by Ashlyn Chase
“We weren’t going to burden you with this, but Fayleen lost something. Something very important.”
“Hey,” Fayleen interjected. “It could have happened to anybody.”
Hanna held up her hand as if telling Fayleen to talk to it. “The thing is, Michele has some kind of natural affinity with that object. She touched it when she was very young and it was clear she was tied to it in some way.”
“Is anyone going to tell us what the object is?” Ethan asked.
Fayleen folded her arms. “I’m afraid that’s on a need-to-know basis.”
“Right now, we need Michele. Does anyone have any idea of where she might have gone?” asked Hanna
Celestia sighed. “I don’t know where she is, but I know why she left.”
“I don’t.” Fayleen said. “Enlighten me.”
“She was being stalked by a former coven member. One who went over to the dark side. His name is Donovan Grant, and he’s a powerful black magician now.”
“Shit,” Brigit mumbled. She glanced at Ethan.
He placed his hands on his hips. “I knew that guy was bad news from the get-go. We took Myranda’s classes together. All he wanted to learn was how to cast spells. He couldn’t have cared less about the spiritual aspect.”
Myranda nodded. “I don’t usually talk about my students, but in this case I can confirm the dark direction he took. He came into the shop looking for ingredients we don’t carry for good reasons. It was clear he was using forces no self-respecting Wiccan would mess with.”
Brigit could hardly believe what she was hearing. Myranda’s very first class was about the ethics of magic, the Witches Rede and rule of three. She was almost afraid to learn magic after the warnings. “And he was stalking her?”
“Still is as far as I know,” Celestia said. “She didn’t want to involve any of us, because she said anyone who knew where she was would be in danger.”
Brigit noticed Rebecca’s face had gone pale. “Are you all right, Bec? You look ill.”
“Huh? Oh, no. I’m fine. It’s just that—losing something so important, and then what Michele must be dealing with...”
“I’m sorry,” Hanna said. “I wish we had better news. Maybe this month’s spells will help. Is everyone ready?”
“I’d like to bring up one more thing before we start.” Ethan scratched his head.
“Of course,” Hanna said.
“I know we talked about this before, but I—I was wondering if the love spell that backfired last Midsummer Night affected anyone else? Sometimes it takes a while.”
Brigit raised her eyebrows. She tried to remember what his intention was that night. Something about finding willing women, or easy-going women? Or was it easy women? Uh oh. She remembered it was something about women—plural. At the time, she considered it a plus. She was still formulating her idea, and if he was dating but not committed elsewhere, she thought he’d be happy to plant the seed and go on his merry way. So, why did that thought upset her now?
“You’re saying you experienced some negative effects?” Hanna asked.
“Uh...not negative. Just complicated.”
Keith snorted. “Since when are relationships uncomplicated?” Then he gazed over at Brigit and a sly smile stole across his face—followed by a wink.
Ethan must have caught it. His scowl and icy stare could have frozen the Piscataqua River.
“Um...Let’s talk after the ritual,” Hanna said. She stared at Brigit.
What could she say? She didn’t know what was going through Ethan’s head. But boy, would she like to be a fly on the wall when they had their tete-a-tete.
* * * *
Velia held her head high and announced to her Stregheria boschetto members, “I know where the grail is.”
The rest of the coven gasped and some clutched their black cloaks over their hearts.
“You’d better not be toying with us,” Camella said.
“I would never do that.” Velia folded her arms and waited.
The other group members all began chattering at once. “Well, where is it?” “What is it?” “Is she talking about the holy grail from the crusades?”
Velia held up her hand. “First of all, it’s not The Holy Grail, but it dates back to the Middle Ages. It’s been irreverently dubbed the Unholy Grail by the Cabot witches, and they’re the last ones to have seen it.”
“How do you know this?” Aribelle asked.
Velia tipped her nose in the air even higher, if that were possible. “None of your business. Don’t make me regret sharing this with the entire boschetto and not saving the information for elders only.”
Camella’s eyes narrowed. “Why did you?”
“Because the Cabot witches lost it. The more of us looking for it, the better our chances of recovering it.”
There was more excited chatter.
“What does it look like?” Dalia asked, over the din.
Velia frowned, and everyone fell silent. “That’s the thing. We don’t know. The legend that was passed down to us is that a Medieval alchemist created it. We know it holds water. He didn’t want anyone drinking out of it accidentally, because it bestows supernatural powers on all who do, so he made it extremely ugly. He entrusted it to one of our Pagan ancestors. But someone stole it and gave it to the damn Cabot witches. It’s ours, and we must get it back!”
“Do you know how they lost it?” Camella asked.
“Only that one of the supernatural coven members was irresponsible and didn’t put it away properly after using it.”
“What supernatural coven?” Natalia asked.
“That’s for the elders to know and for you to become elders to find out.”
Some of the younger members pouted.
Camella cackled. “This is very good news, everyone. Their loss could be our gain.”
“And what a gain!” Velia added.
* * * *
Ethan had never hung out in Hanna’s suite after the coven left. It seemed much larger, although still quite cozy. The tasteful furnishings looked a little different too. Did she put away certain things only to have them reappear when everyone left?
He couldn’t see the bedroom, but he assumed there was only one. He knew where the bathroom was, and there was only one other door down the hall. In some ways, he wouldn’t have been surprised if another door or two appeared.
“Hanna, I need your thoughts before I do something that could change a friend’s life.”
“I think I know what you’re referring to and it would change more than that.”
“You do? Did Brigit talk to you?”
“No.”
She didn’t explain herself. Her powers sometimes impressed him and sometimes made him nervous. This was one of those latter times.
“What I wanted to talk to you about might have resulted from the botched love spell last Midsummer night.”
“Or not,” she said. “So far, I believe the spells were answered the way they were meant to be answered.”
“I may have asked for more than I could handle, then.”
“We always need to be careful what we wish for. Right?” She grinned.
He wasn’t in the mood for a vague sense of humor. “Okay. Here’s the thing. Brigit wants me to get her pregnant.”
Hanna didn’t blink.
“Did you know that?”
“Does it matter what I know?”
“Kind of. Can you predict the outcome? Should I do this?”
“Do you want to do it?” She chuckled. “I said ‘do it.’”
Oh, for the love of Beavis and Butthead. Now there were words he’d never dare say aloud.
“I’m torn and I need of your advice,” he said, assertively.
“I’d like to come right out and tell you what to do, but I don’t want you to blame me if something goes wrong.”
He leaned forward. “Goes wrong? What’s apt to go wrong?”
She rose and paced around his chair slowly. “At any point, in
any day, things can appear to go wrong. But is that really the case? If you follow the advice the Goddess gives you—I’m talking about the guidance from within, you’ll find things work out the way they’re meant to.
Let me put it in another way I think you’ll understand. The tides go in and out. You might want still water all the time, but that’s not how the earth works.”
“True.”
“You can’t just ‘go with the flow.’ Sometimes you have to adjust your direction to get where you need to go. Do you think the Goddess wants you to wait for hours until the tide turns before you get back to your mooring?”
“Probably not.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a Libra.”
“What does that mean?”
She chuckled. “If you don’t know by now, look it up. I’m not going to give you a lesson in astrology.”
“Okay, okay. I know what you mean. I want balance and harmony—all the time if possible. What’s wrong with that?”
“Only that you’ll never get what you want if those are your goals.”
“Shit.”
She smiled sympathetically. “The Great Rite isn’t something to be taken lightly. Sex magic can be very powerful. On the other hand, a great deal of power may be required to accomplish what you need to do.”
“This is something I need to do?”
“You always have free will.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“That’s all I can tell you.”
Crap. Ethan didn’t want to badger the powerful witch, and she seemed to have given him all the direction she was going to. “All right. I’ll keep your words in mind. Thanks for...your time.” He rose.
She laughed. “I give you my best advice and all you can thank me for is my time?”
“No. I didn’t mean that...”
She clapped him on the shoulder and guided him to the door.
“Don’t worry. If you don’t listen to the Goddess’s guidance, she’ll give you a nudge until you do.”
That gave him something to ponder. Maybe he just needed to look more closely for signs. The Goddess wasn’t one to send a telegram—at least not the normal way.
As he stepped off the elevator and entered the lobby, he spotted Keith and Brigit talking. They were standing a little too close together for his liking, and his hackles rose.
Ethan strode over to them and wrapped his arm around Brigit’s waist, protectively. “Hey, you two. Am I interrupting anything?”
“Wow. A couple of dates and you feel possessive already?” Keith asked. “That’s not like you.”
He glanced at Brigit. The look on her face could be interpreted as guilty fear. Or was it hopeful expectation? Either way, he had his nudge and knew he’d better act on it, before it was too late.
“Yeah, well, people change, Raven.” He looked down at Brigit softly. “Can I walk you to your car—when you’re finished with your conversation, that is.”
“Sure,” she said. “We’re finished now.” She smiled and looked relieved.
Keith smirked. “Message received. See you two at Samhain.”
“See you,” Brigit said.
Keith called over his shoulder, “You’re a lucky man, Aubrey.”
Ethan simply watched as the tall Cher impersonator left the building.
Chapter 5
“It’s late, and I know you need your sleep,” Brigit said. “But we should talk sometime soon.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did Keith offer you his sperm?”
Wanting to protect the harmony within the coven, Brigit tried to skirt the issue. “This has nothing to do with Keith.”
“Did. Keith. Offer. You. His. Sperm?”
“Wow. Possessive much? If he did, I’d have said no. It’s not him I want, Ethan.”
He seemed to relax. “Fine. That’s all I wanted to know.” He started to walk away, then halted and turned on his heel. “You’re not planning to sleep with anyone else while we’re doing this, are you?”
“Of course not. I told you, I want to be able to tell my child about his or her father. That means I have to know who he is.”
Ethan smiled. “Okay, good. I haven’t been with anyone else since you approached me about this. I think it’s only fair that it stays that way.”
She smiled back. “You really are a good man, Ethan Cox.”
“Don’t forget it,” he said and left.
Brigit breathed a sigh of relief. Keith had indeed offered to fulfill the terms of the contract. She wondered if he’d feel the same way if he knew the contract was bogus and she got taken by the lawyer who drafted it.
She wondered about hauling the guy into small claims court to recoup her $200.00, but she was more inclined to leave it as a lesson learned. Besides, when she tried to report him to the Better Business Bureau, they’d never heard of him. Damn, I have to bite the bullet and get a computer, so I can access the internet.
Brigit glanced up and saw Ethan waiting at the door.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
Oh, that’s right. He was going to walk me to my car. She met him at the door, which he opened for her.
“You looked pensive back there. Is everything all right?”
She chuckled. “Yeah. Is it possible to have pregnancy brain before you even get pregnant?”
He laughed. “I don’t think so. Is that a thing? Pregnancy brain?”
She sighed. “My sister used that excuse a few times.”
“What does it mean?”
“She’d forget to call after saying she would. I got a package in the mail that was meant for my brother and he got mine. Stupid little things like that.”
He smirked. “Is that what I have to look forward to?”
She stopped and faced him. “You don’t have to go through any of that with me. Consider it another advantage of not getting involved.”
He looked at the night sky and blew out a long breath. The chilly evening created a stream of fog, and she hoped his frustrations were on that cloud, leaving his body. Eventually he started walking again.
“Where’s your car?”
“In the underground garage. I’ll be fine from here if you want to take off.”
He didn’t answer. He just kept walking toward the garage entrance, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground ahead of him.
When they reached her car, she said. “I’m here,” and dug around in her purse for her keys.
He waited beside the dented door of her white minivan. After a few frantic moments, she located her keys and pulled them out. “Whew!”
“Do you always have a hard time finding your keys, or was that pre-pregnancy brain?”
She chuckled. “This purse pretty much swallows everything I put in it.”
He frowned. “And while you’re waiting for it to regurgitate your keys, you could be attacked.”
She reared back and stared at him. “This is Portsmouth, New Hampshire, not Boston. It’s unlikely, but I suppose it could happen. If it makes you feel any better, I took self-defense training.” From and old boyfriend who probably wanted to manhandle me.
“Brigit. I’m just looking out for you. I’d do the same for anyone.”
She smiled. “I know. I’ll get one of those key chains I can clip to a flashlight and keep it in the cell phone pocket. How’s that?”
“Better, but where will you put your cell phone?”
She shrugged. “I’ll figure that out later.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Why? Are you going to take me purse shopping?”
He chuckled. “You wish. Actually, I’m ready to make your other wish come true. The moon will still be full, it’s a Friday—Freya’s day, and the best day for fertility. I have something special planned, unless you can’t make it...”
“Hell, no. If I had plans, I’d cancel them.” She gazed at his soft, blue eyes and felt hers tearing up. “Thank you,” she whispered.
N
either of them spoke for a few seconds. At last, Ethan swooped in and kissed her. To her surprise it wasn’t a peck, and it wasn’t a knee buckler, either. It was a proper ‘goodnight’ kiss. His hand cupped the back of her head and his lips were closed but he used enough pressure to communicate unmistakable intent. When he broke the kiss and took a step back, she missed his warmth. Time to go.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
When she was seated and before she closed the door, she answered, “Not if I call you first.” They smiled at one another and she escaped before any more uncomfortable topics arose.
* * * *
“What do you mean you’re not bringing her here?” Charlotte demanded. “This is a huge moment in your life. I’ve been here for everything. Your first step. Your first word. Even your first kiss. These days that babysitter would have been fired.”
He grinned at the memory. “I told you. I have something special planned. If it’s any consolation, I’m taking your advice. Candles, roses, atmosphere...the whole nine yards.” He continued to unload his bag from the Farmer’s Market and popped a strawberry in his mouth.
“Yes, but where?”
“I’m not telling you, my dear. Goddess forbid you decide to take a walk for the first time in a couple hundred years.”
Charlotte made a noise that sounded like she’d just shivered. “I’ll have you know I don’t care that much. I was just curious.”
“Sure, you don’t.” Ethan laughed. After a long silence he asked a question he’d always wondered about. “Charlotte, how come you never leave the house?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Try me.”
She lowered her voice an octave and said, “You can’t handle the truth.”
He chuckled. “I’m a grown man now. I think I can handle the truth.”
She sighed. “There’s a whole stream of ghosts walking by. Many of them don’t even know they’re dead. It’s like zombie central out there.”
“Seriously? How come I can’t hear them?” He dumped the strawberries into a colander and rinsed them.
“Like I said. They don’t know they’re dead and they don’t even know you’re there. It’s not like they want to eat your brains.”
