The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4)

by Aasheim, April

  “Why do you care where I go or who I screw? Do you think I don’t know about your lovers?”

  “I’m not moving in with any of them.”

  Armand ground his teeth. “And I’m not going to Larinda’s.”

  The witch’s face paled. With hesitation, she asked, “Are you going to Jillian’s?”

  Armand took a deep breath, pausing. “No.”

  “I see.” Sasha backed away, stopping in front of a bookshelf. She lifted a photo of her and Jillian together, holding it up for him to see. “Please don’t corrupt that young woman, Armand. She has too much Light.”

  He let out a guttural laugh. “Then maybe she can save me.”

  Sasha regarded him with cool eyes. “You have to save yourself.”

  Armand drew the last hit from his cigarette, then flicked it out the window. He walked to the door with a weary sigh, and opened it wide. “You shouldn’t bait me, Sasha. I’m stronger than you. Maybe I wasn’t before, but I am now. You’ll regret treating me like your manservant one day.”

  “I’m not baiting you! And don’t underestimate me! Aging might be bad for warlocks, but it does wonders for witches.” She returned the photo to the shelf and reached for something else. Her wand. With a sly smile, she ran it along the length of her body. The silver threads in her hair deepened to a rich brown, and the lines on her forehead smoothed.

  The bitch.

  “Believe it or not, Sasha, there are more powerful beings in this world than you. And I’m now on a first-name basis with a few of them.”

  He pointed at the two halves of the broken tree limb on the ground, one with each hand.

  They burst, each splintering into a dozen bits.

  He opened the door and left, for good.

  TWENTY

  Blowin’ in the Wind

  I STIRRED MY coffee with my finger, blowing on it though the coffee was already cool from sitting out on the garden table. Still, an early morning like this called for such rituals. Montana smiled happily from his baby swing beside me, thrusting out his arms and legs, and resembling a strawberry-tipped star as he whizzed by.

  Jillian sat across from me, working a crossword puzzle. I added a sugar cube to my coffee and casually opened a conversation. “Jillian, you lived in the apartment above Uncle Joe’s diner when you were on the Council, right?”

  She tucked her pen behind her ear and regarded me with a pragmatic stare. The shadows around her eyes told me she had slept very little. Still, she kept up her spirits, camouflaging her exhaustion with concealer and a swipe of mascara. “I may have lost some of my abilities, Maggie, but I can tell there’s more to your inquiry than just polite small talk.”

  “You caught me,” I laughed, finishing off my coffee. I was tired myself. I leaned forward so that Aunt Dora, who was diligently burying more urine vases across the yard, didn’t hear us. “In the globe, Sasha asked Armand if he was going to live with you after he threatened to leave.”

  “Yes, I remember that night... I think. Armand stopped by after he and Sasha had a spat. He hinted about staying with me.”

  “You said no?”

  She smiled at the memory, her lips drawn and thoughtful, but her eyes far away. “I didn’t say no. He showed up on my doorstep the night of his birthday. It was raining, as usual, and when I let him in he went on and on about how awful Sasha was. I told him to stop, of course. That was practically heresy around here.” She stopped speaking as her eyes slid towards my aunt. “I mean, Armand could say those things, but if Sasha knew I’d listened...” Jillian shivered and her voice trailed off.

  “Where did he go, then?”

  “Maggie, I’m only able to confirm what you already know. I’m sorry.”

  I tapped the sides of my cup. “So, what do I know?”

  “You probably know by now that Armand was capable of love, correct?”

  I nodded slowly. “I think so. He loved Mother for a while, and maybe Larinda.” I paused, looking Jillian square in the eye. “And you.”

  Jillian’s response was silence. When at last she spoke, I could tell she was picking her words carefully. “Yes. Armand loved Larinda in his way. She agreed with his darker side, allowing him to do as he pleased without repercussion. But her darkness also scared him. Perhaps it reminded him––”

  “–––too much of himself,” I finished.

  “Yes. As for Sasha, she was his first love, I think. He worshiped her and her abilities, and he respected her headstrong ways. Even though he didn’t always agree with her cause.” She spread her palms across the garden table. “But Sasha... well, you knew her even better than I did.”

  I nodded. I didn’t know everything but I knew enough. Mother had never reciprocated his respect.

  “She was his teacher,” Jillian continued, nodding to herself. “And his mentor. But even though they were equals on some levels, they were worlds apart in their ideals.”

  “Yes.” I sucked in a breath, casting a quick glance at my son. The swing had had stopped and he was now watching a ladybug on his tray. I turned back to Jillian. “He loved you, too. Didn’t he? Maybe most of all.”

  Jillian’s shoulders raised then lowered, her pause both nostalgic and beaten.

  “Did you love him, too?”

  She smiled, looking for a moment like the young woman from my dream globes. “Yes.”

  “So why weren’t you two together? Mother be damned! You could have saved him, Jillian. I know it!”

  Jillian’s sigh was heavy. She traced the rim of her mug with her thumb, blinking away her tears. “Life is complicated, Maggie. Even more so in Dark Root. Armand loved me, but his love was twisted. He saw me not as a woman, but as something...”

  She pulled her hand from the mug abruptly, as if it had suddenly turned hot. “Something untouchable. Classic Madonna-whore complex. Sorry to be vulgar, but that’s what your father was dealing with. He had his good girls and his bad girls and he kept them separate––in his head, in his heart, and in his pants.” She grimaced, shaking it off. “With women, there were no gray areas for your father. Only black and white.”

  “Typical man!” I commiserated. “Michael used to be the same way.”

  “People change, as you’ve seen with Michael.”

  “But Armand didn’t, did he?”

  “No. He could only love me from a distance.” She smiled brightly, reclaiming her cup. “But from that distance, friendship grew. I probably knew more about his inner workings than even Sasha.”

  “Then you should have fought for him!”

  “Sometimes things work out exactly the way they are supposed to, even if it breaks our hearts. Besides, I respected Sasha too much. When I lost my own mother, she filled the role. She found me, trained me, and made me feel normal for once.”

  “Ya needin’ more coffee?” Aunt Dora stood with a groan, trundling towards our table without the aid of her cane. Her hands and knees were mud-stained and her face was as lined as a garden gnome’s. Fatigue was catching up to her, too.

  “I’m good,” I said, covering the cup with my hands.

  She furrowed her bushy brows, then headed inside to clean up.

  “She’s a trooper,” Jillian said. “That woman’s seen more wars and tragedies than anyone should in one lifetime, yet she soldiers on. I always loved her. When I lived here before, she became my honorary aunt, too.” Jillian squeezed my hand. “Family is made, Maggie. Never forget it. And though I left Dark Root decades ago, this town was always family to me.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  The mechanical ratcheting sound of Montana’s swing started up again, and the swing slowly began oscillating back and forth. My son let out a triumphant whoop. Jillian and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide as we each held back a laugh.

  “I suppose I should be happy he’s self-sufficient,” I said. “It’s a good trait for a kid of mine to have.”

  “You’re certainly going to have your hands full with a baby magician,” she said.


  “That’s one of the many reasons I need you in my life. I’m pretty lost with this parenthood thing. And a baby who can do what he does...” I shook my head. “Maybe he’ll outgrow it?”

  “It’s possible. Children are often born with talent that disappears later in life. That happened to me. My parents didn’t approve of me talking to the dead neighbors so I was sent to Catholic School, where I promptly forgot what I naturally knew. It wasn’t until the car wreck that it all came back.” She glanced again at Montana. “Lucky for this little guy, he’ll always feel loved and accepted.”

  “Yes, no matter how much sleep he deprives me of.” I tickled his foot as he swung close. He giggled and pulled in his leg. “I’ll need lots of help. Lots and lots of help,” I reiterated.

  “You’ll have it.”

  A breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees. Jillian’s eyes were faraway again, her expression unreadable. I couldn’t read minds, but I knew she was troubled.

  Was she thinking of what was to come or what had been?

  I knew more about her and Armand than ever, but I still didn’t know what any of it meant. I’d keep viewing the globes until I knew it all, or the curse was broken, or both. Still, the globe memories frightened me, especially the last few scenes. My father had descended down a dangerous road, with allusions to dark deals and demon summoning. All the while, Mother became more focused on her cause and the impending apocalypse.

  As my mind replayed my father’s globe memories, I was startled by a voice on the wind. A low-pitched, masculine wail that swirled through the leaves. I sat up taller, intently listening.

  “Magggggiieeee….”

  “Shane!”

  “Pardon?” Jillian asked.

  I put my fingers to my lips and held still. Sure enough, the voice called to me again.

  “It’s Shane! Can you hear him?”

  Jillian sat stock still, her eyes darting around. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I said, half rising to my feet in case I needed to chase the wind. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure!”

  We remained quiet and still, but there was no more. “He’s gone,” I said, sagging back into my chair, fighting back tears. “Jillian, I think he’s haunting me.”

  “Oh, Maggie, this has been hard, but––”

  “He is!” I insisted. “Jillian, you can still talk to the dead, right? Tell him to stay with me!” I stood again, calling out to the trees. “Shane! If you hear me, haunt me! Stay with me! Don’t leave!”

  “Maggie, you can’t say such things! It disrupts the natural order.”

  “I don’t care!” My eyes stung and I blinked rapidly. “He’s here because he has unfinished business with me. He was supposed to come back and marry me!”

  I called again. “Shane!” My knees shook, threatening to give out, and I saw the pitying look in Jillian’s eyes. I crumbled, drooping over the table.

  “I know it’s wrong. But it hurts,” I whispered, embarrassed. “I wish I hadn’t buried the ring.” I choked, looking desperately into my friend’s eyes. “I’ve never hurt this bad. What can I do?”

  She reached out and touched a strand of my hair. “Losing someone you love is the hardest thing we have to endure as humans,” she said, with a bittersweet smile. “But it’s the way it is, and the way it’s always been. And honey, your pain is greater than most, but you need to consider it a gift.”

  “Really?” I dropped back into my seat. “How can this be a gift?”

  “I have to tell you something. I had my suspicions earlier, but now I’m almost positive.”

  “What is it?”

  “Have you heard of soul mates?”

  I nodded, hesitantly. “Yes. You think Shane and I are...”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Soulmates are people from the same soul family who share many incarnations together. I think you and Shane are closer.”

  “Closer than soul mates? What does that mean? Be direct for once.”

  “What I’m about to say, I don’t say lightly or often. In fact, I’ve never said this to anyone. But Maggie, I believe that you and Shane are Twin Souls.”

  “Huh? I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” My voice was high and desperate. “What does that mean?”

  “Our souls were created in pairs. Those pairs separated out, into masculine and feminine energies. They then went their separate ways in order to experience every aspect of the human condition, reincarnating again and again, but never together.”

  “So, Shane and I... match?”

  “If my guess is correct, yes. You are two halves of a whole, which is why the pain is so great. And that would be why you hear him, even though I can’t. It is said that Twins will reunite in the final days, to help usher in the Light.”

  “How unfair, then. How unfair to give me the other half of my soul and then take it away!”

  She took my hand. “The final days are upon us. You and Shane reunited for this reason. It’s pure love––a light that others can see. And now that your souls have found one another, neither of you can rest until the other lets go.”

  My entire body shook. Twin Souls. It made sense. When we were together, it was like we were both listening to the same radio station. I told Jillian this.

  “Your vibrational frequencies are aligned. It is the greatest gift the soul can receive on this plane.”

  “And the worst.”

  “Yes.” Her chest heaved. “That too.”

  “Now you understand why I can’t let him go.”

  “I do understand. And I keep trying to tune into Shane, but all I get is static. No peace. No restlessness. Just a void. But keep that channel open, okay? If he’s... gone... and you’re receiving messages from him, there is a reason. It might be that he’s trying to protect you, or it might even be a warning. But don’t be selfish about keeping him here, okay? Once you get that message, you’ll need to set him free. It’s the only way he’ll find peace.”

  “The thought of living my life without him is too horrible.” I pressed my face into my hands. “God, Jillian. I wasn’t always nice to him. I fought with him. I called him a dork.” I almost choked on the last word, but it came out as a laugh. “I was jealous and argumentative and silly––to the one man I should have cherished.”

  “He loved you, Maggie. Unconditionally.” She massaged my hand and I felt her warm energy slide through me, offering comfort. It numbed the pain a little.

  “I’ll listen for his message,” I said.

  “Perhaps if Shane sees you moving forward with your life––and if we break this curse––he can be free.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  But I didn’t. Jillian had tried to make me feel better by telling me the truth, but it had only succeeded in making the loss even more crushing.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Do You Want to Know a Secret

  EVE TALKED ME into working Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe with her that evening. “New inventory,” she said, driving Montana and I in Merry’s sedan. “I think I’ve wiped out all traces of Michael from our store. A few more smudgings and this town will forget he ever existed.”

  “Not unless you can smudge him out of Dark Root,” I said.

  Montana hooted from the backseat as if he understood.

  “See,” Eve continued as we turned onto Main Street. “Even Opie wants him gone.”

  “Don’t call him that, Eve. He’ll get a complex.”

  “Every name carries a stigma, Maggie. When I was in Jr. High, I had a crush on a boy but couldn’t ask him to the dance because of his name.”

  “Which was?”

  She pursed her lips as she pulled into the lot behind Mother’s shop, a deliberate move so I didn’t have to look at Dip Stix. “Adam.”

  “Ha!” I slapped my knee. “Adam and Eve! Oh, you should have gone, if for no other reason than it would have made me deliriously happy.”

  “Which is why I didn’t.”

  “Some sister yo
u are,” I teased.

  She parked the car, pulling the keys from the ignition. “Tell me, Maggie Mae, have you been to any Rod Stewart concerts lately?”

  “Tell me Eve, have you tempted any men out of the garden lately?”

  “Only the lucky ones.”

  “Fine, you win.”

  I unbuckled Montana from his car seat and we entered Mother’s shop through the back door. I surveyed the supply room as we stepped inside, where we sold homemade potions and read Tarot cards for special customers. In Mother’s day, this room was a mess, but Eve had it in tip-top shape. Nothing dared to move from its place, lest it face my sister’s wrath.

  “Speak of the devil,” I said, pointing. In the center of the supply room stood a life-sized, faux-marble statue of biblical Adam, purchased by Michael months earlier. The statue’s alabaster skin beckoned to be touched, though his fig leaf, placed strategically in front of his not-so-impressive man parts, was a bit of a deterrent.

  Eve grunted as she took in the statue, slinging her purse over Adam’s stump of an arm. “At least he’s useful, unlike his purchaser.”

  Just inside the main shop, there were several dozen unopened boxes stacked three and four deep. I pushed one out of my way with my foot. “Where did all these come from?”

  “Amazon.”

  I sat Montana down in his car carrier, positioned so he could look at the various knick knacks and oddities that made our store famous. A cymbal-playing monkey bounded out from his clock as two ghost children danced upon a spinning pedestal beside it. Above them both, a raven perched atop a haunted birdhouse. It opened its beak and squawked, Nevermore, every few minutes. I had learned to drown out all of these noises long ago, but they were new to Montana and he gasped and giggled at each discovery.

  “Do we own stock in Amazon now, or are they just leasing space from us?” I asked, cutting through the tape of a large box with an old steak knife. A dozen nicely packaged signs reading “Witches Drive a Stick” stared up at me.

  “My plan is to flood this store with all new merchandise and get rid of the stodgy old energy.” Eve opened a small box and removed a silver tube, the size of my thumb. “Bet you didn’t know there’s something called Mood Lipstick?” She applied the cosmetic, leaving a bluish stain on her lips. “How does it look?” she asked, puckering.