Death's Shroud

by Robbie Cox

  Taking the pendant in her fingers, Tansy turned it over and looked at the back. Rose had it engraved, and the small words caused tears to flow down Tansy’s cheeks again. We fear not the dark, because we are the light. Another tear fell down Tansy’s cheek as she worked the clasp and slipped the necklace around her neck. She would not fear the dark. Or teaching the next generation of witches. The Murky Cauldron would grow again, and Regina Hawthorn would be the first Tansy aided along that path.

  Taking a deep breath, Tansy positioned the pendant against her chest as she glanced down at the black tourmaline stone. “Thank you, Rose,” she whispered. “You always gave the best advice at the perfect time.”

  Thirteen

  “To serve the dead?” Jayden asked, her features scrunched with disbelief. “And just how is she supposed to serve the dead? I mean, they’re dead; what more is there to do?”

  Nazareth glanced over at the youngest Valentine, his thin brows pinched together. “And you’re a witch? Don’t you have something you call the Recapturing Ceremony where you draw into yourselves the power of a member of your coven who has passed on? How can you really ask what more is there to do? Do you not believe in what you practice?”

  Laci watched her sister bristle, shifting in her chair, her lips parted, ready to unleash her charming disposition on the man at their table. Laci didn’t feel like hearing it, however. Placing a hand on her sister’s wrist to halt the outburst that was about to spew, Laci shook her head. If their mother wanted Laci to hear what Nazareth had to say, then she might as well get it over with.

  Turning back to Nazareth, Laci asked, “And just who is this goddess of yours? Hekate? You said she guards the Underworld? Wouldn’t that be Lucifer? Or following the whole goddess and god thread, Hades? What does Hekate have to do with it?”

  Nazareth nodded, spinning his coffee cup in a slow circle on the table. “Hades, Lucifer, Satan, they’re all really the same person, just different forms, depending on the religion trying to understand them. Hekate is the goddess of ghosts and necromancy, on top of other things, and her hounds usually guard the Gates of the Underworld, while she guides the souls there.” He shrugged. “Or to other realms depending on where they’re supposed to wind up. Sometimes, they need help, and sometimes, some of them get out of control, turn evil, and seek to wreck the lives of humans. That’s where necromancers come into play. We can talk to the dead. We can even raise them again for a time to get the answers we need.”

  “And just why would we need answers?” Laci asked, her head tilted to the side as she studied the man across from her.

  He smiled at her, his deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “We always need answers. The problem is, we don’t always know the questions.”

  “You’re expecting my sister to be some sort of guide or something?” Jayden asked. “Helping people move on to the other side? Didn’t you say that was Hekate’s job?”

  Nazareth shook his head. “Your sister is not a bridge, although she could travel to the realms of the dead if she wanted. A bridge allows people to walk back and forth, connecting realms. When your sister travels, she can only take herself. No, she is more like a receiver, listening to the call of the dead, putting down the poltergeists and dybbuks who seek to wreak havoc on the people of Harbor City. The dying don’t cross through Laci, but rather she acts as a barrier, keeping the demons from gaining a foothold.”

  More demons. Laci sighed as she dropped her gaze to the table. More ghosts. More magic. That was it. They wanted her to return to her magic. How else would she be able to do what Nazareth said she had to do?

  Jayden tilted her head a little. “You want my sister to fight ghosts?” She laughed as she turned to Laci, falling backward in her chair. “He wants you to be a Ghostbuster. How cool is that?”

  “I’m not going to be a Ghostbuster or ghost anything,” Laci said, shaking her head. “Or bust anything. I told you, I’m done.”

  Nazareth ran a hand through his shaggy gray hair as he blew out a sigh. “You will not be a Ghostbuster, I assure you. There is more to it than that. There is more to the Underworld than just dead people. Three brothers dwell in the lower parts: Death, Sleep, and Dream. Hekate guards the world from all three.”

  Laci cocked an eyebrow at the man. “Sleep and Dream are people? And they live in the Underworld?” She shook her head. “Now you’re making this shit up.”

  “Laci!” her mother snapped. “You will watch your language in my house. We do not speak to our guests that way.” She then turned to Nazareth, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Although I share my daughter’s confusion. Sleep and Dream are people?”

  Nazareth shrugged. “Demigods, perhaps? I’ve never been able to figure out the whole hierarchy of the Powers That Be or whatever you want to call them. To be honest, I’ve never bothered trying to figure it out. I serve Hekate, that’s about as far as I’ve ever gone in figuring things out. I wouldn’t even know that much if she hadn’t touched me over a hundred years ago.”

  Laci cocked an eyebrow at the man. “You’re over a hundred years old? You can’t be more than fifty or sixty.”

  Nazareth shrugged, his arms outstretched, palms up. “And yet, I am. Part of the curse of what we are, I suppose.” He sighed as he stared down into his coffee. “However, even with the gifts of Hekate, age catches all of us sooner or later.” He glanced back up into Laci’s eyes, and this time, she could tell that something more was going on. “It’s time for someone younger to take the mantle. I can’t defeat Tharon alone.”

  Jayden slapped the table. “Ha! I knew it.” Her laughter bounced off the kitchen walls. “I knew you were here for more than to tell my sister about her supposed gift. You need help.” She turned back to Laci. “They always need help.”

  “I’m not helping,” Laci stressed with a shrug. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already told you. I’m through with magic and battles. There are others who can help you. My sister can introduce you to them.” She moved to push herself back from the table, but Nazareth’s next words froze her in place.

  “Your coven can’t help me protect people from their dreams.”

  Laci paused, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the older man sitting across from her, the memory of her dream two nights ago sending goosebumps up her arms. “People’s dreams?” Was it possible that her nightmare was more than a bad dream? “What do you mean?” Without realizing she did it, Laci sat back down in her chair.

  Nazareth took a long swallow of his coffee, licking his lips when he finished. “Tharon is one of Death’s revenants, and he seems to be on a special mission. He has been killing people in their sleep, using their own dreams against them. I tried to stop him the other night, but failed. I need your help.”

  Laci cocked her head a little. “Tharon. Does he have dark red eyes that kind of flicker like flames? And wear a robe that resembles something a monk would wear? Deep voice, almost like rocks grinding together?”

  Nazareth cocked an eyebrow at her. “How do you know what he looks like?” He leaned forward in his seat, narrow eyes studying Laci. “He’s visited you.” He tilted his head to the other side. “But didn’t attack you. He was studying you. What did he say?”

  It wasn’t a dream. She had actually had that conversation with Tharon while remembering her father. “He said that he felt me. He also said he wasn’t really worried about me. That Hekate wasted her time calling me.”

  “He was taking your measure,” Nazareth said, nodding. “It was probably your desire to leave your coven that weakened you, so Tharon didn’t know the true depth of your power.”

  Laci sighed. “There is no depth to my power. I keep telling you that.”

  Nazareth just grinned at her. “There will be,” he said. He leaned back in his chair, taking his cup in his hand and holding it in front of him. “Look, I know you want out, but Tharon just took that away from you. He will keep coming after you. He won’t be able to help himself.” Nazareth shrugged, lifting the cup to his lips. �
��And people are dying. We need to stop him from killing more.” He watched her as he took a sip of his coffee.

  Laci just stared at him, not sure what else to say. They were forcing her back into the fight, a fight she didn’t ask for and wanted to avoid. She now knew how Rhychard Bartlett felt when the faerie realm drafted him into their battle. There was no way out once they had you in their sights. “I’m not even sure how to fight someone in my dreams,” she said, her shoulders slumped as she felt beaten.

  Nazareth smiled at her. “And that’s why I’m here.”

  Laci wasn’t sure how she felt about any of it, suddenly missing Tansy’s wisdom and advice.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Mark Rochester stared at the body of Josephine Barnes, her body prone on the couch, television still blaring. Animal control had already taken the dog away, the poor thing still shaken up. A neighbor had called, complaining about the dog’s incessant barking, and when the officers arrived to talk to Mrs. Barnes about her out-of-control pet, they found her body instead. Mark still wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but he saw the pattern already emerging.

  “We meet again,” Tricia said as she entered the living room. “What have you got for me this time?”

  He kept his gaze fixed on the old woman’s body. “A repeat performance,” he said with a sigh. “Although this one wasn’t reading a fantasy novel, but rather watching some all-day soap channel.” He glanced over at the television, his lips twisted in disgust. “Do people really enjoy those things?”

  “Daytime soaps?” Tricia asked with a tone that told Mark she thought it a silly question. “Crazy storylines, buff men, ardent passion. What’s there not to love?”

  “Well, the men weren’t buff enough to keep this woman awake,” Mark said, turning to face the dead lady again. “Or to keep her alive. What are the odds that two people died in their sleep like this less than a week apart?”

  “Harbor City’s a big town,” Tricia said. “Add to that the fact that Florida is where most people come to retire, and you’d be surprised how often I see scenes just like this. Trust me, it’s better than dying of cancer or in a car accident.” She set her kit on the ground and knelt beside the corpse, slipping on some blue plastic gloves as she did. “At least she went out watching some hot men. I would love to go out like… All right, this is weird.” She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she picked up Josephine’s arm, squeezing up and down, turning it gingerly one way, then the other. “Her arm is broken.” She leaned forward even more, lightly pressing on the body. “Her whole body seems broken. How is that even possible?” She jerked her attention to Mark. “Was she under something? You lifted something heavy off her body before I got here, right?”

  Mark shook his head. “Nope.” Suddenly, he felt as if he stepped back into the world of faeries and demons. “What caused her bones to become crushed?”

  Tricia glanced over her shoulder at him. “As I say all the time, that’s your job. Mine is to find out what exactly killed her.” She turned her gaze back to the body on the couch. “I’ll know more once I get her on my table. I’ll call you when I have something.” She reached out, her hand hovering over the woman’s head, almost stroking her hair. “What happened to you, doll?”

  Mark didn’t even bother to nod, knowing Tricia had already put him out of her mind to focus on Josephine Barnes. He didn’t blame her. Josephine Barnes deserved to be focused on right now. Running his hand through his dark hair, he took in a deep breath before turning and walking out of the small house. He could write off the first man, Roger Sanders, as natural causes, but there was no way Tricia would be able to come up with that cause of death here. How would a body suddenly cave in on itself? There was nothing natural about that.

  Stepping out of the house, he gazed up into the afternoon sun, hands on his hips. He should talk to Rhychard Bartlett; this was right up his alley. Mark blew out a breath. “God, I miss the days when crimes were committed by simple human scum.”

  “What was that?” a voice asked, jerking Mark’s attention to the right.

  Mark watched as the young Derrick Templeton approached, tucking his notepad into his duty belt. The kid couldn’t be more than twenty-two, his lanky frame barely bulky enough to keep his uniform on straight. “I’m sorry?” Mark asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

  “You said something about wishing crimes were committed by simple human scum,” the kid said. “Who else would commit the crimes? I mean, aren’t they all human scum, even if they have large bank accounts and wear three-piece suits?”

  Mark shrugged as he turned his face toward the house. “You’d be surprised.” He glanced back at the young officer. “Stay here in case Tricia needs help. Let me know if she comes up with anything before she leaves.”

  “Yes, sir,” Derrick said, hooking his thumbs in his belt.

  Mark said nothing else as he left the man standing guard over a crime scene that really didn’t look like a crime scene; at least, not a human one. Opening his car door, Mark paused a moment, glancing back at the house. Harbor City has definitely taken a turn into the crazy. God, I miss the old days.

  Fourteen

  Regina Hawthorn grew impatient to begin. The sound of wind chimes filtered through the back of The Murky Cauldron as Tansy, Wanda, and Regina sat cross-legged on the floor. The Sunday morning downtown traffic was nil as most of the residents of Harbor City were either in church or sleeping in, recovering from their wild Saturday nights. Tansy had invited Regina to come to the store before opening to help her get started down her new path, to teach her some basic exercises that would give Regina a good foundation for what the future would bring. Apparently, the older witch, Wanda, insisted on being there as well, to help Tansy guide the younger woman and to be a support. Regina wasn’t exactly sure what Wanda really did outside of insisting everyone drink hot tea and nibble on cookies she baked herself. The woman seemed to smile more than anyone Regina had ever met.

  “Magic helps us improve ourselves,” Tansy said, her hands cupping her knees as she stared over at Regina. The three women sat in a small circle, a thick, white candle burning in the middle. “To strengthen us and to even help us celebrate ourselves. Think of what you want to become and then seek to attract those things to you, remembering that like attracts like, and the more you become like those things you wish to see in your life, the more things like that you will draw unto yourself.” Tansy rubbed the palms of her hands over her knees. “How about we get started with a sort of cleansing exercise, something to shake off any negative energy that we’ve absorbed, so we can start fresh?”

  Wanda clapped her hands, the sound making Regina give a slight jump, as a grin spread across the older woman’s face. “Oh, I so love a good aura cleansing,” she said, practically bouncing in her spot. “Let’s do it. It’s been too long since I’ve done one myself and with all the…” She stopped talking, and Regina could see the woman visibly swallow what she was about to say. “Well, it’s been too long,” she continued, a pained expression on her face. “We’ll leave it at that.”

  Regina cocked an eyebrow as she stared at Tansy, confusion filling her. “Aura?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure what exactly you’re talking about?”

  “Our bodies are surrounded by a field of colored-energy,” Tansy said. “Depending on what the color is, those who can read auras can tell certain things about a person’s character or mood. Our auras attract energy as we go about our days, and if we come in contact with enough negative energy, it can damper our auras, affecting our moods, our decision making, how we connect with our power. It’s a good habit to perform a cleansing ritual every once in a while to wash away the negativity.” Tansy straightened a little where she sat. “First, we’ll get ourselves centered.”

  Regina sucked in a quiet breath, trying her best to tamp down her impatience, keeping her annoyance in check. “Centered?” She felt her brows bunch over her head. How would she ever get them to teach her how to anchor to this body if the
y were wasting time with these ridiculous rituals? “I was kind of hoping to do some actual magic, you know?”

  Tansy smiled at her, and the sight almost made Regina want to hurl. She should have known when Wanda offered her fresh cookies that these witches would not rush things. “Everything has an order to it. If we don’t build your foundation, then your magic will crumble around you. Centering yourself is something you should do every time you want to perform some type of magic. It’ll keep you from draining your own personal energy.” She gave Regina another reassuring smile. “It won’t take long. Promise.”

  Regina nodded, because she knew they expected it of her. However, it wasn’t what she wanted to do.

  “Good,” Tansy said, patting her knees a couple of times. “Now, close your eyes and take three slow, deep breaths.”

  Regina watched as Tansy and Wanda closed their eyes, their chests rising with the deep breaths they took. Regina inhaled deeply and then closed her eyes, not counting that first inhale as one of the three she was told to take, but using it to calm her irritation. She felt silly.

  “Now,” Tansy began, “picture that in the middle of your body, either your heart or your abdomen, there’s a light, solid and bright.”

  Regina would have rolled her eyes if they were open. Instead, she did as Tansy asked, picturing a white light about the size of her fist in the location of where she thought her heart was. She wasn’t really sure, she realized, having failed at school. You put your left hand over your heart when you say the pledge, but most people said the heart was in the middle of your chest, so that’s where she put it. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be more lessons in anatomy.

  “Then picture your light reaching out, like a small arm stretching from your core, reaching down to the ground, stretching out to the earth’s core. There you will find its energy, you can picture that anyway that helps you, a river, a lake, just a light like you visualized in your core.” Tansy’s voice was soft, calm, almost like a soothing balm over Regina’s frustrated nerves. “See your energy touching the earth’s energy, sucking it up like a straw, bringing it into yourself until it fills you. This will help you rebalance yourself, make sure you’re ready to do the magic work we’re about to do.”