Would-Be Witch (5 page)

Though I didn’t hold out much hope for them working, I had to try something. And Edie and I were connected mystically through the magical line. Now if I could just remember the details of the spells.

When I was little I used to read Momma and Aunt Mel’s spellbooks all the time, thinking I’d be coming into my own big powers one day. When I finally realized I wouldn’t be a real witch, I gave up on the books, favoring cookbooks and brides’ magazines. After I married Zach at eighteen, I’d had other things on my mind. I’d moved on to a normal life and hadn’t looked back. Now it had been five years since I’d looked at a spell.

I found a picture of Momma wearing the locket, so I cut out just the locket, then snipped a strand of my hair and a couple pieces of twine. I set myself up at the kitchen counter with an incense stick, some matches, and a pair of small white envelopes. I stood the stick in a faded “Kiss the Blarney Stone” coffee cup and lit the stick. The smell of pine wafted through the air. I passed the locket picture, my hair, and the twine three times through the smoke to purify them of anyone else’s energy. I concentrated hard on the items as I used the twine to bind the locket photo to the strand of my hair.

“Thanks to the person who brings the locket back to me. Thanks to the person who brings the locket back to me. Thanks to the person who brings the locket back to me at least before October twenty-fourth.”

I put the hair-locket wrap into one of the envelopes and sealed it. The other important thing that I needed to do was to prevent Edie from coming out of the locket while someone else had it. I never saw Momma or Aunt Mel do a spell to bind a spirit, so I didn’t really know what to do. But since it wasn’t likely to work anyway, I decided to keep things as simple as possible.

I took a photo of Edie and passed it through the pine smoke, then rolled it into a small tube. I used a bit more of the purified twine to tie the picture up that way.

“You are happy in the locket, Edie. You stay in the locket. You are at peace in the locket, Edie.”

I put the rolled picture into the other envelope and sealed it. I took the two envelopes into the bedroom and placed them in the bottom drawer of the jewelry box, which Aunt Mel had always kept empty for the products of meaningful actions. I didn’t want anyone to open the envelopes or mess with them before the locket-return spell came true.

I closed the doors of the jewelry box and hugged it. I hoped a little of Momma’s and Aunt Mel’s power was still around to help me.

Afterward, I lay down with a cold pack over my eyes and had just gotten comfortable when the doorbell rang. I waited, hoping whoever it was would leave. The doorbell rang again insistently, and I got up and went to see who it was. I paused when I looked out. Bryn Lyons stood just outside, looking tasty even through the smudged peephole. I opened the door.

He held a large cage that was covered with a swath of deep brown satin. The smell of sandalwood was strong, and the faint reverberation of magic hummed over my skin. I was surprised again that I could sense his magic so well.

“What can I do for you?”

He smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

I thought about great-great-grandma’s list. “I can’t invite you in.”

His smile faded, and he cocked his head. “I wish you’d tell me why you won’t associate with me. Have you had some sort of premonition you’re worried about?”

I just smiled and shrugged.

“How about a short ride? We’ll go to a neutral place like Magnolia Park. I need to talk to you.”

I eyed the cage. “What do you have there? Canary?”

“A gift for you. And before you say no, hear me out. You need it.”

“I’ll meet you in the park in half an hour.”

“You want me to sit around for thirty minutes waiting for you?” he asked skeptically. “Maybe I’ll just forget that I was going to help you and go home.”

“My car is in the shop. It’ll take me a while to walk there.”

“And there’s no way that you’d just get in my car and drive over with me?”

“No, I really can’t, but thank you for the offer,” I said, glancing at his black Mercedes with tinted windows.

“Thirty minutes then.”

When I got to the park, I found him sitting at a picnic table. He looked out of place in his dark designer suit. His shirt probably cost more than the park’s monthly landscaping budget.

The covered cage was sitting in the center of the table and my gaze went to it more than once as I sat down on the bench across from him.

“You’ve been in trouble.”

“I lost my great-great-grandmother’s locket.”

He shook his head. “I’m not talking about that. You were in danger sometime earlier today.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What makes you say that?”

“I felt it. You called out for help.”

“You were a little far away to hear me.”

“I meant psychically.”

“I know what you meant. Nobody could hear my psychic cries. They’re too faint. I’d say it’s more likely you heard I had trouble courtesy of Ma Bell. Zach called all my friends. They probably called all their friends and so on. My guess is that the whole town knows I went missing this afternoon and evening.”

“And the reason I know you were doing magic just before I rang the doorbell?”

I raised my eyebrows. He probably thought that his knowing would give me the willies, but I took a more practical view of things. If Bryn Lyons, a known practitioner, had sensed me working, then maybe my spells might actually do their job. And that made me happier than a bee face-first in nectar.

“I’m not sure what your family told you about Duvall, but it’s a tuning fork for psychic energy. Macon Hill is a tor, a ley center. Ten ley lines, conduits for the earth’s heightened energy, converge at the tor. The lines travel outward for thousands of miles. If I felt you casting spells, so did others. Yours is a raw energy that’s untrained, but someone experienced could exploit it.”

“I don’t have enough power for anyone to bother coming thousands of miles to see me.”

Bryn folded his arms over his chest and stared at me.

“I don’t. I’ve never had it. My momma and Aunt Melanie tried a bunch of times to bring it out of me when I was a teenager.”

“Maybe they weren’t the right people to train you. Maybe your power has different origins from theirs.”

“What have you found out about the robbery? Did you hire anyone to find your Rolex?”

“I can buy another Rolex.”

“But you said that you would get even with the thieves.”

“I don’t have to find them to get even with them. They’ve taken something of mine. I can cast a spell that will reach them wherever they are.”

I shivered. His eyes sparkled in the bit of illumination cast by the street lamp. I’d seen him on and off for years, but I’d never been afraid of him until now.

“Well, it’s been nice chatting with you.” I stood up and he reached over and caught my arm.

“Wait.”

“Look, I can’t get involved with you. If there’s any training to be done, you’re not going to be the one to do it. Now let go of me.”

“You don’t know when or if your mother and aunt are coming back.”

“They
are
coming back!”

“Tamara—”

“Stop calling me that. We’re not such close friends that you get to call me different than everyone else does. It’s Tammy or Tammy Jo, period.”

He let go of my arm. “When you need help, you know where I live.”

Yeah, he lived in Shoreside Oaks, along with most of the wealthiest folks in Duvall. His back acreage looked out onto the Amanos River. He probably even had a view of Cider Falls. Nice land if you could afford it.

Bryn got up and walked toward his car.

“Hey, what about this?” I asked, motioning to the cage.

“He’s yours. If you don’t want to take him home, just open the cage and turn him loose. He and Angus wouldn’t get along.”

“Who’s Angus?”

“My dog,” he said, climbing into his car. He left me sitting in the darkness with the cage. I pulled the satin cover off. A pair of big, dark eyes reflected the lamplight and stared back at me. The cat was tawny and beautiful, spotted like a leopard.

“Hey there.”

He purred.

“I can’t keep you. The gorgeous wizard probably wants to use you to spy on me or something. I’m pretty sure he’s into the dark arts, which my family tries to avoid. The only thing I like really dark is chocolate.” I put my finger in the cage, and he licked it. “It’s not personal against you or anything. I just know he can’t be trusted. After all, he’s a lawyer.”

The cat went on licking my fingers. “I don’t think you’ll starve. Mario’s throws out a lot of seafood each night. You like shrimp fettuccini Alfredo?”

What am I doing talking to a cat?

“I’m going to let you out.” I opened the front of the cage and he sprang out, landing with a thump on my lap and then using his claws to pull himself up onto two paws.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” I said, pulling him off my chest. His claws were like needles.

“Okay, go on. Live long and prosper,” I said, dropping him on the grass.

I got up and turned toward home. I didn’t look back, afraid if he seemed disappointed, I’d suddenly be a cat owner. I hurried down the sidewalk. I wondered if he was following me. I checked left and right, using my peripheral vision. No felines.

I turned my head side to side. Nope. Finally, I looked over my shoulder. Definitely gone. I sighed but told myself I shouldn’t be sad about it. I couldn’t accept a present from Bryn Lyons. Still, I wouldn’t have minded a little company for the walk home, and it’s not like the kitty cat had somewhere else to be.

I took a long bath, ate a few Special Dark miniatures, and settled into bed. I must have fallen asleep quickly, but suddenly I was startled awake. The clock read five forty-five in the morning.

Someone with a small flashlight was in the bedroom. I stayed stone-still, afraid the person would know I was awake. He was dressed in black with a black mask, like all the psycho killers wear. His back was to me as he rifled through the jewelry box.
Great, take my stuff. I don’t need it.

Maybe he was just a burglar. Maybe he’d just leave me alone.

There was a rattling outside and then a wailing sound somewhere in the distance. I felt it as well as heard it. The burglar must have heard it too because he turned out the light. I couldn’t see him, which was scarier.

Oh, God. Go away. Please go away.

I didn’t want him to come near the bed or to figure out that I was awake. My breath came in short pants that I tried to keep quiet. Sweat trickled down my neck. I didn’t have a weapon.
Oh, why did I divorce Zach? So he forgot our anniversary and went out drinking with the boys. So he never took me seriously and sent me to a psychiatrist over Edie. No relationship is perfect, and he had such a big gun.

Chapter 5

The burglar’s soft footfalls moved toward the door.
Yes, you slimy bastard, get the heck out of my house.

As soon as he left the bedroom, I was out of bed. I got on the floor and crawled on my hands and knees to the door. I wanted to get a glimpse of him, but it was too dark. My heart thumped in my chest, my fingers stiff with fear. If I went out of the bedroom and he was lurking, he might get me. I felt for the handle and slammed the door shut. I locked it, stumbled to my feet, and ran to the phone. Footsteps pounded down the stairs.

I yanked the phone off the hook, but there was no dial tone.
No!

My cell phone was downstairs on the counter. I ran to the window and looked down. The burglar tore out the front door but tripped over a small shadow that darted toward him. The man fought with the shadow, then got up and ran, limping on one leg. He disappeared around the corner, and I looked back to see the shadow moving slowly, like it might be hurt.

I ran down and found the cat from the park sitting on the top porch step with his back to the open front door.

“Hey,” I said.

He made some sort of kitty sound of acknowledgment. He looked around for another moment and hissed at the darkness. Then he stood, turned around, and padded into the house. I closed and dead-bolted the door.

There was a small trail of blood on the wood floor. “You’re hurt! Oh, no.”

He looked at me with big eyes and then licked at his right shoulder. I lay down on the floor on my belly near him. I didn’t want to scare him.

“Let me see,” I whispered. I touched his shoulder gently. My fingertip slipped into a small hole. “Ouch,” I said since he couldn’t. “That nasty jerk stabbed you. I’ll take you to the vet. But wait, I don’t have my car.” I tilted my head. “I’ll call Zach. He can drive us, and I’ll make a police report.”

I turned on every downstairs light and the stereo. I found the phone that was off the hook and set it back on its cradle, then lifted it again.

The phone rang five times before I slammed it back down.
Damn him. Never around when I want him.

“I called my ex-husband. He’s out doing heaven knows what, so we’ll go without him. I’ll wake up Jolene next door, and she can drive us,” I said, putting on my shoes.

I walked to the door, but he didn’t move. “Come on.” I waved a hand toward him, but he ignored me and instead hopped up onto a chair and then onto the countertop. He padded over to the sink, made an unpleasant sound and then hopped into the sink basin.

“You want a bath? Cats don’t like water.”

I looked at the blood on the floor. Cleaning the wound was a sound idea. Good thinking for a kitty.

I went to the sink and turned on the water. He wailed loudly enough to wake the dead in two counties. It was the same sound that I’d heard earlier, the one that had interrupted the burglar at work.

I washed him with some orange Palmolive antibacterial dishwashing liquid. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t hop out of the sink until I was finished rinsing him. He shook vigorously, spraying me and the counter with water. Then he sat down and licked himself. His paws were huge. I’d thought he was full grown, but from the look of things, he wasn’t nearly done.