Seeing Is Believing by Lindsay McKenna

sorcerer’s gourd and the wrong person picks it up, it could be fatal.”
    His eyes grew round.
    “You don’t believe me, do you?” Bitterly, Diana rose.
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “You didn’t have to. It shows in your eyes, Wes.” Frustrated, she whispered, “That rattle is dangerous! I don’t want you picking it up! Do you understand?”
    “If it’s that dangerous, what is it doing here? Besides, it might have fingerprints on it that can give us a lead.”
    “I don’t know. And it may or may not have fingerprints on it.”
    “Did Horner buy it? Was it placed here and she picked it up? What if she did pick up a gourd of that power? What would it do to her?”
    Confused, Diana shook her head and opened her hands. “Wes, I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did. The feeling around that rattle is evil, that’s all I can tell you.”
    “I find it odd the police didn’t find it,” he muttered, rising to his full height and going over to the closet to stare at the red gourd. “Of course, knowing they’re local cops, I’m not surprised. One of them probably opened the closet doors and looked in but didn’t turn on the light. You’d never see that gourd unless the light was on.”
    Rubbing her brow, Diana felt a terrible sense of dread. “I’m going to have to hold it, whether I want to or not.”
    Wes glanced at her sharply.
    “You just told me it was dangerous.”
    “It is—to you.” And maybe to her, but Diana didn’t say that. She saw the aggravation, the question and disbelief in Wes’s eyes. A part of her was angry, because she knew what she sensed wasn’t wrong. Diana couldn’t give Wes the full answers he was seeking. Watching him place his hands defiantly on his hips, as if to dispute her right to touch the gourd, she said testily, “I’m in a position to know how to protect myself before I touch it.”
    “And I’m not?” Wes didn’t quite not believe Diana about the gourd. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d felt unsettled ever since they’d opened the closet to reveal the damn thing. There was no explanation for his feelings, but his gut was clenching, and that was all the red-flag warning he needed.
    “No, you don’t,” she flung back heatedly, moving forward. Before he could step into her path to stop her, she stretched upward and grabbed the rattle. She couldn’t risk his death, or his insanity, if he touched a sorcerer’s gourd without proper training or protection. But did she have enough protection? Diana wasn’t sure, but she said a swift prayer to the Great Spirit and wrapped her fingers around the object before Wes could stop her.
    Wes cried out her name, but it was too late. He watched as Diana picked up the gourd. Almost instantly, he saw her go ashen. When she staggered backward, as if her hands had melted onto the rattle, he reached out for her.
    “NO!” Diana gasped. “Don’t touch me!” Oh, no! She was off balance. The power of the gourd was overwhelming. Shocking. She felt a violent, burning heat sting the palm of her hand and race up her arm. Breathing violently, she gasped again and again. The gourd was trying to shut off her ability to breathe! Invisible strands wound around her throat, and she gagged. Somehow, she had to get rid of the thing, but it clung to her like glue.
    Falling to her knees, Diana rasped harshly. Her throat was closing. Her breath was failing. No! She didn’t want to die this way! She heard Wes shout her name. Grayness replaced her vision, and she knew she was dying. At the last moment, as the heat raced for her throat, she called upon all her reserve strength. With a cry, she flung the gourd away from her. She felt herself falling, falling, in a downward spiral, a deadly whirlpool of energy. Shutting her eyes tightly, she became locked in an inner battle on an invisible dimension with the red gourd. It was a spider gourd, the most dangerous of all rattles a sorcerer could make.
    Choking, her hands gripping her throat,