One Kiss: An Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy (Transmissions from The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe., #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

so fast that her bracelets didn't jingle different notes, but released one tone. Placing the feathered chicken foot on the top of the mausoleum, she continued to chant words that didn't mean anything to me. I took a step away from her, and then she turned around, slowly, bringing the smoke with her.
    The woman raised her hands above her head, the precious-metal bracelets tinkling as they fell down her arms. There was a smudge stick in her left hand: tightly tied sage, one end of it bright embers with pale smoke billowing from it. With each step she took toward me the sound of her chanting and the clinking of her bracelets grew louder. Her eyes swiveled in their sockets and she bowed from one side to the other, circling with the smoke, her chanting becoming more fervent.
    Raising her left foot, she bent her knee up to her waist and then slammed it down hard. Then she raised her right leg before crashing it down. Her chanting turned into yelling, spittle flying from her mouth; the smoke grew thicker as she danced in front of me, the sounds of beads and bracelets and chanting overwhelming. I pressed against the mausoleum behind me. 
    She stopped suddenly, falling to her knees, the white skirt puffed around her. Nodding her head forward, the woman kept her hands up in the air. The smoke pouring from the smudge stick was lit by the flames of the candle she'd left on the top of the crypt. She lowered the smudge stick down to her breast, the smoke clouding up over her, creating a thick curtain between us. I heard a sharp intake of breath and then she tipped to the side and collapsed onto the cemetery path. The smudge rolled to my feet, the smoke turning white as the stick tapped against my shoe.
    The soft sizzle of burning sage was the only sound. "Hello?" I said, my voice catching on the smoke and turning into a cough. I kicked the smudge stick away and it rolled down the path. I coughed as I bent down over the woman. Her face was totally relaxed. She had a delicate nose, full lips, long eyelashes, and a strong jawline. Lying still on the ground she looked different; younger and gentler, pretty. Her eyes popped open, startling me. "You cannot see her again," she said, her voice strong.
    "What?" The wind changed and smoke from the smudge stick blew back over us.
    She sat up and grabbed my shoulders, her fingers feeling like claws, reminding me of the chicken foot. "You must stop looking for her."
    "Do you know where she is?" I asked, my eyes burning, the smoke growing thicker.
    "You must not look for her," she said, her voice booming, bouncing back off the surrounding crypts.
    I struggled free of her grasp, pushing back into a standing position. "Do you know where she is?" I yelled at her. "Tell me!" Suddenly she was standing too. I felt disoriented by the smoke. The flame from her candle was glowing brighter. "I'll pay you more," I said and quickly turned to my purse, pulling out the other $20. Grasping it, I spun back to her. The candle backlit her and she seemed to be just a silhouette, a shadow I was begging for help.
    "No!" Her voice boomed around me. I thought I heard it coming from every corner of the graveyard. "You must stop looking for her. She is dead but not gone. The most dangerous place to be. Do not join her!"
    The candle flickered out, darkening the narrow space between the mausoleums. I felt the money slip from my fingers; a whoosh of air, and she was gone. I bent down over my purse and pulled out my cellphone, turning on the flashlight app. The air was clear; I aimed my beam of light at the altar. The candle was gone, as was the feathered chicken foot. Just a whiff of smoke remained. I could still smell the strong incense of sage, and just a hint of something rotten.
    Gathering up my fiddle and purse I hurried out of the graveyard, my flashlight making the spaces between the graves seem that much darker so that I ran, fear creeping up my spine making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

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