A Charmed Death

by Madelyn Alt

  My evening plans were tragically interrupted—Magnum had been preempted by a college basketball game. Now, I know it’s the state sport, but it gets pretty bad when it’s the topic of conversation on everyone’s lips, men and women alike, not to mention in every newspaper and on every news broadcast. Enough is enough.

  And the romance novel I’d borrowed from the library left a lot to be desired.

  The topping on the cake was the message on my machine. It turned out to be from my sister, Melanie, whose perfect life left a lot to be desired in mine. “Hey, sis, it’s me, Mel. Did Mom tell you the news? Greg made partner! And it’s about time, too, I say. After all that he’s done for the place, it should have happened years ago. But at least they’ve corrected their oversight now and are willing to make up for past mistakes. They’re sending us on a trip to Hawaii! All expenses paid. Can you believe it? Of course, this means I might need your help in watching the girls. Mom can’t do it all, and I know you won’t mind, since this is such a special occasion and you have no real ties of any kind. Thanks, Mags! I’ll let you know the dates as soon as I have them. ’Kay, well, gotta run. There’s a sale on at Sugarland Crossing, and I’ve got swimsuits to buy! Talk to you later!”

  I was not going to obsess. I was not going to waste time wishing I had even a quarter of her good luck.

  Instead, I sat there, calmly chewing my canned ravioli until I no longer felt like the poor relation. There were times, though, when I wondered whether Marshall had had the right idea after all. My older brother had left the house for college upon graduation from high school and had never looked back, except for holiday breaks and summer vacations. And after his second year, business internships came into play, which meant summer vacation had been eliminated as well. He didn’t have to deal with the day-to-day minutia of living a hop, skip, and a jump from a family that liked to be involved in his every thought. He wasn’t stuck having Mom organize his life every time he turned around. Hell, he didn’t even have to answer the phone if he didn’t want to. He was leading the quintessential bachelor life. I could learn something from him.

  With dinner over and evening monotony stretching ahead of me, it was natural that my mind began to wander. I picked up the copy of the blog that Marcus had printed for me and flipped through the stack of pages, but I couldn’t bring myself to read through more of Amanda’s sexcapades tonight, no matter how much it needed to be done. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be soon enough for me to read the whole sordid lot of it in its entirety before handing it over to the police. Maybe by the time Marcus broke the password (Or was there more than one? One for each file?), there would be even more information to give them. Or was that too much to hope for? I should have asked Marcus how long he thought it might take. Marcus was a guru, but realistically speaking, it seemed to me that it could take days.

  If only there was something that could help things to go faster.

  Sighing, I went to my bedroom, pulled off my boots, wriggled out of my clothes, then stood staring impassively into my closet. Normally I would have pulled out a pair of sleep pants, a camisole tee, and my fluffy robe and bunny slippers, but something held me back tonight. I sat on the edge of my bed, held in place by a burgeoning feeling inside me that seemed to be trying to tell me something. But what?

  Close your eyes . . . breathe deeply . . . find your center . . .

  What do you feel?

  Eyes closed and moving on autopilot, I grabbed a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and a pair of tennies and began to dress again. As I pulled on the shoes, I began to understand that I was supposed to go back to Enchantments. Why, I didn’t really know, but I knew it would come to me by the time I got there.

  The store wasn’t dark, as I had expected it to be. Liss was still there. I saw the lights in the upstairs loft as I pulled up even before I saw the low-slung black Lexus brooding in its usual parking space. Things clicked into place like the inner workings of a lock under the magic fingers of a master locksmith. I was looking for something, anything, to give us an edge in making the investigation process move a little faster. I was willing to suspend my supernatural skittishness enough to try just about anything. Maybe a finding spell, to aid the police in their quest for information on the assassin. Or maybe there were crystals Marcus could use while trying to break Amanda’s passwords to help him make the necessary connections. At the very least, Liss would know what was possible.

  I let myself in the back door and headed through the dimly lit storefront toward the stairs. “Liss? Are you up there?” I called.

  Liss popped her head over the stair rail. “Is that you, Maggie? Come on up!”

  “Are you sure? Is it okay?” A moment of uneasiness made me cautious. Liss in the loft alone, on a dark winter’s night, almost certainly meant one thing: She was practicing, and I didn’t mean practicing for karaoke night at the Little Nipper Tavern. I was okay with what I had witnessed in her presence, but thus far that had been limited to the friendship and protection circles we participated in on N.I.G.H.T.S. extravaganzas. Nothing sinister in that.

  Nothing sinister in any of it. I knew Liss too well to worry that she might be involved in anything dark. It just wasn’t her style. My only defense for my chariness was the strangeness I had felt in the air last night at the cemetery. Swirling currents of energy, and though I was far from expert in matters of the supernatural, it didn’t feel all . . . good. In fact, some of it felt downright threatening. I’d have to be a lot more certain of my ability to fend off negative energies before I’d feel more at ease.

  “What I mean is,” I amended before she was able to sense my uncertainty, “are you sure I’m not interrupting anything . . . important?”

  Her tinkling laugh could have broken any dark spell. “Of course not. You’re a welcome distraction in anything I do. Come on, then.”

  I started up the stairs. “If you’re sure . . .”

  “Really, Maggie, you’d think you were afraid of me.”

  I shut my mouth and mentally tried to push the wariness from me. Liss was too psychic for her own good, and the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt her feelings. “Of course I’m not. I just didn’t want to intrude, that’s all,” I told her as I rounded the bend to the landing. “Sometimes people just want to be alone, even if they pretend otherwise to spare your feelings.”

  “Since when have you known me to not speak my mind?”

  Hmm. Good point.

  The loft glowed with the soft golden lighting of upward of twenty candles on various stands situated around the open space. It was a large room that spanned the entire length and breadth of the storefront below. One end was crammed with tall bookshelves, back-to-back library style, filled to overflowing with books on every arcane subject imaginable. Along the sides of the room stood a goodly number of glass cabinets which housed crystals and jewelry, mostly of Celtic design. Still more cupboards held the witchy herbs that didn’t quite fit in with the mainstream bulk herbs we sold downstairs in the giant apothecary cupboard. Most people just didn’t expect to find mugwort and belladonna next to their cinnamon and cloves. Better to keep them separate than to raise the eyebrows of those who might object to finding pagans and witches living in their own backyard.

  Liss stood before an altar stand in the center of the large circular braided rug, her arms raised inaVof reverence to the moon, just visible through the skylights high above us. Mesmerized by the sight, I slid onto a low bench that stood against the gallery rail, unwilling to break the ribbon of energy that I knew surrounded the circle. Liss in mid-ritual was a sight to behold. I literally couldn’t take my eyes off her. Even at an indeterminate age, with her auburn hair streaked liberally with silver, her alabaster skin remained smooth and for the most part unlined, and her eyes glowed with life. No, it was more than her eyes. The very room vibrated with it the moment she walked through the door. Liss was the most alive person I’d ever known, and people flocked to her like a moth to a flame. Me, included. Whatever elixir she’d found through her
religious practices and unique approach to life had given her an internal peace that was extended to whomever she came into contact with, and it was addictive. Had I really been afraid to come up only moments ago? At that moment, I never wanted to leave.

  In her blue silk ritual robe and silver bracelets, Liss conducted her ritual with the serenity and passion of a Dianic devotee from long ago. On her forehead, just below the hairline, she wore a circlet I’d never seen before, cast in silver, the crescent moon at its center tipped up so that the crescent became the horns of a steer. The circlet only served to accentuate the otherworldliness of her appearance.

  As the ritual went on, I recognized it from my reading as a personalized self-blessing and dedication to the divine spirit she thought of as the Goddess. When it was done, Liss solemnly released the energy to the heavens and reopened the circle. Taking a moment to compose herself, she knelt to ground the remnants of energy, then turned to me with a smile.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Drat her intuition. Sheepishly I put down the purse I’d been clutching to my breast and said, “It was lovely. It’s obvious you take great joy in your beliefs.”

  “If one’s beliefs are not a balm to one’s soul, why should one waste one’s time?”

  From anyone else’s lips those might have been fightin’ words, but from Liss it just sounded like calm, cool reason.

  “So?” At my inquiring glance, she cocked her head. “Why did you come? I assume you aren’t here simply to witness my rededication to the Goddess.”

  “No. No, I guess I’m not.”

  “Why then?”

  “I’m not sure. Something told me to come here. Crazy, huh?”

  Her laugh tinkled in the air. “Maggie. After everything I’ve told you, I’m going to think you’re crazy for having feelings?”

  “Hmm. Well, I guess you’re right. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to listen to those little nudges and hints. So touché to you.”

  “And what are the nudges and hints telling you tonight?”

  “That there might be something witchy that can be done to help in the quest for finding the person responsible for Amanda Roberson’s death. Got any ideas?”

  “Hmm.” A glint in her eye, Liss leapt to her feet and ran over to a cupboard. She unlocked it and withdrew from its depths a battered, leather-bound book the size of a business portfolio. She dragged its sizable portions with her and plopped back down on the floor with it as though she were a teenage girl about to share a glamour mag with her best friend. “Let me flip a moment. There’s something in here that might help.”

  “ ’Kay.” As she flipped, I made conversation. “So, what exactly is a rededication for?”

  “I haven’t been practicing much since Isabella died. Started feeling sorry for myself, I suppose. Wallowing in the regrets of a misspent lifetime, and all that. So with the moon still being full tonight, I decided to do a little ritual for myself, to thank the Lady for her patience and for her wisdom in giving me time to myself. Isabella, I think, would understand now. There’s no room for judgment in the spirit world. Just an assessment of whether a soul has learned the lessons it set out to learn and the preparation for life anew.”

  That swung far, far from the Christian viewpoint where the soul was judged after death, whereupon it was cast into the nether regions of hell or ascended into the realms of angels. “No fiery damnation?” I asked, curious. “No cotton candy clouds and plucking on harp strings?”

  She shrugged. “Death means different things to different people. But no, I don’t believe in that.”

  I was still a moment, thinking about that.

  “Did you know that the original meaning for the Hebrew word for sin meant ‘to miss one’s mark’?” Liss continued. “I believe that a person sets out to learn certain lessons in each lifetime they choose to inhabit. Failing to meet that objective because their soul resists the forces that drive the universe, that’s what gives you ‘sin,’ only not in the way most people believe. That meaning stems more from the minds of men, in my personal view. Men who desire power to wield over other men. Men who would cast human failings upon their God because they cannot conceive of what it means to be above that. To be a spirit of light.”

  “I’m not sure what I believe.” It was the first time I had admitted that to anyone. The first time I could say it without fear of reprisal. “I’ve not been sure for a while now. I’m really confused. Most of the time I just don’t want to think about it at all.”

  Liss reached over and patted my hand. “I think the important thing is that you allow yourself the time to discover what your God means to you, without the pressure or demands of outside forces. Listen to your own heart. You know the truth. It’s there inside you. Inside each of us. Waiting to be remembered.”

  I shivered at the mystical words that filled me with a tingle of energy. Of awareness.

  To distract myself, I told Liss, “Did I happen to mention the strange blog that was attached to the SunnyStonyMill website?”

  “Hmm, no, I don’t think so. Why? Was it anything interesting?”

  “I’ll say.” Briefly I related the discovery of the blog, and the connection Marcus and I had happened upon just that afternoon.

  “Maggie, that may just be the first real clue that’s come out since Amanda was found. Have you mentioned this to your police friend?”

  Feeling sheepish, I shook my head. “Not yet. I was hoping to be able to give him just a bit more at the same time.”

  “Ah.” She gave me a speculative glance. “To be helpful? Or to show him up?”

  I squirmed beneath her probing gaze. “You do see a lot, don’t you? To be completely honest, I suppose there is a part of me that wants to show him up. Just a little bit. A woman scorned, and all that. Crazy, I know, but I can’t seem to help it.”

  “Not crazy. Human. His rejection hurt you. Aha!” Liss cried out abruptly, pulling her hand back to hold the book open to the flickering light. “I knew it was in here. This is a finding spell to be used when an object has been purposely hidden or obscured. We could, of course, write our own and it could just as effective, but I’ve always trusted the wisdom of my ancestors and see no reason to stop now. We’ll just customize it, personalize it for this specific situation. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good. Do you think it will work?”

  “I’d bet my broomstick on it.”

  I opened my mouth as surprise washed over me.

  She winked. “Just joking. I would never bet my broomstick. How on earth would I get around town?”

  An hour later, we had something we both thought we could work with. I helped Liss collect the various bits of herbs and other components she would need to perform the spell ritual.

  “Would you like to assist?” Liss asked me.

  I hesitated. A part of me thought it would be cool, very cool, but another side of me wasn’t sure I was ready to actively participate in real magick. I also didn’t quite see how it fit into my Catholic upbringing. Technically speaking, it didn’t at all, and that was part of the problem.

  “If you’d prefer, you can just lend me your energy by being in circle.”

  Being in circle. I’d been in circle before. That I could do. “Sure.”

  We’d placed the components on a square silk scarf in the center of the braided rug, a pillow on each side of it. Liss motioned for me to take a seat on the velvet pillow across from her.

  She cast her circle in an instant, without words. I felt it the moment it closed around us and rose into a protective bubble over our heads. Quickly she summoned the four elements, earth, air, fire, and water, to attend the ritual, then immediately began assembling the spell components in order—rather like following the recipe from a cookbook, I observed. While she placed the items in a copper pot in the center of the silk cloth between us, I sat in a lotus position and closed my eyes, concentrating my entire being on finding my center. The soft darkness enveloped me, and
I embraced it, gratefully reaching for the elemental nothingness that made everything else disappear. Once, briefly, my thoughts meandered sideways in the abyss as I wondered what Tom would think if he could see me now, lost to the waves of power I didn’t entirely understand. My skin tingled. My nose itched. My scalp prickled. My mind locked on its target and held, until thought and body and spirit merged as one.

  Liss spoke the words we had written, once, twice, thrice. The energy swirling above our heads rose to a fever pitch.

  I felt her take me by the hands and lightning zipped up my arms. Though we were separated by a space of at least two feet, I could feel our breathing as it found a mutual pace, faster, faster. When it felt as though I could bear the buffeting of the energies no more, Liss threw our hands upward above our heads and released the power we had channeled back to the universe. Then we both sank to our cushions, our breath coming as giggles of release.

  “Wow,” I said, leaning back on my hands.

  Liss smiled tiredly at me. “Indeed.”

  We were silent a moment as we allowed our pulses to settle. I rolled my head against my shoulders to look over at her. “How do you think we did?”

  “I think it went brilliantly, ducks. You’ll see. Give it time. I think you’ll be speaking with your special police friend soon.”

  I looked up at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  A sly smile curved her lips. “Let’s just say I put in a little cosmic nudge in his direction. Think of it like ringing his doorbell.”

  “I didn’t want . . .” I started to deny, but the knowing glint never left her eyes. “Okay, so maybe I did, just a little.”

  “I could whip up a love spell for you,” she offered, the picture of well-meaning pseudo-maternal innocence. She was tired, but not too tired to take advantage of an opportune moment. “Nothing that would remove his free will, of course, that would go against the Rede, but perhaps a little something to open your heart and mind to the possibility of love.”

  What was it about women over the age of forty that made them want to pair up any unattached younger female within their circle of acquaintance. I had never really thought of my heart and mind as problem areas. “Thanks—really—but in love I think it’s probably better to let things happen on their own, if they’re of a mind to.”