Stained (9 page)

“Aren’t you special,” she said, in an awed voice.

“Need me,” Raven said.

“What’s your name?”

“No name. Name’s bad.”

“I’ll call you Raven,” Thorn said, as she scratched him behind the eyes. Raven cawed softly again and shut his eyes in appreciation. At that moment the doorbell rang.

“Trouble,” Raven said. Thorn went on alert. She knew he was there for a reason. Mamó must have sent him. He had found her, that’s how it was with familiars. She answered the door.

Thorn looked out at a young man not too much older than herself. He seemed familiar. She opened the door. He fidgeted, looking around. He wouldn’t look her in the eye. He was not much taller than her own, five-foot-seven-inch frame and had her blue black hair. It was long and in a ponytail. His eyes were the deepest blue she had ever seen. Just like the ones that shone out of the pictures she had seen of her mother. He wore a garnet colored velvet jacket in an old fashioned style, with a poet’s shirt. He looked like a bad imitation of Lord Byron. Magick radiated from him. He made her nervous.

“Thorn, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Who are you,” she asked, hesitating on the doorstep.

“I’m your half-brother. Caleb. We share the same mother.” He reached out his hand to shake hers. When their fingers met she felt a shock run between them. She was surprised, but Caleb seemed to expect it. “My father took me away when he found out our mother was a witch,” he said pleasantly, looking at her sideways. Smiling, always smiling.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “Our mother passed away during childbirth.”

“I know. I’m sorry too. I would have liked to have known her.” She should have let him come in but she hesitated, stepping out onto the porch instead. Raven cawed an alert in the background.

“Why haven’t I heard about you?” Thorn asked.

“Our mamó didn’t want me to meet you. She shielded you from me. I take it she has passed as well?” he said, looking askance, smiling, still smiling, as if that fact pleased him. Thorn didn’t appreciate that. Mamó’s death was still very raw. His reaction to her sweet, kind grandmother added to her uneasiness. She took another step back, putting more distance between them.

“I can feel the magick in you. What does your father think of it now?”

“Nothing,” his voice registered no change in inflection. “He’s dead.” He turned his back and leaned against the porch railing watching a rain-laden cloud move over the green hills.

“Muirin wouldn’t teach me when I approached her,” his voice took on a hard edge, even as it became softer. “I went to others to learn the Craft. I had no choice.”

This alarmed Thorn. Mamó was truly generous. Why had she refused to teach Caleb? What had she seen in Caleb for her to protect Thorn from him for so long?

“What do you want from me, Caleb?”

“I want us to be sister and brother.” He turned and looked her in the eye for the first time. “I want us to practice together. With the magick in the two of us we would be unstoppable.” His speech became more rapid and his eyes glinted.

“I don’t think I’m interested in practicing with anyone,” she said slowly. “I’m a solitary practitioner. I planned on a peaceful life here in Kilkeel. Of course, I would want to get to know you more, brother.” Thorn hurried to add the last part. She’d felt his magick rise with his temper.

Caleb shook his head. Smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Little sister, if you won’t join me, then I will have to consider you my enemy.” He put his finger out and charmed a gray wagtail onto it. “I’ll give you one last chance,” he said, as he smoothed the tiny bird’s feathers. “Join me or I will have to destroy you, like I did my father.” He smiled at her, as his magick surrounded the bird and crushed it. Raven cawed loudly.

Thorns eyes went wide and she slammed the door in his face. She was young and inexperienced, not confident she could match his power.

“Wards protect me!” Thorn called. She felt the shift as her grandmother’s ancient spells were called up, reinforced by her own. They surrounded the house in a bubble of protection.

She heard Caleb try the door. He screamed in pain as the wards reverberated through him. He yelled her name in anger. Then taunted her. Thorn packed her bags. She boxed up her grimoires and other occult books and had them ready to send to Uncle so he could forward them when she settled somewhere her brother couldn’t find her. She wrote her uncle a letter explaining everything. After she got away, she would call their neighbor and have her mail everything for her.

Caleb finally left, after promising he would spend his life hunting her. She believed him. She left in the darkness with two suitcases and Raven at her side. Two days later, she and Raven landed in Japan. It took Caleb three years to find her there.

She ran again. Each time he found her, she set off again. To Indonesia, England and the States. She vowed never to get close to anyone for fear Caleb would harm them trying to get to her. She continued to learn and practice her magickal skills and her tattoo art, depending on the culture she was in. Thorn learned enough to shield herself. But he kept finding her. She thought she had finally done it this time. There could be no one else who would target her this way.

She set out herbs to cleanse the room, placing candles in the four directions to mark her circle. She then sprinkled salt around the circle and traced it with her athame, as she asked the Goddess and God to protect her. Once the circle was invoked, she sat inside it resting her hands in her lap. She focused herself and concentrated on Caleb, as she dropped into a deep meditation.

Soon she was getting images of him. Flashes of him in Berkeley, watching Stained, tracking Willow, killing her, watching Richard go into her shop. She saw him following her to the Irish pub when she talked to Azayrid. She flashed on images of him performing the murders. Stalking Azayrid, and kidnapping her. Killing her. Slowly she came out of the trance. Her stomach rolled. She opened her circle and ran for the bathroom, where she emptied her stomach. The room spun. Splashing cold water on her face helped settle her down. She crawled to her bed and rested her head on the cool coverlet, for a minute, until she got her bearings. Raven flew to her and nudged her with his beak.

“I’m okay, Raven. It’s Caleb. It’s all been Caleb.”

“I know, my witchling. I saw what you saw.”

“How could he commit such acts? He had surprised Richard and Willow, but Azayrid had been kidnapped and was so scared. She’d been crying.” Thorn sobbed as she remembered. She wiped at her face.

Once she could stand, she made her way into her kitchen area and fixed some mint and ginger tea before she sat down. She sipped slowly letting the tea soothe her stomach.

Why hadn’t she sensed him? He had followed her, had been watching her. He must be cloaking at an unbelievable level. Now that she knew he was out there she would be more aware of him. She couldn’t get the images of his victims out of her head. He had taken the skin off Azayrid while she was alive. He enjoys his work. The sick bastard. Thorn’s hand went to her stomach, as she tried to keep the nausea from rising again.

One thing she knew for sure. She had to stay away from Sé. Her brother would think it the ultimate coup to kill him and steal his talismans. She didn’t want to let her brother know she had tattooed Sé. A cop with a talisman, it would be like candy for him. A cop, who has a touch of magick in the sight, and who Thorn was becoming attached to.

CHAPTER TWELVE

By the line of my will, as I sit still, protect my body, mind, and soul. Give me control!

Uncle Charles arrived two days later, at three p.m., by taxi since Thorn only had her motorcycle. The wrinkled old man reminded her of a withered apple. He was using a cane now. She could see the trip from Ireland had tired him out, but underneath the wrinkled skin was a mind as sharp as any that could be found. Thorn was thankful he was able to practice in the States. She was also grateful he was her grandmother’s brother. He was a connection to her mamó, which she needed right now.

“Uncle, I’m so happy to see you,” Thorn said, as she gathered him in her arms. He hugged her and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

“I’ve missed you too, little one.” He brushed her hair away from her forehead like her mamó used to do, sending Thorn back to her childhood. “Where’s my old friend Raven?”

“He’s upstairs. Come, let’s get you settled.” Thorn led him through the shop front, where Uncle looked everywhere, curious as a bird, and up to her apartment. Raven cawed softly to him. The bird and Uncle went back quite a few years. Her uncle gently scratched Raven’s neck. Raven shut his eyes enjoying it.

“Well, niece, you’ve got into a mess this time. Tell me the whole story,” he said, as he lowered himself into a chair.

“There have been three murders,” she said, as she started her electric tea kettle. “All three of them were past clients of mine. I gave them special talismans as part of their tattoos.”

Thorn gathered loose Irish black tea and picked up a ceramic teapot while she waited for the water to boil.

“That sounds like more than a coincidence,” Uncle said, holding a hand up to interrupt her.

“Yes, that’s what the police think too. The three were beheaded. Then the talismans were cut out.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Uncle said, watching her as she brewed the tea.

“I’ve discovered that Caleb is here and responsible for it. He’s coming after me, Uncle. I know it. I think he wants to strip me of my powers and then kill me.”

The old man squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He sighed, “This is worse than I thought. I wish Muirin was still with us.”

“I do too,” Thorn whispered.

“I suppose you don’t have an alibi?”

Thorn poured the tea into mugs and handed one to Uncle.

“No, that’s one of the reasons the police are looking at me,” Thorn said, with a wry smile. “That and the murders happened to my customers.” Thorn paused, took a sip of hot tea. “One of the detectives has the sight. His grandmother was a cailleach in the old country. He doesn’t fully trust me yet but he’s the best chance I’ve got.” She rose and began to pace, leaving her cup behind. “But he can only do so much without giving me away, and of course, the police won’t believe in anything to do with witchcraft.”

“Trouble,” Raven cawed.

“Yes, trouble,” Uncle Charles said.

“It gets worse. I tattooed the detective, Sé his name is, with a double protection talisman imbibed with old Irish magick.” Uncle Charles raised his eyebrow. “I think I’ve protected him well, but I’ve also now made him a target,” Thorn said, lowering her eyes.

“Child, I will not lecture you on the danger of that. You already know that Caleb will find out and use it against you.”

“Yes. I’ve already figured that out. I just haven’t told Sé that. I don’t know how much to tell him. I don’t want to endanger him more.” Thorn shook her head.

Uncle’s eyebrow went up again.

“Trouble,” Raven said.

Uncle looked down and smiled.

“I’ll leave that to you. Now, let’s finish our tea and have something to eat. I suppose we need to go to the police station then and make a statement. Do you have anything respectable to eat in this house?” Uncle Charles asked, smiling at her.

“Yes, of course, Uncle,” Thorn said, with the first true smile she’d had in a long while. She got busy in the kitchen frying up steaks and making a salad. Uncle was old school about his food. Lots of red meat would be consumed in her house while he was staying. She cut up a few pieces for Raven and he cawed a thank you to her. While she finished her tea she thought of the many hours she spent in the old family kitchen watching her grandmother doing the same things. Her grandmother made tea for every occasion, to celebrate or commiserate, it didn’t matter, tea would fix it. Her rough stone hearth burned brightly on cold Irish winter days. Thorn would hurry home from school to smell fresh baking bread coming from the oven, and enjoy it slathered with butter and jam, along with tea with mamó. Afterwards, they worked on her lessons in magick. Thorn shook her head, putting away the happy memories that were still too painful.

After their simple meal, Thorn asked her uncle if he wanted to rest before they went to talk to the police. He said he’d rested enough on the plane, so they called a taxi.

They walked through Stained on their way to wait for their ride. Uncle Charles looked over Gwynn and Reese’s shoulders as they worked, commenting on this and that. Thorn was forced to introduce them. She hated mixing her private life with her business persona. Uncle Charles was his usual charming self, and the girls were instantly smitten.

“Reese dear, you can tattoo me anytime. It might take a gallon of ink to travel through the miles of wrinkles though,” Uncle Charles said.

“Anytime Charlie, I’ll put a nice pinup girl on your shoulder for you. The girl who got away,” Reese said.

“Only if she’s a redhead, my heart sings for copper tops,” Uncle Charles replied. Reese, the redhead, and Gwynn laughed. Gérard was polite enough when Thorn introduced Uncle to him.