Four Warned

by Cindy Stark

  FOUR WARNED

  Teas & Temptations Mysteries

  Book Four

  By Cindy Stark

  www.cindystark.com

  Four Warned © 2018 C. Nielsen

  Cover Design by Kelli Ann Morgan

  Inspire Creative Services

  All rights reserved

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. The ebook contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or stored in or introduced into an information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Welcome to Stonebridge, Massachusetts

  Welcome to Stonebridge, a small town in Massachusetts where the label “witch” is just as dangerous now as it was in 1692. From a distance, most would say the folks in Stonebridge are about the friendliest around. But a dark and disturbing history is the backbone that continues to haunt citizens of this quaint town where many have secrets they never intend to reveal.

  Visit www.cindystark.com for more titles and release information. Sign up for Cindy’s newsletter to ensure you’re always hearing the latest happenings.

  Prologue

  Stonebridge, Massachusetts 1689

  Clarabelle walked swiftly and surely through the pre-dusk light. An eerie wind blew through the trees, causing the growing shadows to lurk like predators. She constantly searched left and right for anyone who might see her sneak away.

  She, Eliza, and Lily wouldn’t have long before they were missed. If their fathers discovered where they had gone and their intentions, they likely wouldn’t live long enough to fear persecution by the townsfolk.

  Genevieve and her mother had been sentenced to death nearly a month ago, but many in town still lived on the edge of paranoia, searching for the next person to condemn as a witch. Clarabelle had been warned not to do anything that would cast doubt about her belief in the righteous leaders of the church.

  She narrowed her gaze as a fresh wave of painful sorrow overwhelmed her heart over the loss of a dear friend and sister witch. No, she would not do anything in the open where villagers could see, but she also would not let Genevieve’s death go unanswered.

  When she neared their meeting grounds, deep in the old grove, she slipped behind a tree and waited. The whispering winds made it hard to listen for anyone who might be nearby, and she didn’t want to venture further without ensuring she was alone.

  She closed her eyes and whispered. “The song is over, dear winds. The dance is at an end. Pause for a moment to take a rest, before the loving maestro lifts her bow to start again. Bring quiet to the forest, I ask of thee. A hush to nature, so mote it be.”

  The stiff breeze died so quickly that she worried she might have forced all oxygen from the atmosphere. She filled her lungs to reassure herself and then relaxed. With her eyes still closed, she listened and reached out with other senses searching for anything that didn’t belong.

  A minute drifted by, but...nothing.

  She smiled and nodded to herself before continuing on her way.

  When Clarabelle arrived at the circle, she wasn’t happy to discover Genevieve’s sister, Scarlet, sitting in the grass next to Lily with their heads bent together. Wood had been gathered and laid before them in preparation for a fire.

  They both looked up with guilty expressions.

  Lily held out a hand toward Clarabelle. “So glad you made it here safely, dear sister.”

  Clarabelle nodded in greeting, took her hand, and squeezed. “Same to you, sister.”

  She turned her gaze to Scarlet and sat, forming more of the circle. Even though Scarlet was two years younger than the rest of them, she looked so much like Genevieve with her curly red hair and fire blazing in her green eyes. “Why are you here? Isn’t it enough that your family has lost two loved ones? You shouldn’t endanger yourself like this, not when we can handle matters for you.”

  A strong defiance reared inside Genevieve’s younger sister and emanated outward. “Of all of you, I have the most right to be here. I am the one who lost the most.”

  Clarabelle slid an unhappy gaze toward Lily who twisted a dark braid around her finger instead of meeting Clarabelle’s gaze. She’d obviously been the one to disclose their intended meeting to Scarlet. “That is true. But, what about your father? He needs you.”

  Fury spit sparks from Scarlet’s eyes. “My father is a shell of the man he once was. These people destroyed him. He might as well be dead, too.”

  Anguish tore at Clarabelle’s heart, further stirring her anger. None in Genevieve’s family had deserved to be tortured and destroyed. She and her sisters would avenge their deaths.

  She gave Scarlet an acknowledging nod. “I understand. Our powers will be stronger with you taking your sister’s place, but you must promise the utmost care. Protect yourself at all costs. We all owe that to Genevieve.”

  Scarlet gave her a cold smile. “Do not fear, sister. I no longer possess the same fears as my mother and Genevieve did. I am not afraid to learn no matter how dark or bloody the spells you intend. I have already lost everything. To take my life now would be a blessing, but I shall make them pay first.”

  “Yes,” hissed Lily. “They shall pay for their ignorance and cruelty.”

  Clarabelle couldn’t argue that. Fiery vengeance burned deep within her soul, and she intended to release it upon those who’d persecuted her friend.

  Eliza arrived last, her long blond hair tangled about her shoulders and her breaths deep. She sank to the grass and completed the circle. “Sorry. I had to sneak away, and my mother wouldn’t let me out of her sight until all the evening chores were done.”

  Clarabelle glanced at the small group of fierce women. “Heretofore, we will only meet on a new moon, and only then if we deem it safe. If we are to succeed, we must stay hidden until we can learn to conjure powers that no man can undermine.”

  The other three witches murmured their agreement.

  She thought of dear Genevieve the last time they’d sat in this circle together, and tears sprang to her eyes. “They cannot make us leave this town. It belongs to us, too.”

  Eliza nodded. “My family was one of the first to settle this area. We’ve been here longer than most.”

  Lily threw a twig onto the pile of leaves, sticks and small pieces of wood. “We need to show them that they can’t control us. I say we craft a curse that prevents them from ever making us leave.”

  Clarabelle liked that idea. “A curse that ensures someone in our line will always reside in Stonebridge, that they will never erase us. They did not allow our poor Genevieve to live long enough to bear a child, but her line shall be carried on through her sister.” She glanced to Scarlet, hoping that would give her some comfort.

  Scarlet scanned the faces of the rest of them, her eyes intense. “That’s not enough,” she demanded. “I want a life for a life.”

  A sinister look hovered in the shadow of Lily’s eyes. “Yes.
They deserve to pay, and no matter how many years pass, they will not be able to forget what they’ve done. A life now, and another every year on the same date.”

  Eliza shook her head. Powerful fear filled her gaze and left her body stiff. “No. That’s too much. We don’t have that kind of power, and it will be dangerous for us to attempt that spell.”

  Clarabelle sensed Scarlet’s and Lily’s anger taking a turn toward frenzy. She wanted to make the town suffer for its cruelty, too, but they couldn’t afford to be reckless. “What do you suggest, Eliza?”

  Eliza studied the unlit fire for several long moments and then looked up. “One person every forty years, and that person shall die on May Day.”

  “That’s too long,” Scarlet complained. “I might not be around to witness the next one.”

  Lily scoffed. “We might not be around to witness the next solstice.”

  Eliza held up a hand to halt the conversation. “Forty years is long enough that no one will be able to forget. We will ensure others pass down the lore through future generations. It’s also a spell that we can reasonably create. We want this to work, don’t we?”

  Clarabelle nodded. “She is right. Forty years on May Day. When the death occurs, no one will be able to deny the great pain we endured and the retribution that followed.”

  The wind kicked up, whistling through the tall trees overhead, and teased their hair. Scarlet glanced to Lily who held her gaze for several seconds, and then they both nodded. Clarabelle wasn’t sure how, but she sensed that they’d communicated on a deeper level. She would be careful to remember that.

  Lily slipped a small book from the waist of her skirt. “I was able to find my family’s ancient spell book that my mother had hidden away.”

  Her declaration caught Clarabelle by surprise. “How?” She and Lily had been certain that her mother had hidden it behind powerful magic.

  Lily shrugged. “I prayed to the Blessed Mother to give me access to what was mine, and then I opened my senses and followed my instincts. It was in a place I’d already looked.”

  Eliza widened her eyes. “Don’t let your mother find out.”

  A crafty smile curved Lily’s lips. “She won’t. I’ve hidden its absence behind another spell. She would only discover it missing if she physically tried to pick it up. Which she won’t. She’s too afraid.”

  But Lily wasn’t afraid. Clarabelle both admired her for that and fretted over it.

  Lily opened the book while the rest stared in awe of its ancient power. She thumbed through pages and then glanced up, meeting each of their gazes. “We will need representation of the four elements. My air is obviously present in the wind. Clarabelle, you will need to keep one hand in contact with the earth while we cast the spell. Scarlet will light the fire when we are ready to begin.”

  Lily paused to reach into her sleeve, and she produced a small bottle. “Lastly, I’ve brought water for Eliza.”

  Excitement and anxiety thrummed through Clarabelle’s veins. They were really going to do this.

  Eliza wrapped her arms about her waist. “How do we know which words to say?”

  Lily shook her head. “You won’t speak. Only I will since I’ll be using the ancient language, and none of you are versed in it.”

  “Are you?” Clarabelle asked. As much as she wanted to complete the spells, she needed to be sure they could.

  Lily’s eyes brightened. “I have been burning candles late into the night so that I might study. The words have come easy to me, which can only mean I was meant to learn them. If we are ever able to congregate for long periods of time, I will teach you, too.”

  The group seemed to accept that.

  Lily turned the book to show them. “By altering a few words in this one, I believe it will work for us.” She glanced at Scarlet. “Did you bring the knife?”

  She nodded and handed the short, bejeweled dagger to Lily. None of them needed to ask if this kind of spell would require blood.

  “Are we ready then?” Lily asked, waiting for a nod from each before she shifted her gaze to the next witch.

  When all had agreed, Lily drew the knife across her palm, leaving a red trail in its wake. “I will hold my blood up to the wind. Eliza, drop yours into the water, and Clarabelle, press yours into the earth. When we have all done ours, then Scarlet, you will light the fire. We will need a drop of your blood to fall into the flames to start the ritual and then end it.”

  She passed the knife to Eliza who winced as she cut her flesh and then passed it on.

  Clarabelle wrapped her fingers around the hilt and gasped as powerful energy flooded her. She could only imagine what Scarlet would feel when her blood joined the others.

  She slid the sharp edge of the knife across her palm and allowed vengeful hatred to infiltrate every part of her body and soul. Power sizzled inside, and she inhaled deeply, soaking up the heady feeling.

  She handed the knife to Scarlet with a smile. Her new sister returned the gesture and nodded.

  Yes. Together, they would become a force that no one could stop.

  “Light the fire, Scarlet,” Lily said. “The rest of you make ready. We won’t have long once it’s burning.”

  Scarlet inhaled a deep breath and focused on the logs. Thin tendrils of smoke curled upward. A tiny flame burst in the dried grass and immediately spread to the twigs. The small flame grew larger, and the pieces of wood popped and hissed.

  Scarlet got to her knees and the rest of them added blood to their elements. The youngest member cut her palm with a swift slice and held it over the fire. Blood gathered on the underside of her hand, and Clarabelle inhaled in preparation.

  A bloody drop fell onto the fire, and the flames squealed and hissed in response.

  Lily dropped her gaze to the book and began chanting in a foreign tongue. Hot, flickering flames grew higher as she spoke, and Clarabelle prayed to the Blessed Mother to watch over and protect them.

  She sensed powerful darkness rising from the earth, creeping into her fingers, and throughout her hand before it traveled toward her heart. This ritual would change them all forever. She opened her heart to the darkness and let it flood her.

  “So mote it be,” Lily whispered, and the rest of them repeated the words in agreement.

  “Seal it with blood,” Lily instructed Scarlet.

  She squeezed her hand together until another drop landed with a hiss and sizzled in the flames. A ripple of energy stole the breath from Clarabelle’s lungs, and she struggled to get it back.

  “Together now,” Clarabelle said breathlessly, and the four of them clasped hands. “Blessed Mother, seal our wounds and bind us together. Let these spells stand until forever. We sisters together always will be. We ask of this, so mote it be.”

  The four witches got to their feet and kicked dirt over the fire to smother it. “Now, hurry home,” Clarabelle said. “And speak of this to no one. When we can be sure the curse has worked, we will find a way to let it be known they have created a vile creature with their actions. Blessed be.”

  The others whispered the same and headed off in different directions.

  Clarabelle raced through the darkening forest lest she be missed for being gone so long.

  As she reached the town, she realized her fears had been for nothing. For a large commotion ensued in the street. When she drew closer, she realized the crying was for Mr. Braswell, a cruel man who had somehow impaled himself on a pitchfork.

  One

  Current Day

  Hazel consulted the gadget on her wrist and then sent an annoyed look in Cora’s direction. “I feel like a dog.”

  Cora turned a curiously disturbed look in her direction. “Huh?”

  “I have to walk to get my treats. We’ve been out for nearly an hour, and I’ve only burned enough for one and a half cherry macaroons. Why is life so cruel?” Not to mention, the sun seemed extra hot today even though it was barely past ten a.m.

  Cora snickered as she pumped her elbows to increase her
workout. “Hasn’t anyone told you, life isn’t fair?”

  “Well, it should be. If I get the chance, I’ll be talking to the Blessed Mother about that one.”

  Cora grinned. “You do that. Just make sure it’s not until you’re really old.”

  “Then what’s the point?” she said sarcastically. “If I’m ready to leave Earth, then it won’t matter. I need someone to fix this now.”

  Her friend chuckled as they turned onto Camden Street. “Good luck with that one.”

  Hazel spied several people gathered on the church’s lawn ahead and narrowed her gaze to see better. “What’s going on at the old church?”

  “Not sure,” Cora said. “Let’s find out.”

  As they neared, Hazel spotted the church’s priest outside with Lobster Lucy standing next to a folding table and Mrs. Tillens seated on the only chair. She’d never had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the priest, and instinct told her she didn’t want to now.

  Hazel slowed her stride. “Let’s turn around.”

  Cora drew her brows together. “Why?”

  “The priest is there, and I really don’t want to be anywhere near him.”

  “Father Christopher?” She shrugged. “He’s all right.”

  That didn’t help her anxiety in the least. “He freaks me out. I’m afraid he’s going to sense my magic, or the church will crumble if I go anywhere near it.” It wasn’t that she had an aversion to churches, just this church.

  Cora’s chuckle echoed through the stifling morning air.

  Hazel came to a complete stop and turned her back to the church. “I’m serious. I get bad vibes from him.”

  “He’s just a regular man, Hazel. He can’t sense magic or read auras. If he did, they’d kick him out of the church.”

  “Maybe so, but don’t forget Timothy Franklin has magic in his blood even though he doesn’t claim it, and he secretly uses it against us. So, maybe the priest does, too, and we don’t know it.”