She couldn’t stand another moment watching him and the woman he’d replaced her with. They lived in bliss while she suffered. Each and every day she hated them that much more.
Her own father had been a horrible man. Violent and filthy, he’d gnawed away at her mother’s spirit until her mother had finally called upon the dark spirits to take care of him. Alexandra had watched eagerly and followed in her mother’s footsteps after that, always careful to keep her practice of the craft hidden.
Especially from her step-father, Gyorgy Stoltz, for he loathed witches more than her own father had.
And it was that knowledge that was going to set her free. Gyorgy was the town’s magistrate and he would never forgive the woman responsible for the plague, not to mention his own wife’s death. That’s why Alexandra would come back to this tiny cottage in the woods after her own mother expired.
She felt almost giddy at the idea. She would beg the Reddish Wolf to come to the castle to save her poor mother. Of course, her mother would already be dead, but the wolf wouldn’t know that. The Reddish Wolf would refuse but in the end she would do the right thing, and it would cost her dearly.
Alexandra had learned enough about manipulation from her mother to know that she had her step-father just where she wanted him. She’d already planted the seed that Elena Maria Catargiu-Obrenović, the reddish wolf, was a witch. The whole village was looking for someone to blame over this outbreak of sickness. It would be easy enough to convince them that witchcraft was to blame. Then her step-father would be in the perfect position to avenge his wife’s death, all while giving the people of this small village someone to hang. Now all she needed was the Priest’s collaboration.
Chapter Three
Blast from the Past
Dublin, Ireland, 2031
I could feel my cheeks burning. “Madam Brun. I’m so sorry. I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve lost weight.” She’d also lost approximately fifteen years.
Madam Brun bounced her luxurious dark curls with one hand and placed the other hand on her narrow hip, sashaying across the room.
“I married a doctor. I guess you could say I’ve had a little work done.”
That was putting it mildly. This man was clearly a magician. I couldn’t believe this was the same psychic I’d consulted sixteen years ago; she looked more like a younger sister or daughter.
The psychic smoothed the jacket of her expensive pant suit down and set her purse on the counter.
“You remember my friend, Leslie?” I asked.
Leslie held out her hand which Madam Brun let dangle.
Leslie cleared her throat and walked away. I knew what she was thinking and it rhymed with itch.
“What are you doing here? In Ireland, I mean?”
The last time I’d seen her she’d been dealing tarot cards and her body had jiggled almost as much as the elaborate coins that hung around her neck. Her frizzy hair had been tied back with a bright scarf, and her wrinkled eyes lined dramatically in kohl. She looked sixty at the time and now I wouldn’t have guessed her a day over forty-five.
“Oh, working, traveling, you know how it is.”
“Not really. Cullen would probably have a better understanding of that. Not too much travel involved in owning a bookstore.”
“No. I bet it’s a different sort of fun though. Look at all these books,” she said, picking up a thick volume. “The Witches Encyclopedia.”
“Yes, we just got a new shipment so it’s a little full in here.”
“It’s fabulous and I’ve been curious to see the place since I received the grand opening evite. Finding you here, located so close to where I’m staying, is such a coincidence.”
I saw her eyeing the open box of cupcakes and lifted it towards her.
“Thank you dear,” Madam said, taking the last vanilla bean. “I haven’t had breakfast yet and I’m famished.” She bit into it, rolling her eyes in ecstasy. “Did you get this from the Cupcake Shoppe up the street?”
Did everyone know that place? I thought begrudgingly. I glanced over at Leslie who was standing rigidly with her arms crossed in front of her. She cracked a smarmy grin.
“Yes, my daughter, Alana works there—she’s friends with the owner’s daughter.” I added.
“Really? Maybe I’ve met her.” she said, using a napkin to wipe a big glob of frosting from her lower lip. “We rented a flat across the road a month ago. I’m excited to try the new peppermint patty she’s adding to the menu today.”
“We just got a fresh box of those in this morning. Would you like one? Leslie loves to share with our customers,” I said, ignoring the angry, sideways glare Leslie fixed on me.
“That is so sweet but one is my limit. I’ve been meaning to look you up and when I spotted your sign today I thought it looked familiar. Fate is bringing us together once again.” She popped the last bite into her mouth, swallowing it almost without chewing.
Her words, although innocent enough, reminded me of that last visit when she’d warned me over and over again: Your daughter must never come into contact with that book.
“Anyway, Remus is waiting for me but maybe we can do dinner soon.”
“Remus?”
“My husband.”
“The Doctor. Congratulations. When did you get married?”
“Ten years ago. I’ll tell you all about it the next time I see you but I’ve got to go,” she said, opening the door to leave. “I’ll pop back in later.”
I walked to the counter where Leslie was cleaning the coffee machine and simultaneously demolishing a strawberry cupcake.
“Seriously, girl, doctors need to run tests on you. It is unnatural for a person to eat so much without gaining an ounce.”
She turned her scowl on me. “I don’t like that woman.”
“You’re just mad because she ate the last vanilla bean cupcake.”
“Daphne ran away from her,” she confirmed, unscrewing the lid of the chocolate hazelnut spread. “That cat is an excellent judge of character.”
“Wrong. Daphne is a diva—and you are the only person she likes all of the time.”
Leslie smirked. “Exactly my point, she is an excellent judge of character. Speaking of judging one’s character, this weird book came in with the shipment. Did you order a psychology book on the nature of evil? We were charged for that one.”
I looked away. I couldn’t admit I was questioning my own daughter, even to my best friend.
“Where did I put it now?” she mumbled to herself, getting to her feet.
I flashed back to that rainy night in Toronto almost seventeen years before. The night Madam Brun had given me the ominous choice to either abort my fetus or entrust the Book of Rochus to her for safe keeping.
“Are you listening to me?” Leslie asked, wrenching me from my thoughts. I looked down, realizing I’d unpacked a whole box without checking off the inventory list.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about Saturday and all I have to do. Do you think you can pop in and check on the new girl? I know it’s your free weekend but Alana’s friends are coming over for her birthday.”
“You asked me that last week.”
“Right and you said yes. It’s this relentless headache; it’s making me flighty.”
“Why don’t you go home and lie down?”
My eyes focused on the window. The black bird was still hanging around.
“I will. Thanks, Les.” At the sound of my voice the raven shifted its gaze to me. Daphne leapt at the window and it flew away. Hopefully it wouldn’t be back, I thought, spotting the missing psychology book and shoving it into my bag.
Chapter Four
Love Worth Fighting For
Hunedoara, Romania, 1494
Morning came quickly, and with it the realization that Sofia needed to escape the castle. As light started to peek through the tower window, she felt Costin shift beside her, and she turned her head so that she could kiss his brow.
“Costin, you must awaken,
the birds are chirping.”
They had planned only to sit together for a little while—stargazing as they had as children—but at some point it had grown cool and they’d moved inside, only to drift away into slumber. Perhaps Sofia should have pulled away by now, the castle would be awake. It had been years since they’d risked star gazing in the castle.
Sofia never felt such peace, such happiness, as when she was with Costin. The sadness she felt at knowing they could never be together caused her to ache all the way down to her bones. He was still fast asleep, holding Sofia tight; squeezing his arms around her every time she shifted to get up, as if he realized her intention was to sneak away. Finally he stirred.
“Good morning, my angel. I’m so glad you didn’t hurry away. ”
“But I should have. Now we’re trapped.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be. I don’t understand why you won’t come away with me, Sofia. We could live a simple life free of my mother and her relentless hate.”
Sofia smiled and kissed him lightly before forcing herself to stand. “No, as much as I wish it, I can’t abandon my mother. Besides it would only be a matter of hours before your grandfather would have his castle guards on the hunt.”
“True, but that would only make us go further and faster.”
He stood, doing nothing to hide what morning had done to him, and Sofia’s face reddened at the sight of him. “How will I get out of the castle unseen?” She asked.
“We’ll use the hidden corridor just as before. Trust me, no one knows of our secret place.” He gathered her up in his arms, pulling her in close so that she could scarcely breathe. “I love you, Sofia, and I won’t give up on the idea of us being together. When I can, I shall ask you to marry me. In time, my mother will learn to accept it.”
Sofia tensed and pulled away. She couldn’t have him make promises to her that she knew he couldn’t keep. Costin was a good man, but his mother would never accept her into the family. She had made that very clear.
He grabbed her quickly, silencing her with his mouth. Her head spun and her knees buckled. “Tell me that you’ll meet me again tonight. I can’t live if I haven’t the hope of holding you in my arms.”
Sofia smiled. Her waning resistance shattered by his pretty words.
He kissed her once more and led her through the secret corridor, down the stairs and outside the castle walls to the edge of the woods. He smiled as they parted ways. Once he was gone, she scanned the horizon. Seeing it clear, she made her way back through the woods.
Chapter Five
The Monster Within
Dublin, Ireland, 2031
I stood still, peering in through the darkened glass, looking for someone, although I couldn’t pinpoint who. The rain was light, little more than a drizzle. Wetting rain as Cullen would’ve called it. The inside of the store was familiar to me—large purple drapes like I’d seen in a psychic shop once before.
My skin was tingling, and despite the cool mist, I had begun to sweat. Very slowly I looked down and watched my belly swell. My breasts were changing, too, and my belly continued to grow at an alarming rate until it protruded out like a basketball—like a woman about to give birth.
There were distinct sounds coming from within the shop—a familiar shuffling of cards and the faint sound of a baby crying. The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside and waddled to the back of the shop where a figure cloaked in shadow sat at a table shuffling oversized cards. A terrible stabbing came from within my stomach and I keeled over. When the pain subsided, I straightened and no longer had the enlarged tummy.
I sank down in the chair facing the shadowed woman with no face. She handed me another card but it was blank. Then she pointed to the front of the shop. Through the glass, standing in the darkened street was a young girl that had transformed into a hideous beast.
I lurched awake. The nightmare was a familiar one. I’d been having it off and on for the last seventeen years —ever since that night in Madam Brun’s shop when she’d read my tarot cards.
I came down the hall in my slippers and long white robe. Daphne was fast asleep on the wingback chair in the corner of my husband’s study. And why wouldn’t she be? It was the middle of the night. Everyone slept peacefully, but me.
The fire was not quite out.
I added a log and stirred it, bringing the flames back to life. I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep, so I perused the shelf where I kept my classics.
Despite the fire, the room was still dim, so I could hardly read the titles but I didn’t feel like anything specific, anyway; I just wanted to get sleepy and forget about the nightmare. I held my hand out, running it along the books until the leather of one in particular warmed my hand. Taking Bram Stoker’s Dracula down from the shelf, I curled up in the window seat, propping myself against a pillow and nestling under a soft chenille throw to combat the chill in the air. Rain flooded down the glass inches from my face. Nothing beat the sound of rain and the feel of a book in your hands. It was times like this I missed being a librarian—not that I wasn’t around books anymore, but these days I also had to count inventory, track shipments and balance the accounting books. Mysterious Adventures in Ink wasn’t much of a moneymaker, but with Cullen’s bank account, we hardly needed more money, and connecting people with books was my passion. That and being a good wife and mother, which I wasn’t sure I was, these days.
I looked down at the book I’d grabbed from the shelf, ready to dive into the distraction. Somehow Rochus’ spell book lay in my hands. What was it doing on the shelf? I walked over to the drawer where we’d kept it locked for the last fifteen years and placed it back inside. I ran my hand over the embossed design on the spine. My fingers tingled at the familiar touch.
“How did you get out?” I whispered.
A floorboard creaked.
“I didn’t know I was to stay put,” returned a deep and sleepy voice from the doorway.
Startled, I shut the drawer with a thud and moved back around the desk to the window seat.
Cullen sauntered over in only his pajama bottoms. He had great shoulders, a great chest and, oh man, those abs. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Ye might have tried the handcuffs in the nightstand if ye meant to keep me yer prisoner, Aeval.”
I smiled.
At forty-six he still made my heart beat a little faster.
“What are ye doin’ up? Ye went to bed hours ago.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“I don’t blame ye. It’s absolutely lashin’ out there.”
“It wasn’t the rain that woke me.”
He nodded. “Ye’re still bothered over what Alana said.”
Tears filled my eyes. Where had time gone? One minute she’d been toddling around the place climbing cupboards and trees and next she was a moody sixteen-year-old hating on me like it was her full-time job. I thought of my Great-Grandmother, Gigi. She’d raised me and she’d done such a good job, had always been attentive and understanding. How had she done it? If only there was a way to text Heaven.
Cullen wrapped his arms around me and I inched over so we could both fit into the window seat.
“She’s actin’ the maggot. Ye said it yourself earlier. It’s a phase. A really snarky bugger of a phase, but she’ll come around.”
I leaned my back against the window pane and stared at the small flames licking at the hearth.
“Remember when we took her camping and she threw her little chair on the fire because I told her no more marshmallows?”
“She was always bold when hungry, that one.” Cullen laughed. “Just like her mum.”
I turned and smiled at him. “I should have known then and there that we were in trouble. That was the first time she told me she hated me. She was five, Cullen!”
A blast of wind shook the pane and I shifted my gaze to look outside. The storm fired tiny pellets at the window like a machine gun. I caught my reflection in the glass. My hair was a tangled mess.
I tried to fix it.
“Sophia, luv, ye’re awful gorgeous when ye worry, but ye needn’t do it. Ye’re a damn good mum and Alana doesn’t hate ye!”
“No, she doesn’t hate you.” I remarked.
“I’m gone half the week. Ye’r rulin’ the roost, so of course she’s after rebellin’ against ye.”
“I don’t want to rule the roost.”
“Good then, I will. Can we go to bed now? I’m knackered.”
I nodded, thinking once again of the book as he helped me to my feet.
“Cullen, do you know why—”
“Why ye’re exposin’ things? I haven’t a clue, but if it’s an invitation, then I accept.” A smile curved his lips.
I looked down. My robe was tied off-center and the top three buttons of the nightshirt I wore underneath had come undone.
I laughed. “I thought you were tired.”
“I’m feelin’ lively now. Besides it’s only three.”
He pulled me in tight against his side. His arms were my safe and happy place, just as they’d been for the last seventeen years. It was hard to imagine we’d been together that long.
We walked down the hall and he shushed me as I tried once again to ask him about the book.
“Ye’ll wake Alana, love, and ye really don’t want her hearing the things I’m goin’ to do to ye.”
I laughed, giving in; I could ask him tomorrow. I climbed onto the bed and he surprised me by sliding in on my side. I felt his hand slip under my nightshirt, molding itself over my hip. I turned towards him.
“We’ve led quite a life together, haven’t we?”
The room was dark, but I could make out his trademark smirk.
“Awe, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”
I couldn’t be sure I felt the same way.
Temple of Indra's Witch Page 2
