American Bruja: The Los Angeles Cauldron

Chapter 21. Amber McBride

Monday, August 8, 2011, 2:00 a.m. Los Angeles

My heart's pounding as dark shapes jump from boulders ringing the western end of the grotto. As they race toward us, the strangers cast black shadows under the full moon.

Max steps out from under the old oak's sheltering branches to scan the trail we hiked. Finding no attackers coming from the east, he takes a position in front of us.

Time seems to slow as one intruder trips over one of the many rocks dotting the basin. The stranger catches air, then hits the stone with a yelp. Max lets out a chuckle and adjusts his suit jacket like he's meeting a dinner date. Jonah shrieks and hides behind the big Russian.

Dr. Morton's to my immediate right, her face calm as she chants in a foreign language. Noelle darts behind the oak to the boulder from which it grows. Dropping to one knee, she reaches into a crevice hidden behind the trunk and pulls out a six-foot branch. A slight smile forms as she tosses the wooden staff between her hands. She plants herself to my left.

Marisol shoves between me and Dr. Morton. Her chin lifts and, for a split-second, her soft features harden into a skeletal mask. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end when she growls, "Idiotas." Idiots.

A sudden gust of hot air brings a sweet, sickly smell. The wind roars as the strangers rush our hill. I step away from Marisol to collide with Dr. Morton. A hazy white glob appears in front of her face, then stretches to the size of a person. Its gauzy edges sharpen to form a skinny old white woman wearing a hospital gown. The wind blows the back of her gown open and ruffles her grey bob. The grotto must be a vortex! I've never seen the elements affect a ghost.

A sick feeling spreads through my stomach as I notice the nubby stump where her left leg should be.

Jonah glances over his shoulder and his nose crinkles in disgust. "I can't unsee this shit!"

Dr. Morton sighs. "Susan, you've looked better."

The ghost snarls. "You'll carve up real nice!"

I should be scared, but heat rushes through my body. My palms burn as the intruders reach our group. With a deep growl, a black lab leaps from behind the oak. As his sleek form sails through the ghost, I recognize him as the mysterious dog who saved Kibbles in the portal. The lab slams into one pudgy man and sends him tumbling into the dry stream bed.

A sharp whistle sounds as Max tackles another man. Noelle's staff whooshes and connects with a thwack as she sends a third sprawling. Five men jump on Max. With a howl, Jonah throws himself on the man atop the pile and bites him on the shoulder. They tumble to the ground. Noelle is a whirlwind, yelling, "Kiai!" as she whacks the men atop Max.

The ghostly old white woman opens her mouth and lets loose a screeching wail. Dr. Morton raises her left hand eye-level with the ghost, then makes a sweeping motion toward the lone oak. Her gesture sends the ghost sideways to slam into the tree's trunk.

Memories of bullies flood my mind as a middle-aged white woman reaches me and takes a swing. Rage surges up my spine. I've never been in a fight, but my hand devours her fist in a tight squeeze. She screams as her fingers curl like a dying spider.

Dropping to her knees, she howls. "It burns!" I release my grip to kick her in the chest. My heart's pounding as the force of my blow knocks her backward. With a snarl, the black lab bites her shoulder and drags her into the dry creek bed.

My breathing's ragged as I scan the grotto. Dr. Morton's under the oak with the ghost she called "Susan." Max's attackers are now in a heap, being kicked and whacked by Jonah and Noelle. At the basin's center, eight strangers surround a group of four men. The tallest's handsome features are clearly visible in the moonlight. George Salvia. My heart skips a beat.