Burkheart Witch Saga Book 3

by Christine Sutton

  3

  "I want to know exactly what you are offering," Grace said when Roland answered his phone.

  "Grace, I am so pleased that you decided to call me back."

  "Just give me the details," she said curtly.

  "I forgot how direct you can be. So, we shall get right to the point."

  "That would be good." She felt bad for being so short with this man, who had done nothing to deserve her bad attitude so far.

  "I am offering you the chance to have your mother back. The world will be as though the accident never took place. Any time that has passed will be filled with memories of shopping for the baby and having lunches in Olympia. No one will know the truth except for you, my dear."

  "What will it cost me?" Grace could not help but be skeptical.

  Kayla had taught her that nothing was ever just handed to you. In life, you had to work for what you want. Grace knew this to be true.

  "Absolutely nothing, my dear! This is a gift to you. Gifts bear no price."

  "Nothing comes without a price." Grace was quickly growing impatient again with the lack of details.

  "I think that you will need to come back to my office, Grace. We can go over all of the details in person. I will explain everything to you. I give you my word that all will be clear to you. I am still more comfortable with speaking face to face and not over these wires and cables."

  "I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Grace hung up the phone and grabbed her keys.

  As she pulled up to the office on Desidero, the sinking feeling returned in the pit of her stomach. She ignored it and made her way past the gold pillars and into the ornate building.

  Roland sat at his desk waiting patiently for Grace to arrive when she barged through the lobby and into his office.

  "Thirteen minutes," he said, looking at the gold watch on his left wrist. "I am quite impressed, Grace." Roland's smile was intoxicating and immediately made her feel more at ease.

  He placed his hand atop a pile of papers and turned them to Grace with a flick of his wrist.

  "What is this?" she asked suspiciously.

  "A standard contract. All of the details of your benefactor's offer are outlined there. Simply a formality, or rather an acknowledgment that you are receiving your greatest desire. Would you like some tea, my dear?"

  "Yes, please." She began reading over the contract and realized that it might as well have been written in Aramaic for all the sense it made to her.

  Roland brought a silver tray to the desk with a delicate china tea service for two. He poured the steaming tea into the floral cup and offered a smaller tray with sugar and cream.

  "Two, please," she said while she continued trying to read the contract.

  Roland dropped two sugar cubes into the cup and delicately stirred the hot liquid before he placed it in front of her.

  "The tea is non-caffeinated, by the way," Roland said, answering the concern that had not yet made it out of her head. "That is best for your little one."

  Grace lifted the cup to her lips. She was immediately comforted by the strong smell of clove and cinnamon.

  "Is the tea to your liking?"

  "Yes, it's actually perfect," she said, taking another sip.

  Grace felt completely at ease as the hot liquid made its way to her stomach, spreading a warmth all the way to her toes.

  "I still don't completely understand what this is going to cost me."

  "What a suspicious thing you are." He clasped his hands together in an exaggerated gesture. "I assure you, my dear, your benefactor requires no payment from you other than your absolute promise to cherish your gift."

  She continued eyeing him suspiciously, attempting to reach into his mind. She was surprised when she found nothing. Not just a clear mind, but nothing at all. It was as if she had walked into a complete whiteout, or a snowy television channel. Roland's mind was nothing but a fog.

  "You'll find nothing there," he said, startling her out of her expedition into his subconscious. "It's not that I am empty-headed, mind you. I am simply immune to your powers. I am immune to almost all magic as a matter of fact."

  "What are you?" she asked for the second time in as many days.

  "I have told you, Grace, I am a procurer. An agent of sorts. Although, I am doing nothing more than acting as a delivery man for this transaction."

  "Okay then, who is this mysterious benefactor?"

  "On that fact, I am sworn to secrecy. This is a vow that I am unable and unwilling to break. Even though I am immune to most magic, there are certain rules which are beyond my control."

  At that moment, Grace decided that she had grown tired of the dance and simply wanted this meeting to be over. She placed her teacup down on the desk and took the quill pen in her hand. With a deep breath, she signed her name to the last page of the contract with a flourish.

  A rush of cool air wafted over her hands as she crossed the final "t". Grace looked up at Roland and instead of the alluring smile that she was expecting, she saw a look of what seemed like sadness on his face.

  "What now?" Grace asked, feeling somewhat frightened.

  "Our business is now concluded, Grace. Go home and all will be as it once was. You are the only one that will know anything of the events of the past month. Everyone else will be unaware that anything has changed."

  The melancholy look still sat squarely on Roland's handsome face. Grace tried one more time to invade his thoughts, but it was still no use. He simply looked directly into her eyes.

  "We are done here, Grace."

  With that final statement, Roland Stillson disappeared in a puff of smoke. Grace looked around the room that had been filled with elegant furnishings and velvet wall coverings only moments before. It was now nothing more than an empty building filled with dust and remnants of past tenants. The desk dematerialized and the ornate chair she sat in was suddenly nothing more than a folding metal seat.

  Grace unceremoniously rose from her rusting seat and walked out the door of the building, sidestepping old soda cans, empty cigarette packs and crumpled newspapers. The sign outside that read "For Lease" sat askew in the dusty front window, hanging there like a condemned criminal at the end of an executioner's rope. She hurried to her car, eager to be away from the dilapidated building and the ghosts that lay within.

  Driving back to the house where her father sat alone during the day, missing his wife, she thought about the strange feeling she had encountered when trying to read Roland's mind. The expression of sorrow that overtook his face when she agreed to sign the contract weighed on her mind as well. This mystery was doing nothing but giving her a headache and a heavy heart. She continued the drive and did her best to keep her mind completely clear. She turned on the radio and listened as Aerosmith instructed her to walk this way.

  The driveway of David's house appeared in front of her car as it had a million times before. She pulled in and almost forgot to put her foot on the brake as she approached the house.

  There in the front garden was a woman with long blond, if slightly graying, hair. The lady was on her knees in front of the bed of pansies that had been planted in the early spring, digging in the dirt and pulling stray weeds.

  Grace did manage to stop the car and stepped out, not exactly sure what to expect. She walked over to the flowerbed, and the woman turned around and flashed a bright, familiar smile.

  "Hey there, Munchkin. How was your appointment?"

  "Mom?" Grace stumbled over to Kayla in a daze.

  Kayla quickly rose to her feet, dropping her trowel, and rushed over to where Grace stood dumbfounded.

  "Honey, what is it? Are you okay?"

  Grace was unable to respond. She moved her mouth as if to speak, but nothing would come out. Standing there like a zombie awaiting a head shot, she continued to work her mouth back and forth to no avail.

  Kayla reached out again and put her arm around Grace's shoulder as if to steady her.

  "David, Harold! Something is wrong with Grace.
Come out here, quick!"

  As Grace felt her mother's arm around her and smelled the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the earthy smell of soil, she burst into tears and grabbed tightly to the recently dead woman.

  "Oh Mama, is it really you?"

  "Of course it's me, Munchkin. Who else would it be?"

  "I just… I'm so glad to see you," Grace stammered through her sobs.

  "Are you all right, sweetie?" Kayla looked her directly in the eyes and Grace could see that she was frightened and confused.

  "I'm fine. Nothing is wrong, and the appointment went great. It must be hormones or something."

  Grace smiled, overtaken by a feeling of pure joy. She pulled away from Kayla, reluctantly, and started toward the front door holding her mom's dirt covered hand.

  David and Harold rushed out of the house and down the front steps to where the two women stood.

  "Honey, are you okay? What's wrong? Is the baby okay? What's wrong?" Harold looked as though he was about to cry as well. The terror on his face mirrored the fear in David's eyes.

  "She's fine. I'm so sorry I scared you; it was just hormones." Kayla smiled at the men as they both sighed in relief.

  Harold still looked as if he was going to have a coronary, cry, and faint simultaneously.

  "Oh, thank God," he sighed again, clutching his chest in relief.

  "Let's get you into the house, Munchkin." David offered to take her other arm while Harold recovered from his near heart attack.

  "Thank you, Dad. Harold, do you need some water or something?" Grace asked as her fiancé regained his composure.

  Harold smiled at her and waved his hand before he bent over and placed it on his knee.

  "I'm good now, thanks."

  The four of them laughed, and Grace took special pleasure in hearing her mother's hearty chuckle.

  "How about something to eat, Mom?" Grace said this with such pleasure that she felt as if her face might split from the smile spread across it.

  "Cheeseburger?"

  "Add bacon and you have got a deal."

  "Coming right up!"

  4

  Grace stood in front of the mirror with her tight t-shirt pulled up over her growing belly. She was just over five months along and had begun to show. Most of the time now, she looked as though she were trying to smuggle half a soccer ball under her shirt.

  Kayla had insisted on going to every single appointment with her, making sure that she ate right, and getting all of her vitamins together every morning. She had insisted that Grace move back into the house during her pregnancy. It was actually starting to make Grace a little bit uncomfortable, because Kayla had even begun to exclude Harold from some of these activities. It was a difficult situation, because on one hand, Grace was still so thrilled to have her mom back, but on the other hand, it was getting to be a bit of a strain between her and Harry.

  Grace decided that she would have a talk with Kayla later that day. It would be hard, but Kayla would understand that she needed space. She stood admiring the little bump that meant her baby was growing healthy inside of her.

  "Getting bigger every day," Kayla said, from the doorway, causing Grace to nearly jump directly out of her skin.

  "Yeah, big as a house," Grace replied, suddenly embarrassed as she pulled her shirt down.

  "Don't be silly. My second pregnancy, I looked like a hot air balloon."

  "Second pregnancy?" Grace asked, confused.

  "No, silly. I did not say second. This little one must be confusing your senses," Kayla replied, smiling and rubbing Grace's tummy.

  "You said second. I'm sure of it."

  "Are you saying that I'm lying?" Kayla asked her, looking hurt and angry.

  "No, Mom. I just meant I could have sworn you said it. My ears just aren't working right, I guess," Grace laughed uneasily.

  She knew full well what she had heard, and she was getting tired of everyone telling her that she was wrong about everything because she was pregnant. Being pregnant made her a little emotional and sometimes forgetful, but it did not make her stupid.

  "I have your breakfast and your vitamins ready downstairs, Munchkin. Don't dawdle, now. It's important for you to get a good meal."

  "I'll be down in just a minute."

  "You will be down now," Kayla snapped at her, suddenly. "I am working very hard to take care of you, and you need to be a little more appreciative, young lady."

  "Um, okay. I'll come down now then. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Grace said, stunned at the flip in her mom's attitude.

  "That's better," Kayla snorted as she started down the hall toward the stairs.

  Grace followed, not wanting to disobey, but she had a strong feeling of unease. She ran through all the possibilities in her head. Was Kayla "breaking down" after being back from the dead for three months? Was her mind going from some traumatic event during the time she was dead? She decided that the best thing to do was to wait it out and see what happened in the coming months. Maybe it was just nervousness about the pregnancy. Maybe everyone was right about her and pregnancy was screwing around with her head. She felt so confused.

  She walked out of the room and smelled the biscuits fresh from the oven, and her worries suddenly seemed far away. She made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, her stomach growling like a starving tiger.

  David and Harold had gone to her apartment to set up the new crib she and Kayla had picked out. Harold had really wanted to get out of the house and away from Kayla, but he would have never said that to Grace for fear of hurting her feelings. He occasionally seemed to forget that her powers allowed her to feel what he was feeling. He felt excluded and hurt, but he had loved Kayla just as much as the rest of them. She had been like a second mother to him after he was rescued from the cottage in the woods.

  His family was great, but his mother and father had died shortly after his nineteenth birthday. They had been traveling to New York when their plane crashed. Harold was supposed to be with them, but he'd opted to stay in Washington to be with Grace for her birthday. The guilt that he felt had nearly killed him, and it had nearly driven Grace crazy as she felt every bit of it emanating from his mind in waves. She had tried her best to project feelings of forgiveness and peace to him, but the barrier he had set up around his heart was nearly impenetrable. She had finally broken through it when she told him that she loved him for the first time.

  Grace had literally felt his heart soften, and she knew for a fact he felt the same way about her.

  He was the best thing in her life, and she did not like the way that Kayla had been treating him since she came back. Even David had been having some odd feelings about his wife. He tried to mask them from Grace, but her magic was too strong for him to hide it. He was wondering why she had been short-tempered and impatient. He had even thought about the possibility of Kayla having an affair.

  Grace sat down at the table ready to eat, and Kayla put a plate in front of her containing a grapefruit and a small bowl of oatmeal. Kayla sat down to a plate of fresh biscuits and gravy.

  "What is this?" Grace asked.

  "Your breakfast. You are getting a little too chubby, so we have to cut down on your carbs," Kayla said as she scooped up a forkful of gravy-coated biscuit. "Take your vitamins."

  Grace's mouth hung open. She was in total disbelief that her mom had said something so hurtful. She decided to dig a little deeper into the situation.

  "Mom, have you talked to Doc or Joy lately? I really wanted to have them over for dinner this week."

  "No. We don't need to have those midgets here. I don't want them trying to fill your head with nonsense." Kayla continued to shovel her breakfast into her mouth as she talked.

  In all the years Grace had been alive, Kayla had never said a derogatory thing about anyone in the coven. Doc and Joy were the closest things that Kayla had to parents, and she loved them fiercely. For her to refer to them as midgets was unthinkable. There was something very wrong, and Grace intend
ed to find out exactly what it was.

  "I'm going to go to the apartment and help with the nursery, and then Harold and I are going to go out to dinner tonight."

  "I'll go with you."

  "No Mom, just me and Harold."

  "Well, if that is what you want," Kayla replied petulantly. "If you don't want me there, that's fine."

  "We just really need some alone time," Grace said, digging into her oatmeal.

  "I said it was fine," Kayla grumbled.

  The two women ate in uncomfortable silence. All that Grace could think about was her desire to have biscuits and gravy—and how bizarre her mom's behavior was lately.

  When the two women finished their meals, Grace rose from the table and took her dishes to the sink. She opened the dishwasher to place her plate in the rack. Noticing that it was full, she opened the cabinet under the sink to retrieve a tablet of soap, and that was when she saw it.

  There was a bottle of vodka sitting in the cabinet behind the trash bags.

  Grace was stunned that after so many years, her mom would start drinking again. Both her mom and dad were ex-alcoholics, and they had always sworn to her that they would never touch a drop of alcohol as long as they lived because they loved her and each other too much to ruin it by going back to that kind of life.

  Grace stood up and pretended that she had not seen the half-hidden bottle. She would bring it up with her father before she attempted to confront Kayla with her new knowledge. It would certainly explain some of the odd behavior and the bad temper. It broke Grace's heart to know her mom was drinking again, but she needed to find out why.

  She headed upstairs to get her purse and keys. On her way out, she saw Kayla sitting in the den on the computer. Grace walked in to tell her goodbye and Kayla immediately closed the window that she was working in.

  "You shouldn't sneak up on people, Grace."

  "I wasn't sneaking, Mom. I just came in to say goodbye," Grace replied, telling herself that the alcohol must be the reason she was getting such hostile vibes from Kayla's mind.