Carolina Witch

by January Daphne

  Lola didn’t seem to notice. “How are you settling into Martha’s cabin? I heard she left you everything.”

  I blinked, not sure how much I should share with this woman. “I’m still getting everything straightened out,” I said, vaguely. “Which reminds me, do you have the wifi password?”

  Lola, looking a bit disappointed that I didn’t divulge any details, gave me the password and hurried off to the next table.

  As soon as I hooked up my phone to wifi, nine messages came through—all from my mom. They started out with “Call me when you get a chance,” and quickly escalated to “Don’t you dare step foot on Wolf Mountain!”.

  I called her back using the wifi, and she answered on the first ring.

  “Natalie, oh thank goodness. Where are you?”

  “At a place called Lola’s Bakery.”

  “You’re already there?” She spoke quickly. “Natalie, listen to me. Get out of there right now. You’re not safe there.”

  I glanced around at the other people chattering away over pastries and sandwiches. Though I noticed I was getting quite a few stares, no one seemed particularly threatening.

  “I’m just eating breakfast. I think I’m fine, but we have to talk. Who was Martha Wilder?” I glanced around to make sure Lola wasn’t close enough to listen in. I lowered my voice. “People are saying she was a witch, and they’re saying I am, too. Did you know about this?”

  The phone line went quiet for a beat.

  “Mom?”

  Finally, she spoke, “Mattie’s my younger sister. She’s two years younger.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  “Because it was safer for you not to know.” She paused. “Why are you talking about Mattie in the past tense?”

  I realized no one had told my mom the news. “She passed away,” I said, as gently as I could. “The sheriff called me last night.”

  Silence again. “How?”

  “The sheriff said an animal attack, but her neighbor thinks someone killed her. And the weirdest thing happened to me last night. It’s going to sound crazy.”

  “I’m sure it will,” my mom said flatly.

  “I think I saw Martha last night—as a ghost.”

  “No,” my mom said. “Oh, no, Natalie. Please tell me you didn’t go into the basement.”

  “You know about the basement?”

  “I grew up in the cabin. I spent the first eighteen years of my life on that god forsaken mountain.”

  “It got really weird in that basement,” I said. “Martha was chanting something to me.” Then I gave her a summary of the talking dog, the floating book, and the cryptic quest about finding Martha’s killer.

  When I finished, I could hear my mom breathing heavy on the other end of the phone.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m too late.”

  “Too late for what?” I asked.

  Another pause. “Too late to stop you from becoming a witch.” She spoke in a shaky tone. “I had wanted to protect you. I knew… I just knew something like this would happen to Mattie. Even if you’re as strong and as smart as Mattie, a witch’s life is full of danger. You come from a long line of witches, men and women. I hid that from you, and from your father. I gave up my magic a long time ago and I’ve never looked back.”

  “You’re a witch?” I asked.

  “I was. My sister, Mattie, and I were raised performing spells. Magic took my parents from me, your grandparents. It’s a dangerous business, Natalie, and when my parents died, I left Wolf Mountain and put that whole life behind me. I didn’t want it for myself, and. I didn’t want it for you.”

  “Let me get this straight—you were an actual witch? Like you could do magic and spells and you had powers?”

  “I was, but I had Mattie strip my powers after that tragedy. I wanted you to live a normal life—far away from all of that. I’d hoped Mattie would have a family of her own and pass her powers to her children, but I guess that never happened,” she said. “So now that cursed Wilder power has fallen onto you.”

  I was feeling a lot of things—anger, shock, hurt. But most of all, I felt betrayed. All my life I’d worked so hard to figure out who I was and my purpose. I did all the things a person did to be successful—good grades, good job, good boyfriend. But now my mom was saying that I was born to be a witch. “Do I have powers?”

  “If you went into the basement, and touched the Wilder grimoire, you’ve received the family power. When the previous generation of witches passes away, the power must be passed to the next generation. A witch also has the option of giving their powers to another member of the family if they don’t want that lifestyle. That’s what I did with Mattie. She wanted it, I didn’t. She had my powers as well as all the powers of the witches who came before us. And now all of that has been passed to you.”

  Lola dropped off my plate of pancakes, and Benjamin leaned across the table. His moist black nose twitched as he breathed in the aroma.

  I held my hand up to block him from nosing around my plate. “Do you know anything about familiars? Apparently, I have one now, and he’s this huge, awful devil dog.”

  “Benjamin?” my mom asked.

  “Yes! You know him?”

  “I haven’t seen him in years, but yes. He was Mattie’s familiar.”

  “You should have told me,” I said.

  “Why? So you can end up like your grandparents? Like your aunt? No, Natalie. I refuse to let that be your life. I want you to have a family, and grow old, and have a long, happy life. When you’re a witch, other things can sense your power—evil things. Werewolves, ghosts, vampires, other witches—your power attracts that. You’re not ready to take that on. You don’t know how to use your powers.”

  “What choice do I have? Apparently, I’m the next one to get these powers. They’re not just going to go away now?”

  My mom sighed. “No, they won’t, but you can give them to me. I’ve been trained in magic. I can live with this curse. Better me than you.”

  “No,” I said. If these powers were as dangerous as my mom was implying, I couldn’t bear to put her in that position. She hadn’t wanted the magic in the first place. That was why she’d given it away. At the same time, Martha had made sure to give her magic to me, and to trust me with solving the mystery of her death. I didn’t understand much of this, and I certainly didn’t intend on staying in this weird little town forever, but something inside of me told me to see this through. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not going to get swept up in all of this, but I need to figure out who did this to Martha. She asked me to do it, and she said I was the only one who could.”

  “Please don’t do this, Natalie. Please. I’m begging you. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I said, and in that moment, I decided I wouldn’t mention the whole wrecking-my-car thing.

  “No! Being careful isn’t good enough—not at Wolf Mountain. I didn’t keep you away from that place, only to have you go back and get yourself killed.”

  “It’s not your choice to make anymore. I’m sorry. I’m an adult now, and Martha Wilder wanted me to be here. At the very least, I’m going to make sure the lodge gets sold to a good owner and that she has a proper funeral. She deserves that, and apparently, she knew not to ask you. I’m staying to see this through. End of discussion.”

  She was quiet again. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” she said bitterly.

  We said our good byes, and I got off the phone. Then I made my other calls—one to a local mechanic, the other to Martha’s lawyer. Both of those calls went a lot better than the one with my mom.

  I made it through about half of my pancakes, then slid my plate over to Benjamin who happily scarfed the rest of them down.

  The mechanic told me he’d tow my car down the mountain that day and would give me an estimate on the damage. I hoped it wasn’t totaled, but I doubted it would ever look as good as it had before I’d so stupidly backed it into Blake’
s truck.

  But, I wouldn’t sulk about it. There were worse things in the world than totaled cars—like being murdered. That really did put things in perspective for me.

  Martha’s lawyer had seemed enthusiastic about being able to find a buyer for the lodge quickly. In fact, she’d already had an inquiry from someone—Frank Honeycutt, the current lodge manager.

  I hung up the phone, feeling accomplished. With a few more minutes before Blake was due back, I settled into my seat and sipped my coffee. On the other side of the bakery, I saw Lola talking to another customer. She wore a huge smile on her face, and she seemed to giggle at everything this man said.

  The man was blond, tanned, and muscular. He had GQ model written all over him.

  Judging by the way Lola gently rested her hand on his shoulder when she talked to him made me think those two were an item—or wanted to be.

  After Lola walked away, the man happened to catch me staring. I immediately diverted my gaze, but it was too late. He was already getting up and walking over.

  Benjamin seemed to stiffen the man approached.

  “Just wanted to come over and give my condolences,” the man said, white teeth glinting as he smiled ruefully.

  I was startled to hear he spoke with the distinct clip of a British accent. “Thank you,” I said politely.

  “Martha Wilder was an institution around here. She didn’t deserve what happened to her—an animal attack, I heard.” He shook his head, the sunlight setting off the golden hues in his hair.

  A cheerful jingle caught my attention as Blake pushed open the bakery door. His expression hardened when he saw the man standing by the table. Blake was beside me in an instant. “Now’s not a good time, Liam,” Blake said.

  The blond man, who Blake had called Liam, shrugged Blake off. “Relax. We’re just talking.”

  Blake’s nostrils flared. “And I’m telling you it’s not a good time.”

  Liam snorted and glanced around. Lowering his voice, he said, “Are you serious right now?”

  “You and I both know it wasn’t an animal attack,” Blake said in an even tone.

  “What are you implying, mate?”

  “Nothing that everyone else around here isn’t already thinking.”

  Liam straightened up, rolling his shoulder’s back. “You have got to be kidding me. She was my friend, too, you know. I would never hurt her.”

  “I’d like to think that’s true, but you can’t always help it,” Blake said quietly. “It’s happened before.”

  Liam narrowed his eyes. “Screw you.”

  Lola stepped in between the two men with a sugary sweet smile that didn’t match the no-nonsense look in her eyes. “Ya’ll all right over here?”

  “We’re fine.” Liam ran a hand through his hair, looking at Blake with an expression of confusion and hurt. “Sorry to bother you, Natalie.”

  I smiled. “No bother at all.” pulled a few bills out of my wallet, setting them on the table as Liam walked back to his seat. “What was that all about?” I asked Blake as we made our way back to his truck.

  “Liam’s a good guy,” Blake said. “He really is, but I’m not convinced he had nothing to do with your aunt’s death.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Blake held out his hand to help me into the truck. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  Blake shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’s a werewolf, and he’s killed before. Not on purpose. In fact, he does everything he can to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone, but sometimes that’s not enough. I don’t think it’s him, but I don’t know that I wasn’t him.”

  “He’s a werewolf,” I repeated. “Like, he turns in to a wolf during the full moon?”

  “Full moon, and whenever he loses control.” Blake climbed into driver seat.

  I scooted over, so I was right up against Benjamin. “He doesn’t look like a werewolf.”

  Blake pulled back onto the road. “And you don’t look like a witch.”

  “Touché,” I said.

  “Are you serious about finding out who killed Martha Wilder?” He asked, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then we need more information,” he said. “If you’re up for it, we’ve got to get Angie to talk. On Wolf Mountain, everyone knows that an animal attack is what people say when they’re trying to cover something up. I think her death was supernatural, but I can’t prove it,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.”

  Chapter 8

  Blake pulled off the road in front of the police station and parked. Immediately, the two dogs from last night sprinted out from under the porch, barking and growling like they’d never seen a human before.

  “Not them again,” I moaned. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt a jolt of energy flying up my arms. Instantly, the barking stopped.

  I blinked. What had just happened? I scooted up further in the seat to get a look at the dogs, and saw they had frozen mid-stride. There was no way those dogs could have balanced in those poses for more than an instant. One of the dogs appeared to be leaping without any feet on the ground. He was suspended in the air.

  “Impressive. Your powers are getting stronger,” Benjamin commented.

  “I did this?”

  “Well, it wasn’t me,” he said. “And it couldn’t have been Blake because you froze him, too.”

  I turned to Blake, and saw he was as still as a paused movie. He had the keys halfway out of the ignition, and the other hand was on the door handle. I waved my hand in front of his face. He didn’t even flinch.

  I thought of Grant getting stuck in the revolving door. My anger at him must have caused the door to freeze. Now that Martha had transferred her powers to me, I was able to freeze everything in my immediate vicinity.

  I touched his wrist. “Blake? Blake, wake up.” Panic set in. “Benjamin, How do I undo this?”

  “The same way you undo any spell,” he said. “Whatever you did to cast the spell, do the opposite.” With that, he lazily hopped out the passenger side window, and sauntered over to the dogs. He gave them both a sniff.

  “Ok, seriously not helpful,” I said. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Clearly, you did,” he called back. “And you better get used to reversing spells because you haven’t even scratched the surface yet.”

  Next time, I’ll try freezing Benjamin’s mouth, I silently vowed. “Why aren’t you frozen?” I called.

  “Because I’m magical. Freezing spells don’t work on other supernatural beings. That would make your job too easy.”

  “My job as a publicist?”

  “Your job as the protector of innocent souls against the forces of evil.”

  “Did you really just say that with a serious face?”

  “You’re the one asking for advice from your dog.” He trotted around to the side of the building.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Nature calls,” he said.

  I sighed and turned back to Blake. “I hereby unfreeze you,” I said, holding up my hands in what I felt was a powerful gesture. In reality, it probably looked like jazz hands. I scooted closer to Blake.

  He really was a handsome man with those dark eyes full of warmth and humor, and that square jaw lined with a day’s stubble.

  I wondered if, perhaps, this spell could be undone with a kiss. It worked in the fairy tales.

  But I could just kiss a frozen man? What if he didn’t want to be kissed? It was total violation.

  Anyway, Benjamin had said I had to do the opposite what what I’d done to cast the spell.

  “First, I saw the dogs,” I said, talking myself through it. “Then I wished the dogs would stop bothering me.”

  Benjamin trotted back over to the truck. “Exactly. You made a wish, and a wish is a form of magic. So freezing these dogs was the way the universe granted your wish. Get it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “So
try making another wish and imagining them unfreezing.” He leapt up the porch steps and sat down near the police station door. “You might want to join me up here before you do that though.”

  “What about Blake?” I asked. “Won’t he be confused when one minute we’re sitting in the truck with him, and the next second we’re standing over there?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s had a lot of experience with magic.”

  “From Martha?”

  “From Martha and others,” Benjamin said. “He’s relatively open-minded. For a human,” Benjamin added, making human sound like a curse word.

  “Ok, I’ll give this a try.” I carefully opened the truck door and slid out. I crept across the driveway, afraid to do anything to disturb the dogs.

  “You don’t have to be quiet. You’re not going to unfreeze them by walking around them. Your power is mental. You have to set the intention to undo your magic,” Benjamin said.

  “Yes, Yoda. I get it. Use the force, right?” I held up my hands again, preparing myself.

  “Actually,” he said, “there are a lot of magical concepts in those movies that are very close to what witchcraft is.”

  “What an incredibly nerdy thing to say,” I said.

  “That coming from the woman making jazz hands,” Benjamin said. “What part of ‘witchcraft is mental’ do you not understand?”

  “The hands help me concentrate. Now shut up for a second,” I said clenching my teeth. Then I closed my eyes and whispered, “I wish to reverse this spell.”

  Immediately, the barking started up accompanied by the sound of gravel scattering. I opened my eyes to see the dogs racing over to the truck.

  “Wow, that was easy. See? Jazz hands worked,” I said.

  “Indeed,” Benjamin said.

  “You’re just jealous because you don’t have hands.”

  “Got me there,” Benjamin said dryly.

  Blake got out and greeted the dogs with a laugh and a friendly pet. The dogs followed him to the porch bouncing alongside him.

  Blake shook his head and grinned. “You just froze me, didn’t you?”

  “Ummmmmm… yes,” I admitted. “But it was an accident.”