With You In Spirit (The Bassinville Witches Series)

by Miranda Stork

  With You In Spirit

  The Bassinville Witches Series #1

  Miranda Stork

  Copyright © Miranda Stork 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher: Moon Rose Publishing The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  As Declan felt the bolt of magick hit him, a searing pain ran through his chest, and he knew it was over. A salty tear rolled from the corner of his eye, not for himself, but for two others, who were waiting at home for him.

  As he felt his body hit the floor, blood pooled around him, and his body ran cold with unnatural ice. To his horror, the orb rolled from his hand, and it bounced off into the shadows with a merry clanking, glass upon stone.

  The last thought as he sank into darkness, was of his beautiful wife and daughter waiting for him to return…

  Chapter 1

  Catherine leaned forwards on the bar, squirming uncomfortably on the bar stool. It was far too hot, and sweat shone slickly from her forehead. She ran her finger along the cold drink in front of her, wiping off the droplets that had gathered on the outside of the glass.

  It was a melting hot day in the whole of Louisiana, and even more so in Bassinville. Even after living here for five years; she still hadn’t got used to the outrageous heat that sometimes melted the tyres to the roads. She was dressed in cut-off denim shorts, a long yellow t-shirt, and brown leather cowboy boots. Her friend Shawna had laughed at her for wearing them constantly, as it was such a cliché in this part of the world, but she simply shrugged it off. Catherine had never been one to follow fashion, or even anything else that people said.

  Shawna was sat next to her, leaning back in her bar stool, fanning herself with a beer mat, her eyes closed against the heat. Catherine leaned across and prodded her friend sharply, making her jump and snap open her dark brown eyes.

  “Shawna…we’ve got to do something. Otherwise my tombstone is going to read ‘No body was ever found-just a puddle’.”

  “What? You mean about the weather? Ain’t nothin’ you can do about that, girl.” Shawna nodded vehemently, fanning herself faster. Catherine loved her Southern drawl. Catherine herself was from North East England; her mother had moved out here five years ago, bringing Catherine and their three cats with her.

  Catherine’s mother was odd; even by her own standards, but the whole town loved her none the less. She had travelled around the world, many years ago, and eventually settled herself for a while in England. Apparently, she had met Catherine’s father while on a beach, as he was swimming. They had fallen in love at first sight, and married just a month later. Not long after that, Catherine had come along. Then one day, he just…disappeared. One morning he was hugging them and telling them how much he loved them, and then he was…gone. Her mother had stayed there for years, hoping he would come back, but then decided enough was enough. She waited until Catherine had finished school, and then bundled them all back to Bassinville.

  Turning slowly on her squeaky red leather seat, Catherine viewed the bar, trying to will the cool air from the overhead fans to blow her way. The bar was pretty much like any other in Louisiana, wooden panelling and wooden floor. The overhead fans spun lazily, making the edge of the posters stuck up by the door rustle slightly. There was a clack of resin balls as two men played in the corner at the long pool table. Henri, the owner, was behind the bar, stacking up glasses for the under-bar dishwasher, humming a tuneless melody to himself.

  She crossed her legs, leaning her head back, letting her long brunette hair cascade down her back, curling rebelliously. Grabbing her glass, she took a long sip of the drink within, wrinkling her nose at the taste. Still pulling a face, she spun round, and placed it back on the bar with a shudder. “Ugh, Henri, what the hell is that?”

  Henri looked up in surprise, his wrinkled face framing his sharp blue eyes. “Whad’ya mean? It’s my own creation, got plenty of good stuff in there.”

  Shawna reached over for the tall glass, and took a long sip from the straw; before coughing, and slamming it back down with a horrified look. “Aw, hell no, Henri! That tastes like something you made in the bath!”

  Sighing, Henri shook his head, and continued to stack glasses. “Ah, well…I guess it’s back to the drawing board then. I won’t be using olives in a blended drink anymore.” At the mention of olives in the drink, Catherine and Shawna both pulled faces at one another, mimicking being sick. They loved Henri, but he was always trying to make new mixed drinks for people to try. It was his dream to make the bar more ‘cosmopolitan’, but he remained adamant that he could make better cocktails than the usual ones.

  There was a bang behind them as the door swung open and shut, reverberating on its frame. Several determined, strong footsteps made their way across the floor to the bar, the floorboards creaking under the person’s weight. Shawna’s eyes opened wide, and she excitedly tried to get Catherine’s attention, pinching her arm.

  “Ow! What the hell was that for? As if I’m not uncomfortable enough right now.”

  Shawna pointed as confidentially as she could, pointing over towards the other end of the bar. “I wouldn’t mind a drink of him….mm-hm!” she whispered into Catherine’s ear.

  Catherine turned her head, expecting to see a carbon copy of every other pretty boy that resided in this town. They were usually Shawna’s type. But as she turned to look at the stranger leaning against the bar, she could see that this guy was everyone’s type.

  A tall, black haired man leaned against the bar, dressed in dark blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a black shirt, opened a little way down his chest. A tattoo ran along his right arm, the vast patterns hidden by the light trail of hair along his forearms. Two stormy grey eyes peered out from a face that was chiselled and rugged all at once. He ran a hand over his already tousled hair, and turned slowly to meet her gaze. As she continued to gawp, he flashed her a heart-stopping grin, revealing even, straight white teeth.

  Embarrassed by her obvious stare at him, Catherine quickly turned her face away, staring hard into the noxious drink Henri had made for her, blushing brightly. Shawna sniggered at her reaction, and moved her stool closer, so that she could whisper to her. “Ain’t he stunning?”

  Catherine tried to bat her friend away, aware that the stranger was still watching them, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Shut up, Shawna!”

  Luckily, Henri came to her rescue before she lit up the whole bar with her flushed cheeks, and walked over to the stranger, placing a glass in front of him. “On the house, friend. Sure is a hot one today!”

  “Why, thank you, that’s very kind of you.” The stranger lifted the drink in a cheerful salute to Henri, and then towards the two girls, before knocking the cool water back in one go. Catherine shuddered as she heard his deep tones. His voice was rich and sensuous, a southern drawl like Shawna’s. She saw him raising the glass to her and Shawna, but pretended she didn’t see it. Shawna giggled and nudged her hard with her elbow. Catherine scowled at her, concentrating harder than ever at her glass, as if she could make it shatter if she stared at it long enough.

  Henri spoke up again. “So are you just passing through?” The question was innocent enough, but Henri was just like the rest of the town; eternal gossips. Part of being a small town meant that everyone knew everyone else, and
strangers caused a great stir. A new topic of conversation, as it were.

  The stranger nodded, and leaned his elbow on the bar, kicking his boot up onto the brass kick-rail that ran around the edge of the polished redwood. “No, I’m staying a few days. My family came from around these parts, and I’m doing a little family research, you might say.”

  “Oh, sounds very interesting. Would I have known any of your family?”

  There a chuckle from the man, and he shook his head. “No, I’m talking way back. My great-great grandfather came from here, but he moved away when he was still young.”

  “Hey, if you’re looking for someone to help you with your research, my friend here could help you?”

  Catherine looked up slowly, glaring at Shawna, who was grinning at her with a what-did-I-say face. Shawna looked over at the man again, and beckoned him across. Still smiling lazily, he pulled himself upright, and strode over.

  “Howdy. Nice to meet you both.” Catherine slipped off her chair, and turned around, keeping her eyes lowered.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “English, huh? Such a pretty accent.” Shawna nudged her pointedly, and Catherine looked up sharply, smiling like a loon. She had never understood that phrase that some women used, when they said that the sight of a man had stolen their breath away, but she understood it now. His eyes captured hers, and she held her hand out for him to shake. Instead, to her surprise, he took it and kissed it, gently.

  Keeping her smirk at Catherine’s astonished face in check, Shawna perked in, and said, “She can help you because she has a history degree. She did a lot of that family tree stuff. Although at the moment, she’s just the elementary school teacher.”

  “Shawna! I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about my life story, do you, Mr…?” Catherine felt herself becoming a little more in control as she let the question drift off, looking at him closely.

  “Mr Rouquette. But you can call me Caden.” She felt sure if he had been wearing a hat, he probably would have tipped it at her.

  “Charmed. I’m Catherine, and my loud-mouth friend here is Shawna.”

  Shawna flicked her long dark hair over her shoulder, the tiny plaits catching the light. She smiled, fawn-like, at Caden, practically batting her eyelashes. Caden smiled back at her, and nodded, but didn’t kiss her hand as he had with Catherine. Yes, score one to me! Catherine thought to herself. She wasn’t especially competitive about men with Shawna, but this time she was. With her perfect chocolaty skin, her deep brown eyes, and her generous curves, Shawna usually managed to pull any man before Catherine even got a look in.

  Caden cleared his throat, and turned his attention back to Catherine, ignoring the slight look of disappointment on Shawna’s face. “So…I was going to find somewhere to stay around here. Maybe we could meet up at some point and discuss family trees?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Shawna had over-exaggerated, of course. Catherine had started a history degree, but she had never finished it. And she wasn’t really a teacher at the local school; she was actually just a teacher’s assistant. “If you’re looking for a place to stay, Mrs Delfoy has a lovely guest house in the centre of town?”

  “Thank you, I’ll go and check with her now. Come and see me tomorrow night, if you will. Been a pleasure meeting you, ladies.” He nodded towards them, and then turned and strode out of the bar, giving Henri a thankful gesture as he left.

  Catherine turned to Shawna, her gentle smile replaced by annoyance. “What the hell were you doing? And what was all that about my degree? You know damn well I never finished the thing!”

  Shawna smiled slyly, and shrugged. “So? You were never gonna talk to him, and I could see you liked him. Not to mention he liked you.”

  “Oh, yeah right.” Catherine pulled herself back up onto her seat, the leather squealing uncomfortably. She pushed her glass forward towards Henri, and leaned on the bar. “Can I have another drink please, Henri? Only just make it lemonade-I mean soda or something, nothing with olives, or toothpaste, or tree leaves, or anything else weird in it. I’m going to die if I don’t hydrate myself.”

  “Yeah, right!” Shawna moved to her side, her plaits swinging about her head. She tapped impatiently on the bar, indicating her own drink. Henri nodded and waved his arm at her, telling her silently to be patient. Turning back to her friend, she continued, “Look, the guy wouldn’t even look at me. He kissed your hand. That’s like…gentlemanly or somethin’. I’m telling you, he wants you, and you were just gonna sit there and stare at your drink if I hadn’t said somethin’.”

  Catherine sighed, and thanked Henri as he placed two cold glasses of fizzing soda in front of them, nodding. Catherine noticed the look, and groaned, putting her head in her hands. “Not you too, Henri.”

  “She’s right, Catherine. You sit in my bar night after night, and never make a move on anyone. Pretty girl like you should have a nice man looking after her.”

  Catherine scowled. “Henri…this isn’t the middle ages, you know. I don’t need ‘looking-after’. I’m fine by myself.”

  Henri raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head, his blue eyes scrutinizing her. “Now you know I didn’t mean that. I just meant you should share your life with someone. Don’t end up like your mother. Damn, if you continue like this, Shawna’ll have her claws in him.”

  “Hey!” Shawna interjected, and then grinned. “Actually, Henri’s right, I would have my claws in him. I don’t know why you’re even thinking like this!”

  “Alright, alright! I’m just…shy with men, that’s all.” Catherine held her hands up against her friends’ tirade.

  Henri chuckled. “You never seem shy around me.”

  Catherine grinned, and chuckled as well. “But that’s because you’re so handsome, Henri, I can’t help myself.”

  Henri grinned widely, and a happy look spread over his old features. “Aw, come on now. You make sure you go and see that nice young man. Do you a world of good.”

  Shawna hugged her around her shoulders, and giggled. “I’ll help you out, don’t worry. And we’ll do a little spell-casting tonight, help you along the way.”

  Oh, the other thing about Bassinville? It was a hidden town of Wiccans, hiding deep in the Louisiana swamps, where they could live without back-lash form other communities. And Catherine was as Wiccan as the rest of them, despite having no powers to speak of…

  Chapter 2

  As Catherine walked up towards her white-washed house, she could already see her mother, Mya, outside, dancing around a tree in the front garden. She grinned to herself, shaking her head. Her mother was just a little bit mad, but she wouldn’t have changed her for the world. In fact, she wasn’t mad, just eccentric. Often Catherine had come home to find her hugging trees, or trying to teach a bird to talk, or attempting to paint the colour of a stream bubbling.

  They lived a little way out of town, and it was a ten-minute trek from the town to their house. It was a traditional white-washed plantation house, the veranda complete with a swinging seat. Huge old trees grew nearby, and their garden extended into an enormous field, which in turn disappeared into a swampy forest. It was late evening by the time Catherine got back, and flies were lazily buzzing their way through the humid air, the sun melting away behind the landscape.

  Her mother spotted her, and waved happily, her soft blue hippy-style dress rippling with the movement. She then turned back to the tree, and began to skip around it, looking up into its branches. As Catherine drew near, she held her hand out, letting it brush against the long grasses growing at the edge of the garden. Still watching her mother, she slumped into the grass, breathing in the fragrant scent of the wild flowers around her.

  “Hi honey! Did you go for a drink with Shawna?” Her mother’s voice appeared, and then disappeared as she vanished around the thick tree trunk.

  “Yeah, we had a couple of drinks. Actually, we…uh…met a guy in there. He was sort of nice.”

  Mya appeared sharply around the edge of the tr
unk, stopping to catch her breath. She looked across at her daughter, as if she thought she had heard her incorrectly. “Did you say…a man? Like, an actual man?”

  Catherine rolled her eyes, and lay back in the grass, covering her eyes with her arm. “Yes, mum. An actual man.”

  Her mother raced over, her bare feet whispering against the flowers as she ran over. She stopped abruptly, and dropped herself down next to Catherine, her coppery curls bouncing around her head. Cautiously, Catherine lifted her arm away, and squinted at her mother.

  Catherine had always thought how much prettier her mum was compared to her. Mya had rusty-coloured curls, rather than Catherine’s boring brown locks, and she was petite and delicate-looking, whereas Catherine was curvy and a little on the overweight side.

  “So, tell me about him? What does he look like? What does he do? Please tell me you didn’t let him go with asking to see him again?”

  “Whoa, mum, too many questions.” Catherine sat up again, out of her mum’s line of sight, as if to ignore her questions, but Mya simply moved forwards, looking eagerly towards her like a puppy waiting for a treat. “Alright…his name is Caden Rouquette, and I don’t know yet what he does for a living. He’s doing some family history research here; and…” she paused, wondering if she should mention Shawna’s involvement, and then decided not to. “And I offered to help him with it. He’s very tall, probably over six foot, dark hair…oh, you know, just gorgeous!” Unable to help herself, she let out a giggle, blushing at the memory of him. Her mum giggled excitedly with her, clapping her hands in joy.

  “Anyway mum, Shawna said she was coming over later to do some ‘casting with me, so…I should go inside and clear my room a bit.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her mother raised her eyebrow at her. “You just want to get out of my questioning. Go on then, go inside. I’ll see you in a bit, darling. I’m just dancing with this tree’s singing.”