Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  “Hi,” she said as she came into the room. “I can’t sleep. Can I stay in here tonight?”

  He yawned tiredly and stood to stretch. “Sure, I was coming to you.” He smiled at her, pushed back the comforter. “Climb in.” He pulled off his clothes and joined her.

  She lay down next to him, her head on his shoulder, and she listened to his quiet breaths, the steady beat of his heart. Soon the soft sounds of Brad sleeping came to her ears, and she smiled. She lifted up on an elbow, and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. She gazed into his worry free face, the soft crinkles around his eyes more visible than before. She leaned down and stole a soft kiss and he stirred, murmuring in his sleep before settling again. He was so serious when he was awake, but watching him sleep revealed another side. The years peeled away, and she could see the young boy reflected in the pictures.

  She lay back down, and finally sleep came.

  • • •

  Chelsea was so warm, so comfortable. She stretched languidly and her hands reached up over her head, twisting in the sheets. The sun beamed through a window, basking over her skin. It was only when she reached for the man who slept beside her that she sat up and wondered where she was.

  What had started out as warm, sensuous, almost too good to be true turned into something dark, treacherous. The warmth bled away and darkness smothered her, until a pitch black coldness greeted her. She clamped her hands over her ears as whispers filled them. She whimpered, fear crowding in around her. Where was she? Where was Brad?

  Her shaky fingers lifted from her ears and the sound became louder and stronger, a rage in her ears. Her eardrums felt near to rupturing. Her eyes widened, her lungs filled with air, and right before she started screaming, it dawned on her where she was — and it was exactly where she didn’t want to be. What had Rowena said? Just wake up and she’d escape? She opened her eyes, pinched her arm, screamed into the darkness, but she didn’t wake up. Or maybe she was awake, and this was her new reality. Then the laughter crawled across the flesh.

  She drew her knees up to her chin and rocked back and forth, watching and waiting, the comfort of the warm bed gone. The decibels of the whispering increased until it became a high pitched whine. It sounded angry, outraged, and she was afraid it would come closer. She waited for the first touch of icy cold fingers, the hands that were greedy for her warmth. Chelsea felt the souls drawn to her, those souls trapped in the Inbetween, waiting for the Watchman to light their way. Dread skittered through her body with the first tendrils of the icy fingertips.

  “Please, someone, help me!” she cried into the darkness. “Brad! Are you there?” There was no response. “Someone, please, I want to wake up,” she whispered, her hands shaking as she covered her face.

  A flame flickered, and the Watchman gasped his laugh before the flame hissed and suddenly went out. But it left only one glow in the darkness. Chelsea became the beacon. Chelsea became the light that glowed in the forever night.

  “I told you to stay away. I told you not to come. Now you have to pay.” It was the Watchman’s voice, wheezing in response. “They’re waiting for you now, girl.” He cackled wildly.

  She begged before the Watchman retreated. “Please, I didn’t mean to come here and don’t want to be here. Can’t you help me?”

  “No help for you now, girl. They’ve got you and they’ll keep you.” Only the moans of the lost souls could be heard, drowning out her sobbing.

  Again she screamed into the piercing darkness. “Someone help me!”

  “It won’t do you any good, you know.” A voice growled from the darkness, not the Watchman. It was deeper, darker, closer to her, and she flinched away. With the voice, the moans of those souls who had come to surround her drifted away. The touch of icy hands fled from her body. A horrible feeling of loss settled over her.

  “What are you?” she asked, terrified of the answer.

  “Not who are you, but what?” the growl mimicked, and a mirthless laugh followed. “I think you know.” The voice drew closer. “Come on, think, what’s your worst nightmare?”

  Chelsea squeezed her eyes tight, refusing to think of anything that would give this creature comfort. “What are you?” she repeated, calming herself, preparing to fight.

  “We’re the things in the dark, the things you dreaded the most when you were a child.” The voice caressed her with angry need. “Remember what scared you the most?” It slithered over her flesh, needing to feed, like a vampire from some old horror movie.

  Chelsea remembered the nightmares from her childhood, the ones that used to bring Teresa running to her room. She remembered the monster who lived in the dark.

  “That’s what you are,” she whispered as she scooted away, finding herself trapped in a corner she didn’t know was there.

  It laughed, and she covered her ears. “That’s right … you know where you are, what we are. Get ready to join the Nevernever.” A throaty laugh followed, and Chelsea felt the viciousness the sound revealed. “Now … you’re mine.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Why was this thing so desperate to possess her? Chelsea cringed away from those inhabiting the dark with her. She hid away her darkest fears, the demons from childhood, the monsters from her nightmares. She filled her thoughts with light and good, with the brand new memories of Brad. Her heart lifted. The way he touched her, the way he made her feel. It warmed her. She thought about her childhood, the happy memories, until heat flowed from her body. “You can’t take me, I’ll never be yours. I don’t belong here.” And she thought of Brad’s arms as they surrounded her, his lips as he tasted her. “You’ll never have me. I’ll be free.” She smiled triumphantly, hoping she was right.

  “It won’t do you any good.” The voice glided closer. She felt the first coiling touch of its icy hands. She smelled the putridness of its stinking breath. It had lived off the lost for too long. “Think whatever you what, be whatever you need. We’ll still have you … in the end.” Laughter filled the space to surround her, it licked across her flesh. A fiendish desire flared all around her. “And if we can’t have you, he’ll take you. He’s worse than your nightmares.”

  Chelsea struggled against the Nevernever’s grip, trying to pull her in. The only man in her life was Brad. Then the old farmer’s face drifted into her thoughts and new terror took hold. She fought it, let her desire for life flood through her.

  Another presence surrounded her, a warm caress and the velvety touch of Great-Granny’s wrinkled hand found its way into hers. “Remember what I told you, child. And what Rowena told you too. Remember, child, happiness will protect you. The dark things live off fear.”

  Suddenly, the darkness seemed a little brighter. Chelsea heard Great-Granny’s whispered threat. “Get back you bastard, you can’t have her.” And somehow, she felt the darkness take a step backward.

  Great-Granny’s loving touch lingered over her flesh like a breath of a sigh. Her fingers tightened around Chelsea’s own. “I won’t forget, Great-Granny.” She smiled and the hand vanished, but the presence stayed hovering over her, offering guidance.

  The warmth and comfort of Brad’s love flowed over her, replacing the sick feeling of loss that tried to steal her. Great-Granny’s touch remained near her, and Chelsea knew she was loved. Her lips curved in disdain. “You’ll never have me.”

  She screamed with everything in her heart, with everything that was good in her life. Until she felt the rough hands shaking her, heard the voice calling her name, smelled the spicy scent of male. When she opened her eyes, it was Brad that took possession of them. She was back in his bed. Tears wetted her cheeks and she pulled in Brad closer for a taste of his lips. She craved him with the every last fiber in her being. Her voice croaked, “You found me.”

  Brad shuddered as he gathered her body nearer until she was so close, she felt like a second skin. “I need to make
sure you’re real, to feel you, flesh to flesh.” He buried his face in the scent of her hair and stripped her of her lilac nightshirt, pulling her back to his chest. The warmth of his body began to replace the cold dread that had tried to take her.

  Brad had sworn to keep her safe, but how could he? Could he stop the things that wanted to drag her away?

  “You can’t keep letting them in,” Brad said, his voice hoarse. “You’ve got to try to stop them. You have to fight them. You’re stronger than they are. Always remember that.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms. “You’re the strongest person I know,” he whispered close to her ear. “Don’t let them take you.”

  She snuggled in closer, the heat of his body replacing her fear, and she knew he was right, but it still didn’t give her the answers she needed. She would have to visit with Rowena one more time. She only hoped the woman was strong enough to help her.

  • • •

  Grams drove while Chelsea watched from the window. She was too wound up to drive, to sit still, too nervous not to speak. “It was too horrible. It felt like death, like I’d lost everything important. And I thought maybe this time I had.” She trembled, seeing it all over again. “It doesn’t help having it on instant replay every time I close my eyes.” She’d told Grams about Great-Granny’s visit to her nightmare, about the Nevernever, how she’d prodded Chelsea to never give up, to never surrender. That if she hadn’t come … Chelsea shuddered … the darkness might have taken her.

  Grams reached across the seat, sharing her warmth with her touch. “It’s going to be okay, honey. It’s going to have to be. I wish Great-Granny were here to help guide your journey. She would know what to do, where to turn, whom to seek out.”

  They followed the twisting path back to the compound and Chelsea knocked on the same wooden door. It was opened by the mother of June Mary. “Can I help y’all?”

  Chelsea offered her hand. “Charlotte? I don’t know if you remember me but my grandmother and I stopped in the other day to talk to your mother.”

  “Oh sure. You’re that lady who’s going to help my June Mary. What can I do for you?” She leaned against the doorway and screwed up her eyebrows to watch them warily.

  “I was wondering how Rowena is today? Can I talk to her?”

  “Mama’s not very good today, had to give the kids a day off school. I might have to start teaching myself.”

  “Well, could you ask her if she’ll see us? It’s kind of important.” Chelsea twisted her hands together. This was her only choice, her only chance.

  “If she’s not asleep. I’m not waking her for anyone — she’s gotten weaker since you were here.” She grudgingly opened the door wider and allowed them into the house. “Wait here while I go check.”

  She disappeared into one of the doorways off the hall and returned quickly. “She says she’ll talk for a minute. But you mind to be careful of her. Don’t tire her out. She’s not feeling herself today.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Chelsea promised and Charlotte led them down the hall, easing the door open to reveal a shadow of the woman they’d visited a few days before.

  “Charlotte, come mere, help me sit up some.” Rowena motioned Chelsea closer. “Come on in here, I ain’t dead yet. Don’t look so scared. I’m not going to break, havin’ a bad day is all.” She motioned to the edge of the bed. “Plant yourself here.”

  Grams and Chelsea came further into the room. It smelled of disinfectant, and the distinct scent of death lurked in the corners. Chelsea smiled at Rowena and gingerly sat on the edge of her bed. Grams sat in the chair across from it.

  “You look really tired,” Chelsea said. “Maybe we should come back another time?”

  “Girl, let me help you while I can.”

  Chelsea sighed. “I got pulled back in again. At first it was the Inbetween, and I knew where I was, how to get out. I saw the waver of the candle’s flame. But then it changed, I think the dark things from the Nevernever interfered, tried to get a hold on me.” She shuddered. “They almost succeeded.”

  Rowena looked uncomfortable. “I told you they’d come for you. You have to be careful, now more than ever before. They know you, they want you.”

  “How do I keep them out? How do I stop them from entering my dreams?” Chelsea wrung her hands together.

  Rowena’s gloved hands found Chelsea’s, covering them with gentle strength. “If they’re coming in your dreams, you have to close them off. You have to make it harder for them to get in.” She shook Chelsea’s hands. “You have to focus, you hear? You have to focus.”

  “How do I do that? How can I make it harder for them?”

  “You listen to me, Chelsea Karmikel, and you do exactly what I say.” Rowena’s tired worn gaze found Chelsea’s eyes. “You have to make a mental wall between you and them. Impenetrable. If you don’t, they’ll take you. Maybe next time forever.”

  Rowena dropped Chelsea hands, panting for breath, exhaustion sweeping her features. “You … have … to … start a ritual.” Rowena eased back into the pillows, her face a shade grayer, but her breathing grew steadier. “There’s herbs you can use to help you fight. Most can be found around here, some you can buy. I’ll send one of the kids out to look. Call Charlotte for me, girl. I have a little bell, but the tinkling is awful.”

  Chelsea stood, and motioned to the woman standing nervously outside the room.

  “Yes, Mama?” Charlotte stepped in.

  “Go get Paul, send him out to look for some church steeple and windflowers, probably some in the fields behind the house.” Rowena coughed, and a red stain covered the tissue she brought to her lips. Charlotte rushed to bring her a glass of water. “Have June Mary cuts some balsam boughs and a patch of the sage, bring them here to me.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Charlotte’s eyes were worried, but she closed the bedroom door.

  “Paul’ll bring the plants. You take them home, dry them out, place them around your home, in all the rooms. If you need more, you’ll know what to look for. The church steeple will help prevent the darkness from taking hold. The windflowers are for luck, we can all use some luck.” Rowena smiled at Chelsea. “The balsam boughs you can bind together, hang over your doorways, front and back, put a sprig in your bedroom. Make the sage into a smudge stick, let its smoke touch the four corners of your home.” She took a pained breath and continued. “Two more things, and you should have these in your kitchen. Vanilla and basil. You can mix the two to make a sachet, put it close to your bed. If nothing else, it’ll make your sleep sweet.”

  Rowena glanced up at Chelsea. “All this will help, but you have to help too. You have to clear your mind, focus on the good, keep it in your heart. Put up a brick wall, make it the toughest stuff you can think of, and if you feel them, recite a nursery rhyme, something sweet from your childhood. It makes it harder on the bad — if it can’t get in, maybe it’ll give up.” Rowena smiled. “It’s the best you can hope for and all I can tell you.”

  Then Rowena pulled herself a little straighter, seeming to gather her waning strength, and peeled the gloves from her finely boned hands. She held out her elegantly shaped fingers to Chelsea. “Now, before you leave, let me see into your tomorrows.”

  Reluctantly, Chelsea reached out, and the electricity zinged from Rowena’s palms to hers. “Wow, does that happen with everyone?”

  Rowena drew a harsh breath. “No, not everyone, just the powerful ones. Girl, you got a lot power. You have to learn to use it and to trust yourself. Dig deep, it’s there waiting to be found.” Rowena griped Chelsea’s hands tighter, almost painfully, and her eyes glazed over. “There’s trials ahead for you. You’ve made a good match, he can help you, but you have to help him too. The future wants you, but the past calls too.”

  A fine sheen of sweat covered the woman’s brow, and she grimaced. “The bad wants you too, it’s so strong. I can
feel its draw, oh, it hurts, it wants you so bad. Wait! There’s someone else who desires you too. He wants your life. He’s been infected. Watch out for yourself and your love. He’ll try to take you both.”

  Rowena’s hands started to shake, her eyes remained hazy, unfocused. “You need to be careful, and if all else fails you, keep the truth in your heart. It’ll save you in the end. If you can’t, the dark might steal your light.” Rowena dropped Chelsea’s hands, falling back against her pillows, her breathing labored. “I’ve helped you all I can now, girl.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chelsea set about drying the herbs. “Kitty?” she called to Grendel. “These aren’t for you to chew. You leave these alone.” Grendel blinked up at her and slinked over to hide herself. Chelsea continued to bind the balsam branches, adding a little of the windflowers to make year-round wreaths, one for the back door and one for the front. Then she followed the rest of Rowena’s instructions, placing a short sprig of balsam in each of the bedrooms and burning the sage to all four corners.

  Grams found Chelsea in the kitchen. “I’ll fix supper tonight. Is Bradley coming back this evening?”

  “He said he’d be back, but probably not until late. I don’t know how long he’ll be able to keep this up. Driving back and forth, trying to work. He needs to be in Springfield.” She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it was true, and the truth was painful for both of them. She was keeping him from what he needed to do, and she didn’t feel good about it.

  • • •

  Chelsea sat waiting up for Brad in Teresa’s old room, which was becoming more and more his. His clothes hung in the closet, rested in the chest of drawers. His razor and toothbrush sat in the bathroom, waiting for his return, his spicy male scent clung to the sheets. Chelsea lifted the crisp fabric and inhaled his scent into her lungs. He still used her soap and shampoo, and she liked the way the scent filled her senses, his own unique maleness combining with the freshness of springtime. She’d never be able to rid her senses of the scent, nor did she want to.