“Very.”
“Can you give me the address?”
“I can, but you won’t like it.”
“Why?” I already know I’m going to hate the answer.
“’Cause it’s down in Witching Swamp.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I mumble. Tainted by blood spilled, spells intent on harm, and oppression, the portion of the bayou had become a twisted version of the lush green waterways the state is known for.
“If you go, don’t go alone.”
Her caution gives me pause. Is she concerned or sending me into a trap?
“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”
“Famous last words. Look, Lou. I’m the one who gave you this information, and I don’t want your blood on my hands.”
“I got it. I won’t go in alone.”
“Good. Be sure you don’t bargain with things you aren’t willing to give. I’ve got to go.” Silence greets me before I can say anything else.
“What was that?” Sacha asks when I put my phone down. Her expression is a mixture of confusion and concern.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.
“You want company?” Fel asks, moving closer and placing her hand on my arm.
I glance down at
her pink-painted fingernails, and up to meet her gaze. “Yeah, I do. I need you to be a buffer. I don’t want anyone knowing what I’m actually looking into.”
“That should be easy enough to do seeing as we’re both clueless.” Sacha rolls her blue-gray eyes.
“We’re headed to the Witching Swamp.”
Fel whistles. “Whatever you’re after it must be damned important for you to trek your ass through that cesspool.”
“You’ve no idea.” I stand. “Get ready, girls, Witch for Hire is on their first assignment.”
***
The mood is somber as we navigate the deserted waterways in our small boat. The sound of the motor and the swoosh of water as we slice through the onyx surface is loud against the silence. It’s impossible not to feel the wrongness. There are no signs of gators, buzzing mosquitos, or croaking frogs. The Witching area is devoid of life. The trees are dead or dying, twisted by the lack of nutrients and the dark magic that’s tainted the entire area bit by bit.
I’m chilled regardless of the bright sunlight beaming down on us. There’s an invisible barrier around this swath of land that’s formed over time. An area can go bad with enough bloodshed, ill intent, and paranormal activity. Things are drawn here now. I peer down at the water and freeze. Shadows skim across the surface; waterlogged spectrals, I suspect, spy for a master.
“You see that, right?” Sacha asks, and I hear a slight quaver to her voice.
“Yep. Wish I didn’t though,” I mumble.
“I’m starting to think Fel is the lucky one.” Sacha nods her head toward Fel, who has been charged with steering. Focused on guiding us through the water, she’s oblivious to anything else.
“I call dibs on steering on the way back.”
“I’ll rock paper scissors you for it,” Sacha counters.
“Deal.”