least she had some words for him. “This really isn’t a good time, Lex.”
“Aye, tell me on it,” he replied, shifting himself out of the way so she could unlock her door. “Ain’t a good time for nobody, Tulip. Thinking it be just the opposite, dig. Crazy shit going down my side of town.”
She felt what he carried in his pocket before he pulled it out and gave it to her, before she even knew he carried anything at all.
“Where did you get that?”
He folded his arms, gave the ceiling an exasperated glance. “Ain’t you even gimme the invite in? Got some knowledge for you.”
She pushed the door open. The wards on it stung her skin as they reacted to the energy from the powder in her pocket and in her hand.
Terrible shoved past Lex to follow her into her apartment. The first thing she did was grab the African Blackwood box from its spot on the bottom shelf in her living room, toss both packets into it, and slam the lid. The weight of heavy clotted magic lifted from her shoulders. Much, much better.
Too bad she couldn’t put Lex in there, too. For that matter, too bad she couldn’t put the whole fucking day in there.
Terrible crossed to the fridge, gave her a questioning glance. Beer would be good, wouldn’t it, a cold— No. No, because she wanted to get a couple of Oozers down her throat immediately. No fucking way was she going to process what had happened sober. “Water.”
He grabbed a bottle of that and a beer, and walked to the counter at the edge of the kitchen.
“Could use me a beer, too, I could,” Lex said.
Terrible glared at him. “Fridge’s there.”
A long moment passed before Lex shrugged and crossed the floor. The silence was ugly.
Chess spoke a little too loudly in her haste to break it. “So where did that come from, Lex? What is it, where did you get it?”
“Took it offen some jaxers.” He twisted the cap off the beer. “Always got such cheap beer, you do. Why you ain’t buy better?”
“Because I want to piss you off, that’s why. Who did you take it off of? How did you find it?”
He acknowledged her sarcasm with a twist of his lips. “Four of em, dig, having theyselves a wander down the street on the yesterday. Seemed wrong, they did. Too spaced, like them bodies all stringy-loose. An scared as shit, they was, too, all balled together like tryna hide under theyselves, but having them some freaky-ass laughing. Were mighty fucked up, Tulip. Never seen any so bumberjaxed, I ain’t. Never seen powder like that, neither.”
He’d plunked himself down on the couch, right in the center so if either she or Terrible wanted to sit they’d be cozying up next to him.
She sat on the arm with her feet on the cushion, so she could face Terrible, still standing at the kitchen counter. “Do you know what it is?”
“Nay, but this ain’t the first time we got these, dig. Third time, seen two like it in the last week. So brought it here, aye. Figured on you giving me the help.”
“Why?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like you ain’t gonna.”
“No, I mean, why me? What can I do?”
“Thinkin you know what. ’Sall magic and ghost shit, it is.”
Yeah, she knew that. But how the hell did he know that? Lex had about as much magical ability as a plastic cup.
He must have seen the question in her eyes—well, she wasn’t exactly trying to hide it—because he tipped his head in the direction of the Blackwood box. “Take that box off in the dark, dig, an give it an open. Shit’s all glowing, it is. Damn freaky.”
Glowing? Fuck. That didn’t sound good, not at all.
Terrible followed her into the bathroom—the only room in the apartment without windows. It wasn’t light outside, no, but she wanted utter darkness for this.
She set the box on the toilet lid, hit the light switch, and opened it.
First the wave of dark magic rolled over her; she kept some unpleasant shit in that box, not just the packets but some curse items, a few things she’d found and a few she’d bought for security’s sake.
All of which she could see, because Lex had told the truth. The packets glowed. She shot a quick glance at Terrible. “You okay?”
He nodded. “’Sget he outta here, aye?”
That was probably for the best, huh. But first … “That guy, DV, he said his friend bought the speed off what’s-his-name—”
“Rickride.”
“Right. He’s one of yours, right? One of Bump’s?”
He nodded, his face white in the pale blue light from the open box.
“And now I guess one of Lex’s people sold the same bad speed. Do you guys get your stuff from the same—”
“Naw. Not what I got, anyroad. Don’t deal with the same supply.”
“So how is this happening, then? How—”
“Ain’t knowin that one, neither.” He glanced away from the box, his eyes glittering in the semi-darkness. “Guessin we got us a connection, though, like the speed and them bespelled dudes—Samms an he just now. The same, aye?”
“I guess so, but I don’t know—well, I don’t know how, or why. The speed doesn’t feel so much like that spell Samms had on him, the nut spell.”
“Be the same ones doin it? You got that from it?”
Damn it. She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask that. “I don’t know for sure. This feels male, like that did, but … there’s something different about it. I don’t know what it is, but something’s different.”
He nodded. “Dude back there ain’t had a nut on he, though. For bein controlled, like Samms.”
“No, he didn’t have much on him, did he?”
The eerie glow cast by the tainted speed illuminated his faint smile, the little tilt of his head. “Naw, that he ain’t.”
She saw his hand rising to touch her face, saw the look in his eye start to change, and tried to stop herself from saying the words already formed in her head, in her mouth. Too late. They popped out anyway. “I’m sorry. About the speed—about what happened when—I should have—”
“Ain’t yon fault.” She didn’t think he meant it, though. His eyes left hers, his shoulders lifted like a pair of scissor blades snapping the moment-that-might-have-been in half.
“It is my fault. And I should have found a— I’ll visit the church. I’ll do some more research and—”
“Aw,
