Witches Get Stitches Page 4

I shook my head against his chest, inhaling the woodsy, fresh scent of him. “I don’t know. I don’t know! I’m just so glad to see you. To see anything at all. It was so dark…” I sputtered out as I clung to his broad frame, my fingers clenching his denim shirt.

  He chuckled and whispered, “It is always darkest before dawn, yes, vanilla cupcake?”

  I let my head fall back on my shoulders as I gazed up into his handsome face, fighting more tears. “Is this the road to Plane Limbo?”

  I’d never asked either of them what road they’d traveled to get where they’d ended up. There were many roads to choose, from what I’d heard. The chattier ghosts I’d interacted with in all my years as a witch/medium often shared their journeys with me, but I can’t say as I ever remember any of them mentioning this particular one.

  “It is one of many, from the talk I hear from the others,” Arkady confirmed as he stared down at my face in wonder—and then his expression went hesitant and dark. “What does this mean, malutka? How are you here? Are you…?”

  I let my cheek rest against his massive chest and closed my eyes with a deep breath. Seeing him, knowing he’d died and was currently a ghost on Plane Limbo, didn’t look good for me, did it? I mean, in some cases, that’s where you land first after you die, right? And from there, you decide whether you want to cross over into the final light.

  So I had to be dead.

  My knees began to shake and my heart pounded uncomfortably in my chest and ears. Had we gone through all of that mess to bring Win back, only for me to end up kaput? Was the universe that cruel? And if I really was dead, how did it happen?

  I don’t remember anything traumatic happening to me. Certainly, finding a Givenchy dress as adorable as the one in that store window was anything but.

  However, I wouldn’t be the first spirit unable to remember how they’d died, or even know they’d died. But what other explanation was there for my arrival on Plane Limbo?

  “I don’t know how I got here, Arkady. And you don’t have to pussyfoot around the word. Let’s get it out in the open and get it over with. I don’t know if I’m here because I’m dead.”

  He stirred, shifting positions with his feet while, I suspect, he was busy choosing his words carefully.

  “Come with me, malutka. Come and we will sit by the waterfall and figure out, dah?”

  Setting me from him, he took my hand in his beefy paw and pulled me toward the magnificent light, twinkling and almost pulsing with an overwhelming feeling of joy.

  And I went willingly. I didn’t even consider this wasn’t the man I’d spent the last couple years laughing with, solving crimes with. I never once considered he wasn’t the person who’d helped me out of a multitude of jams. But I’ll tell you, if I was being hoodwinked by some elaborate cloaking spell, it was a darn good one.

  Arkady stopped just before we crossed the threshold into the compelling light and smiled down at me with a warm grin.

  “Go slow, malutka. It is much to take in at first. Believe Arkady Bagrov when he tell you, it is so beautiful here, so brilliant with color and sound, you must not let it overwhelm you. You must absorb and process, okey-doke? But I will help. It is my honor.”

  The breath I let out was a shaky one, but I nodded and squeezed his hand, still thrilled beyond reason that he was the one helping me cross into this place I’d heard so much about. Grateful I wasn’t alone, as most are when they enter Plane Limbo.

  I tucked myself against his arm and clung to his hand, noting my head just reached the middle of his arm. “I’m with you, and that makes me feel safe. That’s all I need, Arkady,” I whispered.

  With that, we took a couple of steps forward into the magnificence of the light…

  And suddenly, I was bathed in warmth, wreathed in unadulterated joy. My entire being, my soul, practically glowed and throbbed inside me like some strange, wonderful entity. I felt more alive and loved than I ever had before.

  “Oooh, Arkady…” I breathed, because it was all I could manage, for it was truly as overwhelming as he’d claimed.

  He patted my hand and tucked it into his side with a chuckle. “It is as I say, yes, malutka?”

  Instead of letting my eyes roam over the entirety of the landscape, I only took in small portions, and even that was awe-inspiring. From the unreal emerald-green color of the grass, to the rows and rows of assorted pastel-colored flowers cascading to the ground off in the distance. I felt such bone-deep peace.

  While we walked, my lips lifted in a tremulous smile when a spirit waved at Arkady and bestowed a warm, welcoming glance. The spirit looked away when I waved, but I didn’t care. It was too stupendous here to feel slighted.

  Arkady stopped and let me assess the waterfall I’d heard so much about, but even Win’s description couldn’t do it justice. As it babbled, the splashes of water hitting the pool of azure below was almost musical, the droplets spraying about shining like crystals in the gentle glow of the buttery sun.

  The ragged edges of the rocks encompassing the waterfall in shades of graphite and dusky purple jutted forward, creating a cliff where luminous spirits sat together, deep in conversation.

  Pink and white cherry blossom trees in all their splendid glory surrounded the falls and paths that led to unknown destinations, waiting to be explored. The flowers sprouting from the limbs were ten times the size of the ones you’d see on Earth, and as I let go of Arkady’s hand and wandered in my awe to reach out and touch one, I laughed in surprise at the velvety-soft texture against my fingertips.

  Plucking one, I rubbed it against my cheek with a happy sigh, only to watch another immediately grow in its place.

  “Oooh, Arkady… It’s…” I held up the flower to my nose and inhaled the sweet scent with a shake of my head in wonder at how impossible this all appeared. “It’s so…incredible…”

  My heart literally hurt from so much amazing, and tears stung my eyes.

  His sharply contoured face lifted in a wide smile and his eyes sparkled. “Dah, my beautiful friend. It is all those things and more. Now you understand why Arkady Bagrov does not wish to leave, eh?”

  I was uplifted by the sheer bliss as I looked around at the mass of spirits milling about; at path after path of green grass and peachy-gray cobblestone; at the sky so cerulean, with clouds so white and puffy, they looked like floating marshmallows.

  And then my heart sank a little. I certainly understood why no one would want to leave this place. If wherever the light led you had to stand up against the beauty of Plane Limbo, I’m not sure I’d take the chance and leave it, either.

  But I had a family down there. I had Belfry and Whiskey and Strike. Most of all, I had Win, and while it would never be as brilliant down on average old Earth—its beauty could surely never compare to this—I was positive I’d choose the realm Win was on…always.

  Arkady cupped my chin with his burly hand. “You think of Zero, yes? Come. We sit on bench and talk.”

  He led me to the infamous bench where he and Win had spent a great deal of their time and motioned for me to sit, and as I did, my eyes widened in surprise.

  Of course, like everything else here in this magical world, the bench was a work of art. Made out of some glossy wood I was unfamiliar with, its buttery tones and dark brown grains glowed the way everything else did.

  But as my brain expected to find the seat hard when my backside settled against it, instead I found the surface as soft as down, cupping my body as though it were made specifically for me.

  Arkady draped his arm over the back of the bench and chuckled again, the deep, melodic huskiness of it warming my quaking heart.

  “It is wonderful we meet for first time in such magnificent splendor, eh, malutka?”

  “Oh, Arkady, it is. But…” I chewed on the inside of my lip. I felt as though I’d been given some ethereal gift, and I was spitting in the face of it, because as perfect as this setting was, as much as I loved Arkady, I wanted to be home—with Win.

  “But if yo
u are here, you must be dead. This worries your pretty head,” he said with a cluck of his tongue.

  I nodded, fighting the sting of hot tears. “Yes. It definitely worries my head. I mean, how did I get here, Arkady? I don’t understand. The last thing I remember is entering the vintage shop…and then nothing. I woke up to that black void and my purse was gone. It makes no sense.”

  “Sometimes death make no sense, chocolate chip. No sense at all. Sometimes spirits do not remember how they die. Maybe you don’t remember…”

  I turned to look at him, his handsome face more perfect than I could have ever imagined in my head, and patted his ruddy cheek.

  “No one knows that better than me, Arkady. I do understand death. I truly do. I’m not afraid of it because of what I’ve learned as a medium—and especially because of you and Win. But if I’m really dead, what happened? Or is this some sort of cosmic joke someone’s playing on me? Maybe payback from Baba Yaga?”

  “I do not believe your Baba would do this, but if you worry about payback, I think you mean someone like the bad man Adam Westfield, dah?”

  My stomach lurched. “I do.”

  Arkady’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he ran a hand over his perfectly groomed dark brown goatee. “This is a mystery then, yes?”

  I looked around at all the happy faces of the spirits who’d chosen to linger here and felt deep remorse for rebuking the perfection of this plane, shrugging my shoulders.

  “I guess it is,” I murmured, afraid my sourpuss thoughts would cause a ripple in the force of utter magic existing here on Plane Limbo.

  “And what do we do when there is mystery, malutka?” he asked, nudging my shoulder with his.

  I nodded my head in affirmation. I wanted the gesture to come off with confidence, but it felt a little shaky. “Solve it.”

  “Dah!” he roared with enthusiasm, making some of the spirits turn to look at us.

  And then I cocked my head. Speaking of spirits, here’s a question. Why was everyone translucent and a little milky, while I was still solid? That had to mean something, right?

  Gripping Arkady’s arm, I asked, “Why is everyone see-through but me?”

  “See-through? Arkady Bagrov does not understand this see-through.”

  I held up his arm next to mine. “Look at me. I’m solid. But I can see right through you.”

  He blinked his wide green eyes and looked at his own arm, then my hand, with a small gasp. “You are right. Maybe this is clue, yes?”

  “Do you know what it means? Have you always been see-through? Was Win? I mean, I’ve heard of mediums who can actually see ghosts, and they’re always milky, but that’s because they’ve traveled so far to get back to the earthly plane and their molecules, or some such scientific word Bel once gave me, break up on the trip downstairs. Sort of in the same way bad reception on a TV makes that fuzzy static, you know? But is it the same up here on Plane Limbo?”

  Arkady looked around at his fellow spirits and shook his head. “It has always been this way. For both of us.”

  “Have you seen anyone remain solid like me?”

  He blinked again then shook his head. “No, malutka.” His answer was so solemn, I didn’t know if this was going to work in my favor or not.

  I patted his knee as my heart skipped a beat with the hope that maybe this was a sign I wasn’t truly dead. “Then maybe it is a clue.”

  Arkady grabbed my hand and held it loosely. “So what do we do now, apple strudel? What is next?”

  Now I blinked as the waterfall rushed and the clouds drifted by like creamy white mashed potatoes. A small part of me wanted to sit right here with Arkady on the most comfortable bench my backside had ever graced while I closed my eyes and allowed the sounds of peaceful joy to seep into my bones.

  But I couldn’t do that with Win still on the mend. I didn’t want to do that when there was still so much between us to explore.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I can ask anyone questions about what happened to me until we find out why I’m here and what in the heck is going on.”

  I was a jumble of confusion right now. I’m usually pretty good about knowing what to do next when the problem has nothing to do with me, but I was left feeling overwhelmed by my surroundings, by meeting Arkady, and most of all, by landing on Plane Limbo.

  I needed to clear the cobwebs out of my brain and get myself together.

  “Zero!” Arkady shouted, springing up off the bench with such force, I jumped. “We will ask Zero!”

  Staring up at him, I couldn’t help but think, duh, Stevie. Why didn’t you think of that? I felt foolish that I hadn’t thought of it first, but I was so off my game here in this astoundingly beautiful place, I couldn’t seem to get my footing.

  So I jumped up, too, and gestured to him with my hand. “Okay, so do your magic. Make it happen.”

  “Magic?”

  I flapped my hands again and pointed downward. “Yes! Contact Win. Make him appear. Do what you do when you’re hassling me about watching too many Real Housewives marathons.”

  He made a face of distaste, wrinkling his nose. “That show will turn brains into week-old borscht, malutka. Everybody always pick-pick-pick at each other like pecking hens with big plastic lips and bigger bank accounts.” Clamping his fingers together, he clapped them open and shut under my nose.

  “Hens don’t have lips,” I joked. “Now quit mocking my love of a good Botox-filled dumpster fire and let’s contact Win.”

  I’m not sure what I was expecting when Arkady called his name. I didn’t know if I’d be able to see him in the way Arkady could, but he was our only hope of figuring out what happened to me.

  Just as Arkady spoke Win’s name, cocking his ear to listen for a response, the ground below us opened up, making me wobble and grab at his burly arm.

  He laughed and steadied me with a supportive hand. “It is not real, malutka. You will not fall. But you can see, yes?”

  And there it was, as if on an enormous Imax movie screen. Win, Whiskey, Strike and Bel, all gathered around my Spy Guy’s enormous bed on his rust-and-blue sheets, chatting and laughing in his meticulously decorated bedroom.

  Honest to Pete, it left me awestruck. “Is this how you see me when we talk?”

  He grinned with a chuckle. “Dah, malutka. It is how we help you out of big pickle.”

  I saw Win look up at the sound of Arkady’s chuckle. “Hey, old chap. We were just gearing up for a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit. Join us?”

  “Zero, there is no time for games. We have big fish to fry—”

  “Win!” I couldn’t help but yell out, cutting off Arkady.

  Win blinked, confusion spreading across his handsome face as he looked around his bedroom. “Stephania?”

  I jumped up and down and waved my hands. “It’s me! I’m up here!”

  “Malutka!” Arkady hissed, grabbing my hand. “He cannot see you. He can only hear. Now you must not cause such ruckus. It sometimes frightens new spirits.”

  Indeed, as I looked around the landscape of Plane Limbo, there were plenty of see-through faces with frowns and wide eyes.

  I looked down at my feet in guilt. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I muttered. “It’s just so amazing that I’m actually here…with you…”

  Arkady patted my arm and looked downward. “Zero? You must listen to Arkady Bagrov. We have problem.”

  Win sat up straight, swinging his legs awkwardly over the side of the bed with Bel in his ear. “Easy there, big guy. No sudden movements or Nurse Crabby Patty’ll have my head.”

  But he swished Belfry away and frowned. “I’m fine, Belfry. Let me be. Now, what kind of problem do we have, Arkady, and why am I hearing Stephania as though she’s on speakerphone?”

  “Because I kinda am on speakerphone, International Man of Mystery.”

  “What?” he boomed in his uppity British way.

  “The biggest speakerphone ever,” I joked, because it was the only thing I could do short of crying.<
br />
  “Stephania, if this is your idea of a joke, I’m in no mood. I had a particularly rough go of physical therapy with Ludwig yesterday afternoon, and I’m quite out of sorts.”

  Ludwig was a beast of a man Nurse Gloria had brought in to help Win get back into shape. He was the size of a tank, spoke maybe ten words total each time he showed up for a session, and had the personality of a rock—in other words, he was all business. And Win loved that, admired it even. That is, until evening came and he felt as though he’d been run over by a truck full of bricks.

  I winced. “Oh, this isn’t a prank, Spy Guy. It’s very real.”

  He ran a hand through his charcoal-black hair and sighed in exasperation. “Spit it out, Stephania. Enough with the games. What is going on?”

  “Yeah,” Bel crowed, buzzing around the ceiling of the room, his tiny white wings flapping. “What’s going on? You should be knee deep in musty old designer clothes and shoes by now.”

  I put my hands behind my back and twisted my fingers together in a fist, suddenly quite hesitant.

  “Well, about that—”

  “Stephania!” Win boomed, his lips turning into a thin line.

  “Okay, okay. Stop being such a crankybutt. So listen, here’s the thing. One minute I was shopping at that cute vintage store, the next I was…”

  I couldn’t help but trail off. I mean, how did I explain this?

  “Discovering there really is no limit on your platinum credit card? Buying a Maserati? Lunching with the queen?”

  “Dead,” I blurted out, then winced once more.

  Belfry gasped and covered his eyes with his wings.

  Now Win really frowned; frowned so hard, the lines in his normally smooth forehead furrowed. “Repeat, please?”

  I sighed and cleared my throat. “Dead. I said, I think I might be dead.”

  Upon those words, Win lost his footing and slipped off the bed and onto the floor as though he were boneless.

  And then his face went crimson with what I suspect wasn’t so much embarrassment but rage, because his lips curled inward and that little vein on his temple pulsed.

  Oh heavens.