Black Magic Woman Read Online Free PDF

able to provide assistance."
    "Only 'sometimes?'"
    "Yep, afraid so. It all depends on the nature of the problem, and what the client expects in the way of a solution. For example, I've been asked more than once to raise the dead."
    "Are you serious?"
    Another shrug. "The people who asked me were sure enough serious. But necromancy is not something that I practice—and I mean never. That kind of thing comes strictly under the heading of black magic. I don't perform black magic, and I don't mess around with those who do."
    "So, what does that leave?" LaRue asked. "White magic? Do you perform that, whatever it is?"
    "I've got some very limited skills in that area, Mr. LaRue. But I have several associates whose expertise in that area is far greater than mine. I call upon them, from time to time."
    "Maybe you should put 'warlock' on your tax forms," LaRue suggested with a tiny smile.
    "That'd be wrong, too," Morris said. "But maybe we'd be better off identifying your problem, Mr. LaRue. I assume you're looking for some sort of… intervention?"
    "Yeah," LaRue said, nodding slowly. "I guess that's what I need, all right. If 'intervention' is a fancy way of saying, 'help, and a lot of it, and right away,' then it could be that's just what I need."
    Morris made a slight gesture. "Go on."
    "There are these—these occurrences, these events that have been happening to my family the last three months. My wife and kids are terrified, and if I wasn't such a big, tough he-man, I suppose I would be, too." The second cousin of a smile appeared on LaRue's haggard face, but only for a second. "And the thing is, it's getting worse. It was puzzling at first, then annoying, but now I think it means us harm."
    Morris kept silent but nodded his understanding.
    "There were little things, in the beginning," LaRue said. "Objects falling over when nobody's near them, a door closing by itself, stuff like that. You tell yourself that it's just the vibrations from truck traffic, or a breeze getting in through cracks in the foundation. It's easy to explain it away at first."
    "But you're not trying to explain it away any more," Morris said quietly.
    "No, not for the last couple of weeks. Because now I'm pretty sure it, whatever it is, wants to kill us."
    "Explain what you mean, please. Be as specific as you can."
    "Well, one evening last week my wife and I were in the kitchen putting dinner together when our big carving knife jumped out of the rack and buried its point in the cutting board I'd just been using. If I hadn't jerked away, it might've pinned my wrist right there, just like a pin through a bug in some kid's science project."
    "Dangerous, for sure," Morris said, nodding. "And frightening. But not really life-threatening."
    "No? Not life-threatening?" There was anger in LaRue's voice now. "Then how about last Saturday night? My daughter Sarah, eight years old, was having her bath while my wife stood a few feet away in front of the mirror, using her hair dryer. She swears the dryer just flew out of her hand, sailed through the air, and splashed down into the bathtub, which, I might remind you, contained one little girl, surrounded by a whole bunch of water." The voice was almost a snarl. "Is that life-threatening enough for you? Is it?"
    Morris held up a hand, palm forward. "Please, Mr. LaRue, I wasn't trivializing your concern for your family's safety." His voice was calm, soothing. "I tend to categorize paranormal events, and sometimes I think out loud. I meant no offense."
    LaRue took a couple of audible deep breaths. "No, listen, it's not you, I'm sorry. I'm just on edge a lot these days. Not your fault."
    "Your daughter, was she—"
    "No, she wasn't electrocuted. The hair dryer's got a short cord—maybe they make 'em deliberately short, I don't know— so just before reaching the tub it yanked its own plug out of the wall. Hell, Sarah was hardly upset by it at all, just surprised. That is, until her mother became hysterical, and I really