"Humph," Cecelia replied.
"If you're worried about Moe being a bad guy," David said, "he's not. He's quite the gardener, and quite the gentleman."
"Still not the way I would have chosen to meet him," she said.
"That's understandable," Naomi said. "But don't go off the handle here, Okay?" Naomi smiled at her grandmother. "Such a great Witch, but still such an old fuddy duddy." She smiled.
"Humph," Cecelia said.
* * * * *
"But how am I going to leave this room?" Monica asked.
They had put on clothing and all evidence of their little quickie had been erased. Cecelia had grudgingly given Monica and Moe her blessing. "Keep her happy," was all that Cecelia would say.
"I just think it's great that you two are in love!" Lucia said. "I love a good romance."
They had brought Moe and Monica both up to speed on what was going on. But in order to lock Roz away in the attic room, it would be better if Monica was not in it. "I can't leave this room," she said. "You know that."
"Of course we do," Cecelia said. "That is why we thought of a solution."
The words hung in the air for a moment. "What do you mean?" Monica asked, her voice hushed.
"It means we think we found a way so that you can leave the room and move around the house, like Moe does now."
A tear rolled down Monica's cheek. "Oh, God!" she started to cry. "That would be so wonderful, I've thought of nothing but that for so long! It's been my dream!"
"Well, now the dream will become a reality," Naomi replied, touching Monica's hand lightly. "What do we need to do?" Monica asked.
"It's actually pretty simple," Cecelia said. "You have to ask the house for energy."
"That's it?" she replied.
"The house is full of energy. It keeps Moe alive and well, it can do the same for you, could it not? Now that you have me back in your life, now that your unfinished business has been dealt with, there's no reason it won't work."
"All I have to do is ask?"
"It can hear our very thoughts," Cecelia said.
Monica looked at the walls around her. She approached the south wall carefully, cautiously. "I know you can hear me," she said. "Please. If what they just said is true, I would love nothing more than to be free." A hum began to build in the room. Everyone heard it, felt it growing around them. The room was filled with energy. "Please, I would love nothing more than to be out of this room, to be able to walk among your hallways. You are such a beautiful house. . .." She placed her hand lightly on the wall and the connection was made.
A white light appeared for one brief moment before Monica and then it was upon her; it covered her head and then her shoulders and then her chest, until her entire body was covered in a cocoon of light. She hovered in the air for a moment before the white light put her gently back down on the ground again and slowly faded away. Monica stood quite still for a moment and then ran out of the room, to the other side of the doorway’s threshold. Nothing happened. She came back to the wall and kissed it softly. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so very much."
* * * * *
After Monica's release from her prison, Moe took her around the house to give her a tour and so that they could pick their own bedroom together. They wanted to give the others room for what they had to do. Chip especially. It was not easy knowing that they were about to lock away his wife in an attic, and there was nothing he could do. He watched with a pale face as Cecelia put Roz's sleeping form on the bed. She looked like Sleeping Beauty. Cecelia closed the door behind her. There was a little panel in it, so that you could slide food underneath. There was also a panel at eye level, so that you could observe whoever was in the room. Once the door was closed and locked, they all looked at Cecelia. "So what happens now?" Chip asked.
"Now?" she said. "Now, we wait."
There was a moment of quiet before a loud shout ripped through the air. Chip pulled back the eye panel of the door just in time to see his shocked wife's face as she floated several feet above the bed.
“Chip!" Roz screamed. "Chip, what's happening?"
He turned to Cecelia. "Stop whatever it is you're doing right now."
"I'm not doing it! We're not doing anything." Chip went to open the door. "No! We don't know how dangerous she is!"
"She's my wife!"
"She's dangerous!" Cecelia snapped.
They watched, helpless, as Roz began to float higher. . . .
* * * * *
"You've got to do something!" Chip lunged at the door again.
Cecelia wrapped her arms around him and held him in place. "No, you can't go in. If you touch her, it could be dangerous!"
"You keep saying that, stop saying that!" he yelled back at her. "She is my WIFE and I love her, do you understand? Why can't you exorcise the demon out of the baby? What good are you? You're useless!" He turned and screamed at Orlando and Naomi. "You're both useless! All your talk of magic and you can't even save my wife!"
"The baby inside your wife is a demon," Nomi said as if he hadn't spoken. "There is no demon to exorcise. Demons are born much the same way that humans are. Your wife wants to keep the baby, she told us so herself. There is nothing we can do."
"Besides," Cecelia said. "The fact that she is pregnant with a demon foetus is probably why she is receiving prophetic dreams. The two can often be interlinked. If we terminate the pregnancy, we terminate our connection to Poppy and Alicia."
Chip spluttered. "It sounds so clinical."
"Leaving sentiment out of an explanation spares hurt." She loosened her grip.
"If it helps, I am scared to the core and more sorry for your wife’s predicament than you could ever know. What we are doing to Roz is no better than what Karma's grandmother did to Monica, yet we have no choice. But we are damned if we do and damned if we don't."
Naomi put a hand on Chip’s arm. "Even if we could terminate the pregnancy, your wife would probably die in the process. Our hands are tied and there is nothing we can do. We must let the pregnancy run its course."
They looked in through the slit in the door. Roz continued to float above the bed. She still called out his name, but her words were becoming gibberish. "Chip! Help. . .floating above the high ground. . .seeking entrance through the walls. . .cracking apart. . .walls of granite and stone. . .Chip, oh God, oh God, Chip, I don't. . .hear the cries of her. . . ."
Chip looked on even as he could do nothing. His wife's eyes told of the pain she was in, even if the demon would not let her say it in words. Naomi spoke, as if she had read his thoughts. "The demon is trying to control her. Stress is just as big a factor in demon pregnancy as it is in humans. It's trying to stop her from freaking out."
Roz continued to float and speak in riddles until Chip could stand watching it no longer. Despite the cries of everyone in the attic, he opened the door and stepped inside. It was colder inside the room. Already, the temperature had begun to drop and Chip's breath showed in the air before him, a cloud of vapour and steam. His wife was quiet now, floating on the ceiling, looking down at him with eyes which were wide with fear.
"Chip!" she stretched an arm out to him, a hand, fingers, even knowing that she would not be able to reach him. "I love. . .you."
"I love you too baby," he said, tears stinging his eyes.
"I am coming down," Roz said.
"No, I don't want you to do anything that could —”
"No!" Roz spoke through clenched teeth. "I am. . .coming down." He could tell that the demon was controlling her, trying so hard to maintain its hold on her. She struggled against it briefly and was rewarded with freedom. She plummeted to the floor, only to be caught in Chip’s arms. "Now. . .listen. . .to me."
"Alright," Chip said.
"We don't. . .have much time." Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. "I am almost lost inside here. . .the prophet and the demon. . ..need too much space. . .but I will be here. . .when both are gone. . .I love you so much, Chip."
"And I love yo
u, Roz." He bent his head and they kissed softly. And his wife went limp in his arms.
* * * * *
"I don't care what you say." Chip told Cecelia after he had exited the room. "I'm sleeping here."
Chip had moved a lot of clothes, a bed, some belongings and set up shop in the main attic room of the Coven House. What with Poppy now inside it, the space for her art studio was not needed at present. Besides, the attic was huge. Chip left Poppy's studio alone; touching it seemed almost sacrilegious with her gone. He set up his bed right up against the wall dividing them. He left the door unblocked, so others could come and go. He found it odd that all that separated him from the woman he loved was a wall and a door.
"I still don't think it's a good idea," Cecelia said.
"You don't think anything's a good idea," Orlando said.
"She's my wife and I'm not leaving her," Chip said.
"We don't know what will happen, it's too dangerous to have you up here!"
"You also think everything is dangerous," Orlando said. David stifled a giggle.
"She's my wife," Chip said again. "I AM NOT leaving her. Alright?" he looked around the room to see if someone would challenge him. No one did. "Besides, if she's so dangerous, she needs to be looked after at all times. And if she's going to be sprouting some prophetic bull crap, someone needs to be here to write it all down. I'll do that."
"That's a good idea," Lucia said. "And then, if she wakes, he can contact one of us."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Orlando said.
"We could be on rotation. Every night, someone new is on call, and if Roz wakes, Chip can call whoever is on duty. We all have cell phones right?"
Chip shot his friends a grateful look. Finally, Cecelia and Naomi nodded. "Sounds like a good idea to us," Naomi said.
He went to the door and opened up the eye slit. Roz had been tied to the bed with silk ropes, but even now her body tried to float up to the ceiling. She slept during the day but was awake with nightmares filled with prophecies during the night. Chip didn't care about the prophecies. He just wanted his wife back. He looked at his wife, through the door, and longed to hold her close to him.
Chapter Thirty Two
Mistress Lady Woman
Mistress tapped her fingernails against her desk impatiently. She was doing that a lot lately. She had been searching for a way into the Coven House for days and still had found nothing that would help her break through the house’s walls. She had searched through all of her old books from the Coven and still found nothing. She searched in archives of old Witchcraft texts, perused scrolls from the Dead Sea, read the books of prophecy from the Delphi Oracle; still nothing. There was nothing she could find that would help her crack the nut that the Coven House had become. Mistress was very frustrated and that was not doing wonders for the glamours and spells that she kept around herself. She was hundreds of years old but appeared as if she were in her late thirties. One had to keep up appearances or risk discovery. If anyone found out her true age, and what she was and had been, her life would be over. She flipped through her day timer and paged her secretary. She would have to book a facial.
In order to give herself an occupation, Mistress ran a very successful antiques business. She specialized in the strange and unusual, archaic pieces and hard to find religious objects. She was paid handsomely, beautifully, for her pieces. She smiled to herself. She loved the rich life she was living. Being evil was so much more fun than being good. She had tried being good and it had gotten her a Coven that fell apart, madness, and poverty. Never again, she told herself. Katherine had died so that The Mistress could be born. She resumed tapping her fingers on her desk, trying to think of a way to answer the riddle that was before her when the phone rang. She clicked the speakerphone.
"Yes?" she said.
"Katherine?" her secretary, Izza, had a soft voice and it always managed to soothe Mistress. She also called her by her old name, Katherine. She shuddered at having to use the name, but needs must. She had to keep up a good front for any nosey parker that could come along. Secrets were always hidden in lies.
"Yes, Izza, dear. What is it?"
"There is a woman on the phone for you."
"Who from?"
"I don't know, Katherine."
"You don't know?"
"She wouldn't say. She wouldn't even give me her name. All she said was to tell you it's about the Coven and that you would know what that means."
Mistress felt her face pale. She felt excitement build inside her until it was churning and boiling and popping. The air around her filled with electricity and it crackled on her skin. "Oh, the Coven," she said softly. "There are artefacts from the Salem witch trials that relate to a Coven. Yes, you can put her through."
"Alright Katherine, here you go," Izza said. And then:
"Hello?" The woman's voice was smoky and had a twang to it.
"Who is this?" Mistress asked. "How do you know about the Coven?"
"There are a lot of things I know."
"What do you want?"
"I want to meet you somewhere."
"Fine, name your time and place."
"The Gazebo behind Parliament Hill in twenty minutes."
"I'll be there," Mistress said and punched the release button to end the call.
* * * * *
The Gazebo had been behind Parliament Hill for as long as Mistress could remember. She had no idea when it had been built, but remembered her husband proposing to her on its very planks. It had been repainted in shades of grey, white and blue. The sight of it sickened her. She saw the woman standing in the darkness that surrounded the Gazebo. The lights inside the gazebo were dimmed for night time, but they provided enough light to cause shadows. "Come out of the darkness," Mistress said. "So that I may see you better."
The woman laughed. "I don't think so."
"I don't do business with people I can't see."
"Fine," the woman said, the twang evident even in her anger. She stepped forward and the light bathed her. Her overly made-up face looked fake in the light and the woman was a mask of heavy foundation, blue eye shadow and a thin lipped mouth that was painted a shocking red. Her brown hair was in loose curls around her chubby face. She smiled and Mistress could see a gold tooth. Mistress looked her up and down and smiled. There was enough evil emanating from this woman to suit her nicely. "My name is Mistress," she said.
"Pleased to meet you," the woman said. "My name is LaWanda."
Chapter Thirty Three
Women of the Night
Mistress smiled. "What kind of name is LaWanda?"
"Mine," LaWanda said. Her voice was challenging.
Mistress laughed a low smoky laugh. "I like you. You have spunk." She walked towards her.
"Spunk?"
Mistress sighed. "Yes, you know, spunk, moxy, guts. I like people who have the guts to stand up to me." Mistress frowned then and narrowed her eyes. "Don't do it again."
Mistress walked up to LaWanda and, before the woman could react, took LaWanda's chin in between her red taloned fingers. She turned her head from left to right, observing her as if she were livestock.
"I live only to serve," she said.
Mistress laughed. "Is that so? We'll see about that. First, how about you tell me how you know who I am?"
LaWanda looked as if she were going to run right then, bolt away from her like a deer in the headlights. Mistress tightened her grip on LaWanda's chin. "There are rumors. . . ." she began.
This was something new. She had not thought that others would know of her. "Rumors?"
LaWanda nodded. "There is talk in the streets that you are magic, that you are older than magic. I know the people you seek."
"Tell me how you found me," Mistress said. She dug her fingernails into LaWanda's skin.
"I used to be Poppy's woman until she had enough of me. I started dating Alicia. . . ."
Mistress’ attention perked up at this. "The Guide?"
"Yes, but I did not know w
hat they were when I was with either of them. When Poppy dumped me, I was bitter." She laughed a loud, barking laugh. "More than bitter. That girl was my meal ticket, my key to the world. She has money, that girl."
"I know this."
LaWanda continued. "I started dating Alicia. She runs that occult shop, Strange and Unusual? We hit it off and I was dipping into her funds, when Poppy warned her about me."
"I see you have built yourself quite the reputation."
"I guess so. I did it to myself though. I've always wanted more from everyone than they were willing to give."
"That is a very enviable trait. I like that in a person. What happened after Alicia?"
"Well, they ended up beating me up after I went a little nuts. I tried to get Alicia back and she wouldn't have me, so I went after Poppy."
"How quick you are to turn on your lady love."
"They left me unconscious. I had multiple fractures to my face. . .I was a mess. I went home when I woke and started thinking. If they would play magic Witches together, screwing each other, then I would play magic with them. I started learning what I could, listening to what people were saying. I found books, found a coven, but that wasn't for me. I'm too independent to let someone else do the magic. I wanted the power."
"Everyone must have their dreams. It is good that you chose to follow yours." Mistress wanted to keep LaWanda talking; she had to find out what she knew.
"I went to a Goth night at Zaphods one night and met these two guys. . .Lucas and Sean. They were part of a Coven that Poppy and Alicia belonged to. They told me the stories that surrounded Poppy, what she was. They told me about the Coven."
"Where are these boys now?" Mistress did not like others, especially men, knowing of the Coven's existence.
"They moved away to join another coven. I haven't seen them since. But they told me about you. . .they said that it was all just rumours, myths, legends of the city, but I knew better. There was a ring of truth to it."
Electric Blue Page 17
