“All I can tell you is she was off on a tangent, Rickster,” Calamity called from his feet. “She went on and on about how she had to go to Littleton after she saw a picture of your old familiar Yash and found one of his crystals. January said she has the gift of intuition—”
“And if you’d stuck this shit out instead of goin’ all stiff upper lip, you’d know that, wouldn’t you, Rick?” Nina accused, driving a knuckle into his shoulder hard enough to make him wince.
But he deserved her scorn, her disgust. He had asked for a reprieve because Poppy’s dislike of Avis cut so deep. He’d needed time to parse how he was going to make both relationships work. He wanted his relationship with Poppy to work on more levels than just her assignment.
Wanda grabbed Nina by the arm so quickly, Rick almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Stop condemning a man for gathering his thoughts instead of spewing a bunch of crap and potty language to fill up space, Nina! Not everyone operates like you, Mistress of The Night. We don’t all just lash out. Now shut up and let’s figure this out. She was going on and on about getting to Littleton. Maybe that’s where she is?”
As he continued to process, something else cropped up. The word intuition. “Wait, what’s this about Poppy being intuitive?”
Wanda smoothed her gloves over her hands, fiddling with them in a nervous gesture. “January said she had the gift of intuition, but Poppy wasn’t sure if her intuition was muddied by this aura, or if she really was experiencing bad mojo about Littleton. So she kept it to herself because she had no proof to back up her claim other than a ‘feeling’.”
Same thing she’d said about Avis. Looking out into the dark of night, his street silent, he was once more reminded of the coming blood moon. His eyes scanned the sky; the swollen moon, still a buttery yellow, hadn’t begun the change yet, but the vibe was there. The ever-present warning about the things that could happen on the night of a blood moon.
Maybe that somehow tied into Poppy’s intuition? It wasn’t uncommon for the blood moon to create havoc and play tricks with your mind if you were emotionally sensitive and didn’t know how to handle the sensory overload. Poppy was new to this, maybe this was just a case of systems overload?
But then why was he having this sudden urge to find her at all costs? As though if he didn’t, something bad was going to happen? It didn’t matter, all that mattered was this time he wasn’t going to ignore his gut.
“Let’s forget everything else and find Poppy. We need to get there fast if I’m going to stop the demo.”
“Wait!” Darnell, one of the biggest men Rick had ever laid eyes on, ordered. “Man, don’t rush. We gotta fan out a little. You ladies go to Littleton, I’ll keep Carl close. If she’s there, y’all text me and I’ll come runnin’, but if she comes back here, I don’t want her to come back to nothin’. The blood moon makes for the crazy if you don’t know how to keep your head on straight. If that’s what’s doin’ this to her, I can help. Y’all good with that?”
Rick slapped him on the back, grateful to this stranger for jumping into the fray. “You’re right, Darnell. Thank you for keeping a level head.” Turning to the women, he asked, “Are we all in agreement?”
“Let’s find our Tiny Dancer,” Nina said, her mouth a determined slash of crimson on her face.
“All in!” Wanda shouted, looping her arm through Marty’s.
As Rick prepared to chant a transportation spell, first, he prayed he could actually pull it off. His magic was peanuts compared to most, but it was really peanuts because he hadn’t used it in so long.
Second, he prayed to the Goddess that they’d find their Tiny Dancer.
Chapter 18
The voice swirled around the empty halls of Littleton, all but deserted and dark with only the light from the streetlamps shining into the windows to illuminate the desolation.
The moon had risen, beautiful and soft, making her wonder when this blood moon thing happened. But the pull of it, the thread of connection Poppy felt to it, called to her in a way that left her distracted, and she reminded herself she had to stay focused and find Rick.
All the doors to each apartment had been removed, leaving each entryway she peeked into a stark reminder her days here were a closing chapter.
Sadness permeated the air as she fought her way up the stairs, calling out Rick’s name.
“Poppy!”
Now he sounded as though he was downstairs, maybe in the lobby? She’d just been there, and he was nowhere in sight. What was going on?
Stopping in the stairwell, she forced herself to gather her senses and listen. Really listen. “Rick, where are you?” she called out.
But there was no answer, so she followed the unmerciful wail of her name back down to the lobby, skidding out of the stairwell that dumped her to the left of the elevators.
It was all she could do to keep her feet under her when she heard someone say, “There you are!” Startling her almost to the point of making her cringe.