen for her at her funeral. She looked gorgeous and very much alive. I was wearing shitty sweats and ugly tennis shoes because that was what Candy Vargo, the OG of badasses, had dressed me in after the binding spell to protect my daughter.

We were on the Higher Power’s plane of existence and locked in a room that had been spelled. Thankfully, the spell had only affected me. If it had dinged all three of us, we’d be screwed. My desire to beat the Higher Power’s ass intensified. But seeing Alana Catherine and Gram kickstarted my protection instinct into high gear.

I was in it to win it. We’d somehow passed the first test no thanks to me, but that was the power of three.

The tears came unbidden and there was nothing I could do to stop them. My grandmother and daughter joined me on the floor in the cryfest. We held tight to each other and didn’t let go.

“We have to move now, girlies,” Gram said. “Tim told us that we can’t mess around.”

I squeezed both of them tighter. “What if I forget again?”

Alana Catherine touched my cheek. Immediately, I place my hand over hers. “If you do… if any of us do, we know how to beat it. We stick together and figure it out.”

I squinted at my lovely and wise daughter. “Do you understand why we’re here?”

She laughed. It remined me of delicate chimes. “Strangely, yes.”

“All of it?” I pressed, making sure I didn’t need to explain anything to her. Knowledge was power, and we needed all that we could get.

“All of it,” she assured me.

“How?” I was confused.

She shrugged. “Magic works in mysterious ways, Mom.”

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to keep from crying. I failed. “You called me mom,” I blubbered.

“Umm… that’s because you’re my mom,” she replied with a raised brow that was so reminiscent of Gideon it made me gasp.

“You look like your dad,” I told her, unable to stop staring at the grownup version of my child.

“Sperm has an interesting way of making that happen,” she replied with a naughty wink.

I was no longer crying. Instead, I laughed.

“She’s a spicy little thing,” Gram said with a grin. “Just like me!”

“And me,” I added. “One more question.”

“Ask,” Alana Catherine said.

“When we go back, will you be a baby again?”

My daughter was perplexed for a beat. “I’m not sure. Will it bother you if I’m not?”

“Hell to the no,” I said quickly. “You could come back as a skunk and I’d love you to the end of time.”

“Lordy have mercy,” Gram choked out. “Don’t say things like that, baby girl. Words have power. Don’t you be forgettin’ that!”

Gram was right and I hoped hard that I hadn’t just accidently doomed my child for life. Heck, if I’d screwed up and turned my baby into a skunk, I’d have Gideon do some of his voodoo so I could take her place and she could live an odor-free life. Deciphering what-ifs was a waste of time and time was not a luxury that we had.

“Moving on,” I said, looking at how we were dressed. We were a hot mess other than Gram. “We look really bad.”

“You think?” Alana Catherine commented. “I’m wearing a onesie.”

“You looked cute in it this morning,” I pointed out.

“That was then, this is now,” she shot right back with a grin.

Without any fanfare or warning, she wiggled her nose and did her own version of voodoo.

“Wouldja look at that?” Gram gasped.

The three of us were now sporting black from head to toe—black pants, long-sleeved fitted black shirts and fabulous black combat boots.

“I figured we should look the part,” Alana Catherine said.

“Of?” I questioned, loving her choice.

“Badass Death Counselors,” she replied, pulling both Gram and me to our feet.

“The past, the present and the future,” I said with a nod of approval. “I say we go fix the tear in the Light and get back home.”

“How we gonna do that, Daisy child?” Gram asked.

“Only one way to find out,” I said, waving my hand and disintegrating the door to dust.