Wickedly Dangerous (Baba Yaga, #1)(39)
She lifted her head as they all trooped into the room. “What’s going on?” she said, then hoisted herself up with a grunt when she saw Baba. “Hey, I was going to come by and see you.” She held up the swollen arm. “I think there was something wrong with that stuff you sold me.”
Ouch. Baba could feel the dark, prickly aura coming off the arm from half the room away. She didn’t know what had caused it, but it wasn’t anything she’d made, that was for sure. She handed a twenty to Jesse, who stuffed it into his pocket as if afraid she’d change her mind, and went over to perch on the sofa next to Lily.
“May I take a look?” Baba asked, peeling off the soggy pack and handing it to the little boy. Lily’s pale skin was covered with tiny reddish bumps and the arm was so swollen it felt more like a tree limb than a human one. She laid her hands gently on the surface, feeling for the malignant energy that overlay the normal healthy muscle, bone, and skin and pulling it out, bit by bit, until it was gone. For good measure, she mended the original tendonitis, easing the strain and inflammation caused by too much lifting of small wriggling bodies.
It wasn’t a good idea to do such a blatant healing—one of the reasons she used herbs instead of magic most of the time. But this woman had trusted her to help, and she couldn’t just leave her suffering.
“Wow,” Lily said, her voice colored with something like awe. “That’s amazing. It feels so much better. What did you do? Reiki or something?”
“Um, yes, Reiki,” Baba said. The popular energy healing technique was as good a cover as any. “The salve should have worked without it, but since you seemed to have a bad reaction to something in the mixture, I thought I’d better use the, um, Reiki to fix it.”
Lily was so happy to have her arm back to a normal size; she clearly wasn’t interested in questioning the logic of the statement. “Gee, well I really appreciate it.” She glanced at her husband ruefully. “I guess we should give you your money back, since you cured the tendonitis after all.”
“Oh, no,” Baba said, waving one hand in negation. “Not after what you went through.” She paused, and then added, as if the thought had just come to her, “Although since you’re obviously not going to be using it, I’d be glad to have the salve back.”
“Sure thing,” Jesse said, and ran off to fetch it.
Baba enjoyed a cup of invisible tea with Trudy, Timmy, and the dolls until he got back, and was almost sorry to leave. She had a rare moment of wistfulness, thinking about what it might be like to have a child of her own. Impossible. But still, there were times . . .
“I apologize again for the bad reaction. That never happens,” Baba said to Lily on her way out.
Lily shrugged, her tired face still pretty and astonishingly cheerful, under the circumstances. They were clearly people who made the best of what they had. Baba found herself liking them a lot, and wondering if there was some way to help them out. Too bad that geese who lay golden eggs were no longer in fashion. And a surprise oil well in the backyard would only pollute the stream.
“Do you ever play the lottery?” she asked Jesse as he let her out the front door.
“Huh?” He shooed away a couple of chickens with one foot. “Sure, every once in a while, when we have an extra dollar to spare. Never won more than ten bucks, though.” Brown eyes gave her a puzzled look. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason.” she said, and waved good-bye to the kids, who waved back enthusiastically as she pulled out of the driveway. Their uncomplicated good will made her smile all the way to the main road, but her pleasant mood vanished as soon as she pulled to the side to check out the container that Jesse had returned to her.
It was hers, all right—a small white, almost translucent jar with a faint gray cursive BY etched onto the porcelain. But the contents inside bore only a passing resemblance to the salve she’d so lovingly crafted. Bits of dark green matter flecked what should have been a pure beige cream, and it smelled wrong, like rotting wood and curdled milk and the dawn of a sullen day after a night of bad storms.
What the hell?
Lips tight, Baba put the truck back into gear and pulled onto the highway, headed in the direction of the next address Bob had given her. There was something decidedly odd going on here, and she was going to find the explanation if it killed her. Or better yet, whoever was behind what was clearly a plot to discredit her. Somehow, she had a feeling Maya had her dainty hands in there somewhere. If that bitch was ruining Baba’s good name, there was going to be hell to pay.
*
BY THE TIME she got back home, Baba was so angry, she was shaking like an aspen in a hurricane. It was all she could do to roll the BMW down off the ramp she kept in the back of the truck and park it to the side of the trailer until she could find the time to fix the paint job. Right now, she had more important things to do. Like track down whoever was making her clients sick and beat the living crap out of them.
“Feeling better now that you have the bike back?” Chudo-Yudo asked when she came in the door. He was sprawled across the entire length of the couch, one large white paw holding his place in one of Baba’s historical romances. He liked to read as much as Baba did, although he preferred fantasy—especially those with dragons in them.
He ducked as one of her boots went flying across the Airstream and bashed into a cupboard on the far end. It was quickly followed by its mate, which hit the exact same spot with a hollow thud. A stream of cursing colored the air inside a light robin’s egg blue.