by Terri Reid
“I can do this,” he whispered, but there was doubt in his eyes. He took a deep breath. “I have to do this. There is no other way.”
Donovan.
The snake-like voice sent a shudder through his body. The voice surrounded him, yet he knew it could not be heard by others.
“Yes, Master,” he replied, trying not to let his revulsion temper his words.
“There is a new entity in town,” the Master said. “Find it and destroy it.”
“But we don’t even know who or what it is,” he replied. “It could be helpful…”
“Are you questioning me?”
Donovan gasped in pain as another long, jagged cut appeared on his stomach. “No,” he breathed. “No, I’m not.”
“The last Willoughby bitch needs a mate,” the Master snarled. “Anyone who could be a partner to her is an enemy. Destroy him.”
“What?” Donovan exclaimed, taken by surprise.
The Master snickered with satisfaction. “That’s right, you are attracted to the bitch, aren’t you?”
“That was a long time ago,” Donovan replied, cursing himself for reacting. “She means nothing to me. She is just an obstacle for us to overcome.”
“Good,” the Master praised. “And for that, I will let you share some of her blood as she dies. It will be very sweet and will give you even more power.”
“Drink her blood?” Donovan asked, confused. “Why would you…”
The evil laughter echoed in his mind. “Fool,” the Master taunted. “Blood is the wine of life. Blood is the transporter of power. Blood is the essence of magic.”
Donovan shook his head. “You sound like a vampire,” he said, trying with all he had to make the tone light and slightly mocking.
The laughter increased to a near hysterical chant. “Do you not understand that all folktales have a seed of truth buried within them?” he asked. “I am not the undead; I was never born of human flesh, which is why I crave it. Why I long to feast upon it, the sweet blood of those witches will be ambrosia on my lips.”
Suddenly Donovan could see in his mind’s eye the desires of the Master. He saw the bodies of the Willoughbys laid out on an altar, a sacrifice to evil. He watched in horror as a dark shadow passed over Cat, he heard her screams and then he felt the coppery taste of her blood in his mouth.
He looked up and stared into the mirror, watching a droplet of blood slide from his mouth down his chin. He clapped his hand over his mouth and ran to the waste basket, emptying the contents of his stomach into the receptacle. He heaved into it, over and over again, until he collapsed onto the floor next to his desk.
“Don’t worry my boy,” the Master whispered into his mind. “It’s an acquired taste. And once you acquire it, you will thirst for it for the rest of your life.”
Chapter Nine
Hazel sipped on a tall glass of iced herbal tea and sighed with relief. “Four hours,” she said triumphantly to her mother sitting on the deck next to her.
Her mother looked up from her tablet and turned to her daughter. “Four hours of what, dear?” she asked.
“Four hours without throwing up,” Hazel replied, lifting her glass in the air in a mock toast. “Rowan is a genius. I think she cured my morning sickness.”
Agnes looked down at her tablet and then up at Hazel and shook her head. “No, she didn’t,” she said.
Confused, Hazel shook her head. “What? Yes, she did.”
“No, she didn’t,” Agnes said. “It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. You couldn’t have morning sickness now if you wanted. You would have afternoon sickness.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “Oh, you are such a comedienne, mom,” she began, then her eyes widened, and a look of shock came into her eyes. “Did you say it was four o’clock?”
She placed her cup down and sprang out of her chair.
“Yes, dear. Why?” Agnes asked.
“Because Joseph will be here any moment,” Hazel exclaimed, she cupped her hand over her mouth and blew into it. Then she screwed up her face. “And my breath smells like throw-up!”
Agnes bit back a smile and nodded in what she hoped was a solicitous way. “Take some of the mint leaves growing in the pot in the kitchen,” she suggested. “That will get rid of bad breath.”
“And put green stuff in my teeth,” Hazel countered, hurrying towards the door. “No, I’m just going to run upstairs and brush my teeth ten times and then gargle afterwards.”
“Good plan,” Agnes said. “And I’ll just keep Joseph company in the meantime.”
Hazel froze and turned to her mother. “You’re not going to show him any old photos albums, are you?”
Agnes openly grinned this time. “Time’s a wasting, dear,” she said.
Grumbling, Hazel hurried through the doorway and rushed toward the staircase.
“What’s the problem?” Cat asked, walking in from the living room.
Hazel turned and stopped in her tracks once again. Cat looked amazing. Her curly hair was loose and flowing over her shoulders. She was dressed in a copper-colored, form-fitting dress that made her caramel-colored skin glow. Her gold necklace and earrings glimmered with warmth, and her matching copper-colored heels added three inches to her already tall frame.
“You look amazing,” Hazel said. “Where are you going?”
Cat shrugged. “Just out,” she said.
Hazel studied her sister for a long moment. “Wait, you’re dressed like that, and you think you are going out by yourself?” she said, shaking her head. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Remember, you’re the little sister,” Cat said. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Hazel replied. “With all that’s going on, you’re stupid to think any of us would let you go somewhere alone.” Then her jaw dropped. “You weren’t going to let us know. You were going to sneak out!”
Ticked off at being caught, Cat shook her head. “I’m thirty years old,” she replied. “I don’t have to ask anyone’s permission to go out.”
The kitchen door opened behind them and closed with a snap. “Oh, I’m afraid you do,” Agnes said firmly.
“Mom,” Cat said. “I’m going out. And that’s it.”
“Fine,” Hazel said. “I’m going with you.”
Cat shook her head. “You can’t,” she argued. “You spend the entire day puking your guts out.”
“I’m cured,” Hazel countered and then she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she was dressed in a short red dress and heels.
“Hey, where is…” Joseph asked as he let himself in the kitchen door, but once he saw Hazel, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow, you look amazing!”
She grinned at him. “Thanks,” she replied. “We thought we’d go out tonight.”
“Works for me,” he said, coming up to her. He bent his head down to kiss her, and she slipped her hand over her mouth.
“Hold that thought,” she mumbled behind her hand. “And give me another minute.”
She closed her eyes again, this time concentrating on a spell that would freshen her breath. When she ran her tongue over her teeth and tasted the minty freshness, she dropped her hand from in front of her mouth, wrapped her arm around his neck, and kissed him with gusto.
When the kiss ended, Joseph leaned back and smiled at her. “Well, that was certainly worth waiting for,” he said, his voice deep with desire. “Want to go another round?
Hazel sighed regretfully and shook her head. “I can’t because we’re fighting.”
“What?” Joseph asked, confused. “Why are we fighting?”
“No, we’re not fighting,” she explained, pointing back and forth between the two of them. “We’re fighting.” And she pointed to Cat.
Joseph turned and looked over at Cat. “Wow, Cat, you look great,” he said. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” Cat replied.
“Nowhere,” Agnes said at the same time.
“With us
,” Hazel said.
Joseph looked from one woman to the other. “So, this is one of those instances where I should just step back and not say anything, right?” he asked.
“Cat thinks that she’s going to go out tonight all by herself,” Hazel said to him.
Joseph turned to Hazel and then back to Cat, and suddenly, he was wearing his cop face. “You’re a smart woman, Cat,” he said, his voice firm. “You’ve seen what’s happened in the past few months to the other members of your family. What in the hell are you thinking?”
Cat sighed, placed one hand on her hip, and stared back at him. “The grimoire said that each of us needs a partner for the rest of the spell to be revealed,” she said angrily. “Unless you can conjure a man out of thin air, I need to find someone. He needs to be of the blood, he needs to be brave, and he needs to love me. We’re running out of time. So, I have to go out.”
Joseph thought back to the man he’d met on the street that afternoon. He was certainly of the blood, he looked like someone women would be attracted to, and he took him on, so he had to be brave. Joseph shrugged. Or stupid.
“I think I’ve got someone for you,” he said.
“What?” Cat asked, astonished. “Where…”
“I can’t answer any questions right now,” Joseph said. “But I’m meeting with him later tonight. I’ll set up a meeting, so you can get to know him and see what you think.”
“Do you trust him?” Cat asked.
“Yeah, but I want to check him out a little more before I let you meet him,” he said. “Is that okay with you?”
Sighing, Cat kicked off her heels and nodded. “That’s great with me,” she said. “I hate going out. Almost as much as I hate wearing high heels.”
Joseph nodded. “But you looked great,” he said, then he turned to Hazel. “Does that mean you’re going to change too?” He eyed the short, tight red dress hopefully.
She stepped up and put her hands against his chest. “I suddenly feel like going dancing,” she said softly, placing a kiss on his lips. “And there’s this quiet little place I know about.”
“Sounds perfect,” he replied. “Do I know it?”
She grinned. “Oh, yes, you are very well acquainted with it.”
She turned to her mom. “We’ll be in the barn if anyone needs us,” she said and then she led Joseph out of the room.
Cat sighed. “They are so perfect together,” she said enviously.
Agnes turned to Cat. “You’ll find someone you can give your heart to,” she said, giving Cat a quick hug and then going back out to the deck.
Cat watched her mother walk away and nodded, brushing away an errant tear. “The problem is getting it back from the one who already has it,” she whispered to herself.
Chapter Ten
Joseph pulled up in front of his apartment at 10:20 and wasn’t surprised to see Finias leaning up against his black Suburban that was parked across the street. Joseph got out of his car, looked across the street at Finias, turned, and walked over to his apartment. Finias met his eyes for a brief second, nodded negligibly, pushed himself away from his SUV, and casually crossed the street.
Joseph waited for Finias inside the front lobby of the apartment building. Once he heard the door close behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Okay, the gang’s all here,” Joseph said, opening the inner door and leading him up the stairs.
He unlocked his apartment door and invited Finias inside. “You’re not like a vampire, right?” Joseph asked as Finias walked past him. “Where you have to be invited in?”
Finias smiled and looked back over his shoulder to Joseph. “It’s a little late to ask me that question now, isn’t it?”
Joseph shrugged. “I watched Van Helsing,” he replied. “Werewolf versus vampire. Werewolf wins, hands down.”
Finias laughed, a rich, full-bodied sound. “I have seen that movie too,” he replied. “And I agree, hands down. Good thing I am not a vampire.”
Joseph closed the door and locked it, then turned to Finias. “So, what are you?” he asked.
“I’m a witch,” Finias replied. “Actually, I’m an Obeah-man, my bloodline traces back for centuries.”
“I thought I heard a little of the islands in your speech,” Joseph said. “Where are you from?”
“Jamaica is my home,” Finias replied.
“Jamaica and Obeah?” Joseph repeated. “Isn’t that practice illegal now?”
“As was witchcraft in your country in its early days,” Finias explained. “Those who do not understand, often fear. And fear leads to a desire to control.”
Joseph thought about the Willoughby witches and smiled. “Yeah, good luck with that,” he said.
He motioned for Finias to take a seat at the table and then walked over to the refrigerator in the tiny kitchen. “Get you something to drink?” he asked.
“Water would be good,” Finias replied.
Joseph grabbed two bottles of water, brought them over to the table, handed one to Finias, and then sat down across from him. “So, laws against witches are created by people who fear their power.”
“Exactly,” Finias agreed. “Rather than try to understand, they forbid. Which only made us go underground and use our abilities in secret. But we are still a strong and powerful force in defending our country.”
“How about defending our world?” Joseph asked.
“I have heard about the legend here,” Finias said. “And I have felt a shift in the power around us. The dark is becoming stronger.”
“What have you heard about the legend?”
“Your country has a sad history of trying to destroy the things it fears, rather than trying to understand them,” he said. “The witches who went underground during the Salem Trials ended up moving west to this area of Wisconsin more than one hundred years ago.”
Joseph took a sip of his water and nodded.
“At the same time, an institute of spiritualism also came to the area,” Finias continued, then he paused and shook his head. “Do you not find it a great coincidence that all of these events occurred at the same time.”
Joseph put his bottle down and shook his head. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said.
Finias sat back in his chair and studied Joseph for a moment. “So, you feel this was pre-destined to happen?” he asked.
“No, I believe that often we allow ourselves to be influenced by what we assume are noble motives,” he said. “But later, we discover that we have been played like puppets on a string.”
“The Willoughby Witches were puppets?” Finias asked, one eyebrow lifting in doubt.
Joseph shook his head. “If they were anything like the Willoughby women today, they were too smart to be played,” he said. “No, their part in this was that they got to clean up the mess.”
Finias lifted his bottle in a toast. “And history once again repeats itself,” he said.
Joseph lifted his bottle and drank. “Okay, I’m beginning to like you,” he said. “Why are you here?”
Finias shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “I was summoned.”
“By who?” Joseph asked. “The mosquito?”
Finias stared in confusion. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Embarrassed, Joseph rolled his eyes. “I apologize,” he said. “We have a code name for the entity because saying the title it named itself only gives it more power.”
“So, you have called it a blood-sucking, annoying pest,” Finias said, nodding with approval. “How very appropriate.”
“Back to my question,” Joseph said. “Who summoned you?”
“The forces for good,” Finias replied. “Whatever you wish to call them. But the forces for good realize that we are at a place in the history of the world where evil could actually displace good. We cannot allow that to happen, because once it does, the world will be destroyed.”
“What?” Joseph asked. “What do you mean?”
“The world, Mother Ear
th, this globe we live on,” Finias explained. “It has a soul, just like every one of us. And her soul is pure. Her soul is uplifting. Her soul is noble. If the forces of evil become too strong, her soul will shatter. We will witness the destruction of the earth, as was foretold by prophets in the past. When there is too much evil in this world, the spirit of the earth is wounded and reacts.”
“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,” Joseph replied.
“Ah, but vengeance is not revenge,” Finias explained. “Vengeance is the consequence of not obeying the laws of truth. When we allow evil to flourish, we must accept the consequences for those actions.”
Joseph sat silently for a few long moments, sipping his water and studying the man seated across from him. The guy was real. All of his years as a cop told him, this guy was genuine and was on their side. His mind made up, Joseph put his water bottle down and sat back in his chair. “Okay, I have one more question for you,” he said.
Finias nodded. “Go on.”
“Are you single?”
Chapter Eleven
“I beg your pardon?” Finias asked, his blue eyes wide with surprise. “What in the world does that have to do with what we’re discussing?”
Joseph remained relaxed in his chair and shrugged. “You gonna answer?”
Finias huffed impatiently. “Yes, I am single,” he said. He leaned forward on the table and met Joseph’s eyes angrily. “Not that it is any of your business, but there has only ever been one woman in my life. We both knew that we couldn’t be together for long, so we cherished the time we had. Are you satisfied?”
Joseph nodded. “Yeah, I am,” he said easily. “So, do you date?”
“Didn’t you just hear me?” Finias exclaimed. “What the hell is this about?”
Joseph sat forward in his chair, his easy-going manner gone. “Let’s say there’s a special book,” he said. “A grimoire that was written by the sisters who cast the initial spell.”
“That would be a vital piece of information,” Finias said.
“This grimoire is only allowing the Willoughbys to read a portion until certain conditions are met,” Joseph continued.
