Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3

by Marsha A. Moore

  I returned a polite smile. “I’m glad she likes me, but what about Tiber? Will I have to wear the same dress every day here to keep him from attacking?”

  “I’ll send him out to the shed tonight to hunt down his own dinner rather than the fancy cat food he’s used to. He’ll get that every night until he learns.” She chuckled. “If that don’t work, I reckon one touch from those fiery fingers of yours will set him straight, provided it’s only a little zap to frighten him.”

  I nodded, hoping I didn’t have to use my magic on her familiar.

  “I saw what happened at the coven’s main hall party. You sure stood your ground against those biddies. I was proud of you. Lots were.”

  I sat straighter and lifted my brows. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure what others would think.” With a grin, turned my attention to the patterns. I studied three dress pictures and selected one. “I like this one with the wide shoulders and flared skirt. Maybe it’ll make my waist look small like this model’s.”

  “Yep, that’s a good one for you.” Shireen scribbled in an open notebook and dragged a box overflowing with at least a hundred patterns between us. “Here’s my women’s winter designs. New ones are on top. Pick out ones you like for yourself, and those you think will sell well for display. I’ll do the same, then we’ll trade and talk it over.”

  I grabbed a handful of the paper packets and examined them, making three piles: store samples, clothes for me, and rejects.

  Shireen sorted more than half of the box before I looked at a dozen. Fancy pleats, peplums, and darted form-fitting styles caught my eye, each one pretty. Like with the pizza toppings, I wanted to try them all, see them all made up, whether for me or someone else. Slowly, I started to discriminate and moved many from my pile to the display stack.

  Shireen hummed to herself as she moved to tall shelves behind me and organized bolts. “When you’re finished, take a gander over here.”

  I placed the last envelope in the rejection pile and turned around. Rows of cottons filled the entire wall, everything from silky white broadcloths and sateens to plush flannels and velveteens. Unable to resist, I stood and stroked the naps of rich autumn colors. “Mom would be green with envy seeing all this. She got a few yards of these for special occasion clothes, never whole bolts.”

  “Plenty of women here spiff up to leave home.” She nodded to the opposite wall. “Those there are for everyday shirtwaist dresses. I only make them upon request for my regular clients since there’re plenty of seamstresses who turn out loose-fitting house dresses.” She lifted a brow. “Fine tailoring takes some skill and a bit of magic too. I stay to women’s clothes. Others in the coven cater to children and men.”

  “When you hired me, you said my magic could help you. How?” I asked.

  She ruffled a hand through her short gray hair, and a sly grin spread across her thin lips. “I’ve been thinking ’bout that. Can you add your magic to garments? Maybe to keep the wearer warmer or cooler depending on the season?”

  “I can enchant the sewing thread. I did that for my mother a few times. My sun energy made winter coats toasty warm.”

  She clasped her hands together, and a ruddy hue colored her cheeks. “That’s just what I was hoping for. That’ll give me a leg up on my competition—two ladies who’re trying to undercut my prices.”

  “I don’t know if I can make clothes that’ll keep people cool.” I tilted my head to one side. “I’ll have to work on reversing my powers for that. I know it’s possible, but I’ve never tried.”

  She bustled back to the table and exchanged our stacks. “No matter. We’ve got plenty of time before warm weather for you to figure that out. Right now, we need to get a move on for winter.” She hemmed and hawed over my choices, her dark eyes dancing with the same twinkle as in her mother’s photograph.

  I flipped through Shireen’s pile and held up an envelope. In the illustration, a smartly dressed woman wore a fitted suit, a jacket with shoulder pads and a peplum flounce over a pencil skirt. “I really like this one. Not for me, but I can see Cerise wearing this.”

  “Yep. She would. Did you spot some fabrics for that design in the other room?”

  I nodded. “The black and white hound’s-tooth would be perfect.”

  The shine in her eyes spread and lit a smile across her face. “My choice too. We’re thinkin’ alike; a good team. That suit will sure tempt ladies to put in requests for their sizes. Not to mention my new shop girl outfitted in new styles. On my old body, they’d look like sacks.”

  We discussed each pattern and settled on making eight new styles for display. For myself, I selected a nice variety of skirts and blouses, two dresses, a coat and a tailored jacket. With purchases of sweaters from other shops, I’d have enough for work. I liked all of my choices, but when Shireen pulled out cloth for a few casual shirtwaist dresses, I backed away. “I’ll stick with comfortable jeans and flannel shirts for home.”

  “I’m thinkin’ we best sew plenty of jackets for sale with your added warming charm. We may have a run on them. I hope, anyway.” She grinned and motioned me to the front of the store. “Let’s move these bolts to the workroom. Stack them on the open shelves with the correct patterns tucked in.”

  We cleaned up and rearranged the display racks. “Now we need to get your measurements and set the afternoon cutting on the table. I’m so excited ’bout trying your magic on my jackets, I’ll go lay that fabric out while you get undressed. Call me when you’re ready.” She swept into the back, giggling like a girl, despite the rolls of support stockings falling down toward her orthopedic shoes.

  I smiled, happy to be able to help, and stepped behind the folding screen. I unbuttoned my flannel shirt and hung it over the back of a rush-seat chair. I dropped my jeans to the floor. As I bent to gather them, the shop’s front door opened. The bells jingled, and a pleasant, cool breeze blew in carrying a whiff of masculine woodsy cologne. I poked my head above the top edge of a screen panel.

  Logan stood in the doorway. He shot me a wide grin, tipped his fedora, and golden curls fell across one eye. “Hi Aggie. How’s your first day of work going?”

  “Hi. Um…it’s going great,” I stammered. Stripped to my underwear with a handsome man staring at me, I couldn’t think of anything normal to say. Practically naked, I couldn’t help him, but Shireen continued humming in the workroom.

  “Um, can I help you with anything?” I asked him. The pale gray of his double-breasted suit made his eyes gleam like clear forest pools.

  “Well, I wanted to check to see how you were doing, and I have a bit of coven business with Shireen.”

  “Doing fine.” I struggled to make conversation while stretching to grab my shirt without disappearing from his view. The attempt was futile. “Just a sec. Gotta get decent.”

  “No rush. I didn’t realize…” A rosy blush spread across his fair cheeks. “Take your time.”

  Trying to hurry, I fumbled with my shirt buttons. My heart thumped against my breastbone. I took a deep breath and yanked my jeans over my hips, shoved in the tails of my shirt, and stepped out in my sock feet.

  Tiber appeared from under a clothes rack, ran between Logan’s legs, and clung to my ankle, claws locked onto my jeans.

  “Argh!” I shook my leg to get him off.

  “Whoa! What on earth?” Logan stooped and grabbed the cat, who spat and hissed at him while clinging tighter. Logan touched a crystal amulet hanging against his necktie. His eyes shifted to midnight blue as he lowered his gaze at Tiber.

  The cat recoiled to the back of my leg and sunk needle-sharp teeth into my calf, even through the denim.

  I shrieked and doubled over, grazing his tail with the tiny flames jetting from my fingertips. “Ow! Shireen! Your cat.” I yelled and winced, my skin punctured. Heat spread into my fingers, nails glowing. I tried to use my haptics on Tiber, but searing pain confused my reading and gave me only fragments of the familiar’s thoughts: outsider; protect mistress; Hypatia deceived.

 
; Shireen dashed to us as Tiber let out a piercing yowl and darted into the workroom. She raced after him. “Out! You hear me. Outside. The barn’s where you’ll stay until you come begging with your apologies for Aggie. Scoot.” The back door slammed, and she plodded to the showroom. “Are you okay?” She eyed my lower leg that Logan had exposed by rolling up my jeans. She shook her head, glaring at the bleeding punctures and scrapes. “Let me get some salve and cloth for bandages.” Muttering expletives under her breath, she made another visit to the workroom.

  Logan pointed his square chin across the room. “Lean against my shoulder, and I’ll help you to that chair.” He wrapped a strong arm around my waist, and, with his help, I hobbled to the seat and collapsed.

  Blood soaked my white sock. I surveyed the rug we crossed and winced at the trail of crimson drops. A red line stained Logan’s pant leg. I bit my lip. “I’ve ruined your suit. And Shireen’s rug.”

  Before he could answer, the shop owner bustled to me and dropped to her knees. “Not to worry, child.” With nimble fingers, she medicated and dressed the wounds in neat, white cloth strips. “Don’t worry ’bout the carpet. Every seamstress learns straight away to lift out blood stains from needle-pricked fingers. I just wish I was a healer.”

  Logan stood beside me rubbing a hand along my shoulder. Lightheaded, I wasn’t sure if it was from the cat bites or the tingling I got from Logan’s touch. The cute look of concern on his face almost made me forget the pain in my leg.

  Shireen looked at him. “Familiars can leave wicked infections if they intend harm. Tiber’s powers are related to mine, but I don’t know how to reverse his deed. Can you?”

  “No. I do know some who can though.” He nodded to me. “You met them at the party. Rowe, a talented healer, and his girlfriend, Jancie. And Vika knows a lot about the ways of familiars.”

  Shireen replied, “Vika, that’s right. I’ll give her a call. The way that cat’s been actin’ all morning, I suspect the worst.” She hoisted herself up with a groan and stepped behind the counter, phone in hand as she consulted a notebook.

  “I thought you said your day was going well?” Logan moved in front of me.

  “Shireen’s great.” I stretched my ankle to loosen the stiffness spreading over my lower leg. “We planned all of her winter fashions and decided how I could use my witchcraft to make them special. I can’t wait to get started.”

  “Great. Sounds like a good job for you.”

  “And I got a good vibe from her mother’s spirit. I’m pretty sure we connected.”

  He nodded. “That’s a big plus, especially since your magic is so different. Always good to have helpful spirits on your side. I’m still checking out possible spirit connections to what went down with that smoke trail at your new place. I’ve got a question for Shireen.” He grinned. “Hopefully, my bloodhound skills are as good as I think they are.”

  I wanted to ask him more, but Shireen hung up and called to us. “Vika said to quarantine Tiber until we get to the bottom of this. I just hope I can track him down. The last time I sent him out, he pouted and didn’t come back for three days.” She ran a hand through her hair and faced Logan. “Can you take Aggie to Vika’s while I search? She wants to apply a poultice—thinks that’ll do the trick since it just happened.”

  “Absolutely. Happy to help.”

  “Good. Oh—” She squatted low and ran her palm across his pant leg. She removed her hand, and the stain had vanished.

  “Awesome.” He moved beside me. “One quick question, Shireen, before we go. Cerise’s family was able to hire your ma to sew for the women in their family. Do you happen to know their maiden names?”

  “Why not ask Cerise?” I glanced sideways at him as he offered me his arm. My thoughts were spinning, and I couldn’t guess what he intended.

  Shireen helped him get me onto my feet and out the door.

  “Just a hunch about what I think may have happened with Dulcie the other night. I don’t want to worry Cerise.”

  “I was just a kid when Cerise’s parents married.” Shireen paused to push the door open. “I know Ma made the wedding dress. I’ll look in the shop register and get back with you. Aggie, if you don’t feel up to being here Monday, just give me a call. I’ll understand.”

  When I landed after the next hop, I waited for the jarring pain to lessen and said through gritted teeth, “I’ll be here. You can count on me. We have work to do.”

  Shireen patted my shoulder. “I’ll get busy making up that challis into a few blouses for you. There’s plenty for several, along with the dress you’re wantin’.”

  I shot her a weak smile and leaned my head against the bench seat as Logan closed the passenger door of his car.

  “Want me to fasten your seatbelt?” he asked.

  I waved him off, somewhat regretting my decision when I yanked on the belt. The twisting motion shot a throb of pain through my injured leg.

  Soon after he pulled out, I understood why the seatbelt was needed. Although my vision blurred and kept me from picking out sights along the route, I felt his high speed pulling me on the turns.

  “Are you okay?” His voice was tense, and he covered my hand with his.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m having trouble seeing. Everything’s getting dark and blurry.”

  By the time the car stopped, the world had gone black. Unable to see, too exhausted to use my haptics, and feeling more ill every minute, I panicked and shook uncontrollably. I slumped into him as he carried me up a series of steps and laid me on a soft surface.

  Chapter Six: The Draw

  Sharp pain ricocheted inside my skull. Sweat trickled into my eyes and stung as I strained to see shadowy images moving over me.

  A cool hand touched my aching forehead. The soft, drawling voice of an elderly woman spoke near my face. “You’re burning up, child. Shireen called and told me what happened with her familiar.”

  I swallowed against tightness in my throat and uttered a garbled reply, “Viikkka?” I reached toward her outline.

  She clutched my hand in her own, which was covered with velvety skin soft as her voice. “Yes, dear. It’s me, Vika.”

  “Vika and Jancie are both here.” Logan’s warm tone reassured me. “Vika’s our best earth witch, and Jancie’s a good healer. Anyone know where Rowe’s at?” he asked the others.

  “I called him. He said he’s on his way.” A clear female voice conveyed confidence. A warm hand rested on my shoulder. “Aggie, it’s Jancie.”

  I gave a nod and a slight smile, glad a New Wish witch was with me.

  “Let’s have a look at that leg bite,” Jancie said.

  Their shapes moved down to my feet.

  “Looks like you’ve got some scratches on your hand, too. Was that from the same cat?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I rubbed the scrapes, now puffed into pronounced ridges, but had no sense of touch in the area. “I don’t have any feeling there.”

  “Let me have a look.” She lifted my arm. “You feel anything along here?”

  “Movement at my shoulder. That’s all.” My words croaked through thick mucus in my throat, and I coughed. “Can I have some cold water?”

  “I’ll get some,” Logan replied.

  “Aggie, what about here?” Vika asked. “Do you feel this?”

  I shook my head.

  “Now?”

  “No.” I strained to lift my head, attempting unsuccessfully to see what she was doing. “There, in my thigh, I feel you pressing.”

  “Here you go, Aggie,” Jancie said close to my face. “A glass of water with a straw.”

  I found the straw with my lips, and enjoyed several slow sips, letting the coolness ease my throat. “Ah. That helps. My throat’s on fire.”

  “So’s your lower leg and hand,” Vika said with a lower, clipped tone. “From what you did at the coven party, I’d say you’re a sun witch. Is that true?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Should I get some ice?” Logan offere
d.

  “Yes.” Vika gave a quick reply. “That’ll do to treat the symptoms.” As footsteps sounded, her voice raised. “And bring the salt canister, some small plastic bags, a few rags, a bowl of water, and a fever thermometer. Get Siddie to show you where things are.”

  I heard Logan’s muffled voice in the background answered by a low growling noise.

  Jancie offered me the straw again. “Her sun energy’s fighting the foreign magic of the bite, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is, and hard.” Vika’s voice moved near my face and took hold of my good hand. “Aggie, you’re a powerful sun witch and could burn yourself up in this battle. We’re not gonna let that happen.”

  I absently grunted something unintelligible, and tried to sort out what was happening to my body. A sick fog blurred my thoughts, except one—fear.

  “What sort of power does Shireen have?” Jancie asked. “That’s the only magic her familiar could use, right?”

  “Shireen’s a creationist. Her inherited powers are a lot like her grandma’s,” Vika replied. “She can add her power to things she makes, but for whatever reason or outcome, I’m not sure.”

  “Isn’t that like the animating that Rowe does?” Logan asked. “Adding power to inanimate objects?”

  “Sounds like it,” Jancie said. “I’d like to know more about creationist magic before we treat the bites. I’m hoping Rowe can explain. Aggie, open your mouth a bit for this thermometer.”

  I accepted the glass rod under my tongue.

  Ice cubes clinked, and a lumpy bag wrapped in cloth pressed onto my forehead. The coolness began easing my brain fog and my headache dulled to a throb.

  “Logan, hold this in place on her head,” Vika ordered as she moved to my feet, where I heard water falling. “No ice on the bites. Let her fight it out there. Jancie, as soon as you read her temperature, come help me with the salt drawing.”