Interrupted Magic Karla Brandenburg (ereader for android TXT) 📖

happened upon a beautiful garden. I knocked on the woman’s door and she was only too happy to cut me a bouquet of gladiolus. I set them in water and made a quick trip to Walmart for the henna.”

“I’m supposed to magically know what to write?” Kyle asked.

“Exactly,” Nora replied.

He shook his head and let me lead him into the house. I settled him at the dining table while Nora retrieved the supplies the grimoire had called for.

Kyle wiped his face with his right hand. “Can we get this over with so I can take a nap?”

“I hope you’re right-handed.” Nora smiled at me over his head.

He nodded in response.

“It’ll only take a moment.” She handed him the cut flower and pushed the bowl of brown liquid closer.

“Write with a flower. I feel stupid,” he said. “Am I supposed to make some shit up?”

I sat beside him. “You’re going to ask the magic what it wants. Repeat after me. ‘Inscribe that which has been required that I may proceed with honor.’”

“And then?”

“The words will present themselves,” Nora said. “Think of it like a Ouija board.”

“Right.” He sighed. “Tell me again?” He dipped the flower stalk into the henna and held his hand over the sheet of paper.

I repeated the incantation, and when he echoed my words, his eyes closed while his hand moved across the page.

On September 2, you will be arrested for possession. These charges will overturn my brother’s conviction. – Madeleine Stephens.

Kyle’s head lolled back and he jerked upright with a half-snore. He blinked, as if to reorient himself after waking. He met my gaze and blinked once more. “Did it work?”

I nodded and he read what he’d written.

“Which means we have until Labor Day,” I said.

“The you in this prediction is Daria, right?” Kyle asked.

“It was. Until the spell traveled to you,” I pointed out.

“Never happen,” he said firmly. “I don’t use drugs of any kind. You know that.”

“If what Daria told me was true, the brother they arrested didn’t either. She said the evidence on the drug charge was sketchy.”

“No.” Kyle shook his head. “That wouldn’t happen to me. Cops aren’t that sloppy or crooked.”

I exchanged glances with Nora.

Nora bowed her head and answered for me. “Under this scenario, it’s more likely the drugs would find a way to you rather than the police wouldn’t be doing their job properly.”

Kyle took my arms, suddenly fully alert. “If I’m arrested for possession, I’ll never be able to work in law enforcement again. You have to fix this.”

Chapter 8

Labor Day was two weeks away, not much time to find Daria and send the spell back to her, the same two weeks Kyle was supposed to take to heal. Away from the construction site, any further accidents he might encounter shouldn’t be life threatening. Then again, the spell wasn’t looking for a life, it was for retribution.

“Can we make the magic travel to someone else?” Kyle asked.

Nora raised her eyebrows. “Who would you suggest?”

“Daria works for me.” Kyle wrestled his computer from the end table with one hand and plopped down on the sofa. “You said she lived near here. What was her last name?”

“Buckley,” I said.

Nora leaned close and whispered. “Do you want me to stay?”

I glanced out the window, at the fading sunlight. “No. I can manage.”

She nodded. “Then I’m off. I have things to take care of at home.”

I hugged her an extra moment, missing the time we normally spent working together and catching up. As she drove away, I waved from the kitchen window.

“I’m not finding any listings,” Kyle said. “And her Facebook page is private.”

I picked up the dreamcatcher Daria had used as payment. “She said she works local craft fairs. Try looking her up that way. In fact, even if her Facebook page is private, she might make craft fair posts public.”

He clicked away on his computer.

Would detective work improve his mood? Even if we found Daria, I didn’t know how to transfer the spell back to her. Would that be considered intentional magic? Once again, I was caught in a quandary.

Madeleine Stephens. She was the author of the spell. I could contact her and tell her what happened, how Daria had duped me. What else was I supposed to think about Daria’s insincere apology?

The clock was running. While Kyle chased down leads on Daria, I consulted my computer to find Madeleine. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find she had a web page offering magic for hire.

With a glance over my screen at Kyle—he was focused on his own project—I clicked to Madeleine’s contact page. Aside from the usual social media platforms and a contact form, she didn’t offer a real-world address. I composed a message and sent it, hoping she wouldn’t laugh me off for trying to undo what she’d done.

“You’d think if she was a crafter, she’d have a web presence to sell her stuff,” Kyle mumbled.

“Agreed. You want me to check?” I asked.

He glowered. “I was a police officer. I know how to look for this kind of thing.”

Kyle’s posturing kicked up my hackles, but I restrained myself from commenting. He might seem better, but I was pretty sure he was still surrounded by those fragile eggshells. I shook my head. No point in telling him I’d already contacted Madeleine. The Internet made it easy to find people who wanted to be found, and as he’d mentioned, if she had a business, Daria would want to be found.

I reached for the dreamcatcher once more and checked the tag. Along with the legend, she’d added the name of her business. “Try looking up DarBucks,” I told Kyle, giving him a new direction.

“Found her. This post says she’s displaying at a craft show...” His expression fell. “Not until September 15. That’ll be too late.”

“Is there a contact form?” I asked. “It might show her address, or at least provide a way to get in touch.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes. “I know how to navigate a website.”

Apparently, I’d stepped on one