Dark Alchemy by Laura Bickle Read Free Book Online

three tries to peel it over her face without the red touching her lips or eyes. It had soaked through to her bra and skin. She pulled the rest of her clothes off, reached past Maria’s daisy-­patterned shower curtain for the shower tap, and stepped in.
    She scrubbed until her skin was raw and pink, letting the water and the soap do its work. Gradually, the scent of the cedar soap permeated her skin, calmed her. No red—­it was gone.
    When she stepped out of the shower, she surveyed her clothes. The bra and tank top were ruined, but her pants seemed fine and she pulled them on. Maria’s shirt, a gauze peasant top, wasn’t designed for a bra, anyway. It was a chocolate brown color, off the shoulder, with smocking that wrapped around her waist. She had to admit to herself that it was pretty. Petra hadn’t owned feminine clothes in years. This felt . . . different. It didn’t smell like salt, unlike everything she owned. This smelled like land, like it had been dried in sunshine and kept in a closet with lavender sachets.
    She padded out of the bathroom in bare feet, the ruined shirt and bra balled in her hands.
    â€œFeel better?” Maria stood at the kitchen counter, chopping herbs. Pearl perched on top of the refrigerator, taking a bath. Her tail tickled the colorful kitchen magnets studding its surface.
    â€œYes, thanks. I hope I didn’t use up all your hot water.”
    â€œThere’s always more. You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”
    Petra shook her head. She didn’t believe in Frankie’s supposed special powers, but didn’t trust her reactions around Frankie’s drunken fishing. “I appreciate it. But I should get back.”
    Maria nodded, wiping the knife off in a dish towel. “Truck title’s on the table. Sign off, and I’ll notarize it.”
    â€œYou’re a notary, too?”
    â€œI wear a lot of hats. Pearl will be our witness.”
    Petra signed while Pearl watched from her perch until her attention was arrested by a refrigerator magnet that was fun to push around the surface of the fridge. While Maria stamped the document, Petra fished her money out of her cargo pants and handed eight hundred to Maria. The other woman didn’t bother to count it, stuffing the wad into a cookie jar on the counter. She opened one of the upper cabinets and dug around for a blue bottle about the size of her hand with a screw-­on cap. Sunlight glistened through the bottle, outlining a shadow of plant matter inside. She handed the bottle to Petra.
    â€œTake this.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œA sleep potion. I call it ‘Liquid Dreamcatcher.’ Nothing harmful or illegal. Just herbs and rum.”
    Petra swirled the contents of the bottle around. “I look that rattled?”
    â€œYou look like you need to sleep. That will help. Two sips should take you to dreamland.” Maria took a card off the counter and handed it to Petra. Her brown eyes were warm. “This is my card. If you need anything, and not just with the truck . . . Call me.”
    The card was plain white, with Maria’s name and the LISW designation below it, listing her address and phone number at the Family Center. On the back was a number scratched in red pen. “That’s my cell number, when you’re ready to talk.”
    â€œThanks. A lot. I mean it. And . . . I will call.”
    And it felt like she meant it.

 
    Chapter Four
    Blood
    â€œL ook what the cat dragged in.”
    Gabe slammed the truck door and leaned heavily on the fender. His fuzzy vision settled on a figure outside the barn holding an axe.
    â€œBoss.” Gabe tipped his hat with his bloody knuckle, leaving a wet smudge on the brim.
    Rutherford approached, inspecting Gabe’s injuries. He poked Gabe in the shoulder with the axe handle. Gabe winced.
    â€œWhat the hell happened to you?” Amusement lit in Rutherford’s