by Ashlyn Chase
“She’s consulting with Enzo,” Brigit said.
“That’s great, Bridge. You’re doing great.”
“She’s nodding. Oh! I can read her lips.”
“He said that’s fine. He wouldn’t want you to see him as he is anyway. Apparently some burrowing animals made their home in him.”
“Ewww...” Brigit’s expression suggested she understood that part too. Suddenly she grew pale and said, “Excuse me,” and ran off in the direction of the bathroom.
Ethan sighed. “I feel for pregnant women. No wonder the Goddess gave them a nurturing instinct. Who would go through that voluntarily without some kind of overriding need?”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s a saint.”
Ethan chuckled. “No. Closer to a goddess.” He gazed after her, unsure of what he was feeling. Sympathy? Regret? His feelings didn’t matter anymore. The deed was done.
* * * *
The coven was meeting for Yule. The full moon was about a week away and they usually saved their important spells for the maximum power of the full moon. But the waxing moon was good for spells directed at growing things. A business. A relationship. Or in Brigit’s case, a new life. She was ready to “come out” to her coven members who might not know she was pregnant—although it seemed like most of them did. She still wasn’t ready to mention that Ethan was the father. Not until she cleared up the little manner of Hanna’s not wanting mated partners in the coven.
She needed to talk to him about that too. Hopefully they’d be able to find a quiet corner and chat privately before the ritual got going.
When she entered Hanna’s suite, she was greeted by the warmth and cheer of her second home. A small fire was crackling in the fireplace. The actual Yule log was decorated with greens and berries, and proudly occupied the center space on the altar. A punch bowl sat on the kitchen island along with the Bewitching Bakery’s red velvet cupcakes, plum pudding, and a rolled cake decorated like a Yule log...all confections that made her mouth water.
Right now Ethan was talking to Rebecca and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she tried to pretend not to notice him.
“Brigit!” April exclaimed. “Adorable coat. Where did you get it?”
“I made it,” she announced, proudly.
Several of the early arrivals turned to check her out. She was greeted with more compliments. Celestia and the girls from the spa crowded around her. Celestia rubbed the sleeve between her fingers. “It feels like an Indian blanket from Peru.”
“It was.”
“That must have been hard to sew,” April said.
“I was able to rent an industrial sewing machine. It’s a new thing people are doing. If they have something they don’t use all the time, they’ll rent it out. That way they can make a few bucks and their item gets some use instead of sitting around gathering dust.”
“Ha,” Isabelle said. “I should rent out my treadmill.”
Lana kept staring at it. “It’s beautiful. I’d totally wear something like that.”
Myranda grinned. “I talked her into making one for me. Oh, and I brought the material for you, hon. Don’t let me forget to give it to you.”
“Hey...how come you get one?” Isabelle asked.
“Because I’m paying her for it,” Myranda said. “Besides, I’m going to need a new coat. I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations!” rang out from every corner.
Holy cow. What a coincidence. Now Brigit wanted to keep her pregnancy to herself again. She didn’t want to steal Myranda’s thunder. The mother-to-be was accepting several hugs and at one point, she winked at Brigit. She may have been trying to tell her it was okay to share the spotlight, but Brigit’s inner reluctance said she really wasn’t ready to.
Ethan walked over. “What’s going on?”
“Myranda’s pregnant,” Lana burst out.
He strode over to Myranda and gave her a hug and offered his congratulations. Then he smiled at Brigit.
“Can I talk to you, privately?” she whispered.
“Of course.” He glanced around. “Where did you want to go?”
“End of the hall, I guess.” There really weren’t a lot of choices. She unfastened her coat and Ethan helped her out of it. She tossed it over a chair and suddenly it looked like the blanket it really was.
When they reached the end of the hall, she whispered, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“I heard that Hanna doesn’t like couples in the coven. I don’t know how she’ll feel about both of us staying—even if we’re not married. I’d like to put off that conversation for as long as possible.”
Ethan’s lips thinned. He gazed at the floor silently while he removed his jacket. “I don’t know, Bridge. It might be better to get any questions answered now.”
She swiveled around to gaze at her warm, welcoming friends—her coven. What would she do without them? She needed friends who accepted and supported her regardless of her life and choices, and this was about the only place she’d found that.
Tears were forming and threatening to spill. She looked up and blinked several times, trying to will them away.
“Hey...” He pulled her into a hug. “We’ll figure this out. Why don’t we meet with her privately some other time. I’ll call her tomorrow and see if we can set something up.”
Brigit let out a sigh and nodded against his shoulder. “Okay.”
“The other things I overheard were a lot of compliments on your homemade coat. I’ll bet you could make some good money if you got one of the shops downtown to take them.”
She brightened. “Holy cow. I hadn’t thought of that. I went into one of those shops to see if I could buy something ready-made. Their coats were crazy expensive. That’s when I got the idea to make my own.”
“From the compliments you’re getting, I’d say they’d sell.”
“And maybe I’d be off the hook for the whole medium thing.”
He shrugged. “Or it could buy you some time to practice with Charlotte until you’re feeling more confident.”
“I’m really not sure if I want to do it at all. I mean, Enzo turned out to be fairly easy. We found a priest willing to bless his bones and have him moved to hallowed ground. But who knows what other spirits might want?”
“You don’t have to decide right now.”
“Everyone ready?” Hanna called out.
When people were slow to move toward the circle, Raven, in his complete Cher costume, called out, “Hey, people. I know it’s the longest night of the year, but some of us don’t have all day. Some of us have places to be.”
At that moment Ethan’s cell phone rang. He groaned and took it out of its pocket holster. Glancing at the number, he said, “Sorry, folks. I’m afraid I’m being tugged away.”
Chapter 13
As Ethan left, Hanna sighed. “That means we only have twelve. I prefer thirteen in our ritual circles. If everyone can wait a few more minutes, I’ll call Fayleen and see what she’s up to.”
“Fine with me,” most of them said.
Keith aka Raven held his tongue, despite wanting to ask how fast Fayleen could get her cute butt to arrive. He had a gig at his club that night, and it wouldn’t be the same without his appearance as Cher. But he didn’t want to be an asshole to his fellow coven members either. Even though he was the outspoken one of the group, he tried not to turn into a whiner.
Hanna excused herself and strode to her bedroom to make the call. He noticed a phone in the kitchen and wondered why she didn’t just use that one.
“Raven, are you all right?” Lana asked. “You look pissed off.”
He smirked. “I look pissed off a lot...or hadn’t you noticed.”
The redheaded stylist gave him a coquettish smile. “I’d say your usual look is more brooding. That can be kind of sexy.”
He barked a laugh. “Even when I’m cross-dressing?”
She grinned. “Well, you look better as
a guy, but that’s just my opinion. I’m sure you attract a lot of attention from both sexes.”
“That’s good since I’m an equal opportunity lover.”
“I knew it!” Lana pumped her fist in the air.
Everyone turned toward her. “Oh, come on. We’ve all wondered.”
Raven chuckled and shook his head. “Well, now you know. I’m bisexual.” He raised his voice. “Is that a problem for anyone?”
Most of the coven members chuckled and shook their heads. Some told him he must be kidding. They didn’t care what he did.
I love being among open-minded people. These were his friends, despite his being a bit of a jerk sometimes. In fact, he thought some of them appreciated his speaking up for them...saving them the trouble.
“Look, this is ridiculous. By the time Fayleen gets here it’ll be too late for me to stay. I’m sure the rest of you would like to get home at a reasonable hour too.”
A few nods and murmurs of agreement followed.
“Okay, then. I’ll go talk to Hanna.”
He strode to the bedroom door and opened it as he knocked. All she was doing was making a phone call, so he figured it would be safe to semi-barge in.
The room was empty.
What the fuck? “Hanna?” Maybe she’s under the bed or in the closet?
When there was no answer, he backed out of the room and checked the bathroom. That was empty too. Okay, this is way weird.
He returned to her bedroom and closed the door behind him. If he was going to rifle through closets and peek under the bed, he didn’t want witnesses.
No sooner had he opened the closet and pushed aside any clothes that could possibly hide a five-by-five witch, Hanna spoke from behind him and he jumped.
“Looking for something?”
“Yeah. You. Where the hell did you go?”
“Raven, we need to talk...but we’ll do it later. I know you want to get your show on the road.” She smiled at her own joke, but it did nothing to reassure him that everything was all right. She lowered her voice. “Do you think you can be quiet about this until tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah. But you’re gonna have to come up with a pretty creative explanation, if I’m going to believe you.”
“I won’t need to. I’m going to tell you the truth. You were kind enough to come forward with information that will help us find Michele—eventually. I will keep your confidence. I expect you to keep mine.”
He stuck his hand out. “Deal,” he said, and they shook on it.
“Fayleen should be arriving at any moment. Let’s join the others.”
“At any moment? Where was she?”
Hanna hesitated, then sighed. “North Carolina. I’ll explain tomorrow.”
Keith felt a little lightheaded. “I’ll look forward to that.”
* * * *
A knock at the door brought Brigit out of her private thoughts. Celestia opened it and Fayleen walked in. Wow. She got here quickly.
As a few members were murmuring the same thing, Hanna and Keith exited her bedroom. For some reason, the tall, dark male witch looked a little shaken. Maybe Hanna gave him a lecture when he barged into her room.
Brigit turned her attention to Fayleen and greeted her. She had been telling the others that she was visiting her friend and staying in a room just one flight of stairs away.
“Y’all have way too many lamps on in here,” she said, and flicked off the overhead light.
The room immediately took on a warm, amber glow. The fire in the grate provided most of the light, and soon the altar would be ablaze with candles too. Brigit loved the atmosphere of firelight in a dark room. It tugged at something deep within—something primal.
“Let’s get ready to gather around,” Hanna said.
Twelve witches formed a large loose circle with the altar and Hanna in the center.
“Everything looks lovely, Hanna,” Fayleen said. “Would you like me to sweep?”
“Thank you, yes.” Hanna handed Fayleen the ritual broom and Fayleen made a sweeping motion with it. The rug was probably vacuumed daily, but the motion was part of the ritual—starting with a clean slate, so to speak. Other witches stepped back so she had plenty of room to create a sacred space.
As soon as Fayleen was through sweeping, she handed the broom to Hanna, who placed it behind the altar, out of the way. Hanna took a large bowl of salt and handed it to Celestia. Without needing to be asked, Celestia walked behind her fellow coven members and enclosed them all in a circle of salt.
“I’ll never know how she gets it all out of the rug,” Lana whispered to Rebecca. Rebecca smiled and seemed to share some kind of secret wink with Hanna.
When Celestia had everyone, including herself, inside the closed salted circle she handed the empty bowl back to Hanna, who set it near the broom. Then she lit some strong incense.
Hanna closed her eyes and lifted her hands, palms up. She took several deep cleansing breaths, then opened her eyes and picked up her wand. The other participants all joined hands without being asked to.
She walked a tight circular path, extending her wand over the other twelve heads. In her almost otherworldly voice she chanted, “I cast and charge this circle to protect us from all negative energies that may wish to do us harm.”
When she reached the last one, she repeated her circular path and said, “I draw into this circle only the aspects and energies of the universe that are most correct for our ritual intentions.”
On her third pass, she said, “I cast this circle and create sacred space.” She was just placing her wand against the altar when Brigit’s stomach roiled. She happened to glance over at Myranda whose face had gone white. Brigit saw beads of sweat forming on her brow.
Shivers alternated with heat and the inevitable symptoms of morning sickness were upon Brigit before she could think of what to do. There was no time to waste. She was either going to have to burst through the circle and get to the bathroom or hurl right there on the rug.
Brigit called out a weak, “Sorry!” and bolted from the circle. She didn’t realize Myranda was right behind her until they almost got stuck in the bathroom door frame. They managed to get in and shut the door, but which one of them got to pray to the porcelain Goddess? Bark at the bucket? Toss their cookies in the jar?
“Oh, hell,” Myranda said and subsequently barfed into the sink. Brigit hit her knees and filled the toilet.” As soon as one stopped retching, the other one started again. This chain reaction went on until they were dry heaving and trying not to laugh.
When they had finally washed up and rinsed their mouths, the pair of them returned to the circle.
“Sorry,” Myranda said. “Strong odors set off my morning sickness.”
Raven stared at Brigit with a knowing smile. “What’s your excuse glamour girl?”
Brigit felt her face heat. Should she tell them?
“I wasn’t going to say anything. I wanted this to be Myranda’s night for good news. “I think it was the incense.”
The salon witches exclaimed, “You too?”
Brigit just nodded and smiled.
Celestia said, “But you’re not married—not that it makes any difference to me, but it might be harder for you. Let us know if we can help.”
“That’s sweet, but it’s not accidental. My biological alarm clock was going off, and I wanted a child. I just wasn’t about to marry some poor unsuspecting guy to get one.”
Lana smirked. “You could marry a rich unsuspecting guy...”
Brigit snorted. “That’s what my mother did. Four times. No, thanks.”
“So...” April interjected, “You’re both pregnant and both happy about it. Right?”
“Other than the damn morning sickness, yes,” Myranda said.
“I’ll second that,” Brigit added. Myranda and Brigit glanced at each other and grinned.
“But it isn’t morning.” Raven glanced at his watch. “Not yet, but it will be by the time we get going.”
�
��It can happen at other times,” Myranda said.
“Yes,” Fayleen said. “Obviously.”
Hanna sighed. “Let’s start over. I’ll need to recast the circle.”
“Sorry,” Myranda and Brigit said in unison. They smiled at each other and Brigit tried to suppress a giggle.
* * * *
The alchemist did his best to peek through the jewels embedded in the grail, but something was obscuring his view. He had already endured the humiliation of being rejected as a child’s crayon holder; sold in a yard sale—and it was the dippy bird drinking out of him, which the buyer really wanted; tossed and then rejected by a recycling center; buried in the woods by a dog; unearthed and used as a water bowl for said dog, thus giving the flea-bitten mutt supernatural powers—and yet no one could put two and two together and come up with the fact that an alchemist must be trapped in the grail? It was almost the last straw; but this?
It seemed as if he had come full circle.
“Mommy? Can I have more stickers? I want to finish decorating the cup.”
“Oh, no. You didn’t keep that horrible thing you found at the dump did you?”
“Daddy said I could keep it. I want to put my barrettes and hair ties in it.”
A sigh was followed by an “Oh, all right. But don’t put the stickers on anything else. Remember how hard they were to get off of your night stand?”
“I just wanted to make it pretty.”
“Well, making that cup pretty might be a lost cause, but I’ll get you a few more stickers and you can try. Which ones do you want?”
“The glittery hearts!”
Her mother chuckled. “Of course.”
Bloody, bloody, Hell.
* * * *
“So she still won’t marry you?” Charlotte asked.
Ethan took a cup of coffee to his living room, smiling, slyly. “I haven’t asked her.”
“You what? Why not? She’s having your child! Do you want him or her to be branded a bastard?”
“It’s not like that today, Charlotte.” He sat in his easy chair and picked up the TV remote.
“Now, wait just a minute. Usually I love watching the boob tube, as you call it, but right now I want to talk.”
