by Jaci Miller
She headed into the bathroom leaving Tyson looking after her with a furrowed brow and a scowl. “I’ll be out in a minute,” she said over her shoulder as he stood up and lumbered over to her bed, climbing up and stretching out in the middle, giving her another scowl. She smiled and shook her head at what Tyson perceived to be an act of defiance, his way of throwing an enormous temper tantrum without exerting too much energy.
Looking in the mirror, she noticed the dark circles emerging under her bright green eyes. She looked tired, or stressed, she couldn’t decide which, but she hoped a hot shower would help. She had been having difficulty sleeping the past few nights, tossing and turning for unknown reasons. When she did sleep, it wasn’t restful, and it certainly wasn’t helping her appearance.
She turned off the faucet and stepped out of the steaming shower already feeling less gloomy. Reaching for her towel she quickly dried herself and pulled on her robe, grateful that it was still slightly warm from its tumble in the dryer.
She had a meeting with the mayor at ten-thirty and she didn’t want to be late. The city had hired her to be the official photographer for the June 2017 Founder’s Day celebration, marking Brighton Hill’s three hundred and fiftieth birthday. Normally the mayor did not work on a Saturday, but she wanted to meet with her to go over the decisions the Chamber of Commerce and the city board members had finalized last week. The mayor was leaving town on Monday for a two-week family vacation and today was the only time she had open on her schedule.
The job was a large one and was going to require her full attention for about six months prior to the event but came with an almost unlimited budget. The city had planned for this celebration for decades and they were sparing no expense. Although, she often missed her career as a photojournalist, getting this job gave her an opportunity to once again capture a story using images, documenting the history of a town she now called home.
Pulling on a casual outfit of leggings, tall leather boots, and a long sweater, she quickly looked outside at the thermometer before adding a scarf, down vest, and gloves to her ensemble. Calling for Tyson, who had moved from the middle of the bed to the end, she grabbed her laptop case and headed out the door.
He immediately darted after a squirrel that had dared to take up residence on the front lawn. After a few more circles around the base of the tree in a futile attempt to find the squirrel who had scurried up its trunk, he gave up. Trotting to her Wrangler he jumped into the passenger seat and panted out his enthusiasm.
“Proud of yourself?” She asked sarcastically before backing out of the driveway.
A few blocks from City Hall, she turned into a gas station. Pulling up to a free pump, she waited patiently for the attendant to finish with the car in front of her.
“Fill it up?” The attendant asked running his hand through his tousled hair.
“Yes, thank you,” she responded reaching past Tyson for her wallet.
As she waited for the attendant to fill her tank, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning to the right she saw a very striking young woman walking up the sidewalk toward the gas station. She was tall and thin, and her long straight hair was a brilliant fiery red. She was wearing tight black leather pants, leopard print booties, and a chunky black turtleneck sweater. The long black trench coat she wore open, flowed behind her in the wind. Her eyes were covered with oversized black sunglasses and as she walked past the station she slowed, her gloved hand reaching up and pulling them down onto the bridge of her nose. Turning her head slightly she locked her dark eyes on Dane as a small smirk crawled over her crimson lips. She shivered as the woman’s penetrating stare caused a cold chill to crawl down her spine.
“Lady, did you hear me? I said that will be $27.89.”
“Yes, sorry,” she said breaking eye contact with the strange woman and handing the attendant her credit card. She quickly looked back in the direction of the redhead, but she was nowhere to be seen. Thanking the attendant, she put her credit card back in her wallet and took a long deep breath. The sky was beginning to darken menacingly, an indication the forecasted winter storm was approaching.
Starting the Jeep, she drove out of the gas station as an uneasy feeling settled over her.
Chapter 3
Aether, Gabby’s metaphysical store was Dane’s favorite place in the Brighton Hill shopping district. A small, eight hundred square foot space she had named after the ancient classical element, alchemists believed filled the universe above the terrestrial sphere. It catered to those who practiced new-age religions or subscribed to a non-traditional lifestyle. The store’s inventory consisted of incense, oils, magical elements, divination tools, healing stones, tarot cards, books, jewelry, everything a new-ager could want.
Stevie, of course, was her best customer since Dane purchased most of her supplies out of town. The store was only two blocks from City Hall and her meeting had ended early, so she decided to surprise Gabby with lunch.
As she drove, Dane went over the details of her meeting with the mayor. It had gone well, and she loved the direction the planning committee wanted to go, highlighting the dark side of Brighton Hill’s history in their celebration. Like Salem, where her parents lived, Brighton Hill was a town infamous for its history of witchcraft.
The hysteria associated with witchcraft and Satan, which ran rampant throughout Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries had eventually found its way to the New World. The Puritans became the catalyst that flamed the fires of this unreasonable hysteria in America. As organized religion took hold, the furor surrounding God and Satan created an environment ripe for hysteria. Magic was deemed the devils work, a belief, when combined with ignorance and fear and propagated by religious strongholds, developed a foundation where reason and logic were discarded. A heretical frenzy, which resulted in numerous women and men being unjustly accused of practicing witchcraft and killed as punishment.
The Salem Witch Trials were the most infamous, but the fear and ignorance defining that era did not leave Brighton Hill unscathed. Instead, this type of irrationality provoked a singular witch hunt; accused and condemned an entire family and ended the legacy of one of the most influential people in the town—darkening its history forever. John Dunham, whose father founded Brighton Hill in 1667, was put to death—hung in the town square along with his wife, his four sons, their wives, and their six children; the youngest being born only months before.
The hysteria that claimed the lives of the entire Dunham lineage would eventually be traced, by historians, back to John Dunham’s business partner, Samuel Lewin. The entire families’ demise left no living heir, so John Dunham’s considerable assets reverted to his business partner as his next benefactor. Lewin’s greed and jealousy were the catalyst that fueled the town’s hysteria, igniting an already fearful and tense environment. All logic, compassion, and rational thinking were thrown aside and without much in the way of evidence, the town elders took the lives of every living family member, citing their crimes as an allegiance to Satan. John Dunham’s final words, as the noose was laid around his neck—It is not the devil you have to fear but God himself, for your souls will suffer his wrath.
The City was planning on commemorating the Dunham family by formally exonerating them in the City’s Charter and erecting a memorial listing each of the family member’s names. As a witch who was once again in hiding, she appreciated the gesture and tolerance but was unable to shake the feeling that things would not be as amicable if mortals knew there were those born with magic, living among them.
The mayor also wanted to feature the old flour mill in the commemorative promo package. It had been abandoned for decades, but the mill was an integral part of the town’s history. Over the years, the Brighton Hill Chamber of Commerce had talked about renovating the property into upscale apartments, offices, and retail space but had yet to finalize a plan or approve a bud
get for the three-story, 45,000 square foot red brick building.
Built in the 1800s, the mill sat abandoned on the outskirts of the city. It was a historic landmark, but its fading, sagging exterior, coupled with the overgrown landscape had cemented its unfavorable reputation as an unsightly blight on the surrounding area. It was this very image the mayor wanted to market; the forgotten past—the foundation for an exciting vibrant future. She had requested Dane take photos of the mill immediately and have them ready for her approval when she got back from vacation.
It was just before noon when she pulled into the parking lot beside Gabby’s shop. This street was the most popular spot in town and was always busy, especially on a Saturday. The Chamber of Commerce had spent a lot of money five years ago laying cobblestone over the asphalt and changing the street lights to electric versions of centuries-old gas lamps. Many of the stores and restaurants that lined this street were locally owned and operated and boasted an eclectic variety of products and services. As Brighton Hill was a historical tourist destination, the shopping district project had been justified and was very popular and lucrative during the towns multiple tourist seasons.
The sign on the door said, ‘Closed for Lunch’ so she knew there wouldn’t be any customers in the store. Unclipping Tyson’s leash, she pushed open the front door, watching with amusement as he lumbered his way through the display shelves looking for Gabby.
She was standing at the checkout desk and once he knew he had discovered her whereabouts his entire body wriggled with happiness. She turned just as Tyson pushed his thick skull into the side of her leg.
“Well hello Tyson,” she laughed, gently stroking him behind his ear as he pushed his head further into her leg.
Dane walked toward her carrying a white takeout bag, “I brought lunch.”
“Hey Dane, this is a surprise, I was just getting ready to close up for the weekend.” She said, walking over to hug her friend.
“I thought you weren’t closing until three?”
“That was the plan, but with the pending storm business has been slow, so I decided to close at one.”
“Well, my meeting got out early, so I brought lunch from Peleto’s Deli,” she stated, holding up the white paper bag in triumph. “Enough for three.”
“Three?”
She nodded pointing to the front door. “Stevie,” she said, as Gabby once again heard the entry bell ring as her roommate walked into the shop.
Dressed in her normal attire of skinny jeans, motorcycle boots, and a leather bomber jacket Stevie Jacobs embodied casual chic.
“How do you do that?” Gabby questioned, as Stevie waved and headed in their direction.
“Do what?” She asked reaching into the white bag and pulling out takeout containers.
“That!” demanded Gabby pointing in the direction of Stevie. “Knowing things before they happen!”
“I knew she was coming. I talked to her earlier, found out she was already on her way home and told her to stop here for lunch.”
“Well I spoke with her as well, but it doesn’t mean I know the exact second she will walk through the door!” Gabby stammered.
She shrugged and smiled at her exasperated friend, stifling a laugh. Her empath abilities allowed her to feel energy from substantial distances and because she was so familiar with her friend’s individual energies, she always knew when they were near, even if they were not yet in sight.
“I give up!” Gabby said in desperation as Stevie sauntered up.
“What did I miss?” Stevie asked, noticing the frown on Gabby’s face.
“Nothing much,” Gabby responded. “Only Dane doing her weird mind stuff again.”
Stevie looked at Dane a smirk on her face. “Predicting the future again?”
“Not exactly,” she laughed. “Gabby thinks I can, but I’m just a good guesser.”
“Guessing!” Gabby huffed. “Is that what you call it?”
“Intuition,” Stevie interjected, grabbing the white bag from Dane and quickly changing the subject. “What’s for lunch, I’m starving?!”
The three women chatted for a while, catching up on the happenings of the past two weeks since Stevie had been out of town. Reluctantly, Gabby looked at her watch and noted the time; she needed to reopen the shop. She excused herself for a moment, heading to the front door to switch back to the ‘Open’ sign as Stevie and Dane cleaned up the lunch mess.
“Have we heard from Kai?” Gabby asked returning to where they stood.
Dane nodded, “I spoke with her on my drive here. She’s coming in as soon as she finishes up a few things at the marina and makes lunch for her dad. He’s worried about the weather and wants her in town prior to the storm starting.”
“That’s a good idea considering how much Kai loves snow!” Stevie said sarcastically.
Dane smiled, nodding in agreement “I also spoke to Elyse and Marlee this morning, they have their charity committee meeting this afternoon but will be over after.”
“Then let the festivities begin!” Stevie said in triumph laughing as the entry bell rang in response.
When Gabby went to help the customer who just entered, Stevie turned to Dane, a serious look on her face. She knew that look, it was the one Stevie used when she wanted to say something but was unsure if she should.
“What is it?” Dane asked.
Stevie hesitated slightly before answering, “I got a call on the way home, it was Alex.”
“Who?”
“Alex,” Stevie repeated. “The handsome guy you met at my Christmas party, the chef.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh right.”
“He was wondering if you would be interested in going out for dinner, or a drink,” Stevie said quietly knowing the response she was going to get.
“No.”
“But he’s a nice guy and you haven’t dated anyone since you and Mason broke up. It’s been over a year.”
“Thanks for your concern, Stevie, but I am fine single.”
Dane could count the relationships she had engaged in over the years on one hand. None of them had lasted more than a few months except Mason who had stuck around for almost two years. He was an attorney she met through her friend Elyse. He worked long hours, and she barely spent any significant amount of time with him, which was probably the reason he had lasted longer than the others. She liked her alone time and her independence but becoming emotionally intimate with someone was risky, especially because she would never be able to divulge her secret.
Short-term relationships were more her style or no relationship at all. There were many reasons she didn’t excel in the romance department, being a witch just happened to be one of them. Her mother had even tried to set her up with a few warlocks over the years, but those went downhill quicker than her relationships with mortal men.
Everyone had pretty much given up trying to fix her up, except Stevie, which was the oddest part considering she herself didn’t like committing to anyone long-term. She remembered Stevie telling her once, serious relationships stifled her free-spirit and disrupted her chi.
She took a deep breath and gave Stevie a withering look.
Stevie threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine, no Alex.”
She took the garbage bag to the back room as Stevie and Gabby made last-minute additions to their to-do lists. She was just coming back into the main area when the store’s entry bell rang. She hesitated when she saw Kai walk through the door followed by the same red-haired woman she had seen earlier at the gas station.
Retreating into the doorway of the backroom she watched as the woman made her way through the store nodding to Gabby as she circled the perimeter. She never really stopped to look at anything just walked slowly, running her index finger along the shelves like she was checking for dust. The cl
oser she came to where Dane was standing, the more the cold dread creeping over her skin, intensified.
“Dane, are you ok?” Kai was standing in front of her frowning, blocking her line of sight to the strange woman.
“Yes fine, just a bit of a headache,” she replied, smiling at her friend.
“Are you sure? You look a little pale.”
She nodded as she moved past Kai, her eyes searching the small store for the redhead. She saw her at the counter speaking with Gabby, their voices low. The phone rang, and Gabby excused herself to go answer it. She felt intrigued by this mysterious stranger, yet leery that the feeling of dread seeping over her when she was in her presence, was a warning. The longer she continued to stare at the redhead, the more uneasy she felt.
As if she knew she was being watched, the red-haired woman turned around slowly, her dark eyes locking onto Danes, as a faint smile appeared on her crimson lips. Her eyes were hypnotic; dark endless pools drawing Dane toward them. Her empath abilities were trying desperately to connect with this strange woman but there was nothing surrounding her, no emotion whatsoever, just a hollow emptiness.
The redhead continued to stare at Dane, her eyes never blinking, until Gabby hung up the phone and turned her attention back to her. They spoke for a few minutes more and then the redhead quickly left the store without a backward glance.
Gabby came over to where Kai and Dane were standing. “What’s going on?” she asked, noticing Kai was anxiously watching Dane.
“I’m not sure,” Kai answered.
“Who was that?” She asked, still staring at the front door.
