Carolina Witch

by January Daphne

  “This is weird,” the other Natalie said. Her blue eyes darted frantically around the room. “Everything looks kind of bluish, and I can’t feel anything.”

  “And there’s, like, two of us,” I added.

  “Yes, that’s pretty hard to get used to.” She stumbled back, partially disappearing into the rock mantle by the fire. Noticing what was happening, she leaned forward again. Her shoulders heaved as she fought to catch her breath. “Did you see that? I literally just went into that wall.”

  “Ok, don’t freak out,” I said, holding up my hands. “You’re the astral me. You’re supposed to be able to go through wall. That’s normal.” I turned to Benjamin, “That’s normal, right?”

  “Yes,” Benjamin said. “However, I didn’t expect the spell to create two Natalie’s. Usually when you astral project, one of you sits there comatose.”

  Astral Natalie shrugged. “I guess now we know what the spell meant when it said, ‘split in two’.”

  “Two Natalie's,” Benjamin said, amused. “Because one just isn’t enough.”

  I looked down to see an almost invisible sliver thread coming out of my chest, glinting in the firelight. I tried to touch it but my physical fingers glided right through it. “This the thread we’ll need to reconnect.”

  “I think so.” Astral Natalie looked around the room. “How do I get out? Is there like a portal or something to the astral plane?”

  “You’re already in the astral plane,” Benjamin said. “You have to create your own portal. Think about where you want to go. Be intentional about it. Otherwise your subconscious will take over and you’ll be transported to whatever place you want to go in the deepest corners of your heart.”

  Astral Natalie smirked. “Ominous.”

  “I’m not joking around. Seriously, think about where you want to go before…” Benjamin didn’t finish speaking because before this last were out, Astral Natalie had started to fade

  And then she was gone. The sliver thread disappeared into the wall behind where Astral Natalie had been standing. It bobbed and bounced with light tension.

  I reached for Benjamin, petting him, needing comfort. “She’s kind of sassy, isn’t she?” I commented.

  “You have no idea,” Benjamin said.

  “I hope she’s ok,” I said. “Or, I’m ok. What if something happens to her?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Benjamin said.

  I nodded, and the two of us stared into the fire. “Is this what it feel like to be you?”

  “Pretty much.” He rested his head in my lap. “Now we wait, and hope that your astral self can pull this off.”

  The room swirled around me like I was on a high-speed merry-go-round.

  “Benjamin!” I called, wildly reaching my arms out, desperate for something to grip onto. I felt like a sputtering balloon that someone had let the air out of instead of tying up. I wondered if this was what astronauts experienced in outer space. I had nothing to hold, and nothing to push off of. Darkness surrounded me.

  So I stopped fighting and relaxed my muscles. Wherever I ended up, I’d just reroute from there.

  After a few terrifying moments, I began to sense that I was slowing down. A new room came into focus. I blinked a few times as I took in my new surroundings. I was in someone’s home—someone’s bedroom to be more specific.

  And my horror, I knew this someone.

  Blake sat up in a king-sized bed, resting against a couple pillows. His face was lit by his laptop screen, and he typed furiously. The rain drummed a steady rhythm on the roof of his cabin, and underneath I heard the quiet, clicking of his keyboard.

  I couldn’t help but notice he was shirtless—and it suited him.

  This had gone terribly, terribly wrong. What was I in Blake’s bedroom? Is this where my subconscious wanted to go?

  What was wrong with me? If I didn’t astral project myself out of here right now, it was about to get embarrassing—especially because I wasn’t sure if Blake was wearing anything under those sheets.

  I closed my eyes, willing my self to float away to anywhere by here. My subconscious was making me into a total peeping tom.

  Lightning flashed, filling the room with blinding light for a split second, and Blake’s eyes flicked up from the screen.

  Had he seen me? I shuffled away from his bed, surprised by quietness of my movements. My clothing didn’t make that swishing sound, my feet didn’t cause any floor boards to creak.

  My heart, however, was pounding against my rib cage like a prisoner rattle the bars of his cell. I prayed the rain would drown out the sound of my beating heart.

  Blake slid the computer off his lap. “Dean?” he squinted. “That you?”

  Who was Dean? I wondered. Did he have a roommate I didn’t know about? A lover?

  His eyes seemed to be adjusting to the dark room because he was looking right at me.

  I held my breath and took another step toward the door.

  “Stop right there,” Blake said, his voice commanding. With grace and speed, he slid off his bed and snatched a Louisville slugger from under his nightstand. “Who are you?”

  I swallowed. I knew he wouldn’t be able to hurt me. That bat would go right through me. I really didn’t want to have to reveal who I was.

  I took another step back.

  “Who are you?” He demanded. Blake’s eyes were hard and cold, his navy iris contrasting with the bright white of his eyes. “You have three seconds before I take your head off.”

  Lightning flashed, and I winced.

  “Natalie,” His words were barely a whisper.

  Blake blinked rapidly, as if trying to make sense of what he saw, his chest rose as fell as he released the breath he’d been holding. He dropped the bat, and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, turning away from me.

  “Natalie, what are you doing here?” He clicked on the lamp on the nightstand. “You’re in bedroom. It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Don’t be mad at me. Please.” I held up my hand in surrender. “I did this astral projection spell, and then there were two of me, and then ended up here, and I have no idea how.” The words tumbled out of me, like a runaway ball of yarn. “I’m sorry.” In the light, I could see he was not naked, thankfully. However, he had on blue boxer briefs that did not leave much to the imagination. “I’m so, so, so sorry,” I said, realizing too late that I was staring.

  Blake ran a hand through his messy hair and let out awkward laugh. “You’re astral projecting?”

  “Yes.” I bit my lip.

  “You decided to astral project yourself into my bedroom.” His eyebrows knitted together as he faces took on a mixture of confusion and amusement.

  “No, no, no.” I shook my head. “Let me be crystal clear, I didn’t decide anything. The universe just dropped me off here.”

  Blake pressed his lips together, and I sensed he was trying very heard to hold in a laugh. “Hold on, I’m going put on pants for this.”

  “Good idea.” I cringed at the unnatural high pitch of my voice. Could I be anymore awkward right now? I touched the silver thread on my chest, and absently looped it around my finger. It vibrated in my hand like a current of electricity. “Maybe I’ll should just use the door, and get back to my body that way.” I watched as Blake went to his dresser, grabbed a pair of sweat pants and tugged them up over the toned curve of his behind.

  I pretended to be very interested in the lamp on his nightstand before he could turn around and catch me checking him out.

  “Ok.” Blake planted his hands on his hips. “Maybe I can help. Were you astral projecting with a visualization or with a spell?”

  I cleared my throat, making sure my eyes stayed on his face, and on the lines of muscles that traveled all the way down his torso. I briefly wondered if Liam and Blake went to the gym together, and if so, very much wanted a membership.

  “It was called ‘A Spell to Split in Two’,” I said.

  “Oh,” Blake’s eyebrows rose as his
mouth formed the syllable. “That’s interesting, very interesting.” His lips curved as he nodded thoughtfully. “And that brought you to my bedroom.”

  I shrugged. “Yes, what’s your point?”

  “I know that spell.” He sat down on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. “Here, sit down.” He patted the space on the bed beside him.

  I hesitated. “I’m not sure I can.”

  He smiled. “You can, it just won’t feel like anything.”

  I half walked, half floated to the bed and lowered myself on to the puffy tan comforter. I used my hands for support, surprised that this time they didn’t fall right through. I half-expected to feel the creak of the mattress under my weight, but nothing on the bed moved as I sat. Gently, I lifted my hands up and placed them in my lap. “How am I not falling through the bed?”

  “Because you’re not really sitting on it, you’re floating on it, just like how you’re floating on the second floor of my cabin. You can control if you want to go up or down, or anywhere really—you just have to want to go there. In your heart.”

  “Ok,” I said slowly, not totally following.

  “Since you’re sitting, that means that you wanted to sit on this bed, and you wanted to be in this room,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t trying to go here, I promise.”

  “Consciously, you weren’t,” Blake said. “Martha taught me a lot about astral projection for a screenplay I was writing. It’s fascinating stuff. A lot of people think it’s mental, but what I learned from Martha is that astral projection, and magic in general, is all about what you feel in your heart. I know how that spell goes. It takes you to place your subconscious needs you to be, ‘where your heart beats true’—those are the words, right?”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, fidgeting with my hands.

  “Yes, you do,” he said, quietly.

  Warmth flooded my body as my eyes met his. He looked so vulnerable as he held my gaze. “I glad your heart brought you here.” He spread open his palm and held it out. “Take my hand.”

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “Yes, you can. Put your hand on top of mine. Trust me, this my favorite part of astral projection.”

  “You’ve done this before?”

  He nodded. “Research.”

  “What’s going to happen?” I asked.

  “Think of it as another way to get the truth out of someone. When you’re astral projecting, you lose some of your physical senses—your taste, touch, and smell. But you gain something to. If you touch someone in the physical world while you’re astral projecting, you get a glimpse into their heart. You feel what they feel.”

  “You want me to see into your heart?” I said, breathlessly.

  He nodded. “I want you to trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” I said.

  “You trust me as a friend and a neighbor.” He his hand shook now, just slightly as he held it out. “I want you to trust me as man.”

  “Ok.” I lifted my hand, bringing it to hover over his, palm down. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded.

  I brought my hand down until the bottom sliver of my hand disputed into his.

  He inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away. “What do feel?” He asked.

  I closed my eyes, emotion rising in the back of my throat. “You think I’m beautiful.”

  He laughed softly. “Well, obviously.”

  “You want to stay, even though your scared that what happened to Martha could happen to me.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes.”

  “You feel guilty for not being able to protect Martha.” I paused. “It’s not you fault, Blake. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” he said, his voice rough.

  “No, you don’t,” I said, allowing the astral touch to draw out his feelings. “Blake, it’s not your fault.”

  “I’m going to let that happened to you,” he whispered.

  I nodded, because I could feel that me meant it. “And something else.”

  His hand trembled.

  “You want to kiss me,” I said.

  “Natalie,” His dark eyes on me, silently questioning. “Is that what you want?”

  I smiled, experiencing all kinds of desire, some though the astral touch, and some from my own body, and I didn’t know what was his and what was mine anymore. Outside, a storm raged, but in Blake’s bedroom, everything was so quiet.

  “Blake,” I swallowed, feeling shy all of the sudden. “Can’t you tell?”

  He leaned in and I tipped my chin up, parting my lips to welcome his.

  But then something strange happened. Blake began to fade away, along with the tan blackest on his bed, the cozy little room, and the patter of rain on the roof. I heard my own voice ringing in my ears as it said, “I arrive right where I need to be.”

  The dark void opened up around me, and I was falling again.

  Chapter 18

  For a moment, I was completely blinded by blue light, and then it faded. I found myself standing in front of Liam’s mobile home.

  I was still on the astral plane. I knew that because everything still had that etherial blue tint. Rain poured all around me, but I couldn’t feel it on my skin. It didn’t even appear to soak into my clothing. I looked down at my bare feet, and kicked at the soggy leaves in Liam’s front yard. I expected to pick up my feet and see them covered in mud and dead leaves. Instead, they appeared perfectly clean.

  Movement near the porch of Liam’s trailer drew my gaze. A dark figure waded through the puddles, tugging their coat around, their face hidden by a hood.

  The person opened the flimsy screen door of the mobile hold and knocked on the door. They waited a moment, glancing over their shoulder.

  I stepped further into the shadows, hoping to stay hidden from this stranger’s view.

  The figure turned back to the door, knocking louder this time. A moment later the door swung open.

  Liam stood in the doorway, yellow light steamed out onto the dark lawn.

  That’s when I saw it—the glint of silver poking out he the visitor’s coat sleeve. A silver knife—one of the few weapons that could kill a werewolf.

  “He’s got a knife! Shut the door, Liam!” I waved my arms furiously, yelling as loud as I could.

  Liam managed to move just as the visitor brought he knife down. The silver buried itself in Liam’s beefy shoulder. He threw his head back, howling in pain.

  “Get away from him!” I screamed.

  The stranger didn’t even turned to look at me, all attention was on Liam.

  Liam’s eyes went wide as he stared down at he knife, as if he didn’t believe what he saw. A red stain blossomed on his t-shirt. Then he sprung into action. Veins bulged in his neck as he wrapped his hands around the knife handle, muscles straining as he desperately pulled.

  “Eyes that see into death’s door…

  The figure voice boomed as he stepped forward. The voice was distinctly male, but had an odd quality to it. It also sounded two-toned.

  Liam tried to kick the door, but the visitor shoved his foot in the door just in time.

  I saw Liam jerk the knife out of his shoulder, stumble back and drop to his knees. The silver caught the light as it tumbled to the floor.

  I remembered Benjamin telling me that it would would cause anyone who heard it to become incapacitated, but I was on the astral plane. I couldn’t hurt me, but it would kill Liam he happened to be looking into this man’s eyes. I ran across the lawn, heading for the door that swung aimlessly on its hinges.

  “…I send thee passage, breathe no more.”

  A current of green light flew out from the man and pooled around the crumpled mess that was Liam.

  In the light of Liam’s home, I saw the figure wore a long raincoat over his black hooded sweatshirt. His back was to me, and I moved around to get a look at his face.

  The man seemed to anticipate my movements because leapt into the op
en door of Liam’s bedroom before I got a look at his face.

  I knelt hopelessly beside him as he writhed on the floor. Sweat poured off of him an his eyes were squeezed shut. My first instinct was to find something to spot the bleeding, but I couldn’t touch anything while I was on the astral plane.

  “I can’t do much, Liam. I’m astral projecting,” I said.

  Liam held his hand out to me. “Go after him,” L

  With on last glance as the bedroom door, I made a split second decision to stay with Liam. “I can’t pull the knife out, Liam. I’m astral projecting.”

  “That’s… unfortunate.” He coughed, his eyes glazing over.

  “Were you looking into his eyes when he cursed you?”

  “No.” Liam’s voice was faint. “And the silver’s out of my body.” He swallowed as his yes fluttered shut. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Who was it, Liam?” I asked. “Who was the man?”

  But Liam had already lost consciousness.

  I remembered what Blake had showed me about seeing what was in someone’s heart. Without hesitation, I plugged my hand into Liam’s body where they disappeared like a magic trick.

  “Why did this to you?” I whispered, closing my eyes to focus.

  But Liam wasn’t thinking abut the man’s identity—or at least, that wasn’t what was in Liam’s heart. Instead, I was assaulted with a slew of images, feelings, and scenes that played in my mind like a movie.

  I saw Lloyd kissing Lola with this eyes closed so tightly and his fingers touching her cheek with such tenderness. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear. Then another scene floated to the surface—Lola in a fluffy white robe, sitting on Liam’s couch. Her pink lips hung open as she laughed uncontrollably as Liam amused he by attempting to flip a pancake in a skillet. It plopped on the floor with a juicy splat.

  More feelings came after that, but they felt too intimate for me to see. I drew my hands out, and stood up.

  I was feeling weak. It was probably time for me to follow the silver thread back to my body, but I had to do something first.