Catherine scrambled to her feet, and watched her mother skip off again, sighing. She knew why her mother didn’t think much of her spell-casting with anyone. It wasn’t as if she had ever achieved anything.
Mya actually came from a long line of Wiccan witches; ones that had originated in Ireland. When they came over in the fifteenth century, a lot of them died through persecution, and the peaceful, nature-loving people were reviled as satanic monsters. The few that escaped had found their way to Louisiana, a centre already of voodoo and magick, and founded the small town of Bassinville. It had been hidden from human eyes back then, but in the last fifty years or so, anyone had been able to come through.
Catherine and her mother’s family had been one of those first families, although many others came later, like Shawna's family. And all of them had been amazing casters-except Catherine. Every Wiccan needed to find that perfect ‘something’ that controlled their powers. And on top of that, they had to find their own balance with nature, and realise the element that most closely attuned with them.
Shawna, for example, was an earthy kind of girl. She was strong, and forthright, and completely grounded. Shawna had also found quite by accident, that her ‘something’, her conduit, was in rocks. She had a whole collection of different stones in her house, that no-one else was permitted to touch.
Mya, her mother, used trees-as if it wasn’t obvious. Mya seemed to have an innate ability to connect with them, talking to them as if they were long-lost friends. As a result, she always carried a small, three-inch wand made of ash wood with her, which seemed in perfect unison with her element, air.
Catherine had tried everything, from mirrors, to wood, to stones-even trying cutlery at one point. But nothing had worked. And she had a feeling that it was to do with the fact that she couldn’t work out what element she was supposed to align with. She was flexible like water, gently breaking down a barrier, but she was also grounded and naturistic, like earth. She could be fiery and creative like fire, but also day-dreamy and carefree like air. That only left one element-‘spirit’. But no-one had ever been aligned with that element as far as she knew, and no-one had any idea how it would even be possible if there was anyone. It wasn’t as if there was a physical form of ‘spirit’.
Shaking the thought from her mind, she entered the house, the veranda floorboards creaking under her feet. She swung the screen door open, flapping the flies that protested as they were flung from the screen. At least it was cooler inside the house; her mother knew how Catherine was much more used to the cool air of the North Yorkshire countryside in England, and had continuous air-conditioning on.
Catherine padded through the kitchen, into the main passageway, and across to her room. It wasn’t as though she still had a bedroom at home with her mother. Rather, it was such a large house, it seemed pointless both of them living in separate houses. Catherine had her own living room, with a connected bathroom and bedroom, all separate from most of the rest of the house. As she walked in, she breathed in deeply, the lilies in her room bursting with scent. One of their three cats sat upon the back of her coffee-coloured sofa, purring happily as she entered the room. Grinning, she slumped onto the sofa, and tickled his chin, Whisker’s green eyes closing in pleasure. Standing up again, she glanced around at the few clothes strewn across the floor, and bent to pick them up, turning to throw them into her basket in the bathroom.
Suddenly, something caught her eye, as she passed the doorway. On the floor, in the dim light of her bedroom, something had glinted at her. Narrowing her eyes, she slowly walked in, her eyes scanning for any strange object. The same glint caught her eye, and she followed it. There was something just peeping out from under her bed. Catherine crouched down, and reached out for it gingerly.
A dagger!
With a small yell, she dropped it, jumping away as if she had been shot. Then she remembered her mother, and listened for any sounds. Knowing how panicky her mother could get, she didn’t want to alarm her unnecessarily. Taking a deep breath, she bent down again, and reached for the dagger, her hands closing around the cold metal. Bringing it out into the light of the hallway, she noticed that there was a strip of paper tied around the hilt of the dagger.
With trembling fingers, Catherine fumbled with the piece of string holding it on, cursing herself as she struggled to get it off. Finally she removed it, and carefully unrolled the paper, swallowing nervously as she reads the handwritten words that were printed there.
We got your father. Now it’s your turn, little witch.
A sudden banging from the front door snapped her from her shock. Shoving the note clumsily into her shorts pocket, she spun around looking for somewhere to put the dagger. Seeing nowhere else to hide it, she lifted her bed-sheets, and flung it underneath. She smoothed her hair back, trying to appear as calm as possible before she paced through the house. Coming into the kitchen, she saw that Shawna was already in the fridge, nosing around for snacks. She grinned.
“Shawna! Don’t you know it’s bad manners to walk into someone’s house and take their food without asking?”
Shawna looked up, holding a bowl of chips. Her mouth already full with food, she retorted with a cheeky grin, “It don’t count in your house, Cath, you know that! I’m like the sister you never had.”
Catherine laughed at that, and grabbed the chips off her, running through to her bedroom. Shawna followed pursuit, protesting loudly. In Catherine’s room, they both fell on her sofa, laughing and throwing chips at one another. Shawna sat up and coughed, trying to catch her breath.
“Girl, don’t ever make me run when I have food in my mouth again!”
Catherine just smiled, putting the chips aside, wondering if she should tell Shawna about the dagger. Deciding she should, she turned to face her, her expression turning serious. “Shawna…I want to show you something, but you mustn’t get worried…promise?”
Shawna shook her head. “You know I’m not going to promise that. But if you mean you don’t want your mom to hear, I’ll be quiet?”
Catherine nodded, and rose from the sofa, disappearing into her bedroom. Shawna reached around for the remote, and clicked the LCD television on, letting the room flood with light and sounds. Catherine appeared two seconds later, holding something behind her back. Sitting down heavily, she revealed the object to Shawna, who gasped in horror when she saw it was a dagger.
“Holy hell! Where did you find that?”
“In my bedroom. It was lying on the floor. And there’s more, it had this note with it.”
Shawna read the note silently, and then looked back up at Catherine, her brow furrowed with worry. She grabbed hold of Catherine’s arm, her voice tense, as she whispered, “You know you have to tell Joe, right?” Joe was the town’s sheriff.
Her friend nodded, looking broken. “Yeah, I know. I’m more worried that this was in the house. That means whoever left it here got in when my mum was around.”
“Aw, hell.” Shawna jumped up, pacing about the living room. “Well, I’m not leaving either of you alone tonight. I’m staying here.” At Catherine’s utter of protest, Shawna shook her head vehemently. “No, I’m not arguing about it, I’m staying. And that’s final.”
********
Caden leaned back on his small bed, kicking his boots off to hit the floor. Mrs Delfoy had turned out to be a very pleasant eighty-year old woman, who had bustled around making sure he had everything he needed.
Leaning on his elbow, he reached over for his large glass of whiskey, the ice clinking against the crystal-like glass. He took a large sip, savouring the warm, slightly spicy taste roll down his throat. Closing his eyes in appreciation, he licked his lips, letting the taste linger just a little longer. Placing the glass back onto the plastic-wood drawers, he leaned back in the bed, resting his head on his arms. He stared out of the window, looking up at all the silvery stars sitting in the velvety blanket of the night sky.
That woman today intrigued him. Of course, it was no coincidence tha
t he had met up with her; he had intended to meet her. But what he hadn’t been prepared for was how much she had charmed him. Her gentle Northern English accent, the way she blushed shyly whenever she had looked at him, her stunning green eyes and curling hazelnut hair.
She had stunned him. Caden had noticed her friend trying to flirt with him, and normally he would have taken more notice; after all, her friend had also been gorgeous. But she didn’t hold a candle to Catherine. Although he had covered it quickly, she almost had him tongue-tied.
But he couldn’t think of her in that way. Caden sighed, and rolled over, the bed springs protesting loudly. He had to keep his mission in mind at all times. There was only one reason he was here, and one reason only. A sudden sharp pain spiked through his gum. Wincing, he rubbed it with his finger, trying to sooth it.
He was going to have to stop drinking whiskey, and start drinking something else.
Chapter 3
Catherine opened her eyes blearily, trying to blink away the fuzziness of sleep. Yawning loudly, she tried to sit up, the light sheet covering her falling down the bed. The vibrant red walls of her bedroom met her vision, mentally waking her up a little more. Although everyone thought she was shy and retiring, she secretly had a passionate, exciting side of herself that no-one ever saw. But it wasn’t as if she allowed herself to show it very much, after…
Shaking that thought from her head, Catherine twisted, and let her legs fall over the side of the bed, letting her feet touch the soft woollen rug below. Dressed only in her pyjama shorts and top, she padded through to her sitting room, willing herself to wake up more.
Shawna was already up; sat in the centre of the room surrounded by a circle of salt. She was sat cross-legged, her eyes closed in concentration, her mouth moving silently. Catherine turned to leave, but Shawna opened her eyes and spotted her, and called her over.
“Morning, girl! It’s alright; I’m just doing a protection spell. Come and sit with me. There, just in front of me.”
Catherine obediently sat in front of her, crossing her legs in reflection. “You know I can’t help you, right?” Her tone held a note of sadness.
Shawna smiled, but the smile held the same feeling of sadness. “I know that! Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a candle for you and your mother; I wasn’t going to leave you out.”
Picking up the first of the candles, Shawna touched her fingers to a bowl of water to the left of them. Murmuring praise to the god and goddess, she then touched the candle. Shawna repeated this process for the other two candles, and then set them in their holders, in one long line. She then laid out her rocks in front of them, a collection of jewel-coloured crystals, and smooth pebble with rich lines running through them. She murmured a few more words, and then lifted a lighter to the candles, lighting each one with a click.
Shawna then picked up her favourite stone, an opal-coloured one with vivid purple lines running through its structure, and held it tightly in her fist, rubbing it gently. Closing her eyes, she began to chant.
“…god and goddess, I call to you, and ask you for protection for myself and my two friends, Mya and Catherine…”
A soft white light began to shine from the stone, resonating with a high-pitched hum that sounded like a silvery bell. Shawna continued to chant quietly, as the glow spread from her hand, across her whole body. The glow began to hum louder, and the glow surrounded her in a giant orb.
After a few minutes, the glow began to recede, and suddenly sucked itself back into the stone, the flames of the candles blowing out with an unseen wind. Shawna opened her eyes and shook herself, as if rousing herself from a long sleep. Catherine knew it had worked; aside from the glowing orb, she suddenly had a pleasant, warm feeling inside herself. She smiled at Shawna.
“Thanks. I think I needed that today.”
Shawna sighed, and stretched her legs out, being careful not to knock the candles over, and grabbed the dustpan that was by the sofa. She started to sweep the salt up, being careful to go in a clockwise direction. “Don’t worry about it. Now you make sure you go and tell Joe about that note, right?”
********
Catherine stood at the classroom door, letting the laughter of the children wash over her, taking away her worries. She decided not to go and tell Joe about the note until later that night, before she had been to see Mr Rouquette.
Opening the door, she entered the classroom, filled with light and brightly-coloured pictures. The children were sat in a semi-circle around the teacher, Mrs Watts. Catherine liked Mrs Watts, she was everything a typical children’s teacher should be. She was in her late fifties, and always had a ready smile on her face, her crinkled brown eyes full of joyfulness. As Catherine entered the room, several of the children turned around and waved enthusiastically, smiling. Catherine waved back with just her hand, putting her finger to her mouth to indicate silence while Mrs Watts was talking.
Silently placing her bag and coat on a nearby peg, Catherine sat down some way behind the group, listening to the lessons that the children were meant to earn today. It involved a lot of the normal subjects; English, Maths, Science…but also two lessons that Catherine dreaded. Spells and Rituals. When she helped teach the children on these subjects, she always felt as though it should be the other way around.
Mrs Watts finally stopped talking, and the children broke apart, running over to their desks, excitedly chattering to one another about various things. The kindly teacher pulled the chalk board down, and gave it a wipe over. As Catherine stood up, getting ready to help, there was a soft click as the classroom door opened, and someone entered.
Turning around, Catherine smiled happily. It was her friend; and another teaching assistant here at Bassinville Elementary, Jackson Perret. It was no secret that Jackson had a huge crush on Catherine; he had made it quite clear in the first few weeks of meeting her, when he had asked her out every day for a week. But Catherine just hadn’t felt the same, and now they simply remained close friends. It always seemed as if Jackson was still looking out for her though, and he had been around for some of the worst times of her life here.
“Hello Mrs Watts; Miss Adams. I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wondered if I could talk to Miss Adams for a moment? It’s very important.”
Mrs Watts raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Catherine, who shrugged slightly. She sighed, and nodded towards the pair. “Alright. But make it quick.”
“Thank you.” Jackson beckoned to Catherine, and slid back through the door, a paper streamer from the display next to the doorframe attaching itself momentarily to his back, floating away again as he passed. Catherine chewed her lip at the thought of what the hell he could want to talk to her about, and followed him out, ignoring the children’s hushed whispers.
She closed the door behind her with a click, and then folded her arms, looking straight at Jackson. He always looked far too smart for his own good, with a crisp white shirt tucked into light blue jeans. Wavy blond hair was styled on his head, highlighting his eyes that were so blue they were almost white. Catherine knew lots of women wouldn’t understand why she had turned him down; she knew that several of the children’s mothers swooned over him at school events. But she had just never felt that pull. She looked down at the cheap but tough green carpet below her feet, and toed at a large grey mark. “So, what have you pulled me out of class for?”
Jackson shook his head dramatically. “Are you serious? Shawna called me and told me what happened. I don’t know why you’re even in today! You should be down at the police station, telling them.”
Catherine groaned, and rolled her eyes at him. “I’m going to kill her. I asked her not to tell anyone…look, I’m going later, okay? I’m not going to miss work for that, but I am going.”
Running a hand through his hair, Jackson stared her in silence for a second, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What the-no! What is wrong with you, Catherine? Why aren’t you more worried about this? Hell no, you’re going down to that police station
right now, and I’m coming with you.” The expression on his face told her that there would be no arguments about this.
Groaning in annoyance, Catherine turned and entered the classroom, wondering what she was going to tell Mrs Watts…
Chapter 4
“So what did you say to Mrs Watts?”
Catherine shrugged. “Not much. She actually asked me if it was something I had to leave for, and I just said yes. I don’t need the whole town knowing-that is, if Shawna hasn’t already told them all.”
Jackson shifted slightly in his seat, and clunked the gear stick, turning the huge steering wheel of his pick-up sideways. He shook his head again. “I still can’t work out why the hell you didn’t go this morning? What could stop you going straight away?”
Turning her head, Catherine stared out of the window, watching the buildings roll past, as her thoughts drifted back to a long ago. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Look, a long time ago, just after my dad disappeared, my mum and I…we got all these death threats. My mum just panicked, as you would, and she had to go to the doctors for all these pills. She was a wreck. I remember it so well; I was always so worried for her. We took it to the police, and they followed it up for a while, but they never found anyone behind them, and eventually the threats just…petered away. So they dropped the case, and we moved on with our lives. So last night, it shook me up, but it’s probably just some sicko from years ago. That’s why I didn’t rush straight to Joe.”
“It still sounds pretty worrying. I don’t think I’d be as calm as you if I was getting death threats. Must be that British charm.” Jackson drawled, winking at Catherine. She grinned back, but it didn’t meet her eyes.
He turned the steering wheel, manoeuvring the truck into the car park of the police station, the sunlight glinting viciously across the windscreen. Jackson stopped the truck, the engine dying down with a rumbling sigh. Catherine clicked her door open, and slid out onto the dusty parking space below, right outside the sheriff’s office. She squinted in the bright sunlight at the small tan-coloured building, taking in its peeling window frames and door. Most of the town was painted and immaculate, but for some reason the police station always looked worse for wear. Catherine briefly wondered if buildings showed on the outside, how their occupants felt on the inside.
With You In Spirit (The Bassinville Witches Series) Page 2
