Page 119 of Throwing Shade
I stumbled over the threshold, my eyes watering at the reek of lavender.
“Leave your sandals on,” he said, heading down the hallway. “I don’t like feet.”
Tatiana had sent me to a madman.
Dumbfounded, I followed Max to a living room at the back of the house and my mouth fell open. Everything was covered in plastic. Not just the sofa, or even the coffee table, which was weird enough, but even the old television and the clock on the wall.
When I sat down, the plastic creaked.
He dropped into his old recliner, taking his time to settle in, like he had to warm up the plastic to mold it to his body. “Dybbuks, huh? Bad business. You want my advice? That was my advice. Bad business. You don’t listen too well, do you?”
I leaned forward, my ass sliding on the plastic. “I don’t have the luxury of avoiding them. Do you know how to get one out of an enthralled person?”
He groaned. “If I say yes, are you going to make me show you?”
“That’s the general idea.”
“Do I have to show you how to kill one that’s already possessed a host, too?”
“Got that covered.”
“That’s something at least,” Max said. “Dazzle me with your knowledge.”
“I say the word ‘mut,’ tear out the possessed host’s heart, and cleave the dybbuk in half with my shadow scythe,” I said. “Is it a similar technique for someone who’s enthralled?”
“Ha. Try it.” Max waved his arms like a magician doing a trick. “And be amaaaazed when the person punches you in the face for trying to rip their chest open. But hey, if you do, I suggest faking your death and finding a country without an extradition treaty.”
“Obviously, I didn’t mean tearing out their heart,” I said. “Just using the scythe and the die command.”
“Why would you actually tear out their heart to release the dybbuk anyway? So much mess.” He grimaced.
“That’s what someone I know does.”
Max stared at me for a beat and then made a raspberry noise. “You mean the wolf? Don’t model him. You’re Banim Shovavim.” Max’s gruff admiration made me think he saw my magic as superior to his own Ohrist powers. “Your magic is entirely different. Have some pride.”
I pressed my palms flat against the yellowed plastic. “Then how do I kill a dybbuk when the host is fully possessed?”
He pulled the handle on the recliner and the footstool popped out. “Stabbing them in the heart with your scythe is enough because of your magic. The dybbuk will leave the corpse for you to kill it.”
“And with someone who’s only enthralled?”
“It’s similar, but with an important caveat.”
“Will this work for Laurent as well?” If I could teach him how to save the enthralled, I wouldn’t feel so guilty about not doing it myself.
“Did I or did I not just tell you that you’re Banim Shovavim with different magic? That jumped up do-gooder is lucky he can kill the possessed. This is beyond his abilities.”
My heart sank. “Is there anything he can do for enthralleds?”
“Not that I know of.”
I nodded. “Okay. What do I do?”
He shifted to one side and let out a fart. Then he grabbed a can of odor eliminator and blasted it.
I coughed at the lavender spray that hit me in the face.
“Stand up,” Max said. “Let me run through some things with your magic.”
