Hail to the Queen (Witch For Hire 2)

Thirty minutes later, my eyes water as I watch an emaciated, balding woman be wheeled into the hospital room by an older daughter. The girl with a waist-length auburn mane and peaches and cream skin can’t be more than sixteen. Her brother is older. Lanky, and tall with darker hair, he has the look of a youth who’s had to grow up too fast. He’s on the verge of losing his mother, and now his father will fall.

My vision wavers. I hold back the tears. I’ll cry when this crisis has been averted. I may be tough, but I’m not a robot. The devastation that’s occurred over the past few months is starting to get to me. I push on because it’s what I do.

“It’s time to hunt, Lady,” Marcellus says from his position beside me.

“Yes, it is.”

***

The lights of Festival of Freaks shine brightly at the edge of the forest. The year-round haunted house is the location the pendulum located during dousing. The worn wooden fence is loaded with the 50s themed posters advertising Lobster Boy, the Bearded Lady, Wolfman, and more. The once campy acts have been transformed into fanged, clawed, and bloody monsters.

“Cheery,” Sacha drawls.

“Are you sure we can’t have a bite to eat? No one would ever notice her,” Ruby mutters.

“No, we’re here to capture and contain,” Cristobal says firmly.

“Wait. She was serious?” Sacha asks.

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“Vampire,” Ruby drawls sassily with an exaggerated brogue.

“Same team tonight,” I remind.

The abandoned theme park for children has sat unused for years, rusting. Plant-covered and eerie, it’s the perfect backdrop for a haunted house.

The small Ferris Wheel and roller coaster tracks are visible through the open gates. The rundown carousel slowly spins, playing warped and broken music. The happy jingle has become a jaded tune of terror since the sound mechanism broke down. Why pay to create a creepy atmosphere when you can buy it as is?

The clowns lurking by the entrance with garish makeup and neon blue and orange hair invite us in with a wave.

“I hate clowns,” Larkin mumbles.

“A vampire is afraid of clowns?” I tease.

“Not afraid, distrustful. You never know what’s lurking under all that makeup.”

“How is that different from any other time?”

“Touché,” Larkin smirks.

“We remain with our groups. Larkin, Sacha, and I, and Lou, Ruby, and Marcellus.”

“Once we locate our targets, we wait to join each other before we move in,” Cristobal says.

“Yes, sir.” I salute. “Anything you say, sir.”

He glowers at me, and I wink before we split and head in separately with our online tickets. A zombie clown with pale skin, balding head, and a dark suit shuffles toward us. This would be fun under different circumstances.

The pounded metal band I’ve charmed to react to the nearness to Wallace and Ernest is lukewarm on my wrist. I turn to the left and make my way through the crowd.

“Anything?” Marcellus asks.

“Not one change in temperature either way so far.”

“Hmm. Then we can consider this the midway point. Not too close, not too far,” he suggests.

“That’s smart.”