“I hate to tell you this, but the parts to fix her alone are going to run you fifteen hundred dollars, and that doesn’t include the labor. You need a new transmission. I can’t repair the old one—it’s already had so many patches that it looks like Frankenstein’s monster. Rough estimate with labor, it’s going to cost you twenty-five hundred to three thousand, depending on how much the other repairs cost. Faulty brake pads, you have some wiring that’s shot…I’m going to say plan for at least thirty-five hundred.”
“Thirty-five hundred dollars?” I almost shouted, I was so startled. I paused, then winced. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect…”
“Look, these are great cars, but even the best car is going to fall apart when it’s mistreated and I can tell this one was used for street racing, it was in a couple collisions…it’s just been beat ragged and if I were you, I’d put her to bed and buy a new one.” He sounded genuinely apologetic. “I don’t make any money off telling you to do that, but I’m an honest guy, and if I don’t think it’s worth the cost, then…I’ll tell you.”
I murmured a thank-you. “I really appreciate your honesty. I’ll let you know.” I hung up and looked at Ari. “I have to buy a new car.”
“I heard. Over three thousand dollars for repairs?”
“New transmission, new brake pads, and wiring. Altogether, it spells money pit. I guess I’ll break down and go car shopping. It’s too rough out today, but I’m going to have to before next week. Now I have to decide what I want.” I sat back down at the table, frowning. I knew very little about buying cars.
“Take Killian,” Ari said.
“Why?”
“Because guys at the dealerships are usually assholes and they’ll take advantage of you if they can possibly do so. Take Killian—they won’t mess around with him, and he won’t let them.” She shrugged. “I know it sounds anti-feminist, but I’m being realistic. Most car dealers out there are blowhards.”
“That just makes me want to take them on myself,” I said. “I might take him with me, but I’m doing the dealing.” I paused, then grinned at her. “Hey, I talked to all the reps that we cut contracts with at the magazine. I’m the one who struck the deals.” I sobered, thinking about how the magazine I had lovingly curated and tended no longer existed. “I’m not sure if I’m angry at Ellison for being so stupid, or for expecting me to help him pick up the pieces.”
“Probably both,” Ari said. “Seriously, don’t let him glom. If you need me over here to kick his butt to the curb, just ask. I’m set and primed to let him have it after what he did to you.”
I grinned. It was nice to have my best bud by my side.
Teran returned to the kitchen. “Louise is sleeping. It’s going to take her some time to gather her strength and I think it would probably be best to take her home with me. I have a one-story house and it won’t tire her out as much to walk around.” She sat down. “She’s really upset about putting us out so much, but I told her to stop worrying.”
“I hope we can clear out the ghosts so she can return to her restaurant. It’s a nice little place, and frankly, I don’t know what other options she has. Selling a place that’s as haunted as the Spit & Whistle is, well, not easy.” I rested my elbows on the table. “All right, let’s talk over what we’re going to do.”
“The ghosts aren’t that difficult. I think we can convince the original owners to leave, and the others, we can use spirit traps on.” Teran shrugged. “I haven’t done an exorcism in a while, but I remember the procedure.”
“I have,” Ari said. “Four months ago, Meagan’s best friend ended up on the wrong end of a ghost that wouldn’t leave, so she asked me to help her. I realized that the spirit was deeply entrenched into the land, so I created a spirit trap and boom…worked like a charm.”
“What’s a spirit trap?” I felt so far behind them, but I also knew that if I didn’t ask questions, I wouldn’t get the answers I needed.
“It’s like flypaper for ghosts, only a lot more expensive. Ghosts love energy, so we charge lodestones with a massive shot of juice—magic—and then when the ghost tries to siphon it off, the lodestone pulls them into it and traps them there.”
“Really?” I’d never heard of using lodestones for trapping ghosts.
Lodestones were naturally magnetized stones that were primarily composed of magnetite, with various inclusions. However, only a small percentage of magnetite rock forms were magnetic, and there were theories that being near the sites of lightning strikes may have triggered the magnetic properties. Most lodestones were found near the surface of the earth, supporting the hypothesis. Lodestones, on a magical level, were used in alchemical or transformational magic, and tended to be protective in nature.
“So, we charge the lodestones and then set them in the restaurant and…what?”
“We have to set a binding spell on it,” Teran said. “That way, when the spirit begins to vacuum energy from it, the spell will trigger and entangle the ghost, drawing it into the lodestone. Then we safely transfer that spirit out of the building.”
“What do we do with it afterward?”
“We can either choose to leave it in the lodestone, which can be cruel but with malevolent beings, might be desirable. Or if we want to free the spirit, we take it to a medium who specifically works with helping to guide spirits over through the Veil. They can free the spirit and send it on its way.”
I found a notebook on the kitchen counter and wrote down what she said. “I should memorize this. I also need to start a book of shadows, like my mother had.”
“That would be a good idea,” Teran said.
“So, where do we find lodestones that are the size we need?” Ari asked.
“The Broom & Besom should have them. I’ll call the owners and see if they’ll open up for us today.” Teran stood, stretching. “In fact, I’ll go do that now.”
As she pulled out her phone, Ari and I headed into the living room. “So, what kind of a car should I get?” I glanced out the window. I had hated my car when I first got it—it had been used, and with Ellison buying the brand-new convertible, I had felt shunted to the side. But Cookie and I had been through hell together. Now, I felt a little guilty about consigning her to the great junkyard in the sky.
“What do you need from it?” Ari said, curling up on the sofa. The morning was overcast, but only a few flakes were forecast today, and the temperatures were supposed to warm up into the mid-thirties. It would thaw and melt just long enough to freeze come nightfall.
“Good in snow and ice, handy on hills. If I take a trip out to Mount Baker, and I’m sure I will, I need the ability to sleep inside the car if push comes to shove.”
“Something useful, then?” Ari flashed me a smile. “I know you, January. You’re not going to buy a car based solely on its looks. You like function as much as you like form.”
“True that,” I acknowledged. “I love pretty, but it has to work.” I settled on the sofa next to her. “I’m debating about whether to keep my mother’s athame or buy a new one. Ritual daggers are so attuned to their owners that I’m not sure if too much of my mother’s energy would clash with my own magic.” Even though I was her daughter, our tools weren’t automatically interchangeable.