A Wishing Moon (Moon Magick)

by Sable Hunter

  Arabella freshened and prepped all four guestrooms after she had talked to Nanette. She would put Angelique in the pale yellow bedroom she preferred and Nanette in the room that overlooked the creek. Her grandmother preferred a room with a window that faced the west; she had always hated the morning rays of the sun to intrude upon her morning slumber. The idea had often crossed Arabella’s mind that her grandmother might be part vampire since she kept so much more of a night owl schedule than the rest of the family, and absolutely abhorred the bright rays of the sun. Nanette always said it was due to her eyes being weak, but Arabella liked to kid her about the possibility, anyway.

  One of Nanette’s great, great grandmothers had come to New Orleans from France as one of the infamous ’casket girls’, young women brought across the sea as prospective brides for well-to-do Creole gentlemen. This had been in the early 1700’s. The term ’casket girls’ had come from the oblong cases filled with their trousseaus that had been furnished the girls by either the French government or their families, if they had been able. For the most part the young women had been from orphanages, as had Nanette’s ancestor, Genevieve. The greatest gift Genevieve brought with her had been ancient, magical knowledge, which had been passed down to her from those who had walked the path of the moon and had lit bright bonfires in the name of the Great Mother, the queen of heaven. After Genevieve’s assimilation into the unique melting pot of South Louisiana, she allowed her European pagan ways to meld with what she learned from her house slaves who had been both Haitian black and American Cherokee. Genevieve had been one of the first to practice the magical mix that resulted from uniting three diverse cultures into one mystical gumbo now called hoodoo.

  Arabella waited until she knew her mother was probably up before giving her a ring. She wanted to call and tell her Nanette, and the others were on their way and she would be welcome to head on north if she chose to do so. After only two rings, her mother answered.

  “Hello darling, how did you sleep?” Her mother’s voice, literally, purred the provocative question. Obviously, Arabella didn’t have to wonder if Elizabeth had picked up on her daughter’s x-rated dreams.

  “Mother…” Arabella pronounced the personal pronoun with mostly mock warning. “Please…” She felt like a fourteen year old again.

  “I’m not judging, dear.” Elizabeth laughed. “Actually, I’m jealous. I wish my nights were filled with such amorous adventure. Who is he, by the way? I don’t know him, or do I?”

  “Mother, he isn’t…I mean…there isn’t, oh shoot. I don’t know what I mean. I’ll explain it to you the best I can when you get here.”

  “Actually, I’m almost out the door. Mother and the rest are on their way aren’t they?”

  “Can’t hide anything from you, can we?”

  “Never could.” There was a pause. Arabella assumed she was checking her watch. “I’ll be there in about five hours.”

  “Take care,” Arabella murmured. “See you soon.” She blew out a long breath. All of a sudden, her life seemed quite complicated.

  Chapter Three

  Jade could hear the gentle buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights as he lay perfectly still. After all, he couldn’t move a muscle. He wasn’t getting any better and evidently, he never would. Even though Dr. Reynolds and the others were not convinced he heard or understood, they had gently told him he was a tetraplegic. Jade knew about being a paraplegic or a quadriplegic, but apparently, tetraplegia was a whole different ball game. His life had become a burden—a horror—and he didn’t even have the personal power or ability to bring his nightmare to an end.

  A nurse had come in and read a legal document to him. She was probably required to do so just in case he could comprehend. It seemed they were transferring him to a long-term care facility called Tranquility Place. The sappy name alone made him wish he could gag—he knew there would be no tranquility for him. Every moment he lived constituted sheer hell; machines were keeping him alive and his caretakers were not even thoughtful enough to turn on a TV at the slim chance he would be aware of the picture or noise. So he looked at the ceiling; he wasn’t even propped up enough to see around his own room. With no close family of his own, and a fiancé who had been cold enough to have left her engagement ring lying on his chest, Jade only had Reese to check on him and even his visits were getting fewer and farther apart. It seemed the doctors were right. The mercurial rise of the charismatic Jade Landale, former darling of the Austin political scene, had come to a screeching halt. In fact, he could see nothing in his future except loneliness and the never-ending hopelessness of being frozen in place like an abandoned action figure.

  Nurse Edding said he would be transferred to Tranquility Place in the morning. Sleep had become his greatest comfort; he would have slept all the time if he had a choice. In his dreams last night, Jade had met the dark haired beauty once again. The excitement and pleasure he had felt with her had put to shame the pallid, one-sided sex he had experienced with Kate. Kate had just lain there like a limp doll, seemingly unaffected by any feelings whatsoever. He had been captivated by her cool beauty and she had wanted to ride his coattails to the governor’s mansion and—in her mind—possibly, the White House. She enjoyed the envy of the other members of the country club set for her conquest of the rich, eligible bachelor who appeared to have such a bright future. Now he guessed he was still rich, but it would be a far stretch to call him eligible, and he would certainly never be governor of Texas.

  For ninety-nine percent of the time, Jade was alone, and the solitude made him crazy. But when he could sleep, he had the most incredible dreams. With pleasure, he pictured her in his mind’s eye. His midnight angel had been tall, but not nearly as tall as his six-foot plus frame. Her skin looked creamy and golden, her hair a silky black waterfall, which hung straight to her hips. Gentle brown eyes shone like stars, and she had a body that just wouldn’t quit. All in all, she was the sweetest, most luscious package he had ever held in his arms. Jade was a breast man, and her breasts were full, round and incredibly sensitive. He could still remember how it felt to hold her—that delicate waist, those rounded, sexy hips, and those incredible long legs that wrapped around him perfectly. God, how he longed to be with her again.

  Never before in his life had he dreamed what seemed to be a continued scenario—same person, same place and same incredible circumstances. What if he couldn’t get back to her? What if he never dreamed of her again? He would go stark raving mad—maybe he already was. Last night, he’d actually pled with the woman in his dreams to find him, to come to him. Incredible as the situation seemed, on some level the woman had become real to him, more real to him than this hospital bed or the tubes that were keeping the breath flowing to his lungs. When they touched, he could feel her skin, warm and smooth. When they kissed, he could taste her breath, sweet and hot. He prayed one night he could find a way to stay in her world and be the man she dreamed about—one that stood strong on two good legs and held her close with two strong arms. He closed his eyes and willed himself to be at her side.

  * * * *

  Arabella knew Rachel would call again and she did. How could she blame her? She would do the exact same thing—grasp at any and every straw she could find. Before leaving, Arabella checked the time. Just after ten in the morning, there was plenty of time for her to go the Townsend place before Evangeline and the others arrived.

  Arabella climbed into her Jag convertible and drove the slight distance separating their homes. Only one neighbor lived between them and Arabella avoided Lyle Sessions like the plague. He had nothing to do with Arabella and she had nothing to do with him. She refused to have any outside cats because if they just happened to wander onto his property, he would kill them. Although he would never admit the heinous act to her face, he’d bragged to another neighbor how he shot her Siamese cat, Carter. Not ever wanting to risk their lives again, Arabella kept her animals indoors and carted a sandbox back and forth every day. She could have walked to Rachel’s hous
e in a matter of minutes, but having to cross the old bricklayer’s property was just not something she could bring herself to do. He had warned her family not to cross Sessions’ land—it was forbidden to them. Mr. Sessions professed to be a born-again Christian. But Arabella seriously doubted even God would have anything to do with such a piece of human refuse. If this were colonial times, Mr. Sessions would have been ready to burn or stone Arabella in a heartbeat.

  Several cars, including a police cruiser, sat in the driveway of the Townsend home. Arabella would rather not have an audience for what she needed to do. She had tried to tell Rachel it would be wise to wait until her Mother and grandmother arrived. Having Nanette and Arabella on this case would magnify whatever power Arabella had. Rachel wanted someone to do something right then and Arabella did not have the heart to say no, so she went on over to see what she could do.

  When she exited her vehicle, she saw Rachel sitting on her patio with two men. She didn’t recognize either of them, but the younger guy wore a uniform and the other, a ruggedly handsome man, wore a trench coat. A twinge of knowledge or insight crept into her mind and she knew the older man to be a homicide detective. As she approached the group, she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. The homicide detective was speaking. “I understand, Mrs. Townsend, but there is absolutely no evidence anything has happened to your daughter and granddaughter. We have put out an alert, and sent out pictures to all area stations. We have calls going out checking all hospitals and, uh, morgues to see if there is anyone out there who might have seen your family. But, at the moment, that’s all we can do.”

  Rachel lowered her face into her hands and wept. Arabella moved up closer and just stood there waiting for an opportune moment to offer her services. Rachel would probably want to get rid of these men before letting Arabella walk the scene. She was quite sure Rachel would not want it advertised that she’d engaged the help of a witch.

  She had worn her large quartz-crystal necklace and her black onyx ring, items designed to increase her psychic awareness. As she waited, she rubbed the crystal, charging it to do her bidding. To her surprise, Rachel announced her in a way she had not anticipated.

  “Oh, Arabella. Thank God, you’re here. Officer Myers, Detective Garrison this is my neighbor, Arabella Landry. She has a gift and I have seen her use it, effectively. I’ve asked her to come over and see if she can tell us anything more than we already know.”

  Rachel actually got up and embraced Arabella. She was taken aback, amazed at how a person could change when faced with a devastating loss.

  “Are you a psychic?” Officer Myers asked with an audible sneer in his voice.

  “No, not exactly.” Arabella would not willingly explain her lifestyle to someone who dripped disdain with every word. Rachel had the good grace to look remorseful. After all, she had judged Arabella harshly in the past.

  “Well, I don’t see…” Myers began to speak but Detective Garrison held up a hand and stopped him. Garrison was obviously Myer’s superior.

  “Let’s leave these ladies to visit. Rachel, I‘ll get back with you just as soon as I have anything to tell you. Stay by the phone, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if you didn’t receive a call from your daughter just any time.”

  A sob tore through Rachel’s throat and Arabella knew Rachel prayed the detective was right. They watched the men get into their separate cars and leave. Rachel then took Arabella by the arm and led her into the house. It had been years since Arabella had been in the Townsend home, but as she entered, memories came flooding back. They were memories of more innocent times when the future had been anything they chose to make it. Arabella felt good about her life, and if she could help Kathy she would.

  “Walk around, Arabella, and see if you sense anything.” Rachel watched her with hope-hungry eyes.

  Arabella did as she was asked. She walked through the kitchen, running her hands over the granite countertops. A child’s small cereal bowl sat on the counter and Arabella picked it up and held the little dish gently. She laid it down and walked over to the kitchen window, which looked out into the back yard that bordered the woods between their homes. As she gazed out the window, her vision blurred, as if for a moment she could see through eyes other than her own. She reached up and grasped the crystal, bringing the amulet to the center of her forehead. The colors in her mind muted and she could hear a voice, an angry voice screaming. ’You whoring bitch!’ Arabella jumped as if someone had hit her.

  She turned to look at Rachel. “Someone came into the house; Kathy let a man into the house.”

  “Who?” Rachel demanded, anxiously.

  “I can’t see him, but Kathy opened the door, letting a man enter your home.” Arabella walked out the back door and onto the lawn. How she wished the yard was topsoil and not carefully manicured grass so thick and green it could have been deep, luxurious carpet. There was no way any footprints could be detected here. As she moved about the grounds, she began to sense something else. Arabella could feel Kathy, the panic and fear coursing through her body. But more than that, she could feel the fierce protectiveness the young mother felt for her child. “I can’t give you details, yet, but they did come outside.”

  “So, do you sense they were forced to leave with this man?”

  “That’s what I’m getting, Rachel.” Arabella wanted to tell the grieving woman more, but she wasn’t confident in her ability to interpret everything her mind could see. “In a matter of hours my family will be here and I am positive that, together, we can help you. I promise I will bring them over just as soon as they arrive.”

  “All right. I don’t guess I have much choice. The police, they think Kathy and Lea have left with someone, voluntarily. You, on the other hand, see Kathy allowing a man to come into my home and then you see them leaving. You also feel the man became violent, that he attacked my girls. Why can’t the police find any evidence of this? Why won’t they go and look for Kathy and Lea?”

  “Maybe they don’t have any substantial leads. I hate to keep repeating myself, but when mother and grandmother get here, they’ll be able to tell you more than I have. Please believe me, they will help.”

  * * * *

  Arabella left the distraught woman and returned to Wildflower Way. She wasn’t surprised to see her grandmother’s car already sitting in the driveway. The doors had not been locked, so she knew she would find them already making themselves at home. Despite the serious circumstances, Arabella couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of seeing them. She literally ran up the walk and bounded up the steps. “I’m home! Where are you guys?”

  “In here!” Evangeline answered. The two cousins hugged with glee and Nanette and Angelique were there to embrace Arabella as soon as Evangeline turned her loose.

  “I am so glad you are here. Mother is on her way. I talked to her a few hours ago.”

  “Let me look at you.” Nanette took her hand and twirled her around. “You look beautiful, cher.”

  Nanette saw an Arabella the mirror did not reveal, always telling her she was an angel. She never thought of herself as beautiful. Slightly taller than Evangeline, Arabella stood five-eight. Her hair was full, straight and hung to her hips, its color almost black with hints of burnished copper. Eyes, a shade of brown reminiscent of European dark chocolate, were framed by lashes, thick and long. High cheekbones and a graceful mouth were set in an aquiline face granted to her by her French ancestry.

  “Who is he?” Nanette asked out of the blue.

  “What?” Arabella was incredulous. How fortunate she wasn’t actually trying to keep her sleep-time mystery a secret.

  “You look loved,” Angelique said quietly.

  Evangeline’s eyes held a million questions, and Arabella couldn’t wait to get her alone so she could answer them.

  “I saw love in the cauldron last night,” Nanette announced as she headed back to the comfortable chair by the fireplace. “I didn’t know if it would be you or your mother. Her energy is still
highly associated with this place.”

  Arabella did not know what to say. She knew this hadn’t been the revelation that sent her grandmother across the river into Texas. Her silence didn’t deter Nanette in the slightest.

  “Are you involved with a man?”

  “Not in the conventional sense.” Arabella took a deep breath and was ready to plunge into an explanation. There was no use trying to keep anything from this bunch. Before Arabella could elaborate, Elizabeth breezed in.

  “Now the festivities can begin.” Elizabeth made the rounds, properly, greeting each one with a hug and a kiss. “Are you talking about Arabella’s lover?”

  My mother has absolutely no manners.

  “I am replete with manners, my dear.”

  “Mother, stop reading my mind!” She wished she could get mad at her mother, but she couldn’t. Elizabeth was just too cute, by far. Maybe, she would feel better if she just laid bare her soul. “All right, all right. Somebody make some coffee and I will explain everything.”

  At her suggestion, Angelique headed to the kitchen. They all followed her and gathered around the round oak table, which served as the center of the French Country kitchen. Someone had put on a pot of gumbo. The smells were out of this world.

  “Did you bring that heavenly concoction with you?” Arabella asked.

  Angelique answered, “I started the roux yesterday and when Nanette decided we should come, I packed it up and finished after we arrived.”

  “The cats came too, I see.” Elizabeth noted the two fat black tomcats lounging on the floor in front of the stove. They weren’t alone. Arabella’s two cats were there also. Amos and Butterbean were Tabbies. Amos, an orange tabby was twice the size of the brindle colored Butterbean. They were as spoiled as the rappers. They all settled down to talk once the coffee was made. “Spill it.” Elizabeth did not waste words.