Mark of the Witch

Too bad I was too scared to move.

She stared at me in the mirror, then suddenly shouted, “Remember, Indira!”

After jumping out of my skin, I yelled right back at her. “Remember what, for cryin’ out loud!”

“I’ll make you remember!” I sort of heard her say inside my head. Then she lifted a big curved blade that glinted in the fluorescent restroom lights as she swung it down to carve me up some more.

That was enough to end my paralysis. I spun around, screaming at the top of my lungs. But there was no one behind me.

Before I could even sigh in relief, though, I heard the hissing sound of the invisible blade as it cut the air, and something slashed across my chest. I felt it slicing my flesh, saw the gaping cut opening up like a zipper, saw the blood flowing out of me as I sank to the floor in pain. In terror.

5

The door crashed open, and then Tomas was bending over me. “Indy. Indy, it’s all right. It’s all right. I’m here. I’ve got you.” His big hand cupped my head, lifting it slightly off the floor as the other one ran over my hair. Wait staff and a customer or two crowded in the doorway to see what was going on, though Tomas’s frame mostly blocked me from their view.

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