Fatal Charm

by Linda Joy Singleton

  I scooted in a chair next to Thorn then looked around at the rest of the group. I counted nine. Thorn and I were the only under-fifties, then five women including Nona and Velvet, plus two men. I recognized one of the men, a grizzled old bear named Grady who regularly played cards with my grandmother. I didn’t know the others; most of them dressed like they were attending a PTA meeting. Only Thorn and a woman with stunning puffed silver hair had the exaggerated jewelry and makeup befitting a séance. While I admired their boldness, I was glad I’d gone with a more subtle look. I preferred to blend in, not stand out.

  Candle trails swirled in subtle breezes from beneath doors and through small gaps in closed windows. My skin tingled with anticipation as I watched Velvet sit in the head chair and open a purple satin bag. She withdrew several polished stones, smoothed them between her palms, and murmured something no one could hear. Her pale skin glowed amber in the candlelight.

  “A few of you are new, so I’ll go over the rules,” Velvet began. “First of all, please turn off any cell phones. And if anyone has to use the loo … I mean, the bathroom, please attend to that now.”

  Everyone looked around, but no one made a move.

  “Splendid. Now we can proceed.”

  My heart quickened. I leaned forward so I wouldn’t miss a word.

  “There are a variety of methods for contacting the Other World: meditation, prayer, channeling, dreams, astral projection, and séance. Tonight, we have chosen séance. We shall call forth and invite a spirit within our circle.”

  I nodded and saw that everyone else was nodding, too.

  “Our chairs are arranged to represent the circle of life,” Velvet continued, “and although hand-holding can help focus, it can get tiring and sweaty. So we’ll skip that old cliché. I’ve arranged flowers and candles around the room since spirits are attracted to light and fresh flowers. We will begin with a prayer for protection and an invitation to positive spirits. Please close your eyes.”

  With eyes shut, I joined the sea of energy floating with Velvet’s words of reverence and gratitude. Peace settled over me like a loving caress.

  “Take a deep breath and visualize a white light around the room. Usually we would invite any spirits with messages for each participant, but tonight we are united in the urgent purpose of contacting my dear friend Nona’s great-great-grandmother, Agnes. You may keep your eyes open or closed, whatever you prefer, as we call upon the spirit of Agnes Jane Walker.”

  I’d seen an old black-and-white photograph of Agnes taken shortly before her death, surrounded by her four young daughters, so it was easy to envision her. I saw her gentle smile and braided hair in the photo. She was psychic, either the first in our family or a continuation of something that started centuries ago. Like her, I had a dark streak in my light hair—the mark of a seer.

  Breathing deeply, I was keenly aware of smells around the room as Velvet summoned Agnes: acrid candles, flowers, perfume, and sweet chocolates. Shoes shuffled on hard wood and chairs creaked as several people leaned closer with expectation. Energy heightened and my pulse raced.

  I could sense something coming.

  “A spirit is with us,” Velvet spoke with gentle invitation. “This young female spirit seeks her mother.”

  Heads jerked up and everyone looked around curiously. I couldn’t see anything solid, but felt a cool chill and tickling sense of touch—as if something without form glided over my skin. Thorn must have felt it too, because she reached for my hand and grasped tightly. She’d never admit to fear, but she’d once confided that ghosts made her uneasy. In theory, she accepted them. But up close and in person, she’d avoided meeting them. Attending this séance was a big step for her.

  “The spirit has short, curly dark hair and holds out a toy,” Velvet spoke in a flat, monotone voice. “It’s a stuffed animal … missing an ear … yellow with spots.”

  There was a sob from across the circle, and the women with frosty silver hair gasped. “Carrie’s giraffe! She named it Dotti and we buried it with … ohmygod!” Her hands fluttered to her face. “Carrie, baby?”

  Candlelight illuminated the surprise on the faces around the room, but Velvet stayed focused ahead and spoke calmly. “Gretchen, is Carrie your daughter?”

  “She was … ” The silver-haired woman collapsed in her chair, not falling over, but sort of sinking into herself. “She was only two … but it’s been over twenty years … Carrie? Are you really here?”

  “She’s smiling and nodding at you,” Velvet said.

  “I never expected … in all the years of hoping to hear from her … finally it’s happened. What’s her message? Is she all right?”

  “She says someone named Margaret is with her.”

  “My mother.” Gretchen brushed her damp cheek. “I hoped they’d find each other.”

  “They have and they’re both happy. They send their love.” Velvet paused and the room grew warm. The sense of a presence was gone.

  Velvet said a few comforting words to Gretchen, then called out to Agnes again, and I bit my lower lip anxiously.

  For a few moments, we sat quietly in our serene circle. I concentrated hard on Agnes, imploring her to come here. I knew others were doing the same thing—but the next spirit that came through definitely wasn’t Agnes.

  It wasn’t even human.

  “Cap! You sly dog!” Grady exclaimed—and he meant this literally.

  Velvet described a shaggy giant of a dog. Captain, nicknamed Cap, was a loveable, big black dog that had belonged to Grady. When I closed my eyes, I could even see a faint foggy outline of shiny, yellow-black eyes and a wet, red tongue that slurped Grady’s face. Grady must have felt something too because he said his face tickled.

  It was hard to settle down after that. To be honest, I was losing hope. I knew that not all spirits were able to come through. Some weren’t interested in earthly planes while others had gone on to other existences. When I glanced over at Nona, I knew she was discouraged, too.

  Fortunately, Velvet didn’t give up so easily. Once again she whispered a prayer, invoked a white protective light, and asked us to concentrate on calling forth Agnes.

  Immediately, the air swirled with a breeze so chilly it made my bones ache. Thorn shivered and squeezed my hand tighter. The wind carried an odd odor of cigars and cinnamon, blowing through the room with swift force that snuffed out three candles. Gasps echoed, but Velvet urged for quiet.

  “Agnes, is that you?” Velvet called out.

  Silence … then the wind whooshed as if something invisible exhaled.

  I peered around for a hint of a spirit, yet saw only my eight companions and their excited expressions. So I closed my eyes for a better look—and saw him.

  A wavy figure of a man wore a bright orange tunic over bell-bottom jeans decorated with embroidered rainbows, hearts, and flowers. His dark-blond ponytail trailed down to his midback. He had a nice, almost handsome, face with a nose a bit too long but blue eyes that seemed to laugh in good humor.

  I’d never seen this hippie and didn’t care what he had to say, so I looked away and tuned out Velvet. Where was Agnes? Why wasn’t she showing up? Didn’t she care about her own great-great-granddaughter? Obviously the answer was no. She wasn’t going to come through and instead we got a little girl, a dog, and a hippie.

  The séance was a failure.

  So I wasn’t paying much attention when Velvet called out the hippie-spirit’s message—not until she spoke my name.

  “Huh?” I blinked, opening my eyes to look at Velvet.

  “Douglas is asking for you.”

  “Me?” I scrunched my brow, shaking my head. “Douglas who?”

  “He didn’t give his last name.”

  “Well, I don’t know anyone named Douglas. And I’ve never seen this hippie before.”

  Velvet was quiet, nodding as if she was listening to a voice no one else could hear. Then she turned back to me. “Douglas asks you to take care of your sister … there is some sort of
danger.”

  “My sister!” I choked out.

  “He’s showing me a rag doll with red hair. Oh dear—there’s a knife through the doll’s heart. That can’t be good. Are you sure you don’t recognize him?”

  “Totally.”

  “Well he seems to know you. He keeps saying ‘sister’ over and over. He’s afraid she’ll be hurt and asks you to protect her.”

  This made no sense at all. I didn’t know this spirit. I couldn’t even hear him and only had that one psychic glimpse of him. Why did a stranger want to talk with me? And what was his connection with my sisters?

  I could hardly think clearly, my heart thumped so wildly. I could sense the spirit fading, though, which made me desperate to know more.

  “Ask him what danger!” I cried to Velvet. “And which sister?”

  Velvet nodded, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she stared at me with the oddest expression of confusion and worry.

  “Well, tell me! Which sister is in danger?” I demanded. “Amy or Ashley?”

  “Neither,” she said with a look of puzzlement. “Who is Jade?”

  Who was Douglas and why had he come through to me?

  How could a spirit I’d never met on either side know my connection to Jade? Did spirits astral-eavesdrop on private conversations?

  Of course I didn’t believe this, but I didn’t know what to think. Was Douglas an ancestor or spirit guide of Jade’s? Why ask me to help her? Sharing blood ties with Jade didn’t equal a relationship. I hadn’t even known about her until a few days ago. Yet this spirit wanted me to protect her?

  Utter insanity!

  I had no idea how to answer Velvet. I couldn’t just blurt out that Jade was my half-sister without breaking my promise to Dad. Besides I didn’t want to talk trash about him. Sure, he’d made some mistakes, but it was all out of love and he’d always been a great father. I had to cover for him—even if it meant lying to my grandmother and friends.

  Damn Jade anyway! I wanted to forget all about her—but how could I when she was complicating my life from the other side?

  Thorn had let go of my hand and was tilting her crimson-black head to give me a questioning look. She wasn’t the only one. A circle of curious faces stared at me.

  “I—I don’t know anything about Douglas,” I finally admitted truthfully.

  This wasn’t really a lie. I had no idea why a spirit I didn’t know asked me to protect the half-sister I didn’t want to know. What kind of help would Jade possibly need? If her crowded driveway was any indication, she had plenty of family and friends. And let’s not forget my—her— our father. If she was in trouble, all she had to do was flip her little cell phone in Dad’s direction and he’d come running with open checkbook.

  “It’s all right, Sabine,” Velvet said with a sympathetic expression. “Some messages aren’t for now, but are for future reference. Someday this will make sense to you.”

  I nodded, pretending to agree.

  Velvet smiled around the room. “Now let’s return to contacting Agnes.”

  I exhaled in relief as gazes shifted away from me and back to Velvet. In a united circle, we concentrated once again on summoning Agnes. Only I had trouble focusing, unable to stop thinking about what Douglas had said.

  A rag doll with a knife through its heart? Was it a symbol rather than a literal warning about knives or rag dolls? The knife might represent an end of a relationship and the rag doll could mean vulnerability. Maybe Jade was breaking up with her boyfriend or someone was going to break her heart.

  Another thought jumped in my mind. Did the warning have anything to do with the guy with handcuffs? He wasn’t wearing a uniform like a police officer or security guard. And he’d given me an uneasy feeling; a sense of something wrong that I couldn’t define.

  Not my problem, I reminded myself. Whatever problems Jade had were not my business. I wasn’t going to get involved.

  With fierce resolve, I forced my concentration back to the séance, cleansing my mind by envisioning a waterfall flowing over my thoughts. Agnes was the only spirit I wanted to see.

  The room echoed with a silence so thick it was hard to breathe. Candle smoke swirled above the table like a spectral audience, and no one moved. All I could hear was the faint ticking of a watch and my own tap-tapping heartbeat. I closed my eyes and sent out a plea to Agnes.

  Come to us now and help my grandmother. We’re your family—your granddaughters—and we need your wisdom. You left the charms to protect and lead to the remedy because you must have known your descendents would need it someday. And you were right; we desperately need the cure for Nona. Please come to us—

  I sensed something … not a presence so much as a palpable shift in the energy. The temperature dropped, and I wasn’t the only one who shivered. The same negative aura I’d felt earlier in the parking lot gripped me. Someone—or something—hateful was nearby, seething with icy rage and coming closer …

  Crashes exploded from outside the room. The floor trembled, walls shook, and windows rattled. Breaking glass cracked like sharp thunder. Mayhem erupted around me, shouts mingling with screams.

  “What was that?”

  “Oh my God! Earthquake!”

  “We’ve been bombed!”

  “It came from my candy shop!” Velvet jumped up so swiftly her chair toppled backwards to the floor, knocking into a table and causing a candle to teeter dangerously. She paused only a second to steady the candle before breaking into a run. The circle split and ran, too.

  Since I was closest to the door, I found myself in the lead, racing down the hall, through the mystical sales room, and into the candy shop—where I gaped in horror.

  The room was swathed in shadows and an eerie glow from outside streetlights. My hands flew to my face as I fought through my shock. Utter devastation. A demonic force had smashed through the sweet shop, tossing chairs aside and smashing display cases. Shattered glass and candy debris littered the floor. Glass crunched under my feet and I lost my balance, stumbling over something long and wooden lying among glittery shards.

  Steadying myself, I looked down to see what I’d tripped over.

  A baseball bat—studded with glass shrapnel as if the windows and display cases had fought back against brutal blows. Candy guts in gooey rainbow hues stained the wood like sweetened blood.

  I flashed back to the first time I’d walked into the candy stop. It had been magical, like stepping into a beautiful anime cartoon come to life. Or the fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel, only the witch was good and kind and spoke with a lilting English accent.

  Only now … the terrible destruction was sickening.

  I couldn’t bear to look, and turned away.

  That’s when I glanced out a window and saw a quicksilver movement. A lanky scarecrow figure ran from the store and into the parking lot.

  The vandal! I thought angrily. The brutal candy killer is getting away!

  “No, he isn’t!” I yanked open the door and raced down the steps. “Stop!”

  Cold night air sucked at my breath as I ran without thinking, chasing after the vandal who seemed freakishly tall and kept his face hidden in a hooded jacket. He dodged around parked cars, jumped over curbs, and disappeared.

  Frustrated, I started to leave when shadows shifted and there he was—running to the same white car I’d noticed earlier. The long, black hooded jacket with red lining flared out behind him like a devil’s tail. He paused and the wind whipped at his hood, revealing cropped hair as silvery as moonlight. Despite his gray hair, he moved like someone close to my age. With surprising grace, he sprinted forward to fling open a car door. A light flared in the dark—an interior car light—and in that flash I glimpsed a sharp-featured face with thick dark brows, a straight nose, and a cocky smirk.

  The car lights died to darkness and the engine roared to life, twin headlights glowing like evil eyes. I watched the ghost-eyed blur speed away.

  “Someone stop him!” I shouted.

  But
no one had followed me, so I took off after the car, plunging through the parking lot and out to the darkened street. My chest ached and my legs couldn’t move fast enough. It was no use. The car zipped around a corner, gone.

  I swore under my breath. He’d gotten away, and I hadn’t looked at the license plate and had only gotten that brief look at him. Feeling like a failure, I slowly walked back inside the candy shop.

  The circle of people that had only a short while ago been united in a mystic goal now huddled in sadness. While no one had been hurt physically, the brutal act of vandalism felt like a personal attack. And we all reeled from the aura of violence. In full lights, the damage was even worse. Overturned chairs, smashed displays, shattered figurines, and sweet chocolate corpses buried under shards of glass.

  “Bloody hell!” Velvet’s voice seemed cracked, too, like brittle glass. “Who could have done this?”

  “It’s horrible!” Nona cried.

  “Why my shop? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

  “Nothing but make people happy with your wonderful chocolate,” Grady said as he came up to put a comforting arm around Velvet’s shaking shoulders. His voice was gravely and his hands gnarled with age, yet his gentle gaze was full of concern. “I’ve already called the police. Make sure no one touches that bat. If there are any fingerprints, we’ll get the brute that did this.”

  I was gasping for breath after running. “I saw him!” I exclaimed.

  Heads swiveled in my direction.

  “You did!” Velvet exclaimed.

  “Where?” Grady’s heavy brows narrowed.

  “Out there! He was running … got in a car!” I pointed out the door I’d left open. “A tall man … but he drove away.”

  “Did you recognize him?” Velvet asked eagerly, coming beside me.

  “No.”

  “What’d he look like?”

  “I didn’t see him clearly. He had gray hair, only his face looked young. It was hard to tell since he was hidden in an long, hooded jacket. He ran so fast, like an athlete. I chased after him, but I couldn’t catch up … and he drove away.”